AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! One little comment I forgot earlier – I can't think of any way to do anything with Leoben's prophecy about finding Kobol without spoiling what's going to happen on the show, so I've just decided to leave that alone. There are people who get paid to write this stuff that can do a lot better of a job than I can.
It seemed as though Laura Roslin was spending almost as much time on the Galactica as she did on her own ship. After a status briefing on the fleet from various members of the president and the commander's staffs, she turned to Adama, her expression thoughtful.
"Have you been keeping track of the days?" she asked him. A small smile graced his face.
"With all due respect, Madam President, I haven't really had much time to look at the calendar lately." She just nodded.
"I figured as much…Chloia is coming up." He sighed. It was an old festival, originating on Canceron, celebrating the first sprouts of grain for the year and honoring the eighth Lord of Kobol, Demeter.
"We don't have a crop this year," Adama told her. "In fact, you just heard the same thing I did; we're starting to run low on supplies."
"I know that Commander. But since we've already put a plan in place to find a planet where we can replenish our stores, I thought it might be appropriate to celebrate Chloia once food has been found." He didn't answer. "There isn't much to revel in these days, Commander. We have to take the opportunities when they present themselves."
Adama considered that, and finally nodded. "We'll hold Chloia among the fleet once our supplies have been restocked." Roslin smiled.
"Good."
Kara was on the hangar deck, looking at a console by the Cylon Raider, trying to analyze the fighter's systems. She'd been starting at the screen for the past two hours and hadn't gotten anywhere. A wrench went skittering across the deck as her frustration peaked.
"How's it going?"
She turned to see Lieutenant Sharon Valerii approaching, a small smile on her face. "About as good as that looked," she told her friend, pointing to the hand tool.
"What's the problem?"
"This thing's stupid FTL drive. I thought I'd isolated the system, but I guess not." Sharon had a faraway look in her eyes as she studied the Raider, an open hand trailing across towards the helmet-shaped front end.
"You're just trying to power it up?"
"Yeah, why? You got any suggestions?" Kara asked.
She finally snapped out of it. "I don't know. I've got a patrol in ten, but I can look at it later if you want."
Kara shrugged. "I'll figure it out…eventually." Sharon smiled and headed over to the Raptor, where Crashdown was waiting for her.
Across the deck, Kara noticed Lee talking with a couple of other pilots, and looked away on a reflex. It had been two days since their…encounter in the training room, and they hadn't been alone together since. Which was fine; they could still be totally professional on deck, and she didn't feel like making an awkward attempt at pretending what had happened, hadn't. Actually, it almost felt like she was just waiting for it to happen again, like they were opposing magnets that had been put a little too close together and were now pulling each other in.
Tyrol stepped into her field of view, glaring as he held up the tool that she'd earlier thrown. "Friend of yours?" he asked. Kara took the wrench back.
"Sorry."
"Mmm. At least you were aiming low this time."
She smiled sweetly. "See? I do have a pretty good learning curve."
Once his shift ended, Lee headed up towards the CIC to check in with his father. Adama briefed him on the situation they were running into with supplies.
"We're running scans of the systems currently within one jump's distance," he informed his son. "If we don't find anything useful, we'll start sending fighters on double-jump missions to do more scanning." Lee sighed.
"I'm not going to lie to you, Sir. I'm already pushing my pilots to the limit just to get the CAP patrols done. We've only got four pilots on standby on the deck each shift. We start putting those pilots out on supply patrols, and we'll wind up in a bad spot if the Cylons decide to come knocking."
Adama nodded. "Well then let's hope our initial scans prove fruitful."
"Yes, Sir."
"One other thing: once we have restocked the freighter ships, the President would like the fleet to celebrate Chloia. She thinks it would improve morale, and I'd have to agree with her there."
"Me, too."
"Pass the word along to your pilots and have the CPOs tell their crews, all right? Maybe that will be some extra motivation."
"Yes, Sir."
By the end of the week, a planet had been found and the fleet was moving closer to it to enable easier flight patrols of both the civilian ships and the freighters that were being loaded up. Everyone was looking forward to Chloia; all the ships were planning feasts for the occasion, including Galactica.
Kara had an extra reason to celebrate – she was finally cleared for flight again. Of course, her good mood dissolved when she saw the flight roster.
"You put me on a Raptor patrol?" she demanded of Lee as she came into his office.
"Most people knock, Lieutenant," he told her. She glared, but went back into the hall and knocked on his door. It was one of the most basic, if unwritten, rules of conduct on the ship. "Yeah?"
"Why the frak did you put me on a Raptor patrol?" Kara asked as she came back inside.
"I told you I'd put you on the schedule as soon as you were clear."
"Yeah, I know, and maybe you haven't noticed, Lee, but I'm a Viper pilot."
