4/14/04

ONE DAY AT A TIME

Journal of Lt. Kara Thrace, Battlestar Galactica, 2300, Pilots' general quarters

I'd put a date on this entry, but frankly we've all lost track of the days. I suppose someone in CIC has been keeping some official account of the days as part of their job, but to the rest of us, it's fairly irrelevant. I mean, it's not like we're going to be celebrating any holidays or anything, at least, not anytime soon. I can say, with reasonable accuracy, that it's been about six months since the destruction of the Colonies.

Life may not be getting back to normal, but it is starting to fall into a routine and people are starting to cope better. The disciplinary infractions have been getting fewer and there hasn't been a suicide on the Galactica for about two months. They're still happening on the civilian ships, but even those are lessening, thank the Lords.

Every time I hear about another person killing themselves, I feel guilty. I am lucky, I truly am. I came away from the holocaust relatively unscathed. Almost all of my friends and, surviving, loved ones were here with me, at the time. The only true loved one I lost that day was Ilya Adama. And, as much as I will always miss her, I can admit here, in this journal, that if I had to choose one person from that family to lose, it would be her. As shameful as that is to admit, it's true. I just hope that, wherever her spirit is, she understands and forgives me. But, after losing Zac, I don't think I could have survived losing Lee or the commander. Luckily, I don't have to contemplate that disaster, yet. And, if I have anything to say about it, I never will.

There's been no sign of the Cylons for months now. Not since the Pegasus was lost. The addition of the Pegasus pilots has helped relieve the strain on all of us, especially Lee. He's able to keep a nearly full roster and he doesn't feel the need to cover every open shift himself. It's given him a little more free time and occasionally he actually gets a full night's sleep.

Sure, we all still have our good days and our bad days, but lately, for most of us, the good days are starting to outnumber the bad days. I know it's a cliché, but you really do have to take it one day at a time, sometimes one hour at a time. And sometimes, on the really good days, life actually almost does seem normal, almost.

A few weeks ago, Lee and I had been making an inspection of the Vipers with Chief Tyrol. We had just finished inspecting Lee's Mark VII. Tyrol and I had moved on to look at the next ship in the line. It wasn't until we had moved on again, that I realized that Lee was no longer with us. Turning to look around, I saw that he was still back at his Viper. He was standing on one of the deck crew's ladders and was bent over, obviously looking for something in the cockpit.

As I continued to watch, I saw him straighten up and pop something into his mouth. He closed his eyes and, for a moment, a look that I can only describe as almost sexual pleasure crossed his face. Hmm, what, the hell, did he just put in his mouth, I wondered.

Walking over to him, I asked him that very question, "What did you just put in your mouth?"

"Nothing," he said quickly as he climbed down from the ladder.

Lee is a horrible liar, especially to the people he's close to. He can lie just fine to strangers and acquaintances, but to friends and family, forget it. His eyes get very wide and he actually blushes. I always tease him that that's why he can never beat me at pyramid. I always know when he's bluffing. And he was definitely bluffing now.

"Don't give me that. I saw you take something from your Viper and put it in your mouth." As I spoke, I moved to stand directly in front of him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, but it was obvious that he was speaking around something tucked in his cheek and there was no mistaking the scent on his breath.

I gasped. "You have chocolate breath!"

Ignoring his protests and pushing him aside, I climbed the ladder and reached for the weapon compartment of his Viper. The Mark VII's have a small, hidden compartment located just under their central control panels. It was designed to hold an extra sidearm and ammunition during times of war, but since the ships had all been built during peace times, the compartments were rarely used for that purpose. Most pilots kept small personal items there, like photos of loved ones, good luck charms, etc. In the compartment of Lee's Viper, I found a fairly large bag of Tauron chocolates, each individually wrapped in brightly colored foil.

Turning back to him and holding the bag up like evidence from a crime scene, I said, "You have chocolate stashed in your Viper!"

"You have chocolate?" Callie said softly, moving closer, drawn to the brightly wrapped sweets, like a moth to a flame.

"Yes," Lee said, snatching the bag from my hand. "And it's my chocolate. I have a sweet tooth," he added lamely, as if this justified his actions.

"You know, Lee," I said. "There is a special level of hell that's reserved just for child molesters, mass murderers, and people who hide chocolate form their friends."

