Chapter 10. Recovery

Battlestar Galactica, Commanding Officers Quarters.

Flattening the blue sleeves of his new duty uniform, Derek was glad that he had insisted on stopping at the Quartermaster's office upon arriving on the Galactica. A muffled, "Enter," snuck through the thick hatch which separated the Commanding Officer's Quarters from the waiting soldiers in the dimly-lit corridor.

Derek instantly recognized Commander Adama's deliberate, gravelly voice. He waited as the marine opened the hatch before following his escort inside. Stopping in front of the weathered Commander, Derek quickly came to attention. "Captain Robinaux reporting, sir," he announced.

Commander Adama brought his bandaged hand up, returning the Captain's salute. "At ease," he replied. He extended his hand to his former officer, "It's been a long time, Derek. I wish it were under different circumstances."

Derek released his hand. "Yes, sir," he answered somberly. Commander Adama was shorter than he remembered, and he had aged considerably, his black hair now silver gray. Still, the matching blood-stained bandages on his hand and head did not diminish the strength his former commanding officer conveyed.

The Commander took a moment to address the escorting marine and briskly dismissed her. He returned his attention to Derek, appreciative for the heavy silence which had settled between them. Motioning to an antique wooden desk he directed the younger officer to the far end of his quarters. He led the Captain past an informal sitting area monopolized by a massive leather sectional sofa. A classic print from the Cylon war was centered above it. "Have a seat."

Derek let the surroundings of the office wash over him as he pulled the chair to sit down. Soft, muted lights, deep rich rugs, and book cases overflowing with old leather-bound volumes gave the room a feeling more akin to a history professor than a military officer. Breaking his reverie, Derek turned his attention to the Commander sitting across from him, patiently waiting.

"Why don't we begin?" The Commander started, his rough voice had a softness that Derek didn't remember. Not waiting for a response, "Thank you for this," he continued, holding the after-action report that Derek had written while aboard the Freighter. "I haven't had a chance to read it in detail. I would like to hear about your experiences, both at Armistice Station and at Virgon. I would also like to hear your thoughts on the ship and crew that brought you here."

Derek began his story, and to his surprise he found himself easily detailing the trials of his ordeal. For his part, the Commander encouraged this, as he sat leaning back in his chair, quietly taking notes, and not once interrupting Derek's story. His report finished, Derek sat up nervously, waiting for the Commander to look up.

The Commander looked right at him, wearing glasses that Derek didn't realize that he had put on. "I have a few questions," he stated plainly. The two went back forth, Commander Adama continuing to take notes over the next 15 minutes. Reaching a comfortable stopping point, the Commander stacked his notes neatly against the desk before placing them in the folder with Derek's report. Taking off his glasses, he turned to Derek, "Thank you, Captain."

Clasping his hands together, the Commander sighed quietly as he reviewed the computer monitor on his desk. He turned back to Derek, sizing him up, "Captain, I am re-assigning you to Galactica's Air Wing." Before either could respond, the wall phone to his left rang out for his attention. "Excuse me a moment, Captain."

Derek watched as he picked up the phone, silently listening to half of the conversation taking place next to him.

"This is the Commander."

"Yes, Doctor."

"You found what?"

"Yes, I'll be right there."

"Thank you, Doctor."

Adama clicked a button on the base unit, reconnecting the line to the Com officer in the C.I.C. "Dee, have Col. Tigh meet me at Sick Bay." He hung up the phone.

The Commander turned back to the waiting Captain. "Derek, I need you to report to Captain Adama. He is the Galactica's CAG." He glanced at the notes on his desk, "I understand you suffered a concussion at Virgon." He waited for the pilot to nod affirmatively. "After meeting with the CAG, you will report to Dr. Cottle, I expect that he will clear you for flight duty."

Derek tried not to blanch as the Commander named his son as the new lead pilot. "Yes, sir," Derek responded, with more than a trace of confusion in his voice.

The Commander rocked back slightly as he gauged the pilot's tone. Looking directly at the Captain, he responded to the unspoken challenge with a measured tone. "I am afraid our previous CAG, Major Spencer, was lost with the majority of the Vigilantes squadron during our previous contact with the Cylons. Captain Adama was the highest ranking pilot on board after the initial attack. He has my full confidence."

