Chapter 6
Sharon looked around the gray room with its silver equipment and tried to stay calm. They had brought her here directly from the landing bay, and she hadn't seen anyone except guards with guns since she'd been placed here. She had done nothing but pace the small room since her arrival. She was scared, and cold, and she would have done anything to turn back the clock to a time before they suspected her of something unspeakable.
Sharon had thought that they might give her some credit if she helped rescue Lee. She had been wrong. It wasn't that she wouldn't have tried to help anyway - Lee was a pretty good guy once you got to know him a little bit - but deep inside she had been grasping at straws to try to find a way out of this.
When the hatch finally swung open, she saw more guards with more guns, but a short man dressed in hospital clothing was allowed through them. He stepped into the room, and they closed the door behind him.
"I'm Doctor Salik," he said quietly. Professionally.
She didn't say anything.
"They've told you why you're here?"
She nodded. Her throat was too tight to say anything.
"Your husband says that you're pregnant," the doctor continued. "Is that true."
She nodded. It seemed to be a good catch-all response.
"I will confirm that before the surgery," he told her. "How far along?"
"Two," she croaked, and then cleared her throat. "I've missed two cycles."
"The medications I'll use won't put the baby at risk. Actually, pregnancy would be a very good sign. I doubt that synthetic organisms could reproduce. They wouldn't be able to manage the cellular adjustments necessary. At least I wouldn't think so." He nodded and moved towards her. She couldn't help but jump. "I need to explain the procedure," he said simply, and walked past her to take a chair next to a small desk in the corner. He turned the chair towards her before he continued speaking. "We will be taking a small biopsy," he told her. "We drill a small hole in the skull, insert a plastic tube, and take out a small bit of tissue. Then we patch the skull, sew you up, and you'll wake up a few minutes later feeling pretty lousy.
"What will it do to me? Will I forget anything?"
He smiled at that. "I won't be taking any tissue from vital areas. There are a number of parts of the brain that are really not very active. There shouldn't be any permanent side-effects."
She rubbed her arms with her hands, trying to get warm. She wondered if they would ever restore heat to the Galactica, or if they'd just use fuel for transport. It seemed a pointless thought, but it was easier to concentrate on being cold than on being a monster.
"I'm not a Cylon," she said softly. "I can't be. I remember growing up, and my parents, and school. It was real. I'm still friends with the people I grew up with, or I was until they were killed in the war."
"I hope you're right," the doctor told her.
"How sure will you be?"
The doctor reached into a desk and took out a large photograph. He handed it to her without any explanation. She took the picture, blinking a few times to focus through the tears that just wouldn't seem to go away, but wouldn't spill over either.
In the picture there were many people. There were blond women who looked identical to one another, balding men that likewise matched, and towards the back of the group two women who could have been her. It wasn't a mistake. The people were all carrying weapons, marching towards the camera with guns pointed and some firing. These were Cylons. She didn't have to be told. And two of them looked exactly like her.
"Oh, God," she said softly. "It can't be true."
"We'll know in a few hours," he told her simply. Reaching into the pocket of his clothing, he withdrew a syringe that contained a clear liquid. "Do I need to have security here?" he asked her.
She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them to look at him. "I have a little boy," she told him softly. "I found him on Caprica, and he's stayed with me or my husband since then."
He looked at her, but seemed to be waiting for her to finish. She tried to find the words to explain. "If I was a Cylon, would I love him? Would I love my husband?"
"I don't know what they're capable of," he said. "But I can't believe a race of creatures that would wipe out all of humanity would care about little boys."
She closed her eyes again, tears finally streaming from them. If this was true - if she was the enemy and didn't even know it - then she was a danger to her family. She was a danger to her friends. She was a danger to humanity itself.
"How long will it take to find out?"
"We remove the tissue, incinerate it, and then examine it. It won't take more than an hour to know for sure. The surgery will take longer than the analysis."
"If I am," she swallowed as her voice broke, then tried again. "If I'm one of them, can you be sure I don't wake up?"
The doctor looked at her with an almost kind expression. She got the feeling that he didn't like this any more than she did. "I'll take care of it," he promised.
"Good," she whispered. "I'd rather not know."
William Adama looked at his son with mixed emotions.
He looked horrible. He was off the life support equipment now, and that gave the Commander hope. His skin was reddened from exposure to the cold air of the planet, and his lips still had a bluish tinge, although that might be the oxygen mask they had on him.
