"The basic passenger capacity is eight people, but our engineer figures most of that space can be converted to weapons specifications..."
The words of Hephaestus Captain Larson Moore filtered into Lee Adama's brain, and he nodded, watching the proceedings with as much interest as he could muster. He would admit, it wasn't much. Chief Tyrol seemed in near-ecstasy, down on his hands and knees to peer behind panels and inspect the wiring inside the fourth of the eight shuttles. He did all of it with a seemingly endless grin on his face. His crew chief was clearly enjoying himself.
Then again, Tyrol actually had something to do. Lee had realized quickly that, for all intents and purposes, he was there for appearances. Chief Tyrol's opinion would be the deciding factor on whether or not these ships would meet the requirements for sentry duty, and Tyrol would be the one making the modifications to the ships once they were on board the Galactica. All Lee could do was watch and take notes. That, and do a lot of nodding.
He wondered idly if his father hated inspections as much as he did, and found a smile creeping onto his face. For the first time in two years -- and maybe longer -- he actually wanted to know what was going on in his father's mind. He actually cared. Ten days ago, he wouldn't have given a shit. Hell, he wouldn't have bothered caring to give a shit.
He hadn't stopped to think how much energy being angry had taken from him over the past two years. He'd spent literally hours each day -- sitting alone in the cockpit of a Viper, lying in his bunk at night, staring at his food in the officer's mess -- building and rebuilding the case against his father. He reinforced it, restructured it, and fed it with his grief and fury.
And now it was gone. The truce -- albeit an uneasy and uncertain one -- left him with a profound sense of welcome relief ... and more than a little apprehension. He hadn't been kidding when he told Kara he was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed, tired, exhausted, wrenched apart ... he'd been so busy dealing with everyone else's problems it had been far too easy to avoid his own. Maybe it was a good thing Kara liked pushing when she got the notion. Otherwise, he might have left this alone until ... until when? He didn't have an answer, and that scared him now.
"Frak it all to hell!" Tyrol's fierce swearing snapped Lee's attention back to the present. He looked back just in time to catch the end of the chief's headlong dive across the floor and into the wall. The operations panel he'd been inspecting spat out a shower of fierce of sparks, making ominous crackling noises that Lee could relate to the cooking of electrical wiring. Then the panel gave one final pop, sizzled for a moment, and then finally belched out a cloud of black, stinking smoke.
In the silence that followed, Lee looked from Tyrol to Captain Moore to the panel, and then rubbed his eyes. When he finally spoke, he couldn't keep the sardonic humor -- a subtle gift that he was beginning to remember ran in the family -- out of his voice.
"I take it that wasn't supposed to happen?"
*~*~*
Extreme boredom and Kara Thrace did not get along well.
Shifting two inches to the right in the pilot's chair of the shuttle, Kara edged her feet up to the control console and balanced her left heel on the very edge. Then, perching on the extreme right of the seat, she shifted her weight so her right heel landed directly on top of her left toe.
A second later, the left heel slipped and Kara's feet slammed to the floor. Thrown off balance, Kara crashed out of the chair, her left elbow colliding with the side panel on her way to the floor. As she hit, the overhead lights flickered out as the switch on the panel clicked home.
Great. Just frakkin' great. With a loud sigh, she heaved herself off of the floor and back into the chair -- this time leaving her feet firmly on the ground. She reached for the light switch, and then decided to -- at least for the moment -- leave them off. There was plenty of light coming in the front window from the landing bay, and she really didn't need the extra illumination.
She'd volunteered to remain with the shuttle, figuring it was the lesser of two evils. SHE had been on inspection tours lately; with a wry grin, she wondered just how bored Apollo was right about now. Then again, maybe some boredom would give him time to think the current situation through a little bit. Gods knew, they both needed a little downtime.
There were times she truly wanted to hit Lee, and times he impressed the hell out of her. Right now, Starbuck was pretty well stuck in the middle. Being CAG was a damned thankless job; you got all the responsibilities of being a pilot along with the responsibility of every other pilot on the ship and every other support crew member. Even Ripper -- who had been in the job the two years she'd been on board the Galactica and five before that -- had fried his brain on more than a few occasions.
