Chapter 120 Propositions
Kara's eyes fluttered open and she squinted at the flickering lights overhead. As they dimmed and then surged bright again, she laid a forearm across her brow to block the glare and winced at the unexpected pain above her eye. When testing fingers came away red, she cautiously rolled to her side on the metal decking, noticing then the smear of crimson on her arm, too.
"Frak," she murmured as she remembered the floor bucking beneath her bare feet right before everything went black.
Wiping the blood off on her white sweatpants, Kara grabbed the edge of the bed and pulled herself upright…and then immediately bent over, hands on knees as a wave of vertigo threatened to put her right back down. She purposefully breathed a slow in and out, waiting for the dizziness to pass before warily straightening again.
Right. No quick moves and she'd be fine. She knew the drill. A simple concussion was almost a relief in its normalcy. And as she saw the streak of red on the bed's edge, her lips twitched, for it wasn't the first time either that she'd knocked herself silly on the frame of her rack. Of course, the other time ambrosia had been involved. Lots of it. At least this go-around she could be thankful that she didn't have the complication of a hangover and the Trident's CAG ragging in her ears about irresponsibility and behavior unbecoming of an officer.
That memory slid into thoughts of another CAG—and Kara wet her lips as she remembered blue eyes and a cocked brow giving her a questioning look. She'd been drunk then, too, but not nearly drunk enough. No, that came later, after she'd used the Chief's rotgut to drown the pain of the loss of her pilots to Scar—and after the stupidity of her lies to Lee.
An ache that rivaled the one in her head constricted her chest at thoughts of the younger Adama. In the many days since waking on the basestar, Kara had found herself wondering how Lee was taking her disappearance. Part of her hoped that he missed her while another that sounded suspiciously like her mother's voice whispered how much better he was without her there to burden his life.
Knowing that so much of the disaster that was her and Lee's relationship was due to the feelings and fears stirred up by that inner mantra, she had tried using Laura's words—repeated so many time during their sessions together—to combat the pernicious thoughts.
She had worth outside of the cockpit.
She was someone that people could loved.
She wasn't destined to screw-up everything good in her life.
Though it was still an effort to put any belief into the recitations, Kara did notice that the volume of her self-doubts had definitely decreased, especially with the discovery of Earth. For a short time she'd been able to use that to further dampen the mocking voice... Except now it taunted her for finding the way only to then frak it up by getting captured by the Cylons.
Pressing a palm to her forehead, Kara gave herself permission to miss Lee. Regardless of her fears, she knew that they had at least found their balance again as friends. And, given time, she had started to believe that there would've been a chance for them to grope their way to a closer relationship. One where they didn't hurt each other at every turn. But, as she lifted her head and glared at the paired Centurion guards, she wondered now whether they'd ever have the opportunity.
The florescent lights abruptly flickered out, leaving the room tinged in the sullen glow of the conduit that ran the circumference of the chamber. Facing the silhouetted guards, Kara's frustration grew, hating the feeling of being trapped and ignorant. She wanted the frak out of the suddenly claustrophobic room!
Yet, as Kara really took in the Centurions' position, she almost laughed. They stood barely visible in the dim illumination, side-by-side in the narrow entrance. But it was the way they'd braced themselves, each with one arm locked with the other's and with their outside ones buttressed against the archway's frame that made Kara smirk. They looked like drunken comrades staggering home late at night after too much of everything. The humor of the image fell away as she reminded herself that as comical as they looked, they'd still block any attempt she made to go find out for herself what was happening.
As her attention shifted to the cause of the basestar's obvious damage, her first thought was that Galactica had attacked the basestar in some foolish attempt to rescue her, but then she'd scoffed the idea aside. The Admiral wouldn't risk that, not just for her, and besides, he had to have thought she'd died back in the radiation field. No one even knew she was being held by the Cylons. The other option that came to mind was that the recent FTL distortion she'd felt had been the basestar jumping to the Fleet's location and instigating the attack. Whatever the scenario, the basestar had taken a beating and she could only pray that Galactica had fared better.
Wondering exactly how long she'd been unconscious, Kara massaged fingertips at her temples as the growing frustration made the pounding in her head increase. Trying to find a distraction, she moved to the side wall and placed her palm to its surface, intending to express her grievances through the only means she'd found since waking on the basestar.
But something was wrong.