But he was alive. The entire fleet had been put at risk for this, and Kara's life was essentially ruined, but his son was alive. He didn't know how to feel about it.
Lee shivered beneath the warming blankets they had put over him, his hands clutching convulsively on the sides of the bed. It was as though he couldn't rest, even in sleep.
The doctors were worried about skin damage, extremity damage, and lung damage from the long exposure to the cold. He had also been shot, and while the blood loss hadn't been significant, there was infection to consider.
Lee hadn't awoken yet. The doctors had said not to worry about it, that it would take time, but he would have very much liked to seen those eyes open before he had to leave for the jump. He didn't have a choice, though. Colonel Tigh was dealing with the Cylon threat - overseeing the surgery two rooms over - and his responsibility was to be in CIC to manage the jump. They were to leave within the hour, and Gaeta was already making calculations and plotting.
They would not know exactly the coordinates until moments before the jump. That was necessary to preserve the security of the trip, but he still didn't like doing things so quickly. They were simply waiting on a report that the last ship had been fueled, and then they would go. He wouldn't relax until that happened, and at the same time he was dreading it.
Truthfully, he was so emotionally wrecked at the moment that he wasn't even sure of his competence. If it hadn't all been falling apart at once, he would have left Tigh to it, gone to his office, and gone to bed. He probably deserved that after three days of worry regarding the mission, losing his son, finding out they might have a Cylon plant right there among his pilots, losing both Kara and a potential Cylon to a mutiny, and then recovering all of it with essentially no effort on his part. He was still reeling.
He couldn't even feel a proper level of relief, because much of it wasn't over. They still didn't know if Valerii was a Cylon. He still didn't know if his son was okay, and didn't know if he would be able to keep Kara out of jail. All this, and they still weren't safe. They wouldn't be until the jump, which was potentially dangerous in its own right due to the distance and unfamiliarity with the system.
He leaned over and touched his son's forehead; it was the only part of him that he could reach between the warming covers and the mask. Perhaps it was easier with him asleep after all. He didn't look forward to breaking the news about Kara. Lee would feel responsible of course; he wouldn't be able to prevent that. Whether for getting shot or being so close to Kara that she couldn't leave him, Adama didn't know. But he knew his son would take responsibility. That would be another battle.
With a final glance at his boy, he turned and left the sick bay and headed for CIC. They had a jump to complete, and then they needed to start looking for more fuel. There were some complaints about the temperature of the ships, and he couldn't do a thing about it while they were still rationing every drop of Tylium.
He couldn't do anything about most of the situations that were on his mind, but he could definitely ensure that this jump went off without a hitch. That was all he could do, but he would do it and he would do it well. And then he'd take the rest of it as he had to.
Kara stared at the ceiling of the brig and sighed. She'd been here for hours. The fleet had jumped, and still they hadn't sent for her or let her know what was going on. She knew she couldn't expect them to - she was only a prisoner after all - but she still hated being out of the loop.
She supposed it shouldn't matter. They had made the jump, so they were safe from any damage she might have caused by her rash behavior. Knowing this made it a lot easier to live with the decision. She still needed to know that Lee was okay, but at least the gnawing guilt that had submersed her when she'd been placed here had receded to a bearable level. She hadn't destroyed all of them. Maybe, if she could manage it, she would only have destroyed herself. That she could live with.
She didn't get much warning when Adama and Tigh walked into the brig. She stood quickly, as much from agitation as from respect or tradition. If she had ever been afraid, it was now.
"Lieutenant Thrace," the Commander said softly.
"Yes, Sir."
He sighed softly. "Kara, I don't know whether to court martial you or thank you, and it's a hell of a feeling."
"I'm sorry, Sir." It seemed inadequate, but it was all she had.
"Are you really?"
She looked at him, and found she couldn't lie. "I'm sorry that I placed the fleet in danger," she admitted. "And I'm sorry that I got others in trouble for helping me. I'm also sorry I made this worse on Sharon, because she hasn't done anything wrong." She paused a moment, then finished. "I can't be sorry I went back. I couldn't leave him. I'll stand by that decision."
"This isn't just hitting someone," he said almost gently. "This isn't something I can talk around or hide. You committed an act of treason in wartime. And you did it in front of the whole crew. Everyone on the bridge knows that Lee was gone, you took the Raptor, and now Lee's back. Hell, if you'd been any slower jumping we would have shot you out of the sky. I can't make this go away."
"No, Sir," she said softly. "I don't expect you to."
