6/11/04
LOVE'S LOST CHILDREN
Chapter 1
"How are you holding up?"
Laura Roslin, president of what was left of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol, turned to see Mother Naomi standing beside her bed in the Life Station. Laura smiled wearily at the younger woman.
"Still alive," she said.
"Well, that's a start, at least."
Naomi Themis was one of the Galactica's three chaplains and, like her counterparts, she acted as counselor, as well as confessor, to the troubled crews of the battlestar. She was a petite, athletic woman in her mid- thirties, with short, dark hair and a very unpriest-like manner, which was perhaps why Laura liked her so much.
"Dr. Soter says that the radiotherapy isn't having an effect on the cancer," Laura said. "He wants to discontinue it and up my dosage of chemotherapy. He also wants to put a central line in my chest. Evidently it can deliver more of the meds than the cannula can."
She gestured to the short, fine tube which had been inserted into a vein in the back of her left hand and which was currently delivering her weekly dose of medication.
"Well, if that's what you need...." Naomi started.
"Yes, but if they increase the medication, it will increase the side- effects. I'm already having trouble... What difference does it make if I'm ill from the cancer or from the chemotherapy? The result is still the same; I can't do my job... Sometimes I wonder if it's even worth the effort. Maybe I should just not bother with the chemo at all. I mean, there's no point in the doctors wasting precious meds on a terminal patient."
"Stop it, Laura! Stop that right now! You've hardly even begun on your chemotherapy and you're ready to quit already? I thought you were a fighter. I thought you wanted to live?"
"I do, but sometimes it's so hard."
Naomi pulled up a chair and sat down. Picking up Laura's free right hand, she cradled it in both of her own. "I know it's hard. It's hard for everybody. And I'll tell you right now, it's not going to get any easier. But you've got a lot to live for. You've got a lot of people counting on you. You're not going to just let them down, are you?"
"Oh, she plays the guilt trip card. You are a priest, aren't you?"
"Oh, yeah, that's my trump every time... Tell me something; who all knows that you're sick?"
"Well, there's you and Billy, Dr. Salik, Dr. Soter, and Cassie. That's about it."
"So, you haven't told the commander?"
"No and I'm not planning on telling him until I absolutely have to."
"Okay, I respect that, but I really think you need to broaden your support base. You need to tell someone else. I mean, Dr. Salik, Dr. Soter, and Cassie are all very busy. They're simply not going to have the time to be there for you in the way that you need. And frankly, neither am I. I promise that I will try to be there for you as much as I can, but there are only three chaplains for the entire crew of 6,000 and there are a lot of people needing spiritual guidance right now. And the commander has asked me to do a full psych evaluation on all of the pilots, so that's going to keep me pretty busy for the next few days."
"Oh, that sounds like fun," Laura said dryly. "But why just the pilots?"
"It's not going to be just the pilots. Daniel is going to be evaluating the bridge staff and Hector is going to be evaluating the deck crews. Those are the three areas of highest job-related stress. Add to that, the stress of the holocaust and you've got some very edgy crewmembers. And now that things have finally calmed down a bit and we've dealt with all the imminently at-risk people, we can move on to more preventive maintenance. And there's actually a Fleet regulation that says that if a pilot is involved in a potentially traumatic event, he has to undergo a full psych evaluation before he can be cleared for flight status. It doesn't get much more traumatic than seeing your home worlds wiped out."
"No, I suppose it doesn't," Laura said sadly. "But the bottom line for me, is that I need to find someone else to whine to."
"I'm sorry, Laura, I'll do my best... What about Billy? Do you talk to him?"
"I'm always a little hesitant to burden Billy with all this. He's so young."
"Yes, he's young, but he's very mature, and I'm sure he wouldn't think of it as a burden."
"No, I suppose not, but he's got a girlfriend now. She works in the CIC... I just don't want to intrude on his life."
Naomi sighed. "Laura, you need people you can talk to. I'm not always going to be around... There's got to be someone on this ship that you feel comfortable talking to... What about Capt. Adama? I've seen the two of talking together."
"We talk about the fleet. He inspected the ships as well, so he understands a lot of the issues I'm dealing with. I like to get his opinions sometimes... But he's not that much older than Billy... No, I don't think so."
