Battlestar Galactica 2003 is a copyright of the Sci Fi Channel. Battlestar Galactica is a trademark and copyright of Universal Studios. Ron Moore re-imagined Glen A. Larson's original idea; but then again, most people who would be reading this already know that. My use is in no way intended to challenge or infringe upon any established copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned or any other copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons, either real or fictional, is unintended.
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X – Setting a New CourseA loud, insistent knock at Lee's door woke him up, cursing the gods for hoisting upon him the responsibility of being a battlestar commander. If I don't get some frakking sleep soon, I'm gonna have a frakking psychotic break. "Come in," he shouted angrily, turning on his bedside lamp and climbing out of his bed. He was just stepping into his pants when Starbuck opened the door, unable to hide a smirk at her friend's position.
"This isn't a good time, Captain," Lee groused, thanking the gods that at least Dee wasn't in the room. The last thing he needed was to put up with Starbuck's jibes about conduct unbecoming.
"Well, you've been avoiding me for three days now," Kara replied, the heavy dose of irritation in her voice making it clear that she was game for a fight if that's what Lee was in the mood for.
"Maybe you haven't noticed, but I've been a little busy lately," Lee snapped angrily, pulling an old gray tee-shirt over his head, matting his hair down where it had been standing up at odd, comical angles. "Complain all you want about all the things you have to do, but let me tell ya – commanding a battlestar is worlds tougher than being the CAG."
"Of course," Kara said. "After all, you know everything, don't you? The high-and-mighty Lee Adama…"
"Is there something specific you came here for, Captain?" Lee asked, crossing his arms, doing his best to stare Kara down.
"I want to get an update on everything that we're planning," Starbuck said.
"And do you have any reason to suspect you've been left out of the loop?" Lee asked impatiently. "You're the CAG, Captain – you're in on everything we're planning. And if you were left out at any point, there'd be a reason for that. So if you'd just report back to your—"
"Lee!" Kara interrupted.
The impatience, irritation, and belligerence were gone from her expression, and for the life of him, Lee couldn't figure out when it happened. For the first time in the gods only knew how long, he was looking solely at Kara Thrace, without a trace of Starbuck, or the CAG, or the fleet's Top Gun, or anything else. He stood there, dumbfounded, for several moments before Kara finally continued, relieving him of the burden of finding anything resembling the appropriate words for such an unexpected situation.
"I didn't come here to fight, Lee. Please."
"Okay," he replied. In less time than it took to speak the word, Lee's expression morphed from befuddled superior officer to the long-lost friend that Kara had been hoping to find.
"I just wanted to talk," Kara said, backing against the closed door of Lee's quarters, putting as much distance between them as she could.
"You?" Lee asked with an amused grin. "You just wanted to talk? I think that's a first."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You never want to talk," Lee explained. "You always keep everything bottled up so tightly that no one ever knows what to make of you. It's not healthy."
"Oh, this coming from the guy who hasn't been open with me for months."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Lee asked.
"When exactly were you gonna get around to mentioning to me that you're frakking Dualla?" Kara asked.
"I… umm… I mean… what does it matter?"
"It doesn't," Kara lied with a shrug, wondering why it did, in fact, bother her so much. "But I used to think of you as one of the best friends I ever had. Then you keep something like that from me."
"I didn't think you'd want to hear it."
"Why not?" Kara challenged.
Because of the way we feel about each other, Lee almost said, though he bit his tongue. For years, their friendship had operated under a scant few unspoken rules. First, foremost, and perhaps solely among those rules was that neither one ever hint at awareness of the way they both felt. Not after Zak, Lee knew. She was my brother's fiancée; we can't be like that. Instead, he said, "When was the last time you ever wanted to hear about my love life?"
"When was the last time there was a love life to hear about?" Kara responded. She grinned, and the moment of awkwardness passed, replaced by the familiar routine of comfortable lies.
"And anyway," Lee added, since they'd decided to lie to each other, "I was sort of nervous about the whole thing with Dee. Between me being a flag officer now, and her being a noncom… I figured it could get very messy, very quickly. And I didn't need you reminding me."
