"Captain! Captain Adama! Sir!!"
That was him. Lee Adama knew that, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he wanted to respond. But everything around him swam in and out of focus, a sea of grey and black surrounded by a haze of pain.
"Sir!" He felt...Lee felt a touch, vague at first, and then ... fingers, a hand, on his throat.
Checking for a pulse. They thought he was dead. Lee forced his eyes open, and tried to take a breath. His whole body spasmed, and his chest exploded with pain. Involuntarily, he screamed ... and it came out as a low moan. His ears roared with a cacophony of sound.
Chief Tyrol's face spun into focus in front of him, the relief clear in his features.
"Captain...talk to me, sir!"
The first wave of nausea slammed into him, and Lee screwed his eyes shut again. Consciousness had returned with an angry vengeance, and it was NOT a place he wanted to be right now. His whole body ached, and he felt like his chest wouldn't expand for all the cubits in the world. He tried drawing another breath, desperate to get the air into his lungs.
He managed to get in a lungful -- a vile, burning lungful that seared his chest and then exploded back out in a violent, hacking cough. It hurt ... Gods, it hurt and it burned. His lungs, his chest, his head, his back ... everything felt on fire. What the FRAK had just happened?
The pain ate at him and tried to force him back down the dark pit he was emerging from. Lee felt the taste of smoke in his mouth, and he realized the heat wasn't just internal, but external as well. And as comprehension set in, Lee opened his eyes to find his chief practically holding him down against the floor, shouting over the noise.
"Don't move, sir. We're going to --"
"Negative." Lee found himself trying to shout, and still hardly hearing anything. He wondered how much of that was him. The chief's face swirled in and out of focus briefly, and Lee tried another breath, breaking out in a fresh series of coughs. But the extra oxygen cleared his mind, and he almost instinctively starting taking stock of himself. Definitely a few broken ribs, and he had to have a concussion from the way his ears were still ringing with the impact from the ... explosion?
Frak. He needed to move, and he needed to move NOW. There just wasn't time to be lying on the floor in pain. Lee got his elbows under him, and in spite of Tyrol's best efforts, managed to gain some leverage and hoist himself up into a rough sketch of a sitting position. He almost immediately lost his balance, but Tyrol grabbed his shoulders and pushed him gently up against the wall.
"Sir, if you have any kind of spinal injury--"
"I don't, Chief." He gasped out the words. "Just ... just one hell of ... of a headache." Lee's voice was raspy, and he still couldn't draw a deep breath. But he COULD be heard, which was all that mattered right now. The rest were just details he would stash away and have a medic look at later. "Report."
"Sir...we've lost the shuttles, sir." Lee just stared at Tyrol, unable to comprehend what the chief had just told him. Tyrol stared at him for a moment, then almost snapped in disgust. "ALL of the shuttles, Captain. The explosion took them all out, along with half the hangar and a lot of the surrounding structures. No idea about the integrity of the ship, but..."
Lee's mind circled wildly, all of the information sinking in past the haze of pain that seemed to leech awareness from everything around him. He looked around and saw nothing but smoke, the occasional flame and endless piles of scrap metal. He also could hear loud pops and cracking, the ominous sounds of atmospheric decompression.
He took another breath, trying to force the air past the knot in his chest. "How..." was all he managed before his voice dissolved into racking cough.
"If you mean the explosion, sir, I don't know." The anger and confusion bled off of Tyrol so clearly that even Lee couldn't miss it. And as Lee's hearing started to finally clear, he realized that the roaring sound was all around him, and that Tyrol's voice was somehow louder than it all. "Sir, I just don't know. This could've been an accident, but..."
Tyrol's voice trailed off, but Lee heard the accusation loud and clear. The fried panel, the blaster shot ... even with his head in less than pristine condition, this just didn't add up.
"What about the landing bay?" Lee shifted against the wall, wincing as he looked around. The sights weren't getting any better as his vision cleared.
"Well, the good news is that the hangar contained most of the explosion. Captain Moore and I got through the hatch, but mostly we just got singed. We're lucky the hatch didn't get blown shut behind us, or we would've had one hell of a time getting back in."
"The Galactica shuttle?" And then something else dawned on him. "And where the frak is Ka...Lieutenant Thrace?"
