Chapter 8

Kara rolled over in the cold, unfamiliar bed and stretched her body thoroughly. She hated sleeping alone, but the night before it had seemed the easiest way to manage. In the dim light of morning, here in the pilot's quarters, she realized that she hadn't really solved anything. In fact, she had very likely made things worse.

But at the time she just hadn't wanted to face him. She knew what he'd wanted to do. On a strictly female level she could even appreciate the sentiment if not the end result. But the way he had gotten so angry over a little basic fatigue had set her off.

She was annoyed enough with herself, because having her friends watch her eat with him had been so aggravating. It wasn't as though she and Lee hadn't eaten together most of the time. But doing so away from the rest had been like announcing that there was more than a friendship happening and while there was, she just didn't know if she wanted it to be common knowledge. Her feelings for Lee were still fairly new. She was just beginning to move from thinking of him as a friend to thinking of him as a man, and she wasn't ready to share that just yet. It was a little selfish, and she knew it wasn't fair to Lee, but in her own defense he'd had a lot more time to get used to the concept than she had. She just needed some time of her own.

Now, she wished that she had told him so before last night had happened. Two weeks ago, they'd been barely speaking and he'd been avoiding her at every turn. Last night he had seemed to want to tell the world that they were a couple. As she had told him, she just couldn't make the mental adjustment that fast.

So instead of taking the risk of going back to his room — and yes, the room was still his - and getting into another fight that wouldn't have a winner, she had taken the path of least resistance and had come back to her old bed to sleep alone. She hadn't slept well, but she had made it through the night. Now it was time to face the morning. The single most intense thought in her mind was that she knew — she just knew — that she had made the situation worse instead of better by delaying their confrontation. Now, she'd just as soon not bother with one at all.

She reached to the headboard in a practiced motion and turned off the built in alarm. She had early watch today, and she wasn't looking forward to it. It wasn't that she minded duty as trainer — she had always liked working with the rookies, even when they tried her patience with their inexperience and ignorance — but it was damned early, and she was still tired.

She rolled to the side, sitting up carefully so that she didn't smack her head on the bunk above. She spared a passing thought that she was glad her bunk was even still available. Her move to Lee's room had been unofficial, so she still had a locker and bunk here if she chose to use them. This was the first time in months that she'd elected to do so. The last time had been when Lee had the flu, and she couldn't take his coughing a moment longer. Come to think of it, she hadn't slept well that night either, as she'd been busy feeling guilty about leaving him sick regardless of his telling her to just go.

With a yawn, she untangled herself from the covers and went to the shower line. She was out of practice at this. She and Lee had been on opposite shifts for long enough that she'd become used to getting straight under the water. The ten-minute wait for one of the fifteen stalls was a pain in the butt. She ignored the few curious glances that she got as she stood there. No doubt there was a good deal of speculation about what she was doing here, but she was relatively sure that they would have the good sense not to question her. After last night, she had already revealed more personal information to the squad than she wanted to. She imagined they would find her return to group quarters to be fuel for the next six months of gossip.

Kara finally made it to the head of the line and then into a shower stall. She stripped there, sticking her duty uniform and underwear over the door and quickly soaking herself. The water wasn't warm enough to keep her there, but it did wake her up. She dried herself off with the towel she'd tossed next to her uniform and then redressed. When she left the stall, she was fully dressed except for her shoes and socks. In a washroom of officers wearing only towels and underwear, she felt almost overdressed. She tried not to think about it. Just because she'd spent the majority of the last ten years walking around half-naked in front of her team, it didn't mean she felt comfortable at the moment.

"Kara?"

With her towel around her shoulders, Kara turned to face what she was sure was a challenge. Lieutenant Katherine Pollard stood there with a concerned expression, though. Not curious, but concerned. It made a difference. "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" Katherine was standing way back. One of the few Raptor pilots left from before the war had started, she was also one of the few women that Kara had always called friend.

"I'm fine," Kara said with a sigh. "Just needed some space last night."

"Not much of that in here," Katherine commented wryly, but she didn't look judgmental. That was something. "There's so many rooks coming in that we're falling all over one another."

"Tell me about it," Kara complained, but it was without heat. "I'm the one that has to train them."

"Better you than me," Katherine told her with a wink. "You on early shift, or you gonna run?"

