Chapter 26B / 104 Prodigal's Return
Entering sickbay close on Kara's heels, Lee barely noted the startled looks from the staff. He had noticed how her jaunty pace had slowed the farther they got from the flight deck as if the impetus that had been driving her forward was losing its strength with each stride. By the time they stepped across the threshold into the infirmary, it was all he could do not to reach for Kara's elbow to steady her.
Instead, "Get Cottle," he snapped out at the nearest attendant and came to a stop beside where Kara had halted. Her gaze met his and he was reassured by what he saw in her eyes. She might be exhausted but hadn't lost that indefinable spark again.
"Chill out, Lee. I'm fine," she said. He opened his mouth to respond, but broke off as a gruff voice behind him spoke.
"When are you ever, Captain?" Cottle bemusedly scoffed, then twitched his head to the nearest cubicle. "Let's seen what mess you've made of yourself this time."
Lee was surprised to see Kara's expression harden as she faced the doctor and he wondered why she was giving the man the look she usually reserved for someone she was about to introduce to the decking. As a possible explanation abruptly came to mind, he swallowed. In the euphoria over her survival, Lee had forgotten about the events leading up her disappearance in the first place.
Her next words seemed to confirm his suspicion.
"Had help this time, didn't I, Doc," she said, voice sharp with the accusation.
"Perhaps," Cottle brusquely said, not bothering to deny what she was inferring, then lifted a bushy eyebrow as if daring her to make something of it. As Lee saw Kara's fists clench at her side, he was afraid that she might actually take a swing at the senior physician.
Placing a palm on her shoulder, "Hey, ease up, Kara. He was just following orders," he put in, trying to blunt her spike of anger.
"Get off me, Adama," she bit out, shrugging his hand from its place yet maintaining her locked gaze with the doctor.
Lee was shocked by how quickly her mood had shifted and he attempted to catch her eyes as he tried to explain, "There weren't enough Raptor-qualified pilots. It was necessary—"
"Necessary? Necessary to lie to us…to me?" Now her gaze did swing to his and Lee wilted under the condemnation he read in their green depths. "We might not have had a choice, but we sure as frak deserved to know what that much radiation was gonna do to us!" Swiveling back to the older man, "I thought I could trust you enough not to cover for them!" she ground out, not needing to explain whom she meant.
"Why?" Cottle's blunt response seemed to disconcert Kara and she rocked back on her heels before her expression turned grim.
"Riiiight. Do as you're told. Keep your mouth shut." The betrayal in her eyes made Lee ache as she bitterly added, "Just like every other frakkin' doctor I've ever known."
This time her words must have hit their mark, for the physician looked away even as he wearily ordered, "Just get on the table, Thrace."
"Yes, Sir," she retorted before moving towards the indicated alcove.
"Kara—"
As he was interrupted by the black-clad Marine that stepped between them, Lee wasn't even sure what he'd been about to say. All he knew was that their moment of rapport had been shattered and her instant withdrawal didn't bode well for any attempt on his part to explain why he'd held back the information in the first place.
Frustration tightened his jaw as he started to step around the Marine only to be blocked as the woman shifted into his path again.
"Sir, the Admiral's waiting for you," she neutrally said, holding her position despite his narrow-eyed glare.
"Yeah, well he doesn't give me orders any more," he said, side-stepping but only to find himself blocked again.
Lee considered the advisability of pushing past the Sergeant and ignoring his father's summons, but huffed a breath as he realized that Cottle didn't need him supervising this exam…and Kara obviously wasn't in the mood for his company at the moment either. Grinding his teeth, he reluctantly came to the conclusion that his time was probably better spent running interference between Kara and the Admiral. His father's distrust had been evident even from the catwalk, and if he—or the President—decided that Kara was a Cylon agent, then she might be facing more than a simple charge of going AWOL.
Even as the thought came to him, Lee tried to shrug it aside. There was no way his dad would do that. Not to Kara. But the barest amount of doubt lingered and he swore that whatever happened he'd do a better job of protecting her. He purposefully ignored the inner voice that tried to protest that it was his attempt to do just that before that had now earned her distrust. Instead, he glanced down at the woman's name badge and curtly said, "Fine, Sergeant Mathias, but I expect you to defend as well as guard her."
"Planned to, Sir," the Marine's resolute reply eased some of the tension in his chest as Lee resignedly turned away.
