CHAPTER 21

JUST ONE OF THOSE DAYS

"Oh, I'm good! I am really good."

Kara Thrace laughed out loud as she peered through the Raider's viewport. Caprica was beneath her, the surface obscured by thick layers of brooding clouds. Brown had replaced blue and white as the predominant color, a testament to the enormous volume of dust and dirt that had been hurled into the upper atmosphere by the many nuclear strikes on the planet's surface.

"But this technology is better."

Starbuck was frankly awed by the Raider's performance. Her new toy had made it to Caprica in one jump. It would have taken one of their Raptors dozens of jumps to make the same trip.

"I'm home," she chortled, "I'm home."

Kara initiated her descent into the atmosphere, passing at one point within spitting distance of a gigantic cylon baseship. There were dozens of Raiders in space all around her, but she was left undisturbed. Starbuck did not level off until her Raider was practically skimming the planetary surface, which put her well below the deck for cylon DRADIS. With no navigational aids in play, it took her a while to locate Delphi, but eventually she found herself overflying the city that, only a few months earlier, the ace pilot had called home. My apartment's down there somewhere … my stuff. Maybe next trip.

Starbuck parked the Raider on the plaza in front of the museum, and grabbed her med kit on the way out. She was in no particular hurry, and the atmosphere's unnatural yellowish tint gave her plenty to think about. Getting a dose of anti-radiation meds into her system was the obvious first order of business.

The museum was deserted, and many of the displays had been reduced to rubble. Kara couldn't tell whether the bombs were to blame, or Cylon zealotry. The machines struck her as perfectly capable of desecrating temples in the name of their One True God, and museums that housed holy relics would have been an equally logical target for their monotheistic wrath. Thus the pilot was immensely relieved to discover that the case which contained the fabled arrow of Apollo was still intact. It didn't remain that way for long. Starbuck blew out the glass with one shot, and reached for the arrow. She examined it curiously.

"Pretty, isn't it?"

Kara whirled, gun in hand, only to be savagely punched in the face by one of the blond Sixes. Starbuck grimaced, but it was her own stupidity that she cursed. The pilot had been careless; she had assumed that she had the museum to herself, and for that reason had not bothered to check the perimeter. That mistake, she thought, might now cost her dearly.

. . .

Galen Tyrol knew a grade A cluster frak when he saw one, and this was a grade A cluster frak. Seven of them had made it out of the downed Raptor alive, but they weren't going to stay that way for long if Crashdown didn't get his head out of his ass. The chief suspected that surviving on a mythical planet while several hundred cylon Raiders buzzed about like angry bees wasn't part of the curriculum at Colonial Fleet Academy, but he was also pretty sure that the instructors would have covered evacuating a hot LZ. Alas, Crashdown appeared to have missed that lecture. Being the son of a priest, Galen knew that the gods would exact a price in blood for any return to Kobol, but he didn't want to make it easy for them. And Lieutenant Alex frakking Quartararo was doing exactly that!

The chief decided to confront the young officer, and give him a little nudge in the right direction.

"Lieutenant, shouldn't we be moving out? Do you have a plan for tactical deployment?"

"A plan for tactical deployment, Chief?" Crashdown was playing with one of their medical instruments; it was clear that he hadn't given the matter any thought. "Get to the high ground. It'll be our best chance of being seen by a search party."

Galen rolled his eyes. "Uh … Sir … high ground is also our best chance of being seen by the Cylons. They're flying around, Sir. They might land troops before we get rescued."

"That's true," Crashdown nodded.

"Sir, if I may suggest that we take cover on the ground … maybe somewhere we won't be spotted from the air?"

"Okay … yeah, Chief, that's … carry on, Chief." The lieutenant stumbled off to check their supplies, leaving an extremely frustrated chief petty officer in his wake.

