Chapter 95 Smackdown

Kara had been back on full flight duty barely a week when the alarm klaxon sounded, sending all hands to Condition One and her racing for her Viper. The practiced chaos of the flight deck barely touched her as she vaulted into the tight cockpit and flew through her pre-flight checklist with speed born from years of repetition. Then she was in the launch tube and propelled into the dark universe where spangling pricks of explosions heralded the resumption of the war between Cylons and Humans.

As Starbuck surveyed the bedlam spread before her, her palms became clammy within her flight gloves, and she wondered if she really was ready. It had been a year and a half since she'd last targeted Cylon Raiders through her gun sights.

Frak this!

She flung her ship into the fray, pulling into line on an enemy that was dogging the tail of a fellow Viper. Squeezing the trigger, she strafed the darkness with glowing beads of destruction. "Splash one," she yelled, exhilaration charging her nerves as the Cylon's ship blew apart beneath the barrage of her guns.

"Thanks, Starbuck," came the relieved voice of Hotdog over her comm, then, "Good to have you dancing with us again, Cap," the younger pilot said, before veering away after an enemy ship.

Starbuck pinned her sights on a sleek Raider off her ten o'clock and kicked the burners of her Viper after her prey. Spinning and weaving amongst the enemy, she shredded one Cylon fighter after another.

"Frak! We just lost Jouster," Apollo cursed over the comm as a Viper exploded across the tar-painted spacescape.

Starbuck's guts clenched as she saw the debris from the mangled Colonial ship reeling away. In her momentary distraction, she didn't to notice a Raider swing along her axis. An instinct too deep to question warned her at the last moment, and she tossed her ship into a roll before she even knew where the threat was coming from. As the enemy's shots strafed across her bow, the majority missed due to her split second maneuver, but a few punched through the front portion of the Viper, causing sparks across the control panels as the ship's systems took damage.

"I'm hit!" she called out, even as she continued to twist her craft away from the Raider's fire. Experienced eyes took inventory of her systems' status as she sought to shake the enemy from her six.

"Starbuck, Apollo. Report status," in her ear, the familiar voice demanded a sitrep.

"No joy on weapons control. It's shot to hell," Starbuck said, all the time keeping her ship slicing through the blackness, tossing herself into turns to keep any more oncoming rounds from striking her. "Green on everything else."

"Can you make the barn?" worry edged into his voice.

"Just have to shake some uninvited company," she answered.

"Frak! Who can close on Starbuck?" On hearing Apollo's call for aid on her behalf, Starbuck grimaced—as if she couldn't handle it on her own.

"Negative, Apollo. I've got this," she said even as she pulled to the side to avoid another round of tracer fire.

Seeing a diamond formation of Raiders inbound, a tight smirk crossed her lips as she circled her path towards them at an oblique approach, constantly jockeying her mount through evasive maneuvers to prevent the pursuing Cylon from getting a firm lock. Nearing the grouped enemy that was as yet unaware of her oncoming form, she reduced speed, drawing the following Raider closer.

Ahead, the enemy force abruptly wheeled, finally registering her as a threat. They opened fire as a unit. Shaft streaked towards her even as she suddenly reared her Viper, lunging out of the path of the barrage that continued beyond to shred the pursuing Raider. Despite the darkness rimming her sight from the heavy gees, Starbuck saw the debris from the disintegrating Raider stream through the enemies' formation, causing havoc of its own. Enough of a distraction to allow her time to race away from the confused Cylon group.

Feeling sweat trickle into her eyes, Starbuck blinked rapidly to clear her stinging vision and wished that she could wipe at the annoying perspiration. Swinging her ship towards the safety of the Galactica, she took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the canned air of flight suit.

Her comm crackled with Kat's voice as the other pilot anxiously reported that she'd lost an engine and needed backup to shake the Raider on her tail. Searching the miniature Dradis screen on her control panel, Starbuck located the other woman's ship indicator.

Godsdamnit! No help but me close enough, and I can't even spit at the frakkers.

