Hail And Farewell
"Action stations! Action stations! Set condition 1 throughout the ship."
Lee didn't need to even think about his reaction to that announcement any more. He'd been through this too many times and the response was purely instinctual by now. Even before Colonel Tigh's voice had stopped echoing through the passageways on Galactica, Lee had already pushed aside the stack of fitness reports he'd been working on and was jumping to his feet. Moments later he was racing toward the hanger bay. He cleared the final pressure door and sprinted along the catwalk toward the ladder leading down to the hanger deck. Crewman Specialist Seelix was already in the process of directing his Viper into position in preparation for launch. Lee slid down the ladder and his feet had barely touched the deck before he was racing forward again.
"Fueled and ready Commander," Seelix called out to him as he vaulted into the Viper's cockpit.
"Thanks Seelix," Lee acknowledged her, fumbling to get his helmet on and secured. With his helmet in place, Lee did a check of his comm channel. The wireless earpiece crackled for a second, then Lee was listening in to the chatter in the CIC. He simultaneously waved the deck crew to move him into the launch tube while directing his attention to his onboard DRADIS.
"Combat… Apollo," he said calmly. "I'm reading large numbers of inbound Raiders. Do we have a count from the CAP?"
"Apollo… Combat. Racetrack reports 62 Raiders, approaching 5000 meters, CBDR."
Lee winced. Back when they had 2 battlestars and 2 air wings to defend the fleet, the situation would not have looked so grim. But now only Galactica remained and only a fraction of their former squadron of vipers (and pilots too for that matter) were currently flight-worthy. His Vipers would be facing 2-to-1 odds today. They had faced worse odds than that before, but the chances of returning from this engagement unscathed weren't good.
The interior launch tube doors closed behind him. Lee gave the thumbs up to the LSO and waited anxiously for clearance. The catapult locked on and the exterior tube door swung open. Seconds later, Lee felt the familiar pressure of high g-forces pushing him back into his seat as the Viper rocketed down the launch tube. He cleared the tube and soared into open space. In the periphery of his vision Lee saw other Vipers also clearing the tubes and moving into formation on both his left and right. A quick check of his DRADIS confirmed for Lee that his entire squadron was launched.
"Racetrack… Apollo," Lee said, solidly settled into CAG-mode now. "Return to Galactica. Vipers are launched. We'll take it from here."
"Copy that Apollo," he heard Racetrack reply. On his DRADIS, the blip representing Racetrack's Raptor began closing range with Galactica.
"Starbuck, Kat," he called to the two pilots who had been flying the CAP with Racetrack. "Close to the recovery zone and join formation."
"On our way Apollo" Starbuck said. "I wasn't looking forward to attending this party by myself anyway."
"So I'm invisible now, am I?" Kat piped up in response.
"One can only hope," Starbuck countered.
"All right, cut the chatter," Lee instructed his pilots, though he couldn't help smiling. Some things never changed. Starbuck and Kat were his two best pilots, and in many ways they were very much alike. They were both brash and a little cocksure, daring and inventive in the cockpit, crack shots with a sidearm… and neither of them could resist butting heads with the other. Their constant bickering could be tiring at times, but it was downright entertaining to watch at others. At the moment though, they had a job to do. "Save the bitch session for later," he instructed them.
To the entire squadron, Lee said, "You all know the drill. Broken formation and hold your fire until the Cylons have closed within range. At engagement, don't stray beyond the recovery zone, and when you hear the recall, get your plane on deck ASAP."
Next came the part that Lee hated the most. Waiting. Lee was generally a very patient man by nature, but that brief period of idle anticipation right before combat was always aggravating. "I shouldn't hate this," Lee thought. "This should be the part that I hope drags out as long as possible, 'cause when it ends is when the bullets start flying."
Two Vipers approached from in front of the squadron. They both executed picture perfect flips to change flight direction and they slipped neatly into the formation. One of them pulled up and settled into place off of Lee's right wing. Lee glanced over and saw Starbuck in her cockpit looking back at him.
"It was nice of you to bring all the kids out to play Apollo," she said. "They needed the exercise." He could see that she was grinning and the sarcasm in her voice was unmistakable.
Lee frowned. Was Kara ever going to stop needling him about the fact that he gained a little extra weight for a while back when the fleet was in idle orbit over New Caprica? He'd lost every ounce since then and currently had a smaller body fat percentage than ever before. "I just didn't want you feeling lonely out here," he said. "And by the way, I'll be making out schedules for latrine duty when I get back, so don't wear out your scrubbing arm."
"Yes sir, Commander," Starbuck replied officiously, saluting Lee from her Viper. She did it quickly, so Lee didn't get a very good look, but he thought that one of her fingers was a little further extended than the others during her "salute".
Lee wanted to get angry with her for her flippant attitude on the job, but at the moment he couldn't. He knew she was just being her typical smartass self to disguise any pre-combat jitters. She didn't actually intend any disrespect, but her tendency toward insubordination was apparently still going to be an ongoing problem. They had faced some difficult rough spots in their relationship lately, but in spite of everything that had happened, Lee had missed flying and bantering with Kara, so in that regard it was starting to feel like old times again, and that was comforting.
The DRADIS screen caught Lee's eye. One by one the civilian ships in the fleet were commencing their emergency FTL jumps and dropping off the display. He checked the range to the incoming force of Raiders. He willed the remaining civvies to hurry up with their jumps, but it became immediately apparent that the Raiders would close the range before the fleet had completed its escape. The Vipers would have to engage.
Lee looked out through his cockpit canopy. The Cylons were now in visual range. "All Vipers, weapons free," Lee announced. He shifted slightly in his seat, settling himself in for combat. The waiting was just about over.
A couple of the Raiders began firing at long range. Their chances of hitting anything from that distance were slight, but they didn't appear to mind wasting bullets. A couple more joined in. Most of the bullets flew well off target, but a few whizzed past fairly close by. Lee bit back the urge to order his pilots to open fire. It was better to wait until they were within reliable firing range, but patience wasn't easy when somebody was shooting at you. Just a little bit closer…
Lee was actually drawing in his breath to order his pilots to engage when a flash ignited to his right. Lee reflexively glanced over, just in time to see Kara's Viper erupt into a ball of flame and debris. There was no sound. Kara didn't even have time to scream. Lee felt completely immobilized in shock for a few seconds, but then the sudden flood of incoming enemy fire jerked him back to reality.
"Engage!" he shouted in a tight voice and the combat was fully joined.
Lee slammed his thumb down over the firing button when a Raider crossed into his path. The Raider exploded seconds later. Lee usually felt a sense of elation whenever he made a kill, but this time he felt nothing at all. He was numb. Another Raider flew near and Lee gave chase. Shortly after, he destroyed his quarry. Then he repeated the exercise with another target. That was precisely how it felt; like an exercise, as though none of it was real. Select target. Maneuver. Fire. Select another target. Maneuver. Fire. He reacted mechanically, as if purely by rote, accomplishing each necessary task in turn without really thinking about any of it.
A voice from the CIC announced into Lee's ear, "All Vipers return to Galactica. Come on home."
"Combat landings," Lee announced tonelessly to his squadron, pulling on his own joystick to head toward Galactica. The battlestar sat isolated in space; the rest of the fleet had already escaped to the emergency jump coordinates. It was now a race between the retreating Vipers and the Raiders that were trying to blow them to hell before they reached safety. Lee felt a shudder in his joystick and his brain dimly registered that his Viper had just been hit by enemy fire. He had lost a maneuvering jet. It would make the landing more difficult, but Lee instinctively made the necessary adjustments. He knew what he had to do, so he just did it. His Viper skimmed over the threshold of the landing deck and made a jarring contact that bounced him against his harness straps before he came to a stop and the mag-lock kicked in to secure his skids to the deck.
