The Dance
By Crystal Wimmmer
Chapter 1
"A dance?"
"Yup."
Kara Thrace looked at her friend in pure disbelief. "The entire world is coming apart, and the commander wants to have a dance?"
"I guess it's pretty traditional," Sharon remarked. "Anyway, it's just for officers and enlisted. No civilians, unless they come as a guest."
Kara just shook her head. "The world is ending," she said flatly.
Sharon grinned. "Not likely. I think he just wants us to have some down- time. We haven't had any major issues lately, and we're essentially between star systems, so there's no possibility of a sneak attack because there's no place for Cylons to hide. I think he's just trying to boost morale while he has the chance."
Kara slid around on her bunk and lay back. A dance? The old man had to be out of his mind.
They had been on the run from the Cylons for almost six months. Their home world was gone, and there wasn't much hope of seeing another one in this lifetime. All of their resources were needed for survival, and now the commander of the fleet was suggesting a dance? It didn't seem possible.
"He's gone out of his mind," she commented darkly. She half believed it.
"No, he's just trying to give us something to look forward to," Sharon said softly. "There hasn't been much good in the last few months, and people are starting to go for each other's throats."
"I know we're a little bored, but what kind of an answer is this?"
"It's something to do that's fun, Kara. Not everything needs to be about survival."
Kara didn't comment, but she did roll her eyes. She and Sharon had disagreed on a lot of things in the last few months, but this was another level entirely. Wasting time, effort, and resources on something as silly as an awards banquet and formal dance was just ridiculous. Granted, they were better off than they had been in a while, but that didn't mean they could let their guard down.
"It's got to be a mistake," she finally muttered.
Sharon shrugged, not inclined to argue. Kara was disappointed, because a good argument might be just what she needed. She was edgy and nervous due to the lack of activity in recent weeks, and the part of her that was a warrior was just waiting for something else to go wrong. The woman in her was hopeful, but she had always been more warrior than woman.
And she didn't have a damn thing to wear.
"So, if it is a dance, are you going with Tyrol?"
Sharon turned to look at her, a scowl on her face. "I don't know," she admitted. "He hasn't asked, but even if he did it's crossing a line."
Kara rolled on her side so that she was facing Sharon with a narrow aisle between then. "It's not like anyone doesn't know," she reminded her friend. "Even most of the deck crew is okay with it now."
"Most of them are friends. It's a little different flaunting a relationship in front of the commander. It's like asking for trouble."
"Maybe. Or maybe it's just asking for permission."
"He hasn't asked," Sharon said again. "So it's a moot point."
Kara rolled her eyes again, a familiar gesture. "So ask him," she suggested.
"Right," Sharon said with a grimace. "That would go over just fine. It's bad enough that I rank above him, but if I start trying to take the lead in our relationship he's likely to put a stop to it altogether."
"You don't believe that. Do you?"
Sharon shrugged, but she didn't answer. Kara didn't push. She teased her friend about dating an enlisted man, but she had the good sense to know when it wasn't a joke any more. Sharon and Tyrol had been having problems, or so it appeared from her sudden return to officer's quarters in recent nights. Kara didn't know what to say to help, so she decided to stay out of it. The bottom line was that the Chief was pretty terrific, and she couldn't blame Sharon for her interest. That soft and squishy part of her - the part she preferred to ignore - was rooting for the two of them.
Sitting up quickly, she announced, "I'm going to the rec-room. You want anything?"
"I'm fine," Sharon told her. "I'll probably take a nap or something. I'm on duty early tomorrow. Just have a good time."
"Right," Kara grinned. "I promise not to hit anyone."
"Wise choice," Sharon told her simply.
It took only a few minutes to walk the length of the Galactica to the Recreation Center. It wasn't the large room it used to be, but rather a couple of smaller ones that had been redecorated to serve the need for soldiers to cut loose a bit outside the constant civilian supervision. The larger room they'd had before the war had been converted into family living quarters. There were times that Kara resented the loss of space, as they all seemed to be living in one another's pockets, but she understood the necessity. Space was still at a premium in the fleet.