As she sized up the situation, a crazy idea seized her, and she wheeled her Viper away from the safety of the Battlestar, and kicked towards the dancing figures of Kat and her pursuer.

"Kat, Starbuck. I'm on a reciprocal course," she called to her frantically evading shipmate. "Maintain heading. On my mark, drive down hard." she calmly ordered.

"Copy Starbuck, down on mark," came the stressed reply.

Over her comm, she heard Apollo's irate voice, "What areyou doing, Starbuck?" he demanded. "You've got no guns!"

Ignoring his words, she narrowed her awareness to the two oncoming ships and her part in their dance of death. A grim smile settled on her face as she found the place of centered calm within. She was in the zone now, and the Viper was an extension of her body that she controlled it with deft expertise. With anticipation coursing through her veins, Starbuck raced to confront the enemy that strove to snuff the life from another of her shipmates.

Let it come.

She focused on Kat, watching as the younger pilot desperately slewed her ship from side to side to avoid the fire from the gaining Raider. Nudging her own ship slightly to the right, Starbuck lined herself on a collision course with Kat's Viper—and the closing Cylon right behind her.

"Kat, on my mark," she said, voice reassuringly calm. "Just…a little…closer. Mark!" she called out.

The other Viper dove below her own at the last possible moment.

Then she was face-to-red eye with the oncoming Raider. The enemy ship had started to slant downward after the evading Viper, but Starbuck came directly at it, and then yanked her stick back, forcing her ship's nose into a ninety degree climb as the Raider entered the space she'd inhabited a split second before. Even as she pulled vertical, she triggered her thrusters on full, sending a blast at the top of the Cylon ship as it skimmed just below her tail tips. The supercharged heat burst through the top of the passing machine like a blowtorch, instantly searing the organic component of the Raider and cracking its structural support.

The whole insane maneuver might have come off flawlessly, except that the Cylon had started to angle down after its original target. As Starbuck flamed the surface beneath her Viper's stern, the slightly tilted rear of the enemy ship clipped her tail section, causing her to flip backwards and slam into the splintering Raider. A section of its wingtip broke off as it sliced into the Colonial craft, striking Starbuck's helmet a glancing blow before becoming wedged into the seat beside her head.

Amazingly, the chunk of metal that jutted from the Viper like a reversed horn, had pierced the canopy without shattering the surrounding structure. With the piece of shrapnel acting as a cork, the cockpit still retained most of its atmospheric integrity, at least for the moment. The pilot was as lucky, the helmet had absorbed the impact of the shard's passing hit, but it was partially crumpled and the faceplate badly fractured inward, breaking the airtight seal. Despite the damage, the headgear still provided oxygen to the semi-conscious woman and the cockpit itself was only venting minimal air.

Pain lanced along her temple and down her neck as Kara slowly raised her head, tears mixing with the blood that filled her vision. Distantly she heard voices, but the words were hard to catch, shuffling by like dealt cards. There was something important about them, though… As she tried to grasp why, waves of dizziness kept sweeping the words in and out.

"Starb…. Apollo…port… Answ…damnit!"

"Ap…Kat. Raider destroyed …visual on...heavy damage. Comm…ight down.

A graveled voice breaking across the channel sharpened Kara's focus briefly, "All Vipers, Galactica Act... Cylons…jumping awa..." There was a long pause and she drifted again before the voice on their headset continued, "SAR teams outb…birds home…much time. They'll…back…reinforc…" That voice nagged at her with a feeling that she had to do something. Before Kara could follow the trail of thought, though, it ebbed away again.

"Starbuck… Hey Starbuck. You…hear me?" The voices were back, this time like a steady flow, annoyingly persistent, they sluiced the thick fog to a bare mist.

"Kat… You see her?"

"I think... Can't see much,"

"Starbuck…Damnit! Answer me!" This time the voice pierced her concussed confusion, parting the last of the haze in a flare of pain. She fumbled at the comm button, "Too…frakkin'…loud." A pause while she breathed through the spiking headache. "Did you get…the number of the bus that hit me?" her hoarse words mumbled across the dark void of space, spreading light in their wake.

