Title- Future (Part 4c/6)
Rating – PG-13
Pairing- Lee/Kara
Archiving- BSG 2003, Apollo/Starbuck Fan Fic, Fanfiction net, all others please ask
Warnings- Violence, language, angst
Spoilers- Seasons 1 and 2 (however, the spoilers are interspersed with lots stuff from my brain so… ;-)
Disclaimers- I don't own these characters and I am not making any profit off them. I'm just borrowing them for fun (well, maybe not the poor characters'...). ;)
Many thanks go to Audrey for the great beta:-)
Summary part 4c- More about what happened to Apollo and the fleet after Starbuck jumped to Caprica.
NB: Italics indicate characters' thoughts.
-The Battlestar Galactica-
Colonial Fleet
90 days after attempted assassination
As Lee jogged through the Galactica's corridors he appeared calm and detached, and seemed to have chosen his route quite arbitrarily. Just another day, another pilot.
Appearances can be deceiving, however. He thought as he carefully took note of the number and identity of the guards flanking the entry to the ship's FTL engines.
He jogged on, humming rather tunelessly to himself. A short time later he passed by two other pilots, Kat and Tiny, also on their morning run. Noting that the corridor was otherwise empty, he stopped. "They just changed the guards near the FTL engines." The others nodded, then set off to pick up the surveillance where he had left off.
He had finally decided to resort to mutiny.
He had begun by determining who was most likely to aid him, and who seemed to be able to keep their mouth shut. He was now working on the second stage, which was a detailed surveillance of the Galactica's most crucial sites –with the notable inclusion of the armory.
The third stage would involve appropriating some weapons and making certain the rest could not be used against them, as well as taking control of selected sites on board ship. And they would need a way of confusing their opposition, because the truth was that there was no place which could not be broken into given sufficient motivation.
-The Battlestar Galactica-
Colonial Fleet
143 days after attempted assassination
CIC was as busy and bustling as usualwhen Commander Adama walked in at the beginning of his duty shift. He'd been put back on full duty a few days ago. That had been welcome news to him, because the fact was that he truly hated being an invalid –and he knew he'd been more difficult with the Life Station's personnel than he should have been, but he hadn't been able to help himself.
"Hello Commander." Petty Officer Dualla said to him as he came in. Lieutenant Gaeta and a few others saluted silently. He'd gotten rid of the standard protocol involved with a commanding officer coming on deck at the very beginning of his command and had never regretted it. He much preferred the simple but honest words and gestures of welcome given by those who felt like giving them.
"What's our status?" He asked.
"We're currently at normal duty stations sir, just like yesterday. Dradis is empty. Colonial One reports a minor glitch in its sublight engines, and Representative Zarek has not responded to the message you sent him yesterday -or any of the previous messages." Dualla replied.
"Great." He said, sotto voce. It looked like he was going to have to take a hard line there. "Does Colonial One require assistance?" He asked more loudly.
"No sir. They said everything is under control." She replied.
Adama nodded, and began to look over various Galactica systems status reports. All in all, it looked like it was going to be another quiet day for their runaway fleet.
Suddenly the lights all over CIC flickered and dimmed, as the Galactica seemed to stagger mightily, throwing people and objects to the floor.
"Commander, sir!" Lieutenant Gaeta was shouting just as the lights came back on.
"What the hell just happened, Lieutenant?" He demanded as he got himself back to onto his feet.
"I don't know, sir…" He was wrestling furiously with his controls. "What I can tell you is that we somehow lost power in many different sectors of the ship for a few seconds."
"But it's back now?"
Gaeta nodded. "Yes sir. Everything's back on now, but… What the frak?" He asked suddenly.
"Talk to me Lieutenant!" Adama snapped.
Gaeta turned to face him. "Sir, I don't understand how, but… I can't access the FTL or sublight engines, the armory, Life Support, and a few other sectors. Somehow the CIC links to all those systems have been knocked out."
"Could it be the Cylons?" Adama asked.
