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bantha_fodderThe flist is boring today. I guess heaps of people are still off giving thanks, or something. So I wrote fic.
A Refrain of the Things Behind Us (a brand new start) by Pen.
Battlestar Galactica / Children of Dune, Laura Roslin. Rated G.
With thanks to Claira. This is sort of for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
familyarchives.
I don't have any icons of Laura Roslin.
***
"Madame President, are you okay?" She rests her hand upon his arm and smiles. Dear, dear Billy, his skin cold and his lips blue.
"No," she replies.
"You're almost there," he smiles at her, and she wants to say, you're dead, and she wants to ask, almost where? but her voice catches in her throat.
Laura wakes, the sweat beading on her skin. She rolls over, but it's too late, she's awake, and she gets out of bed.
*
Billy haunts her through the morning: Apollo gives her Billy's smile as he greets her; she walks through the Galactica's corridors and thinks she sees Billy ahead, but as she speeds up she knows it is not him; she hears his voice when Admiral Adama speaks of a series of planets with some monitored activity.
"Cylons?" she asks, after a moment.
He looks at her closely. "We're going to send a small group to investigate," he replies. "I just wanted to let you know."
"Thank you for keeping me informed," she says, and they move on to other topics.
Later, she closes her folder and moves to stand. Billy stands with her. "Madame President," he says. "Are you okay?"
She presses her lips together. It doesn't matter anyway; he knows.
*
She spends four hours in her office, shuffling paper from side to side. Sometimes she wishes she was a real president, taking lunch meetings and having affairs in her large, open-plan office, and sometimes she wishes she were no president at all, just a school teacher, alone and slowly dying on Caprica.
Alone, but for Billy, and her heart aches.
Her phone buzzes. "Madame President," Admiral Adama's gravelly voice travels through the vacuum between them. "The vipers are back. You might be interested in what they have to say."
*
Starbuck stands, more formal than Laura is used to. "They're people," she says. "Too many to be Cylons."
Laura's stomach jumps. "Earth?"
Starbuck shrugs. "We didn't ask."
Apollo glances at Starbuck, then looks back across to Laura. "We thought you should do that," he says.
"Admiral," says Lietenant Gaeta, and Laura can still see the darkness from his eyes in New Caprica. He doesn't look away. "We have contact."
*
They don't tell the Twelve.
The military is need to know, and Laura's getting used to that sort of thing.
*
Apollo and Starbuck fly her down to the surface of the planet in a raptor, and the trip is filled with laughter and jokes that don't make sense to her. Starbuck and Apollo smile at one another; she wonders what happened on the reconnaissance mission, and Laura misses Billy in the gaps between the silences.
The air is dry and the light is bright, and they are greeted by an old man with stunning blue eyes.
"Hello," Laura says, feeling her way through the conversation: she is unsure with whom she speaks. His bald head glints in the sunlight, and he nods to her. "Thank you for allowing us to land."
"The Emperor and his sister wish to see you. It has been some time since someone new has ventured into the Empire, and they quite intrigued."
He indicates the way, and Laura walks beside him. Apollo and Starbuck follow her. "Forgive me," she begins, fishing for information. "I am the President of the Colonies, and my name is Laura."
"I am Stilgar," he replies. "Naib of Sietch Tabr."
She doesn't know where to start, Naib and Sietch and the identical, iridescent blue eyes of everyone they pass, so she asks the most urgent one. "The Emperor rules with his sister?" she asks.
"Atreides siblings are always close," he says, and they enter a room of golden hues. The windows arc from the floor to the ceiling, and the bronze thrones sparkle in the light.
Laura walks the long path from the entrance to the thrones, and pauses before the steps. "Thank you for seeing us," she says to the Emperor, a figure bathed in light and covered in a grey armour. "We've come a long way, and we had thought there was no one left."
The Emperor smiles, a joke he shares with no one but himself, and leans forward. "We have entire planets," he says. "But this is the jewel of our Empire."
"Leto," scolds the woman behind the throne, and the Emperor frowns.