"Damn! Starbuck. You got more luck than five people," Kat swore, her relief coming through clearly despite the background static of the comm connection.

"Starbuck, I'll be there in thirty seconds. Hold on, you hear me, Captain!" called Apollo, and she could hear the hope and fear that strung Lee's voice taut.

"Copy that... Holding on," she answered, feeling relieved and vaguely smug at the same time at Apollo's response.

As Kara tried shifting in her seat, the pressure on her left shoulder kept her in pinned in place. Blood blinded, she cautiously reached over with her right hand and felt along the restraining object. Through her gloves, she could tell its surface was smooth and hard beneath her appraising touch. Her questing hand follow its path forward and back, and she swallowed as she realized what the object had to be. Somehow a chunk of debris had pierced her ship, only narrowly missing piercing her in the process.

Guess the gods thought she still had things to do.

[ I I I I I ]

"Starbuck, can you fly this wreck home?" Apollo asked as calmly as he could after seeing the slow spreading of the cracks that permeated the Viper's canopy. He nudged his controls, swinging his own ship around beside hers. There was a long pause before her response.

"I've one hellva hangover," her murmured reply. "Getting a tow sounds mighty good right about now, Sir."

Lee shut his eyes briefly at her words. His fear that she was hurt worse than she was letting on seemed confirmed. But when he opened them again, they were irresistibly drawn to the windshield such a short distance from his own where the lines were inexorably extending their tendrils.

"Sorry, Starbuck. You need to get this horse back in the barn on your own," he said. "Back in the saddle and all that."

There was a lengthy silence during which Lee wondered if Kara had passed out…or worse.

"Uh… So, Apollo. What aren't you telling me?" came her strained question. "Cause you'd better have a good reason for telling a girl to find her own ride home."

"Your…your cockpit… It's not going to hold much longer, Kara" he admitted, feeling chilled despite still heavily sweating.

"Frak me," she muttered. Then, "Have to tell ya, Apollo, kinda flying blind here."

Damn. What else was wrong? He could tell the metal shard was obstructing most of her view, but she should still have had sufficient visibility…unless there was more wrong than what he could see from here. No time to dwell on it. He had to get her back to Galactica before her canopy disintegrated.

Taking a steadying breath, "No problem, Starbuck. Don't I always have your back," he said. "Besides, I've always had a better eye than you. Just listen to me for a change, and I'll get you home," he promised.

"Sir. Yes, Sir," she replied, trying to keep the fear from clogging her voice at the thought of trying to fly—and land—what was left of her Viper while effectively blind. What Lee didn't know was that not only was the Raider shard obscuring over half her view, but the crumpled helmet had slashed a vicious wound across her forehead. Blood filled into her vision and was splashed across the interior of what remained of the faceplate. Kara couldn't even see the stick in her hand, let alone the instrument panel or visually sight out the window.

"Guess we'd better get this over with before company comes back," Apollo said. "Starbuck, you need to steady your heading. Adjust your pitch up a little," he instructed.

Trying to keep her touch light, Kara twitched the control up as she'd been told and immediately felt the ship shudder to obey her command. She could tell that she'd over-corrected and eased back a bit.

"That's it. Now, give her a brief burn. Remember, only the right, high thruster's working, so you're going to have to compensate," he stated, watching as the damaged Viper started valiantly forward. "Ok, swing her 30 degrees to your right and pitch up by another 20," he urged, gauging the ship's—and pilot's—responsiveness to his direction. Damn, she was overcompensating. "Lightly, Starbuck. Stroke don't grab." He grinned as her snort came over the comm at his remark.

"Galactica, Apollo. We're going to need a good crowbar and Doc Cottle once we bring this bird in," he announced to the anxiously listening people in CIC. "And…tell Chief Tyrol that he might have to work fast. I think we might lose the entire canopy on landing," he added.

