Imagine Chapter 1 (Starting Over)
Chapter one - Starting Over
Very Alternate Universe with familiar characters/scenes
Not my characters and if I could get money from them, trust me, I would.
Rated T
Set approximately two years after Galactica's Decommissioning. However, no cylon attacks on the colonies happened.
Chapter one - Starting Over
William Adama walked slowly towards Admiral James O'Neal's office. He never rushed anymore. The demands of commanding a battlestar had been replaced with tedious paper shuffling that was disguised as employment.
Maybe he should have gone back to working on a freighter after Galactica's decommissioning, he thought. At least he would then have been off the ground instead of stuck in this semi-retirement limbo on Picon.
He had no clue as to where his life was headed. He had no wife or family to go home to. Zak was gone. Anyone else he had held dear was busy living their own life. Lee was serving as a Major on the Pegasus. Saul and Ellen were flitting from one casino to another on Caprica. Kara was now a Captain on the Columbia. Still in trouble with her superiors if rumours were to be believed. No longer did he even have his crew to be his surrogate family. He was now truly alone.
Being summoned to Jim's office was at least breaking up the boredom of the day. Jim's assistant told him to go right in.
Jim's office was a lot larger than his small cubicle. It made him nostalgic for his quarters on the Galactica. He hadn't even brought his own desk to his Picon office. It and his chair were stuck in the corner of his three-year-leased apartment, covered with books he kept meaning to tidy up and place on the new bookshelf.
"Bill," Jim said with a salute before motioning him to sit. "Do you realise what the date is?"
It was a rhetorical question, so Bill remained silent as the Admiral continued. "Forty-five years, Bill. You've chalked up forty-five years of service. They're going to pin a frakkin' medal to your chest, Bill." O'Neal laughed at his own joke.
"A medal, sir?"
"A Medal of Distinction. The Godsdamn President is presenting it no less. Two weeks today. Here on Picon. Give my assistant a list of anyone you want invited."
"Thank you, sir. I'm not sure what to say." What could he say? Between his disastrous last mission on the Valkyrie and his less than important situation here now on Picon, he wouldn't exactly agree that the last couple of years had been years of "distinction".
0.0.0
He was getting old and he'd put on weight. His dress uniform was feeling tight in places it just wasn't supposed to be tight in. It would do for today but if he had to wear it again he'd either have to get it adjusted or visit the gym. He glanced in the mirror again and wondered what the president would think. The president hated him, this he was pretty sure of. Their first meeting had not gone well. He couldn't imagine either of them forgetting it. He tugged at his collar before putting back on his glasses and heading for the ceremony. Let's just get this over with, he thought.
0.0.0
"On behalf of everyone here in this room, it is my pleasure to present you, Commander Adama, with the Medal of Distinction for your forty-five years of courageous service to the Colonial Fleet."
He bent his head so the president could reach to put a sash over his head.
"Congratulations."
The president held out a hand which he took and shook briefly. He glanced around the room and was surprised to see Lee and Kara amongst the guests. He hadn't been sure if either would attend.
"Thank you," he said into the microphone on the dais.
The president was now standing with the other dignitaries behind him.
"This is an honour. I won't bore you with a story about the good old days. As much as I would love to return to all their glory, of being called Husker and the adventure that incites, I'm afraid this old man's body wouldn't hack it anymore. Especially my knees."
A polite chuckle spread across the room at his attempt at humour.
"The president would have to create a new tax just to pay for my medical expenses if I got in a viper again."
This time he clearly heard the president's chuckle behind him.
"I would, however, like everyone to observe a minute of silence to reflect on the soldiers who can't be here today. The soldiers who never got the chance to clock up forty five years in the Colonial Fleet. The soldiers who died during the Cylon War. The soldiers who died at the hands of terrorists or criminals. The soldiers who died due to accidents or friendly fire. And to the families and friends of those soldiers who were left behind to cope with their grief. I ask if we can have a minute's silence to remember. Lest we forget."
The auditorium remained silent as per his wishes. After the minute, he turned back to the microphone. "We will remember. So say we all."