Thankfully, many of the civilians had been moved out to other ships. Immediately following the beginning of the war, the Battlestar had been so crowded with people that it was hard to walk. As space on other ships became available, most of those people had been moved off to civilian locations. Commander Adama said it was because the Battlestar was first and foremost a war ship, and no place for civilians. Kara had a feeling it had more to do with security issues.
Whatever the real reason, Kara was grateful for what little space had been returned to them. While the single officers and enlisted personnel still were housed in group conditions, at least the families had been able to join together. There were also a few rooms that had been set aside for occasional single or double occupation. She hadn't taken the time to request one of the rooms for the night, as the waiting list was so long, but she might do it soon. It would feel good to sleep in a room that didn't have twenty other people in it, or take a shower without an audience.
As Kara stepped through the hatch to the officer's recreation center, she had to smile. The space might be smaller, but the feeling of the room was still the same. A young group of cadets were sitting a table drinking coffee, or at least what passed for it on the Galactica. A few of her fellow pilots were gathered around another table playing cards. That was likely where she would wind up. A couple of bridge officers were talking against one wall, and a few others were gathered by the coffee machine. Kara eased through the crowd of bodies with a natural grace. She didn't fit into any of the groups really, but then she never had. She'd make a place when she was ready.
"Hey, Starbuck," Jill said lightly. "What brings you here."
"Bored," Kara stated simply. "Calli's overhauling my Viper this week."
Jill nodded, and gestured to her friends. "Want to join us?"
Kara looked around at the women, most of them rookies that had been new to the Galactica when the war began. It was a group she had absolutely nothing in common with. Still, she could either join them or try to edge into an already full game of Pyramid, and she didn't have the energy at the moment to go start an argument. That, and she wasn't adequately intoxicated to want to take the chance of being taken to the commander.
"Sure," she finally answered. She poured a cup of coffee, grimacing as she remembered the old days, when ambrosia had been the drink of choice. She really missed getting drunk some days, and this was one of them. At the very least, it would relieve the boredom. Cup in hand, she followed the younger group to a corner table and sat down with them.
"This is Brie," Jill said quickly, gesturing to a tall woman with long brown hair. "And Shelly, Dee, and Mitzi." Jill pointed to each of them in turn, but Kara knew she wouldn't remember a single name.
"Nice to meet you," she lied, and took a long drink of bitter coffee.
"We were just talking about the big awards dance," Brie gushed. "I think Devon is going to ask me. I still have this little skirt that I got on Caprica, and I'm dying for a chance to wear it.
"Oh, he'll ask," Dee cut in. But I think I'm going to have to ask Billy. Political cabinet members aren't military, are they?"
"No," Kara interjected. "They're not. "But it raises a question. Is the President going to be there?"
"I don't know," Jill said with a truly confused look. Kara didn't think she'd ever been that young. "She has to give out the awards, doesn't she?"
"The dance is after the ceremony, so that really doesn't mean anything."
"The commander with probably ask her," Dee said with a grin. "I think he likes her."
"Really? Have you heard something?" Brie asked airily.
"She's just around a lot," Dee clarified. "And there's no arguing, if you know what I mean."
"She's the President," Kara remarked dryly. "What's the point in arguing with her?"
"He did at first," Dee offered. "A lot, and loud. And she used to try to give Colonel Tigh orders, but he didn't take them of course."
Kara felt a headache coming on. Gossip was bad enough, but gossip that placed her most respected and least respected leaders in the same conversation was beyond her ability to rationalize.
"It's been fun, girls," she said after emptying her cup. "But I really should go check with Calli on my Viper." She was out of her seat and half way across the room before even Jill could call out a quick good-bye. She knew she'd probably been rude, but was sure that Boomer would be proud of her. She hadn't hit a single person.
Lee Adama set his clipboard down and reached into the Viper to jiggle a switch. The damn thing just wouldn't operate correctly, in test or in flight, and he couldn't figure out where the short was. He supposed he should ask Calli, or the Chief, or any of a dozen other technicians that were wandering about, but he wanted to figure this puzzle out by himself.