"Okay, it was just a suggestion. I mean, I just thought that the two of you do seem to have some things in common and I don't think the captain has that many people to talk to either. Being the CAG, he can't really hang out with the other pilots and he hasn't exactly had a lot of time to get to know anyone else on the ship. So, I just thought the two of you could talk to each other..."
"You're doing that guilt trip thing again."
"Oh, sorry, occupational hazard... Anyway, like I said, it was just a suggestion. I mean, if you have better things to do than spend extra time with an attractive, young pilot. Then, by all means, carry on. That just leaves more for the rest of us."
Laura gave the younger woman a scandalized look. "Listen to you! Is this any way for a priest to talk?"
"Hey, my order did not require vows of chastity. We were even allowed to get married and even have children!" Naomi said.
"And I suppose that was precisely why you chose that particular order?"
"Oh, hell, yes! Does it not say in the Scriptures that we should love our fellow man? I, for one, am all for loving my fellow man."
Laura laughed, for the moment, forgetting her pain and discomfort. "How did you ever make it through seminary?"
"Like I said, it was a very liberal order."
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At around 1316 hours, Kara Thrace finally waltzed into Mother Naomi's office for her 1300 appointment. But since Kara had been seeing Naomi off and on for the entire year and a half that she had been on board the Galactica, the priest was accustomed to the pilot's sometimes loose interpretation of time tables. Kara plopped down on the long, leather couch that ran along one wall, with a sigh.
"Okay, I'm here. Let's do this," she said.
Naomi looked up from the paperwork she had been doing. Grabbing Kara's file from the desk, she stood and moved to sit in the padded rocking chair that sat across from the couch. The chair was not military issue. It was an antique that had once belonged to her grandmother. Naomi had always found the chair relaxing and conducive to deep thought, so she had always taken it with her, where ever she was stationed. As a chaplain, most commanders afforded her a little more leeway than they probably would have for any other officer.
Opening the file, with which she was already quite familiar, Naomi began flipping through the pages. "I see that you got in another fight since we last spoke, and with Col. Tigh, no less," she said, looking up at the younger woman sternly. "Kara, I thought we had dealt with this. I thought we had an understanding that you were supposed to come and see me when ever you felt the need to hit someone."
"Yeah, yeah, I know...," Kara said lamely, looking properly chastened.
It was highly unlikely that she would ever forget that particular conversation. It had occurred during the very first session she had had with the priest and Kara would never forget her first meeting with Mother Naomi Themis. Commander Adama had ordered Kara to speak with the chaplain after she had gotten in a fight with another pilot.
Kara had only been on board the Galactica for about three months. Zac had been dead for about nine months and she was just beginning to move on with her life. At one point, one of her fellow pilots, a young man who frequently flew as her wingman and whose call sign was Thor, had asked her out. She firmly, but politely, said no. A few weeks later, he asked her out a second time. This time, her negative response was not quite so polite. After the third time, she was downright rude. When he actually asked a fourth time, she decked him.
Two days after being told that she had to have counseling, Kara received a note that she was to report to the Galactica's gym for her session. Confused, but curious, she had dutifully gone to the gym at the appointed hour. The room had been almost deserted, except for a short, but muscular, woman who was working out with the heavy body bag suspended from the ceiling. Kara remembered being impressed with the obvious force of the woman's punches.
"Excuse me, are you Mother Naomi?" Kara asked.
The woman stopped her workout and turned to the pilot. "That's right," she said. "And you must be Lt. Thrace."
"Yeah. Listen, for the record, I'm not all that religious, so I'm really not into the whole confession thing, okay?"
"That's fine, I'm not asking you to confess. I'm not just a priest, I'm also a certified psychologist. If it helps, you can drop the Mother title and just call me Naomi or, if you're a stickler for formalities, you can address me as Capt. Themis, that's my rank. Take your pick... Now, the reason I asked you to meet me here, is that it seems that you and I have something in common. It seems that we both like to hit things. So, I just thought maybe we should get together on this. The next time you feel like hitting something, or someone, you let me know and we can come down here and spar for a couple of rounds."
Kara rolled her eyes. "I am not going to hit a priest," she said, starting to walk away.
"Oh? What's the matter? Afraid that I might hit back?"
"Excuse me?" Kara asked, stopping and turning back to face the smaller woman. "Why would that frighten me?"
