Nervous? Gaius wasn't nervous. Why should he be nervous? He'd done this before. Rather successfully, at that. Gaius had been newly elected President of the Twelve Colonies after Laura Roslin's campaign of religious terror of the Cylons. Gaius won on his, well, not exactly his virtues. But on the truth that he was a man of science and a hope for a future. (A future that didn't involve blindly traveling through space.) Of course, that hadn't turn out exactly pleasantly, and this was an entirely different kettle of fish, as they were so fond of saying on Picon. The City was a peculiar entity, the likes of which Gaius could not say that he understood. But he was trying. Just as he was trying to find his place amongst his invisible blonde haired counterpart. (Who sat in one of the folding chairs set up on the floor near the front of the stage -- she was wearing her red dress, the one that made him mentally salivate.)
He hoped she didn't distract him ... much.
Gaius cleaned up nicely. He wore a dark blue suit and a light colored silver tie. He'd cut his hair a bit, so as not to appear too unsavory. On the bridge of his nose sat an angular, thicker rimmed pair of glasses. He might have been the antithesis of his campaign counterpart. Dark hair, shorter stature. But that was not to say that he didn't exude some measure of strength about him. Strength in his ability to lead. (And to at least believe that what he was doing was right. Even if it was frakkin' crazy.)
He stood up at the podium, a few note cards hidden from the cameras. He placed his hands on the sides of the platform and smiled out to the crowd. (Honest? Devious? He was a politician -- that aspect of his character need not be questioned. They were all the same.)
Gaius cleared his throat with a slight cough.
"I'd like to thank all of you for coming out tonight in interest and hopeful support of my campaign for mayor of The City. I'll not bore you with an opening statement. Instead I would like to open the floor to questions."