Chapter Twenty Eight
My daughter. Those two words explained so much to Zak, and his heart ached for Emma. He tightened his arm around her shoulders.
He heard Emma take a deep breath, struggling against the tears. "Today…today would have been her eighth birthday."
Would have been. No need to ask what had happened to her. Exactly what had happened to Zak's mother and the rest of Emma's family.
"What was her name?" he asked, trying to give her an opening to talk, if that was what she wanted.
"Vanessa."
"That's a pretty name."
"I got it out of a book I read as a child."
"The Five Portents," said Zak, and she looked at him in surprise, eyes red and swollen. "It was one of my favourites too." He looked down again at the photo. "Eight years old. You must have been very young when she was born."
"Nineteen." Emma's voice still sounded shaky. "I was a student still."
A piece fell into place for Zak suddenly. "So that was why you never finished training to be a doctor."
"Yes. I made a mistake, just like the ignorant Geminese girl I was trying to pretend I wasn't." Emma stroked a finger over the photo, face twisting. "Though once I had her I could never see it as a mistake."
"No. I can see that." Zak didn't want to pry, but he thought it might help her to talk about it. Her outburst in the corridor had worried him, and it couldn't be healthy for her to bottle it all up like this. "What about her father?"
"He was another student. He didn't want to know, offered to pay for me to get rid of her. But I couldn't." Emma laughed jerkily. "I'm too Geminese for that. So I went home instead. Back to my parents."
"That must have been hard." Zak had had several Geminese friends at fleet academy, and knew enough about their traditions to know that it was one of the few places in the Colonies where unmarried pregnancy was still frowned upon. Even the most liberal of Geminese parents would not have been pleased. "Did they – turn you away?"
"Oh no, they would never have done that. They let me stay. But – after Vanessa was born, I realised that they didn't want me to keep her. They had assumed I would have her adopted, even started making arrangements."
"But you didn't want to do that."
"No." Emma's face set stubbornly. "I couldn't. I wanted to bring her up myself. But they wouldn't hear of it, and we argued – and in the end I left. And I never saw them again, as things turned out." Her face crumpled slightly. "I wish now I had got back in touch. Hadn't left things like that."
"You couldn't have known. None of us knew." Zak thought of his own mother, dying without knowing Lee was still alive, and tightened his arm around her. He shook the memory away. "So you brought Vanessa up on your own?"
"Yes. I moved back to Caprica, got a job waitressing. But it barely made enough money to pay for the childcare. I tried to get something else, but I had no qualifications, no experience – except in one thing."
"Flying."
"Yes. So I got a job as a cargo pilot. It was just short trips around Caprica, so I was never away for more than a week, and I paid a woman to look after Vanessa while I was gone."
"So when did you start on inter-planetary runs?"
"When Vanessa was three. I was barely making enough to cover the bills, and inter-planet paid so much better, and I – I didn't want her to have to make do, to scrape by. I wanted more than that for her."
"Of course you did," he said reassuringly. He could hear the guilt in her voice. "Every parent does."
"I hated to leave her, but I came back to Caprica between every trip." It sounded like a well-rehearsed argument. "I wrote to her every week-" she broke off, burying her face in her hands. "Oh, what does it matter? It wasn't enough. I should have had her with me, but-"
"But you didn't want her to grow up like you did," said Zak, suddenly understanding. He remembered the conversation they'd had about her childhood weeks before, how she'd felt she missed out.
"Yes. I wanted her to grow up in one place, go to school, have friends – not move from place to place, never feeling she belonged anywhere. I wanted her to grow up in the sun, play on the grass, not in metal corridors and cold space." Emma's voice broke. "But – at least she'd have been alive."
"Emma-"
"I should have kept her with me. Then she would have been safe, she'd still be with me."
"Emma, don't." She was crying again now, and Zak pulled her fully into his arms, trying to soothe her. She resisted for a moment, but he held firm, and suddenly the tension went out of her and her head fell against his shoulder. "You can't blame yourself. You couldn't have known." He could feel her struggling against the tears and he stroked her hair soothingly. "Don't fight it, Emma. Let it all come out. You'll feel better."