Lee sat staring blankly ahead. Other Vipers were still coming in around him. Then he felt the deck beneath his plane vibrate and the stars visible outside began sliding sideways. The star field was soon obscured by the Galactica's hull when the flight pod reached its FTL secure position. Then Lee felt the odd stretching sensation that told him Galactica was making its jump. A moment later the world returned to normal. Lee still sat staring forward. His mind was blank, save for two simple words.
"Kara's dead."
The very next thing that Lee became aware of was a junior crewman reaching over to unlatch his helmet. When the hell had he come down the elevator and been towed into the hanger bay? The crewman seemed to notice Lee's disorientation and asked him, "Are you all right Commander?"
Lee blinked. "I'm fine," he replied automatically. He pulled his helmet off and looked around to get his bearings. It was a familiar scene. Dozens of Vipers were being towed into place with deckhands swarming around performing repair checks. Pilots were climbing out of their birds and conferring with the "knuckle draggers" over their undercarriages, which frequently sustained damage during combat landings. It was all so utterly routine. Lee just sat looking around for several seconds, feeling strangely detached from the commonplace scene that he was witnessing.
Then his sense of duty kicked into auto-pilot and he heaved himself to his feet. Descending the ladder from his cockpit, he met up with Seelix again. She was frowning as she looked at his Viper. "Close call, huh Commander?" Seelix said. "I'm amazed you brought this bird down in one piece."
It took a few seconds before Lee's brain processed what she'd said. He only vaguely remembered the sudden sluggishness of his controls after he'd been hit by enemy fire. Lee shrugged. "Just a minor hit," he said. "Mostly trouble with the aft starboard maneuvering jet."
Seelix had an odd expression on her face as she looked from Lee to his Viper and back again. Lee finally turned around and looked at his ship to see what the source was of Seelix's confusion. Half the starboard side casing was ripped open. Several pieces of the outer panel hung in jagged shreds and the hydraulics underneath were leaking onto the deck. The faulty maneuvering jet wasn't just damaged; it was gone. The fact that the remainder of the body had held together through the stress of a combat landing was indeed surprising.
"Huh," Lee said numbly. "I should either be scared out of my wits or ecstatic to be still be alive right now… shouldn't I?" Lee thought. Instead, he felt only simple regret over the fact that Seelix had a major repair job to contend with. "Sorry about the mess," he told her.
"That's all right sir," she said with a deprecating smile. "That's what I'm here for." She scrutinized him more closely for a moment. "You okay sir?"
"Fine," he replied. "Time to add up the butcher's bill." Lee stepped away from his wrecked Viper to take a head count. Everyone else was diligently going about their duties. Lee knew he had to do the same. He was still the CAG and he still had many other pilots to look after. As he started accounting for the rest of his squadron Lee felt like kicking himself. He'd been so thrown out of whack over losing Starbuck that he had absolutely no idea how the rest of his pilots had fared. How many others had died?
"Whoa, Gods damn!" Lee heard Jammer exclaim behind him. The junior crewman had just arrived to give Seelix a hand and had just gotten a look at Lee's Viper. "Apollo's one lucky son of a bitch. No wonder he looks rattled."
"I don't think it's the Viper," Seelix told Jammer. "He had no idea it was this trashed. I think it's Starbuck."
"Why?" Jammer asked. "Was she the one who bought it out there?"
"Yeah," Seelix replied.
"You gotta be kidding," Jammer said, sounding to Lee as though he was dumbfounded. Lee didn't intend to eavesdrop on their conversation, but people often failed to realize how easily voices carried on the hanger deck.
"'Fraid not," Seelix told Jammer.
"I don't frakking believe it," Jammer said, now sounding irritated. "I just spent 5 days overhauling that dorsal engine of hers. Now you're telling me it's already blown to dust?"
"Hey, there was a pilot in that plane," Seelix said testily.
"Yeah, well pilots are a lot easier to replace than Vipers," Jammer countered.
"You're a real sentimental guy, aren't you Jammer?" Seelix said sarcastically.
"Yeah, and I also happen to be right," Jammer said smugly. "What?" he asked Seelix. "What's the big deal? It's not like she's the first pilot we ever lost and she won't be the last. Better get used to it."
Lee put some distance between himself and the repair crew working on his fighter. He just didn't want to hear any more of their conversation.
Captain Katraine met up with Lee and saluted him. Lee returned the salute automatically. Kat promptly reported, "Everyone is present and accounted for, except Starbuck." Kat's demeanor was calm and efficient, but her voice betrayed a hint of unease. "She was the only casualty, Commander."
It wasn't Kat's job anymore to account for the squadron, but Lee knew he didn't need to double check the accuracy of her report. Although Kat had never flown a Viper until after the Holocaust, she quickly proved to be a natural, both as a pilot and as a professional officer. Kat might have been Kara's student when she first enlisted, but in many ways Kat had soon surpassed her teacher and proved to be better suited for leadership of a fighter squadron than Kara had been. It made perfect sense then that when Kara left the fleet in order to settle on New Caprica with her husband, Sam Anders, Kat had been promoted and took over as Galactica's CAG. She had done the job well too. Even now, Kat was displaying that natural initiative for leadership by stepping up without being asked and looking after her teammates. After the loss of the Pegaus, Lee had rejoined Galactica's crew and taken over his former duties as CAG, but Kat knew the drill and Lee was grateful for her assistance.
"Thank you Kat," Lee said. "I'll report to the admiral. You're in charge down here."
"Yes sir," Kat replied. After a slight hesitation, she said, "Commander?"
"Yes?"
Kat started to say something, but then swallowed it back. Her struggle to find the right words played out across her face. Finally she said, "I'd like to offer a few words at the memorial, sir. I know it seemed like Starbuck and I never really got along, but…" Kat began searching for words again.
Lee threw her a lifeline. "I know," he said quietly. If anyone understood difficult relationships with Kara, it was Lee. "I'm sure she'd appreciate it."
Although he was starting to get his head back into gear by resuming his duties, Lee still felt strangely distanced from everything that was happening. It was as though he was watching life play out around him through someone else's eyes, rather than experiencing it firsthand. Nothing seemed completely real. That sense of detachment grew even stronger as he left the hanger deck and made his way toward the CIC. Everywhere he looked, it was just business as usual for the rest of the crew. People were going about their regular duties just as they always did. He passed by a group of marines who were dressed for PT and heading in the direction of the gymnasium. They were talking about the latest gossip they'd heard on the wireless that morning and laughing heartily about it. Lee actually stopped walking and just watched them until they turned a corner out of sight. He could still hear them laughing.
They were laughing. Kara was dead, and still they were laughingIt just didn't seem right somehow.
When Lee stepped through the hatch into the CIC he spotted Admiral Adama, Colonel Tigh, and Captain Agathon hovering around the center console, studying the scans of the new territory that the fleet had just jumped to. Dee was manning the tactical console on the edge of the main floor, directing the fleet traffic as she always did. Once again, everything looked perfectly routine. Everyone was efficiently going about their duties. Nothing unusual whatsoever. Before he could step out into the center of the room however, he was greeted by someone he didn't expect.
"Commander Adama," Tom Zarek said, smiling warmly. "Nicely done." He strolled casually toward Lee "This is the first time that I've been present here in the CIC during a Cylon attack, and I must say it was quite an eye-opening experience. Out in the fleet, we tend to take it for granted what you all do to defend us. But seeing it all here firsthand… well, it gives me a new appreciation for all your efforts."
"Thank you, Mr. President," Lee said mechanically. "There's no election coming up," Lee thought. "Why does he sound like he's campaigning?"
"Please offer my congratulations to the rest of your team," President Zarek said. "That was quite a successful effort out there today."
"Successful?" Lee asked disdainfully.
"Well yes," Zarek said, smiling just a bit too charmingly. "Today you were outnumbered 2-to-1 and only lost one pilot. We've endured much worse losses than that before. Back during that hostage crisis on Cloud Nine for instance… we lost 3 people that day… and there weren't even any Cylons involved. "
"Only one pilot," Lee thought scornfully. "Glad we made the math easy for you. You only need to subtract 1 from the number on the whiteboard in your office."