Kara checked her watch. Not used to waiting for her shower, she had miscalculated in setting her alarm. Now she really didn't have time to catch a run before a second shower and breakfast. Damn. "Running behind," Kara admitted. "I'll grab a bite and then hit the hanger."

"I'm on mid," Katherine explained. "So I'm gonna run. Let me know if you need anything."

"I will," Kara promised, but it was idle. She had no intentions of going to anyone with her problems. Still, it was nice of her to ask. "Thanks."

Katherine gave a smile, and Kara went back to her locker to grab a comb and toothbrush. She used both quickly, making sure she stayed clear of anyone she knew well enough to expect questions. She was moderately successful, fending off a couple of curious looks with a practiced glare and not needing to talk to anyone until after her morning routine was complete. As she tucked the toothbrush and comb back in her locker, her hair already falling forward into bangs from where she'd swept it back out of her way, she reflected briefly on the contents of the locker.

Kara had one toothbrush, one comb, an extra small set of tanks and a small fight suit. That was all. Anything personal had long since been taken to Lee's room so that she had it handy. It was why her quick shower hadn't included soap or shampoo; she hadn't had them with her.

She was going to have to do something about the situation, but for the life of her she didn't know what. And Lee's feelings were so damned touchy lately that she was scared to say anything. Any doubt, any reason at all on her part, he seemed to take personally. She couldn't understand why he didn't realize that part of this involved her, too. She had feelings as well. Wasn't that allowed?

Kara stopped by her bunk to put on the socks and boots she'd left there the night before. Having done so, she was as ready for work as she was going to get. She grabbed a protein drink from the mess hall on the way up to the flight deck, deliberately not looking back to the corner that she and Lee had shared the night before. Damn it, why couldn't she have just smiled and said thank you? Why had she let it bug her so frakking much that so many eyes had been on them? Hell, it probably wasn't even them, but the existence of a private table that had drawn their attention. Why hadn't that occurred to her last night? Everything just seemed so much more sensible when she was well-rested and looking at things in the light of day.

Silently, she made herself a promise to relay that to Lee along with an apology. It really had been a sweet idea. With a sigh, she entered the ready room and grabbed her clipboard from its place on the wall. After hitting a few buttons, she winced. She had Brennan today, and then Conley. Both were among the weaker flyers, but neither was bad enough to buck out of the program. She wasn't worried that they'd lose the Viper, but rather that they'd shake something loose when landing. They weren't entirely incompetent, just inexperienced. That was why she was taking each of them out for a quick launch and landing. Those were the hardest two skills to master in the Viper — gaining control after launch, and then landing the bird on a moving landing deck. She could do either one without thought. The same could not be said for her rookies.

Both of the eager young faces were sitting at one table, and both looked a lot more excited about the day than she felt. Great. Still, she decided to enjoy what little she saw of space while she was there. Once these two mini-flights were accomplished, it was performance evaluation and maintenance. It wasn't her idea of a great ten hours, but she would do it. But she still had ten minutes before she had to face either of the cadets, so she was going to check out her own Viper first. That way she could look over their shoulders while they checked out theirs.

"Good morning," the Chief said as she stepped back out of the ready room to head for the line of Vipers.

"Morning," she replied. She left out the good — without her run, it wasn't her idea of a good day.

"Taking out the rooks, I see," he commented briefly.

"Yeah. Roster says I've got one-forty-two, correct?"

"That's your bird," he replied. "They have the next two down."

Kara nodded. It was nothing out of the routine. She walked down the line of Vipers without another word to Tyrol. He had work to get done as well; he didn't need her hanging around to chat. Well, that and she really didn't feel like talking.

Approaching her Viper, she gave it a cursory once-over with a practiced eye. Running her hand along the fuselage, she couldn't help but smile a bit. They were really beautiful. This was one of the Mach VII's that had been on the Galactica for repairs when the war had started. She was gorgeous. Now retrofitted with a computer system thirty years younger than her original electronics, she was one of her favorites to fly. She was fast, handled beautifully, and could land without even a hiccup. Kara didn't mind the Mach II fighters — she'd certainly spent her share of time in them — but when the Chief saw fit to assign her the VII she sure as hell wasn't going to complain.

Walking around behind the bird, she frowned sharply. That wasn't right. Stepping in beneath the three engines, she ran a finger across what was normally a clean and dry area. It was dark and greasy, and something had to be coming from somewhere. Looking up, she saw a trial of the brown gunk from the upper engine.