The substance that covered—made up?—the walls of her cell seemed colder, more rigid. And when she lifted her hand away, the area beneath barely lightened in shade at all. Extending her hand again, this time Kara 'listened', hearing now by touch and sound the faltering of the great ship's lifeforce.
The basestar was dying.
Letting her arm fall back to her side and taking a step away, Kara didn't know how to feel. Shouldn't she be pleased that another of the enemy's vessels was destroyed? One less to pursue the Colonial Fleet?
And yet... As she pivoted, eyes squinting in the gloom towards the dark walls, she recalled the temporary peace she'd gained as she had stroked the organic surface. She'd also grown used to falling asleep to the ship's thrum of circuits and energy. It had felt like lying with her head against another's chest and listening to the steady beat of their heart.
She abruptly shoved the troubled feelings aside. It was just another death—and not even that of a human, so it was frakked up that it should bother her, Kara told herself. Shouldn't she be more concerned about what the Cylons were going to do now? It was obvious that the basestar's systems were failing. And, as she caught a whiff of scorched…something, Kara realize that there were probably spreading fires. Were skinjobs even now abandoning ship, taking off and leaving her behind to die along with that Hybrid of theirs?
As if in answer, she heard steps and then the scraping sound of metal separating and she peered across the gloom at the figure that had come for her. At least she hoped he had, preferring to take her chances at finding a means to escape during the evacuation than being left behind, alone on a slagged hulk.
The question was, which of her captors was she going to have to put down before she could find a way off the ship. She was hoping for Simon. Sure, he knew to be cautious around her, he'd learned that much at least. But if he was still sporting the sling, and she could play off how 'fragile' she was emotionally, Kara bet she could catch the Four off-guard. Perhaps she should faked one of her flashbacks?
But when the figure moved towards her, the familiar form of a Two was distinguishable. It was Leoben that had come for her as, in her gut, Kara had known it would be. The Cylon wasn't about to renounce his possession of her now, certainly not when he'd finally got her back within his grasp. She knew Simon had been running a sort of interference for her, but was darkly sure that the 'good' doctor's protection had just expired.
"We must hurry, Kara," despite his words, Leoben spoke calmly and she wondered what it would take to really rattle the Two's composure.
Crossing her arms, "What the hell's happening?" she demanded, needing some answers before deciding how and when to make her bid to escape.
"Natalie's waiting for you. She'll explain," his reply, and this time she caught the undercurrent of excitement that he couldn't quite hide.
Whatever had gone down had been more than a simple clash between the basestar and Galactica. She was sure of it. And as a chill chased goosebumps along her arms, Kara clamped down on the sudden fear that the Cylons might have finally destroyed the old battlestar. No, she refused to credit that the Old Man would've let that happen.
Kara decided she'd learn more by cooperating and gave Leoben a jerk of her chin for him to lead the way. At the slight tilt of his head, she could guess that the Two was trying to read her intentions, but was reassured in the knowledge that she was backlit by the glow from the conduit strip. She could just make out the lifting of the corner of his lips in a sardonic smile before he turned away.
As she followed along the shadowed passageway, she was shocked at the sight of the carnage left in the wake of the fight. It wasn't that she hadn't seen it all before—torn and burned bodies lining the walls of a hall—but shouldn't it be different when it was the enemy's moans and evidence of suffering that beat at her senses? Kara gagged as the smell of charred flesh stirred her gorge as readily as if they were humans. And if the sight of a Centurion carrying a severely burned skinjob that looked identical to Athena made her flinch, she refused to acknowledge how much it bothered her. Skinjobs or the chromed variety, what did it matter if the Cylons bled or died? They'd just resurrect again…and again…barely touched by the reality of death—as she knew from bitter experience.
Kara stumbled as something tripped her. Squinting down in the dim light, she could see that a Six with a huge gash that ran the length of her side had snagged the cuff of her sweatpants and was trying to gasp out a plea for help. For some reason the blonde reminded Kara of the Six in Galactica's brig and she felt strangely guilty when Leoben gripped her elbow and pulled her onward.
"There's no time for this," he said, sparing but a glance for the whimpering figure on the decking. When she yanked her arm free, Leoben must have read her disgust at his apparent disregard for the injured, for he said, "She'll be attended to," then qualified, "If there's time. But we have to hurry now. Cavil could return at any moment and we must be away before he does."