"A fine piece of work today indeed," Zarek said. He extended his hand toward Lee in congratulations.
Lee's face was a blank slate, but his voice was laser sharp when he said to President Zarek, "Tell that to the pilot who died." Lee neither shook the President's hand, nor waited for the President's response. He shouldered past him and continued toward the other senior officers at the center console.
Lee was fuming at the President's cavalier attitude, but even so he could almost hear a little voice in his head, teasingly laughing. "What did you expect?" the voice said. "You didn't think the President was going to declare a colonial day of mourning for one pilot, did you?"
"Commander," the admiral called out to Lee.
Lee swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "Sir," he replied to the admiral and stepped up to the console with the other senior officers.
"Sitrep, Commander," the admiral prompted in a lackluster tone. "Any other casualties to report?"
A quick inventory of the gloomy expressions on the faces of the other officers told Lee that they were all keenly aware of Kara's loss. "No sir," Lee said. "No other casualties."
"Good," the admiral said quietly. He took a moment to adjust his glasses, and nodded toward Colonel Tigh.
The colonel took his cue. He pointed out a section on the chart that was laid out on the table. "It appears that we have an asteroid belt in this region. The fleet will be passing pretty close to here by the day after tomorrow. We should take an advanced look and see if there's anything of interest out there."
Lee nodded. "Or anything we want to avoid," he said.
"Yes sir," Tigh agreed.
It still sounded so odd to hear Saul Tigh call him "sir". Saul had never shown any bitterness toward Lee with regard to Lee's leapfrog promotion to the rank of commander, but Lee still felt certain that Saul found their situation just as awkward as Lee did. They were in an especially odd situation now that Lee was back on board Galactica. As the second-highest ranking officer, Lee would normally have filled the job of XO alongside his father. But their shortage of qualified pilots meant that Lee's skills were needed more by the Air Group than by the CIC. Saul could fulfill the duties of XO, but his days in the cockpit were long over. So even though he outranked Colonel Tigh, Lee slipped back into the functional role of CAG, while Saul acted as the ship's XO, with the understanding that Lee was second in the chain of command. Lee and Saul both dealt with their odd arrangement by not dealing with it. They just carried out their duties and never spoke of it.
Doing the job and setting the personal issues aside definitely appeared to be the order of the day. Lee had seen it all over the flight deck. Now he was seeing it in the CIC. He was standing there right alongside those very people whom Kara would have called her closest friends and family. And yet, still within less than an hour of her death, not a word of her passing was spoken between them. Not one of them even mentioned her name.
For several minutes Lee conferred with the other officers about the expected flight path of the fleet through this new region of space, but his mind was only half-involved in the conversation. The other half continued to be confused and amazed that everything was just business-as-usual… as though nothing of any consequence had occurred that day. Lee knew it was necessary, but it just didn't seem right.
"What?" that teasing voice in his head mocked him again. "You didn't think the fleet was just going to come to a dead stop without her, did you?"
"What if I did?" Lee argued back silently. "Would that really be so wrong for one frakking minute?" Then he jumped slightly at the sudden touch of his father's hand on his shoulder.
"Commander?" the admiral said in a quietly compassionate voice. "Everything all right?"
Lee took a deep breath and cleared his throat. "Rough day," he said out loud. His father, Karl, and Saul all nodded sympathetically, but no one offered a reply on the subject. After a brief solemn pause it was just back to business.
Within half an hour Lee and the other senior officers had identified 3 initial primary targets of reconnaissance for his Raptor crews to investigate. Now it was time to make the flight assignments. He headed out of the CIC, passing Dee's station on the way.
"Commander…" she started to say to him as he passed.
Lee gave a quick look in his wife's direction. She looked concerned, but the fleet had to carry on and both of them still had jobs to do to keep their people safe. "No time right now, Lieutenant," he said brusquely and continued on his way.
Lee hadn't gone far outside of the CIC before he heard Dee's voice calling to him again. He turned around and saw her walking quickly to catch up with him. "I really need to get down to the flight deck," he told her.
"I know," Dee said, stepping determinedly up beside her husband. "You need to launch reconnaissance flights and reestablish the CAP." Her voice was cool and professional, as always, but her expression remained concerned.
"And you need to be at tactical," Lee said.
"Yes, I do," she agreed quietly. "But not until I know that you're okay. I heard the chatter from the flight deck and I know your plane took a bad hit. And of course I know about Starbuck. Are you…?"
Lee answered before she could finish voicing her question. "I'm fine."
"Are you?" she challenged him.
Lee looked at his wife. Anastasia Adama, who was still commonly referred to by her former callsign, "Dee," was a very petite lady, but Lee had learned long ago that her small stature was no accurate measure of her strength. She was typically the polite and consummate professional on the job, but she had a mind of her own and the fortitude to stand by it when it was called for. In any battle of wills, she was more than a match for her steadfast husband. Fortunately, Lee also knew that her sense of duty was also just as strong as his, and they were currently both still on the clock.
"I'm well enough," he told her. "I'll see you later." Lee hadn't intended to sound short or cross with her, but he knew that was how it came off. She was only showing concern for his well-being, and he appreciated that, but Lee was not prepared to wallow in his troubles in a public hallway near the CIC. He saw the flash of hurt and anger in her brilliant hazel eyes, but she wasn't the type who would make a public scene. Later though, Lee knew damn well he'd have to face her and return to this discussion again.
Dee nodded, her cool professionalism settling back in. "I'm glad you're okay," she said simply and turned back for the CIC. Lee also turned and continued on his way.
He headed down to the pilots' briefing room to check the current duty rosters. As expected, since there was no briefing in session, the room was empty. Lee strode down to the front of the room and looked over the flight assignments posted on the whiteboard. He was supposed to be looking primarily at the status of his Raptor pilots, but one name on the board in particular jumped out and demanded his attention. "Starbuck." With a lump in his throat, Lee picked up the eraser. He reached up, but then paused. After a few more seconds, Lee put the eraser back down. Starbuck's name remained in place on the board.
The sound of footsteps drew his attention toward the door. He looked over and saw his father entering the room. The admiral walked up to him and stood beside him. They both stood quietly for a few seconds before the admiral broke the silence.
"I was a little worried about you for a minute there back in the CIC," Bill Adama said. "So was Dee."
"Yeah. Sorry 'bout that," Lee replied evenly. "I'm okay."
"There's nothing to apologize for," Bill said. "It's a difficult thing that happened today. Losing someone never gets any easier."
Lee looked back at the whiteboard. "No," Lee said. His eyes scanned over the long list of names. Recalling the earlier conversation between Jammer and Seelix, Lee said, "But it's not the first time I've lost a pilot, and it won't be the last. Besides, I have 32 other pilots to look after right now. That's what matters."
"Kara wasn't just another pilot," Bill said meaningfully.
Lee kept his eyes on the whiteboard instead of turning toward his father. "Life goes on and so does the fleet. Just look out there at the rest of the ship, Dad. Or ask the President. You'd think she never even existed."
"She existed for us," Bill said, quietly emotional. "I've scheduled the memorial service for 1100 hours tomorrow."
Lee nodded. "Kat told me she wants to say a few words."
"What about you?"
Lee finally turned to face his father. "What about me?"
"Didn't you want to say anything tomorrow?"
Lee considered the question for a bit. "I guess I should," he finally answered.
Bill's face showed disapproval. "It's not an obligation Lee. I just thought it was something you'd want to do for your friend." He turned and started to leave.
His father had covered about half the distance to the door when Lee called out after him, "Dad." Bill stopped and turned back around to face his son. "It just doesn't even seem real," Lee told him quietly. "She's dead… and yet… everything's still the same. How can that be?"
Bill returned to stand next to his son. "It's like you said," Bill told Lee gently. "Life does go on. We still have duties to perform, but that doesn't mean we have to forget about the people we've lost."