"Well, then I guess I'm going to the special hell," he responded smugly.

"Give me the bag, Lee," I said, trying to make my voice as ominous as possible. "I do not want to have to hurt you."

He just stood staring at me for a long time. I guess, trying to decide whether or not my threat was serious. Evidently, he decided it was. With a heavy and dramatic sigh, he handed me the bag. Smart boy.

"Thank you, Lee," I said cheerfully, all smiles again.

I poured a generous amount of the bright sweets into my hand and passed them over to Callie. "Here you go, Callie... See, Lee, this is called 'sharing'."

"Oh, sure, it's real easy to share, when the things you're passing around, aren't yours!" Although his words were indignant, it was obvious from his tone that he was not truly upset with my actions.

"You do have a point," I agreed amiably. "Chocolate does seem to taste better when it's someone else's."

"Thank you, Captain," Callie called sweetly as she skipped off to share her treasure with the rest of the deck crew.

"You know, I would have shared those with you... eventually," Lee said. "Frankly, I had forgotten that they were even in there until just now. I'm also surprised that someone else hasn't found them before now and eaten them."

"Oh, right, like anyone is going to steal chocolate from the commander's son. And just why do you keep chocolate in your Viper anyway?"

"Well, I guess, because when Zac and I were kids, whenever Mom and Dad gave us sweets, Zac would always wolf his down right away, then he would start in on mine. I always had to hide mine, just to keep him from eating it all. After a while, it just became habit. Even after I'd moved out of the house, any time I had any sweets, I always kept them hidden. It's sort of like what you said; you think chocolate tastes better if it's stolen. Well, I think it tastes better if it's kept secret."

Knowing how repressive Lee could be about anything pleasurable, I didn't doubt the sentiment. I had never known anyone who could make themselves feel so guilty about enjoying even the simplest of pleasures. I, on the other hand, was more like Zac. When I was a kid, any time I had any candy, it never lasted long. After all, wasn't that what candy was for, to be enjoyed? But Lee was one of those types who could make a bag of chocolates last for months. Hell, for all I knew that bag I had just found in his Viper could have been a couple of years old.

I just could not grasp that level of self-control. And I knew it wasn't just a matter of a lack of desire. Lee wasn't kidding when he said he had a sweet tooth. He loved chocolate, but because he loved it, he wouldn't allow himself to indulge in it. He never allowed himself to indulge in anything. At first, I assumed it was one of those testosterone- fueled, self-denial, character-building things that Lee was always so big on. But after seeing his relationship with Bridget Cain, now I'm not so sure. Now I wonder if this whole self-denial thing doesn't have darker, more subconscious motivations.

Resolutely putting these uncomfortable thoughts out of my mind, I selected a chocolate wrapped in bright green foil (my favorite color) and peeled the wrapper away. As I had suspected, the chocolate had that whitish, powdery-looking coating that indicates that it has melted and re- hardened at least once. But, despite its dodgy appearance, I can honestly say I have never tasted better chocolate and I consider myself quite the expert.

Sure, I know what you all are thinking, finding a secret stash of chocolate, big deal. But, at the time, to us, it was a big deal. If it's one thing this whole thing has taught me, it's that life is precious and you need to take pleasure wherever you can find it. And, I know it sounds corny, but sometimes it truly is the littlest things that can mean the most.

For instance, just a couple of days ago, the fleet came upon an unknown planet. Using the Galactica's scanners and a probe, it was determined that the planet was uninhabited but its atmosphere was breathable. Lee and I volunteered to fly down and check it out.

As we entered the planet's atmosphere, we descended right into the middle of a severe electrical storm. Rain pelted our Vipers as we searched for a place to land. But it seemed that torrential rain was the norm for this planet, because, even though we must have flown for several hundred kilometers, we never left the storm behind. And below us, as far as the eye could see, was nothing but rain swept water.

Having no idea how deep the water was, we didn't dare try to land. We flew on, scanning all around us, searching for some kind of landfall. After nearly two hours, we spotted a large outcropping of rock. We circled it a few times and found a wide, reasonably flat shelf that appeared big enough for our two birds.

We landed and climbed down from the Vipers. We needed to collect some samples for testing. The planet may not have been habitable and it may not have any plant life to offer, but the one thing it did have plenty of, was water. And that was a very valuable thing to fleet as well.

