Kara took a deep breath and closed her eyes—trying to ignore the background noise in the situation room and focus on the problem at hand. They needed a plan, but for some reason all she could do was draw a blank in the creative department. She was supposed to be the master of op planning, but faced with one of the toughest challenges yet, she couldn't seem to think up anything more intelligent than a nugget could.
She stayed like that, racking her brain for something, anything, until Gaeta interrupted her.
"Here are those maintenance logs and flight schedules you requested Sir," he said.
Kara opened her eyes just in time to see him slip the papers onto the table in front of her. They wouldn't help her now, but when she did finally come up with a plan she would need them. She'd need to know which pilots to fly, depending on how many rotations they'd had lately, and which ships were in the best shape. She gritted her teeth, mentally berating herself for jumping the gun. It didn't matter who was flying, or what they were flying… not when they didn't have a plan.
"Can I get you anything else Captain?" Gaeta asked, looking at her tentatively.
"No," she said, her words coming out harsh. If she wasn't so focused on other things she might have even felt bad.
She watched as Gaeta walked across the room and back to the table he'd been working at, preparing the situation room for when they did carry out the op. Other than him, there were only a handful of other people present, most of whom were doing similar tasks.
Kara brought her focus back to the table in front of her. The part closest to where she was standing was covered in papers, but other than that and a few stray model vipers, the table was empty, another glaring reminder that she hadn't accomplished anything yet.
Kara shuffled through the recon photos for what seemed like the billionth time, looking for something that might trigger a plan to form in her mind. But with each picture she glanced at, the more frustrated she became. She knew there was an op hiding in there somewhere, but she couldn't find it. She fought the urge to scream as her patience grew thinner and thinner.
The sound of the hatch opening behind her was the only thing that stopped her from tossing the papers across the table like a child in the midst of a temper tantrum.
"Starbuck."
Before she had a chance to respond everyone else in the room was turning to salute their Admiral.
"At ease," he said to the room as he made his way around to the far side of the table from Kara. "What do you have Starbuck?"
She felt a surge of guilt as she looked up from the photos and met his eyes. "Nothing," she whispered dejectedly.
Immediately after the meeting the night before, she'd gone to work, locating the people and the resources she needed to make this successful. She'd been up until at least 0400 coming up with plans, only to scrap them later when she found a flaw. After catching a total of about three hours rack time, she'd made her way back to the situation room and started again, hoping that sleep would help her see things more clearly. Yet somehow, after spending her entire day so far in here, she was no farther along than she'd been when she left the meeting the night before. She was failing, big time.
The Admiral raised his eyebrows and gave her an odd look, like he didn't believe what she was saying. She couldn't blame him though; she could hardly believe it either.
"I'm sure I don't need to remind you of the time constraints," he said, looking at her firmly.
She shook her head as she held back a sigh. "No, Sir," she said, her voice almost meek.
He nodded once in response. "Keep me updated."
He turned to leave and Kara could only stand there and watch, becoming more and more desperate to think of some way to save those prisoners on the ship.
She forced her eyes away from the hatch that had already closed, and pulled a piece of paper closer to her, picking up a pen with her other hand at the same time. Hunching over the table she forced herself to begin jotting stuff down.
Soon enough she had half-formed ideas running through her head, but it seemed that each time she started to outline something the thought would either slip away from her, or there would be something clearly wrong with it and she was forced to move onto another one.
It was probably two hours later by the time her concentration finally failed and she snapped, dropping the papers on the table and throwing her pen so hard across the room that she heard it crack when it connected with the wall. Bracing her hands on the side of the table she closed her eyes, trying to regain some focus.
Something was wrong; she had to be missing something. There was no way that an op should be this hard to plan, no matter how important it was, or how much pressure there was riding on her to get it right.
Her racing thoughts were halted by the press of a warm hand on her lower back. She was about to whip around and deck the person who'd snuck up on her until she realized that it was Lee. A number of things gave it away, but the main one was that he was close enough that when she breathed deeply she could smell him. He had this unique sent—one that was completely Lee. She would know—she'd been sleeping in his rack for the past two weeks. Everything there smelled like him: the sheets, the pillow…
"Hey," she said, the word coming out more like a sigh than anything else as she opened her eyes and looked over her shoulder at him.
He smiled at her and she found herself wanting to smile back. "I thought you might want some help," he said, slowly withdrawing his hand from her back.