"I'm not trying to forget," Lee assured him. "I just can't wrap my brain around the fact that it actually happened." He saw his father looking at him with an expression that looked like a cross between confusion and pity. Lee tried to explain. "When I lost Zak… and Mom… things were different afterwards. Things changed. It was real. People weren't just walking around like normal, chatting and laughing. But this time… it's like either people just haven't noticed… or they don't care. It's all back-to-work, carry-on… as if nothing really even happened."
Bill smiled sadly at his son. "It doesn't really matter if anyone else notices… or cares. We care."
Lee closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath. He sounded suddenly very tired when he spoke next. "There wasn't even any warning. None. One moment she was flying right there next to me and the next… she was gone. She didn't fire a single shot. She was our very best and yet today… she didn't even have the chance to fight back." Lee sounded bewildered. "It doesn't make any sense."
"Well Son," Bill said, "contrary to common myth, bullets don't have names on them. Bullets don't care who they kill and they don't discriminate. They don't separate out the weak from the strong. This is war and death is random. Don't even try to find any rhyme or reason in it. There isn't any."
Lee nodded solemnly. Then he said, "Wise words Dad… but not very comforting." Then he shrugged wryly. "But I guess I haven't been of much comfort to you either, have I? And you were closer to Kara than I ever was."
Bill's brow furled in dispute. "You were friends with her before I ever met her."
"Yeah, and we were such great friends back then that after Zak died, we completely lost touch." Lee frowned ironically. "The fact is that if I hadn't been ordered to come here for the decommissioning, I would never have seen her again. And even after we both ended up here on Galactica, we spent just as much time butting heads as we did getting along, and then after less than a year we fell out altogether. That's not exactly what you could call a great friendship for the ages."
Lee scrutinized his father knowingly. "But with you… she was the only family you had for two years. And admit it Dad… in your eyes Kara could do no wrong."
Bill was taken aback by Lee's claim. "That's not true," he declared. "I know damn well Kara was no saint."
"Maybe not a saint," Lee acknowledged, "but there wasn't anything that you couldn't forgive her for."
Surprised again, Bill shook his head. "That's not true either," he told Lee intently. Lee bore little physical resemblance to his father, having inherited his fair looks from his mother. In personality and temperament, however, he was very much like his father, and yet the two of them still remained completely out of touch on many issues.
Bill removed his glasses and regarded his son solemnly. "She was going to marry your brother," he said, "yet she couldn't be honest with him to save his life. She lied to him. She lied to the service. She disregarded her sworn duties and sent Zak into a dangerous situation that she knew he couldn't handle. It got him killed. I never forgave her for that."
Bill's eyes began to grow teary. "Then she spent the next two years lying to me in spite of all I did for her. She lied to you and your mother. She watched our family being torn apart by her lies… and she let it happen. I lost two years with you because I believed her. I never forgave her for that. And the way she behaved toward you and Dee… that was inexcusable. Maybe I didn't cut ties with her the way you did, but I didn't blame you."
Lee was perplexed. "You say you never forgave her… and yet…?"
Bill smiled knowingly. "Be honest with me Son. I've pulled a few humdingers over the years too. Maybe things are better between us now than they used to be, but there are some things I've done that you've never fully forgiven me for. Aren't there?"
Lee had to look away from his father as painful memories flashed unbidden through his mind. Years of broken promises and absences. Zak's constant disappointment. His mother's tears. The other woman whose connections got his father reinstated in the Colonial Fleet. Lee wanted to tell his father that everything was well past and forgiven… but he couldn't. Lee finally had to nod reluctantly that his father was right. The old grudges could perhaps be set aside, but that didn't mean they were necessarily forgiven.
Bill read his son's face and nodded understandingly. "But we're still family," he said gently. "In spite of everything… we will always be family."
Lee finally looked back at his father and said thoughtfully, "Yeah. We will."
"It's the same with Kara," Bill explained. "I didn't have to forgive her every transgression to still love her." His face suddenly became fraught with emotion. With great difficulty, he said, "She was my daughter."
Lee watched his father struggle for control, tears flooding his eyes. After a few seconds, Bill turned away from Lee as the emotion threatened to overwhelm him. Lee then did something that he'd never done before. He walked up to his father and embraced him. The loving gesture from his son pushed Bill over the edge. He clung to Lee and wept.
It was nearly a full minute before the intensity of Bill's grief finally receded. Bill set a grateful hand to the side of Lee's face for a second before father and son stepped apart. They both needed another minute to wipe away the lingering tears and regain control. His voice was still tight when Bill spoke again.
"You and Kara… the two of you hit a few rough spots," Bill observed, "but things were starting to get better again."
"Better," Lee laughed nervously, still regaining his own composure. "Whatever that means. I don't know Dad. Maybe things would have been okay… if we'd had time. But… some bridges just can't be rebuilt after they've been knocked down."
"Maybe not," Bill said, "But you could have built a new one."
Lee considered that, then shrugged. "Only if you've learned from the mistakes that you made when you built the first one… and you don't just try to rebuild on the same shaky ground."
"You two would have managed," Bill said confidently. "You would have, because in spite of everything that happened, the love was still there. She was still family."
Lee nodded his agreement. "Yeah…she was. Dysfunctional… but family." A different thought occurred to Lee then. He asked his father, "Speaking of family, has anyone notified Sam?"
"I don't know," Bill replied solemnly.
"I'll take care of it," Lee volunteered.
Lee had to wait for several minutes while a messenger on the cruise ship Intersun Liner located Sam Anders and the call from Galactica was finally put through. Sam's marriage to Kara had not yet been officially dissolved, but the two had been separated since even before the colonials had escaped the Cylon occupation of New Caprica. Gossip over Kara's status as a Cylon collaborator had driven a wedge between her and her resistance-fighter husband. But it was Kara's rededication to the military after the exodus that appeared to bring their marriage to an end. Kara was a pilot, and though she had left the service to settle on New Caprica with Sam when ex-President Baltar downsized the military, she had never stopped longing to return to flight. With the return of the Cylons, and the rebuilding of the military, Kara had jumped at the chance to regain her wings and restore her reputation. Sam, however, had never been a part of the military and had chosen not to enlist with the marines and settle on Galactica, where he would have been overshadowed and outranked by his wife.
"This is Sam Anders," the voice on the other end of the line said.
Lee thought Sam sounded tired and out of breath. There were rumors that Sam was organizing a competitive pyramid league amongst the civilian population and was attempting to recruit and train new players. He wondered briefly if that was why Sam sounded out of breath. "Sam, this is Lee Adama."
"Commander Adama… what can I do for you?"
"I'm afraid I have some bad news," Lee told him. He had to take a deep breath and clear his throat. "During our engagement with the Cylons today… Kara's Viper was hit. She was killed."
Lee waited for a response, but heard only silence on the other end of the line. After several seconds he asked, "Sam are you there?"
"Yeah. Was it uh… was it quick?"
"Yes," Lee replied. "It was very quick. I don't think Kara even had time to realize what was happening."
"That's good. I mean… it's good that she didn't suffer."
Lee had to take another deep breath. He wondered if perhaps he should have sent a priest or counselor over to the Intersun to deliver the news in person. It was perhaps very impersonal to give someone news like this over the phone, but somehow Lee just didn't feel right about passing the task off to anyone else.
He informed Sam, "We have a memorial service scheduled for 1100 hours tomorrow. I can arrange for a Raptor to come get you."
"That… that won't be necessary."
"It's no trouble. The intrafleet shuttle schedules can be pretty unreliable."
"That's not the point. Look… it's not like a burial or anything right? You don't have a body."
"No we don't, but…"
"Then it's all just military ceremony… protocol and pomp and all that, right?"
"Yeah, I guess," Lee had to agree.
"Well… I'm not military Lee, and that's not the Kara that I knew. She wasn't into dress uniforms and ceremonies. So, you all say goodbye to her in your way, and I'll say goodbye in mine."
Lee winced. "If you prefer. Look Sam… um… I hope that you're not feeling like you're unwelcome here. Military or not, you were family to her and we all know that."
