Chapter 63 Unsettled

Kara found out the next morning why Lee hadn't been available the night before.

She hadn't been awake when the Admiral finally returned to the cabin last night; it had obviously been very late and she'd already taken the sleeping pill and hadn't heard him. So, the first time she had an opportunity to grill him was over breakfast. He'd been hesitant at first to admit that a group, including Lee and Athena, had been exposed to some type of virus and had spent the last twelve hours in quarantine. Rising from her chair, she'd been ready to rush off to sickbay when his voice had stopped her, telling her that they'd all been cleared and Lee had gone back to his quarters and his waiting wife.

Maybe it was the way the Old Man had stressed the word wife, but Kara had the distinct impression that he was giving her a warning of sorts. Whatever the case, she'd subsided back into her seat and had finished her meal without further conversation.

Throughout her maintenance shift, she kept casting glances around, watching for Lee in case he showed up on the flight deck. He didn't. His absence left her agitated and snappish. The Chief finally assigned her to work alone on one of the Raptors that was thought to be unsalvageable. His choice of jobs hadn't done anything to improve her mood since she decided he'd given her the project, not because of any exceptional mechanical skills on her part, no, but probably figuring that she couldn't do the out-of-commission craft any further harm, despite her current temper.

So it was that Kara was hidden by the tail section of the shuttle when two junior knuckledraggers strolled by, gossiping over the latest rumors. Her attention sharpened when she heard Apollo's name crop up. As she pieced together the partial conversation, Kara went rigid. Then the temporary paralysis released her and she darted around the ship to confront the pair, demanding they repeat what they'd heard.

As her determined strides carried her from the bay with the ever present shadow of Sergeant Mathias quickly following, the Chief approached the shaken young men and asked what had happened. Tyrol's expression was grim as he hurried to the flight deck's nearest phone.

[ I I I I I ]

Kara stood with hands clenched behind her back, a bare two inches from the one-way viewing window of the Cylon holding cell. Despite her nearness to the glass, her body was arched slightly away, conveying the conflict of her emotions. A part of her wanted to be as far away from the group of four Cylon prisoners as possible, yet she had to fight against a savage undercurrent that urged her to go inside and tear them apart. She held herself in place, precariously balanced between the disparate needs.

Through narrowed eyes, she scrutinized the quartet. They were all obviously sick and suffering, just as the deckhand had said. The Admiral's attempt to keep the presence of the prisoners a secret hadn't worked, and Kara bitterly wondered if he'd tried to keep the information from everyone…or just her. Replaying their breakfast conversation from that morning, the small hesitations she hadn't caught at the time were glaringly obvious now. His distrust prodded at the partially healed wound that was their relationship, and she worked her jaw, trying to ignore the hurt of his evasion. He was the Admiral, after all. He wasn't obligated to tell her anything.

Yet…didn't she have the right to know that some of the models that had demolished her life were on Galactica?

Surveying the cell, she saw that it had been stripped except for a table and a pair of cots; her gaze linger on the Simon and Sharon models where they were sprawled together on one of the cot. As she noticed that her hand was unconsciously rubbing at the lower scar on her abdomen, Kara jerked it away and held her arms stiff at her side. A twitch started in her cheek as her eyes settled on the second cot in the cell. The lanky Six was laying face down and shudders were visibly racking her thin frame.

As the image of another Six superimposed over the one in the cell, Kara retreated a step. Closing her eyes, she licked suddenly dry lips and swallowed, trying to work some moisture back into her mouth. When she looked again, the room had righted itself and the Cylon woman was just another copy and not the one that had made each day a test of survival.

Kara took a breath and let her reluctant gaze edge sideways until the male form hunched over the room's single table became her sole focus. The Two was as still as his brethren, only the strained rise and fall of his chest giving proof that he still lived. The Cylon's posture was so like the first time that she'd seen him, that Kara had to blink to shake loose the sense of déjà vu.

Different memories of Leoben—and ominous gaps—stirred her, and the turbulent ride of the emotions made Kara's stomach drop. Her breathing quickened into harsh rasps and she felt more than heard steps draw near behind her. Letting her attention shift only long enough to identify Sergeant Mathias, Kara fixated again on her tormentor that sat a bare ten feet from her.

This bastard…all of them, in fact…had taken months of her life and made them a blackhole of purgatory so dense that it had drawn her in and held her even after she'd left the physical mud of New Caprica far behind. Kara remembered telling the Admiral that dust was all that remained of her world, and now, seeing the personification of her nightmares before her, she could feel her foundation starting to shift from beneath her again. Fighting against it, she stoked her anger, heaping all the bundled memories of pain atop the growing bonfire of her rage.

What she needed now was justice. Let others call it vengeance. She didn't give a flying frak what they thought since here, within reach and vulnerable, were the four most responsible for her summits of pain. Through the deepening haze of her fury, she wondered if the Cylons had ever heard the phrase 'payback's a bitch'. If not, she was about to introduce them to it.

Turning to the Sergeant beside her, "Give me your gun," Starbuck ordered, hand outstretched.

"Sir, I can't. You know I can't," Mathias warily said, her apprehension visible to Kara despite her preoccupation with the foursome inside.

"I gave you an order, Sergeant." Starbuck moved into the Marine's personal space. "Give me your sidearm right frakkin' now!"

The older soldier took a half pace back while raising a warning palm. Kara saw Mathias' quick jerk of the head to the young man assigned to guard the prisoners. But, so focused on her goal, she didn't see him hurriedly lift the ship phone, and his voice was lost in the building rage that muffled Kara's senses. Her attention was so narrowed on the obstacle to her retribution that she was blind and deaf to all else.