Gaeta shrugged. "It certainly could be. But the only way to see what's going on now is to physically go to each of these locations and report back, sir."
Adama nodded. He picked up an intercom phone and ordered, "Attention all hands. Action stations. Action stations. This is not a drill. More instructions will follow.". He turned to Dualla. "Make sure techs get sent to all the areas we can't reach at the moment. Contact Major Ramsay as well and tell her I want her to send her marines to accompany the techs, just in case." He turned as his XO entered the CIC, summoned by his order to go to action stations.
"What do you think?" He asked after filling him in.
Tigh shrugged. "More sabotage? It wouldn't be completely unexpected –we never did figure out who the saboteur was last time." Adama nodded.
"I wonder if it could be something –or someone else though?" He asked quietly.
Tigh grunted. "Thinking about the Constellation? Well, we don't have any of Zarek's goons here –we never would have let them on board, that's frakking sure."
Adama was about to reply when he was interrupted by Dualla. "Commander! Major Ramsay reports that none of our people can get into the areas they've been sent to, sir."
"Why not?" He asked. "Have they encountered opposition of some kind?"
She shook her head. "No sir. But apparently those sectors are all locked down –the emergency bulkheads have somehow all been triggered in those sectors." She frowned for moment, looking down at her instruments. "I'm getting a written message from inside one of the cut-off zones, sir… Life Support, actually. I-" She abruptly cut herself off.
"What does it say?" He asked, coming up beside her. She handed him the sheet of computer printout.
We now control all systems essential to the Galactica's survival and defense. Our aim –and our most fervent hope- is not to harm anyone, and we have taken this step with the greatest reluctance. We have no wish to cause or effect bloodshed, but we are prepared to defend ourselves if necessary, and we will maintain our positions for any required length of time.
The reason behind our actions is that the loss of our cherished democracy is not something which can be allowed to go unchallenged. Many of us have risked our lives to protect this fleet, and yet now we stand against its current leadership because we believe that there is more at stake in this fight than simple survival. Because we feel that we also must struggle to maintain the ideals that have been at the core of our society since its inception.
Our conditions are as follows. We demand the immediate release and reinstatement of the legitimate President Laura Roslin, as well as free and fair elections. These demands are non negotiable. This aside however, we are open to discussion at any time and we will await futher communication.
Captain Lee Adama
Adama looked up from the printout, and passed it to Tigh.
"Frak me." The Colonel said softly.
Adama stepped into the brig. He gestured somewhat irritably as the marine guard snapped to attention upon seeing him. "Stand easy. I'm here to see the prisoner."
He walked to Roslin's cell without waiting for the guard's nod. She stood facing the bars to her cell, apparently waiting for him.
"I suppose you heard?" He began abruptly.
She nodded. "Billy's been on board since this started and he told me." They were silent for a moment –a tense, charged silence.
"What are you going to do?" She asked finally.
"That's need to know, and you don't have a need." He snapped.
She snorted at that. "Commander, if you're here to ask me if I had anything to do with this, the answer is no. I had no idea this was coming, and you knew as much as I did –and do- about my former Military Advisor's intentions."
"I'd say all this probably doesn't trouble you too much, though."
She shook her head. "Actually, it does, Commander. I never wanted to see a fine young officer like Captain Adama throw his career away –I would also say the same of those who have joined him. And I certainly don't want this situation to turn to bloodshed -as it very well might."
He turned his back to her abruptly, feeling a definite urge to make some holes in the wall. When he got himself under some semblance of control he turned back to her.
"Right." He said in a disbelieving tone, then shook that thought away. "There's one thing I can't understand, however." He said in a calmer tone.
"Only one?" She asked with some sarcasm of her own.
Refusing to lower himself to the level of arguing with her like a ten year-old boy, he ignored her question. "Why did they leave you out here when you're the person they're trying to reinstate?"
She shrugged in reply.
"It does grant us the possibility of using you as leverage in our negotiations, which seems rather ill-planned and out of context when you consider how well thought out this entire little operation has been thus far." He continued.