And that had been in peacetime conditions. Lee had been shoved into the job on the basis of seniority, with no training, no support and a war none of them had seen coming. He was on a ship he'd never set foot on in the time his father had been in command ... under a commander he hadn't spoken to for two years and hadn't seen eye-to-eye with for much, much longer. Lee was right; he had a hell of a lot to worry about.
He could handle it, of that she was certain. Kara had no command aspirations; she didn't have the tact, the brain or the patience for it. She just wanted to fly. Lee, however, was going to be a brilliant CAG. She'd seen his scores from war college. He had the best theoretical mind in his class, and had consistently maxed out on his test scores. He was a damned fine pilot -- not the best in the squadron, that spot had been hers for ages, but he was damned good -- and he...
He was an Adama. He had his father's command stature and character. Starbuck sighed, and stretched back in the seat. The two of them would eventually figure it out on their own, but she knew something they didn't want to admit right now: they needed each other. The sooner everyone got that little fact through their frakkin' brains, everyone would be a lot happier.
Lee had made her a promise, and she'd respect that ... for now. Then again, on the return flight, maybe a few pointers and a plan to lock them in the commander's quarters would be in the offing. Starbuck grinned to herself, then looked out the forward viewport at the dead quiet of the landing bay and let out a sigh. With a little more control, she kicked her left heel up onto the console again, and tried to balance the right while looking out the window.
Boredom plain sucked.
*~*~*
Lee hauled the chief to his feet, as Tyrol choked and coughed out the last of the smoke. He started to ask whether Tyrol was all right, but got waved off. The chief pulled away, and tried to steady his balance without any help.
"What the hell was that, Chief?" Tyrol shook his head for a minute, and Lee realized the man was still trying to clear his head. Lee watched him for a minute, making sure Tyrol wasn't about to collapse back down onto the deck, then went to the next person in line.
"Captain Moore?" The Hephaestus's commander in chief looked at him blankly, and then shook his head as well.
"I'm sorry, Captain. We went through these shuttles just yesterday!" The captain sounded rattled, and Lee got the distinct impression the man half-expected to be arrested on the spot. "We went through power-up procedures, checked the couplings, we even--"
"Relax, Captain. I'm not angry and I'm not looking to lay blame." Lee felt like an amateur politician. "I just want to find out what happened and if the rest of the shuttles have the same problem."
"THIS shuttle wasn't supposed to have a problem!" A tinge of anger edged into the Captain's voice, and Moore shifted his glare towards Tyrol, who was still bent at the waist with his hands on his knees. "Are you sure your man didn't--"
"I didn't frakkin' touch anything I shouldn't have!" Tyrol extended back to his full height, and Lee could see the honest fury in his Chief's eyes. "I know more about shuttles than you could learn in--"
"Enough!" Lee had gone from feeling like a politician to a referee, and he let a little of his own annoyance seep into his voice -- just enough to make a point. "Gentlemen, let's work the problem, okay?" Both men stared at him in astonishment, and then nodded without saying a word.
Lee sighed, and gestured Tyrol to the panel.
"If you know the shuttle, Chief, tell me what went wrong." Lee forced a smile on his face -- for the chief's benefit, and his own. "Please."
*~*~*
After balancing herself on the console -- this time, with her heel firmly locked against the autopilot control -- Kara yawned and looked at her chronometer. Thirty minutes. Barely even a half hour had passed. She sighed and resumed staring out the front of the shuttle, giving a passing effort to count the hull buckles in the corridor leading away from the docking area.
There. Kara's eyes caught a flicker of movement, and she leaned forward, squinting to catch what was barely in her range of vision. If the lights hadn't been off in the shuttle's cabin, she never would have seen it, but ... there. Her eyes locked onto the movement again, and this time, she saw the person lurking in the shadows just at the edge of the access corridor.
