Beta: Birgitt, Seleney
Word count: 1006
Date: August 5 th , 2006
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Pairing: Caprica-Boomer/Laura Roslin
Summary: After a Cylon attack on Galactica Boomer and Roslin are trapped in a wrecked room.
Archives: Olli's Femslash Site. Every other, please ask.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Spoilers: Season 2 episode 2.13 “Epiphanies ” and possibly spoilers for season 3.
Author's Note: The story is settled sometime in season 3. In an interview given by Grace Park I read that Caprica-Boomer would be released from prison at some point in Season 3 and this story came to my mind.
Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica is the property of Glen A. Larson, Ron Moore, David Eick Sci-Fi Channel, R & D TV, Sky and NBC Universal.
Grunting and moaning Boomer forced herself onto her hands and knees; dust and pieces of crap fell from her back clattering to the floor. There was pain all over: her back, her head, her arms and legs.
Boomer shook her head to make the dizziness go away but that made it only worse. After some minutes of quiet suffering and heavy breathing through her nose she was able to stand up. After one more deep breath Boomer rubbed her temples and looked around. She was in a lounge aboard Galactica and the whole room was a mess. Chairs lay strewn across the room; the contents of cupboards must have flown around like shrapnel. Only the tables stood were they should, and only because they were screwed to the floor.
Frak, she thought, what happened? Boomer concentrated and ignored the nausea. Finally it came to her mind: over the P.A. she had heard about a single Cylon raider. It must've been a recon mission and the raider hadn't been able to jump into hyperspace. Instead he had crashed into Galactica.
“Well,” she muttered, “I have to find a way out of here.”
Suddenly Boomer heard some shuffling. She looked around but couldn't see anyone. “Is there anyone in here?” she asked aloud.
“Y-- Yesss… I-- I'm he-- here. Pl-- Please help me.” The voice of a female, Boomer recognized. It was weak and hoarse and filled with pain.
“Wait. I'm coming,” she said and made her way to a heap of broken parts that had once been the ceiling at the far side of the room. She grabbed one piece after another and tossed them aside. There was a lot of blood on the floor and the whimpering under the pieces became weaker with every second. “Hang on. I get you out there in a minute,” Boomer said.
There was no answer.
Finally she tossed the last piece aside and saw… The encouraging smile faded from her face and turned cold. She stared down at Laura Roslin, the former President of the Twelve Colonies.
Roslin looked up as the last piece had been taken off her and she recognized her rescuer. It was the Cylon! Suddenly there was an icy grip around her heart. Roslin saw how the expression on the Cylon's face changed and she knew that she would die in this room. Then there was only darkness.
Boomer stared at the other woman. She hadn't known that Roslin was in the same room, she must have been sitting behind a partition as the raider had hit the ship. She saw the hope and relief on Roslin's face turning into fear just a second before she passed out. Boomer knew that Roslin had good reasons to fear her. She had threatened her more than once with airlocking her. She had tried to kill her baby and used Hera as a medicinal source to heal her cancer with the child's blood. And maybe Roslin had killed Hera when she no longer had a use for her; because Boomer still didn't know how her daughter had died - more than a year after her death.
Boomer stared a few more seconds at Roslin and then she knew what to do.
* * * * * *
Pain was hammering in her head, she felt sick beyond words; she drifted in a thick, much too warm darkness. She couldn't see, she couldn't touch, and she couldn't hear herself scream.
Suddenly there was a white spot in the darkness and she struggled to get there.
Blinking Roslin opened her eyes. She needed a few moments to recognize that she was still in the lounge but her head rested on something soft… maybe a pillow from one of the couches? Her leg hurt like hell and she looked at it. There was a bandage around her thigh, soaked with blood. Her blood. Was that a tee-shirt…? Roslin looked around. Who had…? Right beside her sat the Cylon. Roslin blinked once more… It… She was wearing only a tank top. Had the Cylon bandaged her wound with her own tee-shirt? It must be so… Roslin was at a loss for words. She would never have dreamt that this Cylon would save her live - or at least try to save her live. “I… You saved me?”
Boomer looked at Roslin and nodded.
“Ahm… Well, I want… I… Tha--”
“Don't,” Boomer interrupted. “I didn't do it for you.”
“I did it for myself.” Boomer looked down at her hands. “The Admiral likes you. If he finds out I let you die he will lose his trust in me again. And he would throw me out of an air lock. Personally.” Boomer thought back to the day when she and the rescued members of the Resistance had returned from Caprica. When they had found out that Cavill was a Cylon and that Boomer had done nothing about it. The way the Admiral had looked at her on the hangar deck… Never again she wanted the Admiral to look at her like this.
Roslin couldn't resist. “You really think the Admiral trusts you,” she asked contemptuously.
For a moment Boomer was quiet. Roslin's comment hadn't hurt her. What this woman thought about her was of no concern for Boomer. “You should be thankful that the Admiral trusts me enough to let me walk around his ship without chains or guards. Otherwise I wouldn't be here to save your ass.”
Roslin said nothing and stared at the ceiling.
Boomer leaned her head against the wall behind her and closed her eyes. That the Admiral trusted her - more or less - and that she didn't want to lose this trust was just one reason for saving Roslin. The other was a dream Boomer had had, a dream she had told about no one.
She dreamt of the day the old man would be proud of her.
Ten minutes later a DC-team forced open the bulkhead and a team of medics brought Roslin to sickbay.