Chapter 123 Nebulous Resolutions
As the Ionian Nebula bloomed across the Raider's window slits, Kara's breath caught in her throat at the vibrant colors. It was startlingly beautiful and for a moment everything else receded before the humbling tableau.
Gods, I've missed this!
Shaking herself free of the enthralling view, Kara dropped her reluctant gaze to the Dradis and glared at the lack of Colonial transponders lighting its screen. Swallowing the fear that she was too late, she reminded herself that it was still possible that they had just arrived ahead of Galactica. Yet she couldn't completely silence the other voice that whispered that it was also just as likely that she'd once again been too slow, that the Fleet had already been in-system and moved on.
Jabbing commands into the console, she set the Heavy's sensors to search for any evidence or emissions that would indicate that a large group of vessels had recently occupied this section of space. If Galactica had been here within the last few days, there was still the chance that a dispersion trail would at least linger long enough to point them in the right general direction.
With the system set to automatically perform a grid search, Kara leaned back and rested her eyes. She had hoped—prayed—that they'd find the Fleet still occupying the Nebula. But if they had already come and gone…
She sat up again, too consumed by bitter disappointment to rest. Rubbing at gritty eyes with her knuckles, she tried to decide what to do next if the search came up empty. Did she push on, randomly jumping in the hopes of stumbling across the Fleet's trail, or should she hold station here on the chance that they'd beaten the battlestar to the Nebula?
"Frak," she muttered, trying to work some moisture back into her dry mouth.
Slapping the belt release, Kara stiffly stood and shifted her attention to the murmuring sound of voices from the passenger section. She frowned, really not wanting to go back there and deal with all the complications the various skinjobs represented. Her fingers unconsciously sought the reassurance of the gun's presence before she realized what she was doing and lowered her hand to her side. A rumble from her stomach called attention to the fact that it had been too many hours since she'd last eaten—or even had anything to drink—and that she needed to take care of herself if she was going to be able to stay sharp and ready in case there was a confrontation coming.
Straightening her shoulders, Kara took a deep breath and strode aft.
As the murmur grew into recognizable words, she caught the tail-end of Ellen Tigh's comment, "…way we can be certain," and four heads swiveled her way with varying degrees of caution reflected in their eyes.
Sweeping them with a uniformly smug grin, "Don't let me interrupt," she said with false cheerfulness as she surveyed the group. Reading nothing but a deep hostility in D'Anna's expression, Kara ignored her and turned her gaze to the others. Ellen appeared as composed as ever while Sam looked relieved to see her and ready to rise, but he subsided at the coolness in her eyes.
Reluctantly turning her full attention to Leoben, Kara's eyes narrowed on his bruised jaw and split lip. Based on the coloring, the damage looked to be a day or two old, yet she couldn't remember noticing it before now. Searching her memory for when she'd last seen the Two, she frowned, disturbed that in her increasingly exhausted push to their destination, she hadn't been more aware of his absence in the cockpit. Why had he suddenly gone from insisting on being at her side continuously to avoiding her? And a side-glance at Sam's hands was sufficient evidence of who had caused the damage, but the why now still eluded Kara.
Leoben's discolored face wasn't the only change she realized, struck again by the diffidence in his posture. Gone was the absolute assurance he had always conveyed before—even while being tortured on the Geminon Traveler—instead, the set of his shoulders and the way he held his arms tightly crossed gave her the impression that he was holding back a great need.
Perplexed by the alteration, Kara scrutinized him before deciding that he didn't look like someone plotting a mutiny. If anything, he appeared a person that had suffered a devastating epiphany. Not that she felt any sympathy for bastard she reminded herself. No, it was only important because it made predicting the Two's actions more difficult if she suddenly didn't know what motivated him. She mentally shrugged; all she could do was keep a better eye on him.
At the lingering silence, "We're at the Ionian Nebula," she informed them. "We wait for the Galactica here, so everyone get comfortable." Without giving them time to respond, she turned away and moved over to open the storage crate that held what remained of the Raider's MREs. After picking one at random from the unmarked selection, she then flipped the lid on another box and rummaged among the empties until she found an unopened bottle of water. From the looks of their remaining supply, the others hadn't been rationing at all and a flicker of ready anger made her slam the top back on before twisting around.
Her eyes flitted about the cabin as she noticed that they were suddenly a person short, then realized that D'Anna must have disappeared into the tiny head. Shoving aside her unease at having the Three out of sight, she watched as Ellen released the restraint belts that had still held the older woman in her place.
"I take it we can safely leave our seats now without the risk of your tossing us about?" Ellen acerbically asked.
