Kara finally allowed herself to relax as she brought the second Viper in for a smooth landing. Tyrol knew his birds, and she hadn't found a single glitch in any system. She was more relieved than she cared to really admit.
On the other hand, if she'd gotten herself killed, she wouldn't have to go face the Commander with her side of what had happened. She could only imagine what he must be thinking – kill one Adama and then get involved with the other – but it wasn't like that. It wasn't. She hadn't planned to fall for Lee. Hell, she wasn't even sure that she had fallen for Lee. She just knew that she cared about him, and for now that was enough. They gave one another comfort, and relief, and maybe just a little more than that.
As the magnetic locks engaged and the lift carried her down towards the bay, she let herself lean against the backrest. She was tired, but not as tired as she had been before. Lee had given her a pretty terrific gift the night before – several hours of uninterrupted sleep – and she was using it well. She hoped that he had gotten the same, but she doubted it. If she knew him, he'd probably got her to sleep and then worked through the night. It was just the way he was; a full desk was something he couldn't handle.
In all, she supposed that Lee was doing a fairly competent job of settling into the CAG position. It was something that Kara truly hadn't wanted; she just wanted to fly. Lee had a better mind for the organization and paperwork that the job required, and in all he was a fair leader as well. Once the squads got past the fact that he was an outsider, he would be just fine. Well, that and once the emergencies stopped creeping up on them. It seemed for every problem that they solved on the deck, another made itself known. She didn't know how long it would be until things leveled out, but she hoped it was soon – for all their sakes.
The moment that she felt the lift lock into place, Kara popped the seal on the canopy and slid it forward. Cally was there within ten seconds, reaching in to remove Kara's helmet and take the collar that held it secure. Everything was going just according to routine, and that was a good thing. She needed the calm to prepare herself for what was to come.
And it had to happen; that was the hell of it. A glance to her right as she climbed down the metal ladder to the deck showed Lee leaning casually against a bulkhead with a clipboard before him. He acknowledged her with no more than a raised eyebrow, but she knew that he'd been worried. She was also pretty sure that he'd kept his word and stayed out of the control room. At least, she hoped so.
Kara headed for the ready room, taking off the pressure and flight suits and hanging them up to dry, and then grabbing a duty uniform to take with her into the showers. She cleaned off the sweat that was inevitable given the material of the suits, put on the more comfortable clothes, and then prepared herself for battle. It was a mental exercise that she had learned years before. She had just never needed to use it against the Commander.
William Adama was a reasonable man. He was tolerant, patient, and he'd been as much of a mentor as a commander to her. He had seen past the run-ins with the security personnel and the drunken brawls that she'd been known for, and he'd believed in the pilot that was underneath the crap. He had told her as much on more than one occasion. And when Zak had asked her to marry him, the eldest Adama had welcomed her to the family with open arms. Even after Zak's death, he hadn't withdrawn that acceptance. He had still believed in her.
On the day that she and Zak would have been married, Kara had gotten up and taken a drink, and she hadn't put the bottle down until it was empty. She didn't remember a lot of what went on that day, only the pain and regret and guilt that had seemed to swamp her. When she had finally dried out enough to think, she had found herself on the floor of a military prison with William Adama sitting before her with sad eyes and a patient expression. She had tried then to talk her way out of the situation, but apparently she'd done a lot more talking when she'd been drunk. She had told him about Zak's test flight, told him that Zak never should have soloed, and she had told him that his son's death was all her fault. And yet even knowing that, the man that should have been her father-in-law simply took her by the hand, helped her to the head so she could puke for a good ten minutes, then he'd cleaned her up and taken her home. After she'd slept it off, he had still been there. He had told her that the past was over and done, and that he'd already lost one of his children; he didn't intend to lose a second. And then he had held her while she cried until she didn't have any tears left.
Her assignment to the Galactica had come the week after that, and she had known that he'd pulled more than a few strings to make it happen. Ready for a change, and grateful for the implied forgiveness, she had accepted the assignment and had done her best to keep out of trouble and do her job to the best of her ability. She had still gotten into a few tight spots over the two years she'd served under him – it was inevitable given her personality – but it hadn't been anything that seemed to really test him.
This was another matter entirely.
Kara stared at the door before her. It was a standard hatch, and one she had passed through on a dozen occasions. It had never seemed so forbidding as it did at that moment. With a deep breath she knocked on the door, knowing that the late hour made it damned likely that he was there.
"Come," he commanded. Well, that took care of any possibility of sneaking out of this before he found her.
Kara spun the wheel to release the hatch, then pushed the door open with a loud creak. Damn. If the Commander didn't oil his hinges, why in hell had Ripper? Setting that thought aside, she moved into the room to face one of the few men that she respected unconditionally. "Sir?"
"Over here, Starbuck," he said simply. He was standing with his back to her, sorting through something on his desk and apparently not finding what he wanted. He shifted things for a moment more, then appeared to give up his search. With an irritated expression, he turned towards her and gestured her to the chair next to his desk. She took it, perching on it as though she expected to need to make a quick escape. "What can I do for you?" he asked.