"I appreciate that Lee, but... this thing you have planned…that's for you pilots and such to say your farewells, by all of your traditions. And welcome or not… I'm not one of you. I need to do this in my own way."
"All right," Lee said. There was still another question to be addressed. "Is there anything among her personal effects that you'd like to have?"
There was another long silence on the other end of the line before Lee finally heard a reply. "No. But thanks for asking."
"You're welcome," Lee replied. "Look if you happen to change your mind… just know that you're welcome to join us and don't hesitate to call me."
"I'll keep that in mind."
With that, the line clicked off from the other end. Lee slowly hung up the receiver and had to take another long deep breath.
Lee was surprised that Sam had wanted nothing of Kara's as a keepsake. He wasn't sure what Kara had in her possession, but it suddenly occurred to him that someone had to tackle the job of cleaning out her locker. Her uniforms and other generic items would be submitted to the ship's stores for use amongst the rest of the crew, but her more personal effects also needed to be dispositioned. If Sam didn't want any of it, perhaps there was something that the admiral would like to keep.
Lee headed down to the senior pilots' duty locker. Upon arriving, he was surprised to see that Kat and Racetrack had already nearly completed the job. He experienced a sudden flash of anger over what he briefly perceived as an invasion of Kara's privacy. Then he realized that Kat and Racetrack were only doing what Lee himself had intended to do. They just beat him to it by a few minutes; Kat's natural self-initiative to act as deputy-CAG was still on display.
Kat stood to attention and saluted when she caught sight of Lee. "Attention! Senior officer in the room." Racetrack also snapped to attention.
"As you were," Lee told them. He walked up and gave a quick look at where things stood. Most everything had already been sorted through; items for ship's stores were in one box, personal items were in another.
Kat picked up one item and offered it to Lee. "We set this aside for you Commander. We thought you'd like to have it."
Lee accepted the photograph that Kat held out toward him. He looked at it and felt a deep tightening within his gut. The picture had been taken over four years ago at the Colonial Fleet Aviation Training School, where Kara was an instructor and Zak was still a student. Zak and Kara stood snuggling in each other's arms while Lee stood nearby though slightly apart from the other two. Those had been wonderful days for the three of them. Zak and Kara were madly in love and engaged to be married, and Lee had formed a fast (if not impervious) friendship with his brother's bride-to-be. It was long before anyone knew of the coming Cylon threat. The Twelve Colonies still bloomed with life and the future still looked bright and full of possibilities.
"How innocent we were," Lee reflected sadly. Zak and Kara looked so happy in the photograph. It was difficult to believe that they were both dead now.
"Commander?" Racetrack asked. "Is there anything else of hers that you wanted?"
Lee set his reverie aside to give the box they had packed a quick look-over. He lifted a scuffed pyramid ball from the box. Sam had said he didn't want anything, but…
"Have this sent to Samuel T. Anders over on the Intersun Liner," he told Racetrack.
"I'll be damned," Kat exclaimed. She was on her knees and had just pulled a wooden box out from under Kara's rack. The box was now open and Kat had removed the contents: two metallic icons representing two of the Lords of Kobol, wrapped carefully in cloth. "I didn't know Starbuck had any patron gods."
They all recognized who the icons represented. "Artemis and Aphrodite," Racetrack said. "I didn't know she prayed to them either."
Lee shook his head, equally surprised. "Neither did I." He walked over and took up one of the small icons, the one representing Artemis. Goddess of the Hunt. Twin sister of Apollo. Lee couldn't help smiling at the apparent coincidence. He decided to give the Artemis icon to his father, and Vice President Roslin might appreciate the icon of Aphrodite. "I'll take these," he told Kat. "Everything else should be submitted to ship's stores."
Lee spent the rest of the day alternately working his way through the fitness reports that he'd had to set aside when the Cylon attack occurred that morning and contemplating what he would say at Kara's memorial service the next day. His father was much better at making speeches than Lee was. In this case, Lee had no idea how to even begin. Sam had been right about one thing. Kara disliked much of the military's reliance on ceremony and protocol, and she definitely hated dress uniforms. Perhaps something more akin to Kara's own personal preferences would be more appropriate than the standard military honors. There was no body to dispose of out of an airlock, so there really was no functional requirement to hold the service on the hanger deck as they usually would. He would have to give it some additional thought.
After several hours of paperwork and fruitless attempts at speech writing, Lee developed a pounding headache. He finally pushed himself away from his desk, swallowed a couple of pills and went to lie down until the headache subsided. It was times like these, when Lee really wanted a little solitude and quiet, that he was grateful to have private quarters on Galactica instead of returning to the regular pilots' quarters that he'd occupied during his previous tenure as CAG. His current quarters had previously been occupied by ex-President Baltar, back before the mad scientist had begun his ill-fated administration. They were not as spacious or well-appointed as the commander's quarters on the Pegasus had been, but privacy in any form was a true luxury on a battlestar and Lee didn't take that for granted.
He stretched out on his rack. After a few minutes of staring at the ceiling he craned his neck around toward the shelf at the head of the bed. Two pictures were sitting there; a framed picture of his wedding day with Dee and the unframed photograph from flight school with Zak and Kara. He would need to scrounge up a proper frame for the photo to preserve it. Kara had been none-too-careful with it; the corners were frayed from the tape that she used to secure it to the inside of her locker door.
He picked up the photograph and looked at it mournfully. It was the only picture in existence of his younger brother as a grown man. His father had other photos of Zak, but there were all very old, taken when Zak as still just a child. With a pang of deep regret Lee realized that he couldn't remember the sound of his brother's voice. Worse, Lee had no recent photographs of his mother nor any at all of Gianne. All of Bill's pictures of Caroline Adama were equally as old as those of his children, and Bill didn't even know about the woman whom Lee had been engaged to back on Caprica. It was gradually becoming difficult for Lee to recall in detail what his mother and his fiancé had looked like in those final days before the Holocaust. Lee soon felt his eyes flooding with tears. One by one, he was losing everyone he ever loved and little by little, time was taking even his memories of his lost loved ones away from him.
And now Kara was gone too. How long would it be before he could scarcely remember her either?
Lee wished that he could just stop caring once and for all. It would make life much easier. After losing Gianne, he tried to wall off his heart for a while, for he knew that as soon as he let himself care again, the grief he'd been holding at bay would inevitably invade as well. Kara briefly came close to getting past his defenses at one point, but only until it was shortly thereafter apparent that her affections were actually with Sam Anders, and not with Lee. But Kara had succeeded in opening up a crack in the wall, and Dee soon found her way in. Lee fell in love again… but there was a downside. Opening himself up to love also meant making himself vulnerable to the pain of loss again. And now, just such a loss had occurred once more.
Lee made a frustrated swipe clear his eyes. He wanted to see the photograph clearly. "This is the only picture I have of you," he whispered to Kara's miniature image. "And I can only see half your face."
"At least it's the good half." Kara responded.
Lee sat up suddenly and stared in silent shock. 'Kara' was seated at the foot of the bed, lounging casually against the wall, facing him. She looked right at him, tapping her fingers against her outstretched leg, as though just waiting for him to say something.
It took Lee several more seconds to find his voice. "Are you…real?"
She cocked her head slightly. "Depends on what you mean by real."
"Are you going to disappear as soon as I blink?"
"I will if you just sit there staring and don't say anything," she told him. "You know how I hate to be ignored."
Lee almost felt like he was hyperventilating. "Are you really here Kara… or am I going insane?"
She smirked. "Does it have to be one or the other?" Her smile broadened and she leaned forward, reaching for the photograph in Lee's hand. To his amazement he actually felt the tug on the photo as she drew it toward her where she could see it.
Her face took on a dreamy, nostalgic look. "Those were good times, weren't they?"
"Yeah… they were," he replied, still regarding her with some suspicion.
"You know… I never had a clue back then just how good I had it," she told him. "With a job at flight school…Zak… and you. We all thought the future was wide open to us. Nothing but good times ahead." She sat back against the wall with a sentimental sigh. "Those were the best days of my life."