"Apollo. My helmet…it's compromised, too," Kara admitted. She heard his sharp inhale as he realized what that meant. If the canopy went…and her suit was already damaged…

"Talk to me, Apollo," she demanded, needing to hear his voice to fight off her own fear.

"You're doing great, Starbuck." Lee forced himself to concentrate on getting her down and not worrying about what might happen. "Got her headed in the right direction now. Do another three second burn and we'll see if we can't get home a little faster," he ordered, feeling time racing away from them, knowing that her cockpit could completely shatter at any moment or the Cylons could jump back in.

"Estimate three minutes to dock. Ease her more to the right. Say another 10 degrees… That's it."

Starbuck gave up trying to squint through the blood that trailed across her vision and finally just shut her eyes, focusing on the feel of the Viper around her. The sluggish stick in her right hand seemed to match her thoughts as she tried to keep both from wandering off course. She knew she was concussed, and experience had taught her how to handle the muddling of her senses and mind, but this time was harder, not being able to see and fixate on a goal like usual. Even her limbs were slow to respond as she flexed her feet against the pedals, instinctively making micro-adjustments. It didn't help that the shard was pressing on her left shoulder, causing a spreading numbness down that arm.

"Starbuck, you're drifting sharply right. Correct by 30," Apollo anxiously commanded as the damaged vessel veered off course.

Her blonde head jerked up, and Starbuck realized that she'd drifted off herself for a few seconds. Fear gave her an adrenaline punch that helped, but it was fighting a losing battle. She had to find a focus, find something to keep her in the here and now. Usually she'd just bite her lip, letting the pain sharpen her attention, but the painful throbbing of her head, rather than helping, made concentrating more difficult this time. Well, there was one person that could always get under her skin like nothing else.

Keying her comm, " Apollo. I need…frak…what do I need?" she mumbled, then forcing more volume, "Yeah, I need you to talk… Keep talking…to me."

Hearing the disorientation in her words, Lee quickly grasped what she meant, and took a deep breath before replying.

"What. You're going to let me do the talking for a change, Captain?" he lightly teased, knowing he had to help her keep it together. "Listen up then. Nudge your nose up another few degrees." As the other Viper responded, "That's it, Starbuck. Just a little more."

"Apollo. Galactica Actual. Chief's got everything ready," the Admiral reported. Then grimly added, "Doc Cottle's standing by… How's she doing?"

"Hanging in there. We're making our final approach. See you on deck."

"Bring her home, son," Admiral Adama said, and Lee Adama heard all that couldn't be expressed over the open comm.

Turning his attention back to the scarred Viper, he noted that she had started to waver to the side again during his short distraction. Besides, it was time for their last burn.

"Starbuck, you're listing to the right again, and prepare to engage your thruster. A full four second count this time." When she didn't respond or straighten her ship, he tried chiding her, "You're such a slacker, Starbuck, come on feel the burn with me." Still no response. Raising his voice, Apollo sharply demanded, "Thrace, you kick that frakkin' piece of junk and move your ass! You hear me, Captain?"

The CAG's harsh voice grated in her ear, causing Kara to jolt back in her seat with a muffled groan. "…frak, Lee…You're a bastard sometimes," she managed through gritted teeth as the pain in her head spiked with his yell.

"You know it, Starbuck. That's why they made me the big, bad CAG," Apollo answered. Then with a touch of scorn, "Now get your fat, lazy ass moving, Captain. Give me a four second burn on my mark. Mark! Burn!" he ordered.

Watching the Viper ahead of him ignite her remaining thruster, Lee exhaled and goosed his own bird after her. The ship ahead cutoff her acceleration after the indicated four seconds.

"Starbuck, we're one minute out. Gonna coast the rest of the way from here… Damnit, you're nosing down again… No, too much," he corrected. Then as the other ship started slewing off line, "Get your shit together, Captain!" he yelled again. He could tell she was slipping away, and fear made him angry that she'd gone and gotten herself—both of them—in this mess.