"It seems odd of you to compliment them." She said in a somewhat surprised tone, gazing at him with raised eyebrows.
He laughed, without real humor. "Only a fool doesn't grant his adversary their due."
"Well, I suppose everyone can make a mistake." She replied.
He shrugged, then cut her off when she seemed about to continue. "I've got work to do." As he walked out of the brig and ignored the guard's punctilious salute, he tried not to think about the many puzzles and unknowns in this situation –or about the fact that unknowns had a way of turning around and biting a person in the ass.
"So, what do you think they're going to do, sir? Do you think they're going to go for it?" Stephens, a computer systems specialist, asked rather nervously as she paused in her labors to wipe sweat off her face. She and others at various locations all over the ship had been at it for hours, throwing roadblocks into the attempts by the people on the outside to override their commands to the emergency bulkheads.
Lee Adama smiled at her reassuringly as he paused in his phone conversation with others in their group who were blocking the entry to the FTL engines. "I don't know. But even if it doesn't, it was a damn good idea."
Stephens grinned back. "Thanks sir. I have to say I'm disappointed I won't be able to put that one on my record. Although to be fair, it was you who told us we'd need the diversion in the first place."
"What do you think they're going to do to us once this is over, sir?" Another nervous voice broke in.
"I don't know, Petty Officer." Lee replied honestly. "That'll be up to them. But what's up to you now is that work you're doing –that way, whatever happens to us later we can at least say that we didn't do it for nothing. Wouldn't you agree?
The man nodded. "Yes sir." He said, sounding somewhat chastened, as he returned to his work.
"Status report." Adama barked as he walked back into CIC.
"Chief Tyrol says it's going to take his people a while before they can override their tinkering on those bulkheads." A crewman reported to him. Adama then turned to Lieutenant Gaeta, who shook his head.
"No sir. I still haven't had any luck overriding their commands from here either. But that's not surprising in a ship like this one, sir –because the computer systems were intentionally put in as standalones as a protection from the Cylons, things were also initially designed so that local commands could override CIC input if it became necessary. It was a protection in the event someone tried to take over the ship by linking the systems into a network from here."
Adama nodded -that particular news had not been unexpected. And, needless to say, Lee and the others with him had also known that little fact about the Galactica's systems and had taken full advantage of it. He rubbed a hand through his hair, then smiled wryly as Tigh gave him a sympathetic look.
"Sir! Picking up multiple enemy contacts on Dradis! It looks like a basestar and several raiders!" Dualla called out, looking at him in horror. A feeling of horror which echoed through him –without control of the Galactica's systems, they were sitting ducks.
Adama found himself drawing on each and every one of his years of experience in order to remain calm. "Contact the fleet and have them prepare for a jump –and tell them they're under orders to jump as soon as they are able." At least we can get the damn civilians out of here., he thought. "And contact Captain Adama. Relate the situation to him in full." He ordered.
"Since we can't, let's see if the Cylons can't get them to budge." He muttered to himself with a stab at gallows humor.
Dualla nodded, swallowing nervously. "Yes sir." She sent her message, then waited. "No response, sir." She whispered.
"What?" He stepped up beside her. "I know they've got their demands, but I can't believe they want to get us all killed by the Cylons! Are you sure they got the message?"
"I sent it out on the standard intraship channel, sir. They haven't responded."
"Sir?" Lieutenant Gaeta was saying.
"Go ahead Lieutenant." Adama said, turning towards him.
"Sir, they might not have gotten the message." He continued urgently. "They might have done more than just override the CIC commands to the ship's systems. They could have actually cut off all the links between us and them –it wouldn't be hard to mess-up and knock out the intraship that way. And that part of their tinkering mightn't have really kicked in until after they sent us their original message, so they'd have no way of knowing."
"Is there another way to get in touch with them?" Tigh asked tightly.
Gaeta nodded. "There might be, sir. If we tried to contact them locally, instead of through the CIC loop… They might have taken out the communications link to CIC only and not to the rest of the ship."
