Chapter 3
It seemed to take forever to get from the jump site back to the Galactica. Wireless silence was the rule, just in case the jump had been monitored. Kara was to the point of pacing by the time they reached the fleet, and was absolutely crazy by the time that they could establish a lock and get off the tanker.
The Galactica was to be refueled first, as it had the largest compliment. Then the other ships in sequence. Some were coming to the tanker, and then the tanker would be going to the rest. Kara was just glad this had been the first stop, because the pressure in her chest was getting unreasonable.
She pushed past Tigh in her urgency to get on board, and thankfully he had the good sense not to argue with her. She took the ramp at a jog, and pounced on the first person with any authority at all. The fact that he ranked lower than her didn't even occur to her.
"Chief, have you heard from the Raptor?"
Tyrol turned to face her, surprised at the uncharacteristic panic in her voice. She knew she must sound insane, but she had to know.
"Came aboard twenty minutes ago," he said simply. "No problems."
"Was Lee on board?"
The blank look on his face was clearer than any answer. "He was supposed to come back on the tanker," Tyrol said clearly.
"He came around the other side of the bunker," she told him quickly. "Check with Kohler. Find out if he was on the Raptor."
There was a sadness beginning on the Chief's face that Kara refused to acknowledge. "I don't have to check," he said simply. "I did the post- flight myself. Apollo wasn't there."
Kara closed her eyes as the impact of those words sunk in. Lee wasn't on the Raptor. He wasn't on the tanker. That only left one option.
They had left him behind.
"We have to go back," she whispered desperately.
"Kara, that's not possible," the Chief told her, coming forward to put a hand on her arm. She felt wobbly enough that the contact was welcome, and that alone let her know how far gone she was. "Kohler said you were under full assault when you left the planet. You'd be going back into a trap."
She shook her head at that, unaware for the moment that Colonel Tigh had walked up behind her. "We have to," she reiterated. "We can't leave him there. He's the CAG."
"Chief?" Tigh's voice was clear and demanding. He didn't have to voice the question.
"Captain Adama didn't return from the mission," Tyrol said softly.
"We're going back," Kara said firmly. "We aren't leaving him. We can't just leave him."
She turned to Tigh, and the mere fact that she was willing to speak with him must have had some impact, because he wasn't as brusque as he normally was. His expression looked almost hurt. "He knew the risks of the mission," he said simply, his voice oddly gentle, as though she might break.
"Risk," she said, fury replacing her panic. "You left him there. That's not risk, it's desertion."
"Lieutenant, I know you're upset," he began, but she didn't let him finish.
"I'm way beyond upset, you drunken bastard! I told you to check, and you wouldn't listen! You can't just leave your team behind. Maybe you can be a heartless son-of-a-bitch, but some of us care about our teams!"
Tyrol's hand on her arm had gone from soothing to restraining as she moved towards Tigh. He backed up a few steps, probably knowing she had a hell of a right hook, and let the Chief get between them.
"I need to see the Commander," Tigh said to Tyrol. "You can keep her here, or take her to the brig. I really don't care which."
She started for him as soon as he turned his back, but the Chief was on her before she could get off a swing. He held her right arm, Evans stepped forward to take her left, and she found herself effectively restrained. "He left him," she said again, as though they hadn't heard. As though half of the hanger hadn't heard.
"Kara, you need to calm down," the Chief told her quietly. "You can't do a damn thing from the brig, and you're headed there in a hurry if you don't keep it together."
"I'm together," she muttered, jerking her arms away from both of them. She wasn't sure if she was that strong at the moment, or if they had let her go. She didn't care. Tigh was out of sight, and with him her target for wrath. "How long will it take to get a Raptor ready to go back?"
Tyrol took a deep breath. She wanted to hit him, but the look on his face was so understanding that she couldn't bring herself to do it. "We can't go back," he told her quietly. "Even if we did, the chances that he's still alive are next to nothing. Kohler said there were Cylons everywhere."
