Chapter 33 Protocols

She was almost late for the pilot briefing, scooting into one of the rear seats as the hand of the clock made its last ticks to the hour mark. Her delayed arrival wasn't because she'd fallen asleep, but due to the lethargy that made dragging herself from the bunk and getting dressed take twice as long as it should have. She skipped showering, lacking the energy to bother. Besides, everyone knew Starbuck considered hygiene optional.

In the mess, bent over a bowl of what passed for breakfast, she had forced herself to swallow at least a few spoonfuls before shoving the rest towards the center of the small table she occupied alone. Then, while sitting and staring at the congealing contents, she lost track of time. Not much, but enough that when one of the Raptor pilots from her bunkroom called over his shoulder that she'd better hurry, she jerked and, looking up at the clock, was startled to see that some twenty minutes had slipped by and she was going to have to hustle or see if Apollo was really serious about his earlier threat of brig time.

As she settled into the seat, Kara saw that his eyes were on her and the displeasure was easy to read even from this distance. Right. Not like I've a chance of getting on his good side, she grimaced to herself. Well, frak him. Lowering her head, she avoided looking up throughout most of the rest of the meeting.

After a half hour of reviewing the fleet's current readiness status, CAP schedules for the day, and new protocols, Apollo introduced the reintegration plan for the returning Galactica personnel—the pilots in particular. Kara did glance up then, but the CAG was focused on the papers in front of him.

"Anyone returning to active duty needs to get me their medical clearance before the evening CAP shift. Also be prepared for a review and re-certification session tomorrow immediately after the morning briefing which will be at 06:00 sharp going forward." He abruptly raised his eyes and caught Starbuck staring at him across the heads of those between. "Anyone without an all clear from Cottle shouldn't bother to show up in the morning," his words spoken to all, but directed at her.

At a time in the past she might have flicked him a one-fingered salute or snorted in acknowledgment. Now, she just ducked her head and went back to the finger exercises she'd fallen into the habit of doing when needing a distraction.

When Apollo dismissed the room, Kara was the first through the door and striding away down the corridor to avoid any fellow pilots that might have wanted to speak with her. With no duty assignment, and wanting to avoid the places acquaintances were most likely frequent, she set a course for sickbay.

If Lee was going to be a hardass about getting a sign-off by the Doc, Kara decided the sooner she got it out of the way the better. Besides, she wanted to see if she could time it to get someone other than Cottle to do her exam. The damn man was too observant, knew her too well. And more importantly, he'd been on New Caprica so it was a good bet that he knew she'd been held by the Toasters. Getting her medical clearance without having to answer a lot of awkward questions was only going to be possible if she could avoid him entirely.

Entering the too familiar medical bay, Kara dodged orderlies as they hustled about in the controlled chaos that was sickbay after a major engagement. She side-stepped out of the way as she surveyed the casualties of their exodus from New Caprica. Every bed, and a few spots along the wall, were filled with injured people.

After all their encounters with the Cylons, the human wreckage the war left in its wake was nearly old hat for her.

Yet this…

All these people hurt and dying. All those they'd lost on the planet. All so frakkin' unnecessary. If that traitor Baltar hadn't forced the colonization and left them vulnerable to the Cylons' return, so many lives wouldn't have been lost.

Taking in all the damage, she felt the thrum of anger and the need to be back in her Viper, blowing away the frakkers that had caused so much harm. And for that, she needed to snag someone…

Searching the busy personnel, she spotted her target just leaving a curtained bed. She pushed away from the bulkhead and steered an intercept course for the Doc's head assistant, Lieutenant Ishay.

The harried-looking woman paused as her path was blocked, giving Kara a once over, probably wondering why she was here since she appeared uninjured.

"The CAG's insisting on a medical all clear for us returning from the planet," Starbuck said with a shrug, and then gave a conspiratorial wink as she added, "What's say you sign my little slip and I'll clear outta your way?"