"Well, I've looked at your files, Lieutenant. You seem perfectly capable of throwing punches, but I've yet to see any evidence that you can actually take one."
"I don't generally give my opponents the chance to throw any punches," Kara said smugly.
"No, you don't, do you? Of course, that's probably because you seem to have a preference for hitting men."
"Yeah, so? They all deserved it."
"Oh? From my understanding, Thor's only crime was asking you out. That doesn't strike me as sufficient provocation for assaulting someone. Was I misinformed? Did he actually try something? Did he touch you at all?"
"No, he just wouldn't take no for an answer."
"Did you speak to Ripper about this? As CAG, it is part of his job to settle problems between pilots."
"No, I didn't tell Rip. Why should I? I was perfectly capable of handling it myself."
"Yes, so I've seen," Naomi said, folding her arms across her chest, her voice dripping with disdain. "You've shown yourself quite capable of hitting opponents you know perfectly well, aren't going to hit you back. You should be very proud."
"No one was stopping them from hitting me back," Kara said defensively.
"No? You and Thor were standing in the middle of the squadron ready room, which at the time, was full of pilots. Do you honestly think, any man would strike a woman, regardless of how much she might deserve it, in full view of all those people, and ever expect to live it down?"
Kara was silent for a moment, suddenly uncomfortable. "I didn't really think about that," she said quietly.
"No, obviously not, but I bet he did. You know, I bet he was also aware of the fact that he's probably twice your size and all he would have had to do was land just one punch and you would have been in Life Station. Now, you strike me as a bright girl. I'm betting that deep down, you knew all of this too.
"The bottom line is: you used the fact that you were a woman to take a free shot at that man. And it's bullshit like that that makes all women look bad. I, for one, am personally offended. Now, I'm sorry, Princess, but just because you have a pair of tits, doesn't mean that you get to take a free pop at every man who pisses you off. If you want to live in a society where men are taught not to ever strike a woman, then you need to not take advantage of that policy.
"Now, as I've already said, the next time you feel like hitting someone, you come to me and, make no mistake, Lieutenant, I will not hesitate to hit you back. Do we understand each other?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. We're done here. You're dismissed."
No, Kara had not forgotten that meeting. No one had ever really talked to her that way before. Most people had simply told her that she needed to work on her anger management, which was, of course, so much easier said than done. And Kara Thrace had never been known for her patience. But Naomi had never told her not to hit, she had just said not to hit people. Kara had never taken her up on her offer to spar, she still couldn't quit get past the idea of hitting a priest, but she did follow the woman's lead and spent more time working out on the gym's body bag. She had continued to work with Naomi and she had been doing much better. It had been over a year since she had hit anyone... before the incident with Tigh. But that was different...
"You know how I react to him," Kara said, somewhat defensively.
"Yes, I know," Naomi said with a resigned sigh. "I know your history. He reminds you too much of your abusive, alcoholic father. Obviously we're going to have to work on this some more, because we're all stuck with each other now. You and Tigh are going to have to find some way to get along."
-----Author' note: Okay, I know this scene really has nothing to do with the rest of the story, but this is something that's been really bothering me ever since I saw the mini-series and I just needed to get this off my chest. ...Sorry, if I pissed anybody off. I'll shut up now and let you get on with the story... Sorry-----
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The creak of the rocking chair as it moved back and forth was the only sound in the small, cluttered room. Naomi sat silently, rocking gently and watching Capt. Adama, who sat on the couch opposite, silently watching her. After their initial introductions, she had asked him if there was anything he wanted to discuss with her. He had answered, no, not really. And so they had reached their current stalemate.
Capt. Lee Adama was something of a puzzle to Naomi. As a very temporary transfer, he had arrived on board with no paperwork, no previous psych evaluations to help her solve the mystery he represented. But, while she had never actually met him before today, she was not wholly unfamiliar with him, as his name had come up frequently during her sessions with both Kara and the commander. She resisted the natural impulse to formulate an opinion of him based solely on the input of others, which was why she wanted him to speak first. She wanted him to lead the course of the discussion, so that she could judge him by his own words.
Unfortunately those words were not forthcoming. He sat in silence. Oh well, Naomi thought contentedly, I'm a patient woman and it's his dime. Like it or not, he's stuck with me for the next hour. I've got nowhere else to be. If he wants us to just sit here and stare at each other, that's fine by me. It's not like he's unpleasant to look at.