"Probably," replied Kara with a careless shrug, not feeling the need to apologize for her manner of alerting them of upcoming jumps. They both knew that it was her way of putting the Cylons literally in their place, and while Ellen Tigh probably wasn't aligned with the other skinjobs, Kara certainly didn't have any proof that she should trust the XO's wife either.
Watching Sam solicitously steady the woman as she straightened to her feet, Kara frowned. Had Ellen's hand lingered just a little too possessively on his arm? And had the brief look they shared hinted of an intimacy that she hadn't noticed before?
As Kara wondered just how close the pair had become in the past months, she was surprised to feel a stir of jealousy and looked away only to meet Leoben's shadowed gaze. This time his eyes didn't flit aside from her regard as he, too, stood. When he took a step towards her, Kara instinctively moved back, her heel connecting with the crate behind and halting her motion. Trying to play off her reaction, she hitched a hip up and half-sat on the top as she forced her expression into insolent unconcern, but knew that she hadn't fooled Leoben when he halted and his gaze dropped to the plating at his feet.
What's his frakkin' problem?
Hoping to get some idea of where his head was, "Thought we were conserving water," she asked, shaking the bottle in explanation as his eyes lifted to hers again. Twisting the cap off, she chugged half the contents without taking her gaze from his.
"We've plenty for at least five more days," his neutral answer.
"It was suppose to be enough to last for twice that long," she said, her tone grim as she screwed the lid back on and set the bottle beside the unopened MRE packet.
She felt more than saw Sam sidle closer as he quietly said, "Kara, you know that if Galactica isn't here by then, we've got to head for the basestar's rendezvous point."
"Not happening," her reply framed in steel. "We stay or follow the fleet."
"You know where they're going?" Ellen skeptically asked.
Kara gave her a guarded look before answering, "Maybe." Then, ignoring the evident doubt conveyed in the other woman's compressed lips, she firmly added, "We give it five days here, then move on."
"You heard him," Sam gave a twitch of his head in Leoben's direction. "We don't have the supplies to just cast on the slim chance we come across Galactica," he pressed. As he moved to her side, Kara's temper heated to a slow burn. Didn't even Sam get it? There was no way in hell that she was ever willingly returning to the basestar. She'd had enough. Whatever happened out here, Kara was determined to never again find herself at the Cylons' mercy. Restraining the impulse to reach again for the comfort of the weapon, she propped her knuckles on her hips instead and gave him a hard look.
"We go on, not back."
"We can restock and continue," Leoben carefully put in, and Kara eyed him from half-lidded lashes as he added, "It'll only delay us by a few of days." At her skeptical look, "The rendezvous coordinates are closer than I would've expected," he explained.
Kara stiffened, his revelation that the basestar's supposedly pre-arranged meeting point was actually near enough to reach in such a short time sounding a discordant warning in her mind. Had the frakker's known all along where the Fleet had been heading? Or had the Cylons been tracking her since the initial jump? Leoben certainly could've made contact with a trailing Raider during one of the few times she'd grudgingly conceded to rest. And since he hadn't shared the coordinates, she had no way of knowing if it was a coincidence…or if the Cylons had found a way to relay updated numbers to him without her knowledge.
Suspicious that duplicity instead of remorse was a better explanation for his recent behavior, Kara's hand rose to her waist, but a grip on her wrist stopped the motion and her gaze leaped to Sam's as he gave her the smallest of headshakes. She was about to yank free when the sound of a hatch opening pulled her attention to another possible threat source and she twisted to see D'Anna heel-kick the door of the lavatory closed behind her.
"I see you've all been getting friendly while I was indisposed," the Three mocked, and Kara's hand instinctively strained towards the gun again.
But as Sam's grasp held firm, Kara's gaze whipped back to his and she said through gritted teeth, "Get off of me," and the acrimony in her eyes forced him to reluctantly release her and retreat a half pace.
"Now where's that loving couple I remember?" taunted D'Anna, but this time Kara didn't turn, her attention focused on trying to leash her building anger. The Three wasn't done though as she smugly continued, "Oh ya, that's right. There's Apollo to consider. Just how has the Commander been? I imagine that the two of you've had loads of time over the past few months to…catch up. Especially with the inconvenient hubby safely dead."
Guilt and rage clashed within her as Kara saw Sam's eyes darken with jealous doubt. The urge to assure him that nothing had happened between her and Lee was at odds with the knowledge that she now regretted that it hadn't.