He stood looking at her a moment, then took his glasses off to rub at his eyes. He looked absolutely exhausted. There were dark circles beneath his bloodshot eyes, and his body had a distinctive slump. She could tell what this was doing to him, and added another regret to an ever-growing list.
"Commander?" Tigh said suddenly.
"Yes," he said on a sigh, not even looking sideways at his XO.
"If Lieutenant Thrace had orders to return to the planet, would it make a difference?"
"She didn't," he said simply.
"She might have," he suggested.
Adama looked sideways at him, but said nothing.
"You were very upset," Tigh continued. "And I did have CIC until you got back. I. may have given an order to retrieve a lost man."
The Commander looked thoughtful. Kara was purely shocked.
"You wouldn't have ordered her to break a prisoner out of the brig," he said.
"No," Tigh offered. "But given the number of people it takes to set up a Raptor flight, it's unlikely that it could happen without orders. There's the mechanic, the flight controller, a pilot. And for a one-way mission - or likely that - I could see retaining our more experienced Raptor pilots. A prisoner would be more expendable."
Adama finally turned to face Tigh and put his glasses back on. "At this point, I have half a dozen men in various confinement," he said clearly. "My best pilot is in the brig, my crew chief is under house arrest, and three of my finest Viper pilots are confined to quarters. Are you telling me that they had permission for that behavior?"
"They might have," the XO said vaguely.
"Commander Adama," Kara began.
"Shut up, Starbuck," he said quickly, not taking his eyes off Tigh. "I know you wouldn't make this up, because you don't even like Lieutenant Thrace."
"No reason to make it up, Bill. Maybe I just. forgot. You weren't really in any condition to be giving orders, after all. You didn't even stay in CIC for more than a few minutes before you went back to your quarters. Makes sense that someone else might order her to clean up the mission. Maybe. the man who was in charge of that mission."
"Are you willing to put that in a report?" Adama asked carefully.
"I'd be happy to. Been a little busy for a while. I haven't logged anything just yet."
"See that you do, Colonel," Adama said with a wink. "And you," he said as he turned back to a very stunned Kara. "I want you to report to the life center. You've been on two missions to a hostile environment and still haven't been checked by the docs. And while you're there." His voice got a little think, but he managed to continue. "While you're there, I want you to check on my son. An old man can't keep running to the other end of the ship just to see if his son's awake."
Kara stood in stunned silence as the guard was called in and the cell door unlocked. She continued to stand there while the Commander walked away, leaving her standing there with Tigh. She didn't think she could have said anything if her life depended on it, and that was probably a first for her. She was rarely at a loss for words.
"I believe you were given an order," he said mildly. "You do follow them when they suit you, don't you?"
She swallowed twice, tried to speak, and had to swallow again. "Why?"
"I assume you'd follow them to keep out of trouble," he said, deliberately ignoring her question.
She didn't let it slide. She had never liked Tigh, never trusted him. She gave him a minimum of respect only because he was close to Adama and appeared to genuinely care about him. She had never given him any reason to go out on a limb for her, and she had given him many reasons not to. "Why?" she repeated.
"You can't just." he began, but she cut him off.
"Why?"
He looked at her for a moment, then let out a compressed breath. "He's been through enough," he said simply. "He doesn't need this."
She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what she could say. This didn't take away the last three years of him being an asshole. She wished that it did. In essence, it only confirmed a very selfish nature. He didn't want his friend to suffer.
But she hadn't seen him take a drink in over a year. He carried his weight on the bridge, and sometimes the Commander's as well. He'd been good to Lee, and so far as she knew he hadn't thrown over any tables or thrown any of her friends in the brig for quite some time. She knew that she had changed since the beginning of the war, so it seemed reasonable that he might have changed as well. Maybe. Or maybe he had his own motives. Either way, Adama had told her once to give him a break, and maybe it was time to do that.
Whatever his reasons, he'd just given her both gift and curse. He'd saved her ass, and her career, and those of many of her friends. His motives might be anything, but whether for or against her she was now indebted to him. She really hated that. She didn't like to owe anyone, for anything, but especially not him. And yet it was a gift she could not afford to refuse.
"Thank you," she said softly, hoping it sounded more genuine than it felt.
He nodded, then advised her, "Go check on Lee, then let his dad know how he's doing."
She gave a quick nod, then stepped from the cell. She was careful to avoid him as she walked from the brig, and kept herself to a walk on the way to the life station. She couldn't wait to talk to Lee. He was never going to believe this.