Officers! Galen let out a long stream of curses under his breath. They had lost one Raptor within seconds of coming out of the jump, and now their own bird was so much scrap. He wondered how long it would be before Crashdown treated them to one of the Academy's much derided five point operational plans. Kobol or no Kobol, they were frakked. Losing one Raptor to a baseship that had jumped into orbit within a few hours of Boomer and Crashdown discovering the planet was just bad luck, but from here on out it was going to be human error all the way. In retrospect, Galen Tyrol admitted to himself, it seemed obvious how the Cylons had been able to catch Colonial Fleet with their collective pants down. The Cylons didn't have the Alex Quartararos of this universe running the show.

. . .

"Home? Do you mean 'home' as in the Colony?"

"Natalie, must you always take things quite so literally?" Leoben didn't understand this aspect of the Cylon personality. Humans considered his kind to be devious, but Leoben thought them singularly lacking in imagination. Natalie reminded him of a computer—all ones and zeroes.

"I'm sorry, Leoben. We are at war, and I just haven't had much time to spare for communing with the hybrid. So I hope that you'll pardon my inability to detect when you are engaging in euphemisms and metaphor. I know that I'm taxing your patience, but I would be grateful if you would actually tell me where we're going … you know … in simple enough terms that a dumb machine like me will understand them!" Natalie's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Natalie, haven't you read the sacred scrolls … studied the prophecies? The hybrid could not have spoken more clearly; the children will guide us along the path to our appointed end, to Earth. John is one of the children; that is why he is so important to the centurions and the hybrid."

"So Earth is home? Is that where it's taking us?"

"Not directly, no. But it is where our journey ends."

Natalie glared suspiciously at her brother. "Two, all I want to know right now is where we'll be at the end of this series of jumps. Do you know, or don't you?"

Leoben looked sheepishly at his sister, and shook his head. "Sorry, but I have no idea whatsoever."

Natalie took a deep breath and held it. "Well, do you think that you could get its attention? Ask it to get DRADIS up and running? Maybe supply a little data … so that we'll have some idea of where we are and who's out there!"

Leoben chose to ignore this temperamental outburst. He did not remember Natalie being this cynical or this impatient: perhaps she was sleeping with one of the Cavils. He turned away, and knelt by the side of the hybrid's tank. He could hear Natalie's high heels receding into the distance as she departed the chamber and made the long walk back to the control room.

. . .

"Unbelievable. She's crossed the line before, but this is so far beyond the pale." Colonel Tigh knew that Starbuck was the Old Man's pet, but the XO was convinced that, this time, Bill wouldn't let it slide.

"She wouldn't have done this on her own," Adama countered. "She was coerced."

"No one coerces Starbuck. Believe me … I've tried!"

"Excuse me, Commander, but I have the president on the line."

"Dee, patch her through. Saul, bear witness. Put on your headset."

Adama picked up the telephone. "Madame President, moments ago Lieutenant Thrace took the Cylon Raider on an unscheduled and unauthorized jump. Do you have any knowledge of this incident?"

"Let's save some time here, Commander." Roslin's voice was cold. "The question you really want to ask me is whether or not I asked Lieutenant Thrace to take the Raider to Caprica. The answer to your question is: yes."

"We talked about this."

"Yes, we did."

"We both decided that it was a military decision."

Gods, but the military can be so thick at times! Roslin decided to try her best classroom voice. "My responsibility as president is first and foremost to protect and preserve this fleet and its future. In the end, that outweighs any other consideration. It has to."

"By taking the Raider, you've placed our people on the surface of Kobol in direct danger." Adama had arrived at the moment of truth. "Madame President, I'm going to have to ask you for your resignation."

"No."

"Then I'm terminating your presidency as of this moment." The commander ended the call by hanging up on Laura Roslin.

Adama turned to Tigh. "Colonel, prepare a strike team. As long as she's president, she's dangerous. If she can turn Starbuck against us, she's capable of anything."

"Yes, Sir."

Adama looked hard at his oldest and most trusted friend. "She's bluffing, Saul."

"Bill, let's hope so. Otherwise, this could spin out of control very quickly."

. . .