He popped the switch out of the console, removed the fuse behind it, and glared at the perfectly operational piece of equipment. It wasn't the fuse, wasn't the wiring, and wasn't the seating. Why in the world wasn't that stupid button working properly.
He was intent enough in his scrutiny that he missed what was going on around him. He didn't hear the woman slip up behind him. He didn't hear her take his clipboard, and he didn't have a clue what was happening when Kara Thrace put a hand on each of his shoulders and lifted herself up to look over one shoulder at him.
"Hey," she said with a huge smile.
"Frak!" He was proud of himself. He didn't fall off the scaffolding, and he didn't drop anything. He thought about throwing her down, but decided against it. She was too good a pilot to break her arm. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked as he tried to catch his breath.
"Alleviating boredom," she answered simply, dropping back to her own feet and looking around his arm. "What are you doing?"
"Trying to troubleshoot these electronics," he admitted. "I've got a sensor that's locking up on me, and I have no clue why."
"Diagnostic?" she asked, immediately intent as she snagged the clipboard from the Viper wing where he had laid it.
"Negative," he admitted. "According to the computer, everything's working fine. But it's not lighting up."
"Heat system," she muttered. "Anything fried?"
"Wiring's intact," he told her. "Seating, circuit. it all checks out."
"Weird," she mumbled as she leaned over the seating past him and began wiggling buttons around the one that didn't work. "How about the rest of the panel?"
"Fine," Lee told her, taking the clipboard she passed back to him. She had leaned forward until she was hanging into the Viper, her feet six inches off the ground and her bottom wiggling around in the air as she tried to reach the electronic panel without actually getting into the Viper. "It might be easier from the inside," he finally told her.
"Nope," she grunted, leaning forward some more. "I've got it."
"Got what?"
"Prob." Her word was cut off mid way as she lost her balance and began to slide head-first into the cockpit. Lee did the only thing he could, and grabbed her by one boot before she landed on her head. As always, he was amazed at how light she was as he tugged her out.
"You're going to hurt yourself," he complained.
"Not with you around," she said with a grin. "Try it now."
He leaned over himself, his height and length of arm making it effortless to reach the switch that had given her so much trouble. He pressed the button and saw the light flash bright green, as it should. He pressed it again, it went out, and he pressed a sequence of other buttons. The original light flashed green again, blinking in regular time. He turned it off, tapped in another sequence, and watched as the button began to flash red.
"How the hell do you do that?" he grumbled.
"Everyone has to have a skill," she told him with a genuine smile.
"Yeah, and we know what yours is," he reminded her with a smirk.
She shrugged the insult off. "The old man had me work with Tyrol for about six months after I got assigned here," she told him. "I took these panels apart and put them back together until I could do it in my sleep. It wasn't that button that was out," she explained. "It was the one two over. They share a fuse, but because you never need that one.."
"I didn't realize it was out," he reasoned. "Great."
"It's that way in a lot of panels," she continued, leaning back against the Viper. "If something's not working, you have to look around the problem rather than at it. I didn't invent the wiring. Whoever did was a little warped. Either that, or they wanted to ensure that engineering was never bored."
Lee reached past her for the clipboard, bopping her on the head with it once he'd retrieved it. "If you're bored, I'm sure Tyrol could use you down here."
She shrugged again, but didn't reply to his suggestion. "So, what's next?"
"Next," he announced. "Is a shower and some sleep. I just got in off patrol."
"That must have been exciting," she said with sarcasm clear in her voice.
"Uneventful is good," he told her firmly. "We've checked out as far as sensors will go, and even jumped a few Raptors, and there's no sign of anything for as far as we can sense. Until we get into the next star system, things should stay pretty quiet."
"How long until that?"
"Two weeks, give or take. We still have to be on guard, because the Cylons can jump as easily as we can, but unless they land in the middle of the fleet we should be able to defend pretty easily. We're back up to three fighter squadrons, armament is at full, and we have more pilots than we can keep busy."
"Tell me about it," she muttered. "So, going to sleep, huh?"
He looked at her sideways, wondering what her point was. "Is that a problem?"
