arrow_of_apollo | [realmof_themuse] 2009.32.F.7 - Random encounter: A reporter wi

2009.32.F.7 - Random encounter: A reporter with a grudge

There had probably been fewer than thirty people in the room when he'd been sworn in, but the newly-appointed President Leland Joseph Adama would have sworn he shaken at least two hundred hands in the last hour, if the cramp in his fingers was any indication. Glad-handing was not his very least favorite thing about being involved in politics, but it wasn't far from the bottom of the list.

But now, the reporters were gone, no doubt in the press room on the deck below him, turning scrawled notes into stories for broadcast. Tom Zarek was probably among them, spinning stories and encouraging them to slip in a good word or two about himself. The Admiral was climbing into the Raptor that would take him back to Galactica and Tory Foster was taking a well-deserved break. Sitting down at his desk, Lee closed his eyes, grateful for the conspicuous and welcome silence.

The silence, like so many other things since the Cylon attack, did not last long.

"Mr. President?"

Lee's head angled up to spot the woman standing just outside of the entrance to the office. Brown suit, reddish-blonde hair cut to her chin, an expression of almost permanent seriousness-- Lee recognized her. "Ms. Palacios, I dismissed the press corps twenty minutes ago."

"I know, Mr. President, but I do just have one last question."

With a sigh, Lee reminded himself that the last thing he wanted the people of the fleet to remember him for was being tight-lipped, not now. "You have five minutes, Ms. Palacios."

She entered the office and took long strides to sit in front of the desk. "Playa, and thank you, Mr. President."

With a tight smile, Lee nodded his head. "Your question, Playa?"

"Just how long, sir, are you planning on letting your father sit and wait for Laura Roslin?"

Lee nearly winced; mentally, he did. He shouldn't have expected it to be an easy one. "My father resigned his commission, Playa. That's entirely up to him."

Tilting her head as if not quite understanding his answer, Playa pressed on. "Isn't he sitting in one of Galactica's Raptors? That seems like he's still involved in a military capacity of some sort."

"Admiral Tigh--" Lee did his best not to cough after the words left his lips-- "determined that particular craft was something we could spare to the mission, and as CO of the Galactica, that's a call totally in his rights. I support it, of course. It seems like a reasonable investment towards the hope of rejoining the people on that Baseship: not only Laura Roslin, but a number of Fleet personnel... not to mention Gaius Baltar, as well."

Now it was the reporter's turn to hide a wince. Playa Palacios' indiscretions had become fleet scuttlebutt not long after Gaius Baltar had risen to the Presidency himself. "Begging the President's pardon, sir, but that seems an uncharacteristic stance, considering New Caprica."

Lee sat back. "New Caprica was a completely different situation. There is little comparison between allowing one man and one small Raptor to serve as a beacon in the hopes of our lost fellow humans returning and allowing the fleet's only means of protection fall to an overwhelming enemy force."

"You were still willing to leave us all behind," said Playa, her face tight and pale.

"Yes," Lee answered gravely. "I was."

"Would you be now?"

Silence.

Finally, Lee took a breath. "Under the exact same circumstances?" Playa nodded. "Then yes," Lee replied. "I would still be willing. I might still be wrong, the way I may have been before... but I would still be willing."

Now it was the reporter's turn to take a breath. Lee thought he saw Playa's hand shake, probably with anger. "Thank you, Mr. President, that's all I had."

"I'll see you at the next press conference, then, Ms. Palacios."

She was in such a hurry to leave that she didn't correct him. Lee leaned back in his chair and sighed.

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