Chapter 2

Kara Thrace eased herself behind the controls of the Raptor with a feeling of coming home. It wasn't a Viper — not by a long shot — but beggars couldn't be choosers.

It felt good just to be in a pilot's seat. Rightfully, she shouldn't be. Lee was the lead pilot, and she was finding it almost difficult not to be glad that he was injured. After all, it was that injury that put her in the pilot's seat, and it was the one place she wanted to be above all else. No, she didn't really want Lee hurt, but she was damn glad that she was the one doing the flying.

"We clear?" He asked as he took the seat at the back of the Raptor. She noticed a slight grimace as he sat down, but at least he'd managed to get up into the hatch himself and wasn't limping unless you were really looking for it.

"Waiting," she told him as she checked with control for a second time.

"That's affirmative," the disembodied voice came back, pleasant as always. "Raptor two-four-two, ready for take-off. Be safe."

Kara smiled at that. Maybe it wasn't a standard flight command, but she appreciated Dee's sentiment just the same.

"Raptor two-four-two, launching."

She waited for the flight deck to rise up into the pod, and then released the magnetic locks on the Raptor and increased power to the engines. As she felt them lose contact with the surface of the flight deck, she couldn't hold back a sigh of relief.

"Better?" Lee asked her. She could practically hear the smile in his voice, but it didn't bother her. He understood.

"Almost as good as sex," she fired back, and immediately wished that she'd kept her mouth shut.

Lee didn't take offense, but instead laughed gently. He probably agreed, but she wasn't going to give him the opportunity to comment on it.

"This will be a short flight," she informed him. "They have the fleet orbiting pretty tight."

"Small planet," Lee explained. "It has a pretty limited atmosphere. We're tucked in close because there isn't much of a gravitational pull. You have to get close to hold orbit."

"Check," she acknowledged. "By the way, do they know we're coming?"

"Yeah," he answered. She noted that he was coming in loud and clear through only the right side of her communication headset. That meant they were on a sealed frequency, only the two of them privy to the chat rather than sharing the information with all of CIC and anyone else who happened to have a wireless on. The direct line was wired internally to the Raptor, and designed for use so that the pilots could communicate without any possibility of an enemy picking up their conversation.

"And what kind of reception will we get?"

Lee paused a moment before answering. She didn't know if he was just thinking, or if he was reluctant to tell her. "I'm not sure," he finally said, and she knew it was the former. "The Commander didn't exactly give them a choice in the matter. He just told them that as a military operation — as all operations are in the absence of a true civilian government — that he wanted his people on site."

"So we definitely weren't invited," she reasoned.

"Nope."

"Frak."

"That about sums it up."

She gave an internal groan as she reached for the controls to begin landing procedures. She hadn't been kidding about a short flight. Still, a short flight was better than no flight. She felt like an addict that had gotten a tiny fix. Better, but by no means good. She was going to have to convince Adama that she was ready to go back into Vipers. Even routine patrols would help get rid of the constant gnawing need she had to be in space.

"Raptor two-four-two to Onyx Base," she said clearly, changing to an open frequency almost unconsciously. "We are in range for landing."

"Roger, Raptor two-four-two," a grainy male voice returned. "Your field is clear. Land at will."

"Check," she said simply, and began landing procedures. Lee was silent as he monitored systems and gently adjusted fuel levels so that she could concentrate on her location in space and rate of descent. They really didn't need to talk. Even though they hadn't specifically flown a Raptor together in the past, each knew what had to be done and would do so without reminding or discussing. She found it a very refreshing change.

The one thing she had always dreaded most about Raptors was that things were more manageable with a second pilot. She didn't like to rely on anyone to fly. A Raptor could of course be flown solo, but it was a real handful. That was one of the reasons that Sharon had been given the cluster for her service. Flying a Raptor with no co-pilot, and more specifically jumping with no co-pilot, was a hell of a feat for a rookie. Kara wouldn't even consider trying it without a whole lot of practice first.

They touched down without so much as a bump, and Kara smiled in satisfaction. She might be a Viper pilot, but she hadn't forgotten the basics.

"Nice," Lee said softly, in her right ear again.

"Still got it," she said back.

Between the two of them, they were able to shut down systems in record time. Lee checked on the ammunition that they had secured beneath the cabin area, making sure that it was locked in tight and the compartment was not visible. Unless the miners or security were Raptor pilots or mechanics, they probably wouldn't even know the compartment was there. Kara hoped they wouldn't need the extra ammunition and explosives, but Adama had wanted them well armed, just in case something went badly wrong.

"Gear secure," Lee told her. His headset was off, and he was just calling across the compartment.

"Thanks," she told him, glad that she wouldn't have to check it for herself. "Can you get your bag or do I need to?"