More perplexed now than before, Kara continued in Leoben's wake as she tried to piece together the meaning of his words. She remembered Cavil—or at least the One that called himself Brother Cavil on Caprica. She'd thankfully had no interaction with the older Cylon since. Remembering the Admiral's briefing on the skinjob after he and the President had interrogated a pair of them on Galactica, she knew that they represented the first humanoid models created. And apparently acted as leaders of some sort for the Cylons. Why then had Leoben seemed to indicate that Cavil was the cause of the basestar's ravaged condition?
What the frak's going on?
She was distracted when she had to pressed herself to the wall to allow room for a Centurion that was half-dragging another damaged one to pass. Rubbing her arms against the chill of the wall and the decking beneath her bare feet, she suddenly wished that she'd been given another pair of socks after the others had gotten wet.
Kara quickened her stride after Leoben, abruptly finding an uneasy comfort in the Two's familiarity amidst all the chaos. She supposed that the chamber they entered was the same she'd been lead to before, yet the change was dramatic, the calm and quiet permanently shattered. Even here, the only light was the glow given off by the neon conduit. Its ruddy illumination revealed more bodies, though at least the injured had apparently already been removed, only the dead and functional still lingering within the command center of the basestar. It wasn't necessary for Kara to see the black-scarred panels to know of the fires caused by shorting circuits and a smoky pall hung heavy, stinging her eyes as she squinted to find the figure she'd been brought to meet.
As a tall form detached from a group and approached, Kara was shocked at the change in the Six. Despite the poor lighting, she could make out the smears of blood and soot that marred the woman's face. But it was the way she carried herself that implied the biggest difference. There was no arrogance now in Natalie's crossed arms, and though her shoulders were braced as straight as before, Kara could still discern the tremor that defied the woman's control.
"We're giving you what you want," said the Six, her voice tight with stress. "A Heavy Raider's being prepped to return you to Galactica."
Kara twitched back, taken by surprise at the Cylon's words. They were letting her go? A glance at the Two at her side confirmed she'd understood correctly as he nodded. Ok, but where was the catch? There was no way she was going to believe that the Cylons didn't have some agenda of their own for setting her free.
"And?" she prodded. A look passed too quickly between the pair for her to read, but it was enough to verify her suspicion. Her lips thinned as she grimly repeated, "And?"
"We need an alliance," the reluctance in Natalie's voice was ludicrously obvious and it was all Kara could do not to outright laugh in her face.
An Alliance? She was frakkin' kidding, right?
Shifting to better see Leoben in the shadows cast by the conduit's glow, Kara didn't bother hiding her incredulity as she put her hands on her hips and glared from one to the other.
"Kara, this is the new channel I've seen opening before our two peoples," Leoben said in that reverent tone that she hated so much. "It's true. I know you can feel it, too."
"Don't know what game you're playing," Kara said, choosing to ignore him now and focus on the Six instead, "but, sure, I'll take your terms to the Admiral." She held back adding that there was no frakking way Adama or Roslin would consider such an alliance. Yet, if the skinjobs were willing to give her a ship and send her off, she wasn't about to argue the point.
They must have had some of the same thoughts, for Natalie said, "We mean it. We can help your fleet and…" she hesitated, shifting uneasily before continuing, "…and we think it's time to face our own mortality. To give our lives meaning by making our time finite. You and Cavil have taught us that at least. Repeatedly, you've shown how a single life can make a difference, while the One's decision to deny us resurrection has shown us the value of the present." The woman paused, looking like she was about to step off a ledge. When she continued, her words were rushed as if afraid she'd change her mind if she didn't get them out quickly enough. "There's a ship, the Resurrection Hub. It's the central core of our ability to resurrect. All the others are merely appendages that extend its reach. Destroy the Hub, destroy resurrection…for all of us."
Kara stared in disbelief as the meaning of the words registered. Destroy the Hub…and the enemy would be mortal. Destroy the Hub and it might be possible—maybe not to win the war—but to at least convince the Cylons that the cost was too great to continue it.
Something understood, but never discussed was that finding Earth was only feasible if the Fleet wasn't dooming its population to the same genocide that the Colonists had faced. There had always been the hope that the Thirteenth Tribe was advanced enough to provide a permanent military victory against the Cylons, perhaps even completely eradicate them. But, though the Admiral and President had never said as much, Kara knew, had always known, that the Fleet might also be bringing the Apocalypse in their wake to an unsuspecting planet…and if that was the likely case, the Fleet would have to stay far clear of Earth.