"That's enough, D'Anna," admonished Ellen, making a shooing motion for the woman to back off. Moving closer until she caught Kara's gaze, Ellen said, "I understand that you want to get back to the Galactica, so do I," she paused briefly and Kara saw her expression flicker with longing before refocusing and she repeated, "I do, too. And I know how exhausted you must be, what with the nightmares and all." Kara's eyes widened and darted between Ellen and Sam, noting the flash in his eyes as he looked over her shoulder to where Leoben stood silently watching.
"Nightmares?" she tightly demanded, already guessing what the older woman meant but futilely hoping otherwise.
"Not surprising after all you've been through," Ellen cast a disapproving frown towards the pair beyond Kara's line of sight.
"What I've been through?" Kara knew she sounded ridiculous repeating Ellen like this and yet she didn't want to accept that the four of them had been discussing her. Which was stupid, she thought mockingly. Of course they had. And as the older woman gave her a pitying look, it confirmed that some of what had happened on New Caprica had certainly come up, too. It would also likely explain Leoben's recent injuries—and Sam's part in them. But Kara liked to think that if Sam knew everything that had happened, Leoben would have more than a few bruises to show for it.
Kara's bitterness deepened as Ellen continued.
"Yes, and Leoben deeply regrets what he put you through."
Now Kara swung slowly around, her eyes raking the Two as she harshly said, "Bullshit," and watched him flinch under her flaying glare.
"Kara, don—" Sam started.
"Leave off!" she snapped, and shook loose of his restraining hand to advance on the sandy-haired Cylon.
"You regret it?" her tone dared Leoben to defend his actions.
He seemed to gather himself as if attempting to pull the cloak of his former assurance about him to ward off the condemnation in her eyes.
"I regret I caused you harm, Kara. It wasn't my intent," he quietly responded. "My plan was to find someone to love and hope she'd love me back. And then try anything to get her to stay."
"Even if that meant using frakkin' lies and somebody else's child?" she growled, barely able to get the words past her clenched jaw.
"In my arrogance, I thought my visions were proof that you would love me. And-and—" he briefly faltered, then pressed on, "I assumed that securing that love was worth any means."
Kara was shaking her head, his talk of love touching on too many memories of a childhood spent seeking proof of her mother's, and then marred further by all the different forms of pain she'd come to associate with allowing another person to get that close.
Somehow Leoben had shifted nearer, and he lowered his voice as he leaned in to say, "We had a connection. I know you fought it. But you felt it."
"The only thing I felt was your blood on my hands, bastard," her words tarred with warning as she refused to be the one to back away this time.
"Leoben," Ellen's tone held a note of censure as if correcting an errant child.
Kara saw him glance at the older woman and his expression tightened before he gave an acknowledging nod and withdrew a pace.
When his eyes returned to hers, they were shadowed once again as he endured her hostile glare and murmured, "How is it possible for someone to love and hate someone as much as you do me?"
…and it was all Kara could do not to fling herself at his throat.
Instead she ground out, "You got the hate part right," then took a steadying breath, realizing that she was letting him get inside her head again—not that she'd ever really been able to scour him out in the months since New Caprica. The stain of his 'love' had left her with a taint that no amount of talking seemed able to blot away.
Silence stretched out as his hooded gaze held Kara's.
Then D'Anna's challenging tone shattered their standoff as she said, "If the basestar's that close, I vote we go now." All eyes turned to her as she added, "I've had enough of this farce and besides, no one asked if I wanted to come along on this fool's errand in the first place!"
"An alliance is important, my dea—" Ellen tried to say, only to be interrupted by the Three's harsh laugh.
"It's never gonna happen," D'Anna derisively stated. With a scornful nod towards Kara and Leoben, "Look at them. Humans aren't gonna forgive and you're all blind and stupid if you think otherwise." And as Ellen's lips thinned, she went on, "And I'm not gonna be stuck here for another five days while those two thrash out their issues until either she kills him or Leoben fraks her senseless in front of us."
D'Anna's words were barely out of her mouth before Sam was on her, shoving the Three against the bulkhead with his forearm across her throat.
"Keep your mouth shut!" he yelled in D'Anna's startled face.
Before anyone had a chance to react to Sam's attack, the proximity alarm sounded, jerking Kara's attention around and she rushed to the cockpit. Elation surged through her as the Dradis display showed multiple 'hostile' symbols lighting its screen with even more appearing as she avidly watched.
It was the Fleet.
She hadn't been too late. Not this time!
"Yes!" Her palm smacked the panel with relieved vindication.
But then the indicators began to flash and Kara watched dumbfounded as the Colonial icons began disappearing from the board.
What…
The Heavy Raider's lights began to flicker and across the panel the gauges erratically dropped as the shuttle lost power.