"Chief?" she called out. Once she heard his footsteps coming back her way, she returned her attention to the Viper. Tyrol took care of his birds like a mother watched her children. This was completely out of the ordinary.

"What do you need?" he called once he reached the front of the Viper.

"Got a problem," she admitted reluctantly. "There's a leak."

"A what?" His voice was suitably offended. She had expected that.

"I don't know what it is," she explained. "Dark, greasy, but doesn't smell like oil or coolant. This is out of my league. What else is liquid back here?"

Tyrol came around, and his expression of alarm would have been comical if the situation hadn't been so serious. "Frak!"

"That's what I thought," she muttered.

"Must be pollution from the Tylium," he grumbled. "The converter may not be processing it right. I'll have to pull the engine to find out. Let me get a ladder and take a closer look."

She waited with veiled impatience while he did so. It was late enough that she should at least let the kiddies know where she was, but until she knew what was up she didn't want to leave. While Tyrol slid the tool box and ladder close to the Viper, she walked down to look beneath it to see where the trial continued towards. Tylium broke down into a number of components, and some of them were caustic. She didn't want to find any damage to the shell of the Viper. While Tyrol climbed the ladder, she followed the trail down towards the magnetic landing supports.

Sure enough, there was a pool of whatever it was gathered around the joint to the landing gear. Frak. She just hoped it hadn't been there long enough to do any damage. Dropping down onto her back, she slid up under the Viper to see how much had collected and whether it was readily accessible for cleanup.

The next few events happened so quickly that it would take Kara hours to mentally sort them out. She felt the Viper drop down towards her even as she heard Tyrol's yell as his ladder pitched forward. She put her hands up in a defensive move that was ridiculously inadequate given the twenty tons of metal suspended above her. She did her best to scoot out of the way, but being in her duty uniform instead of the slicker flight suit or orange work uniform, she wasn't as mobile against the textured metal flooring. With her hands against the Viper, she felt it lowering onto her in a slow-motion fall, and she was helpless to stop it. Squeezing her eyes shut, she had a flash of memory of what had been left of Roger Caplin when they'd finally gotten a fallen Raptor off him. There hadn't really been enough left to identify.

Feeling the increasing pressure of the plane's weight, she said a quick prayer that Lee wouldn't be the one that had to pull what was left of her out.

"Kara? Kara, can you hear me. Shit! Kara?"

Doing her best to get air in, Kara tried to answer. She really did. But it was all she could do to inhale past the pain in her chest. There just wasn't any room for her lungs to expand. She was effectively pinned. It took a moment for her to even realize why that was.

"Kara, damn-it, answer me!"

"Here," she finally got out in a whisper. "Can't" There was no more air. She couldn't say anything else.

"Don't move!" Tyrol commanded. "I've got it wedged, but it isn't stable. Don't move at all. Understand?"

She did. And she couldn't move if she'd wanted to. But she couldn't get enough air in to tell him that. She couldn't even get in enough to make the sick and spinning feeling go away.

"I need to get help," the Chief told her urgently. "Kara, just don't move. I swear we'll get the Viper up. Just stay still until I can get back."

They would get her out. She knew this crew. They had to get her out. She tried her best to hold off the claustrophobia that threatened, reminding herself that if she could hear, she was alive. If she was alive, then she was breathing. If she was breathing, then they had time to get her out. She just hoped they could do it before Lee found out.

"Lee."

She wasn't even aware that she'd whispered his name until she heard her own breathy voice.

"I'll get him," the Chief assured her. "Just don't move!"

No. That wasn't what she wanted. Lee would just panic and feel responsible. It was what he did best. He'd probably ream her out for sliding up under the Viper in the first place, or have Tyrol brought up on charges for letting this happen. Shit.

She clasped and unclasped her hands, which was about the only part of her that she could move. All she could see was the dark underbelly of the Viper, and she tried not to think about what she could feel. The pressure on her chest was painful, and that same pressure was along her legs and groin. If they got her out of this when when they got her out of this, she was going to be one big bruise. Lee was going to have a fit.

In a way, Kara almost wished that the Viper had just come all the way down and taken care of it in one motion. She probably wouldn't have even felt it. This she could feel, and she couldn't move. It wasn't the first time in her life that she had been pinned and helpless, but she had to say that it was the worst. She couldn't even take a real breath.