"Of course, sir," Derek responded crisply. This was the Adama that he remembered, the one who played favorites. He hoped he didn't hold grudges the way that he used too.

"Can you find your way to the CAG's office? I can arrange an escort if you'd like," the Commander offered.

Derek stood; towering over this new C.O. "I think I can find my way. Thank you, sir," he replied.

Adama stood as well. "It's good to have you as part of our team. You are dismissed."

Coming to attention, Derek quickly saluted before replying, "Thank you sir." He turned to leave but stopped as the Commander called him back.

"Captain," he paused, his expression softening, "Derek, allow me to offer my deepest regrets at the loss of any family or friends you have suffered today." He chewed his top lip lightly, "I know you have a family. Is there any chance that they may have made it off world?"

Derek stood still, his heart pounding as he furiously stomped down his surging heartache. Stiffening, he looked at the Commander before answering, "I don't think so, sir. My wife and daughter were both at home on Caprica." He spun on his heels to leave. When he reached the hatch, Derek turned back to Adama. "I'm glad your son survived, sir." He paused for just a moment, "You have my word, as a father, that I will do everything I can to make sure he…"

Adama dropped his head in response. Now looking up at his returned officer, he replied, "Thank you Derek, I know you will."

Derek passed through the hatch, quickly marching a path towards the CAG's office, struggling to keep his emotions under control. Half way there he entered a small utility closet, quietly closing the door behind him. Sliding to the deck, his knees in his hands, he allowed his emotions to rise and surface. Burying his head between his legs, he began to sob. After the storm passed, he sat in the small dark room for a few more minutes. He wiped his face and blew his nose into some paper towels which he had torn off a roll on the cart next to him. Straightening his uniform shirt, he carefully exited the closet, resuming a more reasonably paced course to his new CAG's office.

Battlestar Galactica- Sick Bay.

Admiral Adama approached the attendant at the nurse's station just inside the main entry to Galactica's extensive sick bay. Brightly lit and clean, the small lobby was furnished with two small couches on either side of the main hatch, a small table sat next to each couch, both of which were accented with a small plant. The hatch behind the Commander opened. Turning towards the door, Adama watched as a harried Colonel Tigh rushed through.

Pulling up suddenly, the balding executive officer turned his attention to the Commander. "What's this about, Bill?" he asked quietly.

"We'll both see in a minute," he answered his longtime friend. They both turned their attention to the painfully young crew man seated behind the large desk at the center of the compartment. The two officers waited briefly as he quickly replaced the phone's receiver back in the base.

"Commander, Colonel," he nervously stammered. "Doctor Cottle should be here any moment."

"Thank you," Adama responded.

Doctor Cottle pushed through the swinging double doors into the lobby. Holding one of the doors opened, he nodded at the waiting officers, then addressing the soldier behind the desk, he brusquely directed, "I am not to be disturbed for the next few minutes." Stepping to the side, he ushered the ship's two most senior officers into the medical wing, "This way gentlemen."

The doctor led the officers to the morgue three decks below Sick Bay's main level. Commander Adama waited in front of a large closet next to the elevator as the doctor crossed the dark room, his footsteps following a familiar path to the far wall. He squinted as the bright lights came on. Moments later, his eyes nearly adjusted, he took in the large, sterile room. Rectangular in shape, the two long walls were lined with locker-like doors, each one housing a body inside. A small workstation sat along the edge of the far wall where Doctor Cottle now sat carefully working with the computer. Eight stainless steel tables filled the interior of the room, seven of which held a victim from the Cylon attack. Walking to the nearest table, Adama cautiously picked up the folder clipped to the side. He opened the folder and quickly reviewed the file inside. With a sigh, he put the folder back before carefully unzipping the top of the black body bag a few inches. He shuddered as the burned face and uniform of Specialist Prosna was revealed to him. The Commander bowed his head and offered a silent prayer in honor of the slain soldier.

The doctor approached the two officers quietly, almost reverently. He indicated to the opposite wall, "The victim I want to show you is over there." He turned and headed towards the indicated locker. Upon reaching it, he produced a key which he inserted into the mechanism next to one of the locker doors. Turning the key, he opened the door and smoothly slid the drawer out, a black body bag resting on top. With a nod, he and Colonel Tigh each grabbed an end of the bag, carefully sliding the body onto the lone empty table. Leaning over the body, he opened the bag for the two commanding officers to see.

