Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

Two Truths and a Lie

Chapter 1: Escape

The fleet was still trying to restore power as the sensors picked up Cylon activity. Admiral Adama had noticed as President Roslin looked ill for a moment before putting her glasses back on. "We need more time," Adama said to himself.

He then heard a radio message. "Apollo to Galactica. I have Starbuck out her. Repeat, I have Starbuck out here."

"Apollo, get your bird back here. What the hell are you doing out there? You left the military," the admiral reminded.

"Sir, I know it's hard to believe, but it's really Starbuck," Lee told him.

Adama sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes, not wanting to deal with that particular situation. "Then bring her back with you. We'll deal with this when you land."

"She has jump coordinates, sir," Lee added.

"Send them through," Adama responded. He looked at them along with Roslin.

"This is one of the craziest things I've ever heard. She's back from the dead and she has jump coordinates," he told the president.

Roslin looked over the coordinates carefully. "I think we should follow this one. The Cylons will be right on top of us at any moment."

He decided to trust her and the fleet followed the coordinates, leaving an empty nebula for the confused Cylons to find. Upon coming out of the jump, Roslin gripped the table. Adama caught her elbow and noticed how pale she looked. "Admiral, I'm not feeling- I mean I need to-"

Catching Tory's eye, he seemed to understand. "Take the president to the bathroom," he instructed, pointing to a door on one end of CIC.

The two women hastily left him and he looked over at Dee. "Lieutenant, scan the area for Cylon activity."

"None, sir. We've lost them for now," she relayed.

He was about to ask her to scan for the low-grade static that he had been hearing for the last couple of days when the phone rang. The admiral picked it up. "Adama. What's up, Chief? They're back? I'll be right down. I want to question both of them," he responded.

"So she's not a ghost after all," Tigh remarked.

Adama raised an eyebrow. "Ghost, not likely. Cylon? At the moment, I can't afford to hope for much else. Helo, CIC is yours."

"Aye, sir," the captain stated.

Tigh and Adama headed for the door as Tory appeared again, making her way toward them. "I'll take the president to Life Station."

"Good idea," Adama said with a nod.

They reached the docking bay with a security team. Lee had just exited his Viper. The other pilot pulled off her helmet, shaking loose her cropped blonde hair. The woman claiming to be Kara 'Starbuck' Thrace exited the Viper, grinning broadly at Lee. He only saw her, not his father, and definitely not the group of armed marines. The two embraced tightly.

"Kara, what- I mean how are you- you're alive!" Lee exclaimed.

"Someone has to save your sorry ass, Apollo," she retorted, smirking. Then she looked past Lee and saw the security team. "Lee, what's going on?"

He felt her stiffen in his arms and released her, turning abruptly. Adama and Tigh stepped ahead of the marines. "Mr. Adama, you've got a lot to answer for," Tigh commented.

"Dad, Colonel, it's Kara. What's with them?" Lee asked, gesturing toward the marines.

"We're taking her into custody. We need to know whether or not she's a Cylon," Adama responded.

As he stood close to the other two, he eyed Kara with piercing scrutiny, as if looking for some metal clue that would reveal her to be the enemy. "Sir, I can explain-"

"You can do that later. You're staying in the brig until I know for a fact who and what you are," Adama interjected.

"But you can't do that!" Lee protested.

Adama stood directly in front of his son, looking at him darkly through his glasses. "This is a matter of fleet security."

"But-" Lee felt twenty years younger, lost as to what should be said anymore.

"I'm putting you in the brig too," his father added.

Lee glared at Adama as the marines began to usher him over to the door. "What for?" he demanded.

"Insubordination," Adama seethed. As Kara and his son were led from the room, he turned toward Tigh. "Saul, I need you to head back to CIC."

Tigh nodded, but asked, "Where are you going?"

"I'll be in Life Station," the admiral answered.

"Another mess to fix?" Tigh asked.

"Something like that," Adama replied as they went their separate ways.

As Adama entered Life Station, he sought out Dr. Cottle first. The old doctor had just left a pilot with a broken leg as the admiral caught up to him. "How's the president?"

Cottle sighed and headed toward his desk. Then he handed the admiral a print-out of a few scans. "I figured you'd ask. It's not the cancer. I think it's a reaction to the diloxin. It's making her nauseous, but what I can't figure out is why she's dizzy. I'm still waiting on two more tests. Might be the chamalla."