"No, but I was wondering if I could ask you about something."
"What's that?"
"Have you heard anything about this awards dinner and dance thing?"
Lee just stood there for a moment, taking a deep breath. "I've heard. My father wants to keep things as normal as possible for the personnel, and the award ceremony is tradition. He figures many of our pilots have it coming, and most of the deck crew as well. We've worked some miracles since the war began, and he wants to recognize that."
"I'm not a reporter," she said simply as she followed him down the scaffolding ladder to the fight deck. "I don't need a press release."
Lee scribbled a few lines on the clipboard and handed it to a deck hand before continuing on his way out of the hanger. Kara looked around her, then followed him quickly. "Are you going to give me a straight answer?"
He stopped at looked at her for a moment, then shrugged. "I'm sure you know what I know."
"Except how you feel about it," she remarked, although he thought she might be getting an idea.
"You know my father and I don't agree on everything," he admitted. "This is just one more thing. I understand his reasons, and I admire them, but I think letting our guard down is asking for trouble."
Kara grinned at him. "Thank the Lords," she muttered. "I thought all the Adamas had gone nuts."
He shook his head. "I take it you're opposed as well?"
"I think it's ridiculous," she said as she matched his stride walking down the passageway towards their quarters. "All the bridge crew is acting like it's the best idea since packaged food, and I just don't get it."
"Most of them are kids," he told her. "They still think this is one big adventure. The commander hasn't helped much, either. He's so busy trying to give them a 'normal' environment that I think he has them fooling themselves. We're at war, whether we're actively engaged or not, and I think we need to remember that."
"And you've told him that?"
"I've told him, Colonel Tigh's told him, and I think half the deck crew has talked to him at one point or another. President Roslyn suggested it, and he's going through with it, and it appears that's the end of the discussion."
They came to the door of their quarters, and Lee stopped just outside the hatch. "You could talk to him," he suggested. "He's listened to you before."
She shook her head. "If he won't listen to his XO or his son, then I don't know what you think I can say."
Lee shrugged one shoulder, opened the hatch, and walked into the room leaving her standing in the passageway.
Chapter 1
"A dance?"
"Yup."
Kara Thrace looked at her friend in pure disbelief. "The entire world is coming apart, and the commander wants to have a dance?"
"I guess it's pretty traditional," Sharon remarked. "Anyway, it's just for officers and enlisted. No civilians, unless they come as a guest."
Kara just shook her head. "The world is ending," she said flatly.
Sharon grinned. "Not likely. I think he just wants us to have some down- time. We haven't had any major issues lately, and we're essentially between star systems, so there's no possibility of a sneak attack because there's no place for Cylons to hide. I think he's just trying to boost morale while he has the chance."
Kara slid around on her bunk and lay back. A dance? The old man had to be out of his mind.
They had been on the run from the Cylons for almost six months. Their home world was gone, and there wasn't much hope of seeing another one in this lifetime. All of their resources were needed for survival, and now the commander of the fleet was suggesting a dance? It didn't seem possible.
"He's gone out of his mind," she commented darkly. She half believed it.
"No, he's just trying to give us something to look forward to," Sharon said softly. "There hasn't been much good in the last few months, and people are starting to go for each other's throats."
"I know we're a little bored, but what kind of an answer is this?"
"It's something to do that's fun, Kara. Not everything needs to be about survival."
Kara didn't comment, but she did roll her eyes. She and Sharon had disagreed on a lot of things in the last few months, but this was another level entirely. Wasting time, effort, and resources on something as silly as an awards banquet and formal dance was just ridiculous. Granted, they were better off than they had been in a while, but that didn't mean they could let their guard down.
"It's got to be a mistake," she finally muttered.
Sharon shrugged, not inclined to argue. Kara was disappointed, because a good argument might be just what she needed. She was edgy and nervous due to the lack of activity in recent weeks, and the part of her that was a warrior was just waiting for something else to go wrong. The woman in her was hopeful, but she had always been more warrior than woman.
And she didn't have a damn thing to wear.
"So, if it is a dance, are you going with Tyrol?"