Her eyes looked directly back into Lee's. "We were at our best then too, weren't we? As friends, that is."
Lee pondered the question for a bit, and then nodded. "Yeah," he agreed. "We were."
"You know why that is, don't you?" she asked him. "Because it was all clear and simple. We knew exactly what we were to each other... what we could be to each other... and what we couldn't. We knew where the boundaries were… and crossing those lines never even occurred to us."
She looked away from him across the room. Regretfully she said, "We should have kept it that way. Once we let the lines start to blur, and we really didn't know where we stood with each other any more… that's when it all slowly fell apart... little by little, piece by piece, until there was almost nothing left. We were really good as friends… as family… but we weren't suited to be any more than that... not to each other."
"I know," Lee said thoughtfully. "You needed somebody who could place you up on a pedestal and worship you… someone who could adore you, unconditionally... just like Zak did… and Sam too… at first."
A slow grin spread across Kara's face. "But you couldn't… because you knew me too well?" she asked.
"That's not what I meant," Lee said. He tried to explain. "I just want to be in a relationship… not a religion."
Kara laughed out loud. "Yeah, you always were my touchstone and not my cheerleader." She regarded him affectionately. "That was what I needed from a friend… and from my boss… but I wanted something different from a lover… somebody who didn't keep track of my screwups and who could lift me up, not keep me grounded."
Her eyes studied him knowingly. "And you… you wanted a lover who could support you and respect you… not be an insubordinate loudmouth and constant thorn in your side. I was enough of a pain in the ass to handle on the job; you didn't need to deal with my crap in your home life too."
"You weren't always a thorn in my side," he told her.
"Yeah… only on my good days." She smirked.
Lee wondered why he was engaging in this conversation. This couldn't be real. Why did he feel the need to play into this hallucination and offer it support? He didn't understand it, but he couldn't help himself from continuing either. As much as it disturbed him, he also didn't want it to end.
"We were doing better," he told her. "We were starting to, anyway. I was really beginning to think that it might be like old times again." He offered Kara a gentle smile. "Hell, I haven't had to put a boot up your ass for almost a week now."
Kara cracked up laughing. "I know! I was starting to think that I might actually get labeled as a real 'professional' pretty soon. Scary huh?"
"You had it in you," Lee said.
Kara shrugged noncommittally. "Maybe buried down deep somewhere. Who knows? A little more time, and you might have brought it out in me."
Very delicately, Lee asked, "So you think… you think we would've been okay this time?"
Kara nodded. "Yeah, I think so," she said sincerely. "Oh, we would have still butted heads occasionally, but… not as harshly as before."
Kara dropped her eyes down toward her lap, as though she couldn't quite manage to face him anymore. With deep regret she told him, "Fact is Lee… driving you out of my life was one of the stupidest things I ever did. I know why I did it, but it was still stupid… and totally selfish."
She licked her lips and swallowed hard. "I had Sam… and I loved him… but… I don't have such a great track record of maintaining relationships. Deep down, I knew that eventually I'd screw it up and Sam would want out… and he'd leave me just like everyone else ever did. So when it really looked like you were genuinely falling for Dee… I got scared."
"Scared?" Lee asked, puzzled.
Kara took a deep breath and explained, "If Sam left me… but you already had someone else in your life… then you might not have time for me anymore… even as my friend."
Lee was still bewildered. "So you went out of your way to make sure you wouldn't have me as your friend? That doesn't make much sense."
Kara rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well I've told you my mind works in strange ways. I wasn't trying to drive you away… I just didn't want to accept that what you had with Dee might be real. I was afraid she'd come between us. And… she did."
Lee defended his wife. "She wasn't between us until you forced her into that position."
"I know," Kara acknowledged. "I freaked out and you had to choose between your irrational drunken friend and the woman you loved." Kara contritely told Lee, "You made the right choice. I knew that as soon as I sobered up. Dee is a good woman… and I'm glad she's here for you. We all are."
"We?"
"Yeah. We girls all had a nice little chat about you earlier."
Lee was stumped. "All you girls?"
Kara nodded. "Me…your mother… and Gianne."
Lee's heart suddenly sank. "So you are just a hallucination."
Kara squinted at him. "Why do you say that?"
"Because I never told you about Gianne," he said. "You couldn't possibly know anything about her."
"Your mother introduced us," Kara said. "You have quite a female fan club over on this side. You should be flattered."
Kara's demeanor turned suddenly very somber. Very tenderly, she told him, "And uh… by the way… we all know that you've always wondered about this… so… your baby… it would have been a boy."
Lee was so stunned that he actually stopped breathing. His eyes immediately clouded with tears. He couldn't look at Kara any more and turned his face away from her.
Kara added gently, "And… Gianne knows that you loved her… and that you would have set things right with her after the decommissioning… if you'd the chance."
Lee felt ready to absolutely jump out of his skin. This couldn't be happening… and yet… there he was, talking to Kara… his friend who had died earlier that day when her Viper erupted into a ball of flame. He was sitting there, in his own rack on Galactica, chatting with this dead woman about Gianne… the first love of his life who had conceived his first child shortly before dying in the Holocaust.
Lee had never spoken of Gianne to any of his family or friends, not even to his wife. His memories of Gianne were so rife with feelings of horrendous guilt and regret that Lee had never yet reached a point where he could bring himself to speak of her. The magnitude of that private pain was both so devastating and so precious to Lee that he just could not share it with anyone else. Yet, here was Kara speaking about Gianne as freely as though the two women had just bumped into each other in the hallway and had a little passing girl-chat. Lee simply couldn't accept this. It was incomprehensible.
Skeptically, he challenged Kara, "Why are you telling me this? Why not Gianne?"
Kara shrugged. "She dosn't have the kind of baggage to deal with that I do. Unfinished business… that whole thing. It sounds like a cliché, but it turns out to be true." She cocked her head slightly to one side and added, "That doesn't mean that she isn't here for you though. Zak and your mom are too by the way, even if they are being quieter about it than I am. "
Lee stared at Kara. "This can't possibly be real," he thought.
Kara's face suddenly broke out into a broad grin, as though she'd just read his mind. "You don't believe me," she chuckled.
Lee didn't hesitate to reply. "I saw you die… and I've never believed in ghosts."
"Then I guess you are going insane," Kara said without missing a beat. She punctuated her statement with one of her trademark winks.
"Or I'm dreaming," Lee suggested. He was suddenly certain of it. "I am, aren't I? This is a dream." His surroundings all looked very real. He was in his familiar quarters on Galactica, though his desk looked tidier than it should have. And Dee wasn't there. At this hour, she would have been off duty by now, but there was no sign of her. "This is just a dream," he stated simply.
"Could be. But did it occur to you that I could still be real even if you're dreaming?"
"No, not really."
She smiled wryly. "I could be using your dreams to communicate with you. Or… I could be nothing more than your imagination at work." She playfully nudged his leg with her toe. "But whether I'm real or not, does it really matter? I mean… either way, this is your chance to say goodbye."
That suggestion almost made Lee wince. "Goodbye," he thought. "How can this really be goodbye?"
Lee felt himself growing suddenly very emotional again. His throat grew tight and it was difficult to speak. "I always thought… I thought you'd outlive us all."
Kara frowned in disapproval. "Well that was selfish of you," she quipped. "What made you think I wanted to be left behind?"
Lee didn't know what to say to that. "I just thought…"
"You just thought it would be easier if you didn't have to be the one left behind," she interrupted. She indignantly crossed her arms over her chest. "Well I had enough of that in my life, thank you very much. And it just so happens, I'm glad it went down this way. Quick. No fuss. No drama." She grimaced dramatically at the thought. "Gods, I'm glad there was no drama! I would have hated going out in the midst of some weepy, teary scene. Oh! And no pain. That's a big plus by the way. I really recommend the 'no pain' part, if you can help it."
"I'll try to remember that."
