Author's Note: I could just be getting defensive, but I would like just to say, so that perhaps the story is easy to read, that I often use incomplete and run on sentences to convey mental state and stream of consciousness to some extent. So for my beloved nitpickers, don't fret about that. Tis supposed to be that way. Also, I'm going back through chapters one and two to correct any typos and grammatical errors. Those chapters will then be reposted. This is my gift to you. Enjoy!

"You wanna tell me what that was all about?"

Helo was upset. He was more upset than he had any right to be, in truth. He did not have exclusive conversation rights with Sharon. Perhaps, because he was the only one who had really shown an interest in speaking with her up until now, he had settled into the idea. Or perhaps it was because he had noticed her spending so much time in the resistance's sorry excuse for an infirmary, and her apparent interest in Captain Adama bothered him. Whatever the reason, he had pulled her aside as soon as she had emerged from the room, all but oblivious to the stricken expression she wore. He was not threatening necessarily…just worn out and testy. They all were. And it made him sharper than he intended.

"Not really."

Someone who didn't know her better might call her tone casual. But Helo heard the quiver in it. He saw the way her eyes darted about, marking everyone who might be within hearing distance. When she drew back from him and made her way towards a more private area in the yard, he let her go. He felt their eyes on him as he followed. Of course it could not be clearer that Sharon wanted to talk to him privately, and about something that clearly upset her. She had cast all subtlety to the winds, not caring who she snubbed, or if they knew she was snubbing them. And her voice wasn't the only thing quivering; he could see, as he followed along behind her, the muscles tense and shuddering along her shoulders and back. Her fists were clenched.

"Sharon?" he asked. "What's going on?"

She did not answer. Either she did not want to answer out in the open or, which seemed more likely, she did not trust herself to get into whatever it was that was bothering her at all before reaching her destination.

The destination turned out to be the corner of the old geography classroom they had been given quarter in for the duration of their stay. No one else was here now. It was early, and everyone preferred being outside during the day, where the memories of those who had passed before them were not so vivid; sometimes even Helo imagined he could hear the students chattering and laughing, the teacher trying to quiet them, the bell ringing. Sharon folded herself down onto the pile of blankets that served as their bed, resting her forearms on her knees with her fingers steepled and her eyes on the floor. She was still shaking. Helo did not know what to say, but it didn't feel right, standing over her like he was. All he could do was position himself on the floor in front of her, and wait.

"Ever since we found Marcel…" she began. Then stopped. No. That's not the way to begin. What was the right way to begin? What could possibly be the right way? "You have to understand Helo. I didn't want to mislead anyone. No good would have come from me saying anything. Not then."

"Sharon, I have no…fraking idea what you're talking about."

"I know you don't. I know. And I hoped you wouldn't have to. But the cylons that had Apollo, they did more than just physically torture him. They told him things, things he never should have had to know. That's why he asked to talk to me. He wanted to know if it was true."

She paused. There was no easy way to say this. She had to tread carefully, because if Helo reacted badly he could jeopardize their position here with hardly any effort at all. All he would have to do would be to tell the landing party from Galactica what she was about to tell him, and their entire mission here, the lives lost, the time spent, would have been for nothing. She hoped, prayed, he would understand that. Best, she thought, to begin with the technical drivel first.

"We, the cylons, produce all our own ordnance..."

"We knew that."

"Don't interrupt. Raiders and Basestars are designed to utilize various types of ammunition, to suit different targets. The shells you'd fire at a Viper, or we'd fire, are different from those we'd fire at a battlestar, for example. We have a type of gun, and a type of ammunition for each function."

"Makes sense." Of course it did. She hadn't told him anything yet that he wouldn't have known already.