She missed the contact immediately, but the thought was shoved out of her head when she saw him extending his other hand toward her. She smiled when she saw that he was holding a mug of coffee.
"You or the coffee?" she asked, trying to keep her tone light.
He let out a quiet laugh as he pressed the mug into her hand. Her fingers curled around it immediately, savoring the warmth and the idea that it might help to keep her awake.
"Both," Lee replied quietly as he moved so that he was standing beside her instead of behind. His eyes immediately began to scan over the papers that were strewn all the way across the table. Picking up the nearest one he began to read, turning the page at different angles in order to follow her scribbled writing.
She had to hold back a laugh as his face scrunched up; he was so cute when he was confused.
"Um, this makes sense to you?" he asked, turning to look at her.
The smile fell from her face and she sighed, brushing away stray strands of hair wearily with one hand. "Not really," she admitted.
"Okay," Lee said slowly, turning back to look at the papers again. "So, uh… what do we have?"
Kara let out a groan as she placed the mug of coffee on the table and leaned forward, resting her head in her hands. "Nothing," she said bitterly. "I'm totally frakked."
"No you're not," Lee said encouragingly, briefly placing one hand on her shoulder and squeezing lightly. "We'll figure it out."
She looked up at him. "Not that I don't appreciate this Lee, but aren't you supposed to be flying CAP?" She was certain that she'd seen him name in the afternoon slot on the day's schedule.
Lee's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
She sighed again as she stood up straighter, no longer leaning on the table. "You," she replied. "You're supposed to be flying CAP right now."
Lee shook his head and the look on his face turned from confusion to worry in no time. "No," he said hesitantly. "I finished my rotation over an hour ago."
Kara shook her head, unwilling to believe that it was that late, but a quick glance at her watch told her Lee was right. "Frak me," she muttered, the weight of her assignment crashing down on her again.
"Hey," Lee said quietly as he put his hand on her shoulder again. "Why don't you fill me in and then go catch some rack time?"
"No," she said stubbornly. She was going to do this.
Thankfully he didn't argue with her, and instead turned his attention back to the mess in front of him. "Then let's get to work."
"No," she said forcefully as the frustration began to overwhelm her again. "Lee, the cylons aren't stupid, they'll see right through that."
"Well what then Kara?" Lee asked, obviously on the verge of losing his patience completely. "What are we going to do?"
She bit her tongue to keep from lashing out. It wasn't his fault after all. "I don't know," she said through gritted teeth. "But we aren't going to do that."
"Damn it, Kara," he said as he pushed himself up so that he was standing rather than leaning on the table. She couldn't help but notice that his appearance was beginning to match her own, tired and disheveled. "Every idea that I've come up with, you've shot down."
"They're textbook perfect plans, Lee," she said, turning to face him completely. "They aren't going to work, not against the cylons."
She could practically hear him counting to five in his head before he responded. "The cylons don't even know that we're coming Kara, we have the element of surprise."
"And I'd like to keep it that way, okay?"
He looked about ready to punch her, but she couldn't say that the feeling wasn't mutual. It wasn't that they didn't work well together; it was just that they had two completely different ways of approaching things. Most of the time that worked for them, but apparently this wasn't one of those times.
"Why does it have to be a full out attack?" he asked as he looked at her intently, his blue eyes catching hers and not letting go.
"What do you mean?" she asked hesitantly, a weird feeling in her gut. Was this what she had been missing this whole time?
He sighed. "Why do we have to go in, guns blazing, and have the fight of the century? Hell, we can't do that even if you want to—there's no way we can afford that many casualties."
He definitely had a point. "So what do you suggest?" she asked, trying to keep her voice even.
Lee groaned. "I don't know," he said. "You're so stubborn that you won't even give my plans a second thought."
"Oh, I'm so stubborn?" she asked rhetorically. "Who's the one that won't think outside the box for more than two frakking seconds?"
Lee glared at her for about a second before he started laughing. It took her a while to realize that in her tired state it was funny. Pretty soon she was nearly doubled over and trying to catch her breath.
"Gods," she said a few seconds later as she finally managed to regain most of her composure. "We fight like an old married couple."
The words slipped out before she even realized what she'd said. That was dangerous territory to be treading in, and normally when she went there it backfired. She held her breath, waiting for Lee to react.
He gave her an odd looking sideways glance, but that was all.
She breathed a sigh of relief—the last thing she needed to do was frak up their friendship again.