She hadn't really considered that when orbiting the planet. Too sick from the radiation and also too elated over her discovery, the total lack of technology in space hadn't registered on her at the time. Now its meaning really sank in, arguing against the likelihood that the Colonials were going to find a civilization able to defend itself. So if what the Six said was true…then destroying the Hub could be the lynchpin to the survival of the entire human race.
Grimly trying to read the woman through the gloom, Kara realized that this might be the one thing that could convince the Old Man to accept the offer of an Alliance.
Assuming that it was true.
Currently she didn't know enough to judge that. There was too much that didn't make sense and Kara wasn't about to take such a thin proposition back to the Fleet without more information. One thing that had struck her from Leoben's comments earlier and now Natalie's was that this Cavil was somehow involved in the damage that surrounded her.
Why would one of their own attack the basestar—this basestar?
Another thought surfaced, making her breath hitch as she stiffened. Surely she wasn't important enough for them to fight over?
"Who attacked you? Why?" she demanded.
"We're at war, Kara." Leoben shifted closer as he answered, "There are those that blindly follow the lead of the Ones. But those of us whom have seen, have chosen another path."
Kara pushed away her instinctive rejection of the Two's ramblings, trying to force herself to listen objectively—but it was difficult. There had been too many despair-filled days spent tuning him out. Too many nightmares where she'd tried to escape his relentless demands. Shaking her head, she retreated a pace and narrowed her focus to the woman instead. Without looking, she felt Leoben withdraw…and found it easier to breathe despite the acrid tang of smoke in the air.
"Explain it to me," she ordered, focusing only on the female skinjob.
It only took a few minutes for the Six to relate the Raiders' refusal to attack the Colonial Fleet and Natalie's suspicion as to their reason. And while Kara couldn't see what the big deal was about lobotomizing the Cylon crafts, she understood the powerplay that was apparently going on between the two camps and how Natalie's group had successfully undercut Cavil's dominance by their removal of the Centurions' inhibitors. She wasn't surprised that the others had violated the truce and attacked the rebels.
"We weren't taken completely by surprise," Natalie said. "We had received a warning that Cavil was up to something. Unfortunately, it came without any helpful details. I never—" As Natalie broke off, her eyes shifted to the debris and bodies before she cleared her throat and continued, "We knew Cavil might try to box us, but never expected this."
Kara ruthlessly crushed a twinge of sympathy. It was about time the Cylons experienced the full cost of war, learned how it felt when those you cared about suffered and died. Maybe the frakkers would even kill each other off and save the Colonials the effort, she bitterly thought. And though the idea was grimly appealing, Kara only had to glance around to doubt that outcome.
And besides, Cavil sounded like a real asshole.
Thankful that the whole issue was above her pay-scale, Kara asked, "So what's the sit-rep? How many ships you got?" knowing that the Admiral would need details. Judging from the Six's grim expression, it wasn't going to be good news.
"We had three basestars under our control, but one was completely destroyed in the attack, and this one is dying. We're evacuating everyone to the third," her pause wasn't reassuring, "…but its FTL was damaged. We're trying to repair it."
"Can't you use one of the Raiders?" asked Kara. Then at Natalie's look of incomprehension, "Slave it to your FTL," she added.
"I don't…" the Six trailed off, still obviously perplexed.
Then Kara understood that the Cylons had never tried Athena's trick of grafting the brain from one of their ships. She considered lying, pretending she was talking about something else and just leaving the skinjobs behind in their crippled basestar and at the mercy of the others. But that brought her back around to the Resurrection Hub. Instinctively she knew that the Admiral and President were going to have to—regardless of how unwillingly—accept the offer of an alliance if the result was removing the Cylons' advantage of resurrection. Which meant…
"Athen—Sharon was able to pull the brain from a Heavy Raider and link it to a Raptor's FTL," she reluctantly explained. "Depending on your damage, maybe you could do the same."
Kara watched as first surprise and then revulsion crossed the other woman's face. She saw her swallow and then straighten before waving to a figure to join them.
