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by repr0b8

Helo is forced to take drastic measures to protect his family after a series of events aboard Galactica open his eyes to the reality he and Sharon face. Set after A Measure of Salvation, it goes completely AU after that.

5. Chapter 5

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Author: JPBryant
Characters: Sharon/Helo
Rating: Mature, for descriptions of violence, language and sexual situations.
Spoilers: Through 'A Measure of Salvation", everything after that is AU.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Helo is forced to take drastic measures to protect his family after a series of events aboard Galactica open his eyes to the reality he and Sharon face. Set after "A Measure of Salvation", it goes completely AU after that.
A/N: The fifth of seventeen chapters to the story, I'll be posting them as I finish them. Thanks to wintergreen126, jazmin22, and honibrownhateza for beta'ing this story.

Chapter 5

"What about here?" Helo pointed at a small mountain range on the map in front of him.

"No," Anders said, shaking his head. The two men sat alone in the empty meeting room, leaning over the table as they studied the map. "You wanna be high, but not that high. It'll be too cold this time of year for anyone to do anything but eat, sleep and piss."

"It gets that cold?" Helo asked.

"You better believe it," Anders replied, arching an eyebrow.

"I see."

"But you'll definitely want your men above the fallout line if they're going to be staying any length of time." Anders looked up from the map to Helo. "How long did you say they would be staying?"

Helo kept his eyes down, surveying the possibilities. "A long time."

"I can't believe the Admiral is contemplating this," Anders said, still recovering from the news Helo had brought him. "But if the Cylons really left, I guess we have to go back don't we?"

"I'm was also thinking about this mountain range," Helo said, keeping the subject where he wanted it. He circled a spot on the map. "Here, outside of Delphi."

Anders shook his head again and took the pen from Helo's hand, then circled the metropolises of Caprica. "By the time you pulled us off the planet, there wasn't anywhere to hide within thirty clicks of any major city. If thee Cylons have left a presence anywhere, it'll be around here."

Helo stared down at the dwindling options, hand drawn circles and crosses covering the map, small notes written beside the sites they had ruled out.

"Is there any need to be that close in?" Anders asked.

"They'll need to be completely self-sufficient," Helo answered. "I'm thinking about supplies."

"How many men will be going?"

Helo thought about the answer, trying to find one that would match the rest of his story. He couldn't look Anders in the eye any longer, sure that the other would see through him.

"Between five and ten," he lied, hoping the figure would still allow Anders to analyze the situation correctly.

"You won't a need a big city to keep that many men supplied." Despite Helo's worries, Anders seemed oblivious to any chance that he might be lying to him, a benefit of having never done so before. "I know you and Sharon were on the move most of the time you were down there, but trust me, a mid-size town will have more than enough supplies to keep a group that small going for a long time."

Helo stared down at the map, trying to find a place that might meet all the criteria. Anders did the same, and after a few moments of thoughts he leaned over and circled three more points.

"These are your best bets," Anders said. "They'll be above the two-thousand meter level, so radiation won't be a problem, but low enough where the Caprican winters won't kill whoever you send. They'll have access to a decent amount of supplies, and unless they do an all out search, my guess is that the Cylons will never find them."

Helo looked at the three spots, committing each one to memory. He would let Sharon pick from them tonight. "Thanks Sam," he said as he rolled up the map.

"So, Karl, who's going?" Anders asked as Helo stood up from the table. "I mean, who's crazy enough to volunteer for this?"

"I can't say, Sam," Helo answered, still avoiding the other man's eyes. He picked his pen up off the table and slipped it into his pocket. "Sam, you realize of course, that nobody can know about this."

"No problem, man. I understand." Anders stood up from his chair and rested his hands on his hips. "Just let me know if need any more info."

Nodding, Helo stepped towards the exit.

"Hey, Karl, wait," Anders called after him. He waited for Helo to turn around before continuing. "You still owe me a drink, man."

"What?"

"You owe me a drink," Anders repeated. "Or have we reached the statute of limitations on our bet?"

Helo paused as he tried to figure out what Sam was talking about, and an instant later the memory of a long forgotten wager came to his mind. He let out a small chuckle as he recalled the night of drinking on Caprica that had spawned the competition, and now that Sam and Kara were married, there was no doubt he had lost.

"I do, don't I?" he said, smiling at the memory.

"You do," Anders confirmed.

Helo looked back at the other man, trying to remember the details of his face. After all the two men had experienced together, after all the times their lives had intersected, it was possible this was the last time he would ever see Sam Anders.

"Will you take a rain check?" Helo asked.

Anders crossed his arms over his chest and laughed. "I've waited this long, haven't I?"

Helo smiled back then turned to the exit. "Take care, Sam."

-----

Her breath whistled between her teeth as she took another delicate step, wincing in pain from the shift in weight.

"Take it easy, Sharon," Helo said, holding her arm steady as they made another lap around the residential area of the ship. She didn't reply, ignoring him and taking another step, then another.

It had been two weeks since the day of the attack, and everyday she had pushed herself harder and harder. Too hard in his opinion, but his opinion didn't carry much weight when it came to this.

"I talked to Anders," he said as they moved slowly down the hall. "He thinks we need to stay away from the cities."