"I can't let you shoot the prisoners, Captain," she heard Mathias say, and Starbuck flexed her hands in disbelief.

She couldn't? Hell, she ought to be frakkin' offering to hold em for me!

Face twisting with the pressure of her need, "GIVE ME YOUR GODSDAMNED GUN!" Starbuck shouted and started to swipe at the hand in front of her. Her arm met with open air as the Marine retreated another step, taking a defensive stance with her holstered side angled away.

Pushed to action by frustration, Starbuck moved into Mathias, trying to reach around for the sidearm only to find herself denied again as the Marine's palms smacked into her upper chest, the impact thrusting Kara back. With the blow, the last of her control snapped and she was about to lunge into a full attack when a sharp voice impaled her in place.

"Starbuck! Stand down!" Apollo barked out.

As the moment of paralysis passed, she whirled to face the CAG, face taut and hands still half raised, poised to fight.

"Kara, stop it right there," he said, voice dropping in volume but not losing any of its authority.

"They're mine," she spat at him, determined not to be cheated of her portion of justice this time.

"No, they're not," Lee firmly contradicted. "The Admiral has plans for them, and even if he didn't, I couldn't let you do this. We don't torture and murder prisoners, Captain."

"Right. Since when?" her tone mocking now. "The Admiral didn't mind when he wanted to know about the nuke Leoben said he'd planted. And the President… Well, she was quick enough airlock his Cylon ass once she was done with him." Intent on her own anger, Kara barely registered Lee's flinch before continuing. "So, I don't know what's your frakkin' problem, Adama?" Pointing at the figures behind the window, she went on, "Cause I owe them a debt of hurt. And I'm ready to pay it back in kind. So help me or get the frak out of my way."

She started to step towards the cell door, figuring that she didn't need a gun anyways; from the looks of them, the Cylons were too weak to put up much of a fight…and it wouldn't be the first time she'd put a skin-job down with her bare hands.

Jolted to a halt by the body suddenly imposed in her path, Kara rocked back.

"No, Kara. Not like this." He grasped her shoulders.

Shrugging him off, "Why not, Lee? Huh? I think its an excellent idea." She gave a mirthless smile, head cocked slightly to the side. "Consider it therapy. I'm just gonna work through my issues. One Cylon at a time." She moved to go around him.

"No," he said, again blocking her way.

"Why do you care if I speed these four along to their god?" Kara asked, trying to understand why he was so insistent on protecting the enemy. She knew first hand that there were no holds barred—on either side—when it came to the treatment of the prisoners of this war. Challenging his troubled gaze, Kara defied him to give her a legitimate reason to deny her this.

"I don't care. Not about them." He lifted a hand to her hair, but she batted it away. He ignored the rebuff, and fiercely said, "You. I care about you. And, what you're planning to do," jerking his head towards the cell, "it'll mess you up, Kara."

Her incredulous laugh rolled the air between them. "Too late, Major, or haven't you been paying attention. Kara Thrace already boarded that shuttle. So, see, no harm. And the world will be less a few Cylon copies just a little sooner."

Lee's expression turned from concerned to grim, and his hand fell to his side as he straightened. "It doesn't matter, Captain. The Admiral has his own plans for the prisoners, and soon enough there won't be any copies left anywhere."

"What the hell are you talking about?" she demanded, and watched as Lee's blue eyes became opaque as he gave a furtive glance at the silently watching Mathias and the young guard. He inhaled, and she could see him come to a decision.

"In about four hours from now, the Galactica's going to jump into an area where a reconnaissance flight's found a Cylon fleet with a resurrection ship." Kara's brows lifted in surprise. "Once we're within range, we'll execute the prisoners and jump away. Within a few weeks, no more Cylons and the war's over." As her brows furrowed in confusion, Lee must have realized she didn't have the vaguest idea why killing the Cylon prisoners then would make a difference. "Cottle says these," he glanced towards the cell, "have a virus that'll kill them all. Once they download, they'll spread the infection throughout their fleet and beyond."

Her eyes widened and Kara looked over his shoulder at the occupants, seeing again the signs of illness in their pain and sweat-stained countenance. No more Cylons. After all this time running and fighting, the idea seemed incomprehensible to her.

"We're immune?" she asked before realizing how stupid the question was.

"Like the President or dad would risk it otherwise," his grim reply mocked her.

Kara shook her head, still trying to come to grips with this new information. Yet, in a way, it made her need more immediate. Without the prospect of Raiders to blow from the sky in the future, what other form could her retribution take? Her gaze sharpened as she considered Lee's words.

"Just give me Leoben then," she said. "You don't need all of them, right?" At Lee's disbelieving look, "Come on, Lee. What's it matter if I do him, or some guard?" she demanded, flicking a look at the young soldier shifting uncomfortably behind the duty officer's desk.

"Gods, Kara, don't you get it? It's wrong."

"Bullshit. Dead's dead," she said, then corrected herself, "Most of time anyways."

"It's not going to happen," he grimly said, shaking his head to emphasis his decision.

"Fine. Thanks for all your help, Major." She ignored the way he winced at her biting tone. "I'll just leave you here with your rules and morals all intact. Don't worry yourself on my behalf, Sir." She snapped him a salute with all military precision, yet managed to convey her contempt at the same time. As she strode away, she heard Lee instructing Mathias to stay with her, as if she had any hope of shaking the interfering guard.