"Yes. It's also efficient. Our centurions are designed for man to man combat, to destroy humans or their works. Every centurion is outfitted with the same type of gun, which fires the same ammunition, which can be produced rapidly without worrying about making twenty different kinds of bullets, and shipped off to arm the centurions, Raiders, Basestars…" She paused, eyeing him carefully. He wasn't getting it. Or he was, but he wasn't reading between the lines. To him, what mattered was not so much how the cylons were going to kill him, or with what, but only that they were going to try to kill him, every time, and he was going to stop them, every time. Binary thinking was supposed to be the bane of her people, she thought with exasperation. Ok then. Hit him with it straight. "If the scouting party had been shot up by cylons, then they would have all been shot with only one kind of bullet. The entry wounds would all be the same size."

For a moment, she thought he still hadn't understood. His face had taken on a distant expression. It was one of the things she had come to love about Helo, though it was hardly his best attribute. Once he was started on a puzzle, or dilemma, it sometimes took him a while to figure things out, or figure out where he stood. But once he realized what was going on and made a determination on the subject, he was solid, unwavering. When at last he spoke his voice was deadpan. If "still," or "motionless," were words that could be applied to the human voice she would have used them to describe his. His eyes did not lift from the floor. His chin did not lift from his folded hands, nor his elbows shift off his knees. He, like his voice, did not stir.

"Marcel and Apollo were shot with two different guns. Would human model cylons have been packing?"

She shook her head, realized he wasn't looking at her. "No."

He had expected that answer. He and Kara had been talking about it actually, the night before last. About how Sharon was the only one of the human model cylons they had ever seen travel armed. Doral had brought a bomb on board Galactica, but that wasn't the same thing. He nodded, just slightly. But she wasn't through.

"There's more Helo. Marcel wasn't just gunned down."

"He was sniped." Helo had observed that much on his own, at least. It made her just a little proud.

"That's right. He was sniped. And cylons…don't… snipe." He raised his eyes then. She was coming very close to saying the thing she had only been dancing around so far, and he wanted to be looking in her eyes when she did. For some inexplicable reason, he wanted to read those eyes when the words left her mouth. "Centurions are in for the big kill, take out as many as you can, as quickly as you can. Even when you fought them, just you, did they ever fire just one round at a time? Precision shooting one man is inefficient and ineffective."

"There were a lot more shots fired at the scouting party than just one."

"You heard the same thing I did out there Helo. You heard one shot, followed by many. Not a barrage of shooting all at once." She took a deep breath, looking at him earnestly. "Humans shot Marcel. Humans shot Apollo. They didn't torture him, but they shot him, and they're the reason he was weak, he didn't make it back to us, and was caught. Humans are the reason Faustus is dead, and Tallys, and Gavin."

"Faus and Tallys and Gavin were killed by cylons."

"Yeah, but who created the situation? Who's the reason it happened? That's what they told Apollo. They told him is own people had tried to kill him. And they weren't lying."

Helo stood up then, abruptly, and began to pace. She knew what he was thinking, could see it all over his face. Strange, how he coped with things in terms of others. And strange how she did, because the same thought had occurred to her. When Starbuck found out about this, she was going to crack skulls.

"He doesn't want us to tell her." Better hit him with it now than later anyway… Helo stopped dead, and spun to face her.

"He doesn't…"

"Says he wants to be the one to say something. We're under orders." She smiled, thinking of the feelings that had coursed through her when Apollo had ordered her to keep silent about everything they had discussed; he hadn't treated her like a cylon then, but as Lieutenant Valerii of the Battlestar Galactica, a pilot under his charge.

"She finds out we kept this from her it'll be our asses in a sling."

She shrugged. "Can't be held responsible. He outranks her."

"Yeah," he mumbled. "Because that's gonna matter."

It was a long time, after Sharon left, before Lee could bring himself to open his eyes. A few people had come to visit him, but had all gone away after a little while, because they believed he was asleep. And he had let them believe it. He couldn't deal with anyone, not while he was so angry, feeling so betrayed. He wondered who it had been. He wondered if he had seen their faces and not even known it.

