Here we are essentially amidst the events covered in "Scar," but earlier on than the episode proper. Chapter 3 picks up about a week after Chapter 2, likewise about a week into the mining operation. Lee is still in his cocoon of depression, and Adama is still trying to piece it all together.

Thanks for the continued reviews. RDM still owns everything.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Empty Chapter 3

Lee Adama scanned the sky for what must have been the hundredth time in the last twenty minutes. He and Hotdog were making long leisurely sweeps in their Viper Mk VIIs along the perimeter of Sector 259, directly above the mining ship Majahual. If there was an "above" in space, he supposed. The last week had proven more nerve-racking than they had hoped.

The mining was taking longer than expected due to conditions on the asteroid and problems with the equipment aboard the mining ship. If that wasn't enough, Cylon Raiders had been making random, but effective, hit-and-run attacks against both his Viper patrols and the civilian fleet that was holding station just outside the enormous field of rocks and gas. And to top off the list of worries, the DRADIS systems couldn't detect squat inside the field. Only Galactica had any real picture of the situation, and that was only because she was too big to move in amongst the rocks and ice. But, with Raiders popping in and out from behind the debris, all his patrols were all flying with only the "Mk 1 Eyeball" to guide them. Not the best way to detect chrome-colored raiders against the blackness of space….

He glanced over to his right. He could see Galactica from here, holding station close to the mining operation, the enormous bulk of the battlestar filling that part of the sky. Lee couldn't see Pegasus from his current position, but he knew that they were sitting on the spaceward side of the civilian fleet, guarding their exposed flanks.

He wanted to land this Viper. He hadn't been comfortable in a spacecraft since the ejection from the Blackbird, and he seemed to have lost whatever it was that made him enjoy flying. It felt more and more like a mere job to him, and a thankless one at that. He could tell that others were beginning to notice as well. He fended off questions about his well-being everyday. Fortunately, most of the pilots under his command could be pushed away with a stern look. As for his father and Kara…well, it was better that he stay busy and avoid them. They weren't so easy to fend off. His father was making it hard on him of late, too. He been asked…like my father ever "asks" anything…to join the elder Adama for dinner three times in the last week. It was getting harder to keep the conversation on work. Lee noted with some sadness that not long ago, he would have been ecstatic to have such a close relationship with his father. They'd managed to rebuild so much since they'd been forced back together a little over seven months ago. In the end, though, it had all been for nothing. His father had ordered Starbuck to assassinate Admiral Cain.

MY father ordered her….

When his own father was willing to get blood on his hands over something so---

STOP THINKING...STOP THINKING…STOP THINKING. Finish this frakking CAP and land.

Lee's train of thought was interrupted by the hum of his helmet's speaker and a glint of light in his peripheral vision. It was Hotdog, whose Viper was pulling up beside his own.

"Perimeter's clear, Skipper."

Lee welcomed the distraction. It was always better when he didn't have time to think…especially lately. "Good. A few more minutes and Kat's patrol will relieve us."

There was silence on the other end for a moment, "You alright, Apollo? You haven't said much since we launched."

Lee grew annoyed. Another round of questions? He'd already had this discussion with Hotdog, hadn't he?"We're circling a mining op, looking for Toasters. What's there to talk about? The weather? Mind your Viper, Hotdog. We do our jobs and then we land. Clear?"

Again, there was silence for moment, "Yes sir."

Inwardly, Lee flinched. He hadn't meant to come down so hard on Constanza. He was a good kid. He shook his head. Too late now, he'd already opened his big mouth. The speaker hummed to life again.

"Apollo, Kat. We're in position. Sector 258; vector three-one-niner. Over."

Finally.

"Kat, Apollo. Roger that. We're heading for the barn. Galactica, Apollo. Afternoon patrol on station, we're heading in." He waited for acknowledgement from the battlestar, and then signaled Hotdog, "Let's go home."

He and Hotdog finished the last leg of their patrol circle, and then turned toward the ship. Ten minutes later, both were touching down in the landing pod.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lee finished the post-landing check on his Viper and made it off the flight deck in record time. He wanted to return to his rack. Lately that had been the only safe place he could be when his overly concerned shipmates came looking. No one on a battlestar would disturb another when their privacy curtain was closed. It had been like that all over the fleet, no matter which battlestar you were stationed on.