The playfulness faded from Kara's face and her expression grew wistful. "Seriously though Lee… I really am okay with this," she said quietly and sincerely. "I can put up a pretty brash front, but… underneath it all… I was never that strong. I always needed a crutch to lean on… Zak, you, your father, Sam. When I didn't have someone to prop me up, I always fell. That's why I had to be the one to go first."
Kara sat forward to get another look at the photograph in Lee's hand. He held it out where they could both see it, and they both reflected upon those happier times, now long past. In the picture, Kara stood happily snuggling with Zak, while Lee stood slightly apart from them both, nearby but separate, standing erect and looking much more serious than either Kara or his brother.
Kara smiled. "You were always the strong one," she said. "Stronger than me and Zak put together. We both leaned on you, but you always stood firm all on your own. You know don't you, that Zak entered flight school to please your father, but it was your example he was trying follow? He wanted to make your father proud, but you were his hero. You still are."
Lee winced. "I'm no hero," he said frowning, speaking the word 'hero' with obvious distaste.
Kara shook her head, grinning. "You really don't see it, do you? You are a hero Lee. You're the only one who doesn't see it that way."
Lee rolled his eyes skeptically. "You never did."
Kara smirked. "Sure I did. I just didn't want you to know it." Her face grew serious again. "But even heroes have their limits and just because you can stand on your own, Tough Guy, that doesn't mean you always have to slug it out all alone." Kara looked at Lee directly and intently. "You have Dee," she said pointedly. "She loves you. And underneath that ladylike appearance, she's a tough little bitch. She'll stand with you, if you let her. Don't piss that away, okay? Let her love you. You deserve it."
Lee considered what Kara told him. He didn't know what to say in response. It was almost as if in addition to chatting with Gianne, Kara had also had a little talk with Dee. If there was any particular problematic issue in his marriage, Lee knew it was his tendency to shut Dee out of his problems… just as he had earlier that very day in fact.
Lee regarded Kara quizzically. "You're speaking well of Dee. That's not like you."
Kara acknowledged Lee's point with a deprecating chuckle. "Yeah well, you get a whole new perspective seeing things from this side. I was never fair to Dee. I wish I had been, 'cause… well… I wouldn't have alienated you… and I think… I think maybe Dee and I might have even become pretty good friends. Oh… your Mom really likes her by the way… and Zak thinks she's hot."
Lee couldn't stifle a sudden laugh. In his mind's eye, Lee could just picture his little brother looking Dee over and nodding his approval. "Tell him she's spoken for," Lee chuckled.
"I did," Kara proclaimed sounding just a tad possessive of Lee's younger brother. "And thanks for calling Sam." Kara looked thoughtful for a few seconds, then she said quietly, "He won't come to the service tomorrow, but…" Her voice trailed off.
Lee felt the need to offer some reassurance to Kara. Her marriage to Sam Anders had faltered during the harrowing events of the Cylon occupation on New Caprica, but Lee knew that Sam still loved Kara, and perhaps given time they might have worked things out. "He just wants to say goodbye in his own way," Lee told her. "He never stopped loving you. Maybe if the two of you had had more time…"
"Yeah… maybe," Kara said pensively. Very quietly she added, "He'll say goodbye in his own way."
"So," Lee said with difficulty, "this… really is goodbye, isn't it?"
She offered him a gentle smile and nodded. "For now. I'll see you later."
"How much later?"
Her smile spread into an impish grin. "You don't really want me to spoil the surprise, do you?"
Lee thought about that question for a few seconds and shook his head. "No. Not really."
"Good," she replied, "because I really have no idea."
Lee looked at his friend and smiled. "We really would have been okay this time, wouldn't we?" It wasn't really a question. He already felt sure of the answer.
Kara smiled back at him and nodded. "Yeah," she confirmed. "We would've. Some bridges can be rebuilt."
"If you have the time," he said sadly. "I'm gonna miss you."
Kara blinked hard, as though holding back the urge to cry. "Hey," she said firmly, "I told you I didn't want any weepy, teary scenes."
"Too bad," he told her, feeling his own eyes growing moist and somehow knowing that the moment of farewell was drawing imminently near.
"In that case… I'm outta here," she declared. But instead of jumping up and rushing off or disappearing into thin air, she paused. "One last thing," she said. "Tell Kat… that cup is still mine. I'm entrusting it to her, but if she ever loses it, I'm gonna kick her ass."
"Reveille, reveille. All hands, heave out and trice up. Reveille."
Lee blinked. He almost wasn't sure that he'd heard the voice over the loudspeakers declaring the wake-up call to the crew. However, a quick glance toward the clock on the shelf at the head of his bed confirmed for Lee that it was indeed 0600 hours, time to get up and start the day.
He let his head fell back against the pillow. "So it was just a dream," he thought sadly. "Kara wasn't really here."
He looked back toward the shelf, where he'd propped the picture of Kara and Zak the night before. It wasn't there. For a few seconds he was confused. He hadn't dreamed about the picture. He really had taken possession of it from Kara's belongings the day before. He was certain of it. And he was certain he'd left it on the shelf last night.
It suddenly dawned on him that Dee wasn't in bed beside him. He didn't even remember when she came in the night before. He'd nodded off early after taking a pill for his headache and had slept right through until morning. Had she come to bed at all that night?
He spotted her then sitting at the desk, quietly sorting through a stack of papers. She was already dressed and ready for duty. Lee rolled into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He said to his wife. "Hey…I didn't even hear you come in last night."
Dee glanced over at Lee then returned her attention to the papers in her hands. "I noticed." With a slight grin tugging at her lips, she told him, "You were snoring up a storm. You only do that when you're really tired. It would have taken a full-on alert to wake you."
"You're up early though," he commented.
Dee gave a slight nod. "The coffee is ready if you want some."
Lee pushed himself to his feet. "Thanks." Blinking the grainy feeling from his eyes he went to pour himself a cup of coffee. As he did so, he asked, "Have you seen a photograph of Zak and Kara? I thought I put it on the shelf at the head of the bed yesterday."
"It's over here," Dee replied.
Lee turned around and saw her pointing toward a corner of the desk. A frame sat there that hadn't been there before. He walked over and picked it up. It was indeed the same photograph that Kara used to keep taped inside her locker door, but the frame was new.
"You did this?" he asked, indicating the frame. He knew it was a dumb question. Who else could have framed the picture?
She nodded casually. "I saw it on the shelf last night… found a frame for it in ship's stores this morning."
"How long have you been up?" he asked.
She shrugged. "A few hours."
Lee walked around the desk to stand beside the chair where Dee was seated. He reached a hand down and gently brushed his fingers against her cheek. "You feeling okay?" he asked.
She offered him a gentle smile. "I'm fine. Just one of those nights. I woke up from a dream and couldn't get back to sleep. No big deal. Figured I might as well get up and do something productive."
Lee broached the next question carefully. "And you don't mind?"
"About what?"
Lee knew she was being coy. "The picture," he prodded.
"A picture of you and your brother? Why would I mind?" She gave him a sly look.
Lee knew this game. They'd played it before a few times. He'd put her off the day before and she was now returning the favor. The next move was his. "It isn't just me and Zak in the picture," he said. "Kara never did quite endear herself to you."
Dee's playful expression turned more somber. "No, she didn't," Dee agreed. "But…she was your friend in a time back before I ever met you… and I know the memories of those times are very important to you." Her face grew sorrowful as she said, "I don't have any pictures of my friends back on Sagitarron before the Holocaust… but I wish that I did. And I know how much those pictures would mean to me now if I had them… so I understand how much that picture probably means to you."
Lee was deeply touched. Dee's capacity for empathy amazed him at times. It was one of the reasons he loved her and had chosen to marry her. At that moment, Lee knew once again he'd made a wise choice in selecting a wife.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "I'm sorry I was so short with you yesterday. I just didn't know yet where my head was at about Kara."
"Everyone has to grieve in their own way," she reassured him.