Sharon looked around the gray room with its silver equipment and tried to stay calm. They had brought her here directly from the landing bay, and she hadn't seen anyone except guards with guns since she'd been placed here. She had done nothing but pace the small room since her arrival. She was scared, and cold, and she would have done anything to turn back the clock to a time before they suspected her of something unspeakable.
Sharon had thought that they might give her some credit if she helped rescue Lee. She had been wrong. It wasn't that she wouldn't have tried to help anyway - Lee was a pretty good guy once you got to know him a little bit - but deep inside she had been grasping at straws to try to find a way out of this.
When the hatch finally swung open, she saw more guards with more guns, but a short man dressed in hospital clothing was allowed through them. He stepped into the room, and they closed the door behind him.
"I'm Doctor Salik," he said quietly. Professionally.
She didn't say anything.
"They've told you why you're here?"
She nodded. Her throat was too tight to say anything.
"Your husband says that you're pregnant," the doctor continued. "Is that true."
She nodded. It seemed to be a good catch-all response.
"I will confirm that before the surgery," he told her. "How far along?"
"Two," she croaked, and then cleared her throat. "I've missed two cycles."
"The medications I'll use won't put the baby at risk. Actually, pregnancy would be a very good sign. I doubt that synthetic organisms could reproduce. They wouldn't be able to manage the cellular adjustments necessary. At least I wouldn't think so." He nodded and moved towards her. She couldn't help but jump. "I need to explain the procedure," he said simply, and walked past her to take a chair next to a small desk in the corner. He turned the chair towards her before he continued speaking. "We will be taking a small biopsy," he told her. "We drill a small hole in the skull, insert a plastic tube, and take out a small bit of tissue. Then we patch the skull, sew you up, and you'll wake up a few minutes later feeling pretty lousy.
"What will it do to me? Will I forget anything?"
He smiled at that. "I won't be taking any tissue from vital areas. There are a number of parts of the brain that are really not very active. There shouldn't be any permanent side-effects."
She rubbed her arms with her hands, trying to get warm. She wondered if they would ever restore heat to the Galactica, or if they'd just use fuel for transport. It seemed a pointless thought, but it was easier to concentrate on being cold than on being a monster.
"I'm not a Cylon," she said softly. "I can't be. I remember growing up, and my parents, and school. It was real. I'm still friends with the people I grew up with, or I was until they were killed in the war."
"I hope you're right," the doctor told her.
"How sure will you be?"
The doctor reached into a desk and took out a large photograph. He handed it to her without any explanation. She took the picture, blinking a few times to focus through the tears that just wouldn't seem to go away, but wouldn't spill over either.
In the picture there were many people. There were blond women who looked identical to one another, balding men that likewise matched, and towards the back of the group two women who could have been her. It wasn't a mistake. The people were all carrying weapons, marching towards the camera with guns pointed and some firing. These were Cylons. She didn't have to be told. And two of them looked exactly like her.
"Oh, God," she said softly. "It can't be true."
"We'll know in a few hours," he told her simply. Reaching into the pocket of his clothing, he withdrew a syringe that contained a clear liquid. "Do I need to have security here?" he asked her.
She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them to look at him. "I have a little boy," she told him softly. "I found him on Caprica, and he's stayed with me or my husband since then."
He looked at her, but seemed to be waiting for her to finish. She tried to find the words to explain. "If I was a Cylon, would I love him? Would I love my husband?"
"I don't know what they're capable of," he said. "But I can't believe a race of creatures that would wipe out all of humanity would care about little boys."
She closed her eyes again, tears finally streaming from them. If this was true - if she was the enemy and didn't even know it - then she was a danger to her family. She was a danger to her friends. She was a danger to humanity itself.
"How long will it take to find out?"
"We remove the tissue, incinerate it, and then examine it. It won't take more than an hour to know for sure. The surgery will take longer than the analysis."
"If I am," she swallowed as her voice broke, then tried again. "If I'm one of them, can you be sure I don't wake up?"
The doctor looked at her with an almost kind expression. She got the feeling that he didn't like this any more than she did. "I'll take care of it," he promised.
"Good," she whispered. "I'd rather not know."
William Adama looked at his son with mixed emotions.
He looked horrible. He was off the life support equipment now, and that gave the Commander hope. His skin was reddened from exposure to the cold air of the planet, and his lips still had a bluish tinge, although that might be the oxygen mask they had on him.