It was Seek who drew him out. She had been left alone here for as long as Lee had been "sleeping," and her patience was wearing thin. Starbuck would be along, no doubt, to take her out and walk her. The two seemed to have bonded pretty well. They had something in common, after all.

But after a while it became clear that, if Starbuck had any intention to return and walk the dog, it would not be soon enough. Seek was whimpering, snuffling at Lee. She even barked once, which startled him; he hadn't often heard her bark, just chuff softly. And growl of course. So, at long last, he opened his eyes to the desperation of her situation. Time to walk the dog.

"You're a jackass you know that don't you?" Blink. "Yeah. Ok."

Getting up proved harder than he had expected. For days, he had made his way through the Caprica forest. He had been injured, but he had stayed on his feet, got up when he was down, kept himself moving forward. But, apparently, after lying on his back stiffening up for a little while, his body was not so inclined to…well, do all that shit again. Someone had left the old man's cane leaning against the wall in the corner. Pretty thoughtfully he thought. He couldn't reach it of course, not from where he was. Aw, what the hell.

"Seek, get the stick." Blink. "Oh come on. I thought every dog knew 'get the stick.' Isn't that…the generic dog command? What about 'fetch?' Do you know 'fetch?'" Blink. "Frak. You have a sense of humor don't you? Smartass." Pushing himself up to a sitting position, and easing his legs over the side of the cot, was effort enough to have him in a cold sweat. "Well you'll have to get me over there, you know that don't you?"

Blink.

Bracing himself on Seek was old hat for him, and her as well. She stood there patiently while he used her bulk as a crutch to get himself to his feet, then gripped her collar to steady himself when he swayed back on his heels. Step by step, and feeling vaguely bad about jerking Seek around so much as he walked, he made his way over to the cane in the corner.

It was easier after that, with both the cane and the dog for support, and his muscles started to limber up some too, as he moved. A few people glanced questioningly at him as he walked by, but he was too focused on every step to even notice, much less heed their concern. He did catch one muttered comment about what Starbuck's reaction would be when she saw him out of bed. He grimaced. Yeah, he would get his ass handed to him, of that there was no doubt. But the dog had to go out, and he had to get up. It wasn't like they could hang around on Caprica forever just because he got himself all banged up. They were under orders from Galactica to deliver the supplies, collect any personnel wishing to be relieved, and return as soon as possible. Lee was not even sure how long they had been down here already, but the fleet had been waiting for them, and would be getting antsy.

One step at a time, he made his way out of the building and into the yard. There was a bench near the door, which he lowered himself onto so that he could sit for a while as Seek ran. It was strange, being here, sitting peacefully, knowing what he knew. Human weapons had shot him, and Marcel. Humans. The very people he had come here to help had gunned down a good, honorable man, who had already sacrificed more in the service of his Colonies than most would imagine in their most feverish nightmares. The scene played through his mind over…and over…and over. They had been standing there, just standing, laughing and joking and watching the setting sun. Then there had been a hole in Marcel's head. And he'd been gone. Just like that.

And humans had done it. Not cylons, their enemy, but humans. Was it these humans, he wondered? Had these men and women who walked and chatted around him now, that fed and sheltered and cared for him, been responsible? He could not know, not unless someone told him. He doubted anyone here would volunteer that information. It wasn't unreasonable to think; it had been dusk, they had been wearing camouflage, and anyone shooting at them from the ravine would probably have only seen their profiles on that ridge. Or maybe there was a cylon infiltrator in the resistance, who had shot first, or encouraged the others to shoot. Could be there was another group of humans out there too…but that seemed less likely.

And it didn't really matter anyway. No matter how he struggled to rationalize it, he couldn't…just couldn't forgive them. Whoever they were. Marcel and Faustus had been good men, two of the very best. They had been men of his ship, warriors of Galactica. And in these last months, with the pressure and pain they had all shared, they had become his brothers. And they were dead. Maybe Faus had been killed by cylons but he wouldn't have been, not if they had been able to just turn around, and return to the rest of their crew. Flying a Viper he had been with men and women when they died. But it was different. When someone got shot down in a Viper you saw the Viper die. Maybe you heard the cursing and wailing over the wireless, but you didn't see it. The blood never splattered on your face. He didn't think he would ever get used to it. Didn't think he should.