She finally ground to a halt, energy draining as the words registered. Lee could be dead. She had felt it before, but then he had been two years absent from her life. Now he was a direct part of it, and she didn't know quite how to manage without him.
"I'll walk you to your quarters," he said softly. "Just let me tell Calli where I'm going."
She stood in shock until he returned a moment later. They walked together the length of the ship, to the hatch leading to Blue Squadron's living quarters. Tigh opened the hatch, and escorted her to her bunk. She wondered vaguely how he knew which one was hers, but she was too numb to ask. At eye level was Lee's bunk, directly above hers.
"You need to rest," he told her softly. "You've been on the go for days. You can't have slept much on the mission. You'll feel better after you get some rest."
She nodded dumbly, taking a seat at the edge of her bunk, eyes glazed and mind at a halt. Lee couldn't be gone. He couldn't be. She didn't see Tyrol back away and speak to the pilot in the bunk by the door. She didn't see the hatch close behind the Chief. She didn't hear the quiet murmur of those around her as the word was gently passed from man to man: their CAG was gone.
It never occurred to her that she was now the senior pilot.
Saul Tigh took a deep breath as he walked towards CIC. If there were anything else he could do in the world, he would have done it. But someone had to tell the Commander what had happened, and he didn't want it made worse by his putting Thrace in the brig. He had a right - she was insubordinate at the least - but she was also hurting. Even he could see that.
Adama turned towards him as he walked into the room. The question was on his face as well as in his words. "We were successful?"
Tigh gave a brief nod, then requested, "I'd like to see you in your quarters."
The look on the Commander's face was confused, but twenty years of friendship told Tigh that he wouldn't be questioned. If he had something to say that couldn't be announced in CIC, he had his reasons.
The Commander spoke to his Lieutenant, then followed Tigh towards his quarters. Once inside, with the door closed, he turned to face him. "What is it."
"We have a couple of problems," Tigh admitted. "Big ones."
"Spit it out."
That was Bill. Straight to the point. "We lost a man," he said softly.
The Commander met his eyes, and Saul could see the wheels turning. He didn't have to spell it out. "Lee or Kara?" he asked. His voice was low, but it didn't break.
"Lee," he confirmed. It didn't surprise him that the Commander had figured it out on his own. If he had called him into privacy to deliver the news, it had to be someone close to him.
William's eyes closed, and Tigh watched the older man take a slow, deliberate breath. "There's more," he added, trying to get it all in while the shock was still fresh. Better one blow than two, he decided. Then it might all blend together into one trauma, more easily recoverable. God, he wanted a drink. "We got a good look at some of the Cylons. We have one on board."
Adama didn't speak for a moment. When he did, his voice was low and gravelly. "You're sure?"
"Kohler had the good sense to hit the recon camera," he answered. "You can look for yourself."
"Who?" he asked, his voice becoming stronger. Tigh was relieved - he didn't know how many times his friend could be beaten down and still get back up.
"Lieutenant Valerii," he said gently. "She's a pilot."
"One of our best," Adama said carefully. "I presented that cluster myself. She risked her life a dozen times over to get this fleet to safety."
"The picture's clear," Tigh told him. "It's not a chance we can take."
William sat on the edge of his desk, looking old and tired and ready to quit. Saul wasn't surprised. He would likely feel the same way. He didn't feel all that good being the bearer of the news, but he knew that someone had to do it. Better a friend than a kid, or a report.
"We'll need to get Salik up here," Adama thought out loud. "He was working with some of the studies that Baltar started."
"Baltar was crazy," Tigh reminded him.
"Not always. At one point he was a brilliant scientist, and part of what he was doing was based on our own research aboard the Galactica. I don't remember it all, but something about the brain tissue after it was cremated. Maybe Salik can devise something to confirm what she is before we do anything."
"That's a big 'maybe'," Tigh muttered. "And if the option is having her brain fried she might prefer to be left behind."
"She's a member of this crew until we prove otherwise," Adama said firmly. "And I want this kept under wraps until we have our answers. If word of this gets out it'll be chaos. We've talked about the paranoia before."