But he was alive. The entire fleet had been put at risk for this, and Kara's life was essentially ruined, but his son was alive. He didn't know how to feel about it.
Lee shivered beneath the warming blankets they had put over him, his hands clutching convulsively on the sides of the bed. It was as though he couldn't rest, even in sleep.
The doctors were worried about skin damage, extremity damage, and lung damage from the long exposure to the cold. He had also been shot, and while the blood loss hadn't been significant, there was infection to consider.
Lee hadn't awoken yet. The doctors had said not to worry about it, that it would take time, but he would have very much liked to seen those eyes open before he had to leave for the jump. He didn't have a choice, though. Colonel Tigh was dealing with the Cylon threat - overseeing the surgery two rooms over - and his responsibility was to be in CIC to manage the jump. They were to leave within the hour, and Gaeta was already making calculations and plotting.
They would not know exactly the coordinates until moments before the jump. That was necessary to preserve the security of the trip, but he still didn't like doing things so quickly. They were simply waiting on a report that the last ship had been fueled, and then they would go. He wouldn't relax until that happened, and at the same time he was dreading it.
Truthfully, he was so emotionally wrecked at the moment that he wasn't even sure of his competence. If it hadn't all been falling apart at once, he would have left Tigh to it, gone to his office, and gone to bed. He probably deserved that after three days of worry regarding the mission, losing his son, finding out they might have a Cylon plant right there among his pilots, losing both Kara and a potential Cylon to a mutiny, and then recovering all of it with essentially no effort on his part. He was still reeling.
He couldn't even feel a proper level of relief, because much of it wasn't over. They still didn't know if Valerii was a Cylon. He still didn't know if his son was okay, and didn't know if he would be able to keep Kara out of jail. All this, and they still weren't safe. They wouldn't be until the jump, which was potentially dangerous in its own right due to the distance and unfamiliarity with the system.
He leaned over and touched his son's forehead; it was the only part of him that he could reach between the warming covers and the mask. Perhaps it was easier with him asleep after all. He didn't look forward to breaking the news about Kara. Lee would feel responsible of course; he wouldn't be able to prevent that. Whether for getting shot or being so close to Kara that she couldn't leave him, Adama didn't know. But he knew his son would take responsibility. That would be another battle.
With a final glance at his boy, he turned and left the sick bay and headed for CIC. They had a jump to complete, and then they needed to start looking for more fuel. There were some complaints about the temperature of the ships, and he couldn't do a thing about it while they were still rationing every drop of Tylium.
He couldn't do anything about most of the situations that were on his mind, but he could definitely ensure that this jump went off without a hitch. That was all he could do, but he would do it and he would do it well. And then he'd take the rest of it as he had to.
Kara stared at the ceiling of the brig and sighed. She'd been here for hours. The fleet had jumped, and still they hadn't sent for her or let her know what was going on. She knew she couldn't expect them to - she was only a prisoner after all - but she still hated being out of the loop.
She supposed it shouldn't matter. They had made the jump, so they were safe from any damage she might have caused by her rash behavior. Knowing this made it a lot easier to live with the decision. She still needed to know that Lee was okay, but at least the gnawing guilt that had submersed her when she'd been placed here had receded to a bearable level. She hadn't destroyed all of them. Maybe, if she could manage it, she would only have destroyed herself. That she could live with.
She didn't get much warning when Adama and Tigh walked into the brig. She stood quickly, as much from agitation as from respect or tradition. If she had ever been afraid, it was now.
"Lieutenant Thrace," the Commander said softly.
"Yes, Sir."
He sighed softly. "Kara, I don't know whether to court martial you or thank you, and it's a hell of a feeling."
"I'm sorry, Sir." It seemed inadequate, but it was all she had.
"Are you really?"
She looked at him, and found she couldn't lie. "I'm sorry that I placed the fleet in danger," she admitted. "And I'm sorry that I got others in trouble for helping me. I'm also sorry I made this worse on Sharon, because she hasn't done anything wrong." She paused a moment, then finished. "I can't be sorry I went back. I couldn't leave him. I'll stand by that decision."
"This isn't just hitting someone," he said almost gently. "This isn't something I can talk around or hide. You committed an act of treason in wartime. And you did it in front of the whole crew. Everyone on the bridge knows that Lee was gone, you took the Raptor, and now Lee's back. Hell, if you'd been any slower jumping we would have shot you out of the sky. I can't make this go away."
"No, Sir," she said softly. "I don't expect you to."