After several long minutes, Lee looked down at his watch and sighed heavily. He was beginning to fidget, tapping his fingers lightly on the cushion beside him. Lords, he hated these things. Before a flight cadet could become a Viper pilot they had to undergo a series of psych evaluations to determine if they had the proper temperament to fly the vastly expensive, state-of-the-art machines. Lee had hated every single one of them. Kara had assured him that Mother Naomi was different. She didn't act like a priest and she was very understanding as a counselor, but so far, she seemed to be playing the same mind games that every other psychologist he had dealt with had.
Finally taking pity on the young man, Naomi broke the silence first. "You do realize, Captain, that until I approve your evaluation, you're grounded? Now, I've got nothing better to do for the next hour, but if you want to see the inside of a Viper any time soon, I suggest you start talking."
He grimaced. "Okay, look, about these evaluations... You're going to be making a report to the commander, right?"
Ah, I see the problem now, she thought. "Yes, I will be making a report to the commander, but that report will simply state who passed their evaluation and who did not," she said. "Nothing specific will be reported. I assure you, that just because the commander is your father does not mean that you have any less of a right to privacy than anyone else."
"Okay," he said, nodding. "So, where do you want me to start? I know you don't have any of my records."
Opening the disappointingly thin file that was lying in her lap, she glanced at the report from Life Station. "Well, since it seems that you were treated for exhaustion only a few months back, let's start there. How are you sleeping?"
"Fine." He didn't meet her eyes as he said this. When she didn't speak for several minutes, he looked back at her. She was staring at him with impassive dark eyes. She wasn't buying the bullshit. He sighed. "Alright, I still have nightmares sometimes, but I'm sure I'm not the only one. I'm sure most people still do."
"Perhaps, but we're not talking about them, are we? How often is 'sometimes'?"
"I don't know, once or twice a week."
"Tell me about them."
"I keep hearing the voices of the people we left behind on the sub- lights. They're cursing me and begging, and there's nothing I can do to help them. And then I see the Cylon ships move in like birds of prey and pick them off one by one. I hear their screams as they die..."
"Captain, if you had not left those people, you all would have died. You did w-."
"I did what I had to do. Yeah, I know the words," he interrupted quickly, once again not meeting her eyes.
"You know them, but do you hear them?"
"What?" he asked, confused.
"You stopped me before I could say the words. Therefore, you never actually heard them. When someone offers you words of comfort, at least do them the courtesy of listening."
"Why? The words are empty. They don't mean anything," he said bitterly.
"They're only empty when they fall on deaf ears. Look at me, please." When he had done as she had asked, she leaned forward, capturing his gaze and holding it. "You did what you had to do," she said very slowly and distinctly. "Now, you say it."
"I did what I had to do," he repeated, but without much conviction.
"Very good, we're going to repeat this exercise as often as we have to, until you actually start to believe it."
Three days later, having completed her evaluations of all the pilots, Naomi stood in Commander Adama's office, ready to give her report. The commander sat at his desk, flipping through the pages she had given him.
"I see that all of the pilots passed their evaluations," he said, eyes still skimming the pages. "That's good."
"Yes, but there are a few that I want to continue counseling."
"Oh?"
"There are a couple of former Pegasus pilots that I'd like to spend some more time with. And Lt. Dagon is showing some anger issues I'd like to work on. And, considering her altercation with Col. Tigh, I'd like to continue seeing Lt. Thrace."
Adama shook his head slightly and gave an indulgent smile at that comment. "Is that it?" he asked.
"No, I'd also like to continue to counsel Capt. Adama."
The commander looked up sharply at this statement, gazing at the woman over the top of his spectacles.
"There's nothing to be concerned about," Naomi said hastily. "I just think he needs to have someone to whom he can vent some of his emotions. I know that he and Starbuck are close, but as CAG there are certain things he's not going to be at liberty to discuss with her. Tell me, do the two of you talk much?"
Adama shrugged uncomfortably. "Sometimes. We have our good days and our bad days."
"Like most fathers and sons. Who usually initiates these talks?"
"Me, I guess."
"That's good, don't stop."
"That's it? That's all the advice you can give me?"
"Pretty much. I'm sorry, but when it comes to repairing relationships, there are very few easy fixes."