Now she was curious. She hadn't seen anyone other than the captain and a few support crew that had hung around barely long enough to lock down the shuttle to the deck. And the captain had left with Tyrol and Lee to inspect the shuttles. Since then, she hadn't even seen so much as a rat's ass scurry in the shadows.
She jumped out of the chair, more than happy for the momentary distraction. All things being equal, it was probably just a crew member lurking around the landing bay hoping to catch a look at the Galactica crew. Most of the civilians -- ship's crew and citizens alike -- seemed to flock whenever the Galactica pilots or staff were around. Some just wanted to say thank you, others wanted to see the fancy flying machines that had saved their lives.
Whatever it was, Kara would be happy to oblige. Though, as she slipped through the shuttle's hatch and out into the bay, she wished the curious onlooker had just come up and knocked. Maybe the lights being off inside the shuttle had proved a deterrent. Cursing softly to herself, Kara looked around the front of the shuttle.
"Hello?"
The hair suddenly standing up on the back of her neck, Kara ducked just in time to avoid the pair of blaster shots that slammed into the shuttle -- exactly where her head had been milliseconds earlier. She dropped and rolled as another set of shots followed in furious succession.
*~*~*
Muttering to himself the whole way, Tyrol was firmly entrenched under the console looking for the cause of the short when the muffled but distinct sound of blaster fire entered the shuttle.
Lee's head snapped around as he drew his sidearm, and from the sounds behind him, the captain and the chief weren't far behind him. No one -- and Lee had noted with interest the grim satisfaction on Captain Moore's face when he'd announced it on their arrival -- was supposed to be down in this part of the ship. The ship's crew had their own duties, and the civilians the Hephaestus had taken on were confined to the empty hangar bay that had been converted to communal living quarters.
Tyrol, Lee and the captain were supposed to be three of the only people in this area. Which left just one option.
"Starbuck!" Lee slipped out of the back of the shuttle, careful to keep under cover and out of whatever line of fire had been established. The shots had been muffled, but by what he couldn't tell. They could have come from the hangar, or out where the Galactica shuttle was docked. Either way, he really didn't want to present his head to be put on a platter.
His shouted greeting was met by silence. Lee looked towards and ceiling, and felt his stomach lock up. Shit. Kara had gotten herself into some sort of trouble. He didn't know what, and he didn't expect the situation to resolve itself quietly -- especially if Kara had been on the shooting end of the blaster. He didn't know if he was angry yet, or just worried, but he wanted to find her and get some frakking answers before someone got a blaster burn in the head.
Using the three shuttles they'd previously inspect to stay out of whatever line of fire had been established, Lee edged forward, his gut clenched into a knot. A hand came down on his shoulder, and Lee spun to find Chief Tyrol's taller frame hovering behind him, his own sidearm at the ready.
"Sorry, sir, but..."
Tyrol never got a chance to finish the sentence. Lee felt the trouble before he heard it, a sudden rush of air and a popping in his ears. There was silence, and then the eerie rebound of compressed air bouncing off of immovable bulkhead.
All directly in the air surrounding them.
Age and experience gave Lee a fraction of a second to grab for Tyrol, and he hoped the ship's captain was close behind. Giving up all pretense of cover, Tyrol gave no fight as Lee ran for the hatch, praying they had enough time.
"Hit the frakkin'..."
Then he was surrounded by noise, and air, and a blast of heat so intense Lee felt the world go white-hot around him. They all gathered around him, then shoved him off his feet and tried to rip him apart. He felt a tremendous force pull him up into the air, and searing flashes of impact followed by pain, a shower of abuse in too many places to count. A fist of immeasurable strength slammed into his throat and then another into his chest, and all of his breath was ripped out of him so quickly a scream aborted into a gasp.
Then the world closed in around him, darkness forcing out all light and sensation. He choked for clean air and found nothing, nothing but an all-enveloping black haze. It slipped over and around his senses and pulled him away, the world slipping away in confusion and pain.