Abruptly the entire system went down.
Blind in the resulting absolute blackness, Kara fought panic and groped her hands along the ship's toggles and switches, trying desperately to initiate some response—any response from the ship.
Slapping the metallic surface now in frustrated fear, Kara lifted her gaze and realized that there was some illumination visible from the nebula through the visor slits. And she saw that Galactica and her consorts had jumped in close enough that their own lights were discernible. Yet, even as her eyes clung to them, Kara could see the nearest failing and watched in growing horror as a rolling blackout spread from vessel to vessel.
In her chest it felt like her heart stopped as Kara envisioned the now-powerless ships drifting helpless. It had to be a trap…and she had just sprung it for the Cylons.
Her breathless despair turned to sick rage as the Raider's emergency lighting finally came on. The gun was in her hand as Kara spun and covered the short distance aft in a rush. She was on Leoben before he even had a chance to voice the question he'd started to frame, pistol whipping him across the temple and then driving him to the metal decking with a flurry of punches from her free fist.
Standing over his prostrate form, "What did you do? Trigger an EMP burst?" she shouted, her voice cresting on dread and hate. "The Fleet's dead in space, you motherfrakker!" He grunted as the ball of her foot slammed into his side.
Gasping up at her, "You can't…think I had…anything to do with that," he protested, eyes seeking hers as Kara leveled the gun on his head.
The grip of the pistol felt slick in her damp palm and Kara tightened her hold as the flush of betrayal fed the rage. Through her clenched jaw she ground out, "While I was too busy believing in some godsdamn destiny, you setup an ambush. I let you frak me all over again. Believed the lies. Only it won't be just me you frak this time, will it." Again her voice rose in a shout, "WILL IT!" she demanded and followed with another vicious kick to his ribs. "It was a setup. Say it!"
She was leaning over him now, heedless of the danger in getting too close; but Leoben didn't move to disarm her. He remained placid instead, drawing careful breaths as he grimaced up at her.
"Hit me. Hit me again," he offered, eyes opaque and his bloody face a mask now.
"You used me to lead you to the Fleet," she bitterly accused.
He grimaced, tonguing his bleeding lip as he held her gaze. "How many times did you kill me on New Caprica? Don't stop now. Go on, do it," he goaded. "I won't come back this time, that I promise. The resurrection ship's well out of range this time." Jutting his chin, "Go on, do it…" Then harshly, "DO IT!" he yelled, voice stained with desperate contrition.
Kara clutched the pistol's grip as she flinched away from Leoben's shouted demand. She wanted to. The gods knew how much she wanted to do exactly that: to shoot him between the eyes, to watch his head explode backwards, to maybe finally end the painful conflict he incited in her. Her hand trembled with her need, yet she found herself unable to will the necessary motion.
All she had to do was squeeze the trigger...
"Just do it already," D'Anna's derisive voice came from behind Kara. "It's what you've wanted every since he raped you. So get on with it," she prodded, then stumbled back as Kara spun in place, gun slashing out to slam into the Three's forehead. D'Anna fell against Sam who promptly flung her aside as his shocked gaze locked on Kara's enraged face.
Her eyes met his blue ones and she realized that Sam hadn't know all that Leoben had done to her—at least not until that moment. Shame doused much of her rage and she twisted back to see Leoben regarding her with the remorse so at odds with his usual guise.
"I'm sorr—" he began, then broke off with a gasp as his leg splintered beneath the impact of a bullet.
"Sorry! You're frakkin' sorry?" she spat out, bring the gun again in line with his face as she attempted to stoke the rage back to the surface. Anything to smear away the disgust she visualized filling Sam's expression behind her. But as much as she needed the anger, it chose now to gutter out and Kara bitterly knew why. She deserved the revulsion her husband was undoubtedly feeling towards her. Hadn't she had a choice on New Caprica? It might have been impossible to fight her way free from the detention center, but there had been one means of escape open to her—and she'd been too cowardly to do it. She had let Leoben use her…and now Sam knew she had.
All of Laura's words were forgotten in an avalanche of self-loathing as Kara stood over her tormentor with her ex-dead husband at her back. Unable to recognize another path, she fell into the ingrained method of preservation she'd learned over painful years—she lashed out. Lifting her bare foot, Kara stomped down on the exposed bones of Leoben's lower leg and felt the Two writhe in agony. But she wasn't prepared for the feel of pulped flesh beneath her heel and it flung her back into another time, sending her reeling when the apartment on New Caprica coalesced around her.
