Log in

12 July 2006 @ 10:02 am
The Speech...  
Who: Roslin, Billy, Galatica Crew, Press, and the Fleet
Where: Galatica's Hangar Bar
When: About 30 minutes into the height of the crisis
What: Roslin prepares and makes her speech to the fleet.

It wasn't her conventional meeting place. The confined and tight room upon Colonial One where most press events was held was almost becoming comfortable to Laura Roslin. To... President Roslin. She still had to get used to that. But the hallowed and wide deck of Galatica where this press conference was being held was entirely different and more overwhelming an experience than the confines of her ship. She'd only been here twice before, and each time death and tension crowded the place. Now it was her turn to take the stage, to give them reassurances of their survival and appease their worried hearts.

She could not view this as a chore. She could not begin to dread these speeches and conferences. These were now her life, and not only because of politics. They were her life because the civilian population -needed- that reassurance. Because the few citizens of the colonies left were running, terrified, ragged and uncertain of their futures each day they woke from bed. These conferences were no longer a dog and pony so to assure the candidate their winning the next election, they were the promise to her people that they would survive. They were words of hope and strength. And sometimes they were the only straight forward, non-gossip information any of these civilian ships ever really recieved.

All of this crossed through Laura's mind as she stood in the tiny, tiny bathroom off Commander Adama's quarters. He'd given her brief use of his cabin so she mind refresh and look over her notes for just a few moments. She promised Billy she would return in just a minute and slipped away. Now, she truly wasn't sure how long ago that was. She just stood there, in the dim lighting, staring at herself in the mirror. President Laura Roslin. Not just President, though, she and Commander Adama were their last hope. And the fleet needed to know that their was still hope to be alive.

A quiet knock slightly shook her from her ramble of thoughts. "Coming, Billy..." That's the only person she suspected it would be, as he was the only one here at the moment. She had been too long. They would be late. If he didn't keep her on schedule, she really didn't know where she'd be some days. Quickly, she set to buttoning the few holes upon her darkly auburn satin jacket. It was the same jacket she was wearing during the attack of the colonies. One of three she owned. Truth be told, she liked it the best, but it always served as a rather stinging reminder. It was also the jacket she was wearing the day she was officially sworn in as President of the Colonies. Pressing her eyes shut, she imprinted the reminder of that into her heart and mind and then turned out. The door opened to the bathroom and she stepped out to face Billy.

"Are we ready?" She asked him with that steady, surprisingly warm smile. Her game face. It's what he needed to see, what the press needed to see, and what she needed to feel.