Title- The Redemption of Colonel Tigh

Work In Progress

Author- PTBvisiongrrl

Part- 10?

Date- 8-26-06

Rating – R

Pairings/Characters- Lee/Kara (eventually), Tigh/Kara relationship (non-romantic!)

Word Count- 1207

Category- Short Story, for now- but let's see what everyone thinks!

Genre- Romance (eventually), Angst, Action, Drama

Archiving- The Fallout Shelter, Apollo/Starbuck Fan Fic, All others please ask!

Warnings- i.e. death, language, violence, rape, torture, etc.

Spoilers- Season 1 through the rumors of Season 3

Disclaimers- Unfortunately, I don't own any of these characters, and make absolutely no profit from taking them out to play…

Summary- Tigh comes out of the Cylon Occupation a better man, thanks to Kara Thrace.

Chapter Nine

The next week passed in near solitude in their cell, aside from infrequent visits from a non-chatty Sharon model to bring them food. There was no torture, no revelation as to Kara's "destiny," nothing. All that happened was that Kara had some time to heal. It made them more than suspicious and unsettled, until an Anders copy showed up on Day Seven with an entourage of Centurions waiting in the hallway.

Kara had been asleep, facing the back wall, but as soon as the cell door was tripped, she opened her eyes and caught Tigh's half-lidded ones as he woke up as well. Neither moved, waiting to see what was coming, but each was tensed and ready to leap directly into the fray. Long moments passed with nothing but the sound of their breathing, and Kara decided to take a chance and "wake up." She rolled over, and got the shock of her life when an Anders was sitting on the floor next to her, staring directly into her face.

"What the frak!" she swore, scrambling up like a crab and as far away from him as she could. Tigh shot up at the sound of her voice as well, crouching in a defensive position but unsure where to direct his fight.

"I didn't mean to frighten you, Kara," the Anders stated in a cool voice. "But I've come to find out your answer."

She frowned, as sleep fog slowly left her mind. "Answer?" she snapped, buying time.

"There will be a child, Kara. The question is how you want to go about it." The Anders gave her a hooded look, a look that would have warmed parts of her body necessary for bearing children before the knowledge that he was a frakkin' toaster. Now it just made her nauseous.

She hissed her answer at him. "And I told you that it will never happen."

"Is that really your answer?" Anders tried to push her buttons a bit. "Or are you just still pissed at me? Because from what I remember, making up with you was a lot of fun…"

"Don't remind me, toaster. It makes me feel sick to think of it." Kara shifted her feet under her, ready to pounce. She knew what was coming, as much as she tried to avoid thinking about it or tried to come up with a defense. In all her time in a mostly male military, she had never, at any time, felt such a personal threat as that represented by the Cylon in front of her.

It made her heart beat irregularly fast to consider it. "So how do you want to do this, Anders?' It was low but audible to Tigh, a cue for him to act. She just wasn't sure what he could do.

The Anders sighed. "Enter, Centurions!" he barked.

Tigh was up and down in record time. The first Centurion barreling through the door knocked him down and to the side; good thing, too, or the rest would have trampled him. Kara noted his disabling and steeled herself to do battle alone. The gleaming Cylons formed a half-circle around Kara and the Anders copy, who rose with a sad look on his face. "This is your decision, Kara. Remember that."

Her blood ran like ice. There was nothing, nothing she was going to be able to do to prevent this. She kept her eyes trained on Anders, with sidelong looks at the metal models surrounding them. The minutes ticked on, but there was no movement, just the sound of breathing.

Anders spoke again, in a tense voice, almost as if- almost as if he really regretted what he was about to do. "Kara, you can still change your mind. I love you. It doesn't have to be this way…" His voice trailed off, her answer apparent in her stance. "Then let's begin."

The Centurions moved forward as one, grabbing and holding her in place. One each took an arm or leg and held her immobile. Another one tried to remove the clothing from the lower half of her body; when she resisted, kicking at the thing, it had stepped back and Anders moved forward. "Stop fighting, Kara," he whispered in her ear. "Don't make this worse than it has to be."

She turned her head as if to answer him and bit part of his ear off.

His yelp of pain did not slow his reflexes. His hand was around her throat, pinning her to the wall, in seconds. The fury in his face was obvious, as was the internal struggle he was experiencing. "Be glad that you are the prophesized mother of the Messiah, you bitch, or I'd crush your windpipe here and now and end this."

The shock of her destiny revealed took the edge off the weight of his hands for a few minutes, until her vision staring blurring on the edges. When he asked her if she would cooperate yet, she feigned trying to speak so that he would let up the pressure, which he did.

Then she head butted him the minute his grip on her neck loosened.

His reaction was to smack her across the face, breaking open a new cut across a cheek, and motion another Centurion over. "Keep your hand on her throat." Looking back to Kara, he wiped a smear of very realistic blood from the cut she'd managed to give him over nose. "If you fight, he will squeeze- until I tell him to stop or you are near death. Do you understand?"

Kara did her best to nod, trying to avoid any extra contact with the Centurion's cold and lifeless hand.

"Good," Anders spat out. He reached and removed her pants and under things himself, taking his time and letting his hands stay on her much longer than necessary. Then he unbelted his own clothing and pushed it down far enough to do the job. He took the time to look her up and down, and rearrange her body to his liking. She found her face pressed up against the cold wall, and Anders pressed up against her back.

"I remember that you used to like it this way, Starbuck," he laughed throatily in her ear. "Let's see-" and he pushed his way into her unprepared body, pulling and tearing and causing immense pain. Each thrust drove her against the wall, and she couldn't even struggle with the Centurions holding her limbs and throat in place.

Only a steel will kept the tears from falling, kept his harsh treatment of her body from eliciting any sounds of pain or despair. If she could not fight back, she would at least keep back that satisfaction from him. It seemed like hours later that he jerked harder into her, gasped, and withdrew. She felt the Centurion hands disappear, and slid onto her knees against the wall. She felt her pants land nearby, brushing against her bare leg, and curled up into herself, with only the wall supporting her.

It was long minutes of empty, echoing silence before she could force her trembling hands and body to attempt to dress herself. Then she curled up in on herself again, and waited for Tigh to wake up.