Sharon nodded, her lips forming a tight line as she took another step. She stopped for a moment to let out a few controlled breaths, and then started again.

"I've done the calculations," she said, going silent until a crewman walking the other direction passed by them. "We're too far away, just like I thought."

"Are you sure?" he asked. A sideways glance from Sharon was the only answer he got; of course she was sure. She could calculate FTL jumps faster in her mind than a Raptor could, and with more precision as well. "This is going to make things harder," he said, as much to himself as Sharon.

"We don't have a choice," she said between steps. "We'll need one of the long range Raptors.

Helo shook his head as thought about the added problem. The long range Raptors were kept flying nearly twenty-four hours a day, people would notice the absence. "It's going to be hard to pull one off the line," he said

"We don't have a choice," she repeated, making no effort to hide her frustration with him.

"What about Kobol?" he asked. The alternative had come up once before, but Sharon had brushed it aside without serious discussion. "It's closer, and we wont have to-"

"No," she said sharply, surprising him with her vehemence. A bead of sweat that had been collecting on her forehead slid down her cheek. "My child won't be born on that planet."

He closed his eyes as they took another step, trying not to let her words or tone affect him. It was his child too, but when she was angry she forgot such things.

"Okay, Sharon," he said calmly, taking the last turn to their quarters. "That's enough for today, you need to rest."

"One more lap," she replied, straining against the pain. Her eyes stayed fixed on a point at the end of the corridor, ignoring the door to their quarters.

"Sharon-"

"One more lap," she insisted, leaving no room for argument as she pressed on.

"Okay."

He watched as each step she took brought a small wince or grunt of pain, but he knew such minor thing as pain and illness wouldn't stop her. She had a new purpose, a new goal, and nothing would keep her from it. Leaving had become her sole objective, and they couldn't leave until she could walk and move without problem. So everyday she walked, despite the pain from the motion, and despite her sickness from the pregnancy. Everyday she walked to the point of collapse, and everyday she grew angrier that they were still here.

She did her best to keep it under the surface, flashes of her grief and anger only appearing at the edges. But when she failed to contain it, he inevitably bore the brunt of the emotions. He knew she couldn't help it, that she didn't know how to express the pain the consumed her. He only hoped that the days of seeing her smile would return when they reached their new home.

"I've gotten the rations," he said, still holding her elbow for support as they continued their circuit. "A few months worth at least."

"What about medicine?" she asked, more sweat gathering on her brow.

"It's too soon," he replied. "People will notice it missing."

"It's not too soon," she shot back testily.

"Sharon, listen," he said calmly. "We can't go until you're better. Until then, we don't want to give them any reason to suspect anything, okay?"

Sharon bit her lower lip hard, her eyes squeezing shut in pain from the most recent step she had taken. She wobbled slightly, and Helo moved closer to keep her upright. Gathering herself, she opened her eyes and looked at Helo.

"Do they need a reason, Helo?" she asked between clenched teeth. "Do they need a reason to do anything to us? All it would take is Cottle telling the president about this baby for them to throw me back in that cage."

More beads of sweat rolled down her face, the dark circles under her eyes standing out ghoulishly against her olive skin. Helo looked down the corridor to see they still had more than half way to go.

"Let's go back." he said.

"No, I want to finish this lap," she moved to take another step, but he caught her arm tightly before she could move away.

"Sharon," he said softly. "You need to go back."

"Let go of me," she said angrily, ripping her arm away from him.

Grabbing her arms again, he stepped directly into her path. He held her there tightly, waiting gently for her eyes to meet his. When they did, he saw the rage boiling behind her brown eyes, looking for a target. He let the anger slide through him, understanding her need.

"It's me, Sharon," he said quietly, hoping the words still meant something.

She blinked once as he spoke, then closed her eyes as she lowered her head. With a deep breath, she leaned against him, letting him support her weight. She placed her arms around him in silent apology, her forehead resting against his chest.

"Let's go back," she agreed.

"Just rest here a minute," he whispered. "I won't let go."

------

Walking through the infirmary a week later, the sound of Helo's footsteps were deadened by the clear plastic sheets that ran from the ceiling to the floor, dividing the large space into dozens of tiny cubicles. Walking across the room, Helo saw one man reading a worn novel by the light of a small lamp, but most of the patients slept quietly in the dim room. He spotted a sole nurse walking from bed to bed, tending to them at the late hour, and made his way towards her.

As he approached her, he searched for signs of Cottle and found none.

"Excuse me," he said quietly, stealing her attention from the chart she was reading. "Is Doctor Cottle here?"

"I'm afraid not, sir" she replied, glancing down at the duffle he carried. "Can I help you with-"

"That's fine, thanks." He gestured to the chart. "Don't let me keep you."

She nodded as he stepped away, her eyes following him for only a second before she returned to her task. He looked around, trying to orient himself through the maze of plastic walls, turning in a full circle before he found what he was looking for. Following the wall, he looked back once more to search for the absent doctor, then punched in the code to the supply room and opened the door.

Racks upon racks of medicine lined the walls of the small room, vials of every color and size crammed tightly together, each labeled in microscopic black text. Setting his duffle down on the metal table that sat in the middle of the room, he stared at the obstacle that faced him.

