Rating: K
Word Count: ~1400
Summary: Battlestar Galactica AU. Captain Mako is the CAG (Commander, Air Group) on the last remaining Battlestar of the fleet. After a skirmish goes wrong, and his Top Gun Viper ace Korra is almost killed, Mako must confront his feelings for his screw-up pilot…again.
Author Note: Everyone should write a BSG AU. That is all. But honestly, it's been a while since I watched this show (I did a full rewatch last summer), so hopefully this all fits nicely.
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"You could have been killed," Mako drummed his fingers on the metal table between them.
"Yeah?" Korra tipped open the cap to her "Top Gun" stein open and chugged the rest of whatever the hell she had in there before slamming the container down on the table. The metallic smack echoed through the empty rec room. "I think the important word here was 'could,' because I just took a risk I knew would pay off."
"Knew would pay off?" His voice raised in pitch. "You had to eject during a skirmish with Cylons because you destroyed your fraking Viper. Not to mention that you're lucky you didn't lose your damn leg!"
She propped her braced knee up on an empty chair and crossed her arms behind her head. "How many kills did I get?"
"What?"
"How many kills did I get?"
Mako crossed his arms, "Four."
"What was that?" She grinned, "I couldn't hear you."
"You're reckless."
"I get the job done."
All he could do is muster a glare. Yes, Korra was a damn good pilot, but she was someone who often acted without thinking through the possible consequences first. She jumped into combat with her eyes closed and assumed that her fighter's instinct and training would always get her out alive, back to fight another day in her Viper.
He knew Korra knew better though. Every time she got the news that another one of their pilots had been lost, her eyes lost a bit more energy and shine, even as she griped about how thy were stupid to try a risky move or go off on their own. She would pull out a cigarette on those occasions to try to quell the shaking in her hands, still clothed in her flight suit, before anyone noticed any weakness.
But he always noticed.
She'd take whatever picture she had of the pilot and post in the Memorial Hallway of her own initiative.
"For how long?" Mako sighed. "How long is that going to work for you?"
"As long as it has to."
"And when is that?"
Korra shrugged, "When the fleet finds somewhere to settle and pilots aren't needed anymore."
He looked at her closely. Her hexagonal dog tags hung loosely around her neck over her black and gray double tank top. His eyes were drawn to the tattoo on her bicep that wrapped around in a band with long triangles of blue against her tan skin. The bags under her eyes betrayed her exhaustion. Yet, she was as beautiful as the day Bolin dragged her by the hand up to met him, ever so eager to introduce his fiancée to his big brother.
"And what happens if you die first?"
A small smile graced her lips, "Then I did my job as long as I lasted. And you can bet that I was probably the damn best in that time."
"Are you really going to make me go through that again?" He frowned and crossed his arms.
"What are you talking about?"
Mako gave her a hard look.
She let out a strangled breath, "…You're thinking about Bolin, aren't you?"
It had been years since his brother passed away after passing his basic flight exam, and just as long since a certain flight instructor passed his younger brother despite failing three critical maneuvers at the end of the test. And years since that certain flight instructor had been engaged to marry his brother.
"You already know that was my fault," her head fell back. "I really don't need a reminder that I pretty much killed the guy I was going to marry today."
He couldn't help but feel bad for evening bringing it up.
"So if you want to throw more punches at me," she spread her arms widely, "go ahead. I know you well enough to know that I won't get the real issues out of you if you don't want to share."
"I just don't want to lose you…" the words dribbled from Mako's lips before he could think to stop.
"Really?" Korra laughed harshly, crossing her arms. "It seems like to me you'd have a hell of an easier time keeping your little corner of the ship running if I wasn't around. Maybe if I just stopped surviving somehow."
She caused trouble. But that was never really something out of the ordinary for her. And despite all her trials, she survived and lived to fight another day. He knew the handful of times she ha been injured, she pushed through it. She even survived her captivity in the New Republic City. She still never talked about the surely tortuous ordeal she went through, and he was sure that she never would.
"You know I…" he had to watch his words carefully, "care about you."
"Because that works out well."
Finally, the quips and cold sarcasm cracked the front he managed to pull up. Korra always knew how to get to him. She knew exactly where to poke and prod to find gaps and weak spots in his armor.
"You know exactly how I feel," Mako's words had a harsh edge to them. "I'm married—"
Korra smirked, "So am I. Didn't stop us before."
Over the years they had shared a number of stolen kisses, usually prompted by a burst of emotion. But Korra would be hot one moment and cold the next. They shared an evening together, celebrating the not yet failed colonization of New Republic City, when they promised to move forward together. When he woke up the next morning, she married another man.
She was always someone who was afraid of her feelings. Korra preferred action to thought after all. But in relationship situations, it she always chose flight over fight.
Then there was the affair. They both knew it was wrong, and the infidelity ate at him from the inside out. Even worse, both of their spouses could sense the tension and had a pretty good idea of what was transpiring.
"But I guess it did stop us eventually," she shrugged, but he could tell she was feigning nonchalance. "You went back to Asami…probably the right choice in the end."
"You know we're separated, right?"
"I figured. Everyone knows I'm in the same boat. Apparently everyone knows my business."
Korra was unpredictable. She was change that pushed and cracked the solid bedrock foundation he had built his life from. As hard as they tried to make it work, circumstance seemed to be deadest against any sort of harmonious union between them. Mako couldn't help but entertain the thought that if things were different, they could make it work.
"Maybe…" he decided not to be afraid of his own thoughts, "…someday we could make it work."
She bit back a harsh laugh, "It would have to be really different. No fleet. No pilots. No military. Maybe. Maybe then."
"Well, that's the dream isn't it?"
"Sure, we can go with that," Korra struggled to her feet and grabbed the cane propped up against the table. "I guess since I can't fly, so I don't have to meet the morning briefing. See you around, Cool Guy."
He watched her limp out of the rec room, her stupid Top Gun stein in hand. "You're still a mystery to me, you know that?"
She grinned over her shoulder as she turned the corner.
Korra was a mystery that kept him coming back.
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Author Note: Hope you enjoyed! I wasn't exactly sure who to make the Anders of the fic, so I tried to avoid it. If you're a BSG 2003 fan, I'm pretty sure I messed up the timeline here, but it was supposed to be a loose AU anyway.
