Author Notes: 7/24/11 I had thought that I'd completed this story when I posted it back in the Fall 2010, but I've since got my enthusiasm back and a vision of where I want to take it forward.
My hope is to post one chapter a week. This is ambitious for me and may be subject to change. I've never tried posting WIP and not sure if I can work that way. But, here goes…

Clarification on timeline. As noted in a prior A/N, I've twisted the timeline slightly so The Passage occurs after The Eye of Jupiter & The Rapture. Basically, they did NOT find food on the Temple planet, and were not yet desperate. This picks up the next morning after the last chapter.

Chapter 99 Plotting A Course

Two hours into her second CAP of the day and the thrill of being back in space had already worn thin as Kara grimaced at the itch she had no way to scratch. The cut on her forehead was nearly healed, but Cottle had insisted on applying a couple of strips of gauze and tape to prevent her helmet from chaffing the new skin.

And now the sucker really itched.

She arched her brows, trying to relieve some of the irritation, but that just reminded her of how tight the helmet felt. Like shoes, it always took awhile to break in a new one. And unfortunately headaches were common. That had to be the reason for the slow throb behind her eyes; it had nothing to do with the fact that the last meal she'd eaten was dinner with Helo some twenty hours ago.

Lee had made the announcement at the morning pilots' briefing. The good humor from the celebration of the night before had ebbed away as the men and women seated around Kara realized exactly what the CAG had said. They understood rationing. But it took longer for most of them to comprehend that the fleet was out of food. As in completely out. The only thing their empty bellies were likely to see in the near future was whatever anyone had stuck away in a hidden stash. Presuming that they were willing to share.

Kara had briefly regretted giving her cornbread to Helo the night before. But only briefly as she remembered how Karl had looked as he'd held Hera in his arms before finally putting her to bed.

The CAG had insisted that the party in her honor shut down at a decent hour with so many scheduled for Raptor runs the next morning. Kara had returned with Sharon and Karl to their quarters afterward because he had something he'd wanted her to take a look at.

The crackle of her comm pulled her back to the present.

"Starbuck, uh, Sunshine here, Sir," the words of the Galactica's newest recruit came hesitantly through the headset. "You think someone'll find a planet today, Sir?"

She frowned, irritated that the nugget was asking her such a stupid question. Like she should know.

"What? I've a frakkin' crystal ball in my lap here, Sunshine?" she snapped back.

"Uh…no, Sir. Sorry, Sir," the male voice cracked slightly, reminding Kara of just how young the fleet was taking them these days.

She sighed, knowing that the nugget was just looking for reassurance. But then, weren't they all? Her gloved hand bumped her faceplate as she unconsciously tried again to scratch. She dropped her clutched fist to thump her thigh in frustration, instead. Frak it all! This was supposed to feel good. Getting back into the air. Flying CAP and getting a semblance of normalcy back.

Trouble was, she didn't even know what normal was supposed to be anymore.

Kara recognized that her temper was fueled by hunger and a poor night's sleep as much as being relegated to shepherding a nugget on CAP instead of being assigned a reconnaissance Raptor.

She'd braced Apollo immediately after the morning briefing about why she hadn't been slotted for one of the search patterns. Fully qualified on a Raptor, Starbuck had expected to be sent out, not left behind circling the fleet with a barely post-pubescent wingman. Lee had said that it was doctor's orders. When she'd tried to argue, he'd cut her off, stating that she was needed on alert anyway in case the Cylons attacked, not scouting some distant starscape. She'd wanted to press it further, but when Lee had taken her hand and sworn that he wasn't 'coddling' her, she'd huffed out her frustration and given a grudging nod of acceptance.

Now she was stuck for another four hours on a routine patrol while all the other pilots cleared on Raptors searched for a new food source. Giving herself a mental shake, Kara noticed that while she'd been lost in thought, she'd been drawing a circle on her thigh. Stiffening, the dreams of the night before returned to her. Her restless sleep had been filled with colored swirls that both beckoned and repelled her at the same time.