"Enemy launching more raiders, sir!" Frak!
Adama nodded. He didn't much like the idea of giving in, but he wasn't the kind of commander to damn his people because of his pride.
"All right. Lieutenant, I want you to go and contact them. Take whoever you need with you. How fast can you do it?"
Gaeta nodded. "Fast, sir." Getting up, he gestured towards two techs who followed him out of CIC at a run.
"We're sitting here next to a frakking basestar and we can't fight or jump. Just how screwed are we?" Tigh asked sarcastically.
Adama grimaced in agreement, then turned to Dualla. "I want you to broadcast a message to the fleet. Tell them Laura Roslin will be freed and reinstated as President immediately, and that free elections will follow. Conclude it by sending out my authentication code so they'll know it's genuine. Then route a copy of the message to Gaeta with the instruction to pass it on to our 'rebels.'"
Dualla stared at him. "Um, yes sir." She seemed to shake herself. "Messages sent, sir." She said a few moments later.
Nodding, Adama continued. "And the Cylons, what are they doing?" She looked down.
"Sir, it's really odd. They're just… sitting there, sir. Not engaging us."
Adama nodded thoughtfully, then finally turned back to Tigh. "You know, we might not be as screwed as all that, Saul." Tigh looked back at him with a puzzled expression.
"What I don't understand is why those toasters haven't done us in yet." The Colonel muttered with a shake of his head.
Adama smiled sarcastically. "Oh, I think I may just have figured that one out. But then I've got an advantage there." He finished darkly. Tigh responded by giving him a puzzled look.
After a few more minutes of silent tension, Dualla called out from her station. "Commander, sir! The Cylons…"
"What are they doing?" He asked.
"They've disappeared, sir! I'm no longer seeing them on Dradis! But they can't just all have jumped out simultaneously like that –it doesn't make sense!"
Adama chuckled. "Oh, I think it does, Petty Officer. But keep an eye on them for me –will you? And warn me if anything changes." She nodded.
A few moments later, they got the call from Lieutenant Gaeta. There was relief in his voice. "They're standing down, sir. Captain Adama is here and wants to talk with you, sir. And sir, he says the Cylons on Dradis are a technical blip they put up on purpose to confuse us. Looks like they slipped us a little package into the Dradis computers before they began this operation, sir. I've got some people working on weeding it out."
Adama sighed. "That actually doesn't surprise me all that much, Lieutenant. Have the Captain brought to the briefing room, will you? I'll meet with him there."
"Yes sir." He replied, as Adama cut the communication.
"Colonel, you have command. I'll be back shortly." Tigh stopped him with a hand on his arm as he began to move towards the door.
"You knew that was a ruse the whole time –didn't you?"
Adama nodded. "Yes. But then I had an advantage –unfortunately, that's my son over there." He said dryly, before leaving CIC.
Lee was sitting, staring at the wall in front of him when Adama entered the briefing room.
"How about you tell me just what the frak I'm supposed to do with you this time?" Adama asked without preamble.
Lee shrugged uncomfortably. "Whatever you want, I guess." He said softly, not looking him in the eye.
Adama sighed. "Of all the… Let me ask you this –are you determined to do everything I ever told you not to do, and not to do everything I ever told you to do? Help me out here, because I sure as hell don't understand what the hell is going on with you!"
Lee looked up at that. "This isn't about you, sir. Or you and me."
Adama snorted. "What the frak is it about then?" He demanded.
Lee sighed and looked away again. "It's about doing what's right. That's all I was trying to do. Look… I know you don't agree with anything I've done lately, but all I can say is… I'm sorry for disappointing you. But I'm not sorry I did what I did."
Adama laughed bitterly, then sat down. "Yes, I understood that much, thanks. But let me tell you this. You may have gotten lucky because, unlike you, I didn't want to risk the safety of this ship on the unlikely event that the Cylons were really here or the chance that they might actually show up before we resolved this. So I gave in. And now that I have, I know that I can't go back without completely losing face. So, either way –I lose. But so will you –because there's no way I'll keep a loose cannon under my command. Or a mutineer."