"No, no, no, no," Kara moaned as she pressed her palm to her forehead, frantic to push through the memory. It worked: the Raider's interior abruptly snapped into place around her again. She was breathing hard as she stared down at the panting Two and the spreading pool of red by his mangled calf.
Lifting the gun, she sighted down its barrel and held Leoben's pained gaze. Yet she didn't squeeze the trigger. Her hand slowly wavered and then fell to her side as she acknowledged the disconsolate grief in his eyes. The dregs of her anger were wet ash in her mouth and her thirst for vengeance had been doused at the same time.
As a deep chill swept apathy through her, Kara didn't resist when the weapon was taken from her hand. In her peripheral vision, she saw a muscled arm raise the gun and then the piercing echo of a shot rang in her ears as Leoben's head was flung back by the force of the projectile.
She blinked with incomprehension and slowly turned to the man at her side. Sam still stood with the pistol extended in readiness to shoot again, and a distant part of Kara knew that she should say something, but the cold held her frozen in a glacier of lassitude.
"The bastard'll never touch you again."
The sound of Sam's hoarse voice barely registered, but D'Anna's jeering laughter shifted Kara's eyes to where the woman still lay sprawled, looking amused at what had played out before her and oblivious to the danger that she might be next. As Sam twisted to face the Three, Ellen stepped between them, her shocked pallor evident despite the poor lighting.
"Enough!" she snapped, hand against his chest as she repeated, "Enough, Samuel."
Anders shook his head and looked ready to shove past the older woman when Kara found her own voice speaking without her conscious thought.
"She's right... No more. Can't risk it." Kara honestly wasn't sure whether she meant risk what further damage gunfire might to do the craft…or to her own frozen state, feeling like it would take but a nudge and she would irretrievably shatter.
Something of her condition must have gotten through to Sam, for he tucked the gun away and stalked off to a corner without another word. Kara was distantly grateful…and as distantly pained by his withdrawal—the evidence of his rejection.
"Kar—" Ellen's soft inquiry was interrupted by the sound of the ship's systems coming online and the harsh illumination of its usually lighting.
As the Raider's power ramped up, Kara's sense of inertia was abruptly broken and she swiveled to race forward, frantic to check the Fleet's status. A quick glance through the narrow viewpanes confirmed that the Colonial vessels had also regained power and the Dradis signaled their reassuring presence once more. Her eyes searched the readout for some sign of Cylon vessels, but hers appeared to be the only one in-system. Fearing that that might not be the case at any moment, Kara keyed the communications, eager to alert the Admiral to her situation and to warn him of the Cylon treachery. After all, just because the area was clear of basestars now, it didn't mean it was going to remain so for much longer. She needed to dock the Heavy ASAP so the Fleet could jump away before that changed.
Static feedback met her attempts to bring the comm online.
She stared in disbelief at the red indicator light that reported the malfunction and caught her breath on a sharp inhale. The irony that the gunshots that had injured and killed Leoben had then gone on to penetrate the Raider's decking and damaged the comm unit was almost enough to wrench away Kara's thin grasp on her sanity. Her gaze lifted and it was as if she could see Galactica's defenses coming to bare on them. Soon surrounding space would be filled with a swarm of Vipers intent on blowing her from existence—and this time she hadn't had the forethought to tape her name on the undercarriage of the shuttle.
With eyes screwed shut, Kara futilely pounded her fists on the console and cursed the gods for their malicious game of give and take. As despair filled her, she wondered if it would be Lee that triggered the missile that would obliterate her into mere particles and complete her journey to failure.
The thought of the younger Adama abruptly snapped her upright in the seat and Kara glared out at the visible bulk of the battlestar. Then her hands flew across the panel, killing the drive and cutting off power to all the systems. She even cut life-support and the reflexively shivered as the Heavy was plunged into darkness once again. From the aft section she could hear the swears and sounds of people colliding with objects as the light went out again. She ignored them, intent on only what she hoped was happening on the distant ship.
Would the Old Man choose to investigate the lone Raider? She knew that her system's fluctuations had to be as apparent to him as his was to her—or so she hoped. If he would just be curious enough to have a Raptor haul them aboard, she'd get the chance to reveal herself. On the other hand, the Admiral was as likely—maybe more so given the power outage—to order the Cylon ship destroyed and jump immediately away. All she could do was appear as non-threatening as possible and hope that the gods weren't quite done playing with one Kara Thrace.
Heavy breathing warned her of his approach before Sam spoke.
"Damn it, Kara. What the frak's happening," he demanded from just behind her shoulder.