It was all Karl's fault.

After settling Hera, he'd pulled out a photo that had been taken of a repeating icon that adorned the Temple they'd found several weeks ago. Didn't it look like the painting in her apartment on Caprica, he'd asked? Tracing the too familiar pattern, Kara had shaken her head and handed the slip of paper back to him before abruptly excusing herself.

And here she was now, preoccupied with some stupid symbol left behind by maybe the gods—or the Thirteenth Tribe—or whatever. She hadn't paid much attention at the time, too distracted by the group of Cylons that had come aboard Galactica and by concern for Lee stuck down on the planet below. A part of her wished that she'd questioned the Chief further about what he'd found, but a stronger side reminded her that she had other responsibilities. Like teaching a boy she'd dubbed Sunshine how to properly fly his Viper.

Keying her comm, "Sunshine, Starbuck. What's say we work on your evasive maneuvers." Recalling the recent changes to the training manual, "I've a few tricks I've been saving for just a bright little bulblike you," she said.

Both of them were drenched in sweat by the time their shift ended, but it felt good. Lee was right. This was where she was needed, not off looking at hunks of rock masquerading as planets

…or for some mystical swirly symbols.

[ I I I I I ]

It was two days later and Apollo had just finished his pilot briefing on how Galactica's Raptors were going to lead the fleet through the radiation field. He turned to signal Starbuck to continue.

Stepping forward, "Remember, you're all flying solo on this mission," she warned, her gaze sweeping the subdued room, "so that means there'll be nobody there to bitch-slap you if you get tired or start seeing little toasters off your wing." There were a few half-hearted smirks in response. "We'll be issuing stims. So use them."

Kara saw Kat abruptly straighten in one of the front row seats.

"What? Are you crazy? We can't use stims," Kat said, glaring at Starbuck now.

"Kat, do you have a problem?" Lee snapped out.

Kara clamped her jaw tight, irritated that he obviously thought she needed help dealing with the younger pilot. She shifted her attention forward again as Kat retreated slightly in her seat but continued in a slightly more restrained tone.

"Stims amp up your metabolism. We've got nothing to burn. Stims in our system, we're going to be flying into the sides of the ships."

"You used to like the stims, Kat," the goading words slipped out before Kara was conscious that she was going to say them. She felt the look Lee gave her, and held to a smirk rather than saying any more.

Ever the mediator, "Alright, personal discretion on the stims," Lee said. Then, "We're taking the first load of civilians on board as we speak. That's it. Skids up in four hours."

With an eyeroll, Kara strolled after him out the side hatch as the rest of the pilots slowly made their way toward the back exit. Lee was waiting just outside the ready room. With arms folded, he gave her a measuring look.

"You and Kat at it again?"

"Just the usual bitching." She shrugged. "Besides, we're all feeling kind of strung out. Starving'll do that to you."

"Ok, but I'll have a word w—"

"I got it, Lee. Don't need you handle it," she interrupted, getting irritated that he thought she couldn't deal with Kat on her own. She saw him stiffen in response to her sharp words and mentally sighed. She hadn't meant to snap at him—well, actually she had—but it was just because he'd been hovering every since she'd been released for flight. And it bugged the hell out of her. She grimaced, then said, "Look… Kat and I… We just rub each other the wrong way. I can either put up with her snipes or shut her down. You don't need to worry about it—worry about me."

"But I do. Worry," he said, moving in close and raising a hand toward her cheek. "Are you sleeping ok? Because you look like yo—"

"Frak, Lee," batting his palm away, "Course I'm tired. Everyone is. It's hard to sleep on an empty belly, so just lay off!" she said in a rush, determined to not let him know about the new set of nightmares that had been plaguing her the last few days.

His jaw tightened and blue eyes shifted away from her before snapping back.