"Can I at least recommend some caution," Tigh said in frustration. "She should be locked up until we know for sure."
"She's married," the Commander said. "That won't go over well."
"It may very well be a machine," Tigh clarified. "It may not even know what it is."
"You don't know what it is," he said in a tired voice. "And there's no point in arguing about speculation. Get Salik down here, and we'll find out what we can do."
"I'm not going to argue," Tigh said softly. "But I do want you to think about this. Try to think of this as though you didn't know her. If it was someone off the prison barge, you wouldn't think twice about maintaining security."
"But it's not."
"It doesn't matter," Tigh said. "The procedure should be the same. We were cautious with Doral, and we need to be cautious with Valerii."
Adama closed his eyes and was silent for a long moment. Tigh wanted to press while he appeared to have the advantage, but he knew better. Bill would come to this on his own, or not at all.
"Confine her to the brig," he finally said. "Post a guard, but keep it within reason. I don't want anyone pointing weapons at her or making accusations. We just don't know yet."
Tigh nodded, knowing that it was as close as he could get to what he believed was necessary. The Commander didn't push worth a damn, and Saul wouldn't have done it anyway. There was a look in his eye that told him that his Commander was as near the edge as he'd ever been. A man could only take so much at one time.
"I'll take care of it," he said. "Do you need me to cover CIC?"
"It's my responsibility," Adama said simply.
"Take your time," Tigh offered. "I'll be there until you're ready."
William nodded, but said no more. Saul left him there, sitting on his desk and looking for all the world like a lost little boy.
William was still sitting there when he heard the knock he had half expected. He didn't call out, as he usually would, but instead walked silently to his hatch and opened it.
Kara was standing there, looking just about the way he felt. Her eyes were dry, but he could see the emotion there. "Come in," he told her softly. His voice was breaking, but he couldn't do anything about it.
"I want permission to go back to the planet," she said without preamble. "Jump, get Lee, and come back."
"Denied."
The look on her face would have been funny under other circumstances. Now it just hurt. "But, Sir."
"The mission was a success," Adama told her with more conviction than he felt. "Against all odds, we have the fuel we need to jump. We will not risk that success by going back."
Her face had gone from surprise to pure fury. "I can't leave him there!" she told him, her voice rising.
"We have no choice," he told her simply. Then, he told her what he'd been telling himself for the last twenty minutes. "He knew the risks, Kara. That's why he insisted on going. He didn't want one of his men in that position."
"Tigh left him," she began, only to be cut off again.
"Sending a Raptor back would be suicide for the fleet," he said. "They'll be in the sky trying to trace the jump. With Vipers on the ground, they'll think we're closer than we are, and that's our only hope. Sending back a Raptor with a jump computer would be sending them an invitation. Even if he's alive - which is highly unlikely given the planet climate and occupation - you'd never find him in time to get back for the jump. I won't sacrifice another ship, and possibly the entire fleet. Not even for my son."
"They won't be in the sky," she argued. "I took out the launching area. They can't get anything off the ground."
"That you know of," he corrected.
"They won't expect us to come back! We got what we went for. They're machines - they don't know what loyalty is, or what human life means to us."
"You can't know that. We don't know what they know about us after forty years. Given what they've done to us, I'd say they know a great deal more than you're giving them credit for."
He could see the anger coming off Kara in waves. It was a fury that lost none of its strength for its impotence. "He's your son," she finally said, bitterness in every word. "Don't you care?"
He didn't really have to answer that. For just a moment, he was grateful for the numbness that was surrounding him. He could be logical without feeling for the moment. He hurt too much to feel. "You know I do," he told her gently.
He kept waiting for the storm of tears, but it didn't come. Instead, it was as though he was watching a wall drop between them. As she had when Zak had been killed, Kara was holding everything in. A part of him was grateful - he didn't know if he could handle her grief as well as his own - but another part was worried. This reaction had almost destroyed her last time.
