This is from prompt 159 from Table A, level Omega at LJ comm "challengethe". Check it out!
Brave

Louanne Katraine, lieutenant, junior grade.

She stared at the insignia on her palm, not really believing that they were there. Had she done it? Had she really pulled it off?

The little lieutenant pins didn't go away. Not even if she blinked. So it must be true. She was no longer a nugget, was finally a pilot, well and truly. She was an officer in the Fleet.

Louanne Katraine, lieutenant, junior grade.

A grin spread slowly across her face, and lifted her gaze to meet the CAG's. Apollo smiled back at her, saluting formally.

"Congratulations, Lieutenant. Dismissed."

She schooled her features and returned the salute. "Thank you, sir."


"Galactica; Kat. Commencing long-range CAP, 1400 hours. See you in 5."

"Acknowledged, Kat. Good hunting."

Kat took a shuddering breath and pressed her throttle forward and sped away from the Fleet. She would be just fine. She was a lieutenant now. Fully qualified. Competent. She wasn't going to die on a routine CAP. Even if she would be out of range of Galactica, with only one other pilot, in a non-FTL-capable ship, with cylons out for blood---

No. She would be just fine.

An hour of stewing later, her wingman decided he felt chatty.

"How you doing, Kat?"

Kat was pissed off as soon as the crackled words came through her comm. She wasn't a nugget anymore! Just because he'd been flying for who knew how long and she'd been in a Viper less than a month didn't mean he could treat her like an amateur.

"I'm fine, Puppet. How are you?" she bit back sarcastically.

"Hey, I'm just asking. Don't mind me." She wanted to punch that easy-going tone right out of him. "Did you catch the fight between the CAG and Starbuck yesterday? It was a doozy. I thought he was gonna strangle her."

Ahh, the favourite topic of every pilot. Starbuck and Apollo and their strange relationship. "Don't you have anything better to talk about than someone else's life?"

"A bit tense, are we, Kat? Don't worry, you'll be fine."

Tense? She wasn't tense. Wanting to tear a fellow pilot's skin off because he was trying to be friendly didn't make her tense, it made her… focused. On the mission. The mission where she might die, alone in space, without backup.

Frak.

"Just shut up, Puppet!"

"Fine, fine, we won't talk about the CAG and the lead pilot's torrid love-affair, and how she was engaged to the CAG's brother, and how the reg's forbid it, and how tormented Apollo is over the wrongness of it all, and how the Commander is oblivious, and--- Frak, incoming. Multiple contacts, bearing 146, carom 089. Weapons free. Prepare to engage. Stay on me, Kat." Puppet's tone was instantly professional, all hints of laziness evaporated.

Kat could feel her heart beating right out of her chest. Her throat was dry, and she couldn't speak.

She could see the raiders, all six of them, closing fast. Six against two, even against expert pilots, were slim odds.

"Kat! Come in!"

But she was qualified, right? She was a lieutenant. Her hand flexed around her stick, thumb shook against her trigger button.

"Kat! Frakking answer me! That's an order!"

Could he even give her orders? He was a lieutenant, too. Maybe he was senior grade. She couldn't remember. Her jaw was shaking so badly she thought it would come off. Why wasn't she answering?

"Frak! Engaging raiders."

Puppet wove in and out of the cylon ships, guns firing and swearing the whole time. She couldn't see how he wasn't dead yet. All six raiders were on him. It was only a matter of time.

And all she did was drift, and wait.

One cylon went.

And another, and another.

Until there was only one left. Puppet was good, she had to admit. Five raiders were gone. But there was still one left, and maybe that was all it took.

"Kat! Get your ass into this fight!"

His viper rolled and pitched, but didn't engage the raider.

"Kat, for frak's sake, I'm bingo ammo!"

Bingo ammo? What did that even mean? She couldn't remember. She should, right? She was an officer, they were supposed to know what those sorts of things meant.

"KAT! Help m---"

Viper explosions were always spectacular. The oxygen and fuel they carried meant that for a few brief seconds, even in the vacuum of space fire had something to burn. The metal flew everywhere, momentum unhindered by friction. And then there was the pilot's body, which even if not destroyed by the crash, if they didn't eject, was depressurised in moments, and that made a mess, too.

This explosion was no different. Puppet was there one second, and not the next. The raider's bullets ripped his viper to shreds, and the oxygen went up in flames.

That was also the precise instant that Kat's body decided to start working again, and the cylon was destroyed before she even realised that Puppet was dead, and it was entirely her fault.


"I'd like to resign my commission, sir," Kat told the CAG bluntly as she stood at attention in his office. She had always been an upfront person, and that wasn't about to change.

Captain Adama blinked and leaned back in his chair with a puzzled expression. "I'm sorry; what? I thought this was a debriefing."

Kat drew a deep breath. "What happened to Puppet was my fault, sir. I froze, and he died. That's not what the Fleet needs its officers to do."

He lifted an eyebrow. "No, what the Fleet needs is people to fly vipers, and that's not a lot of people at the moment. One of whom is you."

"But sir, I'm not right for this---"

"Ahh, see, there's your mistake. You don't decide. I do, and Starbuck does. Remember, she's God."

His attempt at lightening her mood fell flat. Didn't he get it? "But I killed him!"

Lee sighed and met her gaze earnestly. "Did you shoot him?"

"What? No!"

"Then you didn't kill him."

"But… I didn't engage, sir. I froze. He begged me for help, but I just… couldn't!"

"So you'll deprive the Fleet of two pilots instead of one, when you're perfectly able to fly? Is that the action of an officer of the Colonial Fleet?"

"That's my point. I'm not officer material."

Lee grinned and cocked his head. "Have you met Starbuck?"

Kat smiled a little despite herself. But there was still the whole matter of her killing a fellow pilot. "Sir, she's never let another pilot die when she could do something about it."

Finally Lee seemed to take her seriously. "Look, Kat, I'm not going to pretend that it's all okay. It's not. Puppet is dead, and you are partially responsible. That'll get you a right-up in your file, and extra maintenance duty. Plus there's the guilt you're obviously feeling, which is worse than anything I could do. But I have to look at the big picture." He sighed, running his hands through his hair and leaning forward to rest his elbows on the desk, and fixed her with his gaze. "We have less than forty pilots, and even fewer Vipers. That many against the entire cylon fleet, with an infinite number of raiders and base-stars. So because one of my pilots feels guilty we should worsen those odds even more?"

Kat looked down at her feet, feeling all of twelve. "No, sir."

"Good. Dismissed."

Kat saluted half-heartedly and trudged to the door.

"And Kat?"

She just looked at him.

"Don't ever do that again," he said, in that harsh voice she hated hearing him use. But she swallowed, gathered her courage and nodded.

"Yes, sir," she said, and left the office with her head high and back straight.

She was an officer of the Fleet, one of the last pilots standing between the human race and obliteration, and she would be brave.