As Simon stepped forward, "Can it be done?" the Six asked him, and Kara realized that the Cylon doctor had been unobtrusively observing their entire conversation from the shadows cast by the conduit's dim glow.
From the bloody, soot-smeared state of his white coat, Kara guessed that he'd been busy offering what aid he could to those injured during the fight. But apparently his input was valuable enough for the Six to have wanted him close during her discussion with Kara. Watching the man readjust his sling-locked arm, it wasn't difficult to see that he was uncomfortable at the idea she had suggested.
Finally he answered. "I don't know. I'll have to see how extensively the FTL's been impaired, but…I imagine that it's possible," he grudgingly confirmed.
"Look into it. If it's necessary…" Natalie didn't finish and Simon gave an unhappy nod in acknowledgment but didn't move immediately away, causing the Six to raise her brows inquiringly at him.
"Have we heard anything from Sharon?" he quietly asked, and it took a moment of confusion before Kara realized that they must be referring to another Eight and not Athena. Her thoughts shifted to Boomer and she gave Natalie a sharp look.
"Not yet," the Six replied, her tone conveying both hope and concern.
Simon's shoulders drooped slightly, yet he straightened as he met Kara's questioning look and said, "Be well, Starbuck," before quickly turning to hurry off.
Shaking off the distraction of the brief exchange, Kara asked, "So, one almost-functional ship. That's all you've got?" wondering if an alliance was even necessary. She knew about the Hub now, if she could uncover the location then the Galactica could probably take it out on her own.
Natalie's thoughts must have followed along approximately the same line of reasoning, for she curtly said, "The Hub changes locales frequently, its new coordinates transmitted back to the Hybrids. Working together, I'm sure we can find and destroy it," a warning note entered her voice, "but you'd never be able to do so on your own."
Wishing for more illumination in the chamber, Kara studied the other woman, considering the truth of her words. The skinjob was probably right. Galactica didn't have the resources to be sending out Raptors in a random search of star systems…and having a second ship, even if it was a damaged basestar, would both increase their chances of success and reduce the number of human causalities they'd take in any action against Cavil's forces. Thankfully reminding herself that she didn't have to like the idea and that the final decision was the Old Man's anyways, Kara gave the Six a hard smirk.
"Fine. I'll take your offer to the Admiral."
"Leoben will take you to a ship," Natalie said, raising her voice slightly and Kara saw the Two melt out of the shadows again.
"This way, Kara," he said without drawing too near, then turned and strode towards the archway.
She turned to follow, but then paused. Twisting back, she gave the Six a hard look before sighing.
"Look... You should know. That Six…Caprica Six," she grimaced at the name, "she's fine. She's in the brig, sure, but the Admiral's guaranteed her safety." Then she added, We aren't the Pegasus," disgust bolding her words.
"I already know," Natalie replied, then at Kara's startled look, "Leoben told me later. He said you'd already assured him of our sister's good health." Casting a dubious glance over her shoulder, Kara saw the Two silently waiting, silhouetted in the entrance of the chamber. She twitched her attention back around as Natalie continued, "I asked him why he believed you…and why he didn't say anything before I—" she broke off, her gaze dropping away from Kara's.
"What? Before you tried to strangle me?" Kara abruptly laughed, amused at the Six's discomfiture. With a smirk, "Don't worry about it. You're not the first that's wanted to," she said, finding much of her bitter anger at this particular skinjob assuaged by the woman's embarrassment.
"He also said that he hadn't wanted to interfere." At Kara's skeptical snort, "He seemed to think we needed to achieve a level of understanding without his biasing our perceptions," Natalie said, appearing a little perplexed, but Kara couldn't tell if it was in response to her unexpected jocularity or Leoben's words.
"For someone that claims to see the future, he's not very good at predicting us," Kara mocked.
"Perhaps," said Natalie, then added, "but when he told me about Caprica, he also said that you'd tell me yourself."
The Six shrugged as Kara shifted on her feet, uncomfortable at the woman's insinuation. Had Leoben really known that she'd feel compelled to keep her word if she was set free? That she'd tell her about Caprica Six? In so many ways the Two seemed to read Kara like a painting he'd studied for hours, yet at other times, his obtuseness over how his actions had affected her was staggering.
She shifted again, the conflicting emotions he always stirred making her want to pace…or run. Wrapping the discordant feelings in a blanket of foil, she smothered them and moved to where Leoben still waited. Steps echoed behind her as she halted before the Two when he didn't immediately turn and lead the way out.
