Chapter 2
This was a surprise, Lee Adama thought. And a treat as well. He leaned back against the side of the lockers, keeping out of view of his pilots. He hadn't meant to wind up spying on the men, but now that he was hidden in a corner of the ready room, it seemed too good an opportunity to pass up. There were things which could only be learned through covert operations, and finding out just what was going on in his squadron was unfortunately one of them. Even after a year of fairly adequate leadership, he was not well liked in the squadron. He'd come in from the outside, was related to the commander, and he was not above quoting the manuals when a situation demanded it. None of these three qualities had endeared him to anyone, least of all his pilots.
"Damned schedule is frakking stupid," muttered Adam Hennings – Rocker – from his location at his locker. Lee didn't have to be watching to know that the man must be flipping long, blond, well outside regulation hair back behind one shoulder. The playboy seemed to think he was the Lords' gift to women, although from what Lee had heard the ladies weren't buying it. Still, a pilot was a pilot, and Lee had limited resources to work with, even after they had pooled all the under-aged, retired, and civilian pilots. Sure, he could make an issue of the hair, but so far it had seemed to be the least of his problems. Well, there was that and that he had been hoping that the Lieutenant would grow up a bit and deal with it on his own. Lee had always been responsible; he didn't understand when others weren't.
"Tell me about it." Lee didn't recognize that voice right off, but it was likely another of his pilots as they were about the only ones to use the ready room on a regular basis.
Lee heard bumps and thuds that told him gear was being stowed and doors slammed before the next voice was heard, although the words were soft and not clear enough to make out. This was another of his pilots – Lieutenant Kevin Jacks, more commonly known as Popcorn – and while his words were mumbled, he didn't sound any happier about Lee's scheduling than Rocker had. Lee really didn't care about their opinions on his schedules – he had his reasons for everything he did - but it was interesting to find out their perspectives just the same. If any one of them had come to him with a legitimate concern, he would have managed it quickly and efficiently. The fact that they preferred to grumble behind his back only served to prove that there was nothing solid in their complaints.
"Thrace gets all the decent patrols," Rocker rumbled, his deep voice at odds with his childish whining.
"That may change," the unknown voice said hopefully. "From what I saw the other day, she and the CAG may not be quite so tight."
"Hmm?" Rocker again.
"She's hanging with the big dogs," the unknown voice announced. "Saw her the other day in the mess hall all snuggled up to the Commander. Guess frakking the CAG isn't high enough up on her ladder."
Lee's breath came in suddenly, albeit quietly. What the hell…?
"You're kidding me!" Popcorn announced. "The Commander?"
"Guess one Adama is as good as another," chuckled Rocker. "She was frakking the youngest when she was at the academy."
"You're all insane," Lieutenant Evans argued. Great, Lee thought. Just what he needed. At the moment, he really wished that he could see around the lockers to find out who all was in there. The room had been empty when he'd walked past the lockers to the head, but apparently it was brimming with people now. And of all the people Lee didn't really want to deal with, Charles Evans was easily at the top of the list.
Evans was probably the one person on board the Galactica who Kara simply couldn't stand, although she'd never told Lee why. He was objective enough to realize that her opinions had clouded his, but Lee still found little redeeming about the cocky and rude fighter jock. The feeling was mutual if it came to that; Evans was the first to give Lee a hard time, whether it was disagreeing about the Viper he was assigned, grumbling about the length of patrols, or having a fit about taking a shift that wasn't preferred. While Evans was now arguing with his friends' claims, Lee couldn't imagine it was to defend Kara's honor.
"She ain't frakking anyone, at least not an Adama. Well, not unless they got a little sister we don't know about."
Evans' voice was low, threatening, and it was all that Lee could manage to not step out and put a fist through the egotistical pilot's face. Lords, Lee thought, he'd been spending too much time around Kara when his first thought was to hit the man, however appealing the idea now appeared. Diplomacy, Lee reminded himself. The heart of command was diplomacy.