"But we might have brought danger to your Empire," Laura says, drawing his attention back to her. "We're being chased by creatures of our own creation. Of twelve colonies there are just forty thousand of us left, and we've come from one myth in search of another, a rumour of a thirteenth colony, to shelter us."
"Oh," says the Emperor's sister. "You're from Kobol."
Laura blinks, and beside her, Apollo coughs.
"You've heard of Kobol?" Laura asks.
The Emperor smiles. "My sister has heard of everything." He looks back at her, and she returns his gaze with a grin. The Emperor pushes to his feet, holds his hand out for his sister. The armour curling around his flesh flexes as he stands, and Laura realises that it is attached to his skin. "Irulan will arrange rooms for you in the palace. Thank you, President Roslin."
"Your Highness," she replies.
"Please," he says, his grip firm around his sister's hand. "Call me Leto."
*
Irulan meets them at the exit to the audience hall, her face cold. "This way, please," she says. Laura struggles to keep up, but she refuses to show her struggle and keeps a smile upon her face.
"The Emperor seems nice," she says, mildly.
"Leto has the ability to understand everyone's very unique situation," Irulan says.
"He and his sister seem very close," Starbuck says, and Laura thinks of Billy, who might have asked that question. From him, it wouldn't have seemed so rude, so abrupt.
"His sister is a great comfort to him. The twins have been through a lot."
They walk through the halls in silence; the light is golden, and the halls are a strange combination of desert and opulence, and Laura wonders.
"Have they ruled for long?" she asks. "They seem very young."
"Their father died a long time ago," Irulan says, sharply, and Laura knows she's said the wrong thing. They walk through a door and Irulan stops. "Please don't leave your rooms. You'll find some clothes in here: you might be more comfortable in clothes better suited to our unique environment. I'll return shortly."
Irulan leaves them there, and though the ground is firm, there is no hum beneath her feet. She remembers the last time that occurred, and tries not to think of the Cylons.
"Well," Starbuck starts.
"Captain." Laura needs her to stop speaking, she needs to think, and she pulls the door shut.
Apollo does his reconnaissance thing, checking behind doors and behind the painting of a man in armour with a sword in his hand, and Laura hides a grin behind her hand.
Starbuck laughs out loud, and the knot in Laura's stomach loosens, just a little.
*
Apollo rises when a knock sounds at the door, and a man with metal eyes enters. "I am Duncan Idaho," he says. "I am to escort you to see Leto, and Ghanima."
Laura puts her hand out to greet him. "Thank you, Mister Idaho," she says, and behind her, she hears a rustle as Starbuck rises. He grips her hand firmly: shakes once and examines her hand.
"Of course," he says. "The Colonies. And please, I am Duncan." Laura gathers the headdress she selected in her hands, and swishes out the door, the material light about her shoulders.
"You all seem to know a lot about our history," Laura comments as they walk the corridors.
"I learn easily," Duncan says.
They enter a conference room, and the Emperor whispers in his sister's ear. She tilts her head. "My brother informs me there is room for your people on one of our lesser planets."
"Perhaps you don't understand," Laura says, surprised by their lack of pleasantries. "We are being chased by Cylons, robots that look human, and can't be distinguished from us, even when dead."
"Yes," says Leto. "We know. But the Cylons can not follow humanity down the Golden Path, and you will be safe here with us."
"What is the Golden Path?" Apollo asks.
Leto smiles. "It will be the salvation of Arrakis," he says, and pushes to his feet. "Ghanima." He leaves the room without looking behind him, and Ghanima pauses, her hand on the door.
"Duncan will direct you to Salusa Secundus. And though my brother likes to confuse, please don't worry: the Cylons will not be a problem for much longer."
Starbuck and Apollo argue quietly as they walk, and Roslin tunes them out. "Duncan," she says. "Your image is in our rooms. Were you in a war?"
"Muad'Dib's Jihad," he replies, words that mean nothing to her. He sees her blank look, and continues. "Thirty years ago, many sacrifices were made on Arrakis."
"You haven't aged in thirty years," observes Laura.
"No," says Duncan, as they reach the doors of the palace compound. "I have the Tleilaxu to thank for that."