"Six, we have DRADIS back." A Five at one of the secondary data ports was sampling the suddenly resurgent data stream. "We are in planetary orbit, and there are two other baseships out there. It's Caprica."

"Caprica?" Natalie shook her head in frustration. "This is the path that will lead us home?" It was a rhetorical question, but Natalie had forgotten that Cylons had little awareness of rhetorical questions—and Aaron Doral none at all.

"No, Six," the immaculately clad Five responded. "The Colony is not even in this sector of the galaxy." He paused to brush an imaginary piece of lint off of his impeccably tailored burgundy jacket.

How did we ever win this war? This was Natalie's favorite question; on average, she reckoned that she posed it about ten times a day. I have to share this ship with nihilist nags, soothsayers, wooden sticks, and concrete blocks … and that's just the males. On the other side we have religious fanatics, blond beauty queens, and the 'be fruitful and multiply crowd'. The centurions are in open revolt, the hybrid has adopted what Leoben insists is a child although he looks about thirty-five to me, and we're forced to play host to a bunch of human females. By this time tomorrow they'll be exchanging beauty tips with every Six on the ship. God, forgive me for taking your name in vain, but there really are days when I wonder about your sense of humor! Are Cylons the butt of some obscure joke?

Natalie reluctantly came to the decision that it was time for another chat with Leoben, which in turn meant another trip to the hybrid's chamber. She fervently hoped that sooner or later the hybrid would get around to telling them just what the frak they were doing in orbit above Caprica.

. . .

"Bill, do you know what John would say if he were here?"

"Something along the lines of I'm having a really bad day?"

Shelly smiled at Bill and caressed his cheek. "Yes … it would be something along those lines." The affection in her eyes warmed Bill Adama's heart. They were alone in the War Room, she was about to call his command decisions into question, and he didn't mind in the slightest.

"Commander," Shelly said with the slightest touch of firmness in her tone, "the president made a bad decision, but a military coup is hardly an appropriate response. It's overkill … so much so that much of the civilian populace will probably conclude that you've been looking for an excuse to bring down the government all along. And if there's any shooting on Colonial One the damage may prove irreparable."

"Shelly, the last thing on Caprica that I want to do is bring down the government. There's simply not enough time in the day for me to exercise both military and civilian control of the fleet. And do you think that I'm keen to see Gaius Baltar in the presidency? The thought of having to deal with that slimy son of a bitch every day gives me heartburn! But I can't let Roslin get away with this because doing so only guarantees that they'll be a next time. She craves power, Shelly, and she'll just keeping testing my patience."

"Okay … but will you at least agree to send Apollo along to babysit Colonel Tigh … and handpick the Marine strike force? Roslin has armed bodyguards; cool, calm, and collected really needs to be the order of the day!"

"Agreed … and I really like your lipstick. This shade looks terrific on you … and it tastes good." Bill had long ago discovered that the best part of fighting with the person you loved was the aftermath.

Shelly put her hand on Adama's chest. Her cylon strength was more than sufficient to hold the commander at least temporarily at bay.

"Bill, we're not done yet! At least give me a chance to talk you out of this attack on the baseship."

Adama groaned; this was not what he wanted to hear. "Okay … tell me what I'm doing wrong."

"Tactically, nothing. Your plan is simple and clean, so it should go off without a hitch. But I don't see how it gets our people off Kobol. Bill, there will be somewhere between three and four hundred Raiders deployed; your nuke won't eliminate them. You know as well as I do that Raiders are jump capable; one or more will jump out and report to the nearest baseship in the sector. Simultaneously, the Cylons whom you nuke will start downloading on the nearest resurrection ship. They will summon other baseships to Kobol. About the time that you are fully committed to a rescue operation, we'll be up to our ears in baseships!"

All good points, Bill mentally conceded. "So what would you do differently?"