"The shuttle's still in one piece, sir. I haven't powered her back up yet, but it doesn't look like it got hit by anything. Those things are made to take abuse." Tyrol looked away, clearly not wanting to continue. But the chief finally looked back at him, and Lee's stomach bottomed out.
"Sir, we have no idea where Lieutenant Thrace is. There's no sign of her."
Lee swallowed hard. He wanted to swear, repeatedly and loudly. He hurt so bad that for the first time in his life he would've welcomed passing out. He could hardly breathe, the ship could be breaking apart at the seams around him and now ... he leaned his head back on the wall and winced. Where the hell was Kara?
"Sir? What do you want to do?" Tyrol's voice made Lee open his eyes again, and Lee could see the chief was waiting for orders. Lee bit back the pain, took a couple of breaths -- this time shallow to keep from coughing -- and pushed himself to his feet. He swayed for a moment, his vision going grey at the edges, but he kept his balance.
"Chief, find me Captain Moore. And make sure he's willing to take a few orders. Because we've got some frakkin' work to do, and I'm not in the mood for a fight."
*~*~*
William Adama sat at the Dragus console of the CIC, sipping quietly at the foul cup of coffee in front of him while he read the third shift reports. There was absolutely nothing of immediate concern, a pleasant surprise he wasn't going to question. He'd sent Saul off to bed, a few choice words following his XO about his haggard appearance. Saul had replied with a string of profanities that would have impressed Starbuck, and then disappeared before Will could respond.
"Sir, I have comm traffic coming in from Captain Adama." Duella's soft voice, two rows up behind him, pierced the quiet morning. William turned and gestured to the comm officer with a smile.
"Put it on speaker." Adama pulled his glasses off, laying them on top of the pile of flimsies, and glanced down at his watch. Almost an hour to the second. Lee and Chief Tyrol had expected the inspection to take at least an hour, and that was just for a preliminary overlook of the shuttles and their systems. It sounded like his son had good news.
There was a crackle of static, and Lee's voice began broadcasting throughout the CIC. It took Will less than a second to hear the tone in his son's voice, and to know something was seriously wrong.
"Galactica, this is Shuttle Tyree inbound from the Hephaestus. We have an emergency situation, sir." Lee's voice was raspy and hoarse, and William could hear his son straining just to get the words out. "Repeat, we have an emergency situation on board the Hephaestus. Suggest setting Condition One aboard the Galactica immediately."
Condition One? What the hell? William snapped around and grabbed the nearest commset, literally off the head of a startled ensign working on FTL fixes at the Dragus console. He started speaking before the earpiece was completely in place.
"Copy that, Tyree. Explain the situation, please." Will forced a level of calm into his voice, wearily surprised at how easily it came. Forty-five years of service and two wars into his lifetime, it was almost second nature. "From the beginning, Captain, since the Hephaestus hasn't said one word to us yet."
"Sir, there's been a massive explosion on board the Hephaestus." Will's stomach sunk through the floor, several dozen scenarios running immediately through his mind -- none of them good. The resulting rush of adrenaline hit his system a moment later. "I gave them an order to keep radio silence, so this wouldn't get broadcast to the whole fleet. Sir...we lost the entire hangar bay, all eight shuttles. We're unsure of the exact structural damage to the ship. We are also unsure of the nature of the explosion. Repeat, we do NOT know what caused the explosion. We need to begin an immediate evacuation of the Hephaestus."
William Adama's hands tightened into fists, both at what his son had said ... and what he hadn't. There were over 100 civilians on board the Hephaestus at last count, plus a crew of about 35 civilian duty fleet. Every one would need to be gotten off the ship -- at least temporarily -- and maybe reassigned if the ship's structural damage proved too great. And if the explosion hadn't been an accident ...
William rubbed his eyes, and muted his headset long enough to give his first batch of orders.
"Lieutenant Gaeta, set Condition One throughout the ship. Get Colonel Tigh and Captain Kelley up, with my apologies, and have them report to CIC. And wake up the morning flight squadron and have them report, along with whatever extra support staff you can muster up. I want the alert Vipers in the air as soon as they can be launched."
He then flicked the headset back on.
