Fair warning doesn't always mean fair fight.  Boubacar Messaoud Kobol, Sixth Lord of Kobol

At Colonel Tigh's order, Chief Tyrol caught Lee just as he returned from his morning convoy patrol.  Pulling him into the port maintenance bay's tool room, Tyrol told Lee his father's plan and relayed Tigh's request to provide secret shuttle service.

"He's crazy," Lee said, meaning his father not Colonel Tigh.

"Yes, sir.  Couldn't agree more, but you know the Commander, sir.  There's no changing his mind once it's made up."

Lee knew.

On the trip out from Galactica, Lee kept quiet while Suben and the Commander chatted about the Star Chaser's engines.  He hadn't bothered to disagree since his father frequently pulled rank to win arguments.  It was one of the more unpleasant things about serving under him on the Galactica.

But, as Lee reminded himself for the fourth time in the last ten minutes, unlike most people in their convoy of refugees he still had a father and -- Lords save us all for raving fools – he loved the crazy old bastard.  And the old bastard loved him back.

So on the first leg of the journey Lee thought mostly about Kara's broad, sunny smile and what she was going to look like in a party dress.  He also thought about how he'd get her out of it later on.  It helped pass the time.

On the way back, Lee had something more pressing on his mind -- the crowded scene that had been below him in the Star Chaser's passageway.  There had been far too many people for a repair party and two of them had looked more like half-civilized mountain apes than crew.

It nagged at him.  There had been something seriously wrong.  The more he thought about it the clearer it became.

By the time Lee landed the Three One Two on the Galactica and debarked, throwing an absentminded acknowledgment to Chief Tyrol's punctilious salute, he'd made up his mind.  He was going back.  But he'd need help and it had to be someone he could trust.  His chrono. said fifteen twenty-seven.  Kara must be up by now.  He'd grab her and fill her in.  After that he'd check in with Tigh for anything new.

Lee had been on duty twelve hours and really should be going off, but it wasn't the first double shift he'd pulled this week.  Adrenalin would keep him functional for a few hours more.

Kara wasn't hard to find.  As usual on her time off, she was in the pilots' rec. compartment, stripped half way to her skivvies and playing cards.  And judging from the sour faces around her table, she was winning.

Everyone held a cup of the galley's atrocious recycled-water coffee, but most of them weren't drinking it.  The rec. compartment smelled almost as bad as the gymnasium.

"Boss man!" Kara cried as Lee walked in.  "I mean, Captain Adama, sir!  Pull up a chair and let me beat the pants off you."

He had no time for humor.  "Let's go," was all he said.

All the pilots in the compartment straightened up.  When the CAG said "Jump" everyone was supposed to ask "How high?"  Lee realized he must look like a storm cloud needing a place to rain.  After Ragnar, on Lee's first day or two as CAG, most of these pilots had ignored him.  Just yesterday and today, they'd begun to come around.  Kara's enthusiastic friendship probably had a lot to do with that.

Glancing around, Lee shook his head and told them, "It's nothing.  As you were.  Kara, let's go!"  With a cupping wave he beckoned her away.

Frowning she threw down her cards, bowed to the rest of the table  -- Beamer, Bonesaw, Theseus, and HolyMoly, all orphaned Solaria Viper pilots that had arrived at Ragnar with the civilian convoy.  "Gentlemen, my apologies.  Apparently I'm being called to duty."

Out in the passageway the watch bell had just rung, and everyone was bound either for a duty station or a bunk.  Dodging through the flow, Kara pulled on her jacket and said, "This had better be good, I was about to win enough water credits for a shower!"

When worried, Lee Adama's sentences grew very short and to the point.  "It's my dad."

Kara stopped dead.  A crewman had been walking closely behind her.  He had to sidestep quickly to avoid a knockdown collision.  "What's the matter?"  Grabbing Lee's arm, she jerked him to a stop as well.  "Lee!  What's the matter?"  The flow of people eddied around them.

"Not out here!" he hissed.  "The gymnasium!  Come on!"  It was to their left down the next side passage.  In the lead, Lee ducked through its half open hatch.  Kara followed and discreetly pulled it closed.

