DISCLAIMER: The character's and the universe of the Battlestar Galactica do not belong to me.
AMMONITE - thank you for beta.
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YEAR OF HELL by -yannik-
Chapter Three - ONLY THE INTENT
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Some awakenings were worse than others. But some awakenings were simply dire. The thought of getting up, having a shower, getting dressed, getting… too much. That was just too much. On some mornings it would be better not to wake up at all.
So Lee pretended he hadn't awakened. He lay unmoving, his eyes open. Not thinking, not dreaming. In some kind of abeyance.
His senses detected movement to his side. Noise of someone's sigh. Voice saying gruffly "Good morning." Smile in her voice. Wetness of her kiss on his cheek. "How did you sleep?" He did not move. He did not exist, but she continued "I slept great." His eyes observed her stretching her arms, the muscles on her back moving smoothly under her soft skin. Thick black hair caressing that skin. Then she turned to face him with playful smirk in her green eyes. "That was a great idea I had, with this courier trip, wasn't it?" And she kissed him on the lips.
That's when she noticed his stillness. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"Nothing" he forced himself to answer.
"Hmm" She got up with a sigh, rolled over him, hurt that tender spot on his chest. His left hand wandered to touch the scar involuntary. She continued her rambling with her back turned to him. "I got promoted, you know. Frankly – I thought you'd notice, but you were far to busy undressing me yesterday, to notice what you were taking off of me. I'm an ensign now. You're sleeping with an officer now, Commander." She turned to him, already clad in her dress-uniform top.
She was wrong, he had noticed it last night. He just hadn't felt like talking about their jobs any more. That would lead to the reasons why she'd been promoted, and that to another issue, and another. So many of them he'd wanted to be free of for a moment. He'd been tired of it.
"Does it hurt?" she asked, worried, and he followed her gaze to his own palm, resting on the shot site on his chest.
He took it back as if the skin burned him. As if he felt guilty of showing her his weakness. "No."
"Lee" she was genuinely concerned. "It shouldn't be hurting any more" she whispered. "Did you talk to Cottle about it?"
"I'm under Ishay's supervision while onboard Pegasus. And I'm taking pain killers. They help," he said flatly, trying to discourage her from dragging on the subject.
She shrugged and returned to getting dressed. "The shuttle leaves in half an hour, so I have to hurry to CIC. Do you think Major Balder prepared that list of transfers?"
"I'm sure she did," Lee replied. He just wanted her to go away, so he could snuggle up in the sheets on his bed and fall back to sleep. He didn't want to be conscious.
"You're not getting up?"
"Later"
He heard her sigh, then he felt her leaning over him, and kissing him on the forehead. "You sure you're okay?"
"Yeah" he forced himself to smile reassuringly, but had a feeling she was not fooled this time.
But she couldn't stay. Duty called. "I'll see you later."
"See you."
When the hatch hissed close he turned on his side, and the pain soared through the muscle. Dee was right; it shouldn't be hurting any more, but it did. Cursing under his breath he rose, and reached for the pills. His hands shook and instead of just one, a few of them fell on his palm. It suddenly felt tempting; no more dire awakenings. A few more…a whole bottle…
"Commander Adama, please report to CIC! Pass the word to Commander Adama. Commander, please report to CIC."
Lee gazed at the emptied pill bottle in his hand. CIC was calling him, and he just…
He rushed to the bathroom and threw up the contents of his stomach. What the frak was he doing! What was going on with him? It was so irresponsible!
He dressed himself, feeling his whole body shaking; he had trouble buttoning up his uniform tunic. He'd been so stupid! If someone found him… and that bottle. What would they think? What would that do to the morale of his ship, of the whole Fleet if the Commander…
There was Dee in the CIC, but he couldn't make himself look her in the eye. He came straight to Major Balder, who awaited him with a serious face.
"Report."
"Stinger crashed, sir. On landing approach."
"Returning from CAP?" Lee was stunned. Such an experienced pilot? Crashed? "How on Kobol! It wasn't even a combat landing!"
"Well actually it was. He was practicing combat landings with some nuggets. He wanted to show them how to do it."
"Stinger? Where was Showboat?"
"He was filling in for her; she requested a day off."
Lee gazed at his XO for a moment, remembering their conversation from a few days before. And Stinger's conversation with Thumper. They are all on the verge.
"He did it on purpose?" he whispered for Major's ears only.
She didn't understand at first. "What?" But then it downed on her, and she seemed almost offended. "No. Not Stinger, I'm sure of it. He's not that kind of person" she hesitated. "He's been tired though."
"Major! Commander," a young Petty Officer run to them. "I got a note from the Life Station – Stinger's made it, they are stabilizing him now."
"I'll go…" Lee turned to leave, but he felt Balder's hand on his elbow.
"Commander, please" she requested. "Let me deal with it. Crew status is an XO's job anyway."
Lee looked at her, and then he consented. She was right, besides he wasn't strong enough to deal with that amount of stress at the moment.