"Who am I looking at, Doctor?" Adama asked quietly.

With a serious look, the doctor picked up the chart and handed it to the Commander. "This is Michael Doral, a computer specialist with Integral Systems Engineering. He was on the Battlestar Promptus," he answered directly. "If you look at the picture on his I.D., you will notice…"

"Yes, I see," Adama replied stoically. "Colonel?" he said quietly, handing the folder to his executive officer. He bent forward to more closely examine the body in front of him.

"Gods Dammit!" Tigh exclaimed after looking at the I.D. in the folder. His eyes hardening, they glared at the body below. Calmer now, he quickly added "I guess this confirms Dr. Baltar's suspicions about our Mr. Doral."

Adama looked at the doctor for confirmation. Receiving none, he straightened to his full height, scratching his chin as he stared vacantly at the row of lockers across from him. "This doesn't confirm that Mr. Doral is a Cylon, but it is a hell of coincidence." He paused as he turned back to the two officers with him, "Any mention of Mr. Doral having an identical twin?" he asked cautiously.

"Come on, Bill!" Tigh exclaimed, "I reviewed the security footage while you were on the station, and we know our Doral planted that device on the DRADIS console. Whatever the hell it is. Now we just happen to find a twin brother, who happened to be on a different Battlestar. Coincidence my eye; they're fracking Cylons and you know it!"

"So what do we do with him? Shoot him?" the doctor asked gruffly.

Tigh looked up at that, a wicked gleam in his eyes; "We put him out the airlock is what we do," he said viciously.

"No," Adama stated strongly. Both officers looked at him, waiting for his decision. "We leave him here, on the station, alive." He waited as both officers nodded their head's deferring to him. "Leoben, the human-like Cylon I fought in the station, he told me that when he died his consciousness and location would be transmitted, somehow, to the Cylon command. I don't know if he made that up, but just in case, I don't want to knowingly carry around a living Cylon on board."

The officers stood at the table for a moment, breaking the silence, the doctor spoke up, "Commander, I would like to keep both human-like Cylon bodies on board for further study."

"That would be fine," he answered, "Please include Dr. Baltar in your examination." He waited as the Doctor nodded in agreement, "Thank you Doctor, please keep me informed of your progress." Turning on his heel, Commander Adama and Colonel Tigh made their way towards the elevator as they headed back to the Combat Information Center.

His eyes were fixed on those of his Commander, even as the two officers briskly made their way back to the Command Center of the ship. "Bill, how many of these fracking things you think we have on board? Hell, the gods only know how many are hiding in those civilian ships!"

"We may never know," he answered gravely. Without breaking stride, he added, "We have to keep this quiet Saul. No one can know that the Cylons look like us."

With a heavy heart Colonel Tigh replied, "Aye, sir."

Battlestar Galactica – Commander Air Group Office

Derek was surprised to find the hatch to his new Commanding Officer's office open. He paused briefly to straighten his uniform before stepping into the doorway. The first person he saw was a young woman wearing standard issue green fatigues with a gray sleeveless tee and brown tank combo. Sitting on the edge of the desk, her body position and the large cigar which hung from her mouth exuded the extreme cockiness which so many Viper pilots clutched as a badge of honor. Behind the desk sat a serious looking man wearing the same fatigues and shirt combo that his colleague wore. Derek guessed he was about thirty, short and stocky with brown hair, his skin tone slightly darker than your typical Caprican. There was a very slight resemblance to his father. Derek stepped into the doorway and quickly came to attention, "Captain Derek Robinaux reporting, sir."

Seemingly unprepared for his new officer's arrival, the younger man stood up. The Viper pilot next to him seemed to hesitate before gingerly sliding off of the desk and slowly turned to face the new pilot at the door.

"At ease, Captain, please come in."

Derek stepped forward, extending his hand and shaking that of his new boss. He turned to the brash pilot next to him. She was tall and muscular with short blonde hair. Her predatory eyes were measuring him, looking for weaknesses, silently challenging him. He waited for Captain Adama to sit down before sitting himself. Moments later, the Lieutenant sauntered to a couch along the far wall, casually stretching out along its length.