"And I will," Kara said with a smirk.
"I know."
"She's been good for you, though," Kara admitted, hating to speak the words but feeling that maybe it was time to work some truth into the conversation. "You weren't doing so well there for a while."
"No, I wasn't," Lee agreed. "I… I was having problems, doubts. I just felt so tired, all the time. I was either planning CAP schedules, or flying a CAP of my own, or briefing the President on military matters, or sitting in on meetings with the command staff, or fighting with you… I just wanted it to end, you know?"
"I know," Kara assured him.
"And I'm not saying that I wanted to die or anything," Lee said quickly. "At least, not totally. Like I said, I wanted it to end, but I couldn't really see any way of fixing it, so sometimes I thought about dying. Not like I wanted to kill myself, but, well… I don't know that I cared if it happened."
"I understand," Kara told him. "There were even times when I was under fire from cylons, and I actually found myself wondering once or twice if the gods would hold it against me if I got killed because I didn't try as hard as I could."
"I know how that is," Lee assured her.
"And you know, I think that probably had something to do with why I got drunk and launched in that Viper," Kara added. "I mean, part of me knew that the chances of landing without smearing myself all over the deck were slim to none. I still don't know how I pulled it off. But it scared me when I sobered up. Because I don't want to die, but every day it seems less like I want to live. And the only time I've been happy since the attacks was when I was on Caprica."
"With Anders," Lee said.
"Yeah," Kara admitted, wondering at how it seemed natural to talk to Lee about Sam. "And sometimes I ask myself if it was because of him, or if it was because I was actually on firm ground again instead of living in a tin can in empty space, or if maybe it had to do with the fact that I was surrounded by people who were even more miserable than I was. But whatever it was, I was sort of happy."
"Like how I was with Dee," Lee said. "I mean, how I am. Between her and having my own command, I don't think things are as bad as they were before."
"No, now it seems like there's a light at the end of the tunnel," Kara agreed, wondering whether Roslin would actually go through with her plan to return to the Colonies. Or whether we'll actually survive such a crazy plan. "I just want to know that I'm not gonna end up fighting with you every time we speak for more than thirty seconds."
"That'd be a nice change," Lee replied with a grin.
"Truce?" Kara asked, finally stepping away from the door, crossing the room toward Lee.
"Probably a good idea," Lee said. Then Kara was in his arms, giving him a hug that was officially just friendly, but which hinted at a violation of their unspoken rules. He looked at her, just as she locked her gaze onto his, and he saw an acceptance that had never been there before. Before he even knew what he was doing, he was leaning in to kiss her. He felt Kara's body go rigid against his, though whether out of shock or fear he couldn't say. She wasn't backing off an inch, though, and Lee realized that she was actually going to let this happen. It all felt so right that he cursed himself for not noticing when the door opened without anyone knocking.
"I totally knew about the two of you."
"What the!" Starbuck said, awkwardly stumbling out of Lee's embrace to face the door. "Ares?"
"Last time I checked," the other pilot confirmed.
"Just where the hell have you been?" Starbuck asked. She remained focused on Ares, trying not to pay attention to the heat that seemed to be pouring off of her skin.
"Been busy," Ares responded. "Had some people to see, things to do. Or was it the other way around?"
"I didn't think you were coming back," Lee said, ignoring Ares' attempts at humor.
"Me either," Ares admitted. "Though it's nice to see that maybe the two of you got your heads out of your asses while I was gone."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Starbuck asked.
"Seriously, I think I speak for just about everyone when I say I wish you two would just sleep together and get it over with," Ares replied.
"What?" Lee and Kara asked simultaneously, providing the question in stereo.
"I just think a lot of people would be happier if the sexual tension was less unresolved," Ares explained. "In fact, I dare say we have a ship full of 'em."
"It's not like that," Lee objected.
"Not at all," Kara put in.
"I'm with Dee," Lee said.
"And I haven't given up on Sam," Kara explained.
"If you say so," Ares relented with a grin. "After all, what do I know? It's not like I'm a god or anything. Oh wait, that's right… I am."
"Of course," Kara laughed. "Just don't start asking for donations to your church."