"He's alive," she finally said, her voice a deadly calm.
"What?"
"I feel it," she said, some slight emotion creeping back into her voice.
"Kara."
"When Zak died, I knew the exact instant," she insisted. "They couldn't get into the plane, but I knew. It was like - I don't know - a certainty. I just knew. Even when they got him out and spent an hour trying to get him back, I knew there was no use. If Lee was dead, I would feel it. All I feel the need to go back and get him. He has to be alive."
"I pray you're wrong," he told her. At the look on her face, he stepped forward and took her hands in his. "Kara, you know the climate on that planet. He wouldn't last for long, even if he could evade capture. And if I know my son, he wouldn't take the risk. He knows how vital he is to this ship - the information he has - and he wouldn't let them take him alive. He knew the mission, and he knew this could happen. He knows we can't come back."
"He shouldn't have been left," Kara whispered, and the tears were finally coming. "Tigh."
"Did exactly as he was ordered," Adama finished, taking the woman into his arms and holding on tight. "I would have had to do the same thing."
"You wouldn't have left him," she whispered, her face buried in his chest.
"Then we would have lost the tanker, and fifty-thousand people would have frozen to death in space. Could you have let that happen?"
She didn't have an answer for him any more than he had comfort for her. Nothing they could do would turn back time, or get Lee home. The gamble was over, and while the fleet had won, the two of them had lost everything.
He held her for a few more minutes, and then she pulled away. Brushing her hands over her face, she removed the trails of tears and managed to look remarkably composed. The mask he had seen earlier fell back into place - her shield against the world. "I'm sorry, Sir."
"So am I," he answered.
With nothing left to say, Kara turned and went back out the hatch. He stood there for a moment more, wishing he could cry himself. He certainly couldn't feel any worse. But he had a ship to run, and they had a jump to prep for. They had calculated four hours to disperse the fuel, and it had nearly been one now. There was a lot to do, and very little time. Adama took a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly.
Feeling at least partially in control of himself, he left his quarters and began the short walk to CIC.
It seemed to take forever to get from the jump site back to the Galactica. Wireless silence was the rule, just in case the jump had been monitored. Kara was to the point of pacing by the time they reached the fleet, and was absolutely crazy by the time that they could establish a lock and get off the tanker.
The Galactica was to be refueled first, as it had the largest compliment. Then the other ships in sequence. Some were coming to the tanker, and then the tanker would be going to the rest. Kara was just glad this had been the first stop, because the pressure in her chest was getting unreasonable.
She pushed past Tigh in her urgency to get on board, and thankfully he had the good sense not to argue with her. She took the ramp at a jog, and pounced on the first person with any authority at all. The fact that he ranked lower than her didn't even occur to her.
"Chief, have you heard from the Raptor?"
Tyrol turned to face her, surprised at the uncharacteristic panic in her voice. She knew she must sound insane, but she had to know.
"Came aboard twenty minutes ago," he said simply. "No problems."
"Was Lee on board?"
The blank look on his face was clearer than any answer. "He was supposed to come back on the tanker," Tyrol said clearly.
"He came around the other side of the bunker," she told him quickly. "Check with Kohler. Find out if he was on the Raptor."
There was a sadness beginning on the Chief's face that Kara refused to acknowledge. "I don't have to check," he said simply. "I did the post- flight myself. Apollo wasn't there."
Kara closed her eyes as the impact of those words sunk in. Lee wasn't on the Raptor. He wasn't on the tanker. That only left one option.
They had left him behind.
"We have to go back," she whispered desperately.
"Kara, that's not possible," the Chief told her, coming forward to put a hand on her arm. She felt wobbly enough that the contact was welcome, and that alone let her know how far gone she was. "Kohler said you were under full assault when you left the planet. You'd be going back into a trap."
She shook her head at that, unaware for the moment that Colonel Tigh had walked up behind her. "We have to," she reiterated. "We can't leave him there. He's the CAG."
"Chief?" Tigh's voice was clear and demanding. He didn't have to voice the question.