"Frak you, Lee," came the fierce reply, Starbuck's voice strengthening with her temper.

A relieved smile twitched across his face as he said, "Get that crate down and we'll discuss it, Captain," ignoring that the entire squadron and CIC was listening. Turning serious again, "Starbuck, you've got to touch that bird down lightly. None of your hopscotching this time. Got it," he said, knowing that too hard a landing could shatter the remaining integrity of her canopy. With fatal results.

"Nice to know…you don't pressure a lady, Sir," her sour reply.

"What lady. All a see is a smart-mouthed Viper Jock that always claimed she could land her bird blindfolded. Time to lay your hand down and prove it, Starbuck," he goaded. Then, further taunting her, "And if you smash up the Chief's Viper any more than you have, he's gonna want his share of your ass, too. You won't be sitting in a cockpit for weeks."

"Blindfolded…and one hand behind my back, I can still out fly you, Apollo," she shot back, feeling the exhilaration of their byplay sloughing aside some of the dragging muzziness in her head.

"Ok, this is it," stated Apollo as they made their descent. "Now , tap her down a few degrees… Easy on the yaw. There… That's it," he calmly said, guiding her with his voice, all their jousting set aside. "Looking golden. Nose up a touch… Starbuck, get that nose up, just a bit… Ok, angle looking spot on. Five and down. Four, three, two, one…"

"Frak, frak, frak, frak…" Starbuck frantically muttered, fighting the panicked voice in her head that said to abort, insisting that she couldn't do this. Instead, she forced herself to concentrate on the steady voice in her ear guiding her hand and craft with his confidence.

Light and easy. Feel for it. Come on hotshot, hold it together. Just…a…little…longer.

Then the deck was beneath her skids. The vibration and scraping came through the seat and the soles of her feet. Easing back further, she tried to keep the nose from dropping into the plating, but the craft fought her and started to skew to the side.

"Left! Slide her left!" Lee called as he saw her start to spin towards the wall.

Starbuck gritted her teeth and compelled her hand to stay light on the stick as she adjusted to the left. It was working, the Viper straightened and settled on all three skids, but was still skimming forward along the landing pad. Tapping the reverse thrusters, she forced the ship to slow.

That was when her luck ran out.

An electrical surge from the shot-up weapons system pulsed through the Viper's circuits, shorting out the entire control panel and sending a jolt up the joystick. Unguided now, the ship slued sideways again. But fortunately, most of the forward momentum was spent and craft connected with the landing bay's wall with only a small shudder of impact…and the canopy held.

Swiftly putting his own bird down, Lee waited for the scurrying deck crew to move him onto the flight deck, all the while anxiously watching the Chief and his people hustle to secure the damaged Viper.

When he was finally cleared to pop his hatch, Lee leaped from his seat, shoving his helmet at a crewman as he rushed towards where they still worked on Kara's ship. Up close, he was struck anew at how incredible it was that she had survived the initial hit.

"Cally, get that damned winch secured," Chief Tyrol calmly yelled at his crew as he directed the removal of the huge shard from the Viper. "Where the frak's my support crane, Rogers!"

"Winch line secured, Chief," Cally said, even as she finished hitching the cable to the crane's hooks, then climbed down from her precariously perched position on the ship's nose cone. Rogers and Chief Tyrol clamped the crane to Galactica's deck, then the Chief vaulted up the ladder to the cockpit.

"Ok, Rogers, ease it up…more…stop!" Tyrol called out, leaning forward to better evaluate the crane's progress. "Right! Take her back slowly. Uncork this piece of junk from my bird. Steady… That's it," he directed, waving the crewman to continue backing away.

Lee knew the deck crew was going as fast as they dared; it just seemed to be taking forever. He could barely make out Starbuck's slumped form in the pilot's compartment, but he was starting to panic as she remained motionless despite the frantic action around her. Shifting again to stay out of the extraction team's way, he pulled off his gloves and ran an agitated hand through his hair.