The assistant might not be Cottle, but she wasn't a pushover either. She crossed her arms and gave Kara a more thorough perusal, obviously suspecting that the notorious Starbuck was trying to cover something up. Kara sighed and realized that she was going to have to submit to at least a brief physical.

Deciding that appearing cooperative was her best bet, she said, "Hey, whatever. Just thought you guys looked busy. And Apollo's insisting on doing this today." Another shrug.

Ishay glanced at her watch and swept the room with a practiced eye before turning back to Kara with an impatient sigh.

"Come along, Captain." She jerked her head for Kara to follow. "Let's see if we can't get this done before I'm needed." The scrubs-clad woman snagged a tray of instruments and hustled Kara into Cottle's private office, closing the door behind them. "Off with the shirt and pants, and have a seat," she said with a tired nod towards the stool as she set the tray on the doctor's desk, precariously perching it on a stack of charts.

Kara hesitated for only the briefest moment then tugged her double tanks off and undid her boots, kicking them and the BDU pants aside as she took her place on the indicated seat.

As Ishay went through her list of medical questions, Starbuck kept her expression that of resigned impatience, answering as briefly a possible. She admitted that she'd been knocked unconscious the previous day, but no headache or dizziness today. Yes, her knee was fine. Yes, she'd eaten breakfast that morning. Ishay was obviously concerned about how much weight Kara had dropped.

Once the blood draw was done, Ishay picked up the stethoscope and went to place it on Kara's back to listen to lung sounds. Kara felt the other woman stiffen at her side and knew she'd seen the two fading scars. Nothing now to do but lie. She kept herself still as the other woman lightly traced with a fingertip one of the marks that ran from her shoulder blade to opposite hip.

"What?" Starbuck asked, craning her head, faking curiosity over the nurse's discovery.

"You've two new scars back here, Captain Thrace. How'd you get them?" Ishay moved to face Kara and her eyes looked uncertain for the first time since Kara waylaid her.

"The two gashes back there? Was setting up a tent and some frakker hadn't secured their end. Damn pole caught me as it collapsed," she nonchalantly explained, adding, "It healed up fine and happened a while back. Forgot all about it. Why, something wrong?" She widened her eyes slightly, trying to look vaguely worried and innocent in one.

Ishay studied her for a moment longer, then gave a shake of her head. "No… Like you said. It's healed well. Given time, the scars will probably fade completely."

Kara let her breath ease out. She'd know that those marks were the most likely things—short of what an x-ray might reveal—to lead to difficult questions. She breathed in and out when commanded, and had just completed a few moves to prove her legs' strength and flexibility when the office door burst open. A younger woman looked relieved to have found Ishay and oblivious to Kara's state of undress.

"Private Phelps' pulled his IV out again and I can't get the central line in on bed three and the doctor's still in surgery," the nurse said, looking harassed and exhausted.

"Ok, see about getting Adams to help you put restraints on Phelps, and I'll be right there," Ishay instructed before turning back to Kara. The senior assistant scrubbed at her face, and then said, "Look, I've got to go… You're significantly underweight, Captain, and we both know how important muscle mass is for a Viper pilot. You promise to hit the gym and eat three regulars a day and I'll sign off on your form."

"It's a deal," Starbuck said, relieved that she was being kicked loose without any further delving by the suspicious assistant. Pulling on her clothes, she reached for the proffered medical release but was startled when Ishay didn't immediately release the slip of paper.

Frak, now what?

"I still have to run your bloodwork. I'm not going to find any surprises, am I?" Ishay asked, eyes narrowing on Kara's green ones.

"Nothing that wasn't there before," she answered, tucking the get-out-of-sickbay-free slip away in her pocket.

As Kara relaced her boots, she heard Ishay call over her shoulder as the other woman hurried out, "Glad you're back and good hunting, Starbuck."

Kara sat for a minute absorbing the woman's words, wondering why she suddenly felt tears pricking her eyes.

Then she knew.

Those words were exactly the ones she longed to hear. They just hadn't come from any of the people she most needed to say them.