Chapter 107 Dutiful Moments
Lee held his Raptor just beyond Galactica's landing pod, mentally ticking off each civilian ship as they appeared with their escorts until only the Faru Sadin remained unaccounted for.
His jaw tightened as he checked the mission clock. A fresh film of perspiration layered Lee's forehead as he saw that over five minutes had gone by since their leap into the radiation field, whereas the past jumps had been averaging only three minutes each. A glance at the badge on his wrist showed black with a few shadings of grey—no remaining white at all. Though no red tinted it either, Lee was fully aware of the ramifications of the level he had received…both medically and personally.
As another minute dragged by, his fear rose. They'd already lost two of the irreplaceable civilian ships and could ill-afford a third, but he didn't kid himself, it was the continuing absence of the escorting Raptor that was clamping a strangling band around his chest and making each breath an effort now.
"Starbuck…damn you, come on," he murmured, eyes flicking between the Dradis display and the starfield beyond.
The Faru Sadin abruptly flashed in and Lee instinctively jerked, tensed muscles releasing as one in relief. He drew in a shaky breath. As fear shifted into anger, Lee keyed his comm, intent on berating Starbuck for taking so long.
"Starbuck, Apollo. Took your—" he broke off as the meaning of the single blip on Dradis finally registered. His gaze quickly shifted up as he squinted across to the distant ship, searching for the small shuttle that had to be hiding in its Dradis shadow. "Starbuck, report!" he snapped out. Static fed back over his open comm. "Captain Thrace, report your position, you're not showing on Dradis," his voice climbed as a gut-deep fear told him that she wasn't going to answer.
The static was replaced by the Admiral's graveled voice. "Faru Sadin, Galactica Actual. Where's your escort?" A pause stretched Lee's nerves further before an unknown female's voice replied.
"Captain Swensen here, Sir. Starbuck was with us just prior to the jump." Then a long pause that made Lee want to reach across the distance and shake the unseen woman. "Admiral, I just confirmed with my comm officer that the last contact we had with your pilot was her relaying the coordinates and giving the ok to jump." Another pause, then she continued hesitantly now, "Sir, he says that Starbuck gave no indication she was having any difficulties."
"Copy that, Captain Swensen." His father's voice was level, but Lee could still hear a matching stress in the undertone as the Admiral continued, "The Faru Sadin was overly long in the storm, do you have an explanation, Captain?"
"We had some trouble establishing contact with our escort, Sir," the woman replied. Her tone then took on a defensive edge as she added, "Look, Admiral. I don't know why your pilot's missing."
Static hummed in his ear as Lee waited for his father demand a better explanation.
Then, "Understood. Galactica out," the Admiral said and the comm went silent.
Lee blinked in surprise. That was it? They hadn't learned anything! The Faru Sadin's commander had to have some idea…some hint of what was delaying Starbuck!
The mission clock showed another two minutes having passed with the uninformative conversation. Starbuck was quickly running out of time. Between one breath and the next, Lee made a decision. Hands kicked the Raptor's thrusters hard over and he accelerated towards the Faru Sadin. He needed to be closer to the other ship to ensure that he jumped in as near as possible to the same spot within the radiation field. Fingers stabbed instructions into the NAV computer and Lee toggled the FTL, spinning up the shuttle's jump drive.
"Apollo, what are you doing?" the Admiral's voice thundered at him through the earpiece.
"I'm going back in. Something's gone wrong and she needs help, Dad," he quickly replied, not even aware how he'd address the Admiral.
"Negative, Apollo. Return to Galactica immediately. We wait now."
What? There was no more time for waiting. He has to know that!
As if able to hear Lee's unspoken protest, "Apollo, what's your radiation reading?" Lee's eyes flicked towards the badge but he said nothing. It apparently wasn't necessary as his father's word came though, harsh with held back emotions, "There's nothing you can do."
Shaking his head in denial, Lee held his course towards the civilian vessel.
"Apollo…Lee…listen to me. What do you think you can do by jumping back? "
"I can find her. Maybe relay coordinates or something." His voice rose. "I don't know, Dad, but I've got to try!" His hand hovered over the FTL initiation button.
"Don't! Lee, don't—" His father's voice broke, then came back with an unaccustomed pleading edge. "I can't lose you both."
