Inevitable Changes

By Crystal Wimmer

*Author's note — This story deals with adult themes, and contains language, sexual situations, and violence. If you've read it before, I recommend reading it a second time from chapter 3 onwards some major additions and changes have been made following consultation with an expert on these subjects. Thanks Min!

Chapter 1

Lee was sick and tired of moving slowly and stiffly. He was ready to get his bum leg replaced, hop back into a cockpit, and get the hell out from behind this desk. At the very least, he was ready to get up early and run with Kara while she made her daily laps of the Galactica. He'd settle for just being able to stand and sit without groaning. God, he felt old.

Three months ago he had come damn close to losing more than just a healthy leg. He had been an inch away from freezing to death, shot in the leg, and left by his own men to die or be captured by Cylons. That was pure fact. Well, it was true anyway, if not exactly the facts as they were meant to occur.

They had been on a long-shot mission, and he had managed to collect a Cylon shot to the outside of his right thigh. It hadn't killed him, but it had sent him down and delayed him enough that his crew had needed to leave him behind for the good of the fleet. Hours later, defying orders and putting her career and that of many others on the line, Kara had shown up to drag him — literally — back to life.

He was grateful. He was more than grateful, really. He had no reason that he should be alive, and yet here he was behind a desk in CIC, trying to make sense out of status reports on the Tylium mine they were currently manning and the subsequent processing of the fuel. He should be thrilled to be working at all. He wasn't.

He was bored. He had never really liked desk-work, even when he'd been teaching at the academy. The practical instruction was fine, and he hadn't even minded the lecturing, but he absolutely hated the grading and filing and reports that he'd had to write. He wasn't a sedentary person. He didn't like to sit. Even once he'd taken a regular flight assignment, he had managed to do most of his reports on the go. A clipboard in hand, jotting as he walked, the paperwork eventually blended into a moving, eventful job.

Now he was not moving. Now he was stuck. And now he was just about finished putting up with it.

Salik had told him six weeks at a minimum to recover. But that had been before they'd had to go back in and remove tissue that had not been healing. Then he was told a month more. By Lee's calculations, that would have been more than a week ago, but he was still stiff and certain positions were still painful. And he was still on that damn bottom bunk.

He shouldn't complain about that either. Kara had given up her bed for him, and it had resulted in a couple of fun mornings when she'd rolled off his upper bunk and landed on the floor at his side. Lords, but that woman could cuss with the best of them! She hadn't been hurt, but she was quick to blame it all on him and grumble sufficiently to make it interesting. Best yet, those early mornings she had refused to climb back up the ladder and had just laid down with him until it was time or her to run. They had taken more than a couple of strange looks from a few of the pilots in quarters, but no one had the bad form to question the CAG when a lieutenant lay down in his bed for a couple of hours.

Truthfully, those were the good moments of his convalescence. Early morning, quiet quarters, dim lights, and Kara curled up in his arms. It hadn't happened often — maybe three or four times at the most — but some days it was what kept him going. Kara wasn't much to look at when decked out in flight gear, but snuggled up next to him in her underwear she was as female as they came. He was quite sure that more than one pilot in quarters was a bit jealous, and for once he was glad of the duel status of CAG and Commander's son so that he didn't have to make a lot of explanations.

So he didn't. He just took the mornings as they came, watched wistfully as she dressed in shorts and a running bra for her morning exercise, and wondered silently if there were any way to prop her mattress sideways so that the opportunity would present itself more often.

"Captain Apollo?" Lieutenant Dualla called him again. She had her hand on his arm, and the expression on her face said that she had been trying to get his attention for more than a couple of minutes. Daydreaming was going to get him into trouble.

"Yes?"

"The Commander wants to see you in his quarters," she said with a slight smile. He could only imagine what expression had been on his face as he imagined wedges and props to send his favorite pilot rolling to the floor.

"Thank you," he said simply, and stood painfully to begin the short walk to his father's room.