"Sir?" Dualla approached, startling him. "I believe the raptor won't be starting anytime soon, the flight deck…"
"Yes, Petty Officer…" he caught himself, and corrected immediately: "Ensign. You may wait in my quarters, I'll let you know when you can get off."
He didn't want to talk, to discuss anything with anyone. He had to stay in CIC anyway, or he needed to oversee the damage on the flight deck and the repairs. He had a job to do. Dee lingered, but she realized there was no place for her in the CIC of the ship she did not serve on.
Lee immersed himself in his job, and forgot about his morning slip-up for nearly the whole day. Until late in the afternoon, when he went to visit Stinger in Life Station. Nothing worse than a mild concussion and a broken arm, but Lee ordered Stinger to sign up for the second wave of settlers to New Caprica that was due to leave in a few days. It already consisted of many of the finest people from both Pegasus and Galactia.
Gaeta resigned, which was one of the reasons Dee was promoted; Chief Tyrol, Cally, Peter Laird – Pegasus deck chief, some engineering staff, some weapons maintenance, five pilots from Galactica, three from Pegasus – now four. Stinger objected at first, but one petrifying "Adama glare" was enough to convince him.
And then Lee went to talk to Doctor Ishay about Stinger, and she casually asked how his shoulder was.
For a second Lee couldn't speak, he felt as if he was choking, but he managed to hold himself steady.
"Well, actually…" he tried to speak, after taking a deep breath, and was surprised how relaxed his voice sounded. "I ran out of pain meds, I could use some more, if you…"
"Already?" Ishay looked up, obviously stunned. "The record says you got a new bottle just…" She checked. "Four days ago?" She eyed him expectantly, and he felt sick. He was scared his legs would give out right then and there, and he would collapse. "Are you overdosing?" she asked when he didn't respond. So she didn't guess correctly. He could… He could make something up.
"No, I kind of… spilled them" he tried, and her questioning stare forced him to continue. "I was sleepy in the morning, and dropped the opened bottle - straight into the toilet." It sounded incredibly stupid.
But somehow the Doctor let him lead her on. "We can't afford to lose medications like that, sir." Apparently she thought that was the reason for his obvious guilt. Lee felt ugly inside, he didn't mean to deceive her like that. He really liked Layne Ishay – she was the one who saved his father's life after all. That earned her this special tutoring by Doctor Cottle, and this special position of full Doctor onboard Pegasus now. Lee wondered if she cursed her luck just as much as he cursed his; half of the medical team of Galactica was moving planetside too, along with the great Cottle himself. Lost in his thoughts, Lee barely registered her comment. "I shouldn't give you the next bottle now as a form of punishment."
He gave her a guilty look. "Perhaps you shouldn't…" Then he wouldn't be tempted… He should tell her. He knew he should tell her what he did this morning.
"But you need to be fit for duty" she commented, and the brief moment in which he was almost able to confess, passed. She continued, completely unaware of her patient's inner turmoil. "I spoke to Doctor Cottle about you, and we need to run some tests. It's possible that the bullet damaged some nerve in your muscle. That might be causing the pain. But we need to make sure. So, whenever you have time. The sooner the better…"
Of course. Lee agreed to come and see her right after the second group of settlers left for the surface, though she said she'd prefer it to be before. But then, she had to start dealing with her job without Cottle holding her hand.
The next morning's awakening was – surprisingly – not worse. After the briefing with the XO, the Commander was supposed to talk to the pilots about the previous day's accident and it's aftermath. But to his surprise he found the pilots in good spirits, laughing over something in one of the back rows. They didn't notice him until he was standing right behind their backs. That thing that had them so interested seemed to be some kind of a poll.
"Commander on deck!" Penguin shouted suddenly, and they all snapped to attention, Thumper snatching the paper from the table and hiding it behind his back.
"At ease" Lee said. "What have you got there, Thumper?"
"Uh, sir?"
"Hand it over, Lieutenant."
Thumper cast a glance at his comrades, and reluctantly handed Commander the sheet he was hiding.
One glance was enough for Lee to realize that they were betting Apollo against Starbuck in a race. Frakking Starbuck! She had been trying to get him to that stupid challenge several times – saying it would simply be fun, or appealing to his ambitions – but he kept turning her down. A half a year ago she would have had him on her plate, and he would have kicked her ass in the air, but now… he just didn't want to. He just didn't care if she was better or not. But she didn't hear him. It looked like Starbuck wouldn't take "no" for an answer.
"There's no race" he informed his pilots coldly. "I'm glad to have the names of the gamblers though. No repercussions this time, but I don't want to see a hazard on my ship ever again. Take your seats; we're going to talk about your CAG."
As soon as he was done – and he had a bad feeling that morale didn't jump up after his speech – he summoned Starbuck to Pegasus. She was not surprised at all. In fact she seemed to be better informed about the purpose of this meeting than he was.
