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Entry tags:
fic: BSG, Alternate Streams, PG
disclaimer: not mine
length: 770+
rating: PG
genre: gen, AU
characters: Laura Roslin, Leoben Conoy
notes:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
meresy is a bad influence. This is a half-assed attempt at "what if Leoben thought Laura's destiny was more important than Kara's and took her on New Caprica, instead?" (which then leads to me and palmetto discussing the probable Kara-Cally-Boomer-led resistance. Because we're predictable like that)
Alternate Streams
by ALC Punk!
After the Cylons arrived, Laura Roslin tried to settle down into the normal order of business of school and painting. Classwork that had to be completed and unsteady desks still needing children sitting at them. Most of them had none of it, though, too excited or frightened. Some of them were removed by their parents within the first few hours of occupation.
Most had already gone, of course, even before the arrival of too many raiders to run from.
Laura was proud of the way her hands hadn't shaken, even as she listened to the marching of the Centurions on the less than busy city streets.
City. As though New Caprica had made it to that sort of status.
With all of the children gone, she finished tidying up, trying to decide whether to go home to Maya and Isis or track down Kara Thrace, Galen Tyrol or one of half-dozen others who were sure to already be considering their options.
The tent flap gave it's normal leathery crack when it opened and Laura looked up to find a Cylon standing there.
Leoben Conoy smiled at her. "Laura Roslin. I've been looking for you."
For an instant, fear gripped her. Then it was gone. Surely, he couldn't be here to threaten her! Not with the instant and unconditional surrender that worm had offered them. Her gut twisted, anger filling her again. And she wished she had a gun.
There was a strangely intent expression on Leoben's face as he stepped towards her. "We have a lot to talk about, you and I."
"Frak that," she said, her voice grating with the anger gripping her.
"You'll come to understand, in time. You have a Destiny, Laura Roslin. I'm here to guide you upon that path."
Destiny. That was a crock. A laugh escaped her, "I thought that, once. Pythia." Gods. Why was she discussing something with this Cylon? He was the same twisted individual that had once set her on a path that could have fractured the fleet.
"Pythia is not always wrong--I see the patterns, the strands that merge together. Sometimes, I even understand where things change." Leoben reached out a hand to her. "Will you come with me, Laura? There is so little time."
Head coming up, she glared at him. "I think not. I'm perfectly fine right where I am. If I'm to die on this rock, I'll do it as a free woman."
"I'm not here to kill you."
"Then why are the Cylons here?" A teacher for a year, and still she sounded like the President of the Colonies. Somewhere, Gaius Baltar was probably wishing he could trade places with her, though Laura rather doubted she would have soiled her own garments in fear and desperation.
"We come in peace, Laura. We've realized the error of our ways. Mankind was never meant to be our enemy." Leoben shifted, looking almost uncertain for a moment before his demeanor resolved back into confidence. "We are each others' saviors. Prophets leading our people to their promised new beginnings. You must have felt that, the last time we talked."
"I was too busy ordering you put out an airlock," replied the woman who was still called 'Madame Airlock' by off-duty pilots and civilians who once wore a uniform alike. Though the men and women who did so were usually rather more drunk than sober in these easy days.
"Yes, you were. And Kara Thrace sent my soul to God." Leoben pointed at her, smiling, "With your help."
"Whatever you may believe--" Laura paused and laughed, reaching down to brace herself on her rickety desk. "It is not in my interest to go anywhere with you. And if you have come in peace, you will also leave in peace. Is that correct?"
Leoben's eyes turned opaque, the color reminding her of the dead goldfish she had as a child. "I'm sorry, Laura. It isn't simply that easy. You've been labeled as a threat to the Cylon-human alliance and therefore, I am bound by the terms of your president's surrender to have you arrested and put into detention. I had hoped you would come on your own cognizance."
"Now we cut to the chase," Amused, she smiled at him. "Well, then. Take me to my cell, please."
She spared a thread of worry for Maya, but knew that the young woman would be fine, in the short-term. And Cally Tyrol was her neighbor. Laura fully expected the Tyrols to be part of whatever resistance movement would begin. She could only hope that would be successful.
