Chapter 10
"It's not that hard," Cally explained. "Just fit this... in here," she said as she demonstrated. "It's even more solid than the original, if you think about it. We won't be replacing them again."
"Let me try," Socinus requested as he placed his hands beneath hers within the opened engine compartment of the Viper.
Cally watched as he took the parts from her and completed the makeshift repair. He'd come a long way; that much was certain. Two weeks before, she wouldn't have trusted him alone with a Raptor, and now she was training him on the simpler Viper repairs that needed to be accomplished.
It had been a long two weeks, though. Schedules were returning to something resembling normalcy, although they still worked too many and too long. It beat the alternative of sitting and moping, which was the other primary activity. They were down to canned stores, so trips to the mess hall were avoided rather than appreciated, and even the few books that they'd pooled within the squadron didn't offer much in the way of distraction. Time off was boring as hell, so if you weren't sleeping it was better to work. At least, that was the way Cally felt. Her opinion seemed to be echoed by most of the deck gang if their constant appearances despite being off duty were an indication. Working was bad, but not working was worse.
On a personal note, she was doing a little better. Rest and regular meals had gone a long way towards bringing her usual resilience back. Doctor Salik had reduced her to half a pill each day, so she was feeling less zoned and more coherent. The shock of what she had tried had also blended in with the trauma that everyone else was dealing with, so it all didn't seem so extreme. Yes, she'd had a hard time, but everyone else was struggling too. She wasn't crazy; just tired.
"Hey, Cal?" Chief Tyrol approached with his usual volume and speed. He always seemed to be everywhere, whatever the shift, and she didn't know whether to appreciate it or worry that they weren't trusted. She knew deep down that he was just being helpful, but that didn't make it any easier to be watched with every movement.
"Sir?" she responded, looking up because her observation wasn't necessary for Socinus to complete the repair. He was doing fine. They were all doing fine.
"I need a favor," he said quickly, only then moving aside so she could see the boy that accompanied him. "I need to make a run up to CIC, and Sharon's on patrol. Can you keep an eye on Boxey?"
The ten-year-old rolled his eyes at Tyrol's reference to him in the third person. Cally could only smile; she'd been there. "Depends," she replied, and then directed her attention to Boxey. "How are you with Viper repairs?"
He gave her a shy grin. "I can learn," he offered.
Cally winked at the Chief, and reached for Boxey's hand to move him over next to Socinus. "There are three steps to learning anything," she informed the child. "You watch, you do, and you teach. If you can do that, then you've got it. Soc, you've watched and you've done it... how about teaching Boxey about Callorman fittings?"
Soc looked back over his shoulder with a grin. "Sure thing," he said with excitement. "Watch here," he began, holding Boxey's attention raptly. "You take this, and then fit it here..."
"Thanks," the Chief said quietly. "I owe you one."
She shook her head with a smile. "I'll be paying you back for a lifetime," she admitted softly. "Besides, it's fun to work with him. He learns everything so quickly, like a sponge. He's going to make a hell of a mechanic before he's even of age."
"As long as the CAG doesn't find out," Tyrol said sheepishly.
"Find out what?"
They all jumped at Captain Adama's voice as he approached from behind the Viper. None of them had seen him coming. Cally looked at the man nervously. He had seemed nice enough, and he often came by to check on how she was doing, but rarely when she was on duty. The Chief was right: kids weren't allowed on the flight deck. Still, most of them were kids compared to him; what was one more?
"We're working on increasing the mechanical staff," she said with wide eyes, hoping that if he was going to slam them, it wouldn't be in front of Boxey. The kid was perpetually on excellent behavior – as though he were afraid they were going to run him off the ship – and he didn't need any real reason to be afraid.
The Captain looked around her to Boxey, and she watched as a very soft smile crossed his face before he hardened his expression. Socinus and Boxey were too involved in the "lesson" to pay any notice to the Captain, but Cally had her eyes pinned on him. "I can remember my dad sneaking us into the hangers to work on the planes," he said softly, then met Cally's eyes. "My brother and me. I think it's where we fell in love with Vipers. I thought the Mark II was the best bird in the world."
"It's damned close," Tyrol agreed. Cally startled; she'd forgotten the Chief was still there.
"Keep him out of anything moving," the Captain instructed, shooting a glance to Tyrol and then one to her. "But we're going to need good mechanics, and in a few years he'll be old enough to enlist."