Sharon turned to look at her, a scowl on her face. "I don't know," she admitted. "He hasn't asked, but even if he did it's crossing a line."
Kara rolled on her side so that she was facing Sharon with a narrow aisle between then. "It's not like anyone doesn't know," she reminded her friend. "Even most of the deck crew is okay with it now."
"Most of them are friends. It's a little different flaunting a relationship in front of the commander. It's like asking for trouble."
"Maybe. Or maybe it's just asking for permission."
"He hasn't asked," Sharon said again. "So it's a moot point."
Kara rolled her eyes again, a familiar gesture. "So ask him," she suggested.
"Right," Sharon said with a grimace. "That would go over just fine. It's bad enough that I rank above him, but if I start trying to take the lead in our relationship he's likely to put a stop to it altogether."
"You don't believe that. Do you?"
Sharon shrugged, but she didn't answer. Kara didn't push. She teased her friend about dating an enlisted man, but she had the good sense to know when it wasn't a joke any more. Sharon and Tyrol had been having problems, or so it appeared from her sudden return to officer's quarters in recent nights. Kara didn't know what to say to help, so she decided to stay out of it. The bottom line was that the Chief was pretty terrific, and she couldn't blame Sharon for her interest. That soft and squishy part of her - the part she preferred to ignore - was rooting for the two of them.
Sitting up quickly, she announced, "I'm going to the rec-room. You want anything?"
"I'm fine," Sharon told her. "I'll probably take a nap or something. I'm on duty early tomorrow. Just have a good time."
"Right," Kara grinned. "I promise not to hit anyone."
"Wise choice," Sharon told her simply.
It took only a few minutes to walk the length of the Galactica to the Recreation Center. It wasn't the large room it used to be, but rather a couple of smaller ones that had been redecorated to serve the need for soldiers to cut loose a bit outside the constant civilian supervision. The larger room they'd had before the war had been converted into family living quarters. There were times that Kara resented the loss of space, as they all seemed to be living in one another's pockets, but she understood the necessity. Space was still at a premium in the fleet.
Thankfully, many of the civilians had been moved out to other ships. Immediately following the beginning of the war, the Battlestar had been so crowded with people that it was hard to walk. As space on other ships became available, most of those people had been moved off to civilian locations. Commander Adama said it was because the Battlestar was first and foremost a war ship, and no place for civilians. Kara had a feeling it had more to do with security issues.
Whatever the real reason, Kara was grateful for what little space had been returned to them. While the single officers and enlisted personnel still were housed in group conditions, at least the families had been able to join together. There were also a few rooms that had been set aside for occasional single or double occupation. She hadn't taken the time to request one of the rooms for the night, as the waiting list was so long, but she might do it soon. It would feel good to sleep in a room that didn't have twenty other people in it, or take a shower without an audience.
As Kara stepped through the hatch to the officer's recreation center, she had to smile. The space might be smaller, but the feeling of the room was still the same. A young group of cadets were sitting a table drinking coffee, or at least what passed for it on the Galactica. A few of her fellow pilots were gathered around another table playing cards. That was likely where she would wind up. A couple of bridge officers were talking against one wall, and a few others were gathered by the coffee machine. Kara eased through the crowd of bodies with a natural grace. She didn't fit into any of the groups really, but then she never had. She'd make a place when she was ready.
"Hey, Starbuck," Jill said lightly. "What brings you here."
"Bored," Kara stated simply. "Calli's overhauling my Viper this week."
Jill nodded, and gestured to her friends. "Want to join us?"
Kara looked around at the women, most of them rookies that had been new to the Galactica when the war began. It was a group she had absolutely nothing in common with. Still, she could either join them or try to edge into an already full game of Pyramid, and she didn't have the energy at the moment to go start an argument. That, and she wasn't adequately intoxicated to want to take the chance of being taken to the commander.
"Sure," she finally answered. She poured a cup of coffee, grimacing as she remembered the old days, when ambrosia had been the drink of choice. She really missed getting drunk some days, and this was one of them. At the very least, it would relieve the boredom. Cup in hand, she followed the younger group to a corner table and sat down with them.
