WHTMT - chapter 10

oooooooooooooooo

Things didn't go quite according to plan - the plan had been good, and they did achieve a fair amount of damage, but it was as if the cylons expected them to revolt and for every attack they had a counter attack ready. Nonetheless, they kept at it, chipping away at the enemy's forces bit by bit. All pretenses of friendship were gone and the humanoid cylons, few of them though there be, were now openly hostile.

"I told you not to antagonize her," Sharon reprimanded Doral, several weeks after the fighting had begun.

"And I told you she'd regret it," he answered forcefully, picking up a weapon and checking to see that it was loaded.

"You can't hurt her," she said, a note of panic in her voice.

"I won't," he said over his shoulder as he left the room. "Physically anyway," he murmured smiling evilly.

He found his way to Kara and Sam's tent, holding his gun out towards all who appeared to be standing in his way. He stopped short and peeked through the crack. Good, she was there. He watched as she dipped a cloth in a basin of water, wrung it out and laid it across Sam's forehead. His face was very red and his breathing terribly laboured. Doral, no expert on human physiology by any means, was still able to tell that it wasn't going to be long for him. That was too bad - his death wasn't going to shock her as much as he'd hoped it would.

He strode into the tent, shutting the flap behind him. Sam's eyes widened in surprise and fear - he'd seen plenty of this model during his raids on Caprica City. Kara turned quickly to see what he was looking at.

"You!" she exploded. "What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded, hands on her hips.

"Good choice of words Starbuck," he complimented, voice oily as always.

"I'm not Starbuck anymore."

"Doesn't matter really. How does that human phrase go? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet."

"You have time to be reading human poetry?" she asked sarcastically.

He shrugged. "It's what I do when I'm not committing genocide. Speaking of which ..."

Kara's heart began to pound with fear. "What do you want?" she asked, trepidation obvious in her voice. She held Sam's hand and he squeezed back tightly.

"I understand you're behind this little insurrection." He stepped forward a couple of paces and smiled. "And I intend to see you pay for that mistake." He drew his gun and raised it, aiming it directly at her chest.

Sam struggled to get up, coughing and choking as he yelled, "No!"

"Doral laughed and pointed the gun down at the ground. "I can't kill you Kara. You're special, remember? You have a destiny," he said carefully, mimicking Sharon's tone.

Kara's forehead screwed up in a confused expression. "Then why ..." she began.

"Because I like to torment you." He smiled, raised the gun, pointed it at Sam's chest and fired.

Kara's eyes widened in shock and she screamed as it suddenly sunk in. He'd killed Sam. She looked over at him; he was already dead. There was no way he couldn't be - there was a huge hole where his chest had been, and she could see the bloody bedclothes through it. Waves of nausea rolled through her, but she clutched him tightly, twining her fingers in his hair and kissing his forehead as the tears coursed down her cheeks like a waterfall. She whispered his name over and over as though repetition could bring him back somehow.

Doral watched her as he reholstered his gun and advanced towards her. "It's time to fulfill your destiny," he said matter-of-factly, the killing already forgotten.

Kara straightened up slowly to look at him levelly. Her cheeks were wet but she had a determined look in her eye. "I'm not going anywhere with you," she spat venomously, taking a step backwards.

"Oh, I think you are," he said softly, continuing to draw closer to her. "I'll drag you if I have to."

"The only way you'll take me is if I'm dead," she warned, muscles taut and ready to fight.

"Sorry, I can't do that," he said, shaking his head sorrowfully. "But no one ever said I couldn't hurt you." His hands closed over her throat suddenly, cutting off her air.

A shot rang out and the next thing she knew, she was lying on her back on the ground, the cylon's bloody body draped over hers. His fingers were still locked around her throat, and though it wasn't quite choking her, it was difficult to breathe. She scrambled to extricate herself and quickly stood up. Roslin stood there, gun in hand, still pointed in her direction. Her grey eyes were glazed over and she appeared not to notice when Kara carefully pulled the gun out of her hand. Then her head turned and she looked Kara full in the face.

"You looked like you needed help," she said quietly.

"I did," Kara said shakily. "Thanks."

oooooooooooooooooo

Lee felt a sudden sharp pain in his chest. His eyes opened to see Dee straddled across him, naked and glistening with sweat.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" she asked solicitously. She touched his gunshot wound gingerly.

Lee shrugged. "I guess. It still hurts sometimes." But he knew inside he was lying. It wasn't his wound that had hurt. He'd felt a sudden sharpness and loss of breath and in his head he'd seen a sudden vision of Kara, a look of fear and desperation on her face. He knew what the pain was - she was suffering, hurting, and the bond that had always bound them together, against their will sometimes, had connected them for a second so Lee was able to feel her pain. It didn't make any sense logically, but every other time she'd been in trouble or hurting, he'd been able to sense it.