"Comm's dead. So are we if Galactica doesn't buy our harmless act," she relented enough to answer. As his presence shifted, she could tell that he was groping his way towards the second chair and heard the cushion give beneath his settling weight.
Then, "About what that basta—" his disembodied voice was taut with emotions she couldn't unravel, but she cut him off.
"Shut up, Sam," she ordered, surprised at how composed her own sounded.
"I didn't know, Kara, or I swear I would've killed him before," he hastily tried to explain.
"What about shut up don't you get," now her words were fletched in edged steel.
"It's jus—"
"NO!We are NOT discussing this!" and like that, the steel glowed fiery red as if just pulled from the furnace and spliced through his protest. Then, trying to quench the burst of fury, Kara gripped the armrest of her seat and took several slow breaths. Forcing her words to calmness, "Where's the others?" she asked, and could almost feel his gaze as he strove to pierce the darkness between them—if only it were just due to the lack of light.
Finally, "Ellen insisted on D'Anna belting back into her seat," he said, then bitterly added, "as if that'll keep her quiet." He then huffed an incredulous laugh. "Used to be that I liked the Threes. At least I remember liking them before Cavil made a point in causing a division between our models. The Threes used to be fun to be around. Witty and sexy as hell…" he trailed off, abruptly aware of what he'd said and probably afraid how she'd take it.
His slip rolled off her as the emotional yo-yo of the past hour—days—weeks left Kara feeling a queasy fatigue that couldn't be rocked any further by such a benign comment.
Taking her silence as permission to continue, "I know she's the enemy. She certainly was on Caprica and New Caprica, but it's weird, this double-memory of how it was before," he said, sounding baffled and frustrated at his inability to reconcile the disparate realities.
"She's a frakkin' Cylon, what do you expect," Kara replied before even realizing she had. And she didn't have to see to know that Sam had flinched at the rancor in her tone. Muttering a curse under her breath, "Didn't mean it like that," she muttered, feeling the need to apologize. After all, it wasn't his fault that he was a skinjob…not anymore than it was hers that she was a whore, right? Lost in the logic—or illogic—of that thought, Kara didn't notice the flicker of the thrusters of the first launch of Vipers.
"Shit! Now what?" Sam's question took a moment to sink in and Kara squinted out, eyes narrowing as she spotted the closing fighters.
"Pray, Sammie," she murmured in response.
As the Colonial attack craft entered what she calculated was firing range, Kara considered adding her own prayers, but decided against it. If the gods weren't interested in listening to her pleas, well then she didn't feel much like wasting the effort on them either. Besides, whatever happened in the next few seconds wasn't going to be changed by a few fervent words of worship.
It took all of her resolve to not reach for the Raider's weapons control; sitting vulnerable when she had other options went against the grain on a gut-deep level that made her palms itch. Seeking a distraction and any idea that might increase their odds of not being turned into floating debris, Kara weighed the pros and cons of trying to signal with the shuttle's external lights.
Rubbing her damp palms along the stiff fabric of her sweatpants, she decided that their best bet was still to play dead. The irony of that cause a bubble of inappropriate mirth and she began to chuckle.
Play dead.
Well, since everyone in the Fleet probably thought that she, Sam and Ellen already were, it was a role they ought to be good at, right?
The sound of the man in the seat beside her quietly repeating what might have been curses as well as prayers was enough to curb the borderline hysteria that had threatened to dislodge Kara's thin grip on her control.
As the hostile Vipers came nearer, far closer than necessary for a sure shot, Kara began to actually believe that they might survive this day. She jumped though, when a jolt and ringing clang impacted the hull, at first thinking that she'd been wrong. But as the ship remained intact, her held breath hissed out on the realization that a Raptor must have used a grappling harpoon to hook her ship.
"Looks like we're about to rise from the dead after all, Sammie," she quipped, running hands through her tangled hair, abruptly aware of exactly how shocking her appearance—all of theirs—was going to be to the crew of Galactica. Not that it really mattered. There was no way she smelled worse than she had after flying the Cylon fighter back from that moon. If the stink came off before, she was sure that one of the Chief's scouring pads would do the job fine this time, too.
The thought of the Chief sent her mind spinning off on other tangents. Should she pretend that she didn't know about the three infiltrators until she had the chance to get the Admiral alone? Or was she better off immediately confronting them with her knowledge of what they were?
In the thin glow that filtered from the Raptor's thrusters through the visor slits, Kara squinted at the man in the second seat. The fact that he and Ellen were alive—and obviously Cylons—was going to give her the best opening she'd likely have. And they could back her accusations, too. Yet, if on her revealing their identity the Chief or the XO decided to fight, Kara knew that the Marines would undoubtedly be caught off guard, unprepared to believe her word—so recently returned from the dead herself—over men they knew and respected.