"What?" Rocker asked.
Evans' laugh sent a chill up Lee's spine. He knew instinctively that he wasn't going to like what came next, regardless of how little he thought of the idiotic pilot's opinion. Lee was used to being insulted – it came with the position of authority – so he wasn't taking it personally. And he could imagine that the man had little liking for Kara, who could out fly, out fight, and even out cuss him. Evans didn't like being shown up, and Kara had done it more than any other three pilots on the squad. Privately, Lee loved that she kept him in his place; professionally, he wished she'd stop pouring tylium on an already volatile situation.
"She wouldn't frak a man unless it was on a bet," Evans finally said with a false authority that rankled Lee's nerves. "Think about it. Aside from the CAG who writes her evals, have you ever even seen her even look at a guy?" He pause for what he no doubt believed to be dramatic effect. "On the other had, we have Valerii, who also won't give any of us the time of day. Those two are like a set when they're off duty. I'm thinking that Starbuck and Boomer have something going on the side."
"No way," Rocker said with a laugh. "Wasn't she engaged to a guy?"
"A Commander's son," Evans corrected. "Probably trying to get some rank out of the bargain. You'll notice she didn't marry anyone."
"I still think she's got it for the Commander," the unknown voice argued. Lee really wished he could place it. "You should have seen them in there, sitting in the back of the hall and laughing like kids. It was pathetic. They must have been there for like an hour; it was disgusting. I mean, he's ancient."
Lee rolled his eyes at the childish phrasing. He'd known that he had a crew of mostly rooks, but he hadn't realized that some of them should still be in diapers. Lee'd had just about had enough. Unfortunately, he knew that when he stepped out and made himself visible he would be giving away one of his favorite hiding spots. No, he didn't spy on them often, but it could be handy to be able to find out what they said behind his back. Still, while he didn't mind finding out that they thought he was a pampered asshole – that they thought he was in his position just because of his father – he took exception to their insulting his best friend, and two of his finest pilots. Hell, it wasn't a logical realization and he didn't try to make it that way; friendship rarely was.
Stepping out from behind the lockers, he still didn't gain their immediate attention. He was able to recognize the previously unknown voice as belonging to Lieutenant Simmons, who was beginning to speak again.
"Maybe she likes it both ways," he was saying with a shrug.
"But it still ain't fair that she gets more time in the cockpit than we do, hot piece of ass or not," Rocker argued. "Shit, I can't even remember the last time I had a patrol that was more than two hours long."
"That would be because your flying deteriorates the longer you're out there," Lee said simply, and had the intense pleasure of watching four men snap to attention with hysterical speed. If they thought he was an asshole, he could act the part. "You have no stamina. If I give you a patrol more than two hours long, I have no guarantee that you'll be able to land and I can't afford to lose a Viper," he continued. "And as for you Evans, I think you spend too much time in the gym to be bothered with flight. Not enough, though. How close are you now to the weight max?"
Lee watched as Evans blushed a bright red. Okay, maybe Lee was being an asshole – confirming their opinions of him – but he was having a good time with it. "I'm within regs," Evans muttered.
"Not my problem," Lee said with a shrug. "For the next thirty days it won't matter if you can fit into a Viper or not. Consider your flight status revoked pending a physical to ensure that you're flight ready. Too bad Salik doesn't have any openings until next month. You can work with the maintenance crews until then; that'll take off any weight you need to lose."
"Sir?" Evans squeaked.
Lee just smiled. "Hey Simmons," he said as he turned his attention to the shorter man. "How are the repairs going on your Viper? Got those landing struts straightened out yet?"
The pilot blushed as brightly as Evans had. "Mostly repaired," he admitted. "There's still some trouble with the hydraulics."
"Well, maybe you can help the mechanics get it straightened out," Lee said generously. "In fact, I'll go ahead and assign you to Tyrol's team for a couple of weeks. You don't have a problem with that, do you?"