Starbuck and Apollo wait for her at the raptor, but Laura wanders into the crowded streets of Arakeen, the sun bright and uncomfortable on her face. She draws the veil over her head, listens to the words of the Fremen and tries to see where her people can fit into their world.
The marketplace is busy, filled with animals and shouts, and Laura jumps, startled, when a hand clasps her shoulder.
"You should not wander unattended," Duncan scolds. "Please come with me."
"Where is this planet?" she asks. "Salusa Secundus."
"Ghanima inherited it when she married, but no one lives there now."
"His sister is married, but not the Emperor? That seems unusual."
"He has no need of a wife, when he has his sister." Duncan falls silent, but Laura finds she cannot do the same.
"Who are the Tleilaxu?" Laura asks, and Duncan stops. The people of Arrakis flow around them, and Duncan looks down at her.
"They made me who I am," Duncan replies. "I was killed when my Lord went to war, and I was killed again when Alia went to war, and now I wait, and obey my Emperor."
"You're a Cylon?" Laura asks, and fear grips her.
Duncan shakes his head. "The Tleilaxu see death as a challenge. I am not a creation, I am a recreation." He begins to walk again, and the raptor looms above the crowds. "I will guide you to Salusa Secundus tomorrow."
"We will need more time than that," she replies. "There are people to consult. I cannot make these decisions on my own. I am accountable to my people."
"A wise system," Duncan says.
He leaves her there, and Laura climbs into the raptor; imagines his heavy metal eyes watching the raptor climbing into the sky.
*
He meets them, as he promises. "A short decision, then," he says, his voice heavy with irony as he boards the Galactica.
"The Council thought it best to agree with me," she replies, and thinks of all the times they've disagreed; thinks of Baltar and thinks of Zarek, and thinks of a world free of Cylons.
"Tell me about the Tleilaxu," she says.
She thinks of Billy.
END
eta: I've written some timestamps for this fic, per request, and they can be found here.
A Refrain of the Things Behind Us (a brand new start) by Pen.
Battlestar Galactica / Children of Dune, Laura Roslin. Rated G.
With thanks to Claira. This is sort of for
familyarchives.I don't have any icons of Laura Roslin.
***
"Madame President, are you okay?" She rests her hand upon his arm and smiles. Dear, dear Billy, his skin cold and his lips blue.
"No," she replies.
"You're almost there," he smiles at her, and she wants to say, you're dead, and she wants to ask, almost where? but her voice catches in her throat.
Laura wakes, the sweat beading on her skin. She rolls over, but it's too late, she's awake, and she gets out of bed.
*
Billy haunts her through the morning: Apollo gives her Billy's smile as he greets her; she walks through the Galactica's corridors and thinks she sees Billy ahead, but as she speeds up she knows it is not him; she hears his voice when Admiral Adama speaks of a series of planets with some monitored activity.
"Cylons?" she asks, after a moment.
He looks at her closely. "We're going to send a small group to investigate," he replies. "I just wanted to let you know."
"Thank you for keeping me informed," she says, and they move on to other topics.
Later, she closes her folder and moves to stand. Billy stands with her. "Madame President," he says. "Are you okay?"
She presses her lips together. It doesn't matter anyway; he knows.
*
She spends four hours in her office, shuffling paper from side to side. Sometimes she wishes she was a real president, taking lunch meetings and having affairs in her large, open-plan office, and sometimes she wishes she were no president at all, just a school teacher, alone and slowly dying on Caprica.
Alone, but for Billy, and her heart aches.
Her phone buzzes. "Madame President," Admiral Adama's gravelly voice travels through the vacuum between them. "The vipers are back. You might be interested in what they have to say."
*
Starbuck stands, more formal than Laura is used to. "They're people," she says. "Too many to be Cylons."
Laura's stomach jumps. "Earth?"
Starbuck shrugs. "We didn't ask."
Apollo glances at Starbuck, then looks back across to Laura. "We thought you should do that," he says.
"Admiral," says Lietenant Gaeta, and Laura can still see the darkness from his eyes in New Caprica. He doesn't look away. "We have contact."