The Raider remnant scrapped backwards with a loud screech of protest, to finally swing clear of the Viper's structure. Lee watched as the Chief and another crewman, one on each side of the battered Viper, used crowbars to pry at the distorted canopy. Both men grunted with effort , but the capsule refused to budge beneath their efforts.

"Rogers, get that crane back over here. Cally, the winch. I need the micro-saw, Sanders, like yesterday, man, move it!" snapping out orders, Tyrol only spared a second to look in at the now revealed figure of the pilot. It was long enough for him to feel his gut tighten. It looked bad—and more ominously—she still wasn't moving.

Snatching the saw from his man, the Chief went to work on the struts of the hatch even as he noted from the corner of his eye that Cally was looping the winch cord to the strut at his elbow. He handed the saw across the nose to Sanders to cut through his side.

Casting a brief glance around, Tyrol saw Major Adama standing in front of an anxious crowd of onlookers. He gave the officer a quick nod and said, "We'll have her out in a minute, Sir."

The Chief signaled the crane operator to slowly pull the line taut. With the back struts cut, the canopy was peeled forward, finally giving access to the cockpit's occupant. Tyrol called an abrupt halt and waved the medics in to complete the extraction of the injured pilot.

Lee watched the triage team gently lift Kara's limp form, careful to support her head as they made their way down the ladder. As they laid her on the waiting gurney, he sucked in a deep breath at the condition of her helmet. The dented crown and crumpled faceplate, red-splattered and misshapen, completely obscured the face of the woman he loved. As he watched, a medic carefully maneuvered the bloody helmet off, revealing a deep gash that angled across Kara's forehead and eyebrow, it accounted for all the blood.

Lee took in the red-smeared face and headgear and finally understood that Kara had been serious when she'd said she was flying blind. There was no way in hell she'd been able to see anything out of that helmet; she'd had to rely fully upon his directions, he realized.

Gods, she's amazing! And frakkin' crazy. Taking out two Raiders without even a weapon to throw at them, then landing a wreck while blinded. If she doesn't die, I swear I'm gonna kill her myself.

He watched the second medic remove her glove, checking for a pulse even as they began wheeling the gurney with hurried steps towards sickbay. With a relief that left him nauseous, Lee saw the medic give a nod and say, "Gotta pulse. Let's move it."

Quickly pursuing the men through the corridors, Lee sent a breathless prayer to the gods that they not take Kara now, not after all they'd been through. Entering sickbay on the medics' heels, he anxiously watched as Cottle directed his nurse to cut away the pilot's flight suit. He thought he saw her eyelids flicker, but couldn't be sure, and went to move closer, only to be blocked by the doctor.

"You all might as well get out or take a seat. I've tests to run before I know anything, and that's likely to take awhile," Cottle said dismissively, turning his back on Lee to follow his patient into a curtained area, and decisively shutting the drape behind him.

Lee ached to barge in after the man, demanding to know everything they were doing for Kara, but the rational side of him knew that would only get him kicked out of sickbay and on the Doc's banned list. As the CAG, Lee knew he was suppose to be on the flight deck doing a post-engagement rundown, but he couldn't tear himself away from sickbay. Not, at least, until he knew that Kara was going to be ok. So instead, he tore off his remaining glove and went to lean back against the wall in a corner that gave an unobstructed view of her cubicle.

The CAG duties could frakkin' wait. Lee's duty was to stay right here.

[ I I I I I ]

After about an hour, the doctor approached Lee where he still stood waiting.

Pulling a cigarette, the doctor lit it and took a drag before answering the young man's questioning eyes. "She's going to be fine. Lucky her head's as thick as it is. Took a good knock, so I'll need to keep her under observation for the next twenty-four hours. The laceration might leave a scar, but some of my finer suturing if I say so myself," he huffed, then inhaled a long pull before slowly letting the smoke trickle out again. "You can go sit with her if you want, but no badgering until tomorrow. I don't want to have to separate you two. Got it Major," Cottle warned.

