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28 April 2007 @ 09:46 pm
Planetary Paranoia  
Title: Kobol's Last Discoveries
Author: Loetitia Mauget
Wordcount: 2 155
Pairings: Laura Roslin, Thomas Zarek, Billy, Chief Tyrol, Kara (starbuck) Thrace, Sharon Valeria, Six, William Adama
Rating: Rated: MA, Rated: NC-17 Rated: R

The forest is luxuriant and green but the persistent clouds sadden it somewhat. They carry in their grey centres the mourning of humanity.  A depressing heaviness, and the water drops which run off the foliage below the sky, are like many tears that are poured on to the past and the future alike.

Moisture is everywhere, penetrating and freezing. It has rained all the day and a light fog still hangs in abeyance giving an ethereal air to their camp zone.

Somehow, they managed to make a fire. It was no more than a shy spark dissimulated between two rocks. Alas, it was not sufficient to heat them or bring much comfort to the former President and her companion, Commander William Adama.

Suddenly, a cracking sound startles them followed by a thickening silence. Adama seizes his weapon in caution and points it toward the direction of the noise. He mouths to Laura to camouflage herself behind a nearby tree trunk laid down on the ground where he then settles himself close by.

A few meters away, Zarek, the chief Tyrol, and Billy lay in the same manner. Silence is returned to their temporary camp, but the commander can not relax. A moment, which seems to last an eternity, passes without the slightest movement.

Suddenly, a small agitation in the vegetation confirms the approach of a group. Laura's breathing faulters and the man at her side tenses up such as a predator prepares to swoop down on its possible prey...

“Dad, it's us!” Lee exclaims a few meters away of them, before emerging escorted by Starbuck, Helo and cylon Sharon.

"The road is blocked in this direction. Cylons look after us in the zone downwards, at one half-day from here." He says as he is approaching his commanding officer and putting his weapon across his shoulder. Starbuck is right behind him, her hands inserted in her pockets, displaying the same attitude always defying and rebel.

"It’s what I feared." Replied the elder Adama with his harsh voice. He observed their map and added, "I want you to go out on a reconnaissance…this zone," he continued, pointing at a quadrant on the map, "this portion of the road. The terrain seems practicable, and it is our only way left now to join the land.”

"Okay. Where do you want us to meet? "

Father and son take a few moments to analyze the map again, then after finding a tactical point of rallying, the team leaves ahead.

The signal of the departure is given very quickly for the small group remaining; the vestiges of their fire hidden under ferns, so the traces of their passage will resist a surface research...


Nightfall is close, and the half-light already of the approaching evening gains ground. Their walk continues tirelessly, without respite, without idle period, all the while with this present and heavy threat. The road is only just walkable so their progression is slow. It is discouraging.

Exhausted, Laura Roslin stumbles on some of the obstacles. She is saved numerous times by an attentive and considerate hand that is always there to support her, to help her and to raise her. The Commander’s hand.

They had finally found Athena’s tomb and a general direction towards Earth, their hope, their future... Yet, Laura found much more. This adventure also has just presented her with a companion and powerful ally: William Adama.

They had defied each other during several months. Neither used direct confrontations or frontal attacks, instead, they were both more skilful. They had been subtle...  a struggle of influence and will. There was a tension between them too, and it had difficulty concealing their strong attraction, and their need to feel alive... She knows that he watched her, his eyes followed her when he thought she does not see.

On this planet and for a few long minutes, Bill’s eyes have been constantly animated. Never settling on her but always watching. They looked to her and then quickly darting away to probe anything else but her. She guesses that he is worried, but she learned to trust his instincts.

The explosion that deafens them almost does not surprise them. All of them run forwards out of instict and hurry to hide under a tunnel of foliage, seeking to shelter them in the covert of the forest. The chief Tyrol heads their withdrawal, followed by Zarek and Billy, whereas Adama brings up the rear as he fires at the cylons, and tries to gain them a few meters more.

Laura Roslin looks back to see that Bill is limping now as he follows, and the jolt of fear she feels is harsh. She is about to stop and wait for him, but he beckons to her to keep going, to keep running while he turns over to provide cover fire again...

New explosions separate them and cut off any hope of escape for him sending ice into the former president’s heart as she felt their separation deep within her. Billy takes the relay at her side and forces the group to head into the depths of Kobol.


From now on, the night has fallen well and truly. The rain does not take long to make its appearance, muffling the noises and weighing down the weight of their failure and their capture.

There is a weak gleam, strong enough to illuminate the clearing. Perhaps, thinks Laura, it is enough for a skilful bomber to land. They are not far from their last camp, and cannot detect any sign of the Commander. This realisation is enough to demoralize the most optimistic. Even Zarek has just bent his head.

The cylon centurions park the three men under a large tree, hardly sheltering them from bad weather. Two of them push Laura without care towards the ship. As they advance, she sees a cover fixed on its right wing, and forming a shelter against the wind and the rain. A glimpse of light undulates slightly in the darkness, adapting to the rhythm of the breath of this planet.

It would seem that her interrogation is programmed tonight. It is the perfect opportunity to discover the face of a new human cylon, she thinks. The former president smiles bitterly. Alas she undoubtedly believes she will not be able to notify this information to the Fleet.

They stop in front of this improvised tent, well better drawn up and much fuller than she thought at the first sight. One of the centurions unties her hands and pushes her without softness in this traitorous cocoon.