"So say we all," the audience repeated back sombrely.
0.0.0
Well, he'd done it again, thought the president. William Adama's speeches were certainly mood killers. Thank the Lords the new position he was about to be appointed to didn't require him to be in public relations.
He did, however, have all the qualities they were looking for, such as loyalty and patriotism to the Colonies, in addition to forty-five years worth of knowledge and experience.
There were other qualities he did possess that the president was not so sure about. His pride, arrogance and stoicism for starters. Plus his infernal stubbornness. How were they going to put up with that?
There was something about him, though, that just couldn't be ignored. Even though one could say his speech was depressing, it was still heartfelt and potentially inspiring. There was also something that shone from his eyes. Intelligence, definitely, but something else as well, something undefinable. It was something that made you think you could trust him in a crisis.
Several key military personnel had been questioned with regards to Commander Adama and the same two words seemed to keep coming up in their conversations - trusting and trustworthy. Just what they needed for this assignment.
0.0.0
"I beg your pardon?"
Commander Adama knew he was getting old but now he was worried about his hearing. Had the president just told him that he was going to be assigned to a new position on Caprica City? That he was required to start there next week in the capacity of 'Military Adviser'?
"I'm a bit confused, doesn't the head of the Admiralty advise you in military matters?" he asked.
"No," said the President, "you misunderstand me. I don't need someone to advise me on military matters, I need someone to advise me in the ways of the military. It's been glaringly obvious since my appointment to office that, with my background, I am utterly clueless when it comes to the military. I need someone to ensure that they know the correct protocols so that I don't embarrass myself, as well as someone who can - how shall we say it? - cut through all the bullshit to ensure I am getting the correct advice."
Did the president just say 'bullshit' to him? Was he really about to say yes to this job offer? Living on Caprica was a big plus, of course. At least he would be able to see some old friends, including Saul, occasionally. Was it worth working with the president though? The jury was still out on that one.
"So can I expect to see you in an office in the presidential wing of the Caprican Government Building next week?"
"Yes, I suppose you will, Madam President," he said.
She offered her hand to shake on the deal. He couldn't help but notice how her pale hand contrasted starkly with the dark skin of his own. He wondered, not for the first time, what it would feel like if that hand ran its silky softness down his body. He quickly snatched his hand away and shook his head to clear it of such dangerous thoughts. He kept his eyes focused on the ground and hoped she never noticed his sudden withdrawal. It was most likely an unrealistic hope as he doubted she would ever miss anything. If he was going to work with her on a regular basis, he would have to attempt to guard himself against his involuntary attraction towards her.
0.0.0.
Laura Roslin tried to look into William Adama's eyes but he was deliberately looking away. She hadn't thought it was a mistake to trust him but now she fleetingly had doubts. She tried to imagine William Adama rushing off to the media to expose the secrets the President of the Twelve Colonies but somehow he just didn't seem the type. She didn't think he was secretly yearning for ten minutes of fame either. No, she had to trust someone and she had decided it would be William Adama. She was going to stick with that decision.
A young man had come over to join them. She assumed it was his son who she remembered had flown his Viper at the Galactica's decommissioning ceremony. They had the same distinctive blue eyes. Other than that, there didn't seem much resemblance physically, though she couldn't help but detect their matching mannerisms. By his stance, the younger Adama evidently shared his father's arrogance and pride.
William Adama was politely introducing his son to her - Lee Adama, he said, a Major on the Pegasus.
"Oh," she said, "the Pegasus, under Admiral Cain?"
"You've met?" Major Adama asked.
"Yes." She couldn't think of much else to say. Maybe the less she said about her views on Admiral Cain and her rigid attitudes, the better.
She glanced over at the Commander again. He was watching her and this time she was the one to look away. She would have to remember to be careful around him. He clearly didn't miss a great deal. She was sure his beautiful blue eyes could penetrate straight down to her soul.
She wondered suddenly what those eyes would look like when they were looking down at you and filled with passion.
Ridiculous Laura, she chided herself, you have enough problems to worry about without adding illicit thoughts of William Adama to the list.