"The flight rosters were already made up for this week, Lieutenant, and I wasn't going to start messing around with them now. Right now, we need Raptors planet-side to help with the freighter loading. I assumed you'd prefer it to no flight at all, but I can keep you grounded for the rest of the week if that's what you want." Kara glared, but didn't say a word. "I'll put you in the Viper rotation next week," Lee promised her. "Dismissed."
Some of the science minds that were among Galactica's fleet decided to use Chloia as an occasion to work extra hard at pushing their ideas on the survivors' responsibilities to reproduce. Demeter wasn't just the Lord of the fertility of the land, it appeared. Most officials brushed them aside, but as talk about the issue spread through the ships like wildfire, the issue of military fraternization policies was once again brought up on Galactica. And everyone was talking.
"Depending upon who you listen to," one of the crew five Specialists, Jared Camps, told two fellow crewmen as they all worked together on a Viper, "The male to female ratio in the fleet is somewhere between three-to-one and five-to-one." One of the other guys, Mike Kimmett, whistled.
"I don't particularly care for those kinds of odds," he stated.
"Like you had a chance anyway," the third crewman, Greg Sleegan, told him with a laugh. Kimmett mock-punched his friend.
"Jeez, how many of you guys does it take to fix one coolant line?" Cally asked as she stood below them. Deciding to give her a hard time, Camps did a quick head count.
"Apparently three," he called down to her. "Why? Whatcha need?"
"I'm supposed to be replacing one of the gyros on that bird over there." She pointed.
"You got this?" Kimmett asked Sleegan. He nodded, so Kimmett and Camps climbed down. The threesome got to work on the gyro, but it wasn't long before the guys' earlier topic was revisited.
"Do you believe the rumors?" Kimmett asked Cally once they brought her up to speed.
"What? That every woman between twenty and thirty five is supposed to have some magic number of kids in order to keep humanity going?" He nodded. "You think they'd exempt people in the military? I mean, on top of the number of pilots and deckhands that would suddenly come off active duty for almost a year, what would they do with that many kids running around a Battlestar?"
"I think that's why the civilian brainiacs are the ones who came up this plan," Camps said. "They don't think in terms of our reality."
"As if it wouldn't be complicated enough just trying to 'color inside the lines' with the fraternization regulations," Kimmett reminded them. "There's no way they could implement those stupid repro policies here." Camps just grinned.
"I don't think those fraternization regs are gonna last another month," he told his friend. "Somebody high enough up the ladder is gonna want to get in the flight suit of somebody else on another rung, and those rules will be out the airlock."
"My bet's on the CAG," Kimmett revealed. "Maybe he'll loosen up a little if he gets some."
Cally rolled her eyes. "How do you ever get any work done? You gossip like grade school girls!"
Two days later, the freighter ships rejoined the fleet, filled to the brim with enough foodstuffs to keep them going for at least another month. Chloia feasts were supposed to be held on every ship that evening. On Galactica, attendance was 'strongly requested' of everyone not on shift, and they were all supposed to be in dress uniforms.
"It's nice to put these on for something other than a funeral," Sharon quietly commented as she and Kara got ready in their bunkroom.
"Yeah." Kara had to pull her belt another notch tighter than she'd done at the memorial services a month earlier; that was three extra notches total since the Cylon attack. Apparently the stress and her dislike of the mess hall food were having an effect. She studied her reflection in her locker mirror. Other than a permanent look of fatigue and the fact that her hair was getting past ear-length, she didn't think she looked too different than she had a few months ago. Same old Starbuck…yeah, right.
"You set?" Sharon asked.
"Yeah, but we've got to make a quick stop first."
"We do?"
Kara knocked on the hatch that was in front of her, and waited for the reply she would undoubtedly hear from the other side. She pushed the door open, and grinned when she saw Lee inside. His uniform jacket was only halfway buttoned, and he was standing over some last minute files on his desk.
"How did I know I would still find you here?" she asked.
"W-what are you doing here?"
"You're the only guy I know that has to be persuaded away from paperwork." She stepped into the room, leaving Sharon in the doorway, and reached to button his jacket.
"Kara," Lee said, his tone reprimanding, once his brain had a chance to process what she was doing. "I can fasten my own shirt."
"We're going to be late if you don't hurry up…Sir," she belatedly added, giving him a little grin. "And I hear the food's supposed to actually be fit for human consumption tonight." He straightened the jacket, pinning his Viper wings in the correct position.
"Then lead the way, Lieutenant," he told her.
"There have been many difficult days, and there will undoubtedly be more to come," Adama told the enlisted personnel and officers gathered in the mess hall. "But for our lives, our health, our futures, we must give the Lords thanks. We will make it through the days ahead, together. Survival is our only option. So say we all."
"So say we all," everyone else replied, and then they all dug in. Lee had gotten suckered into sitting with Adama, Tigh, and a couple other VIP officers, and Kara gave him a smile of sympathy he caught her eye. Things weren't so uncomfortable between them anymore, as long as they didn't think about the fact that things weren't uncomfortable between them. Putting the kiss behind them seemed to be working.