I can't lose you both.
The words seared as hotly as if caught within the blast of thrusters.
His hand slowly withdrew. He couldn't do it.
A voice within was desperately yelling 'NO!' even as Lee again reached forward, this time to shut down the FTL. Choking chords of duty forced him to swing the shuttle's nose back toward the battlestar. The fleet needed every experienced pilot, but more than that, his father needed him now. After so many years of distance between them, Lee couldn't resist the pull of his dad's plea. A logical part of him even agreed. The chances of locating Kara within the storm were negligible and he knew that whatever had happened to her ship couldn't be fixed in a minute…and that was about all the time he had left before taking a fatal dose himself. He'd known this and had originally decided to go anyhow.
But now he couldn't.
A shudder racked his body before he clamped down on the threatening grief and focused entirely on landing the shuttle.
Eleven minutes rasp by.
Eleven minutes to land his bird and process through decon.
Eleven minutes to accept that Kara wasn't making it back this time.
Eleven minutes to consider explanations and find a target for his anger.
Eleven minutes seemed such a short period of time for a world to tear apart.
Helo was waiting for Lee as he exited the decontamination area. The taller man's pitying expression was all it took to confirm that Starbuck hadn't suddenly appeared during the few minutes he had been occupied by the medics.
Lee's stomach lurched as his last vestiges of hope were sundered. He thrust past Karl and braced a hand against the wall as he was bent double, heaving up what little water hadn't already been sweated out. After a few moments, he straightened and, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, reluctantly turned as a young medic approached.
"Sorry, Sir. I forgot to take your rad badge," the ensign hesitantly said, looking uncomfortable at having witnessed the CAG losing it like a nugget.
As Lee handed over the darkened octagon, he saw Karl's gaze fixate on it before rising to meet his own.
"Nothing you could've done," Karl said after the medic moved away. "Kara wouldn't have wanted you to either and would've smacked you one for even contemplating it...if she were here."
Seeing Karl's grief settling into pained lines around his eyes and mouth, Lee's own surged forward again. And with it, the anger it was stoking.
"I want an explanation," he coldly said, eyes sliding past Helo to the orange-clad crewmembers beyond. Something of the building rage must have shown in his face for Helo reached out and gripped his bicep as he moved to go past. A quick jerk and Lee pulled free.
It seemed the majority of the hanger bay's occupants halted in their tasks to turn and watch him stalk over to where Tyrol was partially obscured examining a Raptor's undercarriage. The Chief must have sensed something amiss in the unusual silence, for he stood to find himself confronted by a pissed off Major Adama.
"What the hell happened?" Lee demanded.
Tyrol didn't bother to look confused; he knew exactly what the CAG meant, what he was implying.
"I don't know, Sir. Maybe she became disorientated in the storm," he offered.
"Disorientated?" Tyrol's explanation only served to fuel Lee's anger. "This is Starbuck we're talking about here, not some nugget," he spat out.
"Yes, and you had just grounded her yourself," the Chief snapped back. "Maybe she shouldn't have been out there. Maybe she wasn't ready."
As the accusation slashed open the possibility Lee had been refusing to acknowledge, his temper was doused in icy uncertainty. His mind instantly replayed the past hours—days really—searching for some evidence to support or denounce the statement. Kara had been getting better, Lee would swear to that, but he also had to concede that the last few days had seen a regression in her: the flashback in the Raptor the most telling indication that she was still grappling with the mindfrak of New Caprica.
No. He refused to believe that she had been lost to one of the flashbacks in the moment before the jump, she would have been too focused on the mission. And to consider that she had decided to purposefully stay behind…
No.
He shook his head, gut-sure that she hadn't been suicidal.
"No, Chief. This wasn't pilot error. Something went wrong," he said, calmer now, but still adamant.
"Look, Major… I don't know what to say; her Raptor was cleared." Cally caught the Chief's meaningful look and stepped away. As Lee's expression darkened again, Tyrol reluctantly conceded, "I suppose it could have been some unexpected damage from the radiation storm."
Then Cally was back and handed Tyrol a clipboard. The Chief flipped up through the pages to the right one.
"Right here, Sir. Raptor 594 was clear—" he broke off and Lee saw the man pale as his eyes continued down the sheet. He saw the Chief's knuckles whiten as the man's grip on the clipboard tightened.
