2/24/05
EXTREMITIES
Chap. 3
The Arrow of Apollo sat on the desk, looking old, tarnished, and slightly battered. Kind of like how I feel, Tigh thought sourly, staring at the artifact and wondering what was so special about it. What made it worth dying for? Although the Cylons had still not yet shown up, he was still convinced they would. They were probably just letting the Colonials second-guess themselves, let them relax, then they'd strike. The Cylons had already shown themselves quite capable of playing mind games. He was certain that this was just another one.
Taking another sip from his glass of Ambrosia, the colonel reached out and picked up the Arrow with his free hand. It was surprisingly heavy for something so flimsy-looking and he wondered briefly if it was made of gold. Not that it really mattered, he realized, gold had no more value now, than the cubits jingling in his pocket. Nothing really matters anymore, he thought despondently, tossing the Arrow back onto his desk and refilling his glass.
His pessimistic thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the hatch door opening and he turned to see Ellen enter the state room. She was wearing a tight, low-cut, bright pink dress and looking slightly unsteady on her feet. Evidently he wasn't the only one who'd started drinking early.
"Oh, you're here," she said, with a radiant smile. "I thought you'd still be up in CIC for another couple of hours."
"Yeah, I was. Where were you?"
"Oh, nowhere," she said, with a dismissive wave of one hand. "You know, just wandering around, trying to learn my way around this tub."
"Mmmhmm," he growled.
"So, don't they need you up in CIC?"
"Not really, Apollo and Starbuck have everything well under control. Who needs a pathetic old man getting in the way? Why? Are you trying to get rid of me, too? Are you expecting someone?"
Ignoring his questions, she said, "I thought they were both in the brig."
"Had to let them out. There's probably a Cylon Basestar heading our way. I'm going to need every pilot I've got."
"Oh, and what are you going to do?"
"Well, Apollo's already come up with a plan. He's in charge of the execution of it."
"I see," Ellen said. "So, you're just going to sit back and let Lee and this Starbuck take over your ship? This is your moment, Saul, your turn to shine, to step out from Bill's shadow. You can't just sit there and let Bill's son try to steal your glory... Now, I suggest you get your butt back up there and take charge. After all, who's in command around here?"
"You know something? You're right... This is my moment and I'll be damned if I'm going to let either of them take it away from me," Tigh said, draining his glass in one gulp.
Standing and straightening his uniform, he gave his wife a deep kiss and left the cabin to return to CIC. The Arrow of Apollo remained behind, forgotten on the desk.
Sick bay was actually fairly quiet for a change as Kara entered and glanced around, looking for the commander's bed. They had received word about a half hour ago that the surgery was complete. The two bullets had been successfully removed, but the patient was still comatose and in serious condition.
Noting a lot of equipment at the far end of the large room, she headed in that direction, but as she drew closer, she saw that Lee was already there, standing at his father's bedside. It occurred to her that the captain would probably want to be alone at the moment, so she decided not to approach. And considering their earlier argument, she was in no hurry to deal with him either. She could wait until Lee had gone, to go and see the Old Man.
Turning around, she headed back the way she had come, to go in search of Doc Connelly. Her wrist was still quite tender and somewhat swollen from when she had fallen through the floor, fighting with the blonde Cylon back on Caprica. It would probably be a good idea to have the wrist X-rayed while she actually had a few minutes to spare.
After a quick examination, it was determined that she did not have a concussion. The X-rays showed no broken bones, but the doctor determined the wrist was sprained. He wrapped it in an elastic cloth bandage and cleared her for duty, with an admonishment to 'take it easy.'
"Yeah, sure, Doc, just make sure you pass those instructions on to the Cylons too," Kara said, with a grin.
As she was leaving the examination area, she noticed two security officers standing over by a semi-private area, with five-foot tall partitions. Realizing that this must be where they were keeping Helo and Sharon, she headed over. The guard, who stepped up to intercept her, looked as if he was going to deny her access to the two prisoners, but evidently changed his mind. He stepped aside and allowed her to step into the cubicle.
Helo was asleep. It occurred to her that he had probably gotten precious little of that these past few weeks. Metal bars had been attached to the sides of his bed and one of his wrists was handcuffed to one of the bars. The same bars had been attached to Sharon's bed, but she was actually tied to the bed with thick, black nylon straps. She was awake and watching Kara warily.
Kara stepped up to the bed and rested her hands on the bars. "This seems a bit like overkill," she said. Her tone was cool, but not exactly rude.
Sharon gave a slight shrug within her bonds. "They told me what happened to the commander. I guess I can understand that they're not taking any chances, especially since I'm in the same room with him. How is he, by the way?"
"He's out of surgery... I guess we just wait and see, now. But he'll be okay. He's a fighter," she said, with more confidence than she felt.
"We both know you didn't come down here to check on me. So, what can I do for you, Starbuck?"
