A/N: Since this is an AU work of fiction, I decided to rearrange the timeline slightly and tweak canon events to work with my story, instead of the other way around. So, yes. I'm playing fast and loose with canon here. I claim writer's privilege ;^)
Chapter 88 PowWow
Kara gave a noisy slurp as she sucked the bland gruel from the spoon while thinking how much better it would be if she only had a dollop of honey to add to it.
"You never learn any manners, Starbuck?" Sharon teased as she set aside her own empty bowl on the stand beside their beds.
"Sure. Pinky up when drinking Ambrosia, elbows off the table during Triad, and of course, a belch after a good meal," Kara replied, grinning across the space between them. "Notice…no belch. This slop doesn't deserve to be called food, let alone a good meal." Wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand, "See, manners intact."
She saw Sharon's expression shift as the darker woman cleared her throat before changing the subject. "So, you seem pretty rested this morning?" the casually spoken question belied by the intent look.
Kara felt her first impulse to deflect with a Starbuck-worthy retort ready to backflip off her tongue, but she bit it back, instead deciding to make an effort at talking since she'd promised as much the night before. "Pretty good, I guess… Woke just once," she paused, searching the fragments of memory from dreams she'd rather not recall. "It was D'Anna this time. She kept ordering me to do weird stuff, mostly house chores. Worse than a wife with her nagging. Dust this, wash that. And you know how I feeling about cleaning." She gave a weak laugh.
"Yeah, I know. Karl told me about your apartment," Sharon lightly said, then her tone went lower, "Guess it doesn't take a shrink to interpret that dream."
"Not so much." Kara stared across sickbay to where Cottle was leaning on a counter, scribbling on charts. "It was just a dream, though. Not…not like the others."
Sharon nodded and opened her mouth to speak when the alarm klaxon's sudden shrieking snapped her jaw closed. Both women looked at each other, feeling the conflict of training that demanded they respond to the flight deck and the knowledge that they were stuck in sickbay instead.
"I hate feeling this frakkin' useless," Kara muttered and worried her lip as she watched the sickbay staff rush to organize for possible incoming casualties. After a few minutes, she rose, intending to ask Ishay if she could do something—anything—to help, when an announcement echoed over the comm ordering Captain Thrace and Lieutenant Agathon to report to the War Room.
Kara didn't bother looking over her shoulder as she strode from sickbay, she knew Sharon, and her ever-present guard dog Sergeant Mathias, were bare steps behind her as they wove their way through Galactica's corridors.
Entering the War Room, she surveyed the tense officers gathered about the large display table. Kara gave a tug at her double tanks and wished she'd taken time to swing by her locker to change into a uniform, but the orders had said ASAP so she'd hurried here still in the running shorts she'd donned that morning in sickbay. As assorted faces looked her over on her entrance, she consoled herself that Athena, coming in just behind her, was likewise underdressed. Her gaze met the Admiral's and she flashed him a tight smile which he returned with a brisk nod.
The group must have been just waiting for their arrival because the Admiral immediately waved them forward and started to speak, "Yesterday, we landed a survey and collections team on the planet below us in hopes of finding a suitable food source." Adama tapped the display indicator before him. "The doctor's analysis is that the planet's flora & fauna aren't compatible with human physiology." Grim glances passed around the room at the bad news. All eyes returned to the Admiral as he continued, "While scouting the surrounding area, Chief Tyrol found an ancient temple that may be connected to the Thirteenth Tribe." He turned slightly to the woman at his side, "Madam President," indicating for her to take over.
"Thank you, Admiral," President Roslin said. "The scrolls of Pythia speak of a temple where the Eye of Jupiter would be found and point the way to Earth. It appears that Mr. Tyrol has found that temple. He is currently inspecting the site with support from Major Adama and his team."
Starbuck's eyes narrowed as she listened. This was the first she'd heard of any temple, and it explained why Lee wasn't at the briefing. A small knot in her chest eased as she realized that the reason she'd not seen him since the incident in sickbay wasn't because he was avoiding her. A desire to be down with him on the surface and exploring the planet had her shifting her weight restlessly from foot to foot until she caught herself and quickly suppressed the feeling, forcing herself back to stilled attention as the President continued.
"They've not discovered the Eye as of yet…and our time may have just come to an end." Roslin quirked a brow at the Admiral, and he took back up from there.