She let go then, and he held her while she cried, and patted her back, and wondered if this was the first time since it happened that she had let herself cry. He thought that maybe it was. She had probably felt she had too many duties and responsibilities to give in to her grief, maybe felt too guilty to mourn properly.
He couldn't help but admit that a tiny part of him was relieved to see her like this, much though it shamed him. She'd always seemed so calm, so efficient, so sensible – it was reassuring to see that she was human after all, that she had her weaknesses and her demons just like everybody else. And it touched him that she had let him be the one to see them, had trusted him enough to let him comfort her. He felt closer to her in that moment than he ever had before.
It was nice to be leaned on for a change, to be able to help. Kara never let him do that, never took the support he tried to offer. He could tell from her face every time Caprica was mentioned that something bad had happened to her there, but she wouldn't talk about it, no matter how many opportunities he gave her, and that hurt. At least Emma didn't think he was too weak to comfort her.
After a while – he wasn't sure how long – Emma's tears finally subsided, and she straightened, wiping her eyes.
"I'm sorry." She looked embarrassed. "I didn't mean you to-"
"Don't apologise," he said firmly. "You don't need to. After all you've done for me in the last few weeks, it was the least I could do."
She shifted awkwardly. "I'm still sorry. I never – I can't believe I – oh gods, did I really shout at that poor woman?" A dark flush spread over her face.
"Emma, stop it." Zak reached out and pushed her chin up gently, making her look at him. Her grey eyes met his uncertainly. "Don't beat yourself up over this. Everyone has a breaking point, and you reached yours today. Don't blame yourself for it. You can't be strong for ever."
She still looked embarrassed, but she didn't look away. "I suppose not. It was just – I'd been on edge all day – her birthday – and then seeing that girl – it was just too much-"
"I know."
"I'll go and see the mother – apologise," she said determinedly.
"If it'll make you feel better."
Emma smiled at him shyly. "I think you already did that. Thank you for making me talk about her. I needed to. I didn't realise that, but I needed to."
"You hadn't before?" She shook her head, confirming his suspicions. "Not even to Lee?"
"No. Lee knows about all her, of course, but – he tried to get me to talk about it, but I just couldn't. It hurt too much."
"Maybe you just had to wait for the right time."
"Or the right person." Emma smiled at him, so brightly that it took his breath away for a moment. "Thank you, Zak. Thanks for everything. I'm glad you were here."
----
The wait outside Cottle's office seemed endless. Kara sat staring blankly at the wall opposite her. It took every ounce of determination she had to stay there and wait for the results of her tests, when every instinct was screaming at her to bolt out of life station and run as far away as she could. She found herself digging her nails into her palms so hard that she drew blood; somehow the pain focused her, made the wait easier.
So did Lee, sitting quietly beside her. If he hadn't been there, solid and reassuring, she could never have gone through with this.
Finally Cottle appeared in front of them, holding a clipboard.
"Results are back." Kara couldn't get any clues from his face; it was as inscrutable as ever. "Come into my office, Captain."
Kara stood up shakily. Lee made to follow her, but Cottle put a restraining hand on his arm. "Just the Captain, Lieutenant."
"No," Kara said harshly. "No, I want him there."
Cottle looked from her to Lee and back again, eyebrows raised curiously. "All right." He waved them both into his office and closed the door behind them. "Take a seat."
Kara was glad to sit down. She was mortified by the way her knees were shaking, and she didn't want either of them to see it. Lee took the seat next to her, squeezing her shoulder as he did so. She turned to look at him and he smiled; just briefly, but it steadied her.
She was Starbuck, she reminded herself. If she could face eight raiders on her own, she could face this. She took a deep breath and turned to Cottle, her chin lifting.
"So what's the verdict, doc? Give it to me straight."
Cottle looked at her with a hint of approval. "All right, Captain. The scans showed that part of your right ovary is missing."
"Missing?"