Taking a glance at the first shelf, he quickly discovered that if there was a system of organization, he had no idea what it was. He couldn't pronounce half of the names on the vials, never mind know what the contents were used for. Glancing quickly at his watch, he began to search.

Antibiotics, Adrenaline, Morphine, Cortisone, Anti-Radiation...

His training was in emergency medicine, battlefield survival, not day to day living. Sharon's knowledge was limited to the same. As he passed over the vials he couldn't recognize, he wondered if any of them were the ones he really needed.

It took him five minutes before he found the Atropine, and another five before he found the anti-radiation meds. Looking down at his wrist to check the time, he froze as he heard a sound on the other side of the hatch, followed by the sound of the magnetic locks releasing.

The door cracked open and Cottle stepped through, his eyes landing on Helo, then down to the bag on the table.

"Can I help you, Captain?" Cottle asked.

Helo looked back to the shelves quickly. "I'm restocking the Raptors med kits. I couldn't find you so I thought I'd do it myself."

"I see," Cottle replied, shutting the door closed. He took a step towards the table, and reached in to pull out a box. "Anti-radiation medicine?"

"Yeah," Helo replied, still searching through the medicine though he was too nervous to read the labels.

"Lots of anti-radiation medication," Cottle continued, pulling out the handful of boxes Helo had placed in the duffle. "I can't imagine why anyone would need so much."

Helo didn't reply, his mind racing to find a plausible explanation. Before he could, the doctor found it himself.

"Going for a trip, Captain?" Cottle asked.

Holding his breath, Helo turned to face the other man. Cottle was still looking in the duffle, holding up a syringe of Atropine and examining it casually.

"Don't tell me," Cottle said, shaking his head. "I don't want to know."

Helo exhaled slowly as he watched the doctor set down the syringe and turn away, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his white lab coat. "Okay," Helo replied as he moved to the table and started returning the removed medicine back into the duffle.

"The last one nearly killed her, son," Cottle said quietly, the words stopping Helo completely. "If she hadn't been here, aboard this ship, she would have died."

Helo closed his eyes, setting down the box of medicine he had just picked up. "You think I don't know that?" he said.

"I think you're about to do something very stupid," Cottle replied without malice. "Twice we needed to intervene to save her life and the life your child. If you take her away from here-"

"And what if I don't?" Helo cut him off. "Will you protect our child? Will you let the president try to kill this one too? Will you stop them from taking our child away from us?"

Cottle averted his eyes, staring at the ground as Helo spoke. When Helo finished, the doctor looked up. "This child could kill your wife."

Helo stuffed the last box of radiation meds into the bag, swallowing hard as he thought about the possibility. "She knows that. I know that." He looked back up at Cottle, the palms of his hands resting flat on the table. "And I don't know what I'll do if she dies, or if the child dies. I don't. But if we stay here, if we stay on Galactica, I know I'll lose them both."

"There has to be another way, son," Cottle urged.

"Tell me," Helo pleaded, wishing what the man said was true. "Tell me, please, because I want to know."

Cottle stared down at the floor and shook his head. Turning back to the shelves of medicine, Helo resumed his search. Staring at the racks again, he tried to remember where he had been interrupted. Dropping to a knee, he ducked down to look through the vials on the lowest shelf.

"Here", Cottle said, nudging his shoulder. "You'll need these."

Helo looked up to see a pair of small vials in the mans hands. Reaching up, he took them, then looked back to the doctor for an explanation.

"Coagulants. Gods forbid you need them." Cottle knelt down beside Helo and pulled another vial from the shelf. "But if she's bleeding, and you can't stop it, this is your last resort. Understand?"

Helo nodded soberly. "Yeah."

Cottle held up the vial he had just grabbed from the shelf, and looked at Helo. "Morphine."

-----

Opening the hatch to their quarters, Helo entered to find Sharon already asleep. He took the duffle of medicine over to his locker and placed it inside, careful to avoid making any noise that might wake her. The locker was mostly empty now, everything but the absolute essentials removed the day before. Pulling off his jacket, he hung it up inside, then shut the locker.

He turned back to the bed and took a seat beside his wife, watching her sleep. Though her morning sickness took its toll every day, the baby had yet to begin to show. Helo wondered how long that would be the case, trying to remember when her first pregnancy had become visibly obvious. Not that it mattered to their plans or preparations. Their time on Galactica was measured in days now, not weeks.

A strand of hair fell across her face, and he brushed it gently from her forehead. She slept peacefully, a reflection of the confidence and focus that had been growing inside her as the day approached. And when he was with her, when they spoke of their plans and made their decisions, he shared it with her. But it was moments like this, moments he had to himself, where he found his doubt creeping in; regret that their lives had come to this point. He would never let her see it, he wasn't sure he could even feel it when he was around her, but he couldn't deny its existence. Everything he needed he was taking with him, but there was still so much he was leaving behind.

He stood up from the bed and pulled his jacket back out of the locker. Sleep wouldn't be coming to him tonight, and he wasn't going to waste another night trying. Putting his arms through the sleeves, he stepped towards the door, and quietly let himself out of the room.