"Four Cylon basestars jumped into orbit ten minutes ago. The Cylons remained outside of weapons range and didn't launch their Raiders. Instead, I received a communication proposing a temporary truce." Starbuck's raised brow wasn't the only expression of surprise around the table at that news. Her eyebrows drew down in a frown at his next words. "They've agreed to not launch their fighters as long as we don't try to retrieve our people from the planet. They're sending over a delegation to discuss their terms." With a glance at the time display on the wall, he added, "They'll arrive in thirty minutes. So, I want thoughts, ideas, and plans, people."
The Cylons are coming here. They want something. Maybe more than just one something, the thoughts spiked an ice sliver just under Kara's breastbone. She suddenly felt the Admiral's eyes fix on her. Forcing her gaze to remain firm beneath his discerning stare, she took a supporting breath and spoke into the silence, "They know about the Eye…and want it for themselves." When both the Admiral and President nodded in agreement, she continued, "We can't let them have it. If it's really the key to finding Earth, we can't let them get it."
"No, that can't be allowed," President Roslin said, her lips compressing in distaste.
The Admiral looked from one woman to the other. "We'll blow the temple before letting that happen," he grimly agreed, then dropped his gaze to glare at the displayed icons of the basestars and the planet they orbited.
Kara sucked in a breath as the full import of his words registered. If the temple was destroyed, the Cylons would certainly attack both the Galactica and those still stranded on the planet. At odds of four to one, chances were slim of recovering their landing party before the Galactica would be forced to jump away.
And Lee was down there.
[ I I I I I ]
After settling on what quick and dirty contingency plans they'd managed to come up with in a bare twenty minutes, the Admiral had given her and Athena permission to quickly change into their uniforms if they could be back before the Cylon delegation arrived.
As she had turned to hurry off, the Old Man had gripped her elbow and quietly offered to let her skip the meeting with the Cylons. The worry in his gaze had stiffened her spine and she'd given a shake of the head, answering his unspoken question with an, "I'm fine, really." Then, when he still searched her face, she'd added, "And I promise not to shoot any of them. At least not without orders, Sir." She'd forced one of her trademark Starbuck smirks to her lips and had seen his expression ease.
Now, as she jogged back towards the War Room while trying to button her blue dress top, nausea stirred the gruel she had eaten for breakfast such a short time ago. And her stomach wasn't the only part of her wanting to rebel. She found her strides faltering as she wondered which Cylon models they'd send. Stumbling to an abrupt halt, she leaned back against a support beam in the thankfully empty corridor and bent forward with her hands on her knees, fighting to control her breaths, starting to hyperventilate at the thought of facing any of her tormentors again.
"Frak, frak, frak,, frak," she said with each gulp of air. Then Kara slammed her palms against the metal behind her. Feeling a sting along her right hand, she lifted it and saw a smear of blood from a gouge along her thumb pad. "Great. Just frakkin' great," she muttered, pressing palm to her mouth, the taste of copper from the wound both familiar and strangely comforting. She felt the pain crowd the panic aside. I can do this. I can do this, she repeated silently, the mantra helping her to concentrate on slowing her breaths like Cottle had shown her.
"Captain Thrace?" Mathias' voice brought Kara's head up with a jolt. She'd actually gotten so use to the other woman's presence that she'd forgotten she had been tagging along behind Kara.
"I'm fine," she assured her guard, and then forced her feet to carry her forward again.
With her panic attack under control, Kara dropped her hand to her side as she entered the War Room again and moved to where the President stood consulting with her assistant, Tory. The darker woman made a few more scribbles on her pad, then hurried from the room. As Kara stepped into the now vacant space beside the President, she drew an unexpected comfort from the older woman's presence as she met Laura's measuring smile with a twist up of her own lips—the best she could manage.
She saw the brown eyes sharpen and the President said, "Captain, you have something on your lip," gesturing to her own to indicate the offending smudge. Flushing, Kara carefully kept her injured hand at her side, using her left to wipe at her mouth, then gave a questioning look.
"You got it," Laura confirmed, then reached forward to grip Kara's right hand, giving her a slight squeeze probably meant to convey support. The older woman must have felt the dampness, for she released her grip and looked down at her own fingers. The blotch of red on their slender tips was visible to both women. As the dark eyes jerked up to meet green ones, Kara kept hers from dropping beneath the other's scrutinizing regard, even when Laura's low voice asked, "Kara, are you really up for this?"
"I'm good. Look, it's just a scratch. I was rushing and caught it on a corner on the way here." She didn't know if Laura believed her, but she must have decided to let the matter drop for she casually wiped the crimson off on the underside of her hem and turned towards the hatch as a Marine stepped through.