"Where are the Cylons? They followed us. They know where we are. Why isn't there a Basestar on top of us already? It's been almost 12 hours. What are they up to?"
"I don't know."
"You're one of them, aren't you? How do they think?"
"No, I'm not one of them, not anymore, anyway." She glanced down towards her stomach as she said this. Doc Connelly had confirmed that she was, indeed, pregnant. "I swear to you, Starbuck, I don't know what they're doing. It's like I've been cut off... I don't know how to explain it..."
Realizing that Starbuck still wanted some kind of an answer, she continued, "Maybe they're trying to give us a false sense of security or maybe they're just trying to keep us tense and on-edge, you know, throw us off balan-."
"Stop saying 'us'," Kara interrupted coldly. "Maybe you're not one of them anymore, but you're definitely not one of us."
With a heavy sigh, Lee leaned forward, resting his elbows on the small table in the emptied out store room, that was currently being used as an interrogation room, and stared at the Cylon sitting across from him. He had been trying to get Sharon to speak to him for the past hour and was getting nowhere. He had tried yelling at her, pleading with her, threatening her, and she had not even raised her head to look at him once. She just sat staring down at her handcuffed wrists, which were resting in her lap.
He had drawn the line at physically abusing her. For some reason, he would not strike her or allow the Marine, who was guarding his back, to strike her either. Perhaps it was because he had first known her as a friend, as a pilot under his command, that he wouldn't cross that line. More likely, he realized with discomfort, it was because he knew that if he did strike her, he might not be able to stop. So, keeping his seething rage tightly reigned in, he had kept his interrogation strictly verbal.
Unfortunately this approach was not working. He strongly suspected that a physical approach wouldn't have been any more effective anyway. It was obvious that she was beyond caring what happened to her. He didn't know her well enough to try anything psychological. He knew that she had been involved with Chief Tyrol, but since he was currently MIA, that didn't help much. Lee didn't know if there was any other crewmember that she was close to... Or did he?
With sudden inspiration, he stood and addressed the Marine. "Keep her here. I'll be back in a few minutes."
It was, in fact, 20 minutes before he returned to the store room. He moved around the table, to stand in front of the prisoner. It was obvious that she hadn't moved a muscle since he had left.
"There's someone here to see you, Sharon," he said quietly. She did not lift her head.
"Sharon... what's going on?" a very young voice asked.
For the first time since she had shot the commander, she seemed to be aware of her surroundings. Slowly she lifted her head. Boxey stood beside Capt. Apollo, looking terribly young, frightened, and confused.
"Everyone's saying you shot the commander," the boy said. "Why would you do that? Tell them it wasn't you."
The boy started to move closer to her, but Apollo put his hands on the boy's narrow shoulders and held him back. "No, stay next to me," the captain ordered gently.
This seemed to have a profound affect on her. She flinched visibly, as if Apollo had struck her. A single tear slid slowly down her cheek.
"Sharon, please, tell them it wasn't you. It was a mistake, an accident. It had to be. Tell them!" Boxey pleaded. Tears were starting down his cheeks as well.
"Why did you bring him here?" Sharon whispered to Apollo. They were the first words she had spoken in almost two days.
"Answer his question," Lee said flatly. "Why did you shoot my father?"
"I don't know," she whispered, hunching over her lap and trying to make herself as small as possible.
"That's not an answer."
"Get him out of here. Please, I'll tell you anything, just get him out of here."
Glancing down at the boy, who was crying openly now, Lee felt a sharp pang of guilt. He had accomplished his goal. He had broken through her defensive shell. The boy didn't need to see anymore. It had been Lee's intention to punish the woman, not the child.
Turning to a second Marine, who had accompanied he and the boy into the room, Lee said, "Take him back to his quarters."
"No!" Boxey cried out, as the Marine stepped up and grasped his upper arm. "Capt. Apollo, promise me you won't hurt her! Promise me!"
Lee resolutely turned his back as the boy was led out of the room. "Okay, the boy's gone," he said to Sharon. "Now talk."
"I don't know what you want me to say," she said, in a small voice. "I don't really even remember doing it. For weeks now, I've been feeling really weird. Sometimes I find myself doing things and I don't know why. I suddenly find myself in strange places and I don't know how I got there. There are these long gaps of time where I don't remember anything I did."
She was still looking down at her lap and she was speaking in such a soft voice that Lee had to move close to hear what she was saying. She seemed so broken and lost that, against his better judgment, he crouched down in front of her so that he could see her tear-streaked face.
"While Racetrack and I were on the Cylon Basestar, I saw myself...," she continued, in the same soft, monotone. "It was strange. It was like returning to a home you've always known in your mind, but you've never actually set foot in..."
"Why did you shoot my father?" Lee asked softly.