Lee was suddenly vividly reminded about his dream, where 'Kara' had told him, "Just because you can stand on your own doesn't mean you always have to tough it out alone. Dee loves you. She'll stand with you, if you let her." Lee knew Kara hadn't really been speaking to him, but the words hit home all the same.
"Yeah," he agreed. "Grief is a private thing… but you don't have to face it alone."
Dee reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "You know… the dream I had last night… it was actually about Kara."
Lee almost flinched. "You… had a dream about Kara?"
"Yeah," she confirmed. "I don't remember a whole lot about it, except that… we talked… and I think she seemed okay with how things turned out yesterday." Her face grew reflective as she recalled, "Kara always put up such a tough front, but… underneath it all she really wasn't that strong. She always needed to have someone that she could lean on: you, your father, Sam. I don't think she could have handled being left behind, all alone. I think that's why she didn't mind being the next one to go, before losing anyone else."
"You… dreamt that?" Lee was stunned. Was it possible? Had Kara really spoken to Lee… and Dee too… in their dreams?
Noting the dumbstruck expression on her husband's face, Dee blanched in regret. "That sounds horribly callous of me doesn't it? It sounds like I'm declaring that what happened yesterday was all fine and no big deal. I'm sorry."
Lee shook his head emphatically. "No… don't be sorry. You two may not have been the best of friends, but … you understood her pretty well. I think… given time… the two of you might have become friends after all."
"You think so?" Dee considered the idea, then gave a light laugh. "Maybe we could have… but you know we would have ganged up on you at some point. You think you could have handled that?"
Lee smirked. "I don't know." Wistfully he said, "It would have been nice to find out though."
Captain Louanne Katraine stepped forward to the front of the crowd and turned to face the assembled group in the pilots' ready room, standing erect with her hands behind her back. Most everyone was seated around the tables, but a few stood along the walls or in whatever space was available at the back of the room. Kat cleared her throat. She was comfortable with addressing her squadron in mission briefings, but formal speeches were another matter entirely. She hoped she didn't appear too nervous, because it wasn't just her fellow pilots who were there. All the top brass was present too, which was to be expected considering that they were all Starbuck's closest friends and family.
"I don't really have a speech prepared," she told the crowd. "I'm not really here to make a speech at all, exactly. I just wanted to… well…" Kat had to clear her throat again. "Just get to the point," she told herself.
"We all know that Starbuck was the very best of the best," Kat declared. "She was The Top Gun. Maybe on a good day I could give her a run for the money, but everybody knows that when she was on her game, she was unbeatable. Yeah, I gave her a hard time sometimes, but it was never because I didn't respect her. See, I knew how great she could be… and that's why I kept after her. If you're going to chase after somebody, to test yourself, you might as well chase after the very best… otherwise you'll never really know how well you measure up. And Starbuck set the standard for all of us."
She self-consciously asked the crowd, "I'm rambling, aren't I?" A few sympathetic laughs rippled through the room. Kat smiled, trying to relax with only marginal success. She brought her hands out from behind her back. In her left hand, she held the traditional Top Gun trophy, a stein passed around through the squadron into the possession of the reigning top pilot. Kat held the stein aloft where everyone could see it. "Starbuck and I traded this little baby off a few times… and competed for it more than a few times. But the fact is… that this…rightfully belongs to one… and only one person. Starbuck. We all know there'll never be anybody better, so… today… it's going into retirement."
Kat turned around and placed the stein upon a shelf on the wall. Then she stepped back. "Starbuck, this is yours… and it always will be." Her voice had begun to break at the end, but Kat had finished and she quietly resumed her seat.
Lee gave Kat an encouraging smile, then he stood up and stepped forward to face the crowd. His eyes scanned quickly around the room. There were no dress grays in the room. Pilots and command staff were either in their flight suits or standard day uniforms. Nobody stood at attention. There was no honor guard nor any flags. Everyone was gathered casually around the tables in groups with their friends. His father and Dee were seated next to each other at the front table, watching him. Everyone was watching him, very soberly and very quietly.
"I've spent a lot of time since yesterday mulling over what I should say here today, trying to decide how we could best honor Kara Thrace," he solemnly addressed the assembly. "Should I stand up here and extol her virtues… or should I tell the truth about her?"
That drew a burst of spontaneous nervous laughter from the crowd. People shifted around a little and the level of tension was palpably relieved.
Lee smiled at them all and spoke to them then not as a formal assembly, but as a gathering of friends. "Let's face it. We all know that Kara was no saint." Lee saw his father react to that with a sudden smile. He continued, "In the cockpit, she was an ace. Out of the cockpit she was frequently a pain in the ass. But what I think I will remember most about Kara is not her loudmouth attitude… nor her extraordinary skills… but the fact that she was more alive than anyone else I've ever known. In a room full of candles… it was always her light that shone the brightest."
Lee offered the crowd a self-deprecating smirk. "Sorry for the trite imagery," he told them, "but it's true. And I think that's why people just couldn't help but be drawn to her. Everyone here knows what I'm talking about, even if we can't define it in scientific terms." Lee saw Kat and several others nodding thoughtfully in agreement.
"There were few things that Kara hated more than blending in and being overlooked," Lee said. "But she didn't even need to try to make herself get noticed, because her energy… her life… was so strong, she couldn't be ignored. You didn't even have to be looking in her direction to know that she was in the room, because her light was always reflected onto everyone and everything else around her. Unfortunately, the light that burns twice as bright only burns half as long… and our lives are all a little bit dimmer now as a result of her passing."
Lee continued in a more somber manner than before. "I've tried to reconcile for myself how it can be that a life force so powerful as Kara's could be snuffed out so… easily… with no warning of any kind. It seemed to me that we should have all been able to see it coming. There should have been… banners flying, or trumpets playing a fanfare of some kind to announce what was about to happen. It just didn't seem right that one moment she was there… and the next she was just…gone."
Lee looked toward his father. "But as a very wise man reminded me… contrary to common myth, bullets do not have names on them." He saw his father react with a sad smile. "There is no rhyme or reason to who they kill. That is simply the nature of war. And Kara knew that. She was a warrior. She knew the risks and she accepted them.
"In fact, the more I thought about all of this, the more I came to realize that if she had a choice… this is exactly how Kara would have wanted it to happen. She went out doing exactly what she loved to do… flying… and facing the enemy head-on. She wouldn't have wanted a fanfare, or any long weepy, dramatic goodbyes. Quick. Painless. And no fuss. That's why I moved these services here to the ready room instead of holding this gathering in a more formal setting on the hanger deck, full of pomp and protocol. Because when Starbuck wasn't in the cockpit, this is where she felt at home. Not in dress grays. Not in parade stance. Just here, among her family and friends.
"Someday soon… maybe only a few months from now… there will be new pilots in this very room… who never met Starbuck. Soon, the day will come when a few of us will be reminiscing about her, swapping old stories… and some nugget is actually going to ask, 'Who is Starbuck?' It may seem almost incomprehensible to us now that a fellow pilot would have no idea who she is. But when that question is asked… 'Who is Starbuck?'... it won't be just a sad sign of her passing, because there will still be those of us here who can answer that question. She won't be forgotten. We will remember her, and we'll have plenty of stories to tell. And once those stories are told, then there will be one more person who knows who Starbuck is. And someday he'll pass along those stories too when another nugget joins the group.
"So even though Kara's life is now over… this… is where the Legend of Starbuck begins."
The wake was in full swing when Lee excused himself from the table. The booze, laughter, and stories about Starbuck were all freely flowing throughout the ready room, but Lee had a quick task to take care of.
In sharp contrast to the boisterous atmosphere down the hall, the briefing room was empty and quiet. Lee strode down toward the front of the room and stood silently for several seconds before the whiteboard. Then he solemnly picked up the eraser. After a final brief pause, he reached up and wiped the name "Starbuck" from the list.
His breath caught for a minute in his throat and his eyes misted over. Then he set the eraser down and stepped back. He stared at the vacant line on the whiteboard for a few more seconds. Then taking a deep breath, he turned and walked away to rejoin his family.