"Fine, Kara. Push me away. Just like old times." His tone was hard, and she saw tension pull his face taut.

Great. Just frakkin' wonderful. First Kat and now this.

Struggling to keep her tone level, "You really think this the time for a heart to heart, Lee?" she demanded, feeling her own ire rise in response to his.

"No. You're right," his brows lowering "it's not. It just never is with you, huh?" Turning partially away, "I'll see you in three hours on the flight deck, Captain," he said, then strode off.

Glaring at his departing back, Kara closed her hands into to fists at her side, resisting the urge to charge after him. He wasn't being fair. Hadn't she been trying to let him in these past couple of weeks? She was doing her best here and that never seemed good enough.

Frakkin' Lee. Always pushing. Gods, why won't he just leave it alone.

But then she asked herself if that was what she really wanted? For him to leave her alone? No, not really. It was just he was trying to coddle her again. It wasn't her fault he got so pissy. She just needed some time to deal with the frakked up dreams is all. And maybe a full course meal and a tall glass of ambrosia to chase it down, too.

Abruptly she realized that she was rubbing at the barely healed skin above her eyebrow again. Forcing her hand down, Kara took a deep breath and slowly released it. Like everyone else, Lee hadn't had anything to eat for the last threedays. He had every right to be as short tempered as the rest of them. Sometimes she forgot that just because he hid his feelings behind the CAG's mask, it didn't mean they weren't there.

Her gaze returned to the empty hallway and she considered going after him to apologize. With a shake of the head, Kara turned away instead. She really didn't want to try to explain to Lee about the strange dreams she'd been having. It was bad enough that they were dominated by ringed images, but the last one… How would he take it if she confessed that she'd started dreaming of Leoben again, only this time that she was a fully aware participant? Aware and willing.

Stomach clenching with a nausea that had nothing to do with being empty, Kara pressed her palms to her eyes as if to push the flaring memory from her mind. In the dream, Leoben had entrapped her from behind while she'd been frantically trying to blot out the mandala on her apartment wall. In the heated encounter that followed, Leoben hadn't asked permission—and she hadn't said no.

She'd had enough discussions with Laura by this to point to understand some of it. The Cylon had never given her a choice. Not really. And she'd been in no condition to consent, even if she'd wanted to. Yet… What the hell was wrong with her? Because she'd wanted Leoben in that moment—pressed up against the wet paint, she'd wanted him as desperately as she ever had Sam—or Lee.

Disgust flared to a roar and Kara struck out at the nearest bulkhead. At the last moment, she collapsed her arm, folding it so her fist barely grazed the metal and her forearm impacted horizontally instead. She stood leaning against the wall, gasping and fighting with the dark loathing that urged her down the path of self-punishment.

No!

This wasn't the way.

Hadn't the past weeks showed her that that route only lead straight to a place she'd sworn she'd never go again?

Turning to lean with her back flat to the cold steel, Kara sought to slow her breathing and think for a change. Maybe Lee was right. Maybe she should go talk to him. She immediately flinched away from the idea. Things might be good between them—more than good. The best it's ever been—but he'd never understand this. Hell, she didn't and it was her frakked-up dream!

Then Laura…or the Old Man?

No!

Slapping her hands back against the bulkhead she shoved upright.

They're busy…and I've already taken too much of their time. Can handle it on my own.

But then another voice, sounding like her mom's, mocked her, 'Just like you did before? Did real good then, didn't you.'

It was true. Kara knew she'd screwed up before just trying to push through like usual. Yet, what other options did she have? The memory of something Karl had said when he'd momentarily cornered her in the mess before her breakdown came back to her now. He'd tried to get her to talk with him, but at her intransigence, he'd suggested she visit Dogsville. Something about an oracle that had setup a tent in the refugee camp in one of Galactica's holds.

Scrubbing damp palms along the coarse material of her pants, Kara decided that it was worth checking out. What's the worst that could happen?

Comments and concrit always appreciated!