"No, Sir," Simmons mumbled. Lee was enjoying this far too much, and he shouldn't be. He was a professional, and in command of a squadron. He couldn't allow personal feelings to rule his discipline. Yet he felt he needed to put a stop to this now, otherwise there would be no common military courtesy extended to those in authority, at least not by these pilots.
"So, what's this I hear about you spending an hour in the mess hall? I was pretty sure that breaks were down to half that when you're on shift." He wasn't letting the man off the hook; the pilot needed to know that his gossip would carry repercussions.
"I wasn't on shift," the young man defended.
"Oh, that's right. You were complaining about not having enough shifts. We can take care of that," Lee told him with a smile. "I could use someone to pull some extra time for me. This room is a disaster; how about cleaning it up for us. When your shifts with Tyrol's gang are over on the deck, feel free to pull another couple of hours in here. I want the head scrubbed, the lockers disinfected, and while you're at it you can mop some floors. Specialist Cally can show you where the buckets are kept."
Simmons didn't even argue, but rather lowered his eyes. The man had some sense after all.
Lee took a deep breath before continuing. "You guys are luckier than you think," he mumbled. "It happened to be me coming out of the head. If it had been Starbuck, I'd probably be calling the Life Station to have what was left of you shipped up there for bone fusion. As it is, I could bring each and every one of you up on conduct unbecoming. Do you really want to go there?"
A chorus of "no, Sir" was heard in the room before Lee continued.
"I really don't give a flying frak what you think of me," he added on a sigh, just so they would have no illusions about his motivations. "I'm sorry that my family is such an affront to your fine, masculine standards, but the bottom line is that I outrank you, Thrace outranks you, and the Commander sure as hell outranks you. I'll assign rosters as I see fit, and as long as they clear the Commander you'll just have to live with it. For the record, I assign both shifts and patrols based on skill and reliability, and none of you have proven a sufficient amount of either to warrant more than you've been allotted. If you have a problem with the rosters, you come to me and we'll talk. Sniping in the locker room won't accomplish anything except getting you into trouble.
"You see, I don't have to tolerate insubordination from pilots who have nothing better to do than gossip about their superiors. It's unprofessional and irritating, as well as being inaccurate as hell. If you're smart, you'll make sure Thrace doesn't hear any of it; I know her pretty well, and she'd beat the living shit out of you. Ironically she does have both skill and stamina in a Viper, and I can't afford to have my best pilot in the brig. So I'll say this once more, rosters are determined by rank, by skill, and by my judgement. If I can't trust you to be professional outside the cockpit, then don't expect me to put you in one. Are we clear?"
Another round of "yes, Sir" circulated the room.
"If I remember my scheduling," Lee said carefully, "you're overdue for the flight line, aren't you Hennings?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Then go. Now. Evans and Simmons, you're off duty so go get some sleep. You're going to need your rest to keep up with the extra duties I'll be assigning. You'll get a full schedule of my expectations first thing in the morning. Clear?"
Another two mumbled agreements, and the two Lieutenants exited through the main doors from the ready room on the heels of Lieutenant Simmons.
"Popcorn, isn't it?" Lee asked of the terrified looking Lieutenant who was left standing before him. He had deliberately left his one out, partially because he'd been the least offensive of the group, but also because he wanted to try to make a dent in the group and this man was his most likely opportunity to do it.
"Yes, Sir."
"How in hell did you get that for a callsign?" Lee asked. It was an old tactic, he knew… make it personal, and then once the man's defenses were lowered he'd be more likely to listen.
"It was… um… a joke," the young pilot stumbled. "When I was at the academy, I filled the rear thrusters on a Raptor with popcorn kernels before a test fire. When they ran the engine check, popcorn started flying everywhere. It was pretty cool, really, like a mini-blizzard."
Lee nodded as he worked to suppress a smile. It was creative; he'd give it that. "Destruction of service property?" Lee asked. "How long did you spend in the brig for that little stunt before they decided to label you with it for the rest of your career?"