The dog was across the yard now, chasing between two resistance men who were tossing a ball back and forth, laughing. Neither of them were cylons anyway. He was so caught up watching her antics that he didn't notice Racetrack and Landin approaching. They didn't sneak up on him exactly, but he was still startled when they sat on either side of him.

"Damn Cap," Landin chirped. "You know what Lieutenant Thrace is gonna do to you when she sees you out of bed?"

"I've survived a lot worse than Kara Thrace, Corporal."

"Oh no doubt about that, sir. Doesn't mean you'll survive Kara Thrace though."

"No. And it doesn't mean you'll survive Walker either…" Lee treated Landin to devilish grin, pleased to see the other man pale and shoot a startled look in Racetrack's direction. "Does the Corporal know you're out for a stroll with his girl?"

"Sir," Racetrack cut in, with what she probably thought was a casual voice. "There's nothing going on with Corporal Walker. That would be against regs."

"Sure it would Lieutenant. But then so would a lot of things."

They were distracted for a moment by playful shouts from the ball players. Seek had snatched their ball away from them on a bounce and was tearing around the yard with it, running circles around the two men. Lee tried with all his strength not to laugh, since he really didn't think his ribs could take it. Of course Landin and Racetrack had no such reservations; they both practically fell of the bench. Watching Seek's little game, and being with Landin and Racetrack, eased Lee's mind a bit. Yes, he had lost too many men on this mission. Yes, he would carry their names close to his heart for the rest of his life, however long that was. And yes it was by the hands of his kin he had suffered these losses. But there would be time to dwell on that later. Now he would focus on what he still had, and what he had gained. He would let his load lighten, and his heart relax as much as he was able. They would be leaving soon. They would be going home soon.

Except that there was one thing left to do.

He had promised Sharon that he would tell Starbuck about the bullets, about who had shot up the scouting party. He had not understood why it was so important for her to know, or for anyone to know. It could not be changed, and, as he was quickly learning, there was no justice in a jackass universe. But Sharon had assured him that she would have to tell Helo what she knew, if no one else, and that he would insist on telling Starbuck if she could not reassure him that Lee would do so. Even after he had ordered her to keep her mouth shut, she had told him this. Props for honesty at least… Anyway, he wouldn't be able to relax, put it out of his mind, if he didn't get it off his chest. She knew these people. She would be able to reassure him, maybe warn the Resistance of a possible traitor in their midst; though he was beginning to doubt there was such a traitor, since everyone still had their throats as far as he knew.

"Hey. Do either of you know where I can find Starbuck?"

"Yes sir." Landin swiped tears of glee from his face, holding his ribs and fighting down his laughter. "She's at the pyramid court I think. Back between the gym and main buildings."

"Thanks."

He hoped he did not look as weak as Landin made him feel, leaping up to offer the injured captain his arm like he did. He also hoped he did not sound too cold when the thanked the marine for his help. Seek saw him getting up and trotted over to him happily, tail flagging and tongue lolling. He couldn't help but smile. One had to find reasons to smile, in times like these. He took her color with one hand, braced on his cane, and made his way in the direction Landin had indicated.

Not even Lee realized at first, what he meant to say to her. Yes, he was going to tell her what his tormentors, and later Sharon had revealed to him. He was going to warn her of a possible infiltrator in the resistance, or maybe a human insurgency that did not, for whatever reason, want any interference from the fleet. Gods, the more he thought about this the more crazed his notions became. But more than that, he wanted to tell her about his journey. He wanted to tell her about the times he had nearly given up, just curled up and died, but he hadn't, because she wouldn't let him. He hadn't because he had known she would give up everything to find him, and because she always drew him. They were a team, always had been. He would have gone so far as to say soul mates if the notion didn't terrify him so much. And he wanted to badly to tell her… in an offhanded way of course…that he would be dead without her now. And he wanted to thank her.