"Captain, have you got wounded?" There were other things he needed details on, but this first.
"Yes, sir. About five ... about five in the passenger hold, all critical...critical or damn close to it." Lee kept pausing mid-sentence, sounding out of breath and rushed, like he couldn't talk quickly enough. William's stomach tightened. Either Lee was close to panicking -- something his son had never done once in his entire career -- or he was hurt. "We need ... need a sickbay medical crew to meet ... meet us on landing."
"You've got it, Captain." He gestured towards Gaeta, who immediately nodded in return and sent out the order. Without anywhere else to look, he glanced at the radar console, watching the shuttle draw within a few clicks of the Galactica. "Where are your crew chief and Lieutenant Thrace?"
"Sir, Tyrol and ..." Lee had to stop mid-sentence again. "...and Captain Moore from the Hephaestus are evaluating the ship's damage ... staging the evacuation." The strain in Lee's voice was getting worse, and Adama no longer suspected his son was hurt. He knew it with a certainty.
Then Lee gasped out one more sentence, and Will closed his eyes as weariness flooded his body.
"Sir, we have ... have no idea of ... of the whereabouts of Lieutenant Thrace."
"Copy that, Captain." William took a deep breath, let it out slowly. Then he dug for the firmest tone he could find. "Apollo, get that bird on the deck. That is your only goal right now." Silence greeted him in response, and William felt the first stirrings of alarm. "Captain, do you copy?"
There was a long pause before Lee's voice finally came back across the comm.
"Roger ... roger that, Galactica. Shuttle Tyree out."
Will pulled off the headset just as the doors to CIC opened, revealing an exhausted and disheveled Captain Kelley. Behind him, Saul came rushing in, his face practically white with adrenaline. His fifth-year captain was still struggling to button up his uniform, but Tigh looked like he'd collapsed in his uniform and then simply rolled out of bed an hour later on command.
He didn't care. He was grateful and proud of how quickly his staff reacted. All they could do now was work the problem and trust in their abilities. Grabbing his glasses, he slipped them back onto his nose and gave a last round of orders.
"Colonel Tigh, you're with me so I can brief you. I want to see what's going on for myself. Captain Kelley, you have CIC." Then William Adama squared himself, and gave one last look around the CIC. The hair on the back of his neck began to stand on end, and a fresh rush of worry, concern and the first stirrings of anger hit his system. "I'll be down on the flight deck. Stay on your toes, people."
He started to say more, and realized he couldn't. He had too much else on his mind, and his people knew what to do. That would just have to get them -- and him -- through this. He needed to get down to the flight deck to talk to his son.
Without another word, he went out the door, Colonel Tigh trailing less than a step behind.
*~*~*
It look less than five minutes to reach the flight deck. In that time, William Adama briefed his XO in as complete a manner as possible. Considering just how little information Adama had, it had taken less than a minute. Saul had tossed a few questions back at him, Will had answered them, and then they had walked in silence.
They got to the flight deck just in time to see the shuttle make its approach. Will held his breath as the ship made its final landing maneuvers, and then let out a sigh of relief when it cleared the outer markers and set down without incident. Will almost smiled when he heard a familiar, overly-loud thump upon landing, wondering when his son would join the list of pilots bitching to Tyrol about the gymbal lock.
He started to rush headlong into the middle of the chaos that was the support crew anchoring the shuttle, but Saul's firm hand on his shoulder stopped him.
"Easy, Will." His XO's voice was calm and collected, something William knew had all but deserted him at the moment. "Two minutes, and you'll know exactly what's going on."
Will wanted to pull away, but knew better. So, instead, he crossed his arms and put as blank an expression on his face as he could manage. As the flight crew worked with all possible speed, William started forming questions in his mind. How many injured, how many dead ... where the hell Kara Thrace had disappeared to and how hard he would have to argue with his son to get him down to sickbay with the other injured.
Dammit, he wanted answers. And the flight crew couldn't work fast enough to put him a position to get them.
After a space of time that dragged out interminably, the two command staff were finally waved out to the shuttle. William scrambled up the ramp into the shuttle, taking some care to avoid the medical personnel coming on board with them. As he got clear of the entryway, he saw with dawning horror the amount of blood in the back of the hold.