Once there he found the door open, so he merely stuck his head in to find Adama, Kara, and the Chief all staring at him. How long had it taken Dee to get his attention, anyway? "You asked to see me?" he asked unnecessarily.

"Come in and shut the hatch," his father told him. He did so. Quickly. Then he tossed a questioning look at Kara to see if she was any better informed than he was. The raised eyebrow and shrugged shoulder she gave him let him know that she was also in the dark.

"I don't want to keep Lieutenant Thrace from her duties," Adama said with a wink. "So let's get this started."

"Yeah, who knows what would happen if I was late rewiring that old bucket of bolts that Tyrol found for me," Kara grumbed as she aimed a glare at the Chief. She had been grounded since her little stunt of rescuing Lee, and she wasn't any happier about her situation than he was about his. Neither of them were meant to be outside a spacecraft for long.

"It may have to wait quite a while," the Commander said with a nod. "I have something in mind for the two of you."

"Flying?" Kara asked eagerly. She looked like she was ready to start bouncing up and down. She was a pilot to the marrow of her bones.

"Not specifically," he corrected. "But yes, you will have to fly down to the planet in order to accomplish the assignment."

"What is it?" Lee asked, taking a seat on the edge of his father's desk and holding his breath so as not to release a sound. He didn't want anyone to know how much pain he was in. He was as ready to get off the Galactica as Kara was.

"We're having some trouble with the mining operation," his father began, and Lee's spirits plummeted. He didn't know a damn thing about Tylium processing. "But the problem is with the men, not with the operation."

"What kind of problem?" Kara asked. She was sitting at the foot of Adama's bed, the only other place to sit besides his father's chair.

"Primarily discipline," Adama admitted. He took a deep breath and let it out as a sigh. "Our miners have never been the most genteel of sorts, but even the warriors I've sent down there are coming back with broken bones. We finally replaced an entire garrison with our own people, but the situation hasn't improved. In fact, it's actually worsened. We can't get the miners to accept the authority of the warriors, and the transport pilots are ready to start a war."

"What does that have to do with us?" Kara asked, flashing Lee a confused look.

"I need people down there I can trust. Lee, I selected you because our miners are military. They at least have some respect for rank, if nothing else. There aren't many Captains left in the service. And Starbuck, the pilots will respect your flight record because it's practically legend. Between the two of you, there should be enough authority to calm the situation down."

"Why don't you just separate the team?" Lee asked. "Split up the trouble makers."

"We don't know who they are," Adama admitted. "There aren't a large number of Tylium experts, though, even if we did know what part of the team was causing the problem. That's actually part of why you're going down. I need someone who can look at the group from the outside and see if it's a problem with the whole team, or if it's just one or two that need to be pulled. We need every Tylium miner we can get, and I don't want to penalize anyone if there only guilt is in being too afraid to report the real problem."

"We aren't security," Kara remarked. "I mean, we have basic skills as warriors, but our fighting is done from a Viper. I haven't had to keep law and order since I was teaching at the academy."

"Me either," Lee added.

"You're wrong," Tyrol interjected. "You keep order in the flight crew every day, just by being there. Same thing with you, Starbuck. You don't take any garbage, and they know it, so they don't even try to throw it at you anymore."

Kara gave a slight grin. She did have a wicked right hook, as more than one of the pilots had found out over the years. But in general, she had spoken the truth. Neither of them were really well versed in hand-to-hand combat, and he was sporting a sore leg on top of it.

"Another issue," Adama continued as he looked through a few sheets on his desk, "Is the need for pilots up here. We have tankers and shuttles running almost around the clock transporting the Tylium to holding stores. We may need it badly in the future. Neither of you are currently on flight status, so you're my best option to manage the situation planet-side."

"Great," Kara muttered.

"I can always put you back on the junkers," Tyrol said innocently. "If you'd rather not leave the Galactica, that is."

"Oh, no you don't!" she corrected with a glare.