Lee nodded. "I understand, sir. And I'll accept whatever decision you make. Although I would like to add that the plan was mostly my idea, and that the others involved are loyal soldiers, sir, despite their recent actions."
Adama frowned darkly. "I'll have to disagree with you on that, Captain."
Lee sighed unhappily, although any other response would have been quite unexpected. "There is also something else I need to say to you before we conclude this."
"Oh?"
"Yes sir." Lee handed his father a sheet of computer printout. After taking a few moments to read it through, Adama raised his eyes back to his son.
"What the hell is this?" He asked.
"It's a statement, sir. Which President Roslin has agreed to have broadcast in her name to the entire fleet-"
Adama interrupted him, reading from the sheet. "Where she apologizes and admits she exceeded her authority in fact if not by law, and to not using proper channels. How-" Adama began, surprise evident on his face.
"I stopped by the brig on my way here. I'd… always thought it would be more appropriate and fair this way, sir. While I was there, I pointed out that she'd be reinstated soon, but that a show of good faith might go a long way. And she agreed." Lee shrugged.
Adama gave him a skeptical look. "I wasn't born yesterday, you know. For her to agree to this there must have been some arm twisting involved."
Lee grimaced. "Well, I did point out -among other things- that her reinstatement was still contingent on your good will, sir. She was enough of a politician to see that. I thought it was a fair compromise, sir. And that's what I wanted." Lee finished quietly, without elaborating any further.
After a few more moments spent staring uncomfortably at each other, Lee walked out of the room, and Adama laid his head on his hands in tired frustration.
-The Battlestar Galactica-
Colonial Fleet
160 days after attempted assassination
"Madam President." Commander Adama said brusquely as she stepped off her shuttle.
"Commander Adama." She replied in kind, wearing a smile that would have been more aptly referred to as a show of teeth.
"You wanted to talk, so let's talk." He said without preamble.
She shook her head, still grimacing. "Well… Why don't we take this to your conference room, Commander? For one thing, it will allow us to maintain our dignity in front of everyone else even if we do end up pulling each other's hair and screaming."
He nodded. He was, in truth, willing to go along with whatever got her off his ship with suitable dispatch.
The silence between them as they made their way to the briefing room was heavy and unpleasant. A few unlucky crewmen started upon seeing them, and promptly gave them a wide berth.
"So, what is it you want?" Adama asked once they were safely away from prying eyes and ears.
She sighed. "I have to warn you that you aren't going to like this."
He laughed at that, as she waved the humor of the situation away impatiently.
"I would like you to send a ship to the coordinates we were at prior to our last jump."
Adama paused at that, unable to believe his ears. "You've got to be joking." He finally managed to say.
She shook her head. "No, I'm not." He began to turn away, dismissing her, and she caught his arm. "And will you listen to me when I'm talking to you?"
He paused, and she removed her hand from his arm. "I'm giving you five minutes." He said bluntly. "And after that, I'm walking out of here and returning to my duties." He sat in a chair at the table. "Your five minutes have begun."
She walked over to face him across the table, leaning on it for emphasis. "I know that we're meant to find Earth." She began softly. "There is no way for us to do so without the Arrow of Apollo which Lieutenant Thrace was supposed to bring back from Caprica. She will not be able to find us if we are not there when she returns to our previous coordinates. And I have… had a vision."
Adama rolled his eyes at that and appeared to be about to speak, when she stopped him with a raised hand. "You did say you would grant me five minutes, Commander. My time isn't up yet."
"What I saw… tells me that she will return and that we will find the way." She continued. "And since I know that you won't agree to do this voluntarily, I'm ordering you to send a ship to determine if we can return to our previous coordinates."
"You're ordering me?" He said angrily, as his face darkened.
"Since I do have that right as President, and unless you intend on reneging on your decision to reinstate me, yes." She removed her hands from the table and stood, gazing at him as she visibly dared him to revisit their earlier dispute.
