- Chapter One -
It all began after the accident…
The Raptor hurtled through the void, its engines groaning under full power. Perched in the cockpit pilot's seat, Racetrack remained composed at the controls, distanced from the chaos behind her. She watched the inky blackness of space flashing by outside it seemed definitely more peaceful than raging activity. Urgent instructions and abrupt evaluations emanated from the crowd gathered around the two unconscious figures laid on the floor of the rear bay. She hoped that she could remain composed and alert just long enough to bring the Raptor to a safe landing at the Galatica. It was the end of a long evening and it had ended with the briefest taste of tragedy for the crew of the Raptor.
As she opened her eyes the world around her began to emerge. Distinct shapes and sharp lines rose through the milky light that flooded her vision. It was a disorientating sensation, made worse by the persistent aching in her head. Half blinded, she reached out before herself; a lone outstretched arm silhouetted against the glow. But as she reached out, something startled her. The feeling of cold, solid Plexiglas beneath her probing fingertips. As she tested the firm surface that seemed to spread around her, many different threatening thoughts flooded her persuadable mind. Had she been captured? Worse still, was she in a farm? The images in her mind were enough to awaken the sense aggression that had been subdued within her. She lashed out at the transparent walls, pounding them with her fists until the material shuddered with a resounding force. After a minute of seemingly futile protest, she slumped back onto the soft material of the bunk she had awoken on moments before. Sat on the bunk, she began to contemplate how she had actually come to be in the Plexiglas cell and if there would be any way out.
It was as she waited expectantly that a dark silhouette emerged from the light, its amorphous shape slowly refining into the form of a man. She half expected that it was a Simon and as the man leaned towards the Plexiglas, she gripped her fist together in expectation. Her fears were unfounded and amidst the noxious scent of fumarella leaf she heard a familiar voice.
"Kara" It was Cottle. His growling tone sounding clear through the muffling Plexiglas.
"Doctor Cottle. What's going on, what am I doing in here?"
Cottle moved nearer to the transparent material that divided them. Kara was strong person and very little truly scared her but something about Cottle's encouraging smile left her unsettled.
"There was an accident Kara, do you remember?"
She shook her head. She had no memory of anything beyond waking up.
"You were leading a team to one of the freighters. Now, I don't know too much about it myself, and I don't want to worry you unnecessarily" Cottle paused to clear his throat and consider what he had to say next. "Now whilst you were on that freighter, a riot broke out. In the middle of the riot someone threw something, we think it might be biological"
"Biological" Te word stuck in her mind like a poisoned splinter of threatening thoughts.
"Now we've taken the precaution of isolating you, this is just to be totally sure. I'm sorry about the cube, we had to improvise when you were brought in; this was all we could find"
Kara nodded. She could accept the importance of quarantine on a ship so crowded, but being stuck within a Plexiglas cube still seemed a frustrating prospect.
"And how long have I got in here?"
Cottle rubbed the warped flesh of chin in a moment of strained thought. His eyes rolled away from Kara before slowly falling back onto her.
"If all goes well, like it is now, you should be out in three days"
Kara groaned. She was thankful for the medical attention but couldn't avoid her personal displeasure with being removed from life for so long.
"Thanks anyway" Kara managed to smile, a slight parting of her lips through the painful aching that continued throughout her head. Before Cottle could walk away she ventured a fleeting question. "Was anyone else involved?"
Cottle had almost wandered back into sickbay when he turned back to face her with a pitying smile. "Tyrol"
She paused, feeling a spontaneous sense of relief. It was a relief which she could not quite understand. Although, Kara quietly suspected that it was because she feared that she might have heard another name. She sought to distract herself by levelling an unexpected question at the retreating doctor.
"How is he?"
"The Chief" Cottle grinned knowingly. "He's healthy. He's also pretty frustrated though, I think he'll be okay once he settles down"
Sat some distance from Kara's transparent cube, the aging doctor took a minute to relax and contemplate his difficult decision. He had chosen not to tell Kara about the desperately concerned visitor she had received whilst she slept under medication. It was not normally his place to keep secrets from patients, but he had done it for her good. He had already dealt with Tyrol's anger that day and he did not want the responsibility of having to calm down an anxious or frustrated Kara. This way everyone benefited: Adama left the sickbay feeling relieved and upbeat, Kara had no knowledge and he could relax, with no more displeased patients on his register. Cottle lit a cigarette and eased back on his chair; everything was going brilliantly.
Nimble fingers fumbled in the confined, shadowy compartment. The air was thick with the stench of burnt oil and warm tylium that seemed to fill the hangar deck from morning to night. Daily operations meant frequent flights and the more times a Raptor went on operations; the more likely it was to develop failures. Only two members of the deck crew were ever around so early in the shift, so as to be able to deal with these failures; Galen Tyrol and the lowly specialist known to everyone as Cally. It never mattered that they were the only mechanics available because they possessed more expertise than the rest of the deck crew combined. Although that morning only Cally was present on the hangar deck, notably alone amidst the lined up Vipers and scattered Raptors. She had finished her first task of the day and as she walked away from newly tweaked Raptor the cool air seemed to flood around her. On a busy day it could be an exhausting hot place to work, but in those silent, lonely moments the true chill of the air could be felt, even through the tough fabric of a jumpsuit.