-f
length: 770+
rating: PG
genre: gen, AU
characters: Laura Roslin, Leoben Conoy
notes:
meresy is a bad influence. This is a half-assed attempt at "what if Leoben thought Laura's destiny was more important than Kara's and took her on New Caprica, instead?" (which then leads to me and palmetto discussing the probable Kara-Cally-Boomer-led resistance. Because we're predictable like that)Alternate Streams
by ALC Punk!
After the Cylons arrived, Laura Roslin tried to settle down into the normal order of business of school and painting. Classwork that had to be completed and unsteady desks still needing children sitting at them. Most of them had none of it, though, too excited or frightened. Some of them were removed by their parents within the first few hours of occupation.
Most had already gone, of course, even before the arrival of too many raiders to run from.
Laura was proud of the way her hands hadn't shaken, even as she listened to the marching of the Centurions on the less than busy city streets.
City. As though New Caprica had made it to that sort of status.
With all of the children gone, she finished tidying up, trying to decide whether to go home to Maya and Isis or track down Kara Thrace, Galen Tyrol or one of half-dozen others who were sure to already be considering their options.
The tent flap gave it's normal leathery crack when it opened and Laura looked up to find a Cylon standing there.
Leoben Conoy smiled at her. "Laura Roslin. I've been looking for you."
For an instant, fear gripped her. Then it was gone. Surely, he couldn't be here to threaten her! Not with the instant and unconditional surrender that worm had offered them. Her gut twisted, anger filling her again. And she wished she had a gun.
There was a strangely intent expression on Leoben's face as he stepped towards her. "We have a lot to talk about, you and I."
"Frak that," she said, her voice grating with the anger gripping her.
"You'll come to understand, in time. You have a Destiny, Laura Roslin. I'm here to guide you upon that path."
Destiny. That was a crock. A laugh escaped her, "I thought that, once. Pythia." Gods. Why was she discussing something with this Cylon? He was the same twisted individual that had once set her on a path that could have fractured the fleet.
"Pythia is not always wrong--I see the patterns, the strands that merge together. Sometimes, I even understand where things change." Leoben reached out a hand to her. "Will you come with me, Laura? There is so little time."
Head coming up, she glared at him. "I think not. I'm perfectly fine right where I am. If I'm to die on this rock, I'll do it as a free woman."
"I'm not here to kill you."
"Then why are the Cylons here?" A teacher for a year, and still she sounded like the President of the Colonies. Somewhere, Gaius Baltar was probably wishing he could trade places with her, though Laura rather doubted she would have soiled her own garments in fear and desperation.
"We come in peace, Laura. We've realized the error of our ways. Mankind was never meant to be our enemy." Leoben shifted, looking almost uncertain for a moment before his demeanor resolved back into confidence. "We are each others' saviors. Prophets leading our people to their promised new beginnings. You must have felt that, the last time we talked."
"I was too busy ordering you put out an airlock," replied the woman who was still called 'Madame Airlock' by off-duty pilots and civilians who once wore a uniform alike. Though the men and women who did so were usually rather more drunk than sober in these easy days.
"Yes, you were. And Kara Thrace sent my soul to God." Leoben pointed at her, smiling, "With your help."
"Whatever you may believe--" Laura paused and laughed, reaching down to brace herself on her rickety desk. "It is not in my interest to go anywhere with you. And if you have come in peace, you will also leave in peace. Is that correct?"
Leoben's eyes turned opaque, the color reminding her of the dead goldfish she had as a child. "I'm sorry, Laura. It isn't simply that easy. You've been labeled as a threat to the Cylon-human alliance and therefore, I am bound by the terms of your president's surrender to have you arrested and put into detention. I had hoped you would come on your own cognizance."
"Now we cut to the chase," Amused, she smiled at him. "Well, then. Take me to my cell, please."
She spared a thread of worry for Maya, but knew that the young woman would be fine, in the short-term. And Cally Tyrol was her neighbor. Laura fully expected the Tyrols to be part of whatever resistance movement would begin. She could only hope that would be successful.
-f