"So, did the two of you talk about me at all?" he asked hesitantly.
"No, not really, not this time. But, don't worry, I'm sure we'll get around to you eventually. But don't you dare think for a minute that I'm going to tell you what he says."
"Oh, no, sir, I wouldn't dream of it!" Adama said quickly.
"Good."
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Skeletal hands clawed at her limbs, tearing her clothes and pulling her down. She struggled frantically, but she was beginning to sink into the thick, warm, viscous liquid from which the hands emerged. Lower and lower she sank until the putrid liquid covered her mouth and threatened to fill her nostrils...
Laura awoke with a gasp, sitting up in her bed, gulping in the blessedly clean air. She was trembling violently and her heart was racing. All around her was thick darkness and she felt it pressing in on her as if it too was actively seeking to drown her. She fumbled quickly for the bedside lamp and switched it on. The small illumination it offered didn't help much. The shadows that had been chased back by the weak light now seemed to crouch in the corners of the room like malevolent, feral animals waiting to attack.
She needed to get out of this room, but she really didn't have anywhere else to go. Mother Naomi had been called away to deal with some crisis on one of the civilian ships and the last time Laura checked, the priest had still not returned. Billy's room was only a few meters away, but Laura was worried that if she knocked, she might not find him alone. She truly did not wish to intrude. He and Duella deserved whatever happiness they could find with each other.
Laura supposed that this was exactly what Naomi had warned her about. The few people she trusted were out of reach and she had no one else to turn to. But, right now, she desperately needed company. She needed to hear another human's voice, to let her know that she wasn't completely alone in the universe.
Throwing the covers back, she climbed out of bed and pulled on the sweat pants and bulky sweat shirt that Naomi had given her. Slipping her feet into the slightly too small slippers, she headed out to walk the halls of the ship. It was not a truly satisfying activity, but it was the best she could come up with at the moment. If she couldn't talk to someone, then she needed to be moving. Besides she was more far likely to encounter people in the corridors than sitting in her room. And perhaps simply seeing other people might make her feel less lonely.
Unfortunately at this late hour, there was only the barest minimum of crew on duty and most of them were actually at their posts instead of out wandering the halls. So, she had very little to distract her mind from dwelling on the disturbing dream and the morbid feelings it invoked... She was dying. The cancer was slowly dragging her down as surely as the groping hands in her dream. The chemotherapy was not working. The doctors kept telling her that it was still early, but she was not holding out for any miracles. She had stopped believing in those a long time ago.
So preoccupied were her thoughts that she did not hear the sounds of running footsteps approaching and as she rounded the next corner, unprepared, she was bowled over by the oncoming runner. She went down hard, landing on her backside in an untidy sprawl.
"Oh, my Lords, Madam President, are you alright? I'm so sorry!"
Laura looked up at the concerned face of Capt. Apollo. He was sweaty and still breathing hard from his run. He was crouching down beside her and quickly reached up to pull a pair of headphones out of his ears.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been running with headphones on, but there's usually hardly anyone else in the halls at this hour. Are you hurt?" he demanded.
"I'm fine, Captain," she assured him. "I think my pride is more wounded than my body. It's not your fault. I should have been paying more attention to my surroundings."
"No, it's my fault entirely. I'm sorry."
"Fine, we were both careless," she conceded, accepting the arm he offered to help her up. It was with some confusion that she found herself taking note of the warmth and strength of that arm and when it was withdrawn, she suddenly found herself floundering.
Lee quickly reached out to steady her, this time grasping her waist. "You're not alright," he said. "Let me take you to the Life Station."
"No!" she said quickly, not wishing to spend any more time there than she absolutely had to. "I'm fine, really, just a little winded is all... You can let go of me now."
"Oh, sorry," he said a bit sheepishly as released her.
"Well, I'm sorry I interrupted your run, Captain," she said, trying to regain her composure. "I'll let you get on with it."
"Oh, well, it's probably about time that I started my cool down anyway. Mind if I walk with you?" he asked, switching off the small, mini- disc player clipped onto the waistband of his running shorts.
"No, actually, I'd like that."
She gestured for him to lead the way and they started off in the direction that he had previously been heading. He let her set their pace.
"So, where is Lt. Thrace?" Laura asked. "Isn't she your usual running partner?"