"So," she said, turning her attention back to the task in front of them. "No more blazing guns?" She put on a fake pout and when Lee looked over at her he laughed again.
"No more blazing guns," he confirmed. He rested his hands on the edge of the table and looked at the recon pictures again. "What we need is a way to get those prisoners out without the cylons even knowing we're there."
Kara snorted. "Like that's going to…" She broke off mid sentence as a thought sprang to mind. "Frak me," she said while her mind ran over the details. "You're right."
"Starbuck," the Old Man said as he walked into the situation room, the President accompanying him and looking as dignified as ever. "Lee," he added, sounding surprised to see his son already there.
"Captain Thrace," the President said, walking over to stand near the map table. "Am I correct in assuming you have a way to get those people off the cylon ship?"
Kara nodded and found herself smiling. "Yes, Madame President."
"Good," Laura affirmed, a small smile gracing her face. Turning to look at Bill she said, "We're just waiting for Commander Fisk and Captain Taylor I presume?"
He nodded. "Yes, they should be here any minute."
As if on cue, the hatch opened and the two Pegasus officers stepped through. "Sir," they said simultaneously, saluting the Admiral.
"Gentlemen," he responded, returning the salute.
"So, do we have a plan?" Fisk asked as he walked around to the far side of the table, his eyes never leaving the small figurines that were spread across it.
"Yes," the Admiral said as he glanced down at the table. "Captain Thrace has informed me that she's figured out a way to get the prisoners off the ship."
Kara found herself nodding in silent affirmation of the Old Man's words. She caught the skeptical look that Taylor threw at her from across the table, but she ignored it. Given how tired and cranky she was, if she did give it a second thought she'd be in hack before the night was over.
"Right," she said, focusing her attention on the map table. "Galactica will jump in here." She moved the small replica of the battlestar in between the position of the two basestars. "We'll be sending a scouting party a few minutes before so that we can confirm the position of the basestars before we jump."
The Admiral nodded. So far so good, now she just had to get him to agree to the next part of her plan.
"Pegasus will stay behind with the civilian ships."
Immediately she saw the Old Man's eyebrows rise as he looked at her skeptically. "Galactica is going to take on two basestars by herself?"
Kara nodded. "Yes, but not in the way you're thinking." She took a deep breath before plunging into her explanation. "As soon as we jump in Sharon's going to send a computer virus to the cylon ships, like last time."
It was so silent that Kara swore she would have been able to hear a pin drop. They were all waiting for her to explain her apparently insane plan.
"I had Helo go down and talk to her; she said that if she has enough time to prepare before we jump she'll be able to do it. It won't freeze their systems for long, but it'll be enough."
She looked around briefly, and Adama caught her eye. "How long?" he asked, not willing to blindly except her idea.
She sighed as she looked at him straight on. "Five minutes, maybe ten, but it's enough time for Galactica to take out at least one of the basestars, if not both."
"You're forgetting about the raiders Captain," Taylor said, drawing her attention back to him. "It doesn't matter how fast we're able to send that computer virus out, the cylons will still have time to launch raiders, not to mention the ones already flying guard around the ship."
When Kara spoke it was through clenched teeth. "I know," she said angrily. "But the virus will affect the raiders too. As soon as Galactica jumps in, we'll send out the virus and launch vipers. We'll be able to kill most of the raiders, if not all of them, before the cylons regain control of their systems."
"I don't like this," the President said as she studied the board intently. Looking up she added, "I'm sorry Captain Thrace, but it sounds too risky."
"It is risky," she said bluntly—there was no point in denying it.
"We're trusting a cylon."
"Believe me Madame President, I don't like the idea any more than you do. But this is the best way to save those people. The anticipated casualties are lower than with any other approach."
The President looked at Kara resolutely. "That's assuming our cylon prisoner will hold up her end of the bargain."
Kara nodded. "Yes, but she could have screwed us all over at any point, and she hasn't. Why would she now?" As much as Kara hated to admit it, that was the truth. But despite being aware of the logic behind her decision, she was just as nervous about this as the President. It was their only realistic option, but if something went wrong… it was all on her head. If Sharon decided to screw them over, she'd be more to blame than the cylon.
"Fine," Laura said. "We'll do it your way, but how are we going to get the people off the ship once the virus has been transmitted?"