"A week," the Lieutenant mumbled reluctantly.
Lee nodded his approval. "Sounds like what I would have given you," he admitted. Then Lee sighed and shook his head. "Have a seat, Lieutenant."
"Sir?"
"I'm not going to kick you while you're off your feet," Lee muttered. "You guys really must think I'm a shit."
Popcorn's eyes widened, but he did as he was told, taking a seat on the bench that ran the length of the flight lockers.
Lee sighed. "God, I hate this part of command," he said simply. "I don't expect you guys to like me. In fact, I really don't care if you do or not. Whatever your opinion, I do my job damned well, and it will take more than your complaints to make me question my capabilities." Lee didn't need to explain a damned thing to anyone, but he wanted to get something through to the group of pilots. Talking to this kid one-on-one, the kid who had looked the most terrified when he'd first spoken, seemed his best bet. "I've got a tough skin, so I can deal with it. But not everyone does. If you want the truth, what really pisses me off is that you guys have no respect for those who deserve it most. Forty percent of our flyers are female, and many of them have had to really struggle to get where they are. They aren't born with upper body strength, adequate stamina, or a military tradition to support them. They work for their rank every damned step of the way, and somehow we have a few that are a hell of a lot better than anyone has a right to be."
"Yes, Sir," Jacks said softly. Lee hoped he was really getting through.
"They have worked for their rank, and they deserve the respect they've earned. I get sick of the chauvinistic attitudes that some of you have, but I let it pass because everyone has a right to his own opinion. But when that opinion bleeds over into disrespect towards my pilots based on the decisions they make in their personal lives, I start getting pissed. Refusing to date any one of you doesn't make a woman less of a pilot; it just shows that they have some level of judgement. Dating the people you work with is never smart, and they know it. Whoever any one of them dates, or doesn't date, is really no business of yours. It's not appropriate for gossip, accusations, or even discussion. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Sir," Jacks said again.
"Now, you can go back to your buddies and tell them what an asshole I am if you want; I'm sure they'd agree wholeheartedly. But I'll tell you this up front. The next time I hear anything even resembling an insult regarding one of our female pilots, I'm turning it in to the XO. Not my father," Lee clarified. "I'm afraid he'd be too lenient. Colonel Tigh has no patience at all for insubordination, and he'll see to it that you lose your flight status if not your commission. He takes the military rank structure very seriously, and military tradition as well. You may not like those above you in the chain of command, and you don't necessarily have to respect us, but you had damned well better give us the military courtesy that we deserve, or you won't find yourself in the service much longer. No one deserves to be spoken about the way your little group has managed, and quite frankly you should be ashamed of yourselves." Lee looked up and met the abashed eyes of the young Lieutenant sitting before him. "Am I making myself clear?"
"Yes, Sir," Jacks said softly, and Lee noted that there was a measure of remorse in his voice. It was the most he had hoped for, and more than he had really expected.
"You're on duty in an hour," Lee said with a glance at his wrist. "Go get something to eat, and then report back. You'll have extra duties as well, so be sure you eat enough to carry you over. You won't have time for dinner."
Jacks nodded at that.
"Dismissed," Lee said softly.
Lieutenant Jacks stood and walked to the door before turning and offering a crisp salute. Lee stood to return it, more out of courtesy than actual regulation. This hadn't been a formal meeting, so the salute wasn't necessary from either of them, but Lee appreciated the sign that his words had at least made a dent in the attitude of one man. The rest of them were likely beyond redemption.
Sitting alone once the man had left, Lee took a deep breath and let it out slowly, hoping that he hadn't made matters worse by his intervention. His actions had been driven as much by irritation as by his job description, and that bothered him. Normally he wasn't one to allow his feelings to get in the way of doing his job. Still, he was only human, and he had buttons that could be pushed just as easily as anyone else's. Attacking his family was definitely pushing a button, whether they had intended for him to hear it or not.