Wandering down the hallway, he headed nowhere in particular; content to let his feet take him where they would. Making his way through the ship, it seemed every causeway and corridor summoned a memory; some pleasant, some painful.

There were memories of his first tour on Galactica, and how grateful he had been for the chance to fly even if it was aboard the aging relic. Memories of keeping Kara out of trouble, and memories of helping her find it . There were memories of the first Sharon, and how he had ached for her, watching from a distance as he let his chance slip away. Everywhere he looked, he saw a piece of his life that he would never see again.

As he walked through the ship, he came to find himself standing outside the officers' lounge. A raucous laugh echoed from inside, followed by a litany of profanities. He peeked around the corner to see the usual suspects huddled around the tables, all there for the company of their fellow officers and the drinks they shared.

"Karl," Kara shouted out to him, with several other sets of eyes turning to follow hers. "Get in here!"

Helo gave a small smile and shook his head as he stepped in. "No time, Starbuck."

"How's Sharon, Captain?" Hot Dog asked, pulling out a chair for Helo. "It's not the same without her flying out there."

"Any luck finding the bastard?" Racetrack added.

"No," Helo replied, shaking his head. He rested his hands on the back of the chair, but didn't take a seat. "She's doing better, Constanza. I'll tell her you asked."

"Well you better tell her we all asked," Racetrack insisted, holding up a glass for Helo. He took it from her, but didn't take a drink. "Why don't you bring her down here? It's not that late yet."

Kara pointed at the chair Hot Dog had pulled out for Helo. "Sit," she commanded.

Hesitating for a moment, Helo relented and took a seat. Looking down into the clear liquor, he realized he hadn't had a drink in nearly a month. Lifting it to his lips, he savored the foul tasting alcohol, letting it burn as it slid down his throat.

"She's asleep," he replied finally, setting the glass back down on the table. "But I'm sure she'd be pleased to know she's missed."

Kara began to deal out the cards as another round started, and dealt Helo a hand.

"I don't have any money," Helo said. "I'll just watch."

"No way, Karl," Kara replied, shaking her head and tossing him a few cubits. "It's been too long since you've given me the chance to beat you at anything. What happened to the good times when I got to do it a couple times a day?"

Helo laughed, collecting the coins she had thrown his way. It was ironic that despite the war, the tiny pieces of metal still held value. "Kara," Helo said, examining the cubit.

"Yeah?"

"We left a fortune on Caprica when we left," Helo said. "Why didn't you tell me that money was still worth something?"

"It's not about the money," Kara replied. "It's about winning it. You know that, Karl."

"Yeah, I do." With a smile, Helo took another drink from his glass and looked down at his cards. They were crap, but he played them anyways, knowing this would be his last chance to do so.

Sitting with his fellow officers, he soaked up the company. The conversation was, as always, lewd and juvenile, but he would miss it. He watched as the cubits changed hands, moving back and forth along with the insults and laughs. For a moment, he even considering going to get Sharon and bringing her back, letting her share in this. Looking down at his watch though, he saw that it had been several hours since he left her.

"Frak," he said, setting down his glass.

"Past your curfew, Karl?" Kara teased.

"Yeah, it is," he replied, playing along. "Deal me in for one more, then I've gotta go."

Kara collected the triad cards from the rest of the officers and began to shuffle.

"So, Karl," Kara began. "What's the deal with your wife, huh? Too good to associate with us humans any more?"

Helo watched Kara as she spoke, and knew she meant no ill-will by her words; this was as close as she got to expressing concern. And it was certainly the closest she had ever gotten to showing any concern for Sharon. Even though the two had become friends again, Kara would never admit to it.

"It's not that," Helo replied. He knew that nothing he said would matter in a few days, but still he felt the need to explain. "What happened, you know it...it just took a lot out of her."

"Is she afraid?" Kara pressed.

"No," Helo answered quickly. He looked across the table at his friend. "She's like you that way, Starbuck."

"Well if she is, she can always come here," Racetrack said. "Nobody's dumb enough to try anything like that down here."

"Yeah," Hot Dog agreed. "Last week we played to see who would get to space the guy who did it. Now Kara just has to wait for them the catch the frakker."

"Kara?" Helo repeated, surprised. She shrugged casually.

"I'm good at cards, I won," she said.

"You cheated to win," Racetrack corrected.

"So what?" Kara retorted, making no effort to deny Racetracks claim. "Maybe I just want the chance to send someone out the airlock."

Listening to his friends talk, he knew it wasn't for his benefit that they spoke. There was a genuine affection for Sharon, even if it manifested itself in the most bizarre of ways. To the people sitting around him, she had become part of their family, even if it was a family built on circumstance, she had become welcomed in it.

But none of them could protect her or their child from the dangers they faced.

"Thanks, guys," Helo said quietly, standing up from the table.

"Leaving?" Racetrack asked, looking at his cards laying face down on the table.

"Yeah, I gotta go," he replied, resting a hand on her shoulder. "But thanks, guys. I appreciate the drinks. I appreciate everything."

"Bring her down here next time, okay, Captain?" Hot Dog said.

Helo nodded, taking a glance at the faces of the men and women around him. "Will do, Constanza."

"Take care, Karl," Kara said, staring down at her cards.