"Captain Adama didn't return from the mission," Tyrol said softly.
"We're going back," Kara said firmly. "We aren't leaving him. We can't just leave him."
She turned to Tigh, and the mere fact that she was willing to speak with him must have had some impact, because he wasn't as brusque as he normally was. His expression looked almost hurt. "He knew the risks of the mission," he said simply, his voice oddly gentle, as though she might break.
"Risk," she said, fury replacing her panic. "You left him there. That's not risk, it's desertion."
"Lieutenant, I know you're upset," he began, but she didn't let him finish.
"I'm way beyond upset, you drunken bastard! I told you to check, and you wouldn't listen! You can't just leave your team behind. Maybe you can be a heartless son-of-a-bitch, but some of us care about our teams!"
Tyrol's hand on her arm had gone from soothing to restraining as she moved towards Tigh. He backed up a few steps, probably knowing she had a hell of a right hook, and let the Chief get between them.
"I need to see the Commander," Tigh said to Tyrol. "You can keep her here, or take her to the brig. I really don't care which."
She started for him as soon as he turned his back, but the Chief was on her before she could get off a swing. He held her right arm, Evans stepped forward to take her left, and she found herself effectively restrained. "He left him," she said again, as though they hadn't heard. As though half of the hanger hadn't heard.
"Kara, you need to calm down," the Chief told her quietly. "You can't do a damn thing from the brig, and you're headed there in a hurry if you don't keep it together."
"I'm together," she muttered, jerking her arms away from both of them. She wasn't sure if she was that strong at the moment, or if they had let her go. She didn't care. Tigh was out of sight, and with him her target for wrath. "How long will it take to get a Raptor ready to go back?"
Tyrol took a deep breath. She wanted to hit him, but the look on his face was so understanding that she couldn't bring herself to do it. "We can't go back," he told her quietly. "Even if we did, the chances that he's still alive are next to nothing. Kohler said there were Cylons everywhere."
She finally ground to a halt, energy draining as the words registered. Lee could be dead. She had felt it before, but then he had been two years absent from her life. Now he was a direct part of it, and she didn't know quite how to manage without him.
"I'll walk you to your quarters," he said softly. "Just let me tell Calli where I'm going."
She stood in shock until he returned a moment later. They walked together the length of the ship, to the hatch leading to Blue Squadron's living quarters. Tigh opened the hatch, and escorted her to her bunk. She wondered vaguely how he knew which one was hers, but she was too numb to ask. At eye level was Lee's bunk, directly above hers.
"You need to rest," he told her softly. "You've been on the go for days. You can't have slept much on the mission. You'll feel better after you get some rest."
She nodded dumbly, taking a seat at the edge of her bunk, eyes glazed and mind at a halt. Lee couldn't be gone. He couldn't be. She didn't see Tyrol back away and speak to the pilot in the bunk by the door. She didn't see the hatch close behind the Chief. She didn't hear the quiet murmur of those around her as the word was gently passed from man to man: their CAG was gone.
It never occurred to her that she was now the senior pilot.
Saul Tigh took a deep breath as he walked towards CIC. If there were anything else he could do in the world, he would have done it. But someone had to tell the Commander what had happened, and he didn't want it made worse by his putting Thrace in the brig. He had a right - she was insubordinate at the least - but she was also hurting. Even he could see that.
Adama turned towards him as he walked into the room. The question was on his face as well as in his words. "We were successful?"
Tigh gave a brief nod, then requested, "I'd like to see you in your quarters."
The look on the Commander's face was confused, but twenty years of friendship told Tigh that he wouldn't be questioned. If he had something to say that couldn't be announced in CIC, he had his reasons.
The Commander spoke to his Lieutenant, then followed Tigh towards his quarters. Once inside, with the door closed, he turned to face him. "What is it."
"We have a couple of problems," Tigh admitted. "Big ones."
"Spit it out."
That was Bill. Straight to the point. "We lost a man," he said softly.
