Sign of Cain

A Battlestar Galactica Fanfic

By Iolana Khenemet

2006

Beta: unbetaed

A/N: it's been a while since I've written bsg and it feels both right and odd to do so

Summary: Alternate Universe. Lee served aboard the Pegasus before and after the Holocaust.

Feedback: critical comments highly welcome, mistakes, good lines, anything goes
Disclaimer: "BATTLESTAR GALACTICA" and other related entities are owned, (TM) and © by R&D TV and Sky TV in association with USA Cable Entertainment LLC. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement intended. No profit is gained by this work.

- When I return, it'll be with the shield or on it – Greek philosophy

Festivals and Bargains

The celebration of Colonial Day traditionally included a gala evening at Picon fleet headquarters. Upon entering, Cain immediately scanned the crowd for her target. There he was. Admiral Nagala shook hands, greeted, saluted and shook another pair of hands. A particularly daring young woman pecked a kiss on his cheek and from Nagala's flattered smile, Cain assumed she had whispered an invitation for a night into his ear.

"I can't understand how you can enjoy this." Warren Reck shook his head.

Helena Cain smiled amused. "Colonial Day has a lot in common with being in command of a Battlestar."

Warren pulled up an eyebrow. "Care to enlighten me?"

Cain pushed a glass of champagne into her XO's hand and steered him into the crowd. "You exchange a few words with someone of high or low importance and every now and then you meet an old friend –" She smiled and shook hands with Captain Connors.

"Or an enemy..." Warren tipped a mock salute into the direction of Commander Lemiaux, who would never see the difference to a proper salute.

"Anyway, have you arranged everything I asked for?"

"A secluded table, special food and I have also arranged things with the orchestra. You should have no problems with the Fleet Admiral."

Cain nodded. Carefully yet efficiently, as not to alert Nagala, she made her way through the crowd. He was talking to the former commander of the Pegasus, until she had taken over the legacy. Frank Fitzgerald was a decent man but Pegasus had excelled with her. Finally she was in hearing range and heard Nagala say, "But after so many years of service you know how to steer clear of any riffs."

Fitzgerald replied, "Speaking of riffs, I saw one on collision course just a few minutes ago, ready to ram you...Cain was shaking hands with the Commander of the Triton. I still wonder when she stopped using diapers."

If there had not been another large group pushing its way between Fitzgerald and Cain, she would have taught him manners right here and now. So Cain clenched her hands to fists while Nagala gave him a stern look. "She may be the youngest Commander in the written history of the Colonies but she's extraordinarily talented. Her abilities –"

"Fight on her battleground and you've already lost." Frank bitterly interrupted. "Like I lost the Pegasus to her."

"Frank..."

"Excuse me, Richard, but I don't want to meet her. We can talk later." Frank turned and disappeared into the crowd while Nagala shook his head.

Damn right you are, Cain thought. Soon the bargaining would begin and it would be o her battleground. She'd make damn sure he conceded her wishes.

When Helena caught his eye, Nagala smiled in acknowledgement but before she could reach him, he looked at her apologetically and went over to the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you're all enjoying the evening so far. I'd like to use the opportunity to open the dance."

While it was a clever strategy, his choice of women was not. Nagala went to the nearest woman he could spot and asked if she would like to open the dance. She stood with her back towards him but her curly brown hair cascaded down her back. Cain stifled a laugh when Nagala realised his mistake. Commander Abigail "Artemis" MacDunnal turned, smiled and took his arm. "The honour is mine, Admiral."

Bemused, Cain watched the two of them struggle. Artemis had a reputation of snatching the lead during a dance and this time was no exception. Nagala looked more than a bit relieved when the waltz ended.

It was time to strike. Cain snatched his hand the moment he let go of Artemis' hand. Taken aback, he had no other choice but to make the next dance with her. Cain smiled at him. The rest of the evening would follow her carefully orchestrate plan. By Midnight, probably even sooner, she would move in for the kill and get what she wanted: The first deep space mission since more than 80 years and all the personnel she wanted for it, hand-selected of course.