"I spoke to the Admiral already" she begun after a very informal salute she gave him. "Stinger frakked up royally! And given how many pilots want to leave, we will not need two air groups soon."
Lee wasn't sure what she meant. "There are only… what? Nine people leaving."
"Nine people were allowed" she explained. "But many more requested. At least on Galactica; I turned them down. I bet Stinger did the same here, he hadn't told you?" she asked, surprised, but covered it up immediately with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Oh, never mind. What do you think?"
Lee blinked. He had no idea what she was referring to.
"The Admiral's idea" she chimed in. "Of joining two air groups? What? It's not about that?" she appeared surprised.
"Apparently he didn't consider it appropriate to include me on that information" Lee admitted bitterly.
"Oh, he just came up with the idea." Kara started explaining the Old Man, as if he needed an advocate. "I'm sure he needs to think it over, before he makes some decisions. It was just a thought spoken aloud, in fact. I simply assumed that he spoke to you, and that's why you called me in. So… why did you anyway?"
Lee just took the paper he had taken from the pilots and placed it on the table in front of her. She picked it up, her brows furrowed. Then her face lit up in a smile as she realized what she was looking at.
"Oh, frak me! We're actually going head-to-head on Pegasus!"
"It isn't funny, Kara."
"It isn't? Oh c'mon! They must respect you here after all, if they bet you so high. You know – they actually think you could win. Look how many people bet on you!" She put the poll under his nose, but he made no move to acknowledge whatever she wanted to show him.
"I'm not doing it" he said evenly, looking straight at her. "There isn't going to be a race."
"They could share some of that faith they have in you, that might even give you a chance." Kara shrugged, and continued staring at the polls, shaking her head with disbelief. Then she looked up at him. "You think you can gain something with taking that away?" She waved the paper. "There is a second poll going on Galactica. And frak me, Lee, I bet a fortune on myself. Well, Anders did. But…Dee bet on you. She'll be disappointed."
"Listen…"
"No. You listen" she interrupted and Lee thought there was no stopping her. This was Starbuck after all. This was no Dee, who kept asking "are you sure you're okay?" This was Starbuck, who was jumping to conclusions – wrong ones most often, like the one that he needed to be kicked in the butt – and who hated standing idly by. She got an idea, so she kept charging like a battering ram. "There's one more pool" she kept informing him, "in question - if the race will take place before the second departure or after. And I bet on the former again, so I expect you to stand up and let me win this one at least, if you claim you can kick my ass in the air. Let's see how true that is!"
"Kara…"
"Oh, c'mon, I'll go easy on you. I know it's been a while since you…" she stopped suddenly, her brows wrinkled in surprise again. "Wait a minute! You haven't flown since the Blackbird, have you?"
Lee did not answer. He didn't have to.
"Oh, frak me Lee, so that's why they are t…" she caught herself. "Um… I mean…"
But he guessed what she meant to say. "Talking? Who's talking about what Kara?" he asked slowly, standing up.
"Nothing" she tried to cover up. "Really, what are you…" but she knew better than that. She stopped and gazed at him, begging him not to push. He expected answers though. "They think you're afraid."
"Of flying?" Lee asked, felling his stomach squirm, and she nodded silently. "Who? Pilots? On Galactica or on Pegasus?"
"Well… I heard it on Pegasus several times, though looking at this poll…" she indicated the paper she still held in her hand. "But some people from Galactica were talking too. I just told them to shut it, so I haven't heard it any more." She lowered her head, speaking this final part in a really soft voice.
Lee nodded slowly, though she wasn't looking at him. He knew this was to be expected – sooner or later someone would catch up on his avoidance of flying. Being a Commander was a good excuse, but people on Galactica had gotten to know him well, and they knew Apollo couldn't live without flying. And yet he did. Other pilots must have found it surprising.
"I'm going to have to prove them wrong" he sighed.
"You don't have to prove anything!" Starbuck – his ex-wingman – exclaimed in his defense. He felt grateful that she was on his side in this as in anything else, but she was also wrong.
"I have to do it Kara, it's my duty." He couldn't let his pilots believe their Commander was a coward – that could be bad for morale. "And actually you should be glad" he added, "you just got what you wanted. There will be a race."
She looked at him, speechless for a second.
And then "Wow!" her face broke into a wide grin. "Really? That's my Apollo! I knew there was a spark of ambition left in you – you're going to prove all those frak-ups wrong. That's the spirit!" She laughed that contagious laughter of hers, shoving him in the shoulder.
But he did not return her laugh, and she noticed.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"Nothing."
"Frak nothing. What is it Adama?" she looked him intently in the eye. He could almost see gears in her head turning and turning swiftly. "What was it you said?" she remembered. "It's your duty? You're doing it just out of sense of duty?" she asked incredulously, but also with concern.
He waited a moment, wondering if he should really drag her into this. But then he remembered – she was his wingman. "That's all I have left" he admitted finally.
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t.b.c.
Coming next... Yes, there should be some "frakking in the sky", if I'm only able to pull it off...