"Chief Tyrol?" Lee impatiently prompted.
"Sir…I was sure," the man paused, sick guilt in his eyes as he continued, "I thought all the shuttles had been checked again after the fourth trip. Captain Thrace's…" another pause, "well, the ground crew had serviced it after her last jump. Since it was already marked completed, no one checked—I didn't think to check it again," he confessed.
"So, Starbuck's NAV computer, her electrical system, didn't get tested for the problem that nearly fried Narcho's Raptor?" Lee's voice was cold even as his anger blazed anew. Tyrol's shamed silence was all the answer he needed. His hands were fisted on the Chief's collar in an instant. Rage roared blood in his head and the shouts about him were as if coming down a long tunnel as he yelled in Tyrol's face.
"Kara's gone! Because of your damned incompetence!"
Hands were attempting to pull him off the Chief where he had the man shoved against to the fuselage of the Raptor. He fought to free himself, oblivious to the words shouted at him until that voice cut through the din.
"ENOUGH!" Admiral Adama commanded, and silence fell, broken only by the rasping breaths as the Chief struggled to get air through the stranglehold of cloth about his throat. "Major Adama, release him." Ingrained discipline caused Lee's hands to unclench and Tyrol took a relieved inhale. As the haze over his eyes faded, a detached part of Lee noted the abraded imprint of the collar in the other man's neck.
"Everyone, back to your duties!"
The crew scurried to comply and the accustomed noises returned to the hanger bay until only Lee, the Admiral, a wary Tyrol and an anxiously hovering Cally remained beside the shuttle.
"Chief Tyrol," the orange-clad figured straightened, "I'll expect a full report within the hour. Dismissed."
Lee held rigidly still as the man slid sideways away from him. In the passing moments, his anger had collapsed into a bitter despair that had locked up his muscles, making him feel like some statue that might shatter if he tried to move. He felt the presence of his father move closer. As a hand was carefully laid upon his shoulder, only the long established habit of hiding his feelings kept Lee from coming apart right then and there.
Habit had much to recommend it. It allowed him to step away and turn with his expression now schooled to a blank mask. He held his gaze just to the right and above his father's, refusing to meet and acknowledge the grief he'd see in those eyes.
Adama cleared his throat, then in low tones ordered, "With me, Major," and turned to walk away without looking back to see if he was obeyed.
Lee's knees unlocked enough to carry him forward.
He wasn't sure how he came to be sitting in a chair before the desk in the Admiral's quarters, but his mind abruptly snaps into focus and he surges to his feet.
"She could've jumped back to alpha point," he blurted, interrupting whatever his dad had been saying.
"Why?" The question slivered with both denial and hope.
"Maybe…maybe the NAV malfunctioned, reset to the last coordinates," he suggested, knowing full well that he was grasping at straws. "Or, for some reason of her own... I don't know, Dad. But it's possible." He paced away and back. Then, leaning with hands splayed on the desk, "We need to go back. Jump the Galactica back," he said.
As his father silently studied him, Lee saw the conflicted need in the craggy face and had a moment of elation. But then the Admiral visibly returned, pushing the raw emotion back down and Lee knew his answer even before spoken.
"No. Without proof the Galactica stays with the fleet." The tone of granite resolve forbid Lee from pushing the matter further.
Lee shoved off the desk and took another turn around the limited space. This time he maintained his distance, fighting to check his emotions and present a more pragmatic appearance.
"Then send a Raptor back." Following the Admiral's significant look down towards his wrist where the radiation badge use to be, "There has to be someone." His head jerked up. "Showboat! She's only clocked four jumps. Nowhere near the limit of exposure. She just needs to jump back and confirm Starbuck's there and then return."
"You're forgetting exactly why Showboat was grounded, Major." The words full of censure now, bluntly reminding him that the woman was still in sickbay recovering from the effects of anoxia.
"Maybe Cottle can—"
"Major!" the Admiral was on his feet now, gaze hard and angry.
Lee physically wilted beneath the look of contempt that he'd even consider sending an injured crewmember off on such a thin chance. Dropping back into the chair, he leaned forward, hands to his head as the crushing despair rushed forward again into the crater left behind by the moment of hope.