He shrugged, Adama smiled, and Lee just wondered what kind of a mess they were getting into.

"What kind of trouble — exactly — is going on down at the planet?" he asked.

Adama looked him in the eye and the slight amusement that had been there faded. "Primarily assaults," he said carefully. "We've had three attacks in as many days, and no one is telling us who or why. I can't be sure any other security personnel that I send down won't be just as tight lipped. I need to know what's going on down there, and why. This is only the first of what will be many operations for acquiring fuel if we are to survive. I don't want to keep going through this every time we stop on a planet. I need for the crews to realize that the authority on this ship extends to any planet we occupy. That's where you come in."

It wasn't what he would have liked in the way of action, but to Lee it was better than sitting behind a desk. "When do we leave?" he asked simply.

"As soon as you can throw together a few uniforms. You'll be down there until the mission concludes — ten days, give or take a couple. We want as much Tylium out of that mine as we can possibly carry. I don't want a repeat of what happened a few months ago."

"Beats the hell out of retooling ancient spacecraft," Kara muttered. "Count me in, too."

"Go ahead and get your things together, Starbuck. I have a few things I want to go over with Apollo as leader of the team."

She nodded, gave a quick salute, and headed out the hatch. As soon as it closed, Lee turned to his father with suspicion. "What can't you say in front of Kara?" he asked point blank.

The Chief laughed. They sometimes forgot that Adama was his father, and it was pretty hard for the old man to put anything over on his kids. But the Commander's look squelched Tyrol's laughter almost immediately.

"This is on a need to know' basis only, Captain," he told his son.

"Yes, Sir. But if Kara's going to be down there with me, she may need to know."

"She may, but I'd rather you knew it first."

Lee nodded, but didn't say anything.

"There have been three assaults," the Commander stated. "One of the victims is dead. The other two have not regained consciousness. That's one reason that we haven't been able to identify the party responsible."

"Understood," Lee responded, but he knew there must be more.

"One was a woman. She was in her early forties, very fit, and one of our most efficient miners." He looked up at his son, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. "She was raped, and then murdered."

"Go on," Lee prompted. His face was as deadly serious as his father's.

"The other two were men. One was a miner, and the other a security guard. Neither has recovered enough to regain consciousness."

Lee thought about that for a moment. Then he considered what must be the primitive living conditions of the temporary mining base. "I don't think Kara should go," he said simply. "Not if she'd be at risk."

"She won't be the only one," the Commander said softly. "Both men were largely built, and each was a trained fighter. The miner has been in similar circumstances before, and is known to be able to take care of himself. The security guard was trained at the academy on Caprica."

"So why send a woman down there?"

"Because there are a number of women on the mining team. If any of them knows anything, they would be more likely to speak to another woman than to you. It's a long shot, but it's all we have."

"It's not safe," Lee insisted.

"No, it's not," Adama agreed. "That's why you're going with her. If anyone will keep her close, it's you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lee asked quietly. Very quietly.

"Only that you've known her a long time. She knows you, trusts you, and listens to you better than anyone else, for what that's worth. She'll also be sharing sleeping quarters with the person who goes down there with her, and I thought she'd be more comfortable with you."

Lee blushed slightly, but didn't comment. "I can't promise she'll follow my orders any better than anyone else's. She isn't very good at listening."

"No, she's not. But the other reasons I sighted are correct as well. I need an officer down there that can't be bought off, can't be run off, and won't be as much a danger as a help. I can trust you for that. At the moment, I'm not a very trusting man."

Lee sighed. He didn't like this. At all. "So we go down, we supervise, and we keep our eyes and ears open. That's all?"

"That's all I need to say with regards to the mission itself," the Commander said. "The rest is about you."

"What about me?" Lee asked in confusion.

"Can you fly?" Tyrol asked simply.

Lee's attention flew to the crew chief. "What do you think?" he said wryly.