When there had BEEN a fleet... Before we decided to spend the rest of our lives looking for some half-mythical planet…. Before the whole world had gone mad….

Lee made it to the bunkroom unnoticed. He glanced around the room. No one else was present. Good timing. He started to unzip his flight suit and gathered some of his paperwork off the bunk. He'd get in, close the curtain, turn on the lamp, and do his work until it was time to eat.

Perfect.

As he reached for the curtain, the PA buzzed.

"Attention: Pass the word to the CAG, Captain Adama, please report to Command Observation…."

Lee groaned. Not so perfect….

Lee entered CIC and climbed the ladder to the Command Observation Deck that overlooked the ship's nerve center. He found the place deserted, which was rare, but not unusual. His father was sitting alone at one of the far stations. He had paperwork spread across the console and was jotting something down in one of his several logbooks.

Working alone, like father like son…. Lee thought. Again he felt that pang of regret. Just another reminder that his father was just like him…just another reminder that his father had ordered---

Why couldn't he get past that? It's not like Cain was a saint. She was a psychotic bitch who deserved what she got. She robbed civilian ships of supplies and left them to die. Like a pirate. Like a CYLON…. Why did it matter? His dad had decided to stop her. And if that meant sinking to her level, then why wasn't that an acceptable choice?

Frak. He's staring at me again. STOP THINKING….

He stepped forward, and tried to smile. He wasn't sure what it came out looking like…he was sure it wasn't pretty. He steadied himself and spoke.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

If Adama thought anything about Lee's hesitation, he said nothing. Not surprising. He'd stopped trying to predict his father's reactions long ago. Instead Adama merely nodded and motioned for him to sit in the chair next to him. Lee tried not to hesitate this time and just sank slowly into the chair.

Adama removed his glasses and looked over at him, "How was the patrol?"

Lee blinked, not sure what his father was aiming at, "Um, quiet, for a change. No Cylons. No sign of that scarred raider. I'm hoping that's a good sign for today."

Adama nodded in approval, "Me too. You were a little rough on Hotdog weren't you?"

That blindsided him. Lee opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it. He couldn't really complain. The admiral was certainly within his rights to listen in on the CAP's transmissions, it wasn't like they were using a private channel.

"I, um…yeah, I was…I guess I'm just having a bad---"

"Please don't fence with me, son."

Lee stopped, whether because of his father's request, or because his father said "please," which was rare. He didn't know what to say. Fortunately, hid father kept talking.

"I know you've been acting differently. I know something's bothering…" he paused, leveling piercing stare at Lee, "…or maybe eating at you is a better way to say it. I'm not sure what it is and you won't tell me. Doesn't seem like you want to tell anyone else either, and that's your right. But you're my son, and I want to help you with whatever this is if I can."

Lee felt the urge to speak and run away at the same time. He wanted to talk to his dad…not his commanding officer, his dad. He wanted to scream at him for changing. For allowing himself to sink to the level of some mealy-mouthed conspirator, for letting Roslin's talent for political maneuvering and backstabbing (some of her few negative traits in his opinion) be translated into a method of solving friction in the chain of command. Certainly Cain was out of control, but something within the regs could have stopped her. Couldn't they?

He wanted to tell his father that the worst moment of his life had been when he was floating in open space, strapped to his ejection seat, and he realized that he was breaking his promise to protect Kara when she went to kill Cain. That he had left Kara behind the same way he had left…HER…behind on Caprica. He wanted to tell him just how sick he was of living in this monstrous tin can waiting for some Cylon machine to snuff his life out the way they'd snuffed out so many others. He wanted to scream out all those things.

He didn't know how. Explaining "how you feel" had never been a strong trait in the Adama family line. He didn't even know how his father might react to hearing it. Disappointment? Probably. Disapproval? Even more likely…. Maybe if he just blurted it all out---

The loudspeakers blared, "Galactica, Kat! Three raiders jumped us as we rounded asteroid one-two-zero…they're all over us out here! Duck's high engine has been hit, we need the cavalry!"

With a curse, Adama rose and raced down the ladder into CIC proper. Lee followed close behind. When Adama reached the situation table he barked, "Action stations! Set Condition One!"