"Lee Adama." The young man introduced himself, grimacing slightly he pointed to the young woman behind him, "That's Lt. Kara Thrace, you'll have to excuse her manners, rumor has it she was raised by wolves." He smiled meekly at that. Composing himself, he picked up a folder sitting on his desk. He opened it, cursorily looking it over, "I see you were squadron leader on the Cruiser Odin, and I also read that you previously served under my father."

"Yes sir," Derek answered curtly.

Lee put the folder down, sighing quietly. He looked Derek straight in the eye. "Captain, as I am sure you are aware, you have time in grade. Technically, I should be reporting to you."

Derek looked back at the man across from him. 'Am I really supposed to follow this kid and his out of control pilots?' he asked himself, silently fuming. Trying not to react, he pushed those thoughts to the side before responding "Yes, sir."

Lee never broke eye contact with the pilot seated across from him; "Is there going to be a problem, Captain?"

"No, sir. I've already spoken with the Commander, you have his full confidence." Derek responded bluntly. What did it matter, I'll probably be dead within the week;he thought callously, a part of him hoping. To his surprise, his new Commanding Officer laughed at that.

Quickly recovering, his brief smile turned into a scowl as he thought of his father, "Well, that would be a first," Lee bitterly responded. He pushed the folder to the side, "Look, Captain" he began, "I don't need you to agree with the Commander's decision to appoint me as this ship's lead pilot; but that was his decision, and I need you to respect that and the chain of command. If you can't then you need to talk to the Commander. Just keep in mind my father's not one to back down." Lee looked at the man across from him, carefully watching his expression before continuing. "But here's the thing, Derek, I need you. I've only been on this ship a few hours longer than you have. I don't know any of these pilots, except Kara. I've never worked with any of them. And now, hours after the annihilation of our society, I need to organize these pilots who don't know me, don't trust me, and have lost everything and everyone they know and love into a cohesive force to defend this fleet. I need you, Derek. I need your experience, your seniority; I need you to help me defend this pathetic, disparate collection of broken- down civilian ships, which as far as we know, holds the last surviving souls of our species. Will you help me, Derek?"

Derek nodded his head, quietly answering, "Yes, sir, I will follow your command."

"Good." Lee spun the monitor so that Derek could see the data on the screen, "We currently have 54 Vipers, which I am dividing into two squadrons. I will command the Vigilantes, FC-97 and I want you to command Primus squadron, FC-01. I am assigning Lt. George Birch, call-sign Cat-Bird, and Lt. Tucker Clellan, call-sign Duck, as your team leaders." Lee handed Derek two manila folders, each containing the dossier of a pilot. "Each is an experienced pilot and should be able to help you organize your squadron."

Derek took the folders from Lee, responding "Very well, sir," as he placed them to the side.

Lee handed him a third folder, "I am assigning Lt. Joel Ortega to be your wing-man." He called Lt. Thrace over, "Kara, why don't you quickly brief the Captain on Lt. Ortega."

Guffawing quietly, Kara strode back to the table where she took the folder out of Derek's hands. She placed the folder open on the table, "Galactica is Ace's first assignment, he's been here three months, and as you can guess he is your typical nugget, 24 years old, ready to take on the worlds and he thinks he knows everything."

Derek grimaced at the thought of breaking in a new pilot, I really am going to die in the next week, he thought sourly as he scanned the top page.

Kara waited for Derek to look up before continuing, "Unlike most nuggets though, he's a hot stick and quick learner." She smiled for a second, "He lets his temper get the better of him, and he tends to be too aggressive, especially in the heat of the moment. Overall, though, he is one of the better rookie pilots that I have flown with."

"So," Lee chimed in, "I'm hoping you can train this pilot, help him to reign in his temper, and teach him to make better decisions."

Derek picked up the folder, and then firmly placed it in front of him. "Yes, sir."

Smiling for the first time, Captain Adama stood up, "Now, let's find you a plane."

Derek watched Lee walk around the desk and past him before passing through the hatch. Derek hastily got up and followed the Captain out of the door towards the hangar bay.