"The three are to go as well?" he asked, addressing Natalie over her shoulder. At his words, Kara wondered what he meant, then corrected herself, whom he meant. With a mental shrug, she figured they were probably just sending representatives to act as a delegation of sorts.
As Leoben looked back at her, his lips quirked up and she guessed that he must have received his hoped for answer. Chafing now under his regard, she sarcastically asked, "We going or what?"
When she moved to follow Leoben, the woman behind her said, "Good luck Kara Thrace," and then barely discernibly added, "may God guide your path for us all." Her unexpected words of faith nearly caused Kara to stumble. With the pragmatism she'd seen in the rebel leader, she'd forgotten that the Sixes were almost as fervently religious as the Twos. In a distant way, Natalie reminded her of Laura.
With Leoben in the lead, they moved along the dimming corridors, passing the bodies of the dead and a few limping stragglers heading in the same direction. The flight deck struck Kara as reassuringly familiar in its controlled chaos as the small number of surviving Heavy Raiders shuttled the Cylons off the dying basestar
Leoben led her with confident strides towards one of the waiting vessels. When he waved her to proceed him up the ramp, Kara had to smother the impulse to do a walk-around inspection. Established patterns were difficult to ignore, adding to her unease as she made her way from the aft section where crates had been strapped down towards the front. The row of inward-facing passenger seats that lined the forward section were empty and Kara wondered where the others were that Leoben had mentioned. Just grateful that having passengers meant she wasn't going to be stuck alone with Leoben again, she moved up the wide aisle separating the body of the Heavy and the cockpit. The pair of seats for the pilots were also extra-large, probably to accommodate the Centurion's frame. She automatically slid into the one on the left.
From just behind her, "You've flown a Heavy?" Leoben asked from his position in the aisle and slightly back.
"Yes," she retorted, uneasy with having him so close, yet where she'd have to twist awkwardly around to see him. She relented enough to grudgingly add, "Athena showed me. After Caprica." Trying to ignore the awareness of his near presence, Kara ran a mental checklist, refamiliarizing herself with the controls and beginning the start-up procedures. Honestly, she was a little surprised that Leoben had let her take point like this. As she settled into the role of pilot, Kara was able to set aside her concerns about the Two's motives and her responsibilities to the Fleet. She wouldn't really be able to get a feel for the ship until they were out in the unrestricting folds of space.
Immersed in the pre-flight prep, she temporarily forgot that Leoben still occupied the aisle behind her until she craned her head around at the sound of steps coming up the ramp. His body blocked her view of the passengers as they took their seats, but she frowned as she caught a glimpse of white material. None of the humanoid models that she'd seen had been dressed in the same sweats they'd given her, and she'd come to think of them as a prisoner outfit. Yet, if that were the case, then had one or more of the passengers also been a Cylon captive?
Her fingers were already reaching to release the buckles that secured her in place, curiosity and a vague premonition urging her aft, when Leoben leaned over her shoulder into her personal space. She instinctively drew back.
Pointing at a toggle to the side, "That's for the ramp," he said.
"I got it, so back-the-frak-off," she snapped. Meeting his bemused look at the awkward angle enforced by his position, she gritted her teeth, reminding herself not to let his intimate manner get to her. Swiveling her focus back to the controls, she flicked the indicated toggle and felt the vibration of ramp's gears. The slight jolt as it locked in place was confirmed by the green light on the dash. Then the clang of metal-on-metal and sense of movement signaled that they were being towed to the launch bay.
"You could just set the Raider for departure and it'll automatically take us out," Leoben suggested as he took the second seat and belted in. "That's the advantage of the Heavy Raiders, they've enough sentience to pilot themselves, interface with a Centurion or be manually maneuvered at need."
"I already know all that, so just shut up and hang on," Kara said as she tried to plot a flightpath through the other outgoing and incoming ships. Silently cursing, she knew that she ought to concede the point and turn the controls over to the ship's onboard brain, but she'd been under the Cylons' thumb for too long now. She was sick of them, sick of feeling helpless. She just wanted the hell out of here.