The Commander met his eyes, and Saul could see the wheels turning. He didn't have to spell it out. "Lee or Kara?" he asked. His voice was low, but it didn't break.
"Lee," he confirmed. It didn't surprise him that the Commander had figured it out on his own. If he had called him into privacy to deliver the news, it had to be someone close to him.
William's eyes closed, and Tigh watched the older man take a slow, deliberate breath. "There's more," he added, trying to get it all in while the shock was still fresh. Better one blow than two, he decided. Then it might all blend together into one trauma, more easily recoverable. God, he wanted a drink. "We got a good look at some of the Cylons. We have one on board."
Adama didn't speak for a moment. When he did, his voice was low and gravelly. "You're sure?"
"Kohler had the good sense to hit the recon camera," he answered. "You can look for yourself."
"Who?" he asked, his voice becoming stronger. Tigh was relieved - he didn't know how many times his friend could be beaten down and still get back up.
"Lieutenant Valerii," he said gently. "She's a pilot."
"One of our best," Adama said carefully. "I presented that cluster myself. She risked her life a dozen times over to get this fleet to safety."
"The picture's clear," Tigh told him. "It's not a chance we can take."
William sat on the edge of his desk, looking old and tired and ready to quit. Saul wasn't surprised. He would likely feel the same way. He didn't feel all that good being the bearer of the news, but he knew that someone had to do it. Better a friend than a kid, or a report.
"We'll need to get Salik up here," Adama thought out loud. "He was working with some of the studies that Baltar started."
"Baltar was crazy," Tigh reminded him.
"Not always. At one point he was a brilliant scientist, and part of what he was doing was based on our own research aboard the Galactica. I don't remember it all, but something about the brain tissue after it was cremated. Maybe Salik can devise something to confirm what she is before we do anything."
"That's a big 'maybe'," Tigh muttered. "And if the option is having her brain fried she might prefer to be left behind."
"She's a member of this crew until we prove otherwise," Adama said firmly. "And I want this kept under wraps until we have our answers. If word of this gets out it'll be chaos. We've talked about the paranoia before."
"Can I at least recommend some caution," Tigh said in frustration. "She should be locked up until we know for sure."
"She's married," the Commander said. "That won't go over well."
"It may very well be a machine," Tigh clarified. "It may not even know what it is."
"You don't know what it is," he said in a tired voice. "And there's no point in arguing about speculation. Get Salik down here, and we'll find out what we can do."
"I'm not going to argue," Tigh said softly. "But I do want you to think about this. Try to think of this as though you didn't know her. If it was someone off the prison barge, you wouldn't think twice about maintaining security."
"But it's not."
"It doesn't matter," Tigh said. "The procedure should be the same. We were cautious with Doral, and we need to be cautious with Valerii."
Adama closed his eyes and was silent for a long moment. Tigh wanted to press while he appeared to have the advantage, but he knew better. Bill would come to this on his own, or not at all.
"Confine her to the brig," he finally said. "Post a guard, but keep it within reason. I don't want anyone pointing weapons at her or making accusations. We just don't know yet."
Tigh nodded, knowing that it was as close as he could get to what he believed was necessary. The Commander didn't push worth a damn, and Saul wouldn't have done it anyway. There was a look in his eye that told him that his Commander was as near the edge as he'd ever been. A man could only take so much at one time.
"I'll take care of it," he said. "Do you need me to cover CIC?"
"It's my responsibility," Adama said simply.
"Take your time," Tigh offered. "I'll be there until you're ready."
William nodded, but said no more. Saul left him there, sitting on his desk and looking for all the world like a lost little boy.
William was still sitting there when he heard the knock he had half expected. He didn't call out, as he usually would, but instead walked silently to his hatch and opened it.
Kara was standing there, looking just about the way he felt. Her eyes were dry, but he could see the emotion there. "Come in," he told her softly. His voice was breaking, but he couldn't do anything about it.
"I want permission to go back to the planet," she said without preamble. "Jump, get Lee, and come back."
"Denied."