As usual the compartment was empty.  Except for the Marines who exercised every day, most of the Galactica's crew was spending too much time saving humanity to keep in shape.  The compartment smelled just as bad as it had early that morning, and Lee's E.V.A. boots still sat on the deck right where he'd left them.  Suddenly he felt exhausted.

"Tell me fast," Kara said, "or I swear you'll die a slow and painful death."

He told her, pacing around, hitting the punching bag several times and kicking over a whole stack of mats as he spoke.  She giggled for a while and shook her head once or twice, but when he'd finished, Kara looked as sober as he felt.  "Well, what are we waiting for?" she asked.  "Let's go get him!"

Given free choice, Kara probably wouldn't tell the Galatica XO they were going.  For reasons Lee still didn't understand, she hated his guts.  So Lee told her, "Tigh gave Dad a miniature wireless.  I want to see if he's checked in."

"Let's go then!  Time's a wastin'!"  With a single anxiety-fueled heave Kara threw open the heavy gymnasium hatch and burst back out into the passageway.  Together they trotted to the CIC.

"Who?" Kara asked looking around.

"Probably Dee," Lee answered.  "She monitors most of the wireless."

Specialist Dualla's head bent over her console.  Green diode glow reflected off her face.  She had the unfocused, far-off gaze of a listening post.  An ear- and microphone rack hung over one side of her head, giving her an unbalanced look.

"Hey, Dee, how's tricks?" Kara asked.

Dee shook her head and held up a hand.  She chewed her lower lip.  Flicking a switch, she spoke rapidly into her microphone.  "Colonel, sir, I think you should get back to CIC right away!  I'm getting something over that miniature.  I don't like the sound of it."

Tigh's voice came over the intercom.  "What does he want, Dee?"

"I can't talk to him, sir.  He's just broadcasting."

"Oh damn.  On my way.  Record it."

"Yes, sir."  Dee flicked another switch.

Lee stepped up to the equipment console.  "Is that my father?  Put it on the speaker!"

"But the Colonel told me . . . !"

"Then give me that frakking earphone!"

With a shaking hand, Dualla pulled off her rack and handed it over.  When Lee tried to put it on, Kara stopped him with, "Oh no, you're not.  Share, you bastard!"  She made him hold the earpiece up between them.

On her control panel Dualla turned a dial and the earphone's volume went up.  Lee could hear distant sobbing and in counterpoint a man's voice firing a steady string of curses.

The sobbing seemed to be a woman saying, "Hush! Hush!"

Although less clear the man said, "Oh shrik!  Frakking Colonial!  Lords that hurts!"  He said frak several more times after that.  It wasn't the Commander.  A series of loud clangs and rattles punctuated the sobbing and cursing.

Dualla told them, "I heard Commander Adama say something then a crackle like a power pistol discharge.  This is all I've been getting since."

The sobbing stopped.  They heard several groans and the rattle of fabric on a microphone then the Commander's voice.  "I'm all right, ma'am.  At least I think I am.  Ouch!"

The woman said, "Thank the Lords!"

A very distant man's voice ordered, "Get up."  Lee heard some scuffling and groaning.  "On your feet, Chief Husher, or I'll shoot you where you lie."  More scuffling and rattling fabric.  More groaning.  "Get your hands over your head.  Blakeney, get his gun.  No, just take off the tool belt!  Commander Godden, I advise you to stand back.  I've killed one of my own men now and that damned nosey Colonial.  I won't hesitate a second over your nephew."

"Suben?"  That might be the Commander again.  It was hard to tell from just two syllables.

The distant man's voice answered, "Unfortunately, Chief Suben has joined his ancestors.  Blakeney, do you think you can make it to the bridge?"

The man who'd been cursing spoke.  "Yes, sir.  Of course, I can."  The reply had been quick.

"What the hell is going on here?" Colonel Tigh voice boomed directly behind Lee.

:m:l:m:l:m:l:m:l:m:l:m:l:m:l:m:

Discuss unto me; art thou officer?
Or art thou base, common and popular?  Shakespeare, Henry V, Act IV, Scene i, line 37.  (This scene is in large part the inspiration for Dating Service, by the way.)

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