Cally wondered when he would be back; The Chief, Tyrol, Galen. He had been gone for just over a day having entered himself on that stupid mission to one of the countless civilian ships. It was a stupid decision and one that made little sense to anyone who knew about what Tyrol was doing. But it made sense to her; she knew exactly why he had signed up for the mission. Galen Tyrol was not the sort of person who faced his problems directly; he preferred to distract himself from them. Going on a mission to a mutinous freighter was exactly the kind of distraction he wanted. Cally knew exactly what he was distracting himself from as well and she feared it was a problem that he couldn't run away from forever. It was a problem that was on their ship, a problem that had been such a part of his life before, a part of his life that she had ended.
She didn't like to dwell on those thoughts though. It made her feel uncomfortable even confused, as she thought of him with her. But the thought of 'her', the thing they had called Sharon, being a Cylon didn't factor in the uncomfortable sensation; it did make it feel worse though. Cally hadn't realised but she was unconsciously clutching a spanner, its long metal shaft pointed outward in an aggressive spiking motion. Staring off into the darkened corners of the hangar deck, she also missed the figure of Jammer as he walked into the hangar.
"You okay Cally?"
"Oh. Yeah, sure. Just a bit tired."
"I guess everything will sort itself out when the Chief gets back"
Jammer looked blank, as if Cally had said something unexpected that he was surprised to hear. His mouth gaped ever so slightly as he tried to form words through his sense of surprise. Cally wasn't paying enough attention to notice his predicament, her attention focused on the clipboard of tasks that he was holding preciously.
"You haven't heard, have you?"
"Heard what?" She was still paying more attention to the varied list of mechanical tasks.
"The Chief, he's been hurt"
She looked up from the clipboard with a startling abruptness, levelling an alarmed stare at the unsuspecting Jammer. He didn't seem to think much of Cally's startled behaviour, choosing instead to poke fun at her for her distanced attitude.
"My gods Cally, do you spend your whole day in here. People will forget about you, we'll find you one day stuck in the middle of Viper engine."
Jammer's sentiments were meant only jokingly but they were partly true. Cally rarely strayed beyond the hangar deck. Although this was certainly not because of a sense of insularity but a love of what she did and who she was with. She still hadn't recovered from what she heard though, the sense of stifling shock lingered as she moved slowly and quietly to her next task with Jammer following. As he followed her across to their next task, he tried to end the silence with casual small talk.
"I guess he'll be ok though" But she remained silently focused "Cally?"
Cally snapped back with an urgent string of positive words. "Yes. Oh yeah I'm sure he will"
She stopped with a sudden, unannounced halt before the Viper that had been scheduled for repair. As she stood before it the countless thoughts and images washed over her unfocused mind. Nothing could clear them, it was a like a flood, drowning her and suffocating. In her mind she tried to see him as she normally knew him but every time she saw the same haunting image of his pale. It was an entirely fabricated image, a worst case scenario that she dared to imagine only in her darkest moments. Once more, Jammer's oblivious chatter brought her back into the real world.
"What are we doing with this one then?"
She turned to face him with a look of nervous resolution.
"Can you deal with this one Jammer. I need to go and…"she wavered as she thought of something to say. "I'll be back soon"
With an insistent smile Cally abandoned Jammer in the silent expanse of the hangar deck, his question unanswered and a lengthy clipboard of tasks in his hand.
There were very few quiet places on Galatica where someone could sit and think but Cally had found one. Huddled in a confined space, just off one of the many random corridors; she began to think about what she had just done. Cally had not behaved as she normally would; it was not in her nature to respond erratically to bad news. She normally went straight to the cause of the problem and dealt with it, but not this time. Something deep within her trembling form was causing her to behave irrationally. Everything seemed to be moving to a terrible crescendo and she could feel the relentless pounding in her chest, like an unavoidable countdown.
She was sudden sprung from her nervous contemplation. "Cally?" the inquisitive voice was very distinctly that of Lee Adama.
She leaned out of her hiding place and he loomed into view, looking down at her with his warm and friendly smile. For someone whose father was an Admiral, Lee was remarkably approachable, a characteristic that was visible in the depths of his engaging blue eyes. Cally had interacted with him numerous times in the theatre of combat, she'd seen him as calm and cool as all around roared with confusion. And here he was staring at her huddled in a nook along the corridor. It was at best an awkward situation but still Lee seemed understanding.
"Just looking for something" Cally racked her brains for an excuse. "Faulty wiring"
Lee interjected over Cally's nervous rambling. "I'm surprised you haven't been to see the chief. He's doing well" With that sweeping statement, Lee continued off along the corridor. Lee had seemed unusually positive throughout their awkward exchange and now he was almost bouncing as he walked. Cally would be the only person that day to notice his behaviour.
Yet another person who knew, another person who had been informed. Cally fumed at herself for not doing more but still she felt the poison of irrationality within her, warning her against doing anything. Lee's unsuspecting news had eased some of the nightmarish images that had clouded her thinking but she still felt unable to visit him. Cally had two options: wander around all day without allaying her own person concerns or visiting the sickbay and risking the anguish of what she might see.
She was not an overly religious person but Cally found herself stood before the closed door of the office of the ship's Chaplain. She hoped that he could at least provide some confidential counselling on her situation. This way no one else needed to know how she felt about for him, certainly none of the deck gang. She watched her trembling hand, following it with her eyes as she reached to knock on the door.