Dee continued on, touching all of Lee's sensitive spots and bringing him back to readiness for her. He lay, passive as always, letting her take charge. For some reason he'd never felt the need to be in control when they made love. Maybe it was because he didn't feel the same animal passion for her that he'd felt for other women, namely Kara, his subconscious nudged him. Dee seemed to always want to be on top, or some other position that gave her power over him. Maybe she feels the need to dominate me - to prove that I'm hers, he thought suddenly. Then rational though deserted him as he felt himself drawn to the edge.

Later, as they lay together for a few brief moments before he had to get back to duty, he wondered why he and Dee were still together. It wasn't passion - that much he'd admitted to himself long ago. It wasn't friendship - they had little in common and rarely talked about much other than work. So why? Why be with someone you don't really care all that much about? Because it's better than being alone. And the thought that she isn't alone makes me feel like I need to be with someone. It can't be her ... so it may as well be Dee. He felt bad for using Dee like that, but he just couldn't help himself. Here it was, a year later and even after all that had happened between them he still couldn't stop thinking about her.

He got out of bed quickly and began to dress.

"What's the hurry?" Dee drawled, sitting up, holding the sheet across her chest.

"I've got work to do," he said shortly.

"You're not due back in CIC yet are you?" she asked.

"No, but I have a feeling."

"What kind of feeling?"

"Just a feeling that I need to be there. A feeling that something's terribly wrong."

Dee stood up and came to put her arms around him. Lee unwrapped them and walked away from her. "I have to go."

"What do you mean by a 'feeling'?" she asked.

Lee looked down into her eyes. "I can't explain it. I just have this gut feeling that we're in trouble and I need to go check it out. Okay?"

"Okay," she said, giving him a small smile. "I'll see you there shortly."

As Lee strode the familiar yet unfamiliar corridors, he berated himself for taking time for pleasure. He should be here working, making sure that everything that could be done was being done. They needed to get back to that planet to save those people. To save her, you mean, his subconscious said, needling him again. Why the heck couldn't his stupid subconscious leave him alone?

"Report," he said brusquely as he entered CIC.

"There's some strange activity on dradis sir," the officer said.

"Put me through to Galactica," he demanded.

"Galactica here," he heard moments later.

"This is Pegasus actual," he said, waiting to hear his father's voice.

"Seems they're here again." Adama was short with words, as usual.

"Yeah, I see them too," Lee said. "Now what?" The cylons had found them numerous times after that first jump, and despite their best-laid plans, they had had to continue running. Returning to the planet hadn't been an option at this point, and Lee was beginning to understand just how frustrated Kara had been after she'd promised Anders to return for him and months had gone by without her being able to keep that promise. Lee hadn't promised anyone he'd return other than himself, but so far almost four weeks had gone by and they still hadn't managed to evade the cylons. They'd dwindled in strength to three basestars; assumedly they'd left the other two in orbit around the planet, but two partially-manned battlestars, one over fifty years old, were no match for three basestars with hundreds of cylon raiders. They barely had enough pilots between the two ships to keep a CAP in the air, let alone have spare pilots to man enough vipers to wipe out the raiders.

"We follow the previous plan."

Lee huffed. "When are we going to stop running? We have to fight them eventually."

"You got a plan? I'm listening."

"Not yet. Give me a few minutes."

"In the meantime, jump to escape coordinates. We'll rendezvous there and rethink the plan. Galactica actual out."

Lee sighed as he gave the order to jump. Yet again they were running - further and further away. Would he ever be able to keep his promise to rescue Kara?

oooooooooooooooooo

They all stood around Sam's grave. For some unexplained reason, the cylons had left them completely alone as they'd removed his body, taken it out of the city to the graveyard and dug the hole. He'd been lowered in, Kara weeping silent tears all the while, and now Tyrol and Jackson threw their shovels to the ground and knelt with the rest.

Kara wiped her eyes and came forward, pressing a rough wooden cross at the foot of the grave. "Lords of Kobol, hear my prayer. Take the soul of your son Samuel and let him rest peacefully with you for the rest of his days." She sniffed as she removed the necklace from around her neck and placed it on the cross. It was her dogtag - the one she'd given him before leaving Caprica the first time. After his death, she'd taken it off him and put it around her own neck, trying to keep something of him close. She'd never had a wedding ring - they didn't have such luxuries here, nor did she have any other reminder of him, other than the baby growing in her belly. It was too small to be really noticeable yet though, and much too small for her to feel any movements. That would come in time, but in the meanwhile, she'd wanted something tangible of his to remember him by. She knelt down beside the cross and began to weep.

Most of the people who'd come to the funeral turned and left, knowing Kara needed to be alone with her grief. Roslin was the only one who stayed, far enough back for Kara to feel that she had privacy, but close enough for her to know that someone was there, and caring for her. She wasn't totally alone.

After her tears subsided, she stood up, wiped her eyes on the arm of her sweater and headed over to Roslin's side.

Laura put an arm around her shoulders to give her comfort and strength. "Now what do we do?" she asked softly.

Kara stared forward as she answered, face as if turned to stone. "We do what we always do. Keep fighting till we can't."

TBC