Giving the doctor a relieved, acknowledging nod, Lee hurried past to slip into the curtained enclosure and quietly placed a chair close to Kara's bedside, but didn't sit just yet. Looking down at her sleeping form, his worried gaze traveled from the bandage that extended around her head, partially covering one eye, to the wires and tubes that snaked out from beneath the covering of her hospital gown.

Gods, she looks so pale—and so beautiful—in that mauled sort of way that only Kara can pull off.

A slightly hysterical laugh tried to slip past his locked jaw. Scrubbing at his face, and the gathering moisture in the corners of his eyes, Lee tried to shove the roiling emotions aside, knowing that they were just the pent up release of his fears.

She's got to stop pulling stunts like that. What the frak was she thinking!

Taking several calming breaths, Lee felt the constriction in chest ease as he accepted that Kara was going to survive…yet again. Reaching out, he carefully twitched the thin blanket further up, lightly tucking it around her exposed arms. Despite his care, she stirred and moaned slightly. Blinking a green eye against the bright overhead lights, Kara pulled one of the arms he had just tucked in from beneath the covering and fingered the bandage around her head and right eye.

"Guess this headache's not from a hangover, huh?" she murmured, shifting her watering gaze to his.

"Not this time," Lee said, giving her a reassuring smile while easing her hand away from the gauze dressing. He laced his fingers with hers and brought them to his lips for a quick kiss before tucking her arm back under the blanket again. "If you keep scaring me like this, I'm going to stop visiting you in sickbay, you hear me?" he softly said, worry tingeing his words with a mild reprimand.

"Wha—" she cleared her throat and tried again, enunciating slowly, "What's the damage this time?"

"Just a concussion and a cut on your forehead. The Doc says the eye's fine, just swollen from the impact," he reassured her.

"Oh," Her good eye closed, then opened again, sharpening with worry. "Kat? She's ok? Did we…did we lose anyone else? I know Jouster—" Lee put a finger to her lips, shushing the sudden rush of words.

"Kat's fine. Thanks to you," he said. "Jouster didn't make it but everyone else did. You're our only injury." He stroked the blonde locks above the wrap and saw her tension ease even as his own ratcheted up. How many times could she slide along the razor's edge before either tumbling to her death or splitting apart? He'd promised Cottle not to push her, yet the need to shake some sense of self-preservation into her was becoming unbearable.

As it was, his voice shook as he said, "What were you thinking? Taking on two Raiders with an injured bird?" He saw her good eye widen. "Are you still trying to kill yourself? Cause I'll never forgive you, Kara, if you just throw your life away. It'll kill dad…and…I won't survive it either."

Her eye filled with a different type of pain as it locked with his. He hoped she could see the fear—and love—that held him clenched and vulnerable. She looked away once, yet her gaze returned to his and he could see something steady it.

"Lee, I wasn't… I swear I wasn't trying anything like that. It's just that…when Kat got hit…after Jouster—" her breath hitched as she broke off, and he could see her struggle to continue, "Too many deaths, Lee. I had to do something, and it was stupid I know. I—" she shook her head, and he saw her immediately regret the action as she looked suddenly nauseous, convulsively swallowing as she clamped her uncovered eye shut.

Concern for her pushed the other emotions aside as he reached forward to gently stroke her twitching jaw and quietly said, "Hey now, Cottle says you need to rest. So, I'm going to sit right here and make sure you do, Ok." Putting action to words as she met his gaze, he slid his hand under the blanket and snagged hers in his before lowering himself into the chair. She gave him a weak smile then let her eyelid droop closed again. As her face and grip slowly relaxed, he could tell she was drifting off.

Lee shut his own eyes for a moment, feeling the release of the coiled fear as he accepted that Kara's actions hadn't been another attempt at self-destruction. No, just another crazy Starbuck stunt born of her wild determination to protect her Galactica family.

At least it was familiar territory and affirmed that she was fully back in the fight again.