"You do realize that whomever I send will very possibly die if, as I suspect, there are still Cylons in the system."
"I'm sure of what will happen, Commander. They won't die."
He sighed. "And even if there are no more Cylons in the system, what makes you think they won't return later? They found us there once."
"I know we have to go there." He watched the determination shine in her eyes.
He nodded. "All right, fine." He said, and watched as her eyes widened in shock.
He chuckled without real humor at her response. "I'll tell you what. I'll make a deal with you, Madam President –since you're so sure you're right." And since I'm so sure you aren't. "I'll send out a raptor. If there are no Cylons, we will discuss our options. If, however, there are Cylons in the system or if the raptor doesn't return…" He paused.
"Then what?" She prompted.
"Then, Madam President, you will leave me and my people the frak alone so we can do our job. Do I make myself clear?" He said, not minding in the least the fact that he sounded as though he was dressing down some wet-behind-the-ears crewmember.
To his surprise, she smiled. "It's a deal." They didn't shake on it.
"Are you frakking well out of your mind?" Colonel Tigh exclaimed a short time later as Adama told him of his plan. "The woman's a raving lunatic! I sure hope she doesn't get reelected, because that isn't what she deserves –she should be committed!"
Adama looked back at his longtime friend calmly. "Are you done?" He asked when it appeared Tigh had run out of steam.
"Not bloody likely! What the frak-"
"Well, that's just too bad, Colonel." Adama cut in firmly. "Because I've made my decision and this is still my ship."
Tigh groaned. "Oh come on, Bill. Don't pull rank on me now! And you know the last thing I ever wanted was your job –that's just one more reason why I'm trying to convince you not to do this thing!"
Adama sighed. "I know, Saul. But I have to do this –I have to keep this fleet alive and functioning, and putting the woman in the brig didn't help with that much, the last time. And there's no way in hell I'm sending some kids out to get themselves killed on a suicide run like this one. So I'm going to do it. Besides, even if I don't make it back it'd certainly be worth it for the rest of you since it'd prove her wrong."
"And have you considered what getting yourself killed would do to the fleet?"
Adama smiled. "Don't give up on me so fast, old friend. I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve –even if I am an old soldier. I could actually make it back." He stood, and looked around the briefing room. "Take care of her for me, will you?"
"You know I will." They shook hands in silence.
"But just in case I don't make it back… It's been good run, Saul. See you on the other side." He said quietly, before stepping out of the briefing room and heading for the hangar bay –and his waiting raptor.
When he got to the hangar bay, he saw he wasn't alone.
"I heard." Lee said simply. He now spent his time on Colonial One –he did still have a job there, after all. And since he had had the choice between spending his time in the Galactica's brig or being banished from the ship entirely until his court-martial, he had chosen the latter.
Adama nodded in reply to Lee's statement, as he considered his son –who was not supposed or allowed to be here at all, and yet had found some way to be here to see him off. There were actually many things he wanted to say now that he knew he might never have another chance, and yet he still hadn't learned how to say them. Perhaps he never would.
"For what it's worth, Dad, I'm sorry I disappointed you. I can't be sorry for what I did, but I am sorry for that." Lee said quietly, then paused. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to let me go on this mission in your place, would you?"
Adama shook his head. "No." Was it his imagination or did his voice sound strangled as he said so?
Lee sighed, knowing very well it was more than useless to argue. "It was worth a try, I suppose." He nodded. "Be safe, Dad."
"You too, son." Adama said quietly as he watched him walk away. Finally, he shook himself and stepped into the raptor, and got himself underway.
-Colonial One-
Colonial Fleet
161 days after attempted assassination
"Madam President?" Sean, who was in charge of Colonial One's message traffic, was hovering in the background as President Roslin discussed several issues concerning the fleet with Billy Keikeya and Lee Adama.
"Yes, Sean?"
"Madam President, we've received a communication from the Galactica." He said solemnly, handing her the sheet of computer printout he held.
