"Lords, you didn't come here to hear me complain about food shortages that you didn't even know existed." Jenna flashed a smile. "Enough about me. How are you doing?"

"You know me. I hear nothin' but the rain." Kara's grin mirrored Jenna's.

"Yeah, I heard about how you brought in the cat. I wonder if Captain Adama realizes CAG is your own personal code for cat?" she mused.

Kara pulled out her last cigar and twirled it between her fingers. "If he didn't then, he does now."

"No recent vacations to the brig?"

"Too busy kickin' Cylon ass for that. Besides, I've got a whole squadron of nuggets to train – it wouldn't do for the squadron trainer to end up on the wrong side of bars."

"So they've been letting you slide," Jenna suggested.

"That and I've been behaving myself." She laughed at Jenna's gasp of mock surprise. "It's possible, unlikely but possible. Plus, I scored points for bringin' in that Cylon bird."

"I heard about that too. You're still limping. Shouldn't you have crutches or something?"

Kara shrugged. "I just kept wantin' to slam the things into the nuggets' heads."

"Knock some sense into 'em? Literally?" Jenna chuckled. Her eyes left her friend as a group of crewmembers entered the galley. "A cook's work is never done," she quipped. She had tried to keep her tone light but knew she failed when concern clouded Kara's eyes again. "I'm fine. Go on now before I put you to work." She rose from the table, rolled her shoulders, and shooed Kara away with her hands. "Be sure to get something to eat before you go. You need to keep your strength up."

"Yeah," Kara agreed absently "you should try to eat something yourself."

Jenna smiled sadly but nodded before she hurried back to her simmering pot. Kara watched her for a few minutes before she eased herself to her feet, straightening her leg with some difficulty. With a half-formed plan in mind she left the galley and headed toward the CAG's office, her limp much more noticeable and her thoughts heavy.

Apollo was not in his office and Kara was wiping beads of perspiration from her brow by the time she neared the flight deck. Her knee was kicking her ass and it wasn't even anywhere near it. She almost chuckled at the incongruity of the thought except laughter would have been an expenditure of energy and she needed all of hers just to make it all the way to the flight deck.

Damn it! She would have to go to the doc and get the frackin' pain meds he had been trying to ply her with ever since she first hobbled out of his care. Wouldn't that just make his frackin' day – a vulnerable Starbuck.

"Lee!"

He lifted his head from the conference he had been having with Chief Tyrol concerning the erosion on certain of the Vipers' landing gear. In truth, the Chief had discovered the problem and had already worked out a solution, he was merely waiting for the okay to implement it. He nodded his agreement with the Chief's decision and left him to work out the details.

"Have you taken a good look at the cooks recently?"

"What?" He gave Kara a once over. She looked worse for wear. Actually, she looked very bad considering the doctor's recommendation concerning her duty status.

"You know, the people who prepare our meals?" Kara had been having difficulty controlling her anger ever since she had spoken with Jenna and her rising pain level was not making things any easier. She would have liked to punch someone, anyone besides Jenna, and she thought she still might follow through with the inclination. But in the mean time she was rather pleased with the fact that she was not yet being brought up on assault charges. And, hey, she was still standing so that could be considered a plus too.

"Not really."

"You should." The pain spiking through her leg was making concentration difficult at best.

"Okay," he acquiesced. "Aren't you on patrol?"

She wondered fleetingly if Lee would actually throw her in the brig if he became her victim. "You drew up the flight rotations. I'm grounded until Life Station clears me. It seems I keep ending up there too often recently for the doc's liking."

He nodded vaguely and she turned on the heel of her good leg. "Well, gotta go bawl out some nuggets," she said over her shoulder. "Don't forget about the cooks." She hobbled off the flight deck and headed straight to Life Station. The nuggets could damn well sit tight and wait for her to show up.

It was well past mid shift that Lee remembered Kara's odd request. He had no idea what she thought he would see in the galley but he followed the corridors until he found himself there. Several tables were occupied with crewmembers who greeted him as he made his way toward the rear of the room. His confusion evaporated when he came face to face with a woman he vaguely remembered as an acquaintance of Kara's.

"Captain Adama?" She looked questioningly at him. An oddly guilty look flicked across her eyes and she looked away quickly.

"Lieutenant…?"

"Harris, sir," she supplied. She pushed down the sleeves of her baggy uniform over too-thin arms. "May I help you, sir?"

By the time Lee exited the galley he thought he might just be ill enough to skip his rations for the rest of the week. Somehow in all their careful planning and plotting they had driven five of their own to the brink of starvation. What was just as bad, he decided, was the galley crew's apparent complete acceptance of their lot.

He was ashamed of the blind eye he had turned to those people and he wondered if anyone but Kara had taken the time to notice them. He doubted it. Kara had always been quick to befriend the galley crew. It had started at the academy as a means to procure a few extra late-night snacks and he guessed she had continued out of habit.

Lieutenant Harris intrigued him. What was an officer doing in the galley as second cook in the first place? He thought he remembered Jenna's name from academy days. Was there truly a need for academy-trained cooks? Would an officer not be better suited to working in the CIC?

Too many questions warred against his thoughts. He would have to remember to ask Starbuck for an explanation. At present he needed to speak to the Commander. They could not allow the galley crew to continue their enforced rationing when it put their health at such great risk. He only hoped his warning would not come too late.

to be continued...