Chapter 45 Retreat
Over the next few days, Kara withdrew even further into herself. Her meals, when she bothered with them, were in and out sessions in the mess. She'd find an unoccupied table, swallow what she could in ten minutes and leave. In the hanger bay, she never bantered or joked, and just stared silently if anyone tried to broach a subject other than whatever task she was currently working on. She kept her eyes averted and pretended not to notice the concerned looks she received from the Chief and Cally.
And she'd taken to avoiding Helo at all costs after he'd tried to talk to her in the gym late one night.
The one exception was the nightly triad games. She and Colonel Tigh, once bitter enemies, found themselves bonding over their biting comments aimed at those that had stayed behind on Galactica. The pair fed each other on vitriol, and, if their words were corroding the attempts to restore the cohesiveness of Galactica's crew, neither seemed to care. To the onlookers, it appeared that Starbuck was drinking to excess like usual. What they didn't know was that the flask she swigged from throughout the night was filled with water.
Saul Tigh knew, though.
Over the years, he'd spent too many hours scrutinizing Starbuck not to know when she was stone cold sober. He kept her secret, and her sullen looks and remarks kept everyone else from peering closer.
Each night, after the card game broke up, Kara still went to the gym, only avoiding it if Helo or one of the other pilots were already there. With three gyms on the Galactica, she could usually find one uninhabited in the late hours of the night. There were times, though, when the gym was unappealing, or she just needed to be…someplace else. At those times, Kara would slink off into the crates and her hiding spot. If she thought she could get away with it, she'd have gladly moved down there just to get away from the sideways looks and whispers of her bunkmates. Since that wasn't really an option, she only sought out her secret place when the pressure to run became overpowering.
[ I I I I I ]
Kara's deepening isolation didn't go unnoticed.
Racetrack had filled Helo in about the shower incident and he had briefly considered the idea of approaching Lee, but had quickly nixed it once he'd heard of the CAG's reaction to her report and, really, anything having to do with Kara at all.
On multiple occasions since, he'd tried to get Kara alone to talk, but she gotten deft at either slipping away whenever she saw him coming or ignoring him entirely when in a group. With the settling of the New Caprican refugees and trying to reintegrate the returning crew, Karl was so busy that he let his concern for his friend slide to the back burner.
He did consider—as a last resort—approaching either the Admiral or Doc Cottle. Yet, what was he to tell them? That Starbuck just wasn't herself. That, since she wouldn't talk to him, something was wrong.
Besides, once you brought in the big guns, there was no going back.
The decision was taken away when the Admiral confronted him about morale on the flight deck. Helo told Adama about the Colonel and Starbuck's divisive comments, but he had hesitated to elaborate about the other incidents. After all, he was sure that once the Old Man had spoken with Kara, he'd see for himself that something else was going on with her.
So he thought.