"I could use the cubits," Ares said. "The benefits of tax-exempt status only go so far. But, umm… seriously, guys. I wasn't kidding."
"We're not sleeping together, Ares," Starbuck objected. "And I don't care how many people in the ship wish we would. But anyway, now that your petty attempts at distraction are out of the way, I have some questions for you." She straightened her shoulders and tried to focus on business, hoping that would help convince the butterflies in her stomach to settle the hell down.
"I bet," Ares said, taking a seat and pulling out a cigar. He bit the end off and lit it with a match that he struck against the sole of his boot, then looked up with a satisfied smile. "I've been told to explain almost anything you ask, whether I want to or not, under one condition."
"You were told to answer our questions?" Lee asked. "Told by whom?"
"Your father," Ares answered with a shrug. "I checked in with him before coming here. I mean, really, Lee – how else do you think I could've managed getting on your ship without you knowing about it?"
"Fine… what's the condition?" Lee asked.
"Everything we say in here stays here," Ares explained. "That was my condition to the admiral, and his order to you. Feel free to check in with him if you'd like."
"Your condition to the admiral?" Starbuck asked. "Who are you to set conditions to the admiral?"
"I already answered that," Ares said, "though you didn't catch my meaning. How about we just skip to the questions, huh? Where would you like to start?"
"The raid on the cylon weapons cache," Starbuck said, taking a seat, herself. "You got any more of those?" she asked, gesturing toward Ares' cigar. His smile somehow grew broader as he fished out another cigar from his hip pocket. He handed it over to Starbuck, along with another match, and she took several moments to light it, enjoying the taste almost as much as she enjoyed the fact that her almost-kiss with Lee was a comfortably fading memory. If I didn't know better, I'd say this was fresh from someone's humidor back in the Colonies, she decided. It certainly doesn't taste like any of the stale cigars I've had since the attacks. She looked up, saw that Lee was staring at her, waiting for her to get on with her questions, and turned back to Ares. "Okay, back at the raid on the cylon base, you were standing out in the open, your gun pointed at a cylon, and you ran away instead of firing."
"Uh-huh," Ares replied.
"Why?"
"Because of a pre-existing agreement," Ares said. From the look on his face, Kara guessed that Ares knew all too well how helpful his answer wasn't.
"Huh?" she responded.
"In short – that was my brother."
"What the frak are you talking about?" Starbuck asked. How could the guy have been his brother? If his brother was a cylon, but he has memories of growing up with his brother, then his memories of his brother must be false, which means he's… Starbuck was back on her feet and had her sidearm drawn and aimed at the center of Ares' head in a heartbeat. For his part, he remained perfectly still, appearing unimpressed as he puffed away on his cigar.
"I'm not a cylon," he assured her. "And neither is my brother."
"So your brother is working with the cylons?" Starbuck asked. That wasn't a piece of information that put her mind at ease.
"In a manner of speaking," Ares admitted. "This is actually a lot more complicated than I'm making it sound, and to be honest, I have absolutely no idea where to start or how to have this make any kind of sense to you."
"So there's no way to sum it up in one or two sentences?" Starbuck asked.
"Maybe," Ares said, shrugging his shoulders. "Okay, see… the guy on LV-426 was Apollo."
"He's Apollo," Starbuck said, gesturing to Lee. "Well, at least he was before he gave up a Viper for standing around looking important in Pegasus's C.I.C."
"Hey," Lee objected. "Believe it or not, the job involves more than just standing around looking important."
"No, Lee's callsign is Apollo," Ares explained, ignoring Lee's comment. "My brother is Apollo. As in, the guy Lee was named after."
It took Kara a few moments to work through what Ares was saying, and then she stood there silently, waiting for the punchline. Ares stood there staring back at her, his expression unreadable. Finally, it was Lee who broke the silence. Actually thinks
"Umm… are you okay?" Lee asked Ares. Kara was surprised to hear genuine concern in his tone. He actually thinks Ares believes that he's a God; he doesn't get that it's just some kind of joke.
"I'm fine," Are assured them. "And I'm serious."