*
They don't tell the Twelve.
The military is need to know, and Laura's getting used to that sort of thing.
*
Apollo and Starbuck fly her down to the surface of the planet in a raptor, and the trip is filled with laughter and jokes that don't make sense to her. Starbuck and Apollo smile at one another; she wonders what happened on the reconnaissance mission, and Laura misses Billy in the gaps between the silences.
The air is dry and the light is bright, and they are greeted by an old man with stunning blue eyes.
"Hello," Laura says, feeling her way through the conversation: she is unsure with whom she speaks. His bald head glints in the sunlight, and he nods to her. "Thank you for allowing us to land."
"The Emperor and his sister wish to see you. It has been some time since someone new has ventured into the Empire, and they quite intrigued."
He indicates the way, and Laura walks beside him. Apollo and Starbuck follow her. "Forgive me," she begins, fishing for information. "I am the President of the Colonies, and my name is Laura."
"I am Stilgar," he replies. "Naib of Sietch Tabr."
She doesn't know where to start, Naib and Sietch and the identical, iridescent blue eyes of everyone they pass, so she asks the most urgent one. "The Emperor rules with his sister?" she asks.
"Atreides siblings are always close," he says, and they enter a room of golden hues. The windows arc from the floor to the ceiling, and the bronze thrones sparkle in the light.
Laura walks the long path from the entrance to the thrones, and pauses before the steps. "Thank you for seeing us," she says to the Emperor, a figure bathed in light and covered in a grey armour. "We've come a long way, and we had thought there was no one left."
The Emperor smiles, a joke he shares with no one but himself, and leans forward. "We have entire planets," he says. "But this is the jewel of our Empire."
"Leto," scolds the woman behind the throne, and the Emperor frowns.
"But we might have brought danger to your Empire," Laura says, drawing his attention back to her. "We're being chased by creatures of our own creation. Of twelve colonies there are just forty thousand of us left, and we've come from one myth in search of another, a rumour of a thirteenth colony, to shelter us."
"Oh," says the Emperor's sister. "You're from Kobol."
Laura blinks, and beside her, Apollo coughs.
"You've heard of Kobol?" Laura asks.
The Emperor smiles. "My sister has heard of everything." He looks back at her, and she returns his gaze with a grin. The Emperor pushes to his feet, holds his hand out for his sister. The armour curling around his flesh flexes as he stands, and Laura realises that it is attached to his skin. "Irulan will arrange rooms for you in the palace. Thank you, President Roslin."
"Your Highness," she replies.
"Please," he says, his grip firm around his sister's hand. "Call me Leto."
*
Irulan meets them at the exit to the audience hall, her face cold. "This way, please," she says. Laura struggles to keep up, but she refuses to show her struggle and keeps a smile upon her face.
"The Emperor seems nice," she says, mildly.
"Leto has the ability to understand everyone's very unique situation," Irulan says.
"He and his sister seem very close," Starbuck says, and Laura thinks of Billy, who might have asked that question. From him, it wouldn't have seemed so rude, so abrupt.
"His sister is a great comfort to him. The twins have been through a lot."
They walk through the halls in silence; the light is golden, and the halls are a strange combination of desert and opulence, and Laura wonders.
"Have they ruled for long?" she asks. "They seem very young."
"Their father died a long time ago," Irulan says, sharply, and Laura knows she's said the wrong thing. They walk through a door and Irulan stops. "Please don't leave your rooms. You'll find some clothes in here: you might be more comfortable in clothes better suited to our unique environment. I'll return shortly."
Irulan leaves them there, and though the ground is firm, there is no hum beneath her feet. She remembers the last time that occurred, and tries not to think of the Cylons.
"Well," Starbuck starts.
"Captain." Laura needs her to stop speaking, she needs to think, and she pulls the door shut.
Apollo does his reconnaissance thing, checking behind doors and behind the painting of a man in armour with a sword in his hand, and Laura hides a grin behind her hand.
Starbuck laughs out loud, and the knot in Laura's stomach loosens, just a little.