"I'd jump two Raptors into the lower atmosphere on the opposite side of the planet from the baseship. Give them time to work their way around to the general area of the crash site and pin it down. Keep them below cylon DRADIS at all times. Try and get in and out before the Cylons know that we're there. Nuke the baseship if you must, but do it at the end, when we have the most to gain from the distraction."

A broad grin lit up the commander's face. "Shelly, I think that I'll take the day off and let you run the entire operation. You're really good at this," he said admiringly. "We'll do it your way."

"Then please pull Sharon off this mission! Bill, I'm telling you, she's not ready for this. She's still trying to work through her feelings, and asking her to nuke a baseship full of her siblings isn't going to help."

Bill turned serious. "I'm sorry, Shelly, but Boomer has to go. We need a Cylon on board in case there's a verbal challenge, and Sharon is the only Cylon qualified to pilot a Raptor. Besides, I disagree. Boomer will come out of this knowing that I have no doubts about her loyalty—and just as importantly, everybody on this ship who still does harbor doubts will be forced to jettison them. Sharon will benefit both ways."

"Bill, I sincerely hope you're right … but in my heart I know that this is a bad call."

. . .

"Leoben, I thought you'd like to know that we're now in geosynchronous orbit above Caprica. Has the hybrid condescended to tell you what exactly it is that we're supposed to be doing here?"

"Natalie, this is becoming tiresome. You know as well as I do that the hybrid doesn't tell us to walk twenty paces north and start digging where X marks the spot. It doesn't work that way. She speaks to us in her own language and at a time of her own choosing. It is our burden to understand her."

"And have you been able to decipher any of its pronouncements?"

"Yes, I have learned much. We have reached the 'distant shores', and will soon do that which we must do in order to continue the journey. It involves glass, but I do not yet understand the allusion."

At the mention of the word 'glass', the hybrid snapped to attention.

"The slings and arrows of misfortune lead them to their appointed end! The tomb robber gazes upon the starry night. She plunges into the cauldron to emerge broken and unbroken, whole and incomplete, the knowledge gained both right and wrong, the knowledge lost both wrong and right, spawning life eternal for all that is and will be!"

Leoben replayed the words, listening to the melody in his mind. To hear all the notes at once was the key to grasping their meaning. Cylons failed to understand the hybrids because they heard the parts but not the whole.

Leoben's eyes opened wide in amazement.

"Natalie, where are we in relation to Caprica? What exactly is beneath us?"

"Delphi."

Delphi! Of course! "Six, please find Thalia, and prepare a Heavy Raider. The two of us are going to the surface."

"So you do know what this is about?"

"Yes, sister, I know precisely what to do!"

"I'm glad, brother, because you've really started to worry me."

"Worry you? How?"

"You may not realize it, but you have begun to refer to the hybrid as 'she'."

"Natalie, what else would she be?" Sometimes, Leoben thought, his sisters could be so puzzling.

. . .

"Boomer, I have a very special mission for you, and I won't kid around. It's high risk … extremely high risk."

Adama studied his Cylon daughter closely. Shelly was right. Sharon was haggard and pale—and her face had the haunted look of a person who had not slept properly in weeks. The more he thought about this mission, the more worried he became.

"I understand."

"I need you to light-jump to Kobol and take care of this baseship. We're placing a cylon transponder aboard your Raptor. In theory, it should allow you to approach the baseship without getting fired upon, but I want you to carry out this assignment on the off chance that the Cylons challenge the pilot over the wireless. Once you're inside the defense perimeter, I need you to make them think that you want to dock. You have to fire your nuke into the loading bay, and then jump back home immediately. Do you understand?"

"I understand. I can do it, sir."

"Sharon." Adama's eyes were glistening. "I just want you to know that, no matter how this day goes, I love you. You are the daughter that I always wanted to have, and no father has ever been more proud of his little girl than I am of you. I may not be religious, but I still offer silent thanks to the gods every day for bringing you to me."

The human and the Cylon hugged for a long time. There was little more for either one to say.

. . .

"Hello, Lieutenant. Something I can help you with?"