It was an innocent question, and probably not too far out of line given the injury he was still recovering from, but the note in Lee's voice told her she had crossed some invisible line. "I can carry my own clothes," he ground out. "How about your sidearm? Do I need to carry that for you?"

She looked up to glare at him. "I was just being nice," she muttered. "It won't happen again."

Lee took a deep breath and let it out as a sigh. "And I'm just being over sensitive," he admitted. "Thanks for the offer, but I can manage."

She left it at that, grabbed her own bag, and released the hatch on the Raptor. She didn't offer to help Lee down, but instead let him jump the last couple of feet on his own. He put his bag down to do it, using his arms on the hatch to reduce the weight to his leg, but otherwise his exit was reasonably normal. He grabbed his bag once he was on the ground.

She was about to ask who was meeting them when she saw a burly man coming towards them. He was filthy from head to toe, and the look on his face was a long way from friendly. "Welcome to Onyx," he told them, the words at odds with his expression. "I'll take you to your quarters."

Kara glanced over at Lee, but he seemed as confused as she was by the irregular reception. "Are you the mining team leader?" Lee asked him.

"Not me," the man said, his expression softening a bit. "Cops is still in the mine. We hit a snag and he's trying to unravel it so we can get this done. I'm Dooler, in charge of security."

It explained his irritation at their presence. They were essentially coming in because he couldn't do his job. "Great," Lee threw in, his voice actually sounding genuine. "Then you can get us briefed on what's going on and where we need to start to get it cleaned up."

"I could," he admitted, but didn't offer any more information on the topic. "I didn't know you were bringing a female," he observed. "We only have one unit available."

"One unit is fine," Lee told him. "Warriors share quarters when necessary. There are two mats, correct?"

Dooler looked back at them. "Yeah."

"Then we'll be fine," Kara put in, not liking the fact that they were talking about her like an inconvenience rather than an officer. Her voice brought Dooler's gaze around to her, but he didn't speak.

"Here it is," he finally told them. It locks from the inside. I recommend you keep it that way after dark. It gets a little wild around here."

"So we've heard," Lee told him. Kara kept quiet, because she didn't think she'd manage to do anything but annoy the chauvinistic Dooler, and they needed information too much to alienate the man. "Is that how security is managing the assaults? Locking themselves in their units?"

Dooler's look was just this side of furious, and frankly she didn't blame him. Lee had just accused him of not doing his job — point blank — and even she would have been a little more diplomatic than that.

"I've got one guard in the Life Station because he tried to step into that mess after Kathy was killed. I don't plan on losing any others. So yeah, we lock our doors. If everyone would do it, no one would be around as prey."

"Prey?"

"Yeah," he told them. "If you're out after the drinking starts, they'll take you out."

"Who will?" Lee asked.

Dooler shrugged. "Whoever is running this outfit. I don't know, and I don't plan to find out. This assignment is going to be over in a week or two anyway. I just want to keep my crew alive until then. Next time they mine a planet, they can get some other idiot to run it."

"Well, don't worry," Lee told him, irritation clear in his voice. "I'll see to it that you aren't bothered."

Dooler looked at him a minute, then gestured Kara inside the unit. She decided to take the gesture in the way it was intended and she left the "men" to sort it out. That didn't mean she couldn't listen, though.

"I'd keep that girl locked up," Dooler recommended quickly. "She ain't half as big as Kathy, and she wouldn't have a chance against them. She's also a damn sight prettier than Kathy, so even in the daytime I'd be careful about leaving her alone. Be sure she's armed, and don't let her out of calling distance."

Lee was quiet for a long moment. It took all of her control not to but back out of the shelter to set him straight, but Kara managed it. This was one time that the direct approach wouldn't get her as much information as stealth. "So it's the ladies at risk?" she heard Lee ask.

"Primarily," Dooler admitted. "But you keep your gun close, too. They'll take out anyone smaller than they are, and they don't work alone. In the mines they're okay, but once the drinking starts at night, anyone is fair game."

"They have alcohol?"

Dooler was silent a minute. "Look, this ain't like the Galactica where they can get into your stuff and be sure you're following the rules. Miners are a tough bunch, and they work hard. They figure they can do what they want because there aren't many of them. My guys, some of them, are learning the trade, too. They're in the mines now. It's safer to join their games than to try to go against them. They'll even go after their own, and they have. Killed one, but not before they" he trailed off, then finished. "Just keep that girl damn close."

Lee didn't answer, but somehow they must have ended the conversation because she didn't hear Dooler again and Lee entered the unit, obligingly locking it after he did so. She just looked at him.

"Better safe than sorry," he muttered, and tossed his bag into a corner. She had done the same when she had come in.

It didn't seem to be the time to question him, so she turned her attention to the unit itself. "All the comforts of home," she muttered, looking at the cloth floor, two thin mats, and several well worn blankets that at least looked clean."