Walking around to the other end of the table, he rested his hands on her shoulders. There wasn't enough privacy to say the things he wanted say. He doubted she would want to hear them even if there was.

"Take care, Kara," he said, squeezing her shoulders once, then lightly kissing the top of her head. Her eyes looked up at him in confusion, but he was already headed towards the door.

-----

"Sharon?" he called out as he stepped into the observation room, his eyes adjusting to the darkness.

"I'm here," she replied quietly, her voice reaching him from the far corner of the empty room. She sat alone in the darkness, taking the chair furthest from the entrance. He looked out the large viewing window in front of him for just a moment, then made his way over to her. She stared ahead into the blackness, lost in thought as he sat down in the seat beside her.

"Are you okay?" he asked. When he had returned from the officers' lounge, he had found their bed empty, with a note left in her place telling him where to find her. "Is something wrong?"

"No," she replied, still gazing forward. Her arms crossed over her stomach, hugging herself lightly. "I'm okay."

He watched her expression, looking to see if she hid something from him, but found nothing but quiet contemplation. She turned to face him, the lights from the passing ships reflecting in her dark eyes.

"I'm saying goodbye," she said, looking back to the window. "This is our home, Helo. We're running from our home."

Her words surprised him, unaware that she might feel a share of the regret that he did. But Helo shook his head, knowing that the feelings did not change the facts. "This isn't our home, Sharon. I wish it was."

"You won't miss it?" she asked softly.

He already missed it, it didn't need to be said. "Will you?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered, nodding slowly, still staring into the stars. "I will."

He turned back to the window as he thought about her answer, watching as a cargo ship passed out of sight above them, on its way to deliver its contents to the rest of the fleet.

Of course she would miss it, he thought. It had been her home and prison for most of her short life, the borrowed memories of the first Sharon's time aboard making it that much more so. She had sacrificed so much to try and belong here with him, to make this their home. And now she would abandon it, just as he would, leaving behind almost everything she had worked so hard for.

"It used to be everything to me," he said. "But I've found something more important."

"I don't want you to do this for me," she said, shaking her head. "I don't want you to become me."

He sat forward in his chair, moving into her field of vision so that she had to see him. "I'm not doing this for you, Sharon. I'm doing this for us." When she looked over at him, he reached out to take her hand. Her fingers opened, accepting his touch and returning it. "I'm doing this for you, and me, and our child."

"And what kind of life will our daughter have?" she asked quietly, her eyes meeting his.

There was no doubt in her voice, or any sign that she felt they were making a mistake. It was only regret he heard, regret that the life she wanted for their child would never be. But his mind hung on a single word.

"A girl," he said, unable to hold back a small smile. He didn't know how she knew, and he didn't care. He was going to have another girl. "It's a girl."

"Yes," she said, unable to keep a smile from her own lips. She pulled him closer and leaned against him as she looked back out to the stars. "It's a girl, Helo."

He stared out the window, holding Sharon in his arms, and the last doubt in his mind slipped away. His goodbyes had been said, silently and privately. He had served his people to the best of his ability.

Now it was time to leave.

-----

The CIC hummed with life, with every person in the room occupied now that the day had moved into full swing. Helo stared up at the DRADIS, his eyes following the patrol that had just been launched.

"I hear Cottle has cleared Sharon to fly," Adama said from the across the console.

"Yes, sir," Helo replied. "She was back on the deck yesterday."

Adama signed-off on some paperwork as he continued to speak. "I'm glad to hear it, Captain. I'm looking forward to having her back out there."

Helo nodded, keeping his eyes on the DRADIS. "She's looking forward to it as well, sir."

Focused on the monitor above him, he watched a dozen ships scramble away from Galactica as the CAP spread out to and begin their first sweep. But one dot of light held his attention, floating without purpose away from the ship.

"Colonel," Gaeta called from his station. "Racetrack is reporting that Raptor 451 is experiencing a navigation problem. Her nav system has crashed."

"Tell Racetrack to bring the bird in," Tigh replied. "And have the chief look at it when she does. Isn't his job to make sure this kinda of crap doesn't happen?"

Adama's eyes followed the DRADIS for a few seconds as Raptor 451 turned and returned to Galactica. But Helo was done watching the DRADIS, and his attention was now on the people around him.

"Excuse me, Captain," Dee said from where she stood one tier above them. "Lieutenant Agathon would like to speak with you. Shall I put her through?"

"Yes, thank you," Helo replied. A light flashed on the receiver in front of him, and lifted it to his ear. "Hello?"

As Sharon spoke, he leaned against the console.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "No, don't, I'll be right there."

Helo hung up the receiver and saw Adama watching him, a slight look of worry on his features.

"Is everything all right, Captain?" the admiral asked.

"No, sir," Helo answered, straightening up and facing the admiral. "Sir, I need to request permission-"

"Admiral, I have the president on a secure channel," Dee said, cutting Helo off.

The admiral picked up the handset in front of him, turning his back to the console. He spoke quietly, but Helo didn't care about the conversation. Waiting nervously, it became clear that the admiral was in no rush to finish the call. Helo turned to Colonel Tigh.