Paying attention or not, Boxey heard that and turned to Captain Adama with a grin. "Yes, Sir," he replied happily.
Cally and Tyrol both laughed, but Lee Adama just smiled and turned his attention back to the Chief. "Are you attending the briefing upstairs?" he asked.
"Yes, Sir," Tyrol replied.
"Can you let my father know I'll be late?" he requested. "There's a small problem with one of the patrols, and I want to be here when the bird comes in."
"Anything I need to know about?" the Chief asked. Cally waited anxiously for the reply.
Apollo shook his head. "Banking thruster giving some problems," he said. "Kara can bring it in. She could land a cardboard box if she had to. I'll check with her when she's down and get you a report, then you can put your crew on it."
Tyrol nodded, although even Cally could see the reluctance in his acceptance. He worried about his birds as though they were children; he took problems with his equipment very seriously. Still, he followed orders and left them, heading for the main stairway up out of the hangar. She watched him for a moment, seeing Sharon Valerii meet him at the top of the stairs, and the two walked towards the main corridors of the Galactica together. Cally couldn't help but wonder what they were talking about. When she returned her attention to Captain Adama, she saw that his glance had followed the Chief as well. He didn't look upset, though. He just looked thoughtful.
"Which Viper is it?" Cally asked softly, diverting his attention from the Chief and Lieutenant Valerii.
He turned back to her quickly. "Eight-oh-one," he said. "Not one of Gang Five's birds. Don't worry."
She gave a partial sigh of relief. While it was good to know that she hadn't been responsible for the maintenance failure, it didn't make her feel any better about a pilot trying to land with one thruster down. "Can she really land it?" Cally asked softly.
"Kara? Hell yes. If she can bring me in with no engines, she can land herself without one thruster. She'll be fine. The truth is, she's really pissed. I'm afraid she's going to punch the first person she sees when she gets out of that plane, so I'd like that person to be me. I won't press charges," he added with a grin. "It's the only way to keep her out of the brig."
"She does spend a lot of time there," Cally muttered, and then immediately blushed. She had no right to speak of the officers that way, especially to her CAG.
To her surprise, he didn't remark on her borderline insubordination. "Yeah, she does," he said in disgust. "She's always been that way. Hit first and talk later. Everyone handles stress in their own way."
"I suppose."
"So, how are you doing?" he asked. She had wondered how long it would take for her to get around to asking. He seemed to find the time to check up on her every other day or so. Something told her it was more than just concern for one of his deck gang. Weeks before, she had helped him with rebuilding his Viper's underbelly. They had talked a bit then, and she had cried a lot. He hadn't known many people aboard, and so she'd figured he needed a friend, officer or not. His appearance in Life Station after her little "incident" had proved to her that she wasn't the only one who had made a friend that day. He was fairly nice for an officer.
"I'm okay," she said, and for a change she rather meant it. "The doc isn't worried, so I try not to. We have most everything back together down here, so even the workload is easing up."
"I'm not sure if that's good or bad," Apollo mumbled as he looked around the bay. Everyone seemed busy enough, but it wasn't the same kind of frantic activity that they'd been engaged in before. Instead, it was steady and productive, and there was even some laughing and joking going on along the way. Life was not returning to normal, but normalcy was developing in a new way – a new order, so to speak.
Cally saw the woman approach before the Captain did. She couldn't help smiling when he jumped, startled by his lead pilot. "Hey," she said to him, then nodded to Cally. "Lee, can I talk to you for a minute?"
"You are talking," he said with a grin.
She gave an odd look, and Cally wondered just what was going on in her mind. The rumor mill was having a field day with the CAG and the troublemaker, but Cally hadn't really seen anything more than good friends who had both been very nice to her. She couldn't find it in her to believe anything really bad about either of them, but then Prosna had always called her naïve.
It felt good to remember Andy without the searing pain that had used to accompany his memory. Maybe she was dealing with life after all.
"Sure," the Captain said quietly, and he had a concerned look on his face. Cally was dying of curiosity, but it wasn't her business. "I'll catch you later?" he asked.
She nodded with a smile. The Captain asking her permission? Wonder of wonders – the world did have a new order. "Whenever," she said. "Unless you needed me to do something..."
He shook his head. "Just checking in," he admitted. "I can see you're fine."
