Captain Lee "Apollo" Adama
Lee Adama strides across the maintenance hangar towards an old Mark II Viper. A placard declares the name "Raygun". Petite legs stick out from under the Viper like a cockeyed pair of extra skids.
Lee has come to the maintenance hangar to check on equipment status and to tell Kara she's been demoted back to wingman. Colonel Tigh has just told Lee that he is now CAG, Commander Air Group, on the Galactica. Lee has bypassed exec. CAG and all the other intermediate positions and rocketed straight to the top. It is a fortune of war he could have lived without.
Lee hot rockets through everything in his life. That's how he got the call sign "Apollo." Preacherman gave Lee the name back in flight school. Sliding up next to Lee in dress review, Preach whispers, "You're hot stuff, Lee, just like Apollo." When Lee's eyebrows waggle a question, Preach explains, "Apollo traveled to Kobol's moon on fiery rockets and brought back moon rocks. From them the Kobol Lords discovered tylium and tylium took them to the stars. Real hot stuff. Don't you read the Sacred Scrolls?" They both got two demerits for whispering in parade.
Lee and Preacherman served together on the Columbia, Lee's last assignment. The Columbia is gone. All the battlestars are gone.
Lee has not yet processed all the dying, the billions and billions of lives that have been lost. He just wants to see a face he knows, one that might even be glad to see him. Might be. It's always hard to know with Kara. She has a temper like a spider cat and as nasty a bite, not to mention the right hook.
The last time Lee saw Kara they'd argued about his father. They have always argued about his father.
Lee smiles. Kara's face is covered in black grease. As she twists a socket wrench, her breasts move loosely under regulation knit double undershirt. She is a Viper goddess, beautiful for what she is not for her elegance.
Lee has always loved her. Even when Kara was Zak's, he loved her. Zak saw that in Lee's eyes and they argued a week before his fatal crash. "You're not the only hotshot Adama," Zak had said as he walked away.
Zak has been gone two years now and Lee still loves Kara. But he is afraid. Kara might be the only friend he has left. Every human is dead except for the handful they hide here at Ragnarok. From two hundred and fifty billion down to fifty thousand and Lee has only the one friend.
"Hey!" Lee calls softly in warning because it's never good to startle Kara. Lying under a Viper is an awkward position, but he's seen her attack from worse and still win the fight.
The public address bleats announcements. Crewmen climb in and out of Raygun's Viper.
Kara does not speak. For several heartbeats she is frozen with her arms still in the Viper's bowels. Her eyes lock on to Lee's. Sliding her creeper clear she takes the hand he offers. She holds on to it for a long time. Her own hand is greasy.
Kara has touched him. It is a good sign.
Lee resists the desire to wipe away the grease and smiles encouragingly. Kara has tried to speak three times. Finally she gets out, "I thought you were dead." It sounds accusing.
"Well, I thought you were in hack." Kara's evil grin and chuckle answers that. She has always loved being in trouble. At flight school Kara and Lee had made a cat and rat pair of friends: he the straight arrow son of the Fleet's most decorated commander and she the first student ever to rack more demerits than grade points.
"It's good to be wrong," Kara manages to stammer, nodding her head. Apparently she has forgotten their argument. Kara is glad to see him alive. She is still Lee's friend.
"Well, you should be used to it by now," Lee tweaks her. Kara loves to be teased.
"Everyone has a skill," Kara pops back without thinking. That had been Zak's answer to every problem, a saying that he used every day, and it unexpectedly brings him into the conversation.
Lee tries not to react, but Kara takes a sharp breath and her face falls. Her strong shoulders scrunch together. She realizes what she has said. Lee comes to her rescue. He changes the subject. "So how go the repairs?" he asks, gesturing at the Mark II with his chin.
Kara gratefully picks up the new conversational thread. "On track. Another hour and she'll be ready to launch," she answers hugging her bare arms close, smearing even more grease across the fair skin.
They nod together like an anchored pair of marker buoys working off momentum.
The loudspeaker blats something about tomorrow's schedule for compartment repairs.
"So I guess you're the new CAG now," Kara continues.
"That's what they tell me." Lee wonders if Kara minds being outranked by her old friend.
That's not what Kara is thinking at all. "That's good. It's the last thing I want. I'm not a big enough dipstick of the job."
Lee's slow take shows that he's caught the insult. Now that was low … and good. Lee can't stop a smile and Kara's impish grin answers. She has scored and she knows it. They both feel better, more normal. Even at the end of the world friends can still joke with each other.
Lee decides that its time to go. "I'll be in the squadron …" he begins, but his eyes drop down to the two hard little buttons pushing through Kara's layers of knit shirt. Apparently Kara is really glad to see him. Lee tears his eyes away from her blatant declaration and finishes his sentence, "… ready room." He has missed two beats.
Lee sees that Kara has caught his look, but she's still smiling and doesn't seem displeased. He quickly turns to go.
Kara calls after him. "Hey, does your father know you're still breathing?"
Lee looks back at Kara. His father again. Lee has almost forgotten about his father. "I'll let him know," Lee tells her and mostly means it. After all, Lee probably really should be debriefed. It will forestall later questions.
Lee leaves for the ready room. The last CAG Rip Spencer's boots will be hard to fill. Lee wants to do a good job.