As the alarms blared and Tigh relayed the Admiral's orders, Lee moved to Dee's station. "Launch the Alert Vipers."

"DRADIS contact!" Gaeta chimed in, "Looks like three Heavy Raiders…they're bearing in on the civilian fleet. Pegasus is moving to intercept."

Lee and his father shifted their gaze up to the DRADIS monitors simultaneously. Sure enough, Pegasus was charging up through the civvies like an enraged Piconese bull. Further down the screen, Galactica's Alert Vipers were racing down into the asteroid field to help Kat and Duck.

The loudspeakers came to life again, "Galactica, this is Kat. The raiders have broken off. It looks like they jumped when they spotted the Alert fighters."

Lee picked up a headset from the table, "Kat, CAG. What is Duck's condition?"

"He's…he's trailing vapor from the damaged engine. High engine looks completely burned out from here."

Adama leaned over, "Get them back here."

Lee nodded, "Kat, escort Duck back to base. Alert One, CAG. Sweep sector 258 through 260. Search and destroy raiders if possible. Keep them away from the mining ship no matter what, clear?"

"Roger, Galactica. Search and destroy," the pilot replied. Was that Riley? Lee couldn't tell through the static. He glanced over at his father, who was discussing the attack on the civvies with Tigh. It looked like Pegasus had driven them off. Just another Cylon hit-and-run…they were becoming more frequent.

"I'll head down and check on Duck," he said.

His dad looked at him, opening his mouth like he was going to speak, but only nodded. Lee took his chance to leave, silently cursing himself for being such a coward when it came to talking to his only remaining family.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Adama watched Lee walk out of CIC, and cursed under his breath. Frakking Cylons…he was ready to talk. I know it….

He was startled when Tigh spoke up from right next to him. He hadn't noticed Saul lean over.

"Close this time?"

Adama looked at him and sighed, "Close."

"Well, that's progress, I suppose," Tigh said quietly.

Adama shrugged, looking back at the now empty hatchway leading out, "Maybe."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Several hours later, Lee wearily stepped into the rec room and poured himself a drink. The debriefing with Kat and Duck had taken longer than he would have liked. From their reports, and from their gun camera footage, one of the raiders that jumped them seemed to be that scarred one they'd seen a few days earlier. Apparently, it was a better flyer than the average Toaster fighter. They'd have to keep an eye out for him.

A few pilots were scattered around, so he picked a table in the corner, facing the wall. Hopefully, he'd be able to finish his drink in peace and then go to his rack. He'd rather take it to the bunkroom, but Starbuck and Helo were playing cards in there, and they weren't at the top of his "want-to-see" list right now. Better to finish the drink here, then he could head straight to the rack and minimize the time spent fending off any unwanted questions when he entered the bunkroom.

He was almost done with the ambrosia when he felt, rather than saw, someone join him at the table. He glanced over his shoulder to see Hotdog nod quietly and sip at his own drink.

"Evening, Skipper."

Lee nodded to him, feeling more than a little awkward. He really should apologize to his wingman. The kid didn't deserve to have his head bitten off like that. He frowned at the tabletop for a minute, and then tried to look Constanza in the eye.

"Look, Hot--…Brendan, I'm sorry about this morning---"

Constanza waved him off with a smile, "Don't worry about it, Captain."

Lee frowned, "Well…I apologize anyway." He fell silent, unsure what else to say. Hotdog, wearing a large grin, produced a whole bottle of the ambrosia he was sipping from the glass.

"Drink with me, Skipper?"

Lee had to smile at that, "You know, until tonight I don't think I've ever seen you drink. When did this start?"

If possible, Hotdog's grin widened, "Flying with Starbuck will do that to a guy."

Lee had to laugh at that. He marveled to himself that he couldn't remember the last time he honestly felt like laughing at anything. Hotdog gestured with the bottle. Lee offered up his glass.

"So, Captain, when are you coming back to the card game?"

Lee took another shot of the greenish liquid. He was starting to feel a buzz already…this was strong stuff. Despite himself, he felt a little more relaxed. He glanced at the hopeful expression on Hotdog's face.

Maybe he would answer just a few questions….