Kara stiffened as she recognized the forms that followed the soldier's entrance. Reminding herself to breath, she concentrated on keeping the rhythm a steady three count on the inhale and another with each exhale. A Cavil model led the way with a Three on his heels. She didn't know if it was D'Anna or not, but the sight of the familiar face further constricted Kara's throat. She tore her gaze from the hated face to the bearded one that stepped through next.
Baltar! Still alive after New Caprica. Too bad.
At a commotion in the hall, she craned her neck and could just see past the traitorous ex-President to where Athena was confronting a mirror of herself.
All the occupants of the room heard Athena say, "That's Boomer," to Colonel Tigh as she moved to blocked the Eight's entrance.
"Well, you just lost your visiting privileges," Tigh drawled, then, "Hold that thing here until we get back." Starbuck saw the guards jerk their guns up, their warning explicit in the steady muzzles. Tigh obviously decided not to allow the ex-Colonial officer to join the negotiations as he pulled the hatch shut behind him, cutting off her view and pulling her attention back to the three visitors that now stood in front of the Admiral.
Cavil's gaze was impersonal as it swept across the room's occupants, not so D'Anna's—and Kara knew then that this was D'Anna when the Cylon woman's lips lifted with just the slightest of knowing smirks when her eyes fell on Starbuck.
Forcing herself to meet her tormentor's gaze and not shift, Kara wet dry lips then immediately cursed herself as the despised grin spread just enough to confirm that the Cylon had seen her nervous action.
Her attention shifted as Baltar sidled forward, trying to engage Roslin. If Kara hadn't held such contempt for the traitor, she might have felt pity as the man tried to make a desperate connection with his fellow humans. Laura rebuffed him with such disdain that Gauis flinched and moved back with defeated steps to stand beside his Cylon companions.
As Cavil, D'Anna, the President and Admiral traded demands and ultimatums, Kara let their words pass over her. She shouldn't be here. Had nothing to add, except maybe to act as a distraction, though she was afraid it was the human pair she was more likely to distract. To prevent that, she kept her stance passive and her eyes firmly focused away from the Cylon delegation. Her thoughts drifted to the planet below and Lee. The hurried contingency plans they'd devised for recovering the landing party were long shots at best, there were just too many of enemy and not enough time. And Kara knew what that meant for Lee, the Chief and her other friends trapped on the surface if shooting broke out between the Galactica and the basestars.
As the President shifted at her side, Kara realized that the sides had come to an impasse and the meeting was over. She looked over at the Cylon woman and knew it was a mistake as D'Anna locked eyes with her again and took a step forward.
"How's the mini-Starbuck? Kacey, right?" the voice falsely solicitous.
Kara took her own step into the space between before answering, "You lost on New Caprica. You'll lose today." The fear was gone now, in its place, smoldering hate fanned the embers of her anger. With a control she hadn't realized she'd regained, Kara kept those flames banked, refusing to them flashover into an attack.
D'Anna tilted her head slightly as she said, "I'd say you were pretty thoroughly beaten on New Caprica, wouldn't you," malice lacing the words.
"That's enough!" the Admiral's harsh voice cut through the encounter. "Guards, get these people off my ship." The Marines snapped forward, ready to enforce their commander's orders with guns aggressively raised.
As D'Anna turned to follow the other two, she paused long enough to aim over her shoulder, "Leoben sends his love," and the ready smirk returned to her face as she saw by Kara's stricken look that her shot had hit dead center. Apparently satisfied, the Cylon strode after her companions.
Laura reached a hand out and laid it on the Kara's forearm. At the contact, she flinched and backed away from the pair of worried faces.
"Kara," both the man and woman called to her as her eyes darted about the room for an escape.
As they moved towards her, Kara raised a hand, "Don't. I… I just need… I need a minute." Though the Admiral looked ready to protest, Kara saw him stop when Laura touched his hand. The older woman slowly nodded and Kara gave her a grateful look.
All three turned as Gaeta entered, his expression anxious as his eyes shifted between the Admiral and President. Kara heard Adama sigh then address the junior officer, "What is it Mr. Gaeta?"
"Sir, I've been running an extensive analysis of the star system's primary. I checked the results…three times," he thrust a sheet towards Adama. Kara was tempted to try to read over the Admiral's shoulder whatever it was that had the younger man so agitated. Restraining the impulse, she scrutinized her Admiral as his eyes tracked down the report, seeing their narrowing and how his lips thinned as he passed the report on to the President.