Of course, the other concern he was facing was that most rumors had at least some basis in fact. Rumors had begun regarding his and Kara's relationship shortly after the war began. While the conclusion of the rumors was inaccurate – the two of them were not sleeping together – the basis had been that they spent a great deal of off-duty time together, were comfortable with one another, and tended to back one another when the need arose. The rumor had been false, but the justification for speculation had been true enough.
The same was true for their accusations questioning Kara's sexuality. No, she didn't date. No, she wasn't the most feminine of women. And yes, she did spend a lot of time around Valerii, who was just as reticent about dating as Kara was. Again, the basis was there, but the conclusion was off. Valerii had a longstanding relationship with one of the deck crew that was not common knowledge. They hadn't made it public because the views on fraternization were still varied, and Lee hadn't made an issue of it because it didn't affect their work. He supposed it would seem odd that Sharon never dated if one didn't know that she was already romantically involved with someone.
Kara didn't date for a variety of reasons, but Lee thought that probably the most insistent was that she was still not ready. The pilots had it right when they'd mentioned her engagement to his brother, but Zak's death and her involvement in it were privileged information. With no more information than they had, any or all of the rumors could have seemed plausible. And yet not a single damned one of them held a shred of truth.
Lee supposed that the same was likely true about his father and Kara. They had probably eaten dinner together in the mess hall, and so the rumor mill had started. It was damned depressing that a single isolated event could set off such a vicious rumor, but it wasn't uncommon. The question Lee had was why neither his father nor Kara had mentioned the dinner to him. And on a selfish note, why hadn't he been invited?
Yes, that was selfish. The two of them were certainly allowed to spend time together without him, and they didn't need to ask his permission. For a responsible adult, Lee often wondered why he sometimes felt a little jealous of how comfortable Kara was around his dad. It wasn't that she was inappropriate – not at all – but Lee was still carrying the baggage from the way he'd treated the eldest Adama for more than two years.
He had long been forgiven by his father, but it was very hard for him to forgive himself. He had misjudged a situation, made the most difficult time in his parents' life even worse, and to top it off when he'd found out that someone else had done exactly what he'd accused his father of – then tried, convicted and sentenced him for – he had forgiven her without a second thought. The double standard bothered him, and it was that guilt which tended to keep him just a little bit apart from his father.
Kara had no such barrier, although in theory she shouldn't be any more comfortable with his dad than Lee was. But his father had never placed blame, and Kara had punished herself far more than either of them ever could have. Hell, just losing Zak had been the ultimate sentence. So if Lee was jealous of the comfort that his dad had provided her in those weeks following the funeral, he had only himself to blame. He had been the one to alienate his father. He had been the one to accuse, and attack, and leave. He had been the one who had put an end to their relationship as effectively as if he'd died himself. So why in hell did he feel so bad when his father treated Kara like what she was – part of the family.
Childish, Lee thought. Very childish. For all he knew, he'd been on duty whenever the alleged dinner occurred. And so what if he hadn't been? They didn't need his permission to sit and talk… and laugh. When was the last time Lee had heard his father laugh? The thought was sobering. Of all the petty accusations that he pilots had made, it had been this one which had hurt; the simple fact that life was going on around him, and he just couldn't get himself back into the flow. He should have been the one looking out for his dad, and instead it was falling to Kara because Lee couldn't manage to get his head on straight.
But Lee's withdrawl from life in general wasn't for lack of effort. He'd even gone on a date a few evenings before, although he'd figured out within about the first half-hour that it had been a mistake. He hadn't been ready to deal with a woman. Some days he wasn't ready to deal with himself. The lovely medical technician had been sweet, attentive, and had hung on his every word. It had bored the hell out of him. She hadn't had a single differing opinion, which had made him question whether she was being honest with him. She'd been just a little grabby as well, which hadn't done much for him. Maybe it was the pilot in him, but he had always liked being in control when it came to the physical side of a relationship. The evening had been a surprise in many ways; he had thought he was ready to get back into the dating game. He had been wrong. He was going to have to get a lot more comfortable with himself before he started trying to get close to someone else.