The look on her face would have been funny under other circumstances. Now it just hurt. "But, Sir."
"The mission was a success," Adama told her with more conviction than he felt. "Against all odds, we have the fuel we need to jump. We will not risk that success by going back."
Her face had gone from surprise to pure fury. "I can't leave him there!" she told him, her voice rising.
"We have no choice," he told her simply. Then, he told her what he'd been telling himself for the last twenty minutes. "He knew the risks, Kara. That's why he insisted on going. He didn't want one of his men in that position."
"Tigh left him," she began, only to be cut off again.
"Sending a Raptor back would be suicide for the fleet," he said. "They'll be in the sky trying to trace the jump. With Vipers on the ground, they'll think we're closer than we are, and that's our only hope. Sending back a Raptor with a jump computer would be sending them an invitation. Even if he's alive - which is highly unlikely given the planet climate and occupation - you'd never find him in time to get back for the jump. I won't sacrifice another ship, and possibly the entire fleet. Not even for my son."
"They won't be in the sky," she argued. "I took out the launching area. They can't get anything off the ground."
"That you know of," he corrected.
"They won't expect us to come back! We got what we went for. They're machines - they don't know what loyalty is, or what human life means to us."
"You can't know that. We don't know what they know about us after forty years. Given what they've done to us, I'd say they know a great deal more than you're giving them credit for."
He could see the anger coming off Kara in waves. It was a fury that lost none of its strength for its impotence. "He's your son," she finally said, bitterness in every word. "Don't you care?"
He didn't really have to answer that. For just a moment, he was grateful for the numbness that was surrounding him. He could be logical without feeling for the moment. He hurt too much to feel. "You know I do," he told her gently.
He kept waiting for the storm of tears, but it didn't come. Instead, it was as though he was watching a wall drop between them. As she had when Zak had been killed, Kara was holding everything in. A part of him was grateful - he didn't know if he could handle her grief as well as his own - but another part was worried. This reaction had almost destroyed her last time.
"He's alive," she finally said, her voice a deadly calm.
"What?"
"I feel it," she said, some slight emotion creeping back into her voice.
"Kara."
"When Zak died, I knew the exact instant," she insisted. "They couldn't get into the plane, but I knew. It was like - I don't know - a certainty. I just knew. Even when they got him out and spent an hour trying to get him back, I knew there was no use. If Lee was dead, I would feel it. All I feel the need to go back and get him. He has to be alive."
"I pray you're wrong," he told her. At the look on her face, he stepped forward and took her hands in his. "Kara, you know the climate on that planet. He wouldn't last for long, even if he could evade capture. And if I know my son, he wouldn't take the risk. He knows how vital he is to this ship - the information he has - and he wouldn't let them take him alive. He knew the mission, and he knew this could happen. He knows we can't come back."
"He shouldn't have been left," Kara whispered, and the tears were finally coming. "Tigh."
"Did exactly as he was ordered," Adama finished, taking the woman into his arms and holding on tight. "I would have had to do the same thing."
"You wouldn't have left him," she whispered, her face buried in his chest.
"Then we would have lost the tanker, and fifty-thousand people would have frozen to death in space. Could you have let that happen?"
She didn't have an answer for him any more than he had comfort for her. Nothing they could do would turn back time, or get Lee home. The gamble was over, and while the fleet had won, the two of them had lost everything.
He held her for a few more minutes, and then she pulled away. Brushing her hands over her face, she removed the trails of tears and managed to look remarkably composed. The mask he had seen earlier fell back into place - her shield against the world. "I'm sorry, Sir."
"So am I," he answered.
With nothing left to say, Kara turned and went back out the hatch. He stood there for a moment more, wishing he could cry himself. He certainly couldn't feel any worse. But he had a ship to run, and they had a jump to prep for. They had calculated four hours to disperse the fuel, and it had nearly been one now. There was a lot to do, and very little time. Adama took a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly.
Feeling at least partially in control of himself, he left his quarters and began the short walk to CIC.