"So, this system's sun could to go nova at anytime?" the Admiral said.
Kara straightened at his words, other matters forgotten.
Frak! As if Cylons weren't enough.
"Yes, Sir. I mean it could be in a day…or a year. But once the cascade begins, we'll only have about twenty minutes to jump before the planet, and every other thing within range is obliterated."
"Thank you, Lieutenant." Turning to Roslin, "I'll notify Lee of the situation, see what can be done to secure the site. If the sun starts to go though…we'll have to blow the temple—whether the Chief's found the Eye or not—and hope to retrieve our people before we're forced to jump."
Adjusting her glasses, Laura replied, "I understand, Bill. We'll just have to pray that that doesn't become necessary."
Laura quirked a brow at him when he replied, "I'll leave that in your good hands then."
As Kara watched the interaction, and saw an intimacy between the pair she hadn't noticed before, it made her uncomfortable and yet…sort of happy. They deserved what comfort they could find in each other. The temporary warmth of the recognition of their relationship faded as the waves of anxiety D'Anna had left in her wake surged forward again.
With the pressure building in her chest, Kara searched for something to do to relieve it before she was swept into another panic attack. Still grounded, she had no place on the flight deck. And she'd already given the Admiral her best ideas so he didn't need her in CIC. So, until the Chief found the Eye, the stalemate with the Cylons was likely to go on for hours or even days. The need to do something, anything, to deal with the turbulent whirlpool of emotions the Cylons' presence had stirred within her had Kara snapping into an attention stance, drawing the Admiral's eyes her way.
"Sir, do you need anything else?"
"No, that's all, Captain."
"Kara," Laura's voice drew her gaze reluctantly to the older woman. "We have a little time to talk if you'd like," she offered.
"Thanks, but I've something I've got to do." Kara didn't miss the disappointed look that passed between the pair. Meeting the eye's of her surrogate father, she added, "I wanted to thank you for the paints, Sir. They helped." She knew he'd understood her when the worry eased from his eyes and he gave a nod of approval.
"I'm glad. In that case, proceed, Captain."
As she turned from the pair, she trusted that he'd fill Laura in on the gift and that she was astute enough to understand what it meant for Kara. Hurrying from the room, she glanced around the corridor, empty save for the stoically waiting Sergeant Mathias. Kara briefly wondered where Athena had disappeared to since their Cylons guests had been kicked off the ship.
Her long strides made short work of the trip to the civilian area of the ship. Now that she stood before the open hatch to the childcare room, excited chattering skipped to her ears as she stared at the barely controlled chaos within. The noise by itself should have driven her away, and yet… It was so different… So out of tune with the internal voices whose mocking she was trying to silence, that it was mesmerizing, had a siren quality that insisted that she respond. Step by hesitant step, Kara waded into the current of laughing and playing children.
She had nearly sidled her way to the lockers, when she was accosted by an older teenaged girl holding a little boy.
"Hi ya. You Captain Thrace then?" asked the dark-haired youth as she shifted the squirming child's weight to her hip. "Nancy said you might stop by. Today's kinda wild. But you should so stay. Can't promise quiet. Well, I could but I'd be lying so why bother. I'll try to keep the kids from pestering you. Course, no promises there either," the girl cheerily rattled on, oblivious to the toddler's attempts to get down. "I'm Tammy, by the way. Tammy Turvo. Of the Turvo Picons." The girl's expression closed over for a moment with remembered loss. At least it stopped the torrent of words and allowed Kara to edge away, putting distance between herself the adolescent before Tammy could start prattling on again.
"I'm just, uh, gonna to stay for a little while," Kara said.
"Sure, no problem." The teenager's attention finally turned to the bundle in her arms as the boy pointed behind her. "If any of the kids get to bothering you, just give me a holler," she said as she hurried off towards a group of three boys whose voices were rising above the general din of the room.
Casting another look about the busy, noise-drenched space, Kara wondered if she really wanted to stay. She pulled the chain from about her neck and squeezed the ring, locker key…and dual set of dog tags tightly in her fist as she closed her eyes. The chattering and energy of the room again wove its spell and she could feel the loosening of the tangled net of emotions that had been strangling her since seeing D'Anna.
So, with the tackle box and fresh canvas in hand, she turned from her locker and setup her supplies. With the first stroke of turquoise another line of the stifling net twanged apart. Swirls and dabs flowed beneath her hand as everything else faded away.