He stood looking at her a moment, then took his glasses off to rub at his eyes. He looked absolutely exhausted. There were dark circles beneath his bloodshot eyes, and his body had a distinctive slump. She could tell what this was doing to him, and added another regret to an ever-growing list.
"Commander?" Tigh said suddenly.
"Yes," he said on a sigh, not even looking sideways at his XO.
"If Lieutenant Thrace had orders to return to the planet, would it make a difference?"
"She didn't," he said simply.
"She might have," he suggested.
Adama looked sideways at him, but said nothing.
"You were very upset," Tigh continued. "And I did have CIC until you got back. I. may have given an order to retrieve a lost man."
The Commander looked thoughtful. Kara was purely shocked.
"You wouldn't have ordered her to break a prisoner out of the brig," he said.
"No," Tigh offered. "But given the number of people it takes to set up a Raptor flight, it's unlikely that it could happen without orders. There's the mechanic, the flight controller, a pilot. And for a one-way mission - or likely that - I could see retaining our more experienced Raptor pilots. A prisoner would be more expendable."
Adama finally turned to face Tigh and put his glasses back on. "At this point, I have half a dozen men in various confinement," he said clearly. "My best pilot is in the brig, my crew chief is under house arrest, and three of my finest Viper pilots are confined to quarters. Are you telling me that they had permission for that behavior?"
"They might have," the XO said vaguely.
"Commander Adama," Kara began.
"Shut up, Starbuck," he said quickly, not taking his eyes off Tigh. "I know you wouldn't make this up, because you don't even like Lieutenant Thrace."
"No reason to make it up, Bill. Maybe I just. forgot. You weren't really in any condition to be giving orders, after all. You didn't even stay in CIC for more than a few minutes before you went back to your quarters. Makes sense that someone else might order her to clean up the mission. Maybe. the man who was in charge of that mission."
"Are you willing to put that in a report?" Adama asked carefully.
"I'd be happy to. Been a little busy for a while. I haven't logged anything just yet."
"See that you do, Colonel," Adama said with a wink. "And you," he said as he turned back to a very stunned Kara. "I want you to report to the life center. You've been on two missions to a hostile environment and still haven't been checked by the docs. And while you're there." His voice got a little think, but he managed to continue. "While you're there, I want you to check on my son. An old man can't keep running to the other end of the ship just to see if his son's awake."
Kara stood in stunned silence as the guard was called in and the cell door unlocked. She continued to stand there while the Commander walked away, leaving her standing there with Tigh. She didn't think she could have said anything if her life depended on it, and that was probably a first for her. She was rarely at a loss for words.
"I believe you were given an order," he said mildly. "You do follow them when they suit you, don't you?"
She swallowed twice, tried to speak, and had to swallow again. "Why?"
"I assume you'd follow them to keep out of trouble," he said, deliberately ignoring her question.
She didn't let it slide. She had never liked Tigh, never trusted him. She gave him a minimum of respect only because he was close to Adama and appeared to genuinely care about him. She had never given him any reason to go out on a limb for her, and she had given him many reasons not to. "Why?" she repeated.
"You can't just." he began, but she cut him off.
"Why?"
He looked at her for a moment, then let out a compressed breath. "He's been through enough," he said simply. "He doesn't need this."
She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what she could say. This didn't take away the last three years of him being an asshole. She wished that it did. In essence, it only confirmed a very selfish nature. He didn't want his friend to suffer.
But she hadn't seen him take a drink in over a year. He carried his weight on the bridge, and sometimes the Commander's as well. He'd been good to Lee, and so far as she knew he hadn't thrown over any tables or thrown any of her friends in the brig for quite some time. She knew that she had changed since the beginning of the war, so it seemed reasonable that he might have changed as well. Maybe. Or maybe he had his own motives. Either way, Adama had told her once to give him a break, and maybe it was time to do that.
Whatever his reasons, he'd just given her both gift and curse. He'd saved her ass, and her career, and those of many of her friends. His motives might be anything, but whether for or against her she was now indebted to him. She really hated that. She didn't like to owe anyone, for anything, but especially not him. And yet it was a gift she could not afford to refuse.
"Thank you," she said softly, hoping it sounded more genuine than it felt.
He nodded, then advised her, "Go check on Lee, then let his dad know how he's doing."
She gave a quick nod, then stepped from the cell. She was careful to avoid him as she walked from the brig, and kept herself to a walk on the way to the life station. She couldn't wait to talk to Lee. He was never going to believe this.