No, it would be better to fill in the Old Man privately. Give him time to come to terms with the truth before placing the three under arrest. What he would chose to do with them from there she didn't know, but she did still have the offer of an alliance to make. Well, that was once she got it straight whether the Cylons had betrayed her or not. And the longer that the basestars stayed conspicuously absent the less likely that they had. But if not them, then what had caused every vessel in-system to loose power at nearly the exact same time? Was there something about the Ionian Nebula that intrinsically affected their ships? And if so, why had the power then apparently been restored on its own?
Shaking her head, Kara shoved aside the questions. First thing she had to worry about was convincing the Old Man that she was really her and not a resurrected Cylon.
[ I I I I I ]
After a couple of weeks out of the cockpit, Lee felt strangely uncomfortable in the jocksmock, like he was trying to crawl back into a skin he'd shed. But when the power had gone out fleetwide, he hadn't hesitated. He didn't know what had hit them, yet the likelihood of it being the prelude to a Cylon attack was a given and he wasn't about to stand by while others defended the ship.
Now, as he nudged the altitude thrusters to shift just the slightest bit closer to the powered down Heavy Raider, Lee wondered again why he'd urged the Admiral to investigate the craft verses just immediately destroying it. The fact that it had apparently suffered the same drain on its systems as the Colonial ships wasn't explanation enough for his gut instinct to not just slag the vessel.
As he had sealed his helmet in prep for launch, Lee had heard Gaeta's report over his command comm that the enemy shuttle had regained power just as they had, yet had then voluntarily, he assumed, shut down everything, including life-support.
Why?
What game were they try to play now?
Lee figured that the Cylons had found some method of employing an EMP pulse to render the human ships helpless. And like everyone else, he had assumed as he launched in his Viper that he'd be facing overwhelming numbers in the futile hope of buying enough time for the fleet's FTLs to spinup from a cold start. But instead of multiple basestars and a hoard of Raiders, they faced only a lone Heavy that had all but rolled over and exposed its belly in surrender.
It smelled of a trap. Yet why would the Cylons bother? The Admiral had passed on to him that it would take a good fifteen minutes yet before they could expect to jump, so what were the Toasters waiting for?
The Vipers had been ordered into a formation that allowed them the optimum coverage and yet didn't spread them beyond support range of each other. So, if the Heavy's intentions had been to lure a group of the humans within a blast area, it wasn't going to succeed. In fact, Lee had commanded his wingman and flanker to maintain their distance while he eased cautiously in closer for a better look; with the Raider's power out, though, he hadn't been able to see anything through the small windows in its forward section. If there were skinjobs in there, he couldn't tell.
On reporting what he'd found he had urged the Admiral to retrieve the Raider, justifying the risk on the basis that if the Cylons had found some way of knocking the Colonial ships' systems offline, the more they learned about it the better. What he didn't tell his father was that there was this gut-deep familiarity, a sense of déjà vu that he couldn't shake. Either way, the Admiral had reluctantly agreed to try to salvage the vessel, assuming that the Cylons didn't suddenly make an appearance and make the matter moot.
Keying his intercom, "Athena, you ready to snag that thing?" Lee asked the arriving Raptor's pilot.
"Affirmative, Apollo. Just give me a minute here to align up and I'll have this can tagged," a pause, then, "You really sure we want to bring this home?" she asked, her tone hedged with doubt. "You know what they say about a can of worms, Sir."
"Haven't you ever been fishing?" he said, then grimaced as he realized that as a Cylon, she probably hadn't.
"No, Sir, I prefer seeing my dinner on a platter not a hook," she quickly responded and his discomfort passed.
"Well, here's your chance," he said. "Hook that thing and let's head back before bigger fish surface."
He watched as Athena maneuvered the shuttle into position and shot the grappling harpoon into place. Usually she would have used the maglock clamp instead, but it took time to attach and he'd ordered the Lieutenant to get the job done fast and dirty. Thus they were thrusting back towards Galactica's bulk in less than ten minutes and Lee had to decide whether to follow their prize in or maintain watch with the rest of the fighter screen.
"Galactica, Apollo. Say status on FTL," he requested of CIC.
His father's graveled voice responded. "Five, say again, five, Apollo." Then, "Turn our birds for home in four. That'll give time for the civies to clear out before we retrieve you. Actual out." Lee nodded, deciding that his place was beside his pilots until the recall was given.