This was no accident. William Adama knew that with a sense of certainty that came from his years of command, too many years seeing what violence looked like in its many forms. They may have to dig for the reason and the cause -- perhaps no further than a Cylon plant -- but there was a statement here. And someone was going to pay dearly for it. Fury building in his stomach, Will forced himself to turn away from the wounded and look for Lee.
He stumbled almost directly into his son. With his first glance, Will thought he saw fury in his son's features, a deep purple blush that bordered on absurd. He felt a grim sort of humor and kinship, and reached out to calm his son.
Then Lee's eyes came up and locked with his father, and all of the simple words on William's mind fled with what he saw. He felt his blood run cold when he realized Lee's eyes were filled with something he had thought he would never see.
Blind panic.
"Can'..." Lee reached for him, his body starting to bend at the waist. Will felt time move in slow motion, his stomach dropping out. "...brea..."
He had just enough time to get an arm around his son, and then Lee collapsed like deadweight into his arms. Off balance, Will sunk to the floor with him, trying not to lose the tenuous grip he had -- both on his son and his own emotions. He saw now his son's face was dark not with fury, but with lack of oxygen. He could feel Lee's chest heaving, trying desperately to pull in a single full breath.
"Dad..." That single word, gasped out in a jilted breath, broke Will's paralysis. Sliding Lee out of his arms and onto the floor, Adama turned his head and yelled clearly.
"I need a medic up here, now!" Not waiting for a response, he got a firm hold of his son's shoulders and pushed him down to the floor -- trying to keep eye contact the entire time. He just needed a second to try and open the airway--
Then he was literally lifted up and out of the way, two medics sliding neatly between him and his son -- dropping a backboard and a bag as they went. William landed neatly on his rear end, then leaned up against the wall of the shuttle to let the medics do their job. One got his weight across Lee's upper body, and started speaking in low tones. The other had an evaluation out of her mouth in seconds.
"Pulse is 140, can't even really get a breath count, and his color's shot to hell. Trachea's displaced to the right and I'm not getting any breath sounds on the left, so my guess is the left lung's collapsed." In the space of a few seconds, she had items out of her bag, and went to work. "I'm going to try and intubate, and we'll work from there."
She stopped to get a clear look at something, and then sat back on her heels, her face caught between disbelief and amazement.
"Carl, I can't visualize the cords. There's massive edema in there. I've never seen anything like it."
"Re-sight it, Lise. And try it again." The medic shot a look at the commander and then back at his colleague. "You've got to get it in now, Lise, or we're not GOING to get it in."
With that, William closed his eyes and started to pray.
Lords of Kobol, hear my prayer. Not now. Not today. Give me one more day with my son.
How long his eyes were closed, William Adama didn't know. But the next thing he knew, people were moving again, and he opened his eyes to see his son being loaded onto the board. One medic was securing him to the board, tightening a cervical collar around Lee's neck. The other kept a steady rhythm with a breathing bag. Amazingly, Lee was fighting neither of them.
"Sir, we need your help." The female medic had turned to him, and she gestured to bottom end of the backboard. "We need a third set of hands, sir. Normally, I wouldn't ask you, but with this many people down--"
A voice from behind them cut her off.
"He'll be going anyway. That's his son, young lady, so you'd better take good care of him." The two medics snapped around to the sound of Saul Tigh's voice, then back to Lee and finally to William as recognition of their patient finally sunk in. Their faces sobered as William looked them each straight in the eye, then reached for the lower end of the board. He and the male medic lifted it smoothly and then backed slowly out of the shuttle.
As he passed his XO, Saul fell in step, leaning in so only Will could hear him.
"Go to LifeStation, Will. We can handle this." Will shivered as the words sunk in, and shook his head as if to argue.
"The situation..."
"Is out of your hands. Hell, it might be out of all our hands." Saul reached over, laying a hand gently over Will's. "You know where you need to be, Will. Trust us to do our jobs."
His throat too tight to speak, William Adama only nodded. Right now, he didn't give a damn about command priorities, or his ship, or even the crisis. All he cared about was his son.
"Let's move, people." The female medic, still bagging his son, cleared the traffic ahead with one firm shout. "We've got wounded. Anyone in the way, stand down -- or get pushed!"