"Surgically removed," Cottle said grimly.
"Why would they do that?" said Lee, and Kara thanked him silently for asking the question she couldn't quite form.
"Well, from what you have told me about the Cylons' facility on Caprica, they probably took it to test Captain Thrace's fertility. Or possibly to remove the egg cells for experiments."
"Experiments?" Kara laughed harshly. "For test tube babies. That's what you mean, isn't it, doc?"
Cottle sighed. "Yes." Kara appreciated his bluntness for once. She'd rather that than he tried to pussyfoot round the facts.
She forced herself to ask the next question. "So – is that all they did? They didn't put anything in?" Deep down, that was what she had feared the most, that they'd put something alien in her body.
"No," said Cottle firmly. "I did every scan and ran every test I could think of, and nothing abnormal showed up. It appears they took a sample of your ovary, and that's all." Kara took a full breath for the first time since she'd walked into his office. "I have to tell you that the loss may mean you have difficulty getting pregnant in the future."
Kara laughed harshly, and saw Lee glance at her anxiously. "Well, I don't think I need to worry about that. I'm too busy killing Cylons to think about having children."
She expected a sarcastic reply, but Cottle just nodded. It unnerved her, and suddenly she needed to be out of this office, away from the hospital smell.
"Is that all? Anything else I need to know?"
Cottle shook his head. "No, Captain. You can go now."
Kara sprang to her feet, almost tripping over her chair in her haste to get out of the office. She strode out of life station, not stopping until she was around the bend of the corridor and out of sight. Then she leant back against the bulkhead and closed her eyes.
"Kara."
She opened her eyes to see Lee standing in front of her. He was doing his best not to look anxious, but it was leaking through anyway. If he asks me if I'm okay, I'm going to punch him.
But he didn't. "At least you know," he said instead.
"Yeah." She closed her eyes briefly. "Lee, I can't – I can't talk about it. Not now. I feel like I'm going to frakking explode. Don't push me."
"All right."
"And don't be nice to me either." If he did she might break down, and she wasn't going to give the Cylons the satisfaction.
"All right." He was watching her consideringly. "How about we go shoot something instead?"
"What?" She stared at him in surprise.
"Let's go to the firing range."
She stared at him for another moment, thinking about it. Imagining the feel of a gun in her hands, the release of firing it, of channelling all the rage and panic roiling inside her.
"Yes," she breathed in gratitude. "Yes, that's exactly what I need."
----
Shooting did make her feel better. The tension in her chest lightened as she made her first shot, and she emptied her clip without a pause, breathing more easily with each shot.
"Wow. Someone's feeling aggressive," said Hotdog. He'd already been in the firing range when they arrived.
Kara didn't reply, just pressed the button to retrieve the target. She could see Lee mouthing 'shut up' at Hotdog out of the corner of her eye.
She retrieved her target and discovered she hadn't missed once. She fingered the holes in Sharon's face, supposing she ought to feel uncomfortable about using the image of the woman who was carrying her friend's child as a target, but she didn't. At the moment she couldn't think of Sharon as Sharon, just as one of the machines who had captured her and mutilated her body, and all she wanted was to destroy every last one of them, to make them pay for all the pain and anguish they had put her through.
"Here," said Lee, handing her a reloaded gun. Kara took it, clipped in a fresh target, and began firing again.
With every shot she felt better, more in control. Every explosion reminded her that she wasn't helpless, wasn't as weak as the farm had made her feel. She could fight back – hell, she had fought back. She'd escaped from the farm, got the Arrow of Apollo back to the fleet, shot down gods knew how many raiders since she got back.
The thought of what the Cylons might be doing with the cells they had stolen from her made her stomach churn, made her want to crawl into a dark corner and hide, but she wouldn't. She'd fight back against it. She wouldn't let them win.
She realised that her gun was empty again, and that Lee was holding out another. She smiled at him, and it must have showed she was feeling better, because his face lightened, the lines in his forehead smoothing away.
"Better?" he said softly, and she nodded.