She glanced down at the message, then held it out to Captain Adama. "Commander Adama has returned, and reports that there are no more Cylons at our previous coordinates." She said with a trace of smugness.
"What are you going to do?" Lee asked, after having read the message.
"I'll have to discuss it with the Commander, but I want us to have a more long term presence in that system. When Lieutenant Thrace returns, we must be there to meet her." She replied.
"With all due respect, ma'am, are you sure that's a good idea? What if the Cylons come back?"
"Then we will deal with it, Captain." She turned to Billy, dismissing his arguments. "I need to go to the Galactica." Billy nodded and left to arrange her trip.
Somehow, Lee didn't see his father agreeing to her proposal without a fight.
-The Battlestar Galactica-
Colonial Fleet
161 days after attempted assassination
"So, how does it feel to be back from your death-defying jaunt into the unknown?" Colonel Tigh asked his Commander as they made their way to Galactica's briefing room.
Adama snorted. "Well, it wasn't much of an adventure, and there really wasn't much death-defying going on. To tell you the truth, I was a bit disappointed."
"Oh?"
"Yeah." Adama grinned wolfishly. "I was rather looking forward to proving I'm not completely fossilized."
Tigh rolled his eyes, but declined to say more as they entered the briefing room, where Roslin and her aide Billy Keikeya were waiting for them.
"So, Madam President," Adama said without preamble, "what the hell do you want now?" She showed no reaction to his manner, but her aide winced.
"I want to move the fleet to our previous coordinates, so that we can be there to meet Lieutenant Thrace when she returns from Caprica."
"It's been almost six months. What makes you think she'll come back at all?" Adama asked bluntly.
She only shrugged.
"Besides," He continued as he walked over to the table, "I seem to recall that you yourself, a mere few months ago, told me that one person wasn't more important than the entire fleet."
"This isn't a case of just one person." She said earnestly. "This is for the good of the entire fleet. We must find the way to earth –what else are we supposed to do? Jump endlessly until our ships fall apart around us?"
"The Cylons followed us to Kobol. What makes you think they won't follow us any farther?"
"Because I have faith, Commander. I know this is something that is rather difficult for you to grasp, but I know we will find the way to our salvation. If you will only agree to having the fleet return to the previous coordinates so we can find out what that way is, that is!" She paused. "I can give you another order, Commander, if you'd prefer."
"And I could see to it the members of the Quorum of Twelve are informed of the reasoning behind your decision –I'm sure they'd appreciate learning that you're gambling our collective safety on your personal religious belief. For that matter, I wonder what your Vice President would have to say about it?" He replied.
She sighed. "It would probably affect my chances for reelection, but until I am replaced, the Quorum –and the Vice President- don't decide policy. I do. Therefore I am fully empowered to order you to comply in moving the fleet to our previous location."
The silence, after she finished speaking, was uncomfortable.
"I'll call you tomorrow, Commander. I'll expect to see that you have taken the necessary steps. Good day." She said, ending the discussion.
Adama and Colonel Tigh watched as she and her aide left the room.
"You're not really going to do this?" Tigh asked.
"I don't really have a choice." Adama pointed out. "I've already faced a mutiny that involved a substantial proportion of our personnel and tied up our defenses. And from what the reporters tell us, there seem to be a good proportion of the civilians who think Roslin's some kind of damned religious icon. If I put us against her again, I don't really want to think how this will all end." He paused, then found himself smiling.
"But think of it this way, old friend. We may just prove her wrong."
-The Battlestar Galactica-
Colonial Fleet
185 days after attempted assassination
After reluctantly obeying Roslin's orders and returning to their previous coordinates, Adama had put in place every additional precaution he could think of. However despite his earlier fears, roughly three utterly uneventful weeks had gone by.
Of course, Adama told himself as he considered their situation, that also meant that the Cylons hadn't shown up, and that he was about to prove the blasted woman wrong. He made himself put aside the deep pang he felt at the thought of Kara Thrace being lost. He had other things to think about.