Kara Thrace was sitting at the pyramid court, eating what passed around here for food and thinking about the last several days. This had not been how she had thought things would happen. From the time they had been forced to land farther away from the school than they intended, up until, it seemed as though things had gone from bad, to worse. But she knew it only seemed that way. Things were getting better now, anyway. Lee was back, and he would live. That was something. And she had returned to find Samuel T. Anders still alive and kicking. That was something else.

"Hey, is this seat taken?"

Speak of Hades and he appears. She hadn't even noticed Anders' shadow falling over her.

"Nah. Pull up a chair."

He laughed shortly, dropping down on the ground beside her. He looked…very well rested.

"Haven't seen you around today. You been hiding?"

"Nope."

Why didn't she want to talk to him? She liked this guy, didn't she? The feelings were eerily similar to her return to the fleet after her first jaunt to Caprica; Lee had wanted to talk, but she had no words for him. Why? Guilt. The word rose unbidden to her mind. Of course. It was always Guilt.

"Well I guess you guys have a lot to do, getting ready to go back to fleet and everything." He waited. And when she did not reply, "I mean now that you have your captain back and everything. That's it."

"What are you looking for Anders? What do you want me to say?"

"Ha! Well I want you to say that you'll stay. I want you to say that this, all of this wasn't just you following orders and bringing a few supplies down and telling us the fleet is praying for us and taking off our sick and injured. We need you here Kara."

"Could have fooled me. You practically threw me out last time I was here."

"That's crap and you know it! You had a job to do last time. If you had stayed without taking that arrow back you would never have forgiven me."

It was true of course. Her people would be lost. A third of the fleet would have been destroyed, orbiting Kobol and waiting for her to return. And she never would have been forgiven.

"I have a mission this time too," she said. More to herself than to him really. He noticed that.

"Yeah and you've done it. Mission accomplished."

"Hardly."

There was no way to explain it to him of course. The bonds of love and loyalty she shared with the crew of Galactica could not be described to someone who had never experienced that culture, that way of being. And her family was there. Or would be there. She knew that if she told Lee she was staying to be with Anders he could go back. It would break him, but he would go, because he would think that that was what she wanted. Dunbass,

"And why am I the one who had to make the big leaps anyway? Why can't you come with us? There'll be room."

"They need me here."

"Right! Frak Anders, I like your spirit but you know you're not making a dent here. You're all going to die, you know that."

"Maybe. But we are making a dent. We've it four farms since you were here before, blew them all to hell. And we have another raid coming up. You should be there Kara. That was your mission, remember. That was why you wanted to stay before."

"Yeah but I didn't stay did I? I have a duty to the fleet."

"You have duty to the Colonies! Last I looked, the fleet is not one of the Twelve Colonies. Caprica is." He grunted. "The colony your precious Galactica was built to protect if I'm not mistaken."

"Careful," she growled.

They passed a while in silence. Neither one of them knew what to do in this situation. Which stood to reason, of course, because no one had ever been in this situation before. Part of Kara wanted to stay. No matter what Anders might think of her life in the fleet, things would be a lot simpler here. The pressure would be less. And it would all be over much sooner. Not to mention the fact that she would hardly mind spending the rest of her life wiping every one of those fraking farms of the planet. Still, the planets on which the twelve tribes had made their home thousands of years ago were not, any longer, the homes of the twelve tribes. There could be no denying that. Even if some human life remained, everything that had made the Colonies what they were had been destroyed. Or had fled. How could she justify staying here defending a tomb, when almost everything worth fighting for that was left in the universe was out there, waiting for her.

"Ok," Anders said at last. "Let's…just not talk about this right now."

"Good plan."

"Up for a game?"