But that was all off the subject, which was the rumor mill being in full force about something that was clearly innocent. While rumors between him and Kara seemed inevitable and ridiculous, he wasn't entirely sure that his father would feel the same way about Kara being slandered with his name. After all, as the Commander he required the respect of his subordinates, and it was hard to respect someone who was fodder for gossip. Lee had to wonder just exactly what had happened, what had been misinterpreted, and whether or not Kara and his dad were even aware that there was a potential problem brewing.
The easy solution was to ask his father, but given their differences in the past he was half-afraid that his father would consider it a personal attack rather than the legitimate concern which Lee felt it was. They were finally on speaking terms, and that had been slow in coming. Lee didn't want to mess it up by accusing the man of something illicit with one of his pilots. The thought was ludicrous, anyway. His dad was twice Kara's age, and frankly even Lee had a hard time keeping up with her. But that was all just an excuse to put off trying to straighten out the situation.
A far easier approach would be to just ask Kara. She was well aware of the rumors that were circulating about the two of them – everything from Kara's being pregnant to Lee giving her flight time in exchange for sex – so she wouldn't likely be surprised that an innocent experience had set off the scuttlebutt again. They had actually laughed about the accusations on more than one occasion, as they were far closer to being brother and sister than to being lovers. Hell, neither one of them even had any interest in a romantic relationship, with one another or otherwise. Lee was too busy being CAG, and Kara was too busy flying. They'd had that discussion more than once as well.
So he'd ask Kara… and it was as simple as that. He had another two hours on shift, and then he'd need to get the rosters set up for next week – that meant two more hours in his office – and then he'd head up to quarters to talk to her. She was off today, and if he knew her like he thought he did she would be in the gym until just about that time, anyway. She had a body that was impressive, true, but Lee knew how hard she worked on it. She ran daily, often taking him along as a running buddy so that she had someone to talk to. She'd told him that if she didn't yammer the whole time, she ran too fast and the workout wasn't as effective. Lee thought that sounded like a load of crap, but he couldn't argue with her results. If it managed to keep him in shape as well, then that was just a bonus. After running, she usually spent an hour or so in the gym, working with weights or whatever else she could find. She was the only woman he knew who could do more pull-ups than he could, and it was frankly embarrassing. Then again, she worked at it more than he did; she always had.
In all honesty, that had been one of the reasons that he'd been fairly impressed when Zak had started dating her. She was one of the few women who had been able to keep up with the two of them without losing ground. Zak had said she was incredible, and Lee had given his approval by not arguing. Or rather, by arguing, he thought with a smile. He and Zak and Kara could get into some knock-down, drag-out fights when they had worked at it. Lords, he missed that. Kara might argue with him now, but she didn't resort to hitting. Usually. Zak had never had any such qualms. In all honesty, as childish as it was, there was nothing like a good physical attack to clear the mind and restore the senses. Lords, he was really getting down to basics when he started thinking this way.
So it was settled, at least so far as Lee was concerned. He'd get his work done, and then he'd check in quarters for Kara. If she wasn't there, he'd check the gym. Either way, he'd get her alone and let her know just what rumors were flying so that she would at least have a heads-up and be less likely to overhear a conversation such as he had and kill somebody as a result. Kara didn't often hit him, but the same could not be said of her treatment of others. Keeping her out of hack had become a full time job.
Lee passed by his locker and opened it up to grab a flight suit. He had a few things to check on deck, and then he'd change back into the day uniform and tackle his paperwork. And maybe – just maybe – he might find a way to squeeze himself in on the flight roster. He hadn't been in the air in over a month, and it was driving him nuts. Simulators kept his skills in line, but it just wasn't the same. It was worth it if it meant keeping Kara from killing anyone, but it still wasn't something he enjoyed. Maybe a shuttle flight, he thought. Something. Anything. He'd figure it out.