Lieutenant Kara 'Starbuck' Thrace
"Set condition two throughout the ship," the loudspeaker chatters as Kara steps down the ladder. Set condition two, it's saying. She tries to remember regs. A " condition two" is what? An FTL jump? Yeah, an FTL, she's pretty sure. Good. It's been awhile for the old girl, but we gotta get the frak outta here before the Cylons come back. A rumbling vibration in the deck plates confirms Kara's guess. Both landing pods are snuggling up to momma.
All her Vipers are back onboard, or what's left of them. Kara lost five Viper pilots out there, and five friends she'll never see again. Her first command. Frakking Cylons.
Chief Tyrol stalks up and breaks Kara's train of thought. He's bitching about her Mark II's black and shredded tail.
"Lieutenant, what did you do to my Viper?" After all the hours Tyrol spent restoring the old Two's, he is very possessive.
"We wondered why the engine gave out." After sputtering irregularly the last quarter klick before the ship, the engine died over the landing deck's bird insignia. Beneath Kara the emblem had looked angry about the Cylon attack, fanning its twelve Colonial feathers and screaming silent defiance into space.
Fifteen Vipers came back with Kara. Twenty had gone out.
"We're going to have to pull the whole mounting. Get the high lift," Tyrol tells little Callie at his elbow. What's Callie doing on Tyrol's crew? Kara wonders. Callie and Prosna are like a pair of dice, always together. Something's wrong.
"I don't know how you managed to fly this thing much less land it," Tyrol says.
The Chief obviously did not see Kara up on the landing deck. She hadn't been flying the Two. She'd been controlling its crash. It definitely hadn't been a twelve-feather touch down.
"It's not something I want to think about right now. Where's Prosna? He's gotta get that frakking gimbal locked down or I'll have his ass." Prosna's make-do repair in the launch pod had made the Two pull six g's in every turn. Kara's arms ache from wrestling with the stick.
"He's dead, sir. He died in the fire." Beneath Tyrol's heavy brow, his eyes are shiny. He looks at the scorched and shredded Two. It's obvious he does not want to remember. He wants to work. His fingers play with the black repair scheduler in his hands.
Kara has not been thinking clearly. The fire she'd observed from space was in the Chief's port landing pod. Everything and everyone he knew had been in there. She's ashamed. "How many did we lose?" she asks softly.
"Eighty-five." Tyrol's answer is short and choked.
Kara realizes her five Vipers are part of a greater tragedy. "Right," she says. She can't think of anything else to say that won't bring on the tears. She has to get out of here. Turning she stalks off, trying not to explode.
Tyrol calls after her, "Oh lieutenant." Kara turns with a near snarl, but Tyrol's face is a study in pain. "I don't know if you heard about Apollo, but …"
"Heard what?" she growls. Still reeling from the loss of ninety crewmates, Kara does not realize that she can still lose more.
Tyrol cannot speak. He looks down at the repair scheduler he holds and rocks on his heels. He shakes his head. Everyone on the crew knows how close Lieutenant Kara Thrace is to the Adama family. It's no secret.
Kara's heart jerks. Oh no, not Lee. This is too much. Not Lee. "Right," she murmurs through the pain. What else is there to say?
Although desperate to escape, Kara remembers who is foremost in Tyrol's heart. Turning back one last time she asks, "Any word on Sharon?" Her voice vibrates with unshed tears.
Tyrol's eyes are fixed on the old Mark II's shredded tail. "No, sir," he whispers. Sharon, Helo, Captain Spencer and most of the attack squadron are still missing, and if Galactica jumps FTL, they'll have no place to land. The Commander must now know for sure they're all dead.
Kara leaves the maintenance hangar blindly, not sure where she is bound. As always the loudspeaker is announcing something, but she does not listen to the intrusive noise. Feeling the inside-outside pull of FTL as the Galactica makes a jump, she staggers a step or two.
Specialist Cordna from the Combat Information Center, a tall man with dark brown skin and soft kind eyes, stops her in the corridor and tells her the entire fleet is lost and that all the colonies are dead. Cordna says that the Commander jumped them to Ragnarok to replenish their empty magazines. After delivering this agonizing news, Cordna hurries away on some errand. Focusing on the moment gets Cordna by without breaking down. Kara envies him. She has nothing left inside but hurt.
The Galactica is maneuvering. Gravity and attitude shift subtly as Kara walks. All her muscles ache, and it hurts to move. She should report to the Commander and offer him her condolences, but when she sees him, she will cry. If she cries, he might cry too. Fortunately, she reaches the hatch of the women pilots' quarters and turns in there.
The quarters are dark and empty. Everyone is dead but me, Kara thinks. She tries not to think more.
Commander Adama's calming voice comes over the loudspeaker. "All hands, be ready for some chop." The deck vibrates and bucks as the Ragnarok space station locks on. They have arrived.
Opening her locker, Kara has her flight suit off one arm when she sees the precious picture tucked in the mirror. A gift from Commander Adama, it shows Zak holding Kara close. She unfolds it to see the other half that shows Lee standing by himself, his helmet under one arm. Lee has always been by himself in one way or another.
Lee has been a good man and a good friend to Kara. Stubborn, opinionated and strong in his beliefs, but that's how all Adamas are. Zak was a lot like Lee, but without all the fuss and worry. Every time Kara sees Lee she sees Zak again.
Kara had hoped that some time in the future, that she and Lee would be … that they might … She's seen his eyes on her, but there are few arrows straighter than Lee.
Now Lee is as dead as Zak. She will probably be dead soon too.
It has been a long time since Kara has prayed, not since her mother sat down beside her bed and taught Kara the Prayer of Lords. No expert in the praying field, Kara tries to decide on proper words. Something dignified seems best. "Lords of Kobol, hear my prayer. Take the souls of your sons and daughters lost this day …" Kara pauses here because to speak Lee's name out loud among the dead is to admit that he is lost. She goes on with an ache, "… especially that of Lee Adama, into your hands."
Kara bows her head and finishes with a soft, slow, "So say I."