"So are you in?" Kara turned back to her own table at the sound of Hotdog's voice.
"Huh?" she asked. Her other tablemates – Sharon, Crashdown, Hotdog, and another pilot, call sign Nightsky – all laughed.
"Are you sitting somewhere else in spirit tonight?" Crashdown inquired. She shot him a glare.
"What was the question?"
"We were going to take some food down to the guys that are on shift, once we're finished," Nightsky replied. "You want to help?"
"Yeah, sure. Who got stuck with the short straws?"
"Um…Bandit and Blindman are doing CAP," Sharon told her. "Jammer and Lonestar have the Raptor."
"Hyper, Deadbolt, Greenback, and Ghost are on standby," Hotdog finished. Kara laughed.
"Your Bravo Squadron buddies must have really pissed Lee off last week," she told him. Hyper was the only pilot on shift that was from her squad.
Crashdown nodded. "I think Blindman lived up to his name and blew a few landings. Deadbolt and Greenback apparently got their hands on some ambrosia and wound up enjoying it a little too much."
"Was there any left?" Kara asked. "Or did Tigh snatch it up?"
"I heard the CAG confiscated it," Sharon told her. "Not sure what happened after that."
Kara shrugged. "That might be worth some investigation."
After the dinner, the pilots got together a bunch of plates and took them to their very appreciative friends on deck. They had to make the four guys on standby promise to leave some stuff for the other four that were out on patrol, but spirits were a lot brighter in the hangar when Kara left than when she'd come in.
Kara stopped by Lee's office on her way back to the bunkroom. Just as she'd suspected, he was already hunched over paperwork. "Do you know what the words 'off-duty' mean?" she asked as she stepped through the hatch and closed it behind her.
"Once upon a time, I think I did." That made her smile. "Oh, and thanks for bursting my bubble."
Kara looked up, surprised. "What?"
"I told those blockheads down on deck they weren't going to see food until breakfast."
She laughed. "Sorry! You have to let me in on these master plans of yours."
"Mmm. I'll keep that in mind for the future."
"So, I hear those 'blockheads down on deck' managed to find some ambrosia?" Lee gave her a wry smile.
"There're about two mouthfuls left. The bottle's under my bed. I was wondering whether you or the XO would come looking for it first." Kara headed into his room to find the remnants of liquor. When she returned, she was also holding his memento box, which he'd forgotten about at some point and left open.
"What's this?" she asked as she put the box down on his desk.
"Just…what's left of my life on Caprica." Kara held out the bottle, offering him one of the two swallows that were inside. Lee shook his head, so she downed the whole thing.
"Your mom looked a lot different when you were young," she said. "Then again…I suppose anyone would look different when they're not at their child's funeral." Lee slowly nodded. "What else do you have in there?" He hesitated for a moment, and she realized how forward that had been. Lee had always been a pretty introverted person. "You don't have to show me. I'll put it back if you want."
"No, I just…" With a sigh, he pulled out Zak's dog tags and handed them to her. "I was going to give these to you at some point, just…the timing was never right."
Kara sat on the edge of his desk, carefully considering the objects in her hand. After a long moment, she handed them back. "I have pictures, memories…a lot of memories. I don't need…I don't need these to remember him by. And I'm never going to forget Zak, but I need to stop looking back. You can keep them."
"You're sure?"
"Yeah."
Lee put the tags back in the box. "Maybe I'll give them to my dad."
"He'd probably like that."
"Stop looking back, huh?"
"Yeah. I mean…out here, we've barely got time to breathe – "
"Ain't that the truth."
"So spending time looking in the rearview mirror is a luxury we can't afford. We've just gotta try to stay alive long enough to learn from our mistakes." There was a long pause.
"You asked me a question a while ago, and I thought you were nuts."
Kara laughed. "Right, because normally, I'm the poster child for sanity." Lee smiled.
"You asked if believed in destiny."
"Yeah, and you said no."
"Well, I'd like to amend my answer…because I don't know if we would have wound up here on our own."
"Wound up where?" Without a moment's hesitation, he leaned forward and kissed her. And she didn't have time to think about rules and regs or Zak or anything else, because Lee was right there kissing her like she hadn't been kissed in a very long time, driving away the fear, and the hurt, and anything she was feeling other than the warmth that comes from knowing there's someone in your life that cares about you possibly more than you care about yourself.
"Here," he whispered as they finally broke away, their foreheads resting on each other's. "Tell me that that wasn't a mistake."
"It wasn't," she breathed, "But we can't do this."
"I know…but right now, I don't care."
"Besides all our other…issues, you're my CO."
"Not tonight. Tonight, I'm just Lee and you're just Kara. Tonight, we're just us."
"Us…Is this a simple stress reliever, or something more?"
"There's never been anything simple about us, Kara." There was no arguing with that logic, but still…
"We do this now, and what happens in the morning?" she asked. Lee kissed her again.
"In the morning, we'll talk it out…or you can blame it on the ambrosia."
TBC...