"Commander!" Commander William Adama looked up as Petty Officer Dualla spoke. "Picking up an unknown on an approach vector, sir!"
"Identification?" He demanded. She began to smile, and put a message on the loudspeaker.
"…peat. This is Lieutenant Karl S. Agathon on the Icarus. I have seventy-two refugee civilians from Caprica on board…" Dualla was smiling widely as a cheer made its way around CIC. Smiling, Adama gestured to Dualla and waited as she connected him to the transport.
"…Request permission to join the fleet."
"This is Commander Adama on the Galactica. Request granted." He chuckled. "It sounds like you'll have quite a few stories to tell, Lieutenant."
"Yes sir." Came the reply. "And sir…"
"Yes lieutenant?"
There was a slight hesitation on the other end. "Have you heard from Starbuck, sir?"
She had come back.
The meaning of those words seemed to echo through Lee as he watched them carry her away from her raider.
Her pitted, scored, and blasted raider. He told himself. It had been yet another close call in a lifelong series of close calls. He shook his head, trying to shake away that thought. As he did, he noticed several of the deckhands staring at him. He cleared his throat.
"Carry on." He said, then realized he was now for all intents and purposes a civilian. "Um, I'm uh…sorry…" He mumbled self-consciously, before deciding he was better off quitting when he was already behind, and left for the Life Station.
When he had heard that she had returned he had called in every last favor he was owed and made sure he was there on the Galactica to greet her. He walked into the Life Station, and waited until he was allowed to see her. Once by her bedside however, he found that he didn't know what to say.
"Hey." She said softly, as she noticed him standing there.
He smiled. "Hey."
"So… What are you doing out of uniform anyway?" She asked. "I mean, the sight of Lee Adama not wearing his military colors happens to me –well, practically never."
He raised an eyebrow –falling back, as she had, on their usual safe patterns and ignoring what had happened between them in the hangar bay. "Oh, I beg to differ. You've seen me in the buff, as I recall. One of the hazards of military service, or so I hear."
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, that's not what I meant. What the hell is going on, Lee? Talk to me."
"It's a long story." He said, not quite sure how to explain it all. "And you haven't told me what happened to you."
"I asked first." She pointed out.
It was his turn to roll his eyes. "Right. Well, since you asked so very politely… I'm actually not supposed to be here since I'm going to be court-martialed out of the service. Well –assuming they ever decide to get to it anyway."
She was silent for a moment after that revelation. "Okay, I didn't expect that one. What the frak did you do to make them that unhappy with you anyway?"
He grimaced. "It's not just them, actually. I don't think anyone's all that happy with me right now, although President Roslin has at least kept me on as her advisor." He shrugged. "I figured it was probably because she's enough of a politician to have decided she can still make use of me."
Kara's eyebrows made a rather perilous journey up into her forehead. "The President? You managed to piss her off too? What the hell did you do, anyway?"
"I… Well, there was a mutiny, and since I had something to do with it and I had just gotten her released, I was able to prod her into apologizing for… Well uh… It's kind of complicated." He replied, not really wanting to elaborate on that just now.
She groaned. "Okay, fine, Mr. Complicated. Did I mention I brought back a whole pile of survivors, after getting them to build a ship from scratch? Oh, and we actually blew up some toasters while we were down there. Don't start thinking you're the only one who gets to have any fun." She said, as she shook her finger at him. He laughed.
"I really missed you, you know that?" He said more seriously, and watched as she froze.
"Why? Didn't you have enough aggravation in your life when I was gone?" Once spoken, she waved away any answer he might have made to her question. "Never mind."
He shrugged, and turned to walk away as he noticed that two marines were now standing in the doorway, waiting to escort him. He paused as he made a decision. After everything that had happened…
Frak the usual safe patterns.
He turned back to her and grasped her hand. "Just so you know, it wasn't the same here without you. Not for me." He paused. "I missed you every minute of every day." He said softly, before gently kissing her lips.
"And I always will."
To be continued in part 5 :-)