She smiled again, and the two officers left together, already talking in soft tones. The words didn't carry back to Cally, so instead of spying on them she turned to see how Soc was making out with his fledgling trainee.
"What if it doesn't have the grease?" Boxey was asking.
"Then it sticks," Soc explained. "And trust me, you don't want this rusted on. Then you'd have to drill it out, rebuild the stem, and start all over."
"Wow," the child said in an almost reverent voice. "You can do that."
"I'm learning," Socinus admitted.
Cally leaned over and checked to see how the guys were doing and gave an approving nod. He might have been a slow starter, but Soc was holding his own now. Tyrol would likely move him to Vipers soon; Cally would appreciate the help.
"Specialist Cally?"
Rolling her eyes, she turned to see the Chief coming up to her at a jog, which caused her a flash of worry. Chief Tyrol wasn't one to be rushed into anything, and wasn't he supposed to be in a meeting with the Commander?"
"Yes, Sir?"
"You're needed upstairs," he said quickly, and only slightly out of breath. "Socinus, if you'll take Boxey to lunch, I'll let you know when Cally's back down here."
"Yes, Sir," the young man said, taking Boxey by the hand. Despite his efforts to act like a grown-up, Boxey took the hand willingly.
"This will only take a few minutes," Tyrol told her. She grabbed a rag, wiped the grease off her hands, and followed her boss up the stairs towards the main corridors.
She was more than a little surprised when she was escorted into Commander Adama's small quarters, and much more than a little apprehensive. Specialists weren't routinely summoned to the Commander, and she couldn't help feeling like she must have done something very wrong. Even the soft smile on the Commander's face couldn't eliminate the fear.
She snapped a salute. "Crewman Specialist Cally reporting," she said in a nervous voice.
He returned the salute and gave a nod. "At ease," he said simply. Yeah right, she thought. At ease in the Commander's office? Not damned likely.
"We've finished sorting through some of the effects that were left following the fire," he said gently. "Most of our men don't have remaining family, so we're doing the best we can to get things where they belong. Chief Tyrol tells me that you were a good friend of Andrew Prosna," the Commander said. "Is that true?"
"Yes, Sir," she admitted softly, wondering what this could be about. What effects? The lockers had been cleaned out and everything distributed among the crew and new recruits – there wasn't enough to go around as it was.
"Then I believe this should be yours," he said softly. With that, he held out his closed hand.
Confused, Cally reached forward and was surprised when she felt a heavy weight dropped into her palm. As she pulled her hand back, she looked down at the heavy platinum ring that he had given her. It was large, clearly a man's, and she knew it very well. She had often teased Prosna that he had bought such an expensive ring when graduating secondary school. He had laughed about it, saying that he wasn't planning on college so this was likely the only ring he'd get. He had treasured the damned thing, not even giving it to the girlfriend he'd had for a short time when they'd first come aboard the Galactica. He had been really grateful for that when the relationship had dissolved and he'd started dating Dee. He had planned to give it to her, Cally thought, but he hadn't had the chance.
"This shouldn't be mine," she told the Commander softly, looking up and adding an apologetic, "Sir."
"Yes, it should be," he told her gently. "All of our crew had statements on file regarding their personal effects in the event that they should die in the line of duty. Your name was listed, and the Chief confirmed that the two of you were good friends. He would have wanted you to have it."
She held the ring tightly, a small piece of her best friend that she could touch. She didn't realize she was crying until she saw the tear land on her hand, right next to the ring. "Thank you," she choked out.
"You're welcome," the Commander said. "I truly wish I had a metal to give you as well; he earned it. Unfortunately, with supplies as they are you'll have to settle for the thanks of the Colonial Service. Prosna was a true warrior, in the finest sense of the word. You should be very proud of him."
"I am," she whispered, finally glancing up at the Commander.
He nodded. "Then, you're dismissed. Thank you for coming, and please don't salute on the way out. You're a family member, not a warrior right now. If you need anything, please let me know. I am very truly sorry for your loss."
Cally just nodded, slightly dazed as Chief Tyrol's arm came around her to turn her around and escort her from the room. She was still looking down at the ring, its shining surface and sparkling diamond at odds with the gray walls around them.
"Are you okay," Tyrol asked softly.