"This is Brie," Jill said quickly, gesturing to a tall woman with long brown hair. "And Shelly, Dee, and Mitzi." Jill pointed to each of them in turn, but Kara knew she wouldn't remember a single name.
"Nice to meet you," she lied, and took a long drink of bitter coffee.
"We were just talking about the big awards dance," Brie gushed. "I think Devon is going to ask me. I still have this little skirt that I got on Caprica, and I'm dying for a chance to wear it.
"Oh, he'll ask," Dee cut in. But I think I'm going to have to ask Billy. Political cabinet members aren't military, are they?"
"No," Kara interjected. "They're not. "But it raises a question. Is the President going to be there?"
"I don't know," Jill said with a truly confused look. Kara didn't think she'd ever been that young. "She has to give out the awards, doesn't she?"
"The dance is after the ceremony, so that really doesn't mean anything."
"The commander with probably ask her," Dee said with a grin. "I think he likes her."
"Really? Have you heard something?" Brie asked airily.
"She's just around a lot," Dee clarified. "And there's no arguing, if you know what I mean."
"She's the President," Kara remarked dryly. "What's the point in arguing with her?"
"He did at first," Dee offered. "A lot, and loud. And she used to try to give Colonel Tigh orders, but he didn't take them of course."
Kara felt a headache coming on. Gossip was bad enough, but gossip that placed her most respected and least respected leaders in the same conversation was beyond her ability to rationalize.
"It's been fun, girls," she said after emptying her cup. "But I really should go check with Calli on my Viper." She was out of her seat and half way across the room before even Jill could call out a quick good-bye. She knew she'd probably been rude, but was sure that Boomer would be proud of her. She hadn't hit a single person.
Lee Adama set his clipboard down and reached into the Viper to jiggle a switch. The damn thing just wouldn't operate correctly, in test or in flight, and he couldn't figure out where the short was. He supposed he should ask Calli, or the Chief, or any of a dozen other technicians that were wandering about, but he wanted to figure this puzzle out by himself.
He popped the switch out of the console, removed the fuse behind it, and glared at the perfectly operational piece of equipment. It wasn't the fuse, wasn't the wiring, and wasn't the seating. Why in the world wasn't that stupid button working properly.
He was intent enough in his scrutiny that he missed what was going on around him. He didn't hear the woman slip up behind him. He didn't hear her take his clipboard, and he didn't have a clue what was happening when Kara Thrace put a hand on each of his shoulders and lifted herself up to look over one shoulder at him.
"Hey," she said with a huge smile.
"Frak!" He was proud of himself. He didn't fall off the scaffolding, and he didn't drop anything. He thought about throwing her down, but decided against it. She was too good a pilot to break her arm. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked as he tried to catch his breath.
"Alleviating boredom," she answered simply, dropping back to her own feet and looking around his arm. "What are you doing?"
"Trying to troubleshoot these electronics," he admitted. "I've got a sensor that's locking up on me, and I have no clue why."
"Diagnostic?" she asked, immediately intent as she snagged the clipboard from the Viper wing where he had laid it.
"Negative," he admitted. "According to the computer, everything's working fine. But it's not lighting up."
"Heat system," she muttered. "Anything fried?"
"Wiring's intact," he told her. "Seating, circuit. it all checks out."
"Weird," she mumbled as she leaned over the seating past him and began wiggling buttons around the one that didn't work. "How about the rest of the panel?"
"Fine," Lee told her, taking the clipboard she passed back to him. She had leaned forward until she was hanging into the Viper, her feet six inches off the ground and her bottom wiggling around in the air as she tried to reach the electronic panel without actually getting into the Viper. "It might be easier from the inside," he finally told her.
"Nope," she grunted, leaning forward some more. "I've got it."
"Got what?"
"Prob." Her word was cut off mid way as she lost her balance and began to slide head-first into the cockpit. Lee did the only thing he could, and grabbed her by one boot before she landed on her head. As always, he was amazed at how light she was as he tugged her out.
"You're going to hurt yourself," he complained.
"Not with you around," she said with a grin. "Try it now."