She heard scrambling footsteps around her, but she couldn't see anything. Shouts and the clang of equipment filled the air, and still she was stuck there with no way to know what was going on. She heard a lot of cursing — most of it Tyrol — and then she heard another familiar voice. It was Cally.

"Hang on, Starbuck. We're getting it."

Kara clung to the voice, and then to something more concrete. A hand. Cally's hand slipped into hers and she squeezed.

"Squeeze once if you can hear me," Cally requested.

Kara squeezed, long and hard.

"Okay once for yes, twice for no. Understand?" Cally's voice was clear, but urgent.

Kara gave a quick squeeze.

"Are you hurt?"

Kara remained still. She honestly didn't know. She was thoroughly squished, but did that qualify as hurt.

"Starbuck? Can you hear me?" Cally was starting to sound frantic.

Kara gave a squeeze.

"Are you in pain?"

Now that she could answer. One squeeze.

"Can you move at all?"

Kara squeezed twice. Aside from hands that could clasp and unclasp, she was completely pinned.

"Can you say anything."

Kara tried to take a deep breath and was rewarded with an acute pain in her chest. She gave two fast squeezes instead.

"Okay, here's the deal. This is gonna take a while. We've lost one of the landing supports, and we don't know why. Right now, it's wedged with a ladder, but we don't trust it. We need to get the high-lift in here and strap the Viper to get it up and off without it tilting. Do you understand?"

Kara closed her eyes in panic. She couldn't stay here that long. She couldn't.

"Starbuck?"

Kara squeezed twice. No. She couldn't do this. She couldn't stay here that long. She couldn't breathe that long.

"You don't understand? Should I explain it again?"

Another two squeezes. Hearing it once had been more than enough.

"What's wrong? Oh shit, like you can really tell me!" Cally's words would have been comical if her voice hadn't been so urgent. "Starbuck, I swear we'll get you out as soon as we can. We have to be careful; if we lose another support, then we lose you. We won't let that happen."

Kara squeezed long and hard. As soon as she loosened her grip, Cally was gone. Kara fought panic once more. Cally had at least been a link to the world. She had been someone talking to Kara, even if she couldn't talk back. She had been confirmation that she wasn't alone down here, and that they were trying to get her out. Intellectually, Kara knew those things were still true, but without the tangible proof it was harder to remember.

Kara could hear Cally among the other voices around her, but it wasn't the same. She became aware of a flurry of activity, and yet could see none of it. She willed herself not to cry, because she knew that a stuffy nose would only make it harder to breathe, and she couldn't stand that. It was all she could do to breathe as it was. Frankly, she felt as though she couldn't, but she was still conscious so some air exchange must have been taking place.

Gradually, the pain in her body faded to a kind of numbness. She didn't hurt anymore, and that was something. She couldn't feel anymore. She was just there, with all the noise and clanking and yelling going on around her, and no understanding of what was going on. She was very much afraid that she would go insane while she was stuck her. That would be ironic, she thought with sick humor. They might save her body, but her mind would be gone. Squeezing her eyes closed again, trying to block out the situation she was stuck in. She tried to think of it as a mental exercise; just how far from here could she get?

The furthest place she could think of was bright and open and clear. Caprica. She could remember Caprica. She could remember the first time that she'd been in the air, when she'd realized that the world around her wasn't limited to trees and mountains and buildings.

It had been a transforming moment. She had been nine years old, or somewhere close to that, when it had happened..

She had been about the same age as Lee when William Adama had found her, so she'd just picked his age to claim as hers. They had both started school the same year, so she'd just said she was whatever age Lee was. There really wasn't any official paperwork, and they had just celebrated a birthday for her at the same time that they celebrated one for Lee. He hadn't ever seemed to mind. In fact, they had laughed about getting two cakes instead of one.

So just after their ninth birthday, Lee's dad had taken them both up in a transport freighter. It had been during one of his dreaded tours of planetside duty. Dreaded because he hated it, but not because they had. Lee and Zak had always loved having their dad around. Kara had mostly stayed clear. A part of her had always been just a little afraid of him back then, most likely due to the past that she still didn't remember very well. But so long as Lee and Zak were there, she'd gone along. Just like she had that day.

Adama had been a Captain, and he'd been given a routine assignment to move some equipment from one side of the planet to the other. For some reason, he'd been able to get clearance to take them along as well. So he had loaded the three of them into the transport, done a lot of talking on the radio, and then had taken off into the air.