She brushed tears aside and sniffled. "Yeah, I am," she answered. "Do you mind if I put this in my room, though. I don't want to lose it."
He stopped and looked at her for a moment, then shook his head. "I have a better idea," he offered. "He reached towards her and pulled the chain she wore around her neck up and over her head, neatly missing the ponytail as he did so. He took the ring from her, and slipped one end of the chain through it, then threaded the other through the loop, effectively attaching the ring to the solid chain. Then he reached forward and put the chain back over her neck, dropping both the dogtags and ring down to her chest. "Why don't you keep it close to your heart for a while," he said gently. "I think that's where he belongs."
It was against regs; she knew that. But the Chief was right. The slight weight around her neck reminded her that the ring was there. She looked down at it for a moment, then took both dogtags and the ring and tucked them into her uniform beneath the regulation undershirts so that it wouldn't be a danger while she was on the job. Of course, it also meant that no one could see it, and that was fine too. For the moment, it was only hers; it was rather like having a piece of her best friend with her. "Thank you," she said simply.
He nodded and smiled. "You need a few minutes, or are you ready to get back to work?" he asked.
She brushed away the last of her tears on her sleeve. "Work," she requested.
His smile broadened. "Work it is," he told her. "Let's get to it."
Cally followed the Chief, her hand going to her chest to touch the slight weight that rested there, pressing cool metal against her skin. Prosna was still with her, she thought. They all were. It was there in the fact that she had survived the jump, and that life had gone on. The men they had lost were all around her, in the sad smiles of her friends and the tiny reminders that they often recognized... the repair that she remembered Kenny making on the aft wall of the flight bay after a zealous pilot had taken out a chunk, or the scratches on the floor by the primary storage room where Prosna had dropped a box of tools.
Those that they loved – and missed – were not truly gone; not as long as there were people who loved them who were alive to remember. For the first time in a very long time, Cally was glad that she was one of the survivors. As the solid weight around her neck reminded her, someone needed to remember those that they had lost. Her friends had not died without a reason; they had saved the human race. Their efforts had enabled the Galactica to survive, and with it what was left of humanity.
And Cally realized that she was honored and privileged to be able to carry on the memory of those she had loved. It was as good a reason as any to be alive.
"It's not that hard," Cally explained. "Just fit this... in here," she said as she demonstrated. "It's even more solid than the original, if you think about it. We won't be replacing them again."
"Let me try," Socinus requested as he placed his hands beneath hers within the opened engine compartment of the Viper.
Cally watched as he took the parts from her and completed the makeshift repair. He'd come a long way; that much was certain. Two weeks before, she wouldn't have trusted him alone with a Raptor, and now she was training him on the simpler Viper repairs that needed to be accomplished.
It had been a long two weeks, though. Schedules were returning to something resembling normalcy, although they still worked too many and too long. It beat the alternative of sitting and moping, which was the other primary activity. They were down to canned stores, so trips to the mess hall were avoided rather than appreciated, and even the few books that they'd pooled within the squadron didn't offer much in the way of distraction. Time off was boring as hell, so if you weren't sleeping it was better to work. At least, that was the way Cally felt. Her opinion seemed to be echoed by most of the deck gang if their constant appearances despite being off duty were an indication. Working was bad, but not working was worse.
On a personal note, she was doing a little better. Rest and regular meals had gone a long way towards bringing her usual resilience back. Doctor Salik had reduced her to half a pill each day, so she was feeling less zoned and more coherent. The shock of what she had tried had also blended in with the trauma that everyone else was dealing with, so it all didn't seem so extreme. Yes, she'd had a hard time, but everyone else was struggling too. She wasn't crazy; just tired.
"Hey, Cal?" Chief Tyrol approached with his usual volume and speed. He always seemed to be everywhere, whatever the shift, and she didn't know whether to appreciate it or worry that they weren't trusted. She knew deep down that he was just being helpful, but that didn't make it any easier to be watched with every movement.
"Sir?" she responded, looking up because her observation wasn't necessary for Socinus to complete the repair. He was doing fine. They were all doing fine.
"I need a favor," he said quickly, only then moving aside so she could see the boy that accompanied him. "I need to make a run up to CIC, and Sharon's on patrol. Can you keep an eye on Boxey?"
The ten-year-old rolled his eyes at Tyrol's reference to him in the third person. Cally could only smile; she'd been there. "Depends," she replied, and then directed her attention to Boxey. "How are you with Viper repairs?"
