it's been twenty - four hours since that alarm had last blared across every ship in the galaxy, and yet she can still hear it's faint cry ringing in ears. presence had been requested the moment the skys had cleared, the moment that a shuttle could be launched into space with only minimal worry of being ambushed. she made them wait, if only to attempt to close eyes for longer than thirty - two minutes. a measly three hours is managed before she just gives up all together. it's not within her nature to prioritize own health, not when duty awaits - and you are so eager to answer its beck and call. that is why she finds herself aboard this military vessel, awaiting orders, begging to be needed. she'd be lying if she said she came without ulterior motive.
when the attacks began she had been fortunate enough to have been leaving the capital - a spur of the moment decision that had ultimately saved her life. she was going home, to visit her nana . . . the thought of her alone is enough to make beverly nauseous. she hasn't the faintest idea about what happened, but it isn't hard to guess. she hasn't had the time to think about her, but preoccupation has begun to dwindle, and she was beginning to mourn. there isn't time for that, focus on what you can do. what you have control of. enough time has passed now for her to truly grasp the notion that the forty - third person in line of succession for presidency had been sworn in, and that person was laura roslin. the suggestion is comical, but the reality is something she can hardly grasp. she has to see her. she has to give her a piece of her mind. you have to know that she is okay.
like a prayer answered [ perhaps to someone else's misfortune ] her attention is needed in the medical bay. yes, this is something that she was good at, something that would keep her busy. she isn't given any information on who needs her, or what exactly is needed of her other than an examination. it certainly isn't urgent if there is no debriefing - then why is she having to broaden steps in order to catch up ? she's lead into the room, and then left alone, and she can't help but think how unprofessional it all was . . . no wonder she was needed.
❝ hello, i'm doctor crusher. doctor cottle is busy at the moment, so i'll be performing your examination. ❞ it's all spoken as she enters the room, on one breath, without pause - a routine that she has mastered. it isn't until she has finished this speech that she realizes whom it is being recited to. ❝ oh my gods - laura. ❞ it's a soft gasp of elation. eyes widen with relief and she cannot deny herself the instinctual desire to reach out and touch.