They sat slumped, each in their own encompassing grief until the ship's intercom beeped and Duala's voice reported that the Admiral was needed in CIC.
Lifting his head, Lee watched his father grasp the arms of the chair and push slowly to his feet. The etched lines of his face deepened and Lee was forced to acknowledge that Kara's loss was as painful to his dad as himself. Then again, the Admiral wasn't the one that had to reinstate Kara's flight status. Guilt gave him the impetus to rise.
"We need a CAP." Adama pushed his glasses higher on his nose. "The pilots that weren't Raptor-certified can fill out the rank of trainees. That will give us some limited coverage. See to it that those that were on escort duty have a full twelve hours off and receive medical clearance from the doctor before they're reassigned."
"Yes, Sir," Lee dully managed in reply.
The stims still stung his blood, yet Lee could feel reality receding until it felt like he was experiencing everything through a sheet of plastic. He could feel the hand on his shoulder now without fearing that he might implode at its touch. Words passed his father's lips, undoubtedly meant to provide a semblance of comfort, but they came and went without really touching him. A dutiful nod and his father turned, slow strides taking him to CIC. He watched until a hatch took the trudging figure from view.
Duty carried Lee back to the hanger bay.
It kept him on his feet five hours later when the stims finally released their hold.
It had him resisting the petite hand as it took hold of his elbow and tried to lead him towards quarters, and only a direct order from the Admiral finally got him to stagger along beside the woman that had once shared his quarters. He'd collapsed across his rack, oblivious to Dee's worried presence.
Duty returned eight hours later as his eyes opened, and he numbly swung his feet from the bunk to go attend to it once more.
Duty had forced him to put Kara back in the cockpit, though every instinct had been screaming that something was horribly wrong. It had cost him too much, too often, yet it seemed the only thing remaining now in his life. Lee let it pull him forward through the following days as the algae processing burped into full production and people were finally fed.
And Duty demanded that he attend the memorial and wake held in Kara "Starbuck" Thrace's honor two days later; but even it wasn't enough to make him stay as people began swapping stories of Kara's exploits. Lee slipped away and found himself standing alone in the observation lounge. Staring out at the vastness beyond, he relived moments shared with the complicated woman that had stolen half his soul.
Faced with the endlessness of space, Lee finally felt the full loss of that other portion of himself. And he slowly slid down the window, hand splayed against its cold surface as if to reach out to what he'd left behind. The wetness on his face didn't matter as his eyes blurred until all he could see was black…and the darkness seemed to flow through to fill him until there was nothing else.
Someone must have found him and got him back to his rack, for he awoke as the ship's comm chimed reveille and called him to face another day.
Another endless day, their fifth waiting above the planet as the algae was gathered. The fleet's storage units were nearly full and the final shipment was already on its way up. The Chief was on the surface overseeing the disassembly and loading of the equipment so Lee didn't have as many looks cast his was as he moved among the personnel in the hanger bay.
In his cocoon of grief, Lee hadn't noticed the unease that shifted through those around him. Nor would it have mattered to him if he had. So moored in depression, Lee, for the first time in his life, couldn't care less what others thought of his behavior. He would do his duty and everything else was superfluous.
And then the action stations alarm went off.
For just a moment he was frozen in place, a disjointed thought that it was Kara returned in an enemy craft, just like before. But then reality tripped back as the XO's voice ordered an 'all Vipers launch' and informed them that two basestars had FTLed in and were sending a full load of Raiders their way.
Feeling much like someone emerging from a cave after having been lost, Lee blinked about him at the flurry of orange as the deckcrew rushed to prepped the fleet's defenders. It was Cally that finally broke his paralysis as the diminutive woman snapped to a halt in front of him with a sharp salute.
"Sir, your Viper's ready," she said, all military precision, then her demeanor changed, reminding him that this was the person that had shot Boomer in a fit of vengeance. "Get the frakkers, Apollo. Make them pay." The bloodthirstiness didn't suit Cally, but he couldn't have any arguments with the sentiment. He'd thought his anger snuffed out by the smothering apathy, but it flared as her words cast accelerate on the banked embers of his fury.
"They will," he said and spun away to race to the waiting means of his retribution.
As he was launched out of Galactica's tubes and into the fiery mess of combat, he silently repeated the promise.
They will