She took a deep breath, and then another. She needed to do this, and yet she couldn't remember anything ever being so difficult. "I need to talk to you about this morning," she finally admitted.
"No, you don't," he told her firmly.
"Yes, I do," she corrected, and then added a hasty, "Sir."
He gave her a look that she couldn't interpret, then finally gestured with his hands and eyes for her to go ahead. His expression seemed to say that whatever she said was of no consequence, but he would allow her do it anyway. "Whatever… discipline that Captain Adama is facing, I think I deserve the same thing."
"You were neither the senior officer involved, nor were you on duty," he told her simply.
"No," she admitted, blushing brightly despite her best efforts. "But he was there for me, so it's my responsibility too."
"Starbuck," he began, and then he stopped for a moment and looked away from her. "Kara," he corrected with a sigh. "I understand your wanting to protect him; really I do. But this isn't something within your power to correct. Lee knows his job, and he knows to do it. Now, it's unlikely that he'll receive more than a Letter of Reprimand, but failure to report during a wartime situation is not a matter to be taken lightly."
"And the fraternization, and PDA?"
"I was… surprised," he admitted. "And angry. I also jumped to conclusions regarding what exactly was happening, and that isn't my place."
"What exactly did you think was happening?" she asked in confusion.
It was hard to tell if the Commander was blushing – he had a dark complexion to start with – but Kara thought she saw a darkening to the color on his cheeks. "That's not important," he hedged.
"I was there," she reminded him. "I'd like to know what you thought you saw; what it was that surprised you so much, and made you so angry." She knew that she was pressing him, and as her commanding officer he had every right to ignore her question, but she hoped that he'd give her the respect of an answer.
"At the Academy," Adama began. "Lee had a… reputation with women. It was less than appropriate."
"I was there," she told him with a smile. "And it was very much exaggerated. Yes, he dated. And I'm not going to tell you that he never got… physically involved with anyone, but he wasn't by any means inappropriate."
"I don't think this is a discussion we need to have," he told her simply.
"I just want to understand," she explained. "You were furious with him. I heard the screaming through the hatch, and it was closed. What was he doing that was so wrong? Do you even know what was happening in his room?"
"I saw exactly what was happening in that room," he muttered, and this time Kara was sure that it was a blush staining his cheeks.
"No, you didn't," she said softly. "You saw… a consequence of what was happening there. Lee is one of the good guys, and he's probably the only thing that's kept me from going insane since this all started." Kara ran her hands through her hair, sweeping it out of her face, and then stood to pace slightly in the small room. "There's nothing left," she told him softly. "Everything is coming apart, and every time I close my eyes I see bodies, and destruction, and I don't have a clue how we're going to get through this. And there aren't many people who know just how close to the edge I got before Lee realized what was going on and gave me… someplace safe to be." She finally turned and faced William Adama. "I don't want to see him punished because he was taking care of me. And whatever you saw – or think you saw – that's what was happening. Lee was just taking care of me."
"Kara, I appreciate what you're saying. But if we don't maintain some semblance of order in the ranks, there will be no way to hold the military together. If it had been anyone other than me who walked into that room, this discussion would be academic because you'd both be up on formal charges."
"But it was you," she implored. "And you know Lee. You know his sense of responsibility, and honor, and all the rest. You know him, whatever the disagreements that you've had. Losing track of time is a very human mistake, and that's all he really did wrong."
"He was sleeping with someone beneath him in his direct chain of command," the Commander corrected.
"If the human race is going to survive at all, maybe the first thing that needs to happen is getting rid of this stupid restriction on who can care about who. Because the rules don't change anything; they just get people in trouble. Even if he'd never touched me, do you think it would change how he feels about me, or the way I feel about him?"
Adama faced her directly, and she found herself captured by eyes that were far more similar to Lee's than she would have believed, despite their different color and brackets of age around them. "And how is that?" he asked softly.
"I don't have a clue," she admitted. "But I know that when I'm with him, it's just a little bit easier to face the world, or what's left of it. I don't want to lose that, and I sure as hell don't want him court-martialed because of it."
They stood there facing one another for a long time. Kara didn't break eye contact with the Commander, and neither did he back down from her. It seemed to be an impasse of sorts, and finally Kara used the only weapon she had remaining.
"If it hadn't been Lee," she began, then she shook her head. "If it had been anyone but Lee, would you be this upset?"
"It wasn't anyone else," he said softly. "It was my CAG."
"It was your son," she said simply. "I know that's why you're so upset. If you'd walked in on Ripper and he'd had someone in his bed, you would have backed out and probably never even told him."
Finally, Adama smiled. "Actually, then we'd be discussing infidelity rather than fraternization. Neither is acceptable under military law."
Kara shook her head and did her best to smile back. It wasn't very close. He wasn't being fair. He was expecting far more from Lee than he would have asked of any other man. Yes, Lee was his son, but he was also young, overwhelmed, and just as distraught as the rest of them. Being the Commander's son made his situation worse, not better. "At least think about it," she requested. "And try to be objective. Lee's allowed to be human sometimes, too."