"Colonel, request permission to be dismissed," he said. "My wife is having some-"

"Denied," Tigh responded without a glance.

Helo looked back to the admiral, and in the background he heard Raptor 451 requesting permission to land.

"Colonel, sir," Helo persisted. "My wife-"

"Your wife should know better than to call the CIC when you're on duty."

Now that Helo had relinquished the title of XO, Tigh lorded it over him. But Helo was too preoccupied to care.

"Colonel, sir," Helo started again, his voice even and calm. "I can wait for the admiral to finish, or you can let-"

"Leave!" Tigh barked, finally looking at Helo. "I'm tired of your face, Agathon."

Helo squared his shoulders and saluted the colonel. Turning sharply, he walked out of the CIC. Jogging down the corridor, he headed towards their quarters. He avoided looking at the faces of the people he passed, focusing completely on the task at hand.

Opening the door to their room, he found it as vacant as it had been when he left. The lockers were empty, and the shelves were bare. Walking to the bed, he grabbed his flight bag, and threw it over his shoulder. Turning back to the door, he reached for his dog tags and slid them up over his head, placing them next to Sharon's on the nightstand.

Stepping out of the room, a resounding thud echoed down the hall as he pulled the door shut and made his way towards the deck. Someone greeted him as he walked by, but he didn't stop or turn to see who it was. Before he reached the deck, he turned off the main corridor, and headed for the flight control center.

"Put Raptor 451 back on the board," he said, taking a single step into the room. The FCO looked at him quizzically. "She'll be back in the air in ten minutes," Helo added, shutting the door before any questions could be asked.

Stepping onto the deck, it took him only a moment to find the Raptor, still venting steam as its engines cooled. He made his way over to it, grabbing the attention of a deckhand on the way.

"Specialist," he called out. The man turned, coming over immediately when he saw the rank on Helo's collar. "I need some assistance." Helo said.

"Yes, sir," the specialist replied.

Helo pointed at the Raptor, then across the deck to a stack of silver supply crates. "I need those in this bird in one minute. Got it?"

"Yes, sir, I'm on it."

He watched the deck hand head for the crates, then hopped onto the wing of the Raptor and stepped inside. Dropping his bag, he took a seat in the pilot's chair and powered up the controls. He heard the deckhand load the first crate into the ship as he cleared Sharon's program from the nav system, and watched it fire to life. Checking the fuel levels he saw that the long-range bird had all the fuel they would need.

As the deck hand continued loading the supplies, Helo pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. He read the numbers from the slip carefully, double checking each digit as he punched in the jump Sharon had calculated this morning.

"That's it," the specialist said as he finished loading the last crate.

"Thank you," he replied without looking back. Entering the last few data points into the Raptors nav system, he let the computer verify the information, and after a few moments the monitor flashed its confirmation.

A clock on one of the screens told him he was five minutes ahead of schedule.

He stood up and walked to the back of the Raptor, looking at the silver cases that contained everything they might need to start their lives over. It wasn't enough to keep them alive for more than a few months, but that's more than they would need if Caprica was still the planet they had left behind. Stepping out onto the wing, he looked all around him and knew that in less than five minutes it would all be part of his past, just another memory. The thought no longer tormented him though; he had made peace with his decisions.

He scanned the deck as he waited for Sharon, hoping she might be ahead of schedule as well. But it wasn't his wife that approached the Raptor now.

"Gods damned piece of crap," the chief said as he walked over, his eyes looking disdainfully at the Raptor, then back to Helo. "Fifth time this month this junker has flaked out on me, and each time it does, Tigh calls to make my life hell."

"Hey chief," Helo replied, unsure how to deal with Tyrol's unexpected appearance. "Don't worry about it chief, I checked her out and she's good to go."

He looked back at the Raptor, hoping the chief would simply leave. But his words didn't seem to comfort Tyrol.

"You put this back on the board, Captain?" the chief asked awkwardly, his gaze turning to the floor.

"Yeah I did."

The chief scratched his head. "You know, uh, that's not really your call, Captain," he said, obviously upset with the break in protocol. Without looking back to Helo, the chief stepped onto the wing.

"I found the problem," Helo said quickly, following Tyrol as he stepped up onto the wing.. He scanned the deck quickly, still seeing no sign of Sharon. "Just a small glitch in the nav system," he said.

The chief shook his head as he ducked into the interior of the Raptor. "It's the small ones that kill people, sir," he said, turning back to face Helo. "The big ones keep the birds here on the deck."

"Yeah," Helo agreed, following him inside. "But it's taken care of now, chief. You don't have to worry about it."

"I'm sure it is, sir, but I'm gonna have to take this bird off the line for a full diagnostic. Tigh would have my ass if we lost one of these birds to a glitch. The admiral would probably tear out a chunk himself, know what I mean?" The chief turned to face the ECO station, nearly tripping over the supplies in the process. He stared down at the crates, then back to Helo. "What's this stuff?"

"It's nothing," Helo replied, regretting the answer the moment it lift his mouth.

Tyrol looked up at Helo, then down at the crates. He stared at them for a moment. "You mind if I look at nothing?" he asked.