"Uh-huh," Kara said sarcastically. "And I'm the long lost Queen of Kobol."
"You don't believe me." There was disappointment in Ares' voice, though not much surprise.
"You're not a God," Kara said.
"Definitely not," Lee agreed. "In case you forgot, I knew you back at the Academy."
"And gods can't go to flight school?" Ares asked. "You think we can just climb into a Viper and speak a few incantations to invoke the knowledge of how to fly the damn things?"
"Ares, stop," Kara snapped. "It's not funny." Ares' demeanor, his quiet confidence in his divinity, all without a shred of evidence or rationality, was starting to unnerve her.
"The doubting Kara Thrace," Ares said, shaking his head. "I suppose you'd like some proof."
"Sure," Kara replied. "You plan on granting me my greatest wish?"
"First – I'm a god, not a genie," Ares told her. "We don't go around miracling wishes out of our asses. Second, even if I could grant wishes, I wouldn't waste my powers conjuring your mother from the ether so you can finally tell her what you really think of her."
"Huh?" Kara stammered, caught completely off-guard by Ares' reply.
"No, if it's proof you want, I can give you that," he assured her.
A bitter, biting gale lashed at Kara's face, forcing her eyes shut. When she opened them again, she looked around in confusion, finding herself on open ground, definitely a terrestrial surface. The familiar confines of Galactica were nowhere to be found. She was standing in a field, the silhouettes of mountains in the distance all around her, barely visible through what felt like an early-morning mist. She heard footsteps behind her, crunching footfalls on long, frost-tipped grass. When she turned, she saw Sharon, dressed in a long white dress with gold trim.
"What are you doing here?" Kara asked.
Sharon ignored her, looking past – even through – Starbuck. Then Kara heard another set of footsteps, once again coming from behind her. She turned and saw Leoben Conoy; her hand went for her sidearm, but she only ended up grasping at empty air. She looked down and found a body that was not her own – tall, muscular, and unmistakably male, dressed in canvas breeches and a leather vest that left her muscular chest exposed. Two more people walked out of the mist, and she recognized them immediately as more cylons: Simon, the doctor from Caprica, and Shelly Godfrey, the tall blonde woman who'd come to the fleet to accuse Vice-President Baltar of treason.
"Where are the others?" Sharon finally asked.
"They're not coming," Conoy answered. "Since my dear old dad has forbidden anyone from discussing my sister's activities, they're afraid to come out here and risk getting caught. Imagine them doing their best to avoid getting a time out…"
"She has to be stopped," Sharon replied.
"What are you talking about?" Kara asked, though everyone ignored her. It was almost as if she were watching a movie. Or more accurately, it's like I've just stepped into a movie, she decided.
"Maybe everyone's overreacting," Simon said hopefully.
"No one's overreacting." It was a man's voice, and neither Leoben nor Simon had spoken. It was me, she realized. I said it. It's like this is someone's memory of something, like I'm seeing it from someone else's point of view. "Nothing short of a war is going to stop Athena at this point."
"War," Simon spat. "That's always your answer, isn't it?"
"I don't see Apollo arguing with me." No, it can't be, Kara thought, her mind arriving at an extremely uncomfortable conclusion. These are Ares' memories. I'm seeing what Ares saw sometime in the past. What the hell is going on here, and why is he talking to cylons? Where was this? Was this right before the cylon attack?
"For once, Ares is right," Conoy said. "Athena has challenged the throne, she's called out Zeus."
"This would never have happened if it wasn't for the humans," Simon groused.
"Complain about them if you want, but you seem happy enough using one for a body," Shelly responded.
"It has to be war," Leoben said. "And if Zeus doesn't see it, we'll have to open his eyes."
"Fine," Sharon shrugged. "If that's how it has to be."