Starbuck fired off five shots in rapid succession, but the Six was fast on her feet—incredibly fast. Kara shattered display cases and murdered statues, but she didn't come close to hitting the blond Cylon.

"Welcome back to Caprica, Lieutenant. Like what we've done with the place?" The Six was taunting her opponent, her voice coming from everywhere and nowhere.

"Yeah, it's great … and I love the interior decorating. Hey, Six, let me ask you a question. My three closest friends are Cylons … and two of them are your sisters. What is it that makes you such a bitch? Are you having your period?" At least when it came to verbal sparring, Starbuck could still hold her own.

The thoroughly infuriated Six suddenly materialized in front of her. Before Kara could react, the Cylon had delivered a beautifully timed kick to her ribs, which was followed by a flurry of punches to the head. Starbuck fought back, but the only thing her well placed blows to the machine's abdomen and jaw accomplished was to make her angrier still. The Six kicked the pilot squarely in the stomach and caught her with a glancing blow to the cheek before pulling her up by the hair and bouncing her head off one of the nearby statues.

"Come on, Starbuck, you can do better than this!" Another round of punches sent Kara flying across the room.

"Got anything left?" The Six slowly and contemptuously advanced on her bruised and battered enemy, savoring the moment. She picked Kara Thrace up, only to knock her down again with another combination of blows to the face. Two last kicks caught the defenseless pilot in the ribs and jaw, effectively bringing the fight to an end. The Six walked over and picked up the arrow, which she had torn from Starbuck's grasp at some point during their struggle. She examined it curiously.

The Six never saw Helo and Sharon advancing upon her from the rear, but out of the corner of her eye she did see the blond whirlwind that attacked her without warning from the right. She got a good look at her new adversary, and was so stunned that she froze in place. As she flew across the open ledge and dropped toward the floor below, the face that loomed over her was her own.

. . .

Boomer and Racetrack completed their jump, to find Kobol beneath them and the outline of the huge cylon baseship dominating the void beyond their canopy. Boomer instantly corrected their course to put them on a trajectory that would bring them inside the baseship's defense perimeter.

"You think this thing is working?" Racetrack was referring to the cylon transponder, which was monotonously beeping above her head.

Sharon looked out the canopy, and saw a flight of cylon raiders approaching them on an intercept course.

"We're about to find out," she replied.

Moments later, as the Raiders continued to fly past, Boomer let out a deep sigh of relief.

"I guess so … yeah."

Boomer maneuvered her bird deep into the gap between two of the baseship's protruding arms, her eyes roaming across the ship's vast exterior, looking for a landing bay. She quickly found an opening, and tweaked her thrusters just enough to give her Raptor the optimal firing solution.

"Okay, Margaret, we're good to go. Launch the nuke and prepare to jump."

"Frak!"

"What?"

"The bomb release is jammed!" Racetrack tried the switch several times, but the warning light on her console signaling a malfunction continued to blink on and off. "I can't free it!"

Sharon rapidly reviewed their options, and instantly decided that they would just have to make it up as they went along.

"Okay, okay … we can dock inside the ship."

"Excuse me?" Margaret Edmondson wasn't quite sure that she had heard Boomer correctly.

"They think we're Cylons, so they'll let us dock. We can release the bomb manually and drop the nuke inside the ship. It'll work … I know it will."

"Oh, my gods," Racetrack cried; "we are so frakked!"

. . .

Laura Roslin's four bodyguards readied their weapons and stepped forward; behind them, Elosha was offering a prayer on behalf of the dense crowd of advisors, journalists, and ship's crew that surrounded the president.

"Lords of Kobol, hear our prayer. Bring us out of the darkness and into the light. Give us the strength to show mercy to those who are merciless …"

The telephone rang. Billy Keikeya picked up the receiver, listened for a second or two, and then hung up. He caught the president's eye.

"Madame President," he whispered urgently, "they've cut through the hull. They'll be here in a matter of minutes."

"… redeem our hearts that they may find peace in the midst of war."