The Galactica has four distilling units which can purify and recycle 15,000 hectolitres (400,000 gal.) of water a day, but most of the civilian ships have no such facilities, or only minimal ones. So, the Galactica has share out her supply with them and her reserves, which should have lasted a year or more, were being rapidly depleted. If it was determined that the planet's almost unlimited water supply was pure, or at least purifiable, it would be a godsend to the thirsty fleet.

Lee and I had the testing kits with us. All we had to do was collect some water and run the tests. If the water was acceptable, we would contact the Galactica and they would send down the supply ship. The problem was finding someplace dry enough to run the tests. It had continued to rain non- stop since we had left the Vipers. It had let up some, more of a light shower now, rather than a downpour, but it was still coming down at a steady rate.

After I had collected some of the rainwater into a container and Lee had gotten a sample of the "sea" water, we began looking around for a sheltered spot to run the tests. By now, we were both soaked and shivering. The temperature was somewhere around 4 degrees (C), so it was not terribly warm.

At last, I spotted a dark opening in one of the rocky "hills" nearby. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a fairly large, but low- ceilinged cave. The roof of the cave was just high enough to allow us to sit comfortably upright and we dumped our equipment and set to work. We set up a battery-powered lantern to chase away the shadows of the deep cave and the sunless gloom of the overcast sky outside.

Finding a fairly flat surface to work on, I began testing my water sample. I was vaguely aware of Lee doing the same thing. We hadn't really spoken much since we had left the Galactica. We didn't need to. There were times when we seemed to simply know where each other was and what each other was doing, without needing to look or ask. It was like a weird sort of hyperawareness of each other and strangely, I don't remember ever feeling that connection with Zac. I don't pretend to know what that means and, oddly, I'm not really sure I want to know.

The tests only took about an hour or so to complete and we both discovered that our samples were acceptable. The tests did show the presence of bacterial life, but their levels were well within the purifiable range. The Galactica's distilling units would easily be able to make the water drinkable.

Lee radioed up to the Galactica to have them send down the supply ship. I managed to find a somewhat comfortable place to settle back in to wait. We would need to stick around until the supply ship got here, to make sure they came to the right spot. It would be at least a couple of hours. Looking around, I couldn't see anything organic that we could use to start a fire and we hadn't thought to bring any kind of fuel with us. With a sigh, I realized that it was going to be a very long, cold, damp wait. I wrapped by arms around myself, trying to conserve my body heat.

The deep-throated sound of thunder rumbling off in the distance drew my attention toward the cave entrance and, looking out; I saw Lee standing in the rain, staring off toward the eastern horizon. Carefully crawling closer to the entrance, I tried to see what had drawn his attention. The sky was noticeably darker in that direction and, as I watched, I saw a jagged flash of lightning slash through the clouds. The storm appeared to still be some distance out from us. It was hard to judge distances here, as there were no landmarks to help you, just endless kilometers of empty water and sky. I hoped the storm stayed away from us. If it was too intense, the supply ship might not be able to land and/or we might not be able to take off. I really didn't want to stay here any longer than I had to.

Noticing that Lee was still standing in the cold rain, watching the sky, I started to get worried. Did he see something that I couldn't? Was there some danger out there? Why wasn't he moving?

"Lee, is something wrong?" I called out to him.

"No, nothing's wrong," he answered, not looking at me.

"Okay, I could have accepted this kind of behavior from Zac," I said, "but I would have thought that you would have enough sense to come in out of the rain."

He turned to look at me then and there was a strange expression on his face. One I had never seen before. He looked sad and yet he had a small, slight smile on his face. His eyes seemed to be focusing on a time and place far removed from me or this rock.

"Kara," he said softly, "when's the last time you felt rain on your face and watched a thunderstorm play out in front of you? And when do you think you'll be able to experience those things again, if ever?"