As he covered the distance between sickbay and the Admiral's quarters, Lee's emotions cycled through elation at Kara's survival, worry at what the Cylons might have put her through this go-around, frustration at having to leave her side and a growing anger at his father's cold reception.
A part of Lee understood that the Admiral had to keep the welfare of the Fleet foremost, but this was Kara! They'd thought they'd lost her for good only to be given yet another chance, and what does his dad do? Treats her like the enemy.
Reminded of the others that had returned with her, Lee's thoughts flinched from the ramifications of Sam Ander's presence. That he was a Cylon, one of the remaining five unknown models, was a foregone conclusion. But what his return—with Kara—meant left Lee apprehensive over how she still felt about her husband. Not that Anders was really her husband, he was a skinjob for-fraks-sake. Yet, as the image of Athena holding Hera and smiling up at Helo came to mind, Lee had to reluctantly admit that Anders being a Cylon wasn't the crux of the issue.
No. What really matter was whether Kara still loved the guy.
The marriage tattoo on Ander's arm might be gone, but that didn't mean that Kara's feelings had changed. Sure, she now knew that he was a Cylon, and since he had 'died' she'd been released from their marriage vows, but none of that meant that Kara was going to leave Sam. The fact that he was a skinjob and had lied about it should be reason enough for her to jettison him, but Lee knew how contrary she could be. That lesson had been painfully learned one brisk morning on New Caprica.
He rubbed a hand over his jaw, trying to wipe away the jealous pain thoughts of Kara's marriage splashed across his soul. Hadn't she already told him how much she had loved Sam, and so now that he was back, which way would she jump?
Nodding a greeting to the Marine guarding his father's cabin, Lee pulled his disjointed thoughts back to the task at hand as the man knocked to announce his arrival. He heard the muffled command to enter and swung the hatch open only to pause, nonplused at the sight of the three people within. He bleakly realized that the presence of the President and XO shouldn't have surprised him, but somehow Lee had thought that he'd be facing just his father. Chiding himself for believing that they might share a private moment to deal with Kara's return, he stepped across the threshold, moving to the bar to pour himself a drink without waiting for an offer.
A deep voice broke the silence as he turned.
"How is she?" The question seemed to have slipped unwillingly from his father's lips and Lee saw them thin as if to prevent any more betraying ones from escaping.
"What is she is really what we need to know," Roslin firmly interjected from her chair and Lee's eyes narrowed, not liking the cold calculation he saw in her expression.
"You can't believe Kara's a Cylon?"
"It has to be considered," she replied to Lee, but her words were obviously meant for the senior Adama as she shifted her gaze to where his father stood, arms crossed, balefully glaring at the couch.
Not caring that he was addressing the President, Lee snapped back, "There's nothing to consider. There's no way that she's a frakkin' skinjob!"
This was Kara. There was no way in hell he was going to let Roslin threaten to airlock her.
"Watch your mouth!" Tigh growled from his position across the room, hands clasped on the back of one of the empty chairs as if needing its support.
Lee's grip on the tumbler tightened as he shot the XO a hard look, then he took a breath, reminding himself that the man was obviously still reeling from finding out that not only was his wife alive, but a Cylon too. Still, it took a force of will to hold back a biting retort. Instead, he returned his attention to the only two people that really mattered.
"Dad, she's alive. It's Kara and she's alive," he said, voice low and yet fierce as he sought to draw his father's eyes.
"We don't know that, Major."
He ignored Roslin's misuse of his rank and took a step towards his father, wanting to demand that he look at him, agree with him.
Damn it, what's your problem here?
Yet, even as Lee mental berated him, he noticed the tense set of the Admiral's shoulders and grasped his dad's internal conflict as he sought to reconcile what he wanted to believe with what he dared to risk. When the figure in dress blues flexed fingers knobbed from age and finally turned, Lee searched the hazed eyes and was abruptly reminded that his father had been about to retire before the worlds had crashed down around them. There was a constant weariness now that made the nickname Old Man seem too painfully spot-on and it caused an ache in Lee's chest that had nothing to do with Kara.
Grieved by the evidence of his dad's mortality, Lee looked away only to have his gaze intercepted by Laura's knowing eyes. His jaw clenched as he faced yet another source of his father's deterioration. Impending grief hung about the elder Adama now like a dark aura and Lee was well aware that it was because of the return of Laura's cancer.