Lee looked at her a moment, and she wondered what was on his mind. He normally didn't look so intent. "It'll probably be more comfortable if we stack the mats," he finally said. "If you don't mind sleeping close, that is."

She nodded. She'd had the same idea herself. "It'd be warmer, too," she added. "Probably gets cold when the sun goes down."

He nodded avidly, and she thought they must look ridiculous as their heads bobbed up and down in time. "And I sleep a little better when I'm warm," Lee put in.

Kara finally just stopped and grinned. "We're making an awful lot of excuses for this," she told him. "Do you think something's wrong with it?"

His head went from a nod to a shake in record time. "Nothing's wrong with it," he defended.

"So why are we justifying it like we're trying to keep out of the brig?"

He finally smiled with her. "Probably has something to do with the looks we get in quarters," he admitted.

"It's not their business," Kara told him.

"True, but I'm supposed to be setting the example, and they know it."

"You are," she told him, her smile widening. "There's more than one couple double-bunked in quarters. It was inevitable. If you put women and men together for a long enough time with no other options, they're going to pair up. At least some of them will."

"That's not exactly the same," he argued.

"Does it bother you that they do?

Lee thought about that a moment. "No," he finally said. "It's their business. So long as they get to work on time, and do their jobs while they're there, then it really has nothing to do with me."

"Exactly," she agreed. "So if they aren't our business, then we aren't their business."

He gave a shrug, but she had the feeling that the matter wasn't completely settled for him. She wasn't going to push it. The last thing she wanted to do was make him change his mind. While it had seemed comical the way they had discussed it — bouncing excuses off one another back and forth — each of the reasons they had sited was absolutely true. It was cold at night, and they did sleep better together. For that matter, the nights she'd spent with him were some of the few that she'd managed to get through without nightmares or simply waking up every twenty minutes to listen. He made her feel safe, and that was a rare feeling since the war had begun. She would take the feeling wherever she could get it.

"What do you think of this Dooler guy?" Lee asked as he dragged one thin mat over to cover the other.

She shrugged one shoulder. "Not sure," she admitted. "Doesn't sound like any security guard I've ever known."

"And he wasn't exactly tiny," Lee commented, now reaching for the blankets that were folded at the foot of the top mat. She reached out to help him straighten them out without thought.

"Size isn't an indicator of strength," she reminded him.

"Don't I know it," he told her with a wink.

She grinned, but didn't drop the discussion. "And what about the booze? Where would they get it?"

"Alcohol is easy enough to manufacture," he reasoned. "All you need is a still. Or if you don't have that, fruit juice and time. Both are readily available on the Galactica. There's also the chance that they've found some kind of a store, or withheld it from the inspections we've made on the ships. We tried to get it all dumped, but there are a limited number of people and not everyone we dealt with was cooperative."

"So, we know already that we have nasty miners, lazy security, and alcohol thrown into the mix. Why doesn't your father just pull the plug? They can't be the only people willing to mine Tylium for the fleet."

"Actually, they pretty much are," he corrected. They had straightened the blankets on the bed, and Kara sat down on the mats while she listened. Lee remained standing as he talked. "Mining Tylium is as much an art as a trade. The way the rocks hold it takes as much instinct as skill to get it out. Sure, we could tear the whole mountain apart, but we don't have the equipment or the time for that, and we'd lose a lot of it in the process. These guys are quick, and they know their stuff. Some of them have been doing it for generations back. They learned it from their fathers and grandfathers."

"Sounds dull," she admitted, looking up at him with a curious expression. "You don't want to sit?"

He gave her a wry grin. "I'm wondering just how much it'll hurt to get down there," he admitted. "And then there's getting up."

She shook her head in exasperation. "You could just ask, you dolt," she said briskly. Standing, she offered him a hand to use as a support to get himself down. He winced a bit, but didn't make a sound. She figured that was the best they could hope for. He stretched out his sore leg, shifted a bit, and finally just laid down on the mats.

"Comfortable?" she asked with amusement.

"Not often," he admitted, giving her an honest answer where she hadn't expected one. She had been sarcastic in her comment, but his reply was dead serious. "But it's getting better."

"Were you really ready for this mission, or just ready to do something?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I don't think I could stand another day sitting in CIC and shuffling paperwork. I don't know how they do it and stay sane."

"They aren't you," she explained, laying down beside him. He had his hands behind his head as a makeshift pillow, so she borrowed one elbow for hers.

"Lucky them," he muttered.

"Feeling sorry for yourself?" she asked him softly. He had every right, after all, even if it wasn't like him.

"No," he told her a moment later. "Right now I'm feeling pretty good."

She turned her head to look at him and found he had done the same. Face to face, they looked at each other for a moment before he lifted his head and planted a soft kiss on one side of her forehead. She smiled as he laid his head back down and just relaxed for a moment. She had to admit that she was feeling pretty good at the moment, too.