"I think you still have a decided limp," Tyrol told him. "If I need to make any modifications to the Viper controls, or if you can't fly and I need to equip a Raptor for Kara to take you down, then you need to tell me."

Lee closed his eyes in frustration. He hadn't hidden the pain as well as he had thought.

"I know you aren't in top form for this," Adama admitted. "But you're my best chance of figuring it out. We don't have a police force anymore. The military is the only thing between some semblance of law and total chaos. Too many of our fleet seem to think that laws were destroyed with the Colonies. Without a civilian police force, they don't think there are any rules left to follow — not even those simplest to the maintenance of a society. We cannot let people start tearing one another apart."

"I agree," Lee said softly. "I'll do my best. I'll also do my best to express to Kara how serious this is. Maybe if she knows, she'll be more inclined to stay close instead of rushing off headlong into who knows what." He turned to Tyrol. "I can fly," he said simply. "But getting in and out of the cockpit are going to be a challenge. I can probably do it here, but there aren't any ladders down on the planet. I guess you'd probably better set up a Raptor or a shuttle."

Tyrol nodded to him and to the Commander, then left to get started.

"Lee?" Adama said softly as he headed for the door.

"Yeah?"

"Before your last mission, I asked Kara to be sure you came back," he admitted. "It's something I regret only because it was something she had no control over. When I ask you to look out for her, I want you to understand that I realize there are things you can't control."

"I know," Lee told him with a small smile. "And Kara knew it, too. I can't tell you why she came back, but I can assure you that it wasn't because she felt obligated to you. It's just who she is."

"And you're much the same way," he replied with a smile that matched his son's. "Have I told you that I'm proud of you?"

Lee was taken aback at that. His father wasn't one to lavish praise on a person, and he didn't know why this was coming up now. "You pinned on a gold cluster," he said, trying to make it into a joke. "I think I figured it out."

Adama shook his head. "I don't mean as a Commander," he corrected. "Although I'd be damn proud to have any officer of your caliber under my command. I mean as your father. You've turned out to be a hell of a lot more than just a fine officer. You're a responsible and intelligent young man. Whether or not you ever pilot a Viper again, I want you to know that I'm proud of you."

Lee thought about that for a moment. He thought about all that his father was and was not saying. While he appreciated the sentiment, he wasn't ready to hand in his wings just yet. "Thank you," he finally replied.

He could have told his father that he'd been pretty good himself, but he didn't know if it was the truth. Adama hadn't been around very much when Lee had been growing up. He and Zak, and Kara for that matter, had mostly been raised by his mother. Sure, Adama had a couple of ground assignments, but for the most part they had left him restless and short with his family rather than giving them all time to get to know one another. Some men just weren't made for home and hearth, and William Adama was one of them. It hadn't meant that he didn't love them, but it had taken Lee a long time to realize that. Most of his childhood had been spent trying to become what his father would be proud of — to earn a bit of the coveted attention that was usually reserved for his crew rather than his family.

But sometime over the years, Lee had just decided to be himself. He'd made a place for himself in the service because he loved to fly, and it allowed him access to the fastest and most technologically advanced spacecraft available. He had joined the Colonial Service because it had recognized his achievements based on his merit, not on some imaginary potential that Lee had never really understood. He had joined because he had found others like himself — men and women who just wanted to fly, and didn't mind serving the Colonies for the privilege.

So he wouldn't lie to his father. He wouldn't say what a great dad he'd been, or how happy he was to finally be recognized for the son he had wanted to be, even if it had been an unconscious wish. He simply reached out and shook his father's hand, man to man, and then left him to his office.

He had a number of things to do before he made it down to the planet. He had uniforms to pack and gear to organize. He needed to be sure they had the Raptor equipped with the weapons they might need, and that they were secured so they couldn't be used against them. He needed to check out side arms from the armory, to be sure that he and Kara could defend themselves if the need arose. And at some point, he needed to figure out how to tell Kara just how much danger she really would be in once they were down on the planet.