For the first few minutes, she had clutched Lee's arm as though they would fall out of the sky. But he and Zak had flown with their father before, and they'd thought she was being silly. Now that she thought about it, even as Zak had laughed at her — he'd been around six at the time — Lee had let her hold on to his arm until she'd finally realized that the plane wasn't going to crash.

Once that fear had abated, she'd been entranced. Everything had looked better from the air than she had ever seen. She had loved looking out at the trees and deserts, the water below them and the mountains beside them. She had been in awe of it all as they flew on the two-hour trip from day into night. That had fascinated her as well — going from day to night and then back to day in only a few hours. From that moment, she had been in love with the air. Lee had been before that, so he understood. Back then, Zak had just liked being with his dad for the trip.

From that time, though, Kara remembered that Adama had taken them up any time he had the excuse. She never thought about what he must have gone through to get the military clearance to do it. Every time he took them up, she fell a little more in love with flight. It was open and free and everything that she loved in life. She had enjoyed it so much that somewhere along the line she had forgotten to be afraid of the oldest Adama, and he had just become an amazing pilot that was able to give her what she wanted more than anything. He had given her a purpose.

Lee had always known he wanted to be a pilot like his dad. Kara had been undecided until she'd gone up on that first flight. From that day, the two of them had shared something that no one else — not even Zak — had understood. They had spent months looking through every book on planes and spacecraft that they could find. They had been studying flight schematics when other kids were studying for science tests and planetary history. They had been quizzing one another on the Colonial Fleet when other kids were quizzing each other on algebra. They had both knocked themselves out in math and physics, knowing they were the foundations for flight. They had shared a common goal: they were going to fly.

Kara could think of only one memory more powerful than the first time she had been in the air, and that was the first time she had soloed. She had been on an adrenaline rush that she hadn't since equaled. She'd been both preoccupied and had a mind so clear that she saw and felt everything. She remembered the initial panic when she'd realized that she was really and truly off the ground, with nothing but her own skill to get her back down. She had been incredibly calm given the circumstances, and she had shocked a few of her trainers when she'd landed the craft as smoothly as a pro. It hadn't been the first time she'd landed of course, but it had been the first time when no one had been in the plane with her to bail her out if she had screwed up. But she hadn't. She had taken to the air like a bird, and what was more she had come back to the ground the same way.

In the air, or in space, Kara was at home. Anyplace else, she was at least a little claustrophobic. But what she was feeling at this moment was beyond a discomfort of cramped places. This was pure, suffocating fear, and it was getting harder to ignore. Her mind was a great place to escape to, but she'd never been good at doing it for long.

At the moment, she was right back where she'd been: pinned beneath a Viper and scared out of her mind. She wondered how long she'd been here. Time didn't have a whole lot of meaning when every moment felt like an hour. She was still conscious, and they were still moving around, yelling, and more often than not cursing. At least they hadn't given up on her. She wouldn't give up on them.

But she was scared. Every moment she was down here made her a little more afraid than she'd been the moment before. She tried to think of something else — something good — but nothing could distract her at the moment. Even pleasant memories of a childhood that had turned out better than she'd had any right to expect wasn't enough to completely block out the horror of her current situation. All she could focus on was Roger's funeral and how very sad everyone had been. She hadn't cried — not in front of everyone — but she'd felt like it. There had been an oppressive mood on the Galactica for weeks after it had happened. She could only pray that this wouldn't be a repeat. They had been so damned careful about shoring up supports. She still didn't know what the hell had happened.

And at the moment she didn't care. She just wanted this over, one way or another.

"Kara?"

The voice caught her attention, but she didn't open her eyes. There was no point. She couldn't see anything anyway. So she just lay there and tried not to cry, because she couldn't even answer him.

The warmth of his hand against hers caught her by surprise and brought her attention back to where she was, and what was happening. She squeezed gently, too tired to do more, but she felt him squeeze back.

"Almost there, Kara," Lee promised, his voice sounding as frantic as hers would have if she'd been able to speak. "Are you okay?"

She couldn't answer, but she squeezed.

"Tell her once for yes and twice for no," Cally called out. Kara almost smiled. Leave it to Cally to order the CAG around.

"Are you hurting?" he asked.

She squeezed twice. She wasn't. She really couldn't feel much of anything.

"Thank the Lords for that," he muttered. "Hold on. We'll have you out of there in a minute."

She squeezed once, and held tight. Cally had left her there, but she wasn't letting Lee go anywhere.