He leaned over himself, his height and length of arm making it effortless to reach the switch that had given her so much trouble. He pressed the button and saw the light flash bright green, as it should. He pressed it again, it went out, and he pressed a sequence of other buttons. The original light flashed green again, blinking in regular time. He turned it off, tapped in another sequence, and watched as the button began to flash red.
"How the hell do you do that?" he grumbled.
"Everyone has to have a skill," she told him with a genuine smile.
"Yeah, and we know what yours is," he reminded her with a smirk.
She shrugged the insult off. "The old man had me work with Tyrol for about six months after I got assigned here," she told him. "I took these panels apart and put them back together until I could do it in my sleep. It wasn't that button that was out," she explained. "It was the one two over. They share a fuse, but because you never need that one.."
"I didn't realize it was out," he reasoned. "Great."
"It's that way in a lot of panels," she continued, leaning back against the Viper. "If something's not working, you have to look around the problem rather than at it. I didn't invent the wiring. Whoever did was a little warped. Either that, or they wanted to ensure that engineering was never bored."
Lee reached past her for the clipboard, bopping her on the head with it once he'd retrieved it. "If you're bored, I'm sure Tyrol could use you down here."
She shrugged again, but didn't reply to his suggestion. "So, what's next?"
"Next," he announced. "Is a shower and some sleep. I just got in off patrol."
"That must have been exciting," she said with sarcasm clear in her voice.
"Uneventful is good," he told her firmly. "We've checked out as far as sensors will go, and even jumped a few Raptors, and there's no sign of anything for as far as we can sense. Until we get into the next star system, things should stay pretty quiet."
"How long until that?"
"Two weeks, give or take. We still have to be on guard, because the Cylons can jump as easily as we can, but unless they land in the middle of the fleet we should be able to defend pretty easily. We're back up to three fighter squadrons, armament is at full, and we have more pilots than we can keep busy."
"Tell me about it," she muttered. "So, going to sleep, huh?"
He looked at her sideways, wondering what her point was. "Is that a problem?"
"No, but I was wondering if I could ask you about something."
"What's that?"
"Have you heard anything about this awards dinner and dance thing?"
Lee just stood there for a moment, taking a deep breath. "I've heard. My father wants to keep things as normal as possible for the personnel, and the award ceremony is tradition. He figures many of our pilots have it coming, and most of the deck crew as well. We've worked some miracles since the war began, and he wants to recognize that."
"I'm not a reporter," she said simply as she followed him down the scaffolding ladder to the fight deck. "I don't need a press release."
Lee scribbled a few lines on the clipboard and handed it to a deck hand before continuing on his way out of the hanger. Kara looked around her, then followed him quickly. "Are you going to give me a straight answer?"
He stopped at looked at her for a moment, then shrugged. "I'm sure you know what I know."
"Except how you feel about it," she remarked, although he thought she might be getting an idea.
"You know my father and I don't agree on everything," he admitted. "This is just one more thing. I understand his reasons, and I admire them, but I think letting our guard down is asking for trouble."
Kara grinned at him. "Thank the Lords," she muttered. "I thought all the Adamas had gone nuts."
He shook his head. "I take it you're opposed as well?"
"I think it's ridiculous," she said as she matched his stride walking down the passageway towards their quarters. "All the bridge crew is acting like it's the best idea since packaged food, and I just don't get it."
"Most of them are kids," he told her. "They still think this is one big adventure. The commander hasn't helped much, either. He's so busy trying to give them a 'normal' environment that I think he has them fooling themselves. We're at war, whether we're actively engaged or not, and I think we need to remember that."
"And you've told him that?"
"I've told him, Colonel Tigh's told him, and I think half the deck crew has talked to him at one point or another. President Roslyn suggested it, and he's going through with it, and it appears that's the end of the discussion."
They came to the door of their quarters, and Lee stopped just outside the hatch. "You could talk to him," he suggested. "He's listened to you before."
She shook her head. "If he won't listen to his XO or his son, then I don't know what you think I can say."
Lee shrugged one shoulder, opened the hatch, and walked into the room leaving her standing in the passageway.