"Much. This was a good idea. Thanks Lee." She didn't know how she'd have got through this without him.
"I thought you might need to shoot something. I know I did." There was a flash of anger in his face that took her by surprise. "I keep thinking if I'd only got to you sooner-"
"Don't." She put a hand on his arm. "You got there as soon as you could." She shot a quick glance at Hotdog, who was studiously not listening to their conversation. "We can't talk about this here."
Lee nodded.
She turned to Hotdog, pasting on her brightest Starbuck smile. "So, Hotdog, what do you think of the Chief's new project? Will he get it to fly?"
She heard Lee snort behind her. "Not a chance in hell."
She turned to look at him, grinning. "Bet you fifty cubits he gets it in the air."
"Yeah, right. Who's going to be stupid enough to fly it?"
Hotdog laughed. "Don't look at me."
"I'll fly it." Kara said, and then wondered what had possessed her to say so. It must be reaction to all the stress she'd been through in the last few hours; she was feeling strangely light-headed.
"You?" Lee was laughing now. "The mighty CAG is going to fly that piece of junk?"
"Why not?" She turned to face him, taking a step closer. "At least the Chief is doing something positive, not standing around whining-"
"Whining?" The look on Lee's face made her giggle. "I'm not whining."
"You are."
"Am not."
"Are." She giggled again, trying to catch her breath. Why was her heart thumping so hard all of a sudden?
"Am not," said Lee stubbornly.
There was a crash from behind her. Kara turned slowly to see Hotdog sprawled on the ground. She started giggling again, unable to stop herself, and could hear Lee doing the same beside her.
This is wrong, she thought vaguely, something's wrong, but she couldn't hold on to the thought, everything was too blurred. She looked down at Hotdog and started laughing again as she saw his mouth.
"His lips are blue." She looked at Lee and grinned, pointing at his mouth. "So are yours. You look like a blueberry."
Lee blinked at her. For a second his smile faded and there was a flicker of fear in his eyes.
"There's no oxygen in here," he said, stumbling over the words. "There's no oxygen in here. There's no oxygen-"
"I get it!"
He tottered over to the hatch, pulled at it uselessly. "Locked."
Kara's gaze moved to the glass window in the hatch. She raised her gun and started firing.
"Missed."
She swore and pulled the trigger again, but nothing happened. It took her a moment to realise why. "I'm empty."
Lee blinked at her. Then he grabbed an explosive round from the shelf beside him and walked towards her. She went to meet him and they stumbled into each other, the impact sending them both sprawling to the floor.
Kara tried to get up again, but she couldn't. It felt like lead weights were dragging down her limbs.
You have to move, she thought, you're going to die…but the words didn't seem real, had no urgency. She was so damn tired…
She felt a hand on her wrist and realised Lee was loading the gun. She heard the bullets click into place.
Lee tried to raise the gun to shoot, but his arm was shaking. She summoned the last of her strength and put her hand over his, steadying him, helping him to lift his arm.
They took the shot together, and the window shattered.
Air. Beautiful recycled air. Kara took deep gulping breaths, her head dropping onto Lee's shoulder. She realised she was laughing again, couldn't stop herself, and then she felt him shaking against her and realised he was too.
She had to stop. It wasn't funny…they'd nearly died…but they hadn't. She savoured the sensations around her, breathing life in…the cotton feel of Lee's tanks under her cheek, the scent of sweat as she pressed her face against his neck, the reassuring solidity of his body against hers.
She heard him murmur her name and raised her head to find him looking down at her, the bright vitality of those blue eyes piercing her even through those stupid goggles. She felt a wave of relief swamp her, that he was still there. What would she have done if she lost him…?
She felt him shift slightly so he was on his side facing her. He put a hand on her cheek, looking at her anxiously. Her eyes met his and everything blurred around her, until she was lost in his gaze.
She was never sure, afterwards, which of them moved first. Maybe they both did. All she knew was that somehow her lips brushed against his, and clung there, and then she was kissing him, and nothing else really mattered.