We stared at each other for a long moment. Slowly, I crept the rest of the way out of the cave and went to stand beside him. I had to admit that the light show was pretty impressive. There were no trees or buildings to block your view of the slashing lightning. You got to watch it in all its fearsome glory. As a child, I had always loved to watch thunderstorms. I loved that split second thrill of anticipation between the flash of the lightning and the boom of the thunder. You knew the loud crash was coming, you knew it would make you jump, and that just made the anticipation of it all the sweeter. There was just something primordially scary about thunderstorms. Even when you were tucked safely indoors and you knew the storm could not touch you. It still seemed to strike some deep, irrational, ancient fear within you. I'd always loved that feeling... Yeah, okay, I admit it. I was an adrenaline junkie, even as a small child.

Perhaps feeling that little thrill of fear now, I blindly reached out with my hand and clasped Lee's. We stood together, holding hands, and watched as the storm passed in front of us. The rain continued to fall in a light shower and I breathed in that fresh, clean, earthy scent that always seems to accompany it. Sure, when I stood in the showers on the Galactica, I could close my eyes and pretend that I was standing in the rain, but it would never be the same. The pattern of the falling water would be too regular and the sounds and smells would be all wrong. Closing my eyes, I let all my other senses drink in the rain as well.

It was entirely possible that the fleet could be attacked by the Cylons tomorrow and I could die. Hell, a battlestar was a dangerous place to live. There were a hundred different ways that I could be killed at any given time. But somehow, at that moment, all of that seemed like a distant thing. I felt a peacefulness that I hadn't felt in a long time. I had once again felt rain on my face and heard the thunder speaking to the most primal parts of my soul. Glancing over at Lee, I could see that he was feeling many of the same things.

We must have stood this way for well over an hour, but it seemed like a much shorter period of time. The spell we both seemed to be under was abruptly shattered by the sound of the approaching supply ship. By some unspoken, mutual consent, we let go of each other's hand and stepped a short distance away from each other. We moved forward to greet the other pilot as the small tanker ship just managed to squeeze in beside our Vipers.

"Aw, man," the pilot said, as he stepped out into the rapidly increasing downpour. "I finally get a chance to get off the Galactica and I get rained on. Lords, I hate rain!"

Lee and I exchanged glances. Once, I might have agreed with the man, but I don't think I'll ever feel quite the same way about rain again.

"Ensign Mullen, sir," the young man said, introducing himself and offering a salute. "I work in the Chief Steward's Office."

After Lee had introduced both of us, he asked, "Do you need us to help you with anything?"

"No, thank you, sir, I have two more men with me in the tanker," Mullen said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder at the interior of the ship.

"Do you need us to stick around and give you an escort back to the Galactica?"

"No, thank you, sir, Commander Adama has moved the fleet closer to the planet and has several Vipers out patrolling the area. We should be pretty well covered. And it's going to take us several trips to get all the ships filled up. You two may as well head back to the Galactica and dry off. There's no sense in all of us standing around getting wet."

Lee smiled. "Alright then, we'll just grab our equipment and get out of your way."

As we headed back to the cave to gather up the lantern and all the testing equipment, I found myself suddenly reluctant to leave the planet. While the incessant rain was starting to get annoying and I was definitely feeling the cold, I still didn't want to leave. As Lee had pointed out, when would I be able to enjoy fresh, clean, un-recycled air again... if ever? It was with some reluctance that I climbed back into my Viper.

Settling myself into the padded seat, I tried not to notice the water dripping off my hair and the end of my nose or the way my flight suit clung uncomfortably to my arms and legs. Theoretically our flight suits were supposed to be water resistant, but evidently only up to a certain point and Lee and I had obviously exceeded that point. Lords, even my underwear was soaking wet! I can now personally state that there is not much worse than having a chapped ass, especially when moisturizing lotion is fast becoming a precious commodity.

I tried cranking up the heating unit in my Viper, but there was so much moisture present that all I accomplished was steaming up the interior of the canopy. I had to turn the heat off so that I could see where I was flying. It was a very long flight back to the Galactica.

As I should have known there would be, there was a price to be paid for the peace and tranquility that Lee and I had found on the planet. By the next night, my chest and sinuses were so congested that I could hardly breathe. I was running a low-grade fever and had developed a nasty, body- convulsing cough. Lying in my bunk, trying unsuccessfully to stifle my latest coughing bout, I heard Boomer shift around in the bed above me. I was keeping her awake. I had gone to the Life Station earlier that afternoon and had been excused from duty, so I didn't have to be up early the next day. But Boomer did and so did most everyone else around me.