Disregarding Leoben's side-long look and the way he gripped the arms of his seat, she applied thrust and directed the ship's nose towards a hole in the flow of outbound ships. The craft felt sluggish beneath her hands compared to a Viper and she had to allow for the differences as she jockeyed it among the others making towards the basestar's maw. As they were spit out into the black of space, she breathed a sigh and smirked as it was echoed by the figure in the co-pilot's seat.
Their relief might have been hasty though as she had to skew the Raider to the starboard to avoid debris sent their way by an explosion. In fact, the entire starfield was littered with the remains of the destroyed basestar and hundreds of Cylon Raiders.
Heading on a trajectory she hoped would thread them out of the worst of the wreckage, the lingering doubt she'd had about the truth of the Civil War was laid to rest. There was no frakking way even the Cylons would've staged all this just to trick her into leading them to the Fleet.
As she grew more confident with the controls of the transport, Kara swung it around to get a good look at the one functional basestar. She grimaced as she took in the battle damage to its superstructure. Then her eyes widened as they shifted to the ship they just left. Whole sections of its starfish-like appendages were gone and she could see spreading fires all along its upper sections. The thing looked like it could blow at any time.
Natalie had better get her people off ASAP.
Pulling the craft's nose away, Kara felt a swirl of guilt. She clamped her jaw shut, grinding down and reminding herself that she wasn't leaving comrades behind, but the enemy. Whatever they got, they'd brought on themselves.
After surveying their position to make sure that they were well out of reach of any of the debris, Kara glanced to her right at Leoben.
"We need to get the frak outta here," she said, "but I don't know which way," hating that she really did need his help, at least for the initial jump and until she could get a grasp on how the Raider's NAV system functioned.
"You know where to find the Galactica, Kara?"
"If I can access to my Raptor, then yeah," she replied, only a partial lie.
Kara knew that the Fleet was headed towards the Ion Nebula. She even knew the coordinates—a fact she'd planned on protecting with her life. So, depending on how long she'd been stuck on the basestar, she still had hopes of reaching the Nebula first. The Admiral's SOP had been to jump, then allow time to plot a course for the next one, do a maintenance check on each ship's systems and in general give people a chance to rest between. After having experienced the fatigue of continuous FTL jumps every thirty-three minutes, Kara knew that the Old Man wouldn't push their pace without cause. With luck on her side, she could beat the Galactica there.
"It was significantly damaged," Leoben said doubtfully, pulling her attention from attempts to calculate of how many jumps it might take to catch up. It took her a moment to realize that he was speaking about her Raptor as he continued, "We left it behind on the planet where we found you."
She frowned, her memory of landing the shuttle and its condition a vague haze caused by stims withdrawal and radiation poisoning. There had been smoke—seared circuits—and rows of red indicators flashing the Raptor's distress.
Frak!
Her initial plan had been to repair the Raptor and continue on without the Cylons, figuring that she could take their proposal back to the Admiral and leave it up to him to pursue a meeting or not. Of course, that just highlighted a flaw she hadn't considered before. The rebels weren't going to be hanging around at the ambush site any longer than necessary—and she didn't know their rendezvous point. Side-eying Leoben, Kara decided to try later to get those coordinates. Her immediate goal was, as she'd already told him, to put some distance between herself and Cavil's crazies.
"Then that's where we go," she said with an expectant glare at the Two to enter the coordinates of the first jump.
As he returned her look with a contemplative one of his own, Kara wasn't sure if he was trying to discern her inner thoughts—or just running calculations in his head. She had no idea if the Cylon had to rely on computers for plotting, but shoved the thought aside as he leaned forward and punched numbers into the ship's onboard system.
At his nod, she keyed the Raider's FTL and braced for the moment of dislocation. Seconds later and she blinked to focus on the starfield visible through the narrow visor slots of the craft. After ascertaining that they were alone in this section of space, she leaned forward, noting their new coordinates. Kara tentatively input numbers for the NAV to run, intent on learning how to compute their current location on her own. As she grimly read the results, she hoped that they were closer to the algae planet than it appeared from the current plot.
"Leave it for a moment, Kara," Leoben said, having unbuckled and shifted into the aisle at her side again. As she glanced up at him, "We should see to that cut of yours. Clean it up. I've a kit with supplies in back," he said, then hesitated, concern tightening the corners of his eyes. An unpleasant feeling of dread made her trigger the release on her belts and twist around to fully face him.
"Kara, there's something you need to know."