"I don't know," she repeated. "When I walked into CIC, after the mission, I felt fine. I felt normal. I didn't feel any anger towards him or anything. I stepped up to shake his hand and found there was a gun in mine. I don't remember drawing it. It was just there. I pulled the trigger. I don't know why. I just did. It was like a dream. It was like someone else was in control. I was just there for the ride..."
Slowly she raised her eyes to look at him. Their eyes met and she was abruptly struck by just how blue his eyes were. Funny, she'd never really noticed their color before. From her slightly higher position, seated in the chair, she could just see over his shoulder and she noticed for the first time that he had a sidearm tucked in the waistband of his pants, at the small of his back.
Moving so quickly and suddenly, that the captain had no time to react, Sharon jerked her arms apart, shattering the flimsy metal handcuffs. At the same time, she lunged forward, reaching around to grab the gun before he could, and using her forward momentum, she bore him to the floor, pinning him down in a surprisingly strong grip. As the Marine moved sluggishly toward her, she jammed the gun up under Apollo's jaw. Instantly the Marine checked his movement and backed off.
Turning her attention back to the man pinned beneath her, she once again looked into those blue, blue eyes. He did not struggle to push her away. He did not look away from her, but returned her stare with a fierce intensity. There was no fear in those eyes, only anger. Slowly, she took the gun from his jaw and pressed it against her own temple.
"Do it," Lee whispered through tightly clenched teeth.
The report of the gun sounded loud in the tense silence of the small room and it seemed to Lee that it took hours for the Marine to move forward to help him lift Sharon's dead weight off of him. Sitting up, he scooted quickly away from the body to lean his back against the nearest wall. Now that the crisis was ended, he found that his entire body was shaking violently. Taking a few deep breaths, he tried to regain control over his body.
It was a moment before he realized that a Marine, not the one who'd been in the room with him, was kneeling beside him, speaking. "Are you alright, sir? Are you injured at all?"
Lee shook his head, not trusting himself to speak yet. He was vaguely aware of the sound of someone vomiting in the background. He sat for a long time, staring at the ruined mess of what used to be Sharon Valerii, or one of the Sharons. He was feeling a lot of conflicting emotions at that moment, but surprisingly, guilt and remorse were not among them.
Lee found Boxey in his 'quarters'. It was an unused supply room located down the hallway from the crew Chiefs' barracks. Even with all the shelves removed, the small room was only just big enough to hold a cot and a small trunk for the boy's few belongings. It was cramped and dimly lit, but it did have the luxury of its own utility sink. Not even the officers' barracks boasted of that. The boy was sitting on the bed, hugging his knees to his chest. He started to get to his feet respectfully when Lee entered, but the captain waved him back down.
"May I sit down?" Lee asked politely, gesturing to the bed.
"Yes sir," the boy said, staring, wide-eyed, at Lee's shirt.
Glancing down, the captain saw what had obviously caught the boy's eye. Even though he had removed his blood-spattered uniform shirt, some of it had evidently soaked through to his undershirts. He hadn't noticed it. There was probably still blood visible on his neck and shoulder as well. Belatedly, the captain realized that he probably should have showered before coming here, but it was too late now. Seating himself awkwardly at the foot of the bed, he tried to decide how best to break the news to Boxey. As it turned out, the internal debate was unnecessary.
"She's dead, isn't she?" the boy asked quietly.
"Yes."
"Yeah, she's been kind of weird lately. The injury she had earlier... I didn't think it was an accident..."
"I'm sorry, but... She was a Cylon," Lee said. He knew this wasn't a comforting statement, but it was all he could come up with under the circumstances.
Boxey nodded. "She and the chief were the only ones who really seemed to care about me. It just seems strange that one of the few people to care was a Cylon."
"I'm sorry..."
"You keep saying that, but you're not. You wanted her dead. She shot your father."
Lee couldn't seem to find it in himself to deny this accusation, so he simply said, "I'm sorry for your loss."
The boy nodded again and turned away. It was a moment before Lee realized that he was crying, very quietly. The captain froze. He didn't know what to do. Aside from his brother, who had only been three years younger, he had never dealt with children. He had a sudden, incredible desire to run away, to abandon the child to his private grief. But remembering what it felt like to lose someone close and not have a sympathetic shoulder to lean on, he pushed that desire aside and gently pulled Boxey into his arms. He held the boy for a long time while he cried.
He continued to hold the boy even after he had cried himself to sleep. Boxey's relatively small weight was somehow comforting to the captain's ravaged emotions. Evidently in offering comfort, he received it as well. He had never really experienced this before. His own father had never held him and soothed him in this way. Granted the man hadn't been around much to offer sympathy. Perhaps if he had been home more... Lee gave his head a slight shake, dispelling the unproductive thoughts. There was nothing to be done about the past. Only the future could be altered...
An abrupt, loud buzzing sound came over the PA system, as well as a voice calling for action stations. Lee quickly, but gently, disengaged himself from the still-sleeping child. At last, he thought, I can see if my plan works.
To be continued...