Adama nodded, barely glancing at the print-outs. "Can I see her?"

The doctor pointed to a curtained area. "She's right over there. I think her aide went to find her a glass of water. Don't talk to long though, I gave her some pain medication and it might make her drowsy."

The admiral walked over to Roslin's bedside, sitting in a plastic green chair. Though her black suit jacket was draped over the end of the bed, she still wore the rest of her ensemble. Her hair had been moved to one side of the pillow as she dosed, and her glasses sat on the end table next to the bed. As he scooted closer, his foot brushed an empty yellow bucket. The sound of the plastic scraping across the floor woke her.

She blinked at him a moment before trying to sit up. "Did we escape?" she asked hoarsely.

He leaned forward to place a hand at her back so that she did not sit up too quickly. "Yes. The woman calling herself Kara Thrace was right. So far they haven't followed us."

Roslin nodded, but then quickly shut her eyes as the room began to spin. "Where's Tory?"

"Getting you a glass of water," Adama responded. "How are you feeling?"

She shot him a glare that would have sent Gaius Baltar running to the nearest airlock. "Pissed off, dizzy, and cold," she retorted, rubbing her hands up and down her arms.

Then she moved the covers back from the bed and pulled them around her as she remained in a sitting position. He handed her the suit jacket. She slipped in on, wearing it under the bed covers. "Better?" he inquired.

"No," she replied tersely. He began to glance at the other beds, hoping to borrow some blankets. "And I will not take anyone else's blankets so that they're cold while I'm not, Admiral."

He turned back to her, sighing heavily. I have to fix this. Neither one of us can keep up with the never-ending situations if we're fighting. "Laura, I know you're still mad at me for Baltar's trial, but there's something you need to know. It was the hardest decision I've ever had to make. It had to be that way though. We can't just dump the blame for everything on one man."

Instinctively she knew that he was right, but her anger at his perceived betrayal still lingered at the back of her throat. "We went through all that work on the prosecution to build a case," she began quietly, looking at the end of the bed. Then she faced him. "I was on a death list. That man had my name on a death list and you let him go! What the frak were you thinking?"

"That Lee was right. I'm not excusing what he did to you, that I wanted to put him in the brig for, but he was right in saying that humanity's become a gang in some ways. Truth is that I wanted to airlock Baltar almost as much as you did, but then I realized what the trial had turned into: a personal vendetta. We're no better than the Cylons if we live off of personal vendettas," Adama tried to explain.

Tears pricked her eyes and though they moved no farther, he could see that the wall she had put up was beginning to crack. "That's easy for you to say, isn't it? You have life; I don't."

That simple statement sent a chill up his spine. He reached out to find one of her hands. Though it was still gripping the blankets, he enclosed one of his hands around it. "We all have our penance, don't we? Mine is that I'll survive to watch those I love suffer and die. I wish you could forgive me. I never meant to hurt you."

She was not expecting such a heartfelt, touching speech from him, and could not meet his eyes. Did that mean he loved her too? She tried not to let her mind wander in that direction. "You'll have to give me time, Admiral. I've got some thinking to do," she told him. Then she shivered. "Deities, why am I so cold?"

He had noticed that she was blinking not to counteract dizziness anymore, but to stay awake. "Why don't you rest for a while?"

"That's the first thing you've said all day that sounds like a good idea," she remarked, trying to blink away the sleepy haze creeping into her eyes as she grasped not only his hand, but his sleeve. "Cold."

Glancing around the room again for anything he could give her as an extra blanket, an odd thought suddenly struck him. I haven't done this since high school, but it's better than letting her shiver because she's stubborn, he resolved, unbuttoning his own uniform jacket. He stood, draping his jacket over her shoulders. "Better?"

She let go of the blankets to pull his jacket around her. The wool, plus the warmth felt wonderful. For a brief moment, she seemed content. Then she looked up at him with her eyebrow raised. "What is your crew going to think if they see you walking through the halls in just your tanks?"

"That I'm on my way to my quarters and very busy," he answered.

"I hope, for your sake that they buy it," she stated with a yawn. Laying back down, she asked him, "Where are Lee and Captain Thrace?"

"Actually they're in the brig," he explained.

"Fine with me." Her eyes closed as she rested her head on the pillow. "Bill, don't forget to let the dog out. He's been scratching at the door," Roslin mumbled before sleep claimed her again.