Kara heard her masculine voice start to say something, but it was lost in a whirlwind of another gust of wind, again forcing her eyes shut. When she opened them again, she found herself floating over a river, neither feeling her body nor finding that fact to be at all distressing. In front of her, thousands of men were fighting with swords and shields. She could tell that there were two armies, that one greatly outnumbered the other. But from her vantage point, at least forty feet above the action, she could see that the larger army was having problems; its lines were starting to bow. At first glance, it appeared as though the center of the smaller army was breaking, but looking more closely, Kara could see that it was a ruse. The withdrawal was orderly within the chaos – the smaller army was purposely giving ground, allowing the center of the larger army an opportunity to advance more quickly than the flanks. The larger army's lines were losing shape. She looked closer and saw one of the officers in the larger army trying to point out the danger to his superior, but he was being dismissed as a relatively inexperienced soldier who'd gained his position through political influence.
The lines were losing shape more and more, and then thousands of cavalry suddenly appeared on the field, none of them in the uniform dress of the larger army. They rode forth, dividing and slamming into the flanks of the larger army, its lines now spread out in an arc that allowed it to be encircled and annihilated. She looked back toward the officer who'd seen the developing danger, watching as he fended off four attackers. He cut them all down and started crying out to his troops, trying to rally them to him and establish some semblance of order to a force that still held numerical superiority. But order had been banished by chaos, and his efforts were in vain. He tried to flee on his own, but was hit with an arrow, and then another. Two more soldiers cornered him and finally cut him down.
Kara found herself floating toward the man, poring over his wounds and feeling a sense of satisfaction. There was a cold tingling, and a flash of darkness. Then she found herself opening her eyes, seeing things from the soldier's point of view. I just crawled into the man's body, she realized. How is that even possible? She fought to her feet, practically overcome by the agonizing pain of wounds she could feel mending. Two soldiers from her army came running toward her, emerging blood-soaked from the melee around them; both of them were in their mid-thirties, possessing the bearing of veteran soldiers.
"Scipio, the battle's lost," one of them said.
"But not the war," Kara felt herself answer. "Gather together anyone who can move and sound a full retreat. We'll answer this defeat another day."
Both men saluted and ran off, and Kara felt a rush of adrenaline as she turned and looked back at the battlefield. She'd never seen such a collection of dead. With the fighting still raging on the field, tens of thousands of men in her own army lay slain, with only a few thousand of the other army spread amongst them. A terrible defeat, she thought. I can't imagine any army recovering from something like this.
The increasingly familiar wind hit her again, and this time she found herself somewhere familiar. Galactica's flight deck was buzzing with activity, the flight crews running back and forth between squads of marines. The first thing Kara noticed was that she didn't recognize anyone; a moment later, she realized that everyone was wearing outdated uniforms, like the ones she'd seen in pictures from decades earlier.
"We have boarders," one of the marines called out, his rank insignia declaring him a major. "Everyone line up. You all know the drill – they don't break through to our Viper fuel."
A thunderous explosion drowned out all else for several seconds, leaving Kara deaf, slightly numbed and disoriented by the shockwave that punched straight through her. When she gathered her senses, she found herself running full speed straight at dozens of cylon centurions, all of them identical to exhibits she'd seen at the museum in Delphi City, heavily armored but slow and awkward. They're from the First Cylon War, Kara knew. And that's where I am now – on Galactica during the first war. She raised her arms and started firing an assault rifle at the invading cylons, only to feel the whirlwind one last time.
She found herself back where she'd been hours earlier, though Lee was still standing there, looking from her to Ares.
"Kara?" he asked, waving at her to get her attention even though he was only a few feet away. "You okay?"
"Yeah…" she muttered. "You still here?"
"What do you mean?" Lee asked, clearly confused.
"It's only been a few moments from his point of view," Ares explained. "That all happened in your mind, Kara."
"What happened in her mind?" Lee asked, his voice now on edge. He almost sounded hostile, and Kara realized that this was Lee being protective. She didn't know whether to kiss him for his concern, or slug him in the jaw for thinking she couldn't take care of herself.
"I saw things," Kara said, finding herself unable to explain any of it until she had time to sort it out in her head. She turned to Ares, feeling as though she was seeing him for the first time. "You're serious, aren't you?"
"Yeah… I'm serious."
"Lee…" She found herself unable to say anything else, still wrapping her mind around the fact that Ares was a god. Finally, she managed to mutter, "Frak me."
To be continued……………………………