Quietly, I slipped out of bed, dragging a blanket with me. I was considering sleeping in one of the comfy leather chairs in the pilots' briefing room. The chairs were designed to recline so that pilots could nap in them between missions, when necessary. But as I was leaving general quarters, I had to pass Lee's state-room. Even through the metal hatch door, I could hear the sound of his coughing. Obviously I wasn't the only one who had caught a cold while down on the planet.

What the hell, I thought, misery loves company. Besides there wasn't much point in the two of us spreading our germs all over the ship. I knocked quietly on the hatch. It took a moment for the door to open. Ever since women first began serving on military warships, Colonial Fleet regulations specified that all personnel were required to sleep in, at least, one regulation tank top and underwear. In dutiful compliance with that rule, Lee was wearing a gray undershirt and a pair of snug, black boxer-briefs.

"Nice legs," I said, with my best cheeky grin. Personally, I preferred to pair sweat pants with my undershirt.

"What do you want Starbuck?" he asked, ignoring my comment. His nose was quite red and sore-looking and his voice was raspy.

"My coughing is keeping everyone else in quarters awake. Since you and I seem to be in similar straits, care for some company?"

I knew he was really sick when, without even looking around to see if anyone had seen us, he opened the door wider to admit me into the room. Neither of us said anything as we settled ourselves under the covers in his narrow bed. It was a close fit, so we had no choice but to lie on our sides, our bodies spooned together. We had only been lying there for a few minutes before my sore throat started to itch again and I was coughing away.

"Didn't they give you anything for that cough at the Life Station?" Lee asked.

"Yeah, they gave me some syrup, but it's gone already and they told me I couldn't have anymore unless I was seriously in danger of hacking up a lung. How 'bout you?"

"Gone."

"Hey, I know what would make my throat feel better," I said abruptly, glancing over my shoulder at him. "Do you have any of those chocolates left?"

"Top drawer of my desk."

Pushing the covers aside, I climbed out and went to Lee's desk. I found the now nearly empty bag and grabbed two chocolates. Returning to the bed, I unwrapped one of my prizes and popped it into my mouth as I settled back under the covers.

"Hey, where's mine?" Lee asked.

"You didn't say you wanted one. I guess, you'll just have to get up and get it yourself."

"But you grabbed two chocolates. I saw both of them in your hand."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean the other one was for you."

"Oh, fine, be that way!" he said in mock indignation. "Just answer one question for me... Are you still ticklish?" he asked, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"No," I said quickly, trying to keep my voice level.

"Oh, okay," he said, sounding somewhat disappointed.

Thinking that perhaps I had successfully put him off, I settled back into a more comfortable position. After a moment, I felt something poke me sharply in the ribs. Since I am, in fact, extremely ticklish, I immediately convulsed away from him, almost dumping myself off the bed.

"Hmm, I thought you weren't ticklish," Lee commented smugly.

"I'm not, you just got me in a strange spot," I said defensively.

"Oh, alright, well, let's try a different spot," he said, poking me again, this time in the stomach, with the same result. "I don't know, unless you've got an awful lot of those 'strange spots', I'd have to say that you're still ticklish."

He continued to poke me in the ribs and stomach, while I squirmed and writhed on the bed, trying to fend his hands away.

"Alright, alright" I gasped, "you can have the other piece of chocolate!"

"Thank you," he said sweetly as I handed it to him.

Contented, we both settled back into our original positions. Within minutes I could hear Lee's breathing gradually slow and deepen with sleep. I have always been envious of anyone who could fall asleep so quickly and easily. No matter how tired I am, it always seems to take me at least an hour to fall asleep.

As I lay there, I noted how well our bodies seemed to fit together. It surprises me. We are fairly close in height, Lee being average, at best, and me being somewhat tall. I would have thought this might make our positions awkward, but it didn't seem to. He rolled closer to me in his sleep and snuggled his face into the crook of my neck. I could feel his warm breath on my skin.

All in all, I decided that it was a pretty good day. We had found a large supply of fresh water for the fleet. We had enjoyed watching a thunderstorm together and even though we had both caught a cold, that wasn't entirely a waste either. After all, it had given me the excuse I needed to sleep, warm and contented, in the arms of my very best friend. And sometimes that was all you needed to get you through the long nights.

THE END