*
Apollo rises when a knock sounds at the door, and a man with metal eyes enters. "I am Duncan Idaho," he says. "I am to escort you to see Leto, and Ghanima."
Laura puts her hand out to greet him. "Thank you, Mister Idaho," she says, and behind her, she hears a rustle as Starbuck rises. He grips her hand firmly: shakes once and examines her hand.
"Of course," he says. "The Colonies. And please, I am Duncan." Laura gathers the headdress she selected in her hands, and swishes out the door, the material light about her shoulders.
"You all seem to know a lot about our history," Laura comments as they walk the corridors.
"I learn easily," Duncan says.
They enter a conference room, and the Emperor whispers in his sister's ear. She tilts her head. "My brother informs me there is room for your people on one of our lesser planets."
"Perhaps you don't understand," Laura says, surprised by their lack of pleasantries. "We are being chased by Cylons, robots that look human, and can't be distinguished from us, even when dead."
"Yes," says Leto. "We know. But the Cylons can not follow humanity down the Golden Path, and you will be safe here with us."
"What is the Golden Path?" Apollo asks.
Leto smiles. "It will be the salvation of Arrakis," he says, and pushes to his feet. "Ghanima." He leaves the room without looking behind him, and Ghanima pauses, her hand on the door.
"Duncan will direct you to Salusa Secundus. And though my brother likes to confuse, please don't worry: the Cylons will not be a problem for much longer."
Starbuck and Apollo argue quietly as they walk, and Roslin tunes them out. "Duncan," she says. "Your image is in our rooms. Were you in a war?"
"Muad'Dib's Jihad," he replies, words that mean nothing to her. He sees her blank look, and continues. "Thirty years ago, many sacrifices were made on Arrakis."
"You haven't aged in thirty years," observes Laura.
"No," says Duncan, as they reach the doors of the palace compound. "I have the Tleilaxu to thank for that."
Starbuck and Apollo wait for her at the raptor, but Laura wanders into the crowded streets of Arakeen, the sun bright and uncomfortable on her face. She draws the veil over her head, listens to the words of the Fremen and tries to see where her people can fit into their world.
The marketplace is busy, filled with animals and shouts, and Laura jumps, startled, when a hand clasps her shoulder.
"You should not wander unattended," Duncan scolds. "Please come with me."
"Where is this planet?" she asks. "Salusa Secundus."
"Ghanima inherited it when she married, but no one lives there now."
"His sister is married, but not the Emperor? That seems unusual."
"He has no need of a wife, when he has his sister." Duncan falls silent, but Laura finds she cannot do the same.
"Who are the Tleilaxu?" Laura asks, and Duncan stops. The people of Arrakis flow around them, and Duncan looks down at her.
"They made me who I am," Duncan replies. "I was killed when my Lord went to war, and I was killed again when Alia went to war, and now I wait, and obey my Emperor."
"You're a Cylon?" Laura asks, and fear grips her.
Duncan shakes his head. "The Tleilaxu see death as a challenge. I am not a creation, I am a recreation." He begins to walk again, and the raptor looms above the crowds. "I will guide you to Salusa Secundus tomorrow."
"We will need more time than that," she replies. "There are people to consult. I cannot make these decisions on my own. I am accountable to my people."
"A wise system," Duncan says.
He leaves her there, and Laura climbs into the raptor; imagines his heavy metal eyes watching the raptor climbing into the sky.
*
He meets them, as he promises. "A short decision, then," he says, his voice heavy with irony as he boards the Galactica.
"The Council thought it best to agree with me," she replies, and thinks of all the times they've disagreed; thinks of Baltar and thinks of Zarek, and thinks of a world free of Cylons.
"Tell me about the Tleilaxu," she says.
She thinks of Billy.
END
eta: I've written some timestamps for this fic, per request, and they can be found here.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Re: OH TRIS
Date: 2006-11-26 09:57 am (UTC)I would not be opposed to an entire series of BSG/Dune crossovers featuring Jessica and Irulan and the twins making pilots realize that if married-to-not-each-other twins are clearly hooking up, really, they've no excuse.