Though, his pilots wasn't exactly accurate anymore, he thought to himself, still galled by what had gone down between his father and himself over the choices he'd made while assisting in Baltar's defense. Recalling the bitter words they'd exchanged, Lee's hang tightened on the stick and the Viper shifted to starboard. Forcing his grip to loosen, he turned his thoughts from his dad and back to the mystery of the Heavy and what secrets it might hold.
When the All Return command came, he was surprised to realize that he'd been lost in thought for so many minutes. Toggling the comm, "Ok, that's it. Get them on deck people," he ordered and swept his gaze over the miniature Dradis, assuring himself that all the birds were safely inbound. Kicking his own fighter's thruster to full, he burned a path for home, the sense that something awaited him growing with each passing moment.
A short time later he popped the canopy, passing off his helmet to one of the deck crew as he clambered from the Viper and quickly descended the steps. He didn't bother asking where the Cylon shuttle had been towed, knowing that the Admiral would have kept it as distant from the other crafts as possible. Striding towards the furthest corner of the bay, the ring of black-clad Marines confirmed his goal. A glance upwards showed that the Admiral and Tigh were already observing from the catwalk.
He heard her voice before he saw her.
"Godsdamnit! What do I have to do to prove it?" she was yelling up at the two men above.
Lee shouldered his way between a pair of Marines and gaped at the sight of Kara Thrace standing a the base of the Heavy Raider's ramp with her hands on hips as she glared up at his father.
"Lee, wait!"
His father's shout barely registered as Lee flung himself across the intervening distance and clasped the startled figure in a crushing hug.
Gods! She was real. She was alive and here and returning his hug with a strength that nearly matched his own. As he tried to choke out her name into her hair, he felt the loosening of her grip and eased back enough to see her face.
She looked like hell—and the best thing he'd ever seen.
"Good to see you too, Sir," she murmured, tone sounding as complexly congested as his.
"Frak, Kara, wh—"
"Everyone step away!"
The Admiral's bellowed command cut him off and Lee looked up but didn't shift from his position. Even from here, his father's scowl was ominous, but nothing short of force was going to make Lee let go of Kara now. But then he felt her stiffen in his arms and slip her palms to push against his chest. Reluctantly releasing his hold, he searched her expression and was alternately reassured and alarmed by what he saw.
A soul-deep fatigue was evident in the way she stood, knees locked as if unsure of their support, and a foreboding apprehension tightened the corners of her eyes and mouth, but it was the resolve in the green of her eyes that held everything else at bay. Lee recognized that look. Few things in the universe would dare argue with Kara Thrace when she looked like that. It was the something that he hadn't realized had been missing since her return from New Caprica. And it gave him the fortitude to step back and let her handle the Admiral herself.
"Sir, I'll brief you on everything as soon as I can," she called up to Adama, then flicked a glance to the ramp, "but there are some other folks inside I need you to see first." She waited until she saw the Admiral nod, then ordered over her shoulder, "Come out slowly, hands up."
Lee's eyes widened as a white-clad female form hesitantly moved along the ramp with another woman in slacks and shirt following at her heels. His gaze shot to where Saul stood above, expression stunned as his wife came to a halt beside Kara.
Movement in his peripheral drew Lee's gaze back around as another figure in white descended and Samuel Anders moved to stand just an arms length behind Kara.
Total silence ruled the bay as people stared in shock at the four.
"Put them all in with the other one."
The Admiral's harsh voice broke Lee's paralysis and he moved to step between Kara and his father's line of sight. He glared challenging across the divide but was met with the uncompromising expression he recognized from too many confrontations between them in the past.
Changing his tack, "Starbuck should see Cottle," he stated, and even from here saw his father's lips thin before he gave a stiff nod.
"Alright," with a jabbed finger at two Marines, "escort her to sickbay. The rest to the Cylon holding cell," Adama ordered of the remaining squad. Then directed at Lee, "I want you in my quarters in ten," he snapped and Lee guessed that his dad had read the determination to go with Kara in his own expression and had decided to avoid a public showdown between them.
Lee gave a reluctant nod and watched as the Admiral turned to his XO where the man seemed glued to the railing and said something too low to carry. Whatever the words, Tigh jerked straight, tearing his gaze from the group below and moved to follow as his superior left the bay.
Lee felt the circle of Marines close on their small group and he returned his attention to the figure at his side and asked, "Think you still know the way to sickbay, Starbuck?" one eyebrow quirking up to be rewarded by an answering smirk.
"I think I can manage."
She slipped ahead of Lee to take the lead.
"Don't lose me this time,Apollo," she said.
He replied, "Oh, not a chance."