"She has an early shift, so she's sleeping... Well, she should be sleeping, but you never know with Kara."
Laura smiled. "You two are very close, aren't you?"
"We've known each other for a long time."
"I know it's none of my business, but, well, I hear the rumors too... Is it true that the two of you are...?"
"No. Kara was engaged to my younger brother."
"Oh, I didn't realize you had any siblings. So, I take it that he died in the Cylon attacks?"
"No, actually, he died two years before. It was a Viper training accident."
"So, he was a Colonial pilot as well."
"Well, he never actually made it that far."
A reflective silence fell between them as each became lost in their private thoughts.
"So, since we're being personal...," Lee began, bringing Laura back to the present. "Who did you lose in the attacks? Did you have a husband or any children?"
"No, to both. Well, I had an ex-husband, but we had been divorced for a long time. We had gotten married right out of college, but when we learned that, due to an accident I'd had when I was younger, I couldn't have children... Well, he'd had his heart set on having a big family and I couldn't give him one... So, he found someone who could and I devoted myself to teaching other people's children..." Her voice was very quiet as she spoke and her eyes seemed to be looking inward, at images only she could see.
"I'm sorry," Lee said softly. "You deserve better than that."
"Do I?" she asked. She had stopped walking and was looking at him with a strange, almost calculating, expression, as if she was sizing him up.
"Madam President, is there something you'd like to tell me?" he asked.
"Please, call me Laura," she said and resumed walking.
Catching up to her quickly, he decided not to point out that she had just completely ignored his question. He decided to change the subject instead.
"So, what nocturnal demon is it that drives the president from her bed and induces her to wander the halls in middle of the night?"
"A nightmare," she said, opting for the partial truth.
"Yeah, me too," he said quietly.
"Really... You face possible death every time you launch your Viper. What is it that could possibly give you nightmares?"
Lee glanced over at the woman, wondering for a moment if she was mocking him in some way, but he saw only sincere curiosity.
"Oh, a lot of things... Lately, I've been dreaming about all those people on the sub-lights that we left behind. I hear their voices cursing and damning me."
"Why would they do that?"
"Well, it was my fault that they were left behind."
Laura stopped walking again, so abruptly this time, that Lee kept going for a few steps before he even realized that she was no longer at his side. He stopped and turned to face her, confused by her actions. He was surprised by the look of complete shock and dismay on her face.
"Captain, it was my decision to leave those people behind. If anyone is to blame, it's me," she said earnestly.
"If I hadn't pushed for it, would you have done it?"
"No, probably not, and right now, we would both be dead because of it. As cruel as it sounds, it was the right thing to do. And I don't think any of us had the courage to make that suggestion, but you did. By pushing for it, you kept me from making a, second, very bad decision and you saved all of our lives. You have nothing to feel guilty for."
She had moved closer to him as she had spoken and now she reached out and laid one hand along his jaw. At that moment she was struck by two completely irrelevant and inappropriate thoughts. Firstly, she was struck by how similar their heights were. Perhaps she had spent too much time in the company of her aide Billy, who was well over six foot, but for some reason she found the knowledge that Capt. Apollo was only a few inches taller than her, oddly endearing. It was nice not to have someone loom over her. And secondly, she suddenly noticed how the lighting on the ship brought out faint reddish highlights in his dark hair.
She had no idea how long they had stood there staring at each other, but she abruptly became aware of how improper this would look if someone were to stumble upon them. She quickly let her hand drop and turned to continue down the hall.
"We should keep moving," she said, as she did. "You don't want your muscles to cramp up."
"Right," he said softly, trailing after her.
As they continued on their walk, the silence that now fell between them had suddenly grown awkward. Lee wasn't quite sure what to make of it, or the strange exchange that had immediately preceded it. After several long, uncomfortable minutes, they found themselves standing in front of a hatch door bearing a plaque that read: Pilot General Quarters.
"Well, this is my stop," he said.
"So it is. Tell me something, do you sleep in the same barracks with the rest of the pilots?"
"No, I have a private room. There are a few perks to being the CAG."
"That's good to know."
Is it? Lee thought, in mild surprise.
She gave him a mysterious smile in response to his arched eyebrows and unasked question.
"Sleep well, Apollo," she eventually said.
"You too... Laura."
To be continued...