Saul Tigh could hear the last refrain of Elosha's prayer as he advanced on the president's office. Six marines preceded him into the political heart of Colonial One; Apollo brought up the rear.

Tigh definitely didn't like what he was seeing. Four bodyguards with weapons drawn, bodies packed tight behind them. If someone started shooting, the body count would stack up fast.

"Madame President, no one needs to get hurt here."

"Then why don't you get off my ship, Colonel?"

"I'm placing you under arrest."

Apollo watched the drama playing out in front of him, the once still voice of his conscience now insistently screaming at him.

"No, we're not doing this."

Roslin and the XO, both equally puzzled, glanced at Apollo.

"I'm in command here, Captain."

"Colonel, this is wrong."

"You're relieved," Tigh gruffly said; "fall back."

Instead, Lee Adama pulled out his gun and pointed it directly at Saul Tigh's head. "Men, lay down your weapons." The marines ignored him, but the gun certainly got the XO's attention.

"Have you lost your frakking mind?"

"Colonel, tell these marines to fall back."

"This is mutiny, you know that."

"Yes, I do. But you can tell my father I'm listening to my instincts. And my instincts tell me that we cannot sacrifice our democracy just because the president makes a bad call."

Tigh snorted with derision. He had heard enough. "Private Wentzler?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I am going to count to five. If Captain Adama has not laid down his weapon by the time I am finished, or if he shoots me in the interim, your orders are to shoot him in the head. You will then take whatever measures are required to place Laura Roslin under arrest. If your squad meets with any resistance, you are authorized to defend yourselves with deadly force. Are my orders clear?"

"As crystal, Sir!" Wentzler shoved the barrel of his automatic weapon into Apollo's ear. The marines hated the sanctimonious captain every bit as much as they hated Tigh. The whole squad understood that they had just hit the jackpot.

"One …"

"Two …"

"Three …"

. . .

On the way down to the surface, Leoben told Thalia about the arrow of Apollo and the tomb of Athena. He carefully explained that, while the tomb was said to contain information about the location of Earth, no one knew what that actually meant.

"Brother, if the arrow is as important as you say, wouldn't the collective already have taken possession of it?"

"Thalia, you would think so … but I can't think of any other reason for John to have brought us here, and he would hardly have done so if the arrow was gone."

"Maybe he doesn't know."

Leoben smiled. "He knows everything that the hybrid knows, and probably a great deal more. No. The arrow will be there … I'm sure of it."

"Earth … a new home … a fresh start." There was longing in Thalia's voice. Then she had a new thought. "Leoben, I'm sorry, but it sounds too easy. Are you sure that there isn't a test we have to pass? Possibly … some kind of password?"

"Sister, I've wondered about that too. I think John could open the tomb and uncover the secret, but there's only one other person of whom I'm similarly confident, and that's Kara Thrace."

"The human pilot? The one they call Starbuck? What's so special about her?"

"Thalia, did you ever study the prophecies? John is the First Born, the Child of Three." Leoben looked carefully at his sister, and his voice dropped to a mere whisper. "And Kara is the Second Born, the daughter of Six."

"Excuse me?" Thalia wasn't quite sure that she had heard Leoben correctly.

"She's your daughter, Thalia. In fact, she looks a lot like you. Not as tall, but just as blond!"

Leoben landed the Heavy Raider in the parking lot to the rear of the museum. He would have landed in the plaza out front, but there was a Raider already parked there, and that worried them both.

Leoben and Thalia entered the museum cautiously, but they had not proceeded far when they heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire. They picked up their pace, and then Leoben abruptly stopped dead in his tracks. He had caught a glimpse of the two combatants.

"Kara?"

Thalia stopped and stared at her brother, and then she tensed. Our daughter is in trouble … she's going to kill her!