He gave her a shy grin. "I can learn," he offered.
Cally winked at the Chief, and reached for Boxey's hand to move him over next to Socinus. "There are three steps to learning anything," she informed the child. "You watch, you do, and you teach. If you can do that, then you've got it. Soc, you've watched and you've done it... how about teaching Boxey about Callorman fittings?"
Soc looked back over his shoulder with a grin. "Sure thing," he said with excitement. "Watch here," he began, holding Boxey's attention raptly. "You take this, and then fit it here..."
"Thanks," the Chief said quietly. "I owe you one."
She shook her head with a smile. "I'll be paying you back for a lifetime," she admitted softly. "Besides, it's fun to work with him. He learns everything so quickly, like a sponge. He's going to make a hell of a mechanic before he's even of age."
"As long as the CAG doesn't find out," Tyrol said sheepishly.
"Find out what?"
They all jumped at Captain Adama's voice as he approached from behind the Viper. None of them had seen him coming. Cally looked at the man nervously. He had seemed nice enough, and he often came by to check on how she was doing, but rarely when she was on duty. The Chief was right: kids weren't allowed on the flight deck. Still, most of them were kids compared to him; what was one more?
"We're working on increasing the mechanical staff," she said with wide eyes, hoping that if he was going to slam them, it wouldn't be in front of Boxey. The kid was perpetually on excellent behavior – as though he were afraid they were going to run him off the ship – and he didn't need any real reason to be afraid.
The Captain looked around her to Boxey, and she watched as a very soft smile crossed his face before he hardened his expression. Socinus and Boxey were too involved in the "lesson" to pay any notice to the Captain, but Cally had her eyes pinned on him. "I can remember my dad sneaking us into the hangers to work on the planes," he said softly, then met Cally's eyes. "My brother and me. I think it's where we fell in love with Vipers. I thought the Mark II was the best bird in the world."
"It's damned close," Tyrol agreed. Cally startled; she'd forgotten the Chief was still there.
"Keep him out of anything moving," the Captain instructed, shooting a glance to Tyrol and then one to her. "But we're going to need good mechanics, and in a few years he'll be old enough to enlist."
Paying attention or not, Boxey heard that and turned to Captain Adama with a grin. "Yes, Sir," he replied happily.
Cally and Tyrol both laughed, but Lee Adama just smiled and turned his attention back to the Chief. "Are you attending the briefing upstairs?" he asked.
"Yes, Sir," Tyrol replied.
"Can you let my father know I'll be late?" he requested. "There's a small problem with one of the patrols, and I want to be here when the bird comes in."
"Anything I need to know about?" the Chief asked. Cally waited anxiously for the reply.
Apollo shook his head. "Banking thruster giving some problems," he said. "Kara can bring it in. She could land a cardboard box if she had to. I'll check with her when she's down and get you a report, then you can put your crew on it."
Tyrol nodded, although even Cally could see the reluctance in his acceptance. He worried about his birds as though they were children; he took problems with his equipment very seriously. Still, he followed orders and left them, heading for the main stairway up out of the hangar. She watched him for a moment, seeing Sharon Valerii meet him at the top of the stairs, and the two walked towards the main corridors of the Galactica together. Cally couldn't help but wonder what they were talking about. When she returned her attention to Captain Adama, she saw that his glance had followed the Chief as well. He didn't look upset, though. He just looked thoughtful.
"Which Viper is it?" Cally asked softly, diverting his attention from the Chief and Lieutenant Valerii.
He turned back to her quickly. "Eight-oh-one," he said. "Not one of Gang Five's birds. Don't worry."
She gave a partial sigh of relief. While it was good to know that she hadn't been responsible for the maintenance failure, it didn't make her feel any better about a pilot trying to land with one thruster down. "Can she really land it?" Cally asked softly.
"Kara? Hell yes. If she can bring me in with no engines, she can land herself without one thruster. She'll be fine. The truth is, she's really pissed. I'm afraid she's going to punch the first person she sees when she gets out of that plane, so I'd like that person to be me. I won't press charges," he added with a grin. "It's the only way to keep her out of the brig."
"She does spend a lot of time there," Cally muttered, and then immediately blushed. She had no right to speak of the officers that way, especially to her CAG.