"I will take that… under advisement," he finally said, but his smile was gone. "Kara, he has responsibilities. He has to take them seriously."
"He does. You know he does." She ran her hands through her hair again in frustration. "He takes it all too seriously. He agonizes over every schedule, and he's so damned afraid he's going to make a mistake that he triple-checks everything and he can't get through half the work. He's never done the job before, doesn't know the crews or the paperwork, and we're in the middle of a frakking war. If he takes it any more seriously he'll give himself a stroke."
"Are you finished?" he asked.
She thought a moment, then shook her head. "No, Sir. There's one more thing. I realize that he hasn't been fair to you," she admitted. "And most of that's my fault. I should have told him the truth a long time ago. But please don't hold that against him. Just because he wasn't fair, that doesn't mean you can't be." She took a deep breath and let it out, finally relaxing her stance. "That's all."
"Then you're dismissed," he said, almost gently.
"Thank you. And… thank you for listening."
"I hope he realizes what he has in you," Adama murmured very quietly.
"He's got a friend," she told him. "Friends stand up for one another."
"So I see. Good night, Starbuck."
She glanced at her watch and grinned. "Or good morning, as the case may be."
He nodded, and she opened the hatch to leave. She had one foot out, the other still in, when she heard the claxon. Emergency medical crews were being called to the port launch tubes. Before she could turn back around to seek guidance from her commander – whether to head for the deck or to go back to quarters so she was out of the way – she heard his phone buzz. She waited as he picked up the receiver, said a few terse words, and then headed for the hatch at a run.
"An accident in the port launch tube," he said on his way out the door.
Kara didn't wait around for an invitation, but instead she followed him at a dead run. He could move pretty fast for his for an old man, especially when the situation was urgent.
They were shoved aside in the main corridor by emergency response teams from the Life Station, but that was the only thing that slowed them down. In moments, she was following him out onto the flight deck. Before they were anywhere near the tube, she heard the screaming. She knew Tyrol's bellow from a distance, but the yelling seemed to be one-sided. The emergency crews were already into the launch tube, and Kara was trying desperately to figure out what the hell was going on.
"What the frak were you thinking?" Tyrol screamed at the top of his lungs.
The voice that responded was painfully calm. If she hadn't known it so well, she wouldn't have heard the tension. "Any maintenance worker should know not to go into a hot tube. That's basic safety."
"Are you saying I didn't train my crew?" Tyrol yelled back.
Lee's voice stayed calm. "I'm saying that communication broke down," he said simply. "No one should have been in a hot tube, and the tube should have been visually checked before launch. More than one thing went wrong. We need to look at the whole situation to be sure it doesn't happen again."
"And how in hell is that going to help Sanders?" the Chief screamed. "Are you going to tell his wife that he's a smudge on the side of the tube? Damn-it he was only nineteen years old."
Lee turned his back on Tyrol, and Kara saw that his jaw was so tight that his teeth were grinding. "Do we have a report on the Viper, yet?" he called over to one Specialist.
The crewman asked a few questions on the wireless, then gave a thumbs up. Apparently, the Viper was fine, whatever else had happened. Kara wanted to know what the frak was going on.
Just as the Chief was beginning another rant, this time at Lee's back, Commander Adama stepped in, physically holding the enlisted man's arm. "Chief Tyrol," he commanded. "Report."
"The CAG sent a man into a hot tube," Tyrol growled. He said the title like an epithet.
"I gave orders for a loose panel to be repaired in the tube," Lee corrected, his voice still a deadly calm monotone. "I did not send anyone into a hot tube. The tube was clear when I gave the order."
"The tube was loaded and launch was scheduled," Tyrol argued.
"Chief," Adama interrupted. "Give me facts, and facts only. What happened here?"
"Specialist Sanders followed orders to secure that panel. He went into the tube, a Viper was launched, and there isn't enough left of my crewman to scrape off the wall."
"What about launch control?" Kara asked, jumping in even when it wasn't her place. There were dozens of safeguards in place to prevent accidents of this sort from happening. She wanted to know where the chain had broken down.
"I intend to find out," Lee said calmly.
"Negative," the Commander said. "I'll have security start taking statements and we'll run a formal inquiry. Chief, I need you to get me the information on any remaining family for Specialist…" He waited for Tyrol to supply the name.
"Sanders."
"Sanders," he repeated. "If he has family on board, they need to be notified in an appropriate manner. Captain Apollo?" he said, turning to face Lee.
"Yes, Sir?"
"Report to quarters until further notice," Adama said simply. "Your shift was over at nineteen-hundred."
Lee looked like he would argue, but at the last moment he ground his teeth more tightly together and nodded. Then as he turned to walk away, he took the clipboard he'd been holding and deliberately slung it into the nearest wall. There was no doubt that it had been intentional, just as there was no doubt that the board – now in about fifty small pieces – was well beyond repair. Kara listened to the staccato beat of his boots on the deck as he stomped away. She gave the Commander one last glance, but he was involved in a quiet conversation with Tyrol. So Kara did what she needed to do – she took off after Lee at a dead run.