Helo shrugged casually, trying to recover, praying that the chief would open a box of food or clothing. He watched as the chief unsnapped the clasps on one of the crates, then lifted the lid and stared down onto an assortment of winter clothes. Staring down at the clothing, Tyrol paused, and then leaned over again to search through the box. Helo reached out to pull back Tyrol's arm, but was too slow to prevent him from pushing aside the top layer of clothing.

The chief's eyes went wide as they landed on a rifle Helo had buried beneath.

"What the frak?" he exclaimed, looking back at Helo in disbelief.

Helo's mind filled with a dozen excuses, but he knew the chief would see through them. Abandoning them all, Helo looked squarely at Tyrol, hoping a different approach might serve him better.

"Listen to me, chief," he said quietly. "I don't have time to explain this, but you know who I am, and I need you to trust me."

The chief shook his head, pushing aside the rifle to find radios, ammo, and more stolen gear. Helo knew it looked as bad as it was. Looking up from the crate, Tyrol studied Helo a moment, the muscles in his face tightening a moment later.

"Trust you?" Tyrol replied angrily, shutting the case and walking out of the Raptor. "I don't know who you think I am, Captain. And I don't know what you think you're doing, but I'm calling the colonel, right now."

"Chief, wait," Helo said, pulling his bag off the floor and following Tyrol onto the wing. Grabbing the chief's shoulder, he spun the man around, terrified of what he was about to do. "Chief, listen to me."

The chief's expression moved between confusion and anger, but Helo had time for neither.

"Can we talk?" Helo asked as Tyrol looked away. "Look at me chief. I need to talk you, in private, okay?"

Shutting his eyes, the chief shook his head. Helo was sure the man would walk away again and prepared to act, taking a step closer. But the chief's answer stopped him.

"Fine," Tyrol said.

Helo glanced around the deck and found what he was looking for, then motioned for Tyrol to follow him. When they reached their destination, Helo pulled open the door to the supply room and gestured for the chief to enter. Following Tyrol in, Helo saw Sharon look up from the hardware she was reprogramming. Dressed in her flight suit for the first time since the attack, her eyes flew to Tyrol, then to Helo, and in a heartbeat she heard his unspoken words.

"Sharon?" the chief asked.

Helo pulled the door shut behind them, as Sharon stood and lifted her sidearm from its holster then leveled it at the chief.

"What the..." Tyrol didn't finish the question, as Helo pressed the sidearm he had pulled from his bag into the small of the chief's back.

"It's okay chief. It's okay, just stay calm," Helo said quietly, gently pushing the other man towards the corner of the room. When they got half way, he stopped and gave the chief a small shove. "Just stay there, okay chief?"

Tyrol turned to look at them as he walked backwards into the corner, his expression blank as he tried to figure out what was going on. Putting her weapon away, Sharon turned back to her task as Helo watched guard over their unwanted prisoner.

"I had no choice," he said calmly.

"Three more minutes," she replied without looking up from her work on the replacement nav module, seemingly unconcerned with this unexpected development.

Tyrol's eyes moved back and forth between them as he paced in a small circle. "What are you two doing?" he asked, his agitation growing as he answered his own question. "Stealing a ship?"

Helo lowered his sidearm, uncomfortable aiming the weapon at Tyrol. He watched as Sharon reprogrammed the navigation module, the piece of hardware stolen from another Raptor only hours before. They had worried that its removal would be noticed before they could leave, but it was the chief's sudden appearance that he worried about now. He doubted they had the three minutes Sharon needed.

"Sharon," he said.

"I know," she replied, her eyes never leaving her task, her hands flying over the keyboard.

Looking back to Tyrol, Helo could see the entire spectrum of emotions crossing the other man's face. The chief scowled, and then smiled, shaking his head as he came to his own conclusions.

"So we finally see the real Sharon, huh?" Tyrol said, laughing to himself. He looked over at Helo. "And you're what? Loyal husband?"

"Be quiet, chief," Helo replied.

"I don't take orders from traitors," Tyrol spat back.

Helo ignored him, still unsure what to do with the man. But his silence only further infuriated Tyrol.

"What did the Cylons offer you?" the chief asked, slamming his fist into a shelf. "Well? What was it you frakking traitor? Tell me!"

Helo could feel his own emotions rising as Tyrol railed against him. But he pushed them from his mind, trying to find a solution to the problem.

"What are we going to do about him?" Helo asked, looking down at Sharon.

Sharon glanced up from her work and looked over at the chief. She stared at him for a long moment, then shook her head and went back to her task. "I'll take care of it. Get the Raptor ready, Helo."

Helo stood still, her answer freezing him to the core. "Sharon, no" he said, "We are not-"

Something slammed into Helo's shoulder, glancing off and striking him in the side of the head. Stunned, he looked down to see a piece of hardware lying at his feet, and realized that Tyrol had thrown it at him. He looked back at the other man as he felt a cut on his ear bleeding down his neck.

"Tell me you frakker!" Tyrol screamed, his anger at the perceived betrayal overwhelming him. "What did the Cylons offer you? A room full of Sharons? Tell me you piece of shit!"

Walking towards the man, he felt the chief's anger unleash his own, forgetting Sharon's threat a moment before.