Kara sighed and turned to look at the Old Man, more out of instinct than conscious thought. "Captain Adama will be leading a strike team." She wasn't blind; she saw the worried look that flashed across his face before the Commander's mask slipped back into place.
She ripped her gaze away from the Admiral and focused her attention back on the planning board. "Three raptors carrying marine strike forces will storm the ship," she said, moving the small replicas into place. "Once they get inside, they'll need to find wherever it is that the prisoners are being kept, and they'll need to do it as fast as they can, hopefully killing off as many toasters as they can on the way."
"I thought you said the cylons would be affected by the virus," Adama said.
Kara nodded. "The raiders and the ships will, but there's no guarantee that it'll knock out centurions. As for the human models… it's doubtful."
The President gave her another unconvinced look. "How do we know how many cylons are inside the ship?"
"We don't," Kara stated. "But it's a small ship, and they rely on the raiders to protect them. We aren't expecting there to be many."
Kara looked around her, waiting for another question. She wasn't surprised when it was from Stinger.
"So you're leading the squadron then?" he asked, a resentful look crossing over his face.
"No," she said bitterly. "It's another week before I can get back in the cockpit." She had the sudden urge to turn and look at Lee, but she stopped herself. Despite the fact that she'd told him it wasn't his fault, he still got that guilty look on his face any time someone mentioned her knee injury, even in passing.
"Who then?"
"Don't worry," she said sharply. "Galactica's pilots won't be the only ones getting the glory. I need you to lead the viper attack, plus we'll need a back up squadron of pilots from Pegasus."
Taylor looked surprised, but her comments seemed to have shut him up. Everyone else remained quiet too. When the silence stretched out into several seconds Kara let out a sigh of relief as she realized that she was done. After countless hours she was finally done.
"All right," the Admiral said. "I guess we have our plan."
Lee stood to the side as people began to file out of the room. Eventually only he, Kara and his father remained. Kara was hunched over the table at an uncomfortable looking angle, her head resting on the flat surface. Her eyes were closed and if she hadn't been standing he would have thought she was asleep.
His father began to head for the hatch, but paused when he got there. "You two did good," he said, a proud smile breaking over his face as he looked back and forth between them before opening the hatch and stepping out.
Kara lifted her head just in time to see the Old Man slip out. As Lee moved closer to her he could see how exhausted she was. She looked ready to simply pass out right there. A part of him wanted to be worried, but he forced it back, knowing that she'd be fine as soon as she got some rack time.
She turned her head to look up at him. "Still here?" she asked, fighting back a yawn.
He nodded. "Just waiting for you."
She smiled at him as she pushed herself off the table. He was still surprised at how easy he found it to smile back.
Lee walked beside Kara as she limped out of the room and toward the senior pilot's bunkroom. He tried not to think about how painful it looked for her to move, but he wasn't doing a very good job.
He'd screwed up and Kara had gotten hurt. Now he had another mission facing him and if he did something wrong again, more people would get hurt. It wasn't a comforting thought, not in the least. As much as he knew that he shouldn't fixate on it, he couldn't help himself—the more he thought, the more his gut twisted and churned as nervousness threatened to overwhelm him. He doubted that he'd be getting any sleep that night.
Lee was so lost in his thoughts that he was surprised when he looked up and saw they were standing in front of the entrance to the bunkroom. He moved to open the hatch but stopped when he felt Kara's hand on his arm. He turned to look at her and was quick to notice the almost timid and solemn look on her face.
"Thank you," she said sincerely, her words barely audible.
He gave her a tired smile. "Don't worry about it."
"No," she said firmly, her voice getting a little louder. Her grip tightened on his forearm. "I would have been screwed without your help," she admitted.
It was then that he realized exactly how much pressure she placed on herself. She was bound and determined to be Starbuck one hundred percent of the time, always saving their asses and pulling off miraculous stunts. It was great for the fleet, but not for her. It didn't ever really give her a chance to just be Kara.
Acting on instinct he gently pulled her into a hug. She tightened her arms around him and leaned against him tiredly. He ran one hand up and down her back and she sighed, nestling her head in against his neck. It felt right when it should feel wrong, but he was too tired to think about it much.
He had the sudden urge to turn his head and place a gentle kiss on her temple, but he didn't. That would definitely be stepping over the thin line between friendship and something more that they somehow managed to maintain. Instead he tightened his arms around her slightly and tilted his head to whisper in her ear.
"It's what friends do."
TBC