To her surprise, he didn't remark on her borderline insubordination. "Yeah, she does," he said in disgust. "She's always been that way. Hit first and talk later. Everyone handles stress in their own way."
"I suppose."
"So, how are you doing?" he asked. She had wondered how long it would take for her to get around to asking. He seemed to find the time to check up on her every other day or so. Something told her it was more than just concern for one of his deck gang. Weeks before, she had helped him with rebuilding his Viper's underbelly. They had talked a bit then, and she had cried a lot. He hadn't known many people aboard, and so she'd figured he needed a friend, officer or not. His appearance in Life Station after her little "incident" had proved to her that she wasn't the only one who had made a friend that day. He was fairly nice for an officer.
"I'm okay," she said, and for a change she rather meant it. "The doc isn't worried, so I try not to. We have most everything back together down here, so even the workload is easing up."
"I'm not sure if that's good or bad," Apollo mumbled as he looked around the bay. Everyone seemed busy enough, but it wasn't the same kind of frantic activity that they'd been engaged in before. Instead, it was steady and productive, and there was even some laughing and joking going on along the way. Life was not returning to normal, but normalcy was developing in a new way – a new order, so to speak.
Cally saw the woman approach before the Captain did. She couldn't help smiling when he jumped, startled by his lead pilot. "Hey," she said to him, then nodded to Cally. "Lee, can I talk to you for a minute?"
"You are talking," he said with a grin.
She gave an odd look, and Cally wondered just what was going on in her mind. The rumor mill was having a field day with the CAG and the troublemaker, but Cally hadn't really seen anything more than good friends who had both been very nice to her. She couldn't find it in her to believe anything really bad about either of them, but then Prosna had always called her naïve.
It felt good to remember Andy without the searing pain that had used to accompany his memory. Maybe she was dealing with life after all.
"Sure," the Captain said quietly, and he had a concerned look on his face. Cally was dying of curiosity, but it wasn't her business. "I'll catch you later?" he asked.
She nodded with a smile. The Captain asking her permission? Wonder of wonders – the world did have a new order. "Whenever," she said. "Unless you needed me to do something..."
He shook his head. "Just checking in," he admitted. "I can see you're fine."
She smiled again, and the two officers left together, already talking in soft tones. The words didn't carry back to Cally, so instead of spying on them she turned to see how Soc was making out with his fledgling trainee.
"What if it doesn't have the grease?" Boxey was asking.
"Then it sticks," Soc explained. "And trust me, you don't want this rusted on. Then you'd have to drill it out, rebuild the stem, and start all over."
"Wow," the child said in an almost reverent voice. "You can do that."
"I'm learning," Socinus admitted.
Cally leaned over and checked to see how the guys were doing and gave an approving nod. He might have been a slow starter, but Soc was holding his own now. Tyrol would likely move him to Vipers soon; Cally would appreciate the help.
"Specialist Cally?"
Rolling her eyes, she turned to see the Chief coming up to her at a jog, which caused her a flash of worry. Chief Tyrol wasn't one to be rushed into anything, and wasn't he supposed to be in a meeting with the Commander?"
"Yes, Sir?"
"You're needed upstairs," he said quickly, and only slightly out of breath. "Socinus, if you'll take Boxey to lunch, I'll let you know when Cally's back down here."
"Yes, Sir," the young man said, taking Boxey by the hand. Despite his efforts to act like a grown-up, Boxey took the hand willingly.
"This will only take a few minutes," Tyrol told her. She grabbed a rag, wiped the grease off her hands, and followed her boss up the stairs towards the main corridors.
She was more than a little surprised when she was escorted into Commander Adama's small quarters, and much more than a little apprehensive. Specialists weren't routinely summoned to the Commander, and she couldn't help feeling like she must have done something very wrong. Even the soft smile on the Commander's face couldn't eliminate the fear.
She snapped a salute. "Crewman Specialist Cally reporting," she said in a nervous voice.
He returned the salute and gave a nod. "At ease," he said simply. Yeah right, she thought. At ease in the Commander's office? Not damned likely.
"We've finished sorting through some of the effects that were left following the fire," he said gently. "Most of our men don't have remaining family, so we're doing the best we can to get things where they belong. Chief Tyrol tells me that you were a good friend of Andrew Prosna," the Commander said. "Is that true?"