Link to chapter 2
Very Alternate Universe with familiar characters/scenes
Not my characters and if I could get money from them, trust me, I would.
Rated T
Set approximately two years after Galactica's Decommissioning. However, no cylon attacks on the colonies happened.
Chapter one - Starting Over
William Adama walked slowly towards Admiral James O'Neal's office. He never rushed anymore. The demands of commanding a battlestar had been replaced with tedious paper shuffling that was disguised as employment.
Maybe he should have gone back to working on a freighter after Galactica's decommissioning, he thought. At least he would then have been off the ground instead of stuck in this semi-retirement limbo on Picon.
He had no clue as to where his life was headed. He had no wife or family to go home to. Zak was gone. Anyone else he had held dear was busy living their own life. Lee was serving as a Major on the Pegasus. Saul and Ellen were flitting from one casino to another on Caprica. Kara was now a Captain on the Columbia. Still in trouble with her superiors if rumours were to be believed. No longer did he even have his crew to be his surrogate family. He was now truly alone.
Being summoned to Jim's office was at least breaking up the boredom of the day. Jim's assistant told him to go right in.
Jim's office was a lot larger than his small cubicle. It made him nostalgic for his quarters on the Galactica. He hadn't even brought his own desk to his Picon office. It and his chair were stuck in the corner of his three-year-leased apartment, covered with books he kept meaning to tidy up and place on the new bookshelf.
"Bill," Jim said with a salute before motioning him to sit. "Do you realise what the date is?"
It was a rhetorical question, so Bill remained silent as the Admiral continued. "Forty-five years, Bill. You've chalked up forty-five years of service. They're going to pin a frakkin' medal to your chest, Bill." O'Neal laughed at his own joke.
"A medal, sir?"
"A Medal of Distinction. The Godsdamn President is presenting it no less. Two weeks today. Here on Picon. Give my assistant a list of anyone you want invited."
"Thank you, sir. I'm not sure what to say." What could he say? Between his disastrous last mission on the Valkyrie and his less than important situation here now on Picon, he wouldn't exactly agree that the last couple of years had been years of "distinction".
0.0.0
He was getting old and he'd put on weight. His dress uniform was feeling tight in places it just wasn't supposed to be tight in. It would do for today but if he had to wear it again he'd either have to get it adjusted or visit the gym. He glanced in the mirror again and wondered what the president would think. The president hated him, this he was pretty sure of. Their first meeting had not gone well. He couldn't imagine either of them forgetting it. He tugged at his collar before putting back on his glasses and heading for the ceremony. Let's just get this over with, he thought.
0.0.0
"On behalf of everyone here in this room, it is my pleasure to present you, Commander Adama, with the Medal of Distinction for your forty-five years of courageous service to the Colonial Fleet."
He bent his head so the president could reach to put a sash over his head.
"Congratulations."
The president held out a hand which he took and shook briefly. He glanced around the room and was surprised to see Lee and Kara amongst the guests. He hadn't been sure if either would attend.
"Thank you," he said into the microphone on the dais.
The president was now standing with the other dignitaries behind him.
"This is an honour. I won't bore you with a story about the good old days. As much as I would love to return to all their glory, of being called Husker and the adventure that incites, I'm afraid this old man's body wouldn't hack it anymore. Especially my knees."
A polite chuckle spread across the room at his attempt at humour.
"The president would have to create a new tax just to pay for my medical expenses if I got in a viper again."
This time he clearly heard the president's chuckle behind him.
"I would, however, like everyone to observe a minute of silence to reflect on the soldiers who can't be here today. The soldiers who never got the chance to clock up forty five years in the Colonial Fleet. The soldiers who died during the Cylon War. The soldiers who died at the hands of terrorists or criminals. The soldiers who died due to accidents or friendly fire. And to the families and friends of those soldiers who were left behind to cope with their grief. I ask if we can have a minute's silence to remember. Lest we forget."
The auditorium remained silent as per his wishes. After the minute, he turned back to the microphone. "We will remember. So say we all."
"So say we all," the audience repeated back sombrely.