The abrupt switch in direction caught her off guard a bit. She just wasn't used to it maybe. Most people she was close to would never leave off such a serious matter so lightly. She arched a brow at him. Whatever. It might be good to vent some of her… whatever she was feeling. She couldn't put names to them, the emotions coursing through her. But then again she hadn't been able to put names to them for some weeks now.

"Sure. But I'm gonna kick your ass."

Lee rounded the corner to the place where he had been told the pyramid court was and stopped up short, drawing himself back behind the corner. It didn't look as though they had seen them. Both of them were focused, into the game. Gods it seemed like ages since he had seen pyramid played. He could not have said why he did not wait her to see him. Most likely he just wanted to watch; maybe to marvel at her a little.

He had arrived just after the start of the game. There was no doubt that these two played hard. Kara slammed into Anders, almost knocking him down, and dodged around him to score the first point of the game.

The two returned to the center triangle, and this time it was Anders who grabbed the ball first. He was making his way to the goal when Kara slammed him hard. The man kept hold of the ball though, spun around her and scored. One to one.

Kara got the ball first next time out but was knocked almost full to the ground and lost her grip when she broke her fall. Anders recovered, and scrambled to slam the ball down in one of the safe zones.

Lee wondered why Kara was so angry. Anders didn't seem to know it, the way he was grinning like that, ribbing her playfully. She returned his teasing with a lot more venom, and wore an intense, focused expression on her face. She was, to Lee's mind, looking at Anders in much the same way she glared at her punching bag when she working out after a particularly bad day. It wasn't hate. You don't hate a punching bag. It was…well wrath he supposed. She had looked at him that way more than a few times before, when he was all that stood between her and righteous fury. Something had her riled. She was playing far more aggressively that usual.

Lee remembered their flight school days, playing pickup pyramid games in the quad. Kara a wiped the floor with all of them. She had been scouted for the pros out of college, though he couldn't really imagine her as a professional pyramid player. She was born with wings it seemed. But she had game, that much was certain. His competition with her in the air had extended to the ball court, and everywhere else in their lives. He remembered days when the other pilots would just back off and watch the two of them; even the senior officers would be standing around sometimes. Even then, they had been well matched. Always, at work or at play, neither had any greater challenge than the other.

Of course this Anders was challenge enough for Kara. He had played pro, and knew what he was doing. But he wasn't playing as angry as she was, which gave her an edge. She really was beating the hell out of that poor guy.

And Anders was loving it. The more passionately she played, railed against him, the more passionate he became. He couldn't help reaching to her, letting a hand trail on her whenever she was close. He couldn't help moving in on her and pressing close to her and didn't seem to notice when she only hit him harder. Anders was getting pretty hot actually, like he had when he had first played her, thrilled with the feel of her, the intensity of his. It overwhelmed him. As she dodged past him once more, he grabbed her around the waste and drew her in, pulling her against him and kissing her fiercely. She could feel his desire, and her fervor, responded to it willingly.

Lee was in shock. Part of him had expected this, the part of him that remembered Kara Thrace as she had always been. But a greater part of him had been convinced that things would be different now, because he understood what he had not before, had gone where he had not been. He rolled back around the corner, grateful for the wall that was his only support. He leaned his head back against it, let his eyes slip shut. He fought to control his breathing, keep from shaking, keep from crying. He knew it was foolish. Lee had no claim over her. None. He never had. But she had been the only thing that had kept him going, and he had thought… he didn't know what he'd thought. That things would be different now, maybe. But there's not justice in a jackass universe.

He grabbed hold of Seek's collar, too roughly, and walked back the way he had come. His body cried out, hating him for the length of his stride and the tension in his muscles. But he ignored it. There was a fire in him, hotly burning away all other pains. It consumed all else. Her face, and Anders,' mixed with Marcel and Faustus and Tallys and Gavin in his mind. Anders' hands on her, and human hands on human weapons. The others saw it on his face when he made his way back to him, saw the way his eyes smoldered.

Lee Adama had never felt more betrayed in his life.