Chapter 39 Encounter
Ten days had passed now since their escape from New Caprica and Kara knew she was spiraling down, but was finding it difficult to care anymore. That evening, or very early the next day depending on how you figured it, Kara found it was all she could do to brace her hands on the card table and push herself upright. The other crewmembers, including a weaving Tigh, had gone off to their racks some time ago, leaving her to finish the second bottle of the Chief's latest batch of rotgut on her own.
She had sought out the nightly triad game, and accompanying booze, with the hope to drink enough to keep the nightmares away tonight and sleep in her own rack for a change. She was so frakkin' tired, yet didn't want to close her eyes. And it was humiliating, not being able to sleep because the thought of dreaming terrified her. So, tonight she was determined to get so soused that her brain would give them all a night off.
And if it worked, then great! After all, it wasn't like she had to worry about being flight ready. Guess there were some benefits to being grounded.
Stumbling into the corridor, Starbuck paused, leaning heavily on the bulkhead as she tried to remember where it was she was going. The main gym was just across the way, and seeing it stirred a longing. She and Helo had spent a lot of hours in there together, working out and just being friends. Gods, she missed him. Wanted to see him. He might know what to do with her frakked up head.
She wove her way down the deserted hallway, proud that she only bounced off the bulkhead twice on her trek to Helo's shared quarters. Pounding on the hatch, she forgot for a moment why she was here. Right, yeah…Helo. When the metal door was finally opened a few inches, it wasn't her tall friend peering cautiously out. Nope, not her luck… It was the Toaster wife... The fake woman he'd shacked up with. Frak. Just her great frakkin' luck.
"Helo here," Kara said, only slurring a little as she pushed the hatch open and stumbled inside, not waiting for Sharon to invite her in.
"What the frak, Kara? It's 3 am." the petite brunette grumbled as she ran a hand through her tousled hair and glared.
Ignoring her, Kara squinted about the tiny cabin before turning back to face the Cylon woman. "Where is he? Where's Karl?" she demanded, the slurring getting worse in her frustration at his absence.
"He's pulling third shift this week." Sharon moved closer to Kara, giving her a once over and frowning. "You're trashed, Starbuck. You should go sleep it off."
The beast of anger that had been denied a legitimate target stalked from the fog of alcohol.
"Shuddup! Don' take orders from frakk'n Toasters. No more," she snarled while jabbing a finger into Sharon's chest for emphasis. Kara's eyes narrowed as anger surged past the shaky barriers she'd been holding in place since her rescue. This skin-job was just like the others, thought she was better than everyone else, thought she could tell her what to do and she'd just roll over and take it. Take it like she had in that hellhole. Like she had with…
Kara abruptly slammed against the wall of those particular memories, then refocused on the Boomer-shaped Eight blurring in front of her. No. No frakk'n more. She felt the rage narrow her vision to the Cylon woman, rimming everything in red as she leaned in at the smaller figure.
[ I I I I I ]
Sharon's unease ratcheted up as Kara loomed over her, menace oozing from the blonde's pores along with the strong smell of booze. Finding a very drunk Starbuck on her doorstep in the middle of the night was disconcerting enough, but facing the volatile woman as rage darkened her jade eyes was a level of 'not good' beyond which she wanted to handle on her own. What a time for Karl to be stuck in CIC covering for a sick crewman.
"Back off right now, Captain," she said, hoping the use of Kara's rank might get through to the inebriated woman.
Unfortunately, it only seemed to enrage her more.
How someone as drunk as Starbuck obviously was could move so fast, Sharon didn't know, but she found herself slammed up against the wall with Kara's hands about her throat, squeezing as she yelled in Sharon's face.
"Don't tell me what to do, frakk'n Toaster. Told you to SHUT THE FRAK UP!" Kara's face was flushed as she tightened her hold, and Sharon felt fear as it became painfully difficult to breathe. This woman might look like Starbuck, but the contorted face and glazed eyes held nothing of the Kara she remembered from before New Caprica. Sharon suddenly knew she was in real danger. Sure, if she died now, she'd download on some basestar, but that was an unacceptable outcome.
Swinging both arms around and down at once, Sharon drove her elbows into the bend of Kara's arms, breaking the chokehold. She reversed directions and shot her right fist into an uppercut that snapped the blonde head back and dropped Kara to the floor, unconscious.
Sharon coughed and rubbed at her sore neck as she stared at the still form at her feet, wondering what the hell to do now. She hadn't planned to knock her out, only to break free. Considering how much Starbuck obviously had had to drink, it wasn't surprising that the single blow had laid her out cold, though.
What to do with her now? Sharon knew she should call a guard and have her taken to the brig. But that would make the attack an official assault, with all the messy complications that'd ensue. No. Last thing either of them needed was negative attention from the powers-that-be. She'd worked too damned hard earning the Admiral's trust to risk it now, and knowing how he felt about Kara, it was a risk that he might blame Sharon for any trouble between them.
Deciding on a course of action, Sharon got a wet cloth and wiped Kara's face, seeing the eyelashes flicker. Tossing the rag aside, she gave a few light slaps that roused the blonde enough that Sharon was able to heave her upright and support the majority of her weight as they stumbled back to the pilot's bunkroom.
Sneaking into the quiet cabin, Sharon winced as Kara's head knocked against the bunk's edge as she lowered the woman onto the bed. Starbuck was going to have the mother of hangovers in the morning and Sharon wondered if she'd even remember her visit to Helo's quarters. Might be best for them both if she didn't. She hated the thought of coming between her husband and his friend, and she knew that Karl would choose her if it ever came to it, yet, she also knew how much it would hurt him to turn his back on Kara.
Sharon put her hands on her hips and glanced around to see if anyone had noticed them. The bunkroom was thankfully silent except for the sounds of deep breathing and the occasional rustle of blankets as their occupants shifted. Standing in this room where so many memories from Boomer's previous life involved the blonde woman before her, Sharon's own anger at Kara leached away.
With a quiet sigh, she undid the laces and removed Starbuck's military boots, setting them carefully beside her rack where they'd be easily found later. Snagging the rumpled blanket from the foot of the bed, Sharon draped it over the still form, then left, feeling she'd done all she could for the troubled woman she'd once called a friend.