0.0.0
Well, he'd done it again, thought the president. William Adama's speeches were certainly mood killers. Thank the Lords the new position he was about to be appointed to didn't require him to be in public relations.
He did, however, have all the qualities they were looking for, such as loyalty and patriotism to the Colonies, in addition to forty-five years worth of knowledge and experience.
There were other qualities he did possess that the president was not so sure about. His pride, arrogance and stoicism for starters. Plus his infernal stubbornness. How were they going to put up with that?
There was something about him, though, that just couldn't be ignored. Even though one could say his speech was depressing, it was still heartfelt and potentially inspiring. There was also something that shone from his eyes. Intelligence, definitely, but something else as well, something undefinable. It was something that made you think you could trust him in a crisis.
Several key military personnel had been questioned with regards to Commander Adama and the same two words seemed to keep coming up in their conversations - trusting and trustworthy. Just what they needed for this assignment.
0.0.0
"I beg your pardon?"
Commander Adama knew he was getting old but now he was worried about his hearing. Had the president just told him that he was going to be assigned to a new position on Caprica City? That he was required to start there next week in the capacity of 'Military Adviser'?
"I'm a bit confused, doesn't the head of the Admiralty advise you in military matters?" he asked.
"No," said the President, "you misunderstand me. I don't need someone to advise me on military matters, I need someone to advise me in the ways of the military. It's been glaringly obvious since my appointment to office that, with my background, I am utterly clueless when it comes to the military. I need someone to ensure that they know the correct protocols so that I don't embarrass myself, as well as someone who can - how shall we say it? - cut through all the bullshit to ensure I am getting the correct advice."
Did the president just say 'bullshit' to him? Was he really about to say yes to this job offer? Living on Caprica was a big plus, of course. At least he would be able to see some old friends, including Saul, occasionally. Was it worth working with the president though? The jury was still out on that one.
"So can I expect to see you in an office in the presidential wing of the Caprican Government Building next week?"
"Yes, I suppose you will, Madam President," he said.
She offered her hand to shake on the deal. He couldn't help but notice how her pale hand contrasted starkly with the dark skin of his own. He wondered, not for the first time, what it would feel like if that hand ran its silky softness down his body. He quickly snatched his hand away and shook his head to clear it of such dangerous thoughts. He kept his eyes focused on the ground and hoped she never noticed his sudden withdrawal. It was most likely an unrealistic hope as he doubted she would ever miss anything. If he was going to work with her on a regular basis, he would have to attempt to guard himself against his involuntary attraction towards her.
0.0.0.
Laura Roslin tried to look into William Adama's eyes but he was deliberately looking away. She hadn't thought it was a mistake to trust him but now she fleetingly had doubts. She tried to imagine William Adama rushing off to the media to expose the secrets the President of the Twelve Colonies but somehow he just didn't seem the type. She didn't think he was secretly yearning for ten minutes of fame either. No, she had to trust someone and she had decided it would be William Adama. She was going to stick with that decision.
A young man had come over to join them. She assumed it was his son who she remembered had flown his Viper at the Galactica's decommissioning ceremony. They had the same distinctive blue eyes. Other than that, there didn't seem much resemblance physically, though she couldn't help but detect their matching mannerisms. By his stance, the younger Adama evidently shared his father's arrogance and pride.
William Adama was politely introducing his son to her - Lee Adama, he said, a Major on the Pegasus.
"Oh," she said, "the Pegasus, under Admiral Cain?"
"You've met?" Major Adama asked.
"Yes." She couldn't think of much else to say. Maybe the less she said about her views on Admiral Cain and her rigid attitudes, the better.
She glanced over at the Commander again. He was watching her and this time she was the one to look away. She would have to remember to be careful around him. He clearly didn't miss a great deal. She was sure his beautiful blue eyes could penetrate straight down to her soul.
She wondered suddenly what those eyes would look like when they were looking down at you and filled with passion.
Ridiculous Laura, she chided herself, you have enough problems to worry about without adding illicit thoughts of William Adama to the list.
Link to chapter 2