Laura needs a few seconds to adapt her eyes to the however soft, but sudden light, and the spectacle that is awaiting her leaves her breathless.

William Adama.

There, to her feet, sitting down, his head collapsed on his chest, his back against the fuselage and his arms attached to very the bomber, two chains limit his movements and block any escape attempt. A peg of tent is still there, it has been obviously used to make Adama quiet. Its end is brownish red coloured, and the left leg of Adama, already wounded, carries the marks of this constraint, deep and bleeding scratches.

With her heart going wild, she kneels by his sides, and delicately slides one hand on his shoulder to make sure that he is always alive.

"I am not dead yet." He says finally with his cavernous voice.

And she breathes out in relief, but she only exerts a soft pressure on his shoulder.

"How do you feel?"

"I've known better." He answers her with a light touch of humour.

Therefore, she examines his leg in the search of a deeper wound. Bill grimaces of pain, but the wounds are not really worth worrying and she lets go another sigh of relief.

She smiles to him, her courage recovered and her hope hardened and her resolution reinforced. Their glances cross and she is taken aback by the intensity of the trouble she can read in these blue pupils: the joy, an indefinable emotion, and a terrestrial thirst dance there with force.

Bill touches her shoulder, just a small gesture of reassurance and she faces him, then Bill drops his eyes from hers, he cannot bear the link between them…

Disconcertment also displays on her face, the shock of his desire and her own hits her, and she thinks it hits him too. Until this instant, they have not discovered the power of their appetite yet... At this moment, she knows that he wants her more than anything does. His desire is so incongruous and so naked that his violence strikes and ignites her.

On an impulse, Laura gently cups dirty and badly shaven Bill's cheek in her hand; he is leaning there, his head is still bent towards the ground and when he straightens, decided to meet Laura’s glance, he is challenging her.

"Laura" he says with a hardly perceptible voice.

Laura lowers her lips to his, but they do not touch. Bill must close this last distance between them; Bill must accept her offering and recognize his own need. Trembling, she waits, feeling his breath against her cheeks, as Bill slowly, so slowly, kisses her.

This first contact is a shock. It overwhelms her completely, a rush of adrenalin and desire explodes, and her blood runs in her veins, leaving her gasping, thirsty and amazed by the force of this craving. Laura wonders whether it is the relief to be still alive, and that they still hav time or if it is the prospect of their death that pushes them to explore this new way… It could be that these are the feelings that William Adama seems to wake up in her... She quivers with need, her entire body betraying her longing.

Bill opens her mouth with his, and she lets him lead the way, tastes her lips and the Laura’s core. His hands tighten on her shoulders, and she wonders what is going through his mind right now. He is incredibly encouraged by the soft sounds she lets escape, almost overcome by his want.

Two male hands seize her waist with force. She frames his face in her hands, keeps on kissing him feverishly almost hopelessly, getting caught up in the moment and even anticipating the sex, anticipating the voyage of his hands on her body, anticipating the fever of their union, anticipating the raucous sounds he will let escape at the top his pleasure.

Bill’s leg is still bleeding, but the pain is overcome. His senses are drunk from her, from her smell. His ears are deaf because of her moans and his mind is focused on all that is Laura.

A military jacket opens, hands move under a black sweater, under a pink shirt maker whereas they are kissing more intensely, they even exchanges small bites now. Bill’s hands are so big that they cover her back, encircling her waist, and his grip on her is so firm, that if tomorrow they are still alive, she will carry the traces of his passion. She straddles him, and then unbuttons her shirt quickly; they do not have time to lose…

She arches her back, and through the filmy-thin fabric of her bra, Bill sucks at one breast. Meanwhile she tries to unzip his trousers and releases him; he is already hard for her. Aggravated, he pulls all the garments off on his way that forbid the road of their release, of their communion, and throws them on the ground.

At Last, he impales her. His hands tighten around Laura’s waist, and they dance together on their own tempo, and celebrate the victory of their senses, their humanity and their attraction. Laura lets her head fall forward, so that her cheek brushes against his, sweaty and hot and allows him to exchange passionate kisses. Hearing the raucous growls of Bill, she becomes more and more aroused and when her name escapes his lips, it propels her at the edge of her resistance. She increases the rhythm of their stampede, she becomes wild, embarking him in its unrestrained ride...

Laura comes, the climax on her so fast she lets escape a loud cry. Her nails dig into Bill's shoulders as she tenses, shivers and lets go. Surprised and dazed, she has no time to wonder at her own reaction before Bill seizes her tighter and thrusts upward hard. A hot, muffled breath against her collarbone and a sweet bit reveal his release.

Their mouths seize one the other in the time only to share their amazement, their discovery and their bewilderment...

Shots in the vicinity bring them back to the reality without any consideration for their moment of intimacy.

Laura separates from him and their compromising position, and hurries to refasten her clothes. She helps Adama to put again his sweater in its trousers. They only did it when a side of the tent is raised letting appear, not cylons, but their saver, Lee Adama.

Covering for her proximity to Bill, Laura gestures at his injured leg; who does not dare to look at it fear of betraying them.


Outside, the rain finally ceased, and the clouds made a truce, leaving the plain of Kobol cover in a silver and mystical colour.

Later, in the raptor, their glances cross only once, and she can read in Bill’s steel eyes a culpability that almost gives her the desire for crying.


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