"Let me tell you what the Cylons didn't do," Helo growled between clenched teeth. "They didn't steal my child. They didn't hand me a metal box and tell me my daughter was inside. They didn't leave my child to die on some Gods forsaken rock!"

Helo's reply left the chief in silence, his expression transforming from anger to confusion. "What? What are you talking about?"

"Sharon and I are leaving," Helo continued, regaining his composure. "All you have to do is let us leave. That's it."

The chief shook his head, still working through Helo's earlier words. "She...she didn't die?"

Captain Agathon and Lieutenant Agathon, please contact the CIC immediately.

"I need to leave, chief," Helo said calmly. "They stole Hera from us, and then they let her die. I'm not going to let that happen again. So you can stay out of the way, or you can help. But I'm not going to let you stop me. Do you understand?"

"That's not possible," Tyrol said, shaking his head in disbelief. "It has to be some kind of mistake. It must have been some kind of accident..."

Helo took another step towards Tyrol, making sure he had the man's attention. "Look at her," he said quietly, pointing at his Cylon wife. "Look at Sharon and tell her it was an accident."

Captain Agathon and Lieutenant Agathon, please contact the CIC immediately.

The chief closed his eyes, then lifted his hands and ran them roughly through his hair. Helo walked back to Sharon and picked up the navigation module.

"Let's go Sharon," Helo said.

"They're looking for us."

"I know."

"So you're leaving?" the chief asked, taking a few steps towards them. "Just like that? You're just gonna give up and let them win? You're gonna give up on everyone?"

"Stay there, chief," Helo said, gesturing for Tyrol to not come any closer. But the man continued to walk towards them.

"After everything you've been through, you're just gonna quit?" the chief continued, moving by them and towards the door. "You think I'm going to let you just walk away? Let you quit?"

"Chief stop-"

"Or what?" the chief asked, reaching out to grab the door. "You're going to shoot me, Captain?"

Before Helo could reply, Sharon answered the question, lifting her sidearm and leveling it at Tyrol's head.

"Step away from the door, chief," she said.

The chief stopped as he stared down the barrel of Sharon's gun, leaving his hand on the door handle. Swallowing hard, he took a deep breath, and then looked Sharon in the eye.

"You're gonna have to shoot me Sharon," Tyrol said. "I can't let you take that ship. I'm sorry." Tyrol shook his head as he searched for the right words. "We need you. You know that. We need both of you."

Captain Agathon and Lieutenant Agathon, please contact the CIC immediately.

The room fell silent as the chief looked between the Sharon and Helo. He opened his mouth to say more, when a voice from outside the room interrupted him.

"Chief?" Cally called from the other side. "Chief are you in there?"

"Stay out there Cally!" the chief yelled. "Stay out there!"

Despite his order, the door began to open. Helo tucked his own sidearm quickly into the back of his slacks, but Sharon made no move to lower her weapon. The chief looked wide-eyed at her, pleading as their gazes locked. A moment later, Sharon had placed her sidearm on the shelf beside her, keeping her hand wrapped around the grip, but out of sight. Sharon and Tyrol's eyes stayed on one another as Cally stepped in, an unspoken bargain negotiated between the two in the span of a second.

"Cally leave," the chief said calmly, still watching Sharon.

"I'm sorry chief, I..." Cally stopped as she saw the other two occupants of the room. "Oh. You're here, Captain," she said looking at Helo. "Everyone's looking for you."

Helo nodded silently, his nerves on edge as Sharon and Tyrol's eyes stayed locked.

Cally turned back to the door and motioned for someone to come over. "The admiral is here."

Helo could feel the situation spiraling out of control. This was not what they planned. This was not what they wanted. All they wanted was to leave, but that seemed impossible now.

"Cally. Get out, right now," the chief said.

"Chief?"

"Now!" he yelled

She stared at him in surprise for a moment, trying to understand what she couldn't see, but did as he asked, and stepped out of the room. Turning back to Helo, Sharon spoke.

"They've come for us," she said.

"We don't know that," Helo replied, pulling out his sidearm and loading a round into the chamber, then tucking it into the back of his slacks. "Wait for me on this, okay Sharon?"

She didn't reply as she turned back to the door.

"Don't do this," the chief said, taking a step towards them as he looked out the door. "Please, don't do this. I swear to the Gods I will help you in any way I can, but don't do this."

"It's too late," Sharon said coldly, lifting her sidearm off the shelf and placing it in her holster, the safety still off.

The chief opened his mouth to speak again, but closed it as the admiral stepped into the room.

He walked in alone, without an escort, without the squad of marines Helo had been prepared for. The admiral looked from Helo and Sharon then back to the chief. Helo held his breath, glancing at Sharon from the corner of his eye, both of them waiting for the admiral to do or say something.

The chief stood perfectly still, keeping his eyes on Sharon. Adama followed his gaze, and turned to face the Agathons.

Pulling the door shut behind him, the admiral walked slowly towards Helo and Sharon. He removed his glasses as he stepped closer, folding them carefully before tucking them in his jacket pocket. His eyes moved slowly from Helo to Sharon, and then back again. Helo waited for the words.

"We've received a communication from Gaius Baltar," the admiral said, "He says he's aboard a Cylon basestar. He says your daughter is still alive."