"Yes, Sir," she admitted softly, wondering what this could be about. What effects? The lockers had been cleaned out and everything distributed among the crew and new recruits – there wasn't enough to go around as it was.
"Then I believe this should be yours," he said softly. With that, he held out his closed hand.
Confused, Cally reached forward and was surprised when she felt a heavy weight dropped into her palm. As she pulled her hand back, she looked down at the heavy platinum ring that he had given her. It was large, clearly a man's, and she knew it very well. She had often teased Prosna that he had bought such an expensive ring when graduating secondary school. He had laughed about it, saying that he wasn't planning on college so this was likely the only ring he'd get. He had treasured the damned thing, not even giving it to the girlfriend he'd had for a short time when they'd first come aboard the Galactica. He had been really grateful for that when the relationship had dissolved and he'd started dating Dee. He had planned to give it to her, Cally thought, but he hadn't had the chance.
"This shouldn't be mine," she told the Commander softly, looking up and adding an apologetic, "Sir."
"Yes, it should be," he told her gently. "All of our crew had statements on file regarding their personal effects in the event that they should die in the line of duty. Your name was listed, and the Chief confirmed that the two of you were good friends. He would have wanted you to have it."
She held the ring tightly, a small piece of her best friend that she could touch. She didn't realize she was crying until she saw the tear land on her hand, right next to the ring. "Thank you," she choked out.
"You're welcome," the Commander said. "I truly wish I had a metal to give you as well; he earned it. Unfortunately, with supplies as they are you'll have to settle for the thanks of the Colonial Service. Prosna was a true warrior, in the finest sense of the word. You should be very proud of him."
"I am," she whispered, finally glancing up at the Commander.
He nodded. "Then, you're dismissed. Thank you for coming, and please don't salute on the way out. You're a family member, not a warrior right now. If you need anything, please let me know. I am very truly sorry for your loss."
Cally just nodded, slightly dazed as Chief Tyrol's arm came around her to turn her around and escort her from the room. She was still looking down at the ring, its shining surface and sparkling diamond at odds with the gray walls around them.
"Are you okay," Tyrol asked softly.
She brushed tears aside and sniffled. "Yeah, I am," she answered. "Do you mind if I put this in my room, though. I don't want to lose it."
He stopped and looked at her for a moment, then shook his head. "I have a better idea," he offered. "He reached towards her and pulled the chain she wore around her neck up and over her head, neatly missing the ponytail as he did so. He took the ring from her, and slipped one end of the chain through it, then threaded the other through the loop, effectively attaching the ring to the solid chain. Then he reached forward and put the chain back over her neck, dropping both the dogtags and ring down to her chest. "Why don't you keep it close to your heart for a while," he said gently. "I think that's where he belongs."
It was against regs; she knew that. But the Chief was right. The slight weight around her neck reminded her that the ring was there. She looked down at it for a moment, then took both dogtags and the ring and tucked them into her uniform beneath the regulation undershirts so that it wouldn't be a danger while she was on the job. Of course, it also meant that no one could see it, and that was fine too. For the moment, it was only hers; it was rather like having a piece of her best friend with her. "Thank you," she said simply.
He nodded and smiled. "You need a few minutes, or are you ready to get back to work?" he asked.
She brushed away the last of her tears on her sleeve. "Work," she requested.
His smile broadened. "Work it is," he told her. "Let's get to it."
Cally followed the Chief, her hand going to her chest to touch the slight weight that rested there, pressing cool metal against her skin. Prosna was still with her, she thought. They all were. It was there in the fact that she had survived the jump, and that life had gone on. The men they had lost were all around her, in the sad smiles of her friends and the tiny reminders that they often recognized... the repair that she remembered Kenny making on the aft wall of the flight bay after a zealous pilot had taken out a chunk, or the scratches on the floor by the primary storage room where Prosna had dropped a box of tools.
Those that they loved – and missed – were not truly gone; not as long as there were people who loved them who were alive to remember. For the first time in a very long time, Cally was glad that she was one of the survivors. As the solid weight around her neck reminded her, someone needed to remember those that they had lost. Her friends had not died without a reason; they had saved the human race. Their efforts had enabled the Galactica to survive, and with it what was left of humanity.
And Cally realized that she was honored and privileged to be able to carry on the memory of those she had loved. It was as good a reason as any to be alive.