Thalia sprinted across the intervening distance; she didn't care how much noise she made as her feet found purchase in the rubble. The other Six turned, and her eyes went wide. Thalia hit her in full stride and they both flew through the air, to crash into shards of broken glass and other debris on the landing below. The Six's spine snapped with a satisfying crack; Thalia didn't even have to look to know that she was dead. She tried to roll off the corpse, but something was pinning her down. She found that she couldn't move.

Leoben ran to Starbuck's side. She hadn't moved in several seconds, and that scared him. He knew that a Six was very strong, and he feared the worst.

"Kara? It's Leoben. Kara … can you hear me?"

Starbuck groaned, and then she slowly rolled over. Her eyes went wide with disbelief.

"Leoben? What the frak are you doing here?"

The Cylon grinned at the Second Born. "Probably the same thing you are! You okay?"

"Yeah, thank you."

"Starbuck?"

"Helo? Helo … oh, my gods!"

The two jocks embraced, and then Helo spotted Leoben. He immediately went for his gun.

"Helo, no! Put your gun down. He's with me, all right? He's with me!"

"Starbuck, he's a Cylon. He's a Cylon!"

"I know, Helo, I know. But it's all right … he's with me." That prompted Kara to turn around and address the Two. "You are with me, aren't you Leoben? I mean, I guess I should go through the formality of asking."

The Cylon just grinned. It was answer enough.

The two pilots embraced a second time.

"Gods, Starbuck, I can't believe it. You are like the last person I expected to see!"

Starbuck laughed. "I could say the same thing about you," she said affectionately. And then she saw Sharon.

"Say, Helo … speaking of Cylons … did you know that your playmate isn't Boomer? She's a Cylon, Helo … an Eight … just some cheap, knock-off copy."

Sharon bristled at Kara's tone. "I'm not a copy. I'm Sharon! I remember the first day I met you, Starbuck. You were puking your guts out in the head because you'd eaten bad oysters … or at least that was your excuse of the day." Sharon stared resentfully at the pilot.

"Don't do that." Starbuck was sorely tempted to take out her gun and shoot the Eight on the spot, but she didn't want to give Karl any ideas.

"Hey!" Helo sensed a catfight in the making, and he wanted to stop the bleeding before it got started.

"I don't like it, Sharon, and I don't like you. So the best thing you can do is just keep your damned mouth shut." Starbuck was glaring at the Eight, itching for another fight.

"Hey, Starbuck … lay off, will you? She's pregnant."

"Pregnant?" Leoben had been silently watching the entire three way exchange, but the word 'pregnant' was bound to make any Cylon sit up and take notice. "Eight, are you sure?"

Sharon never got to answer.

"Leoben?"

"Thalia. God, please don't let her be hurt!" He looked at the others. "Do any of you have a medical kit?"

"We do," Sharon replied.

"Bring it. Kara, you need to come with me." Leoben raced down the closest stairs and ran to Thalia's side. Starbuck was right behind.

Thalia was still lying on top of the dead Six. She hadn't moved.

"Kara, help me lift her. Gently!" Sharon ran up with the med kit, Helo trailing behind.

Kara and Leoben lifted Thalia, and then laid her gently on her back. A wicked shard of broken glass was protruding from the Six's corpse—and it had left a deep wound in Thalia's upper abdomen.

"Kara." Thalia lifted her hand, and trailed it along Starbuck's cheek. Despite the pain that she had to be feeling, the others saw a look of indescribable joy wash across her features. "Our child…. Our beautiful, beautiful daughter … Kara."

Helo gaped, and emitted a strangled sound, but Kara and Sharon both turned to stare at Leoben. The beatific expression on his face said far more than mere words.

Somewhere deep inside Kara Thrace's heart a door opened. She walked through, heard the door close behind her, and knew that her life would never be the same. Kara clasped Thalia's hand.

"You saved my life," she whispered, "thank you."

"Kara." And then Thalia's head rolled to the side, and Kara Thrace knew that she was holding nothing—nothing at all.

Kara reached out to close Thalia's eyes, as lovingly as she could. "Thank you," she whispered again, her eyes wet with tears.