Despite his own self-involvement, Lee had finally realized the depth of the bond that had formed between the President and the Admiral. He had been one of the few people present during their reunion after the exodus from New Caprica and it had come as a shock when he had glimpsed the emotions hidden behind their public masks. Since then he'd been more cognizant of all the little exchanges between them.
And now Laura was dying—again.
In some ways he supposed it explained the shift he'd noticed in her. Time was once more counting down her remaining days and it didn't take a psych degree to understand how that leant itself to a ruthlessness escalation of her already well established pragmatism. But, regardless of why she was pushing for excessive caution where Kara was concerned or why his father seemed afraid to trust in the miracle of her return, Lee wasn't about to let either compromise her now. Not after she'd survived so much. Not after he'd been given another chance to make things right.
Lifting his tumbler, he swallowed its contents in one go, grimacing at the burn before setting the empty glass aside.
"It's Kara. Cottle'll prove it," he said. Then added, "His assistant said they'd probably have the results of their tests in about an hour."
"And the..." Tigh hesitated, then continued, "the others?"
Lee frowned at the reminder that Samuel Anders had once more been added to the chaos that defined his and Kara's relationship.
"Obviously we now know two of the remaining five models," Roslin neutrally replied with a glance at Saul's tense form. "They'll need to be questioned," she added and Lee saw that she kept her gaze leveled on the Admiral now, ignoring how Tigh might react to her statement. As far as Lee could tell, the man seemed to have put a lock on himself after his initial outburst.
His attention shifted back to Roslin as she continued, "Perhaps they can identify the remaining three. It'll be a relief knowing whom we can trust."
This time the XO did react and Lee saw the man jerk. He was undoubtedly afraid of what interrogation tactics the President might advocate in pursuit of that information. On that front he and Lee were in agreement—there was no way he was going to allow anyone to lay a hand on Kara. If Madame President thought otherwise she was about to discover what it meant to make an enemy of both Tigh and himself.
Afterall, he'd mutinied once, he thought, realizing that a coup wasn't beyond his boundaries anymore. Not if the President threatened Kara and the Admiral backed her.
His father seemed to gather himself and when he spoke, his voice was flatly neutral. "We'll have answers." As his gaze strayed back to the empty couch, "They came looking for us," he reminded them.
"What about the dead one?" Saul's voice rasped out.
What?
Lee blinked in confusion, eyes moving from one figure to another before settling on the Admiral as he shrugged.
"I imagine that Kara killed him," Laura said with only a slight pause over Kara's name.
"Killed who?" he asked when Roslin didn't add anything further. He saw her eyebrows lift slightly and then she gave a tiny nod.
"Of course, you wouldn't know." He frowned as she paused, but held his tongue as she gave another more decisive nod. "The guards found a body on the Raider. A Two model. I suspect…" her eyes dropped as she faltered before continuing, "I believe that it's Leoben. The same Two that held Kara on New Caprica," she finished in a rush, the first sign that she was more than coldly composed over the reveal of the Heavy's occupants.
Lee stiffened even as his mind raced over the implications of this news. In the elation at seeing Kara alive and then their argument in sickbay, he hadn't really had time to process what her presence with the skinjobs might mean. Sure, he'd been worried that they might have harmed her and concerned about the Admiral's and President's response to her return, but he had been resolutely avoiding thoughts of what she might have experienced at the Cylons' hands again.
Leoben's presence on the Raider brought that fear into clear focus now as he remembered Kara's telling him in bits and pieces of the mind-frak the Two had done to her. And the fact that Leoben hadn't limited himself to mentally tormenting her ate at Lee's self-control. Wishing suddenly that the Cylon wasn't already dead, that he was in Galactica's holding cell, Lee was abruptly certain that no POW regulations would've stopped him from castrating the bastard with his bare hands.
Shaking his head to lift some of the red from his vision, Lee took a shaky breath and realized that Laura and his dad were staring at him with matching concern on their faces.
"What happened to the bast—" catching himself, "—to it?' he asked.
Looking to the side as Tigh answered, "Bullet through the brain," Lee lifted an eyebrow and the XO obliged with more detail. "Marines reported that they found the body in the main compartment. Someone had plugged him twice. Once in the leg and then the head. Body's still warm."
Lee mulled over explanations for the envisioned scene and could only grimly hope that the frakker had suffered before he'd been finished off. Forcing his hands to unclench, he tried to wipe them down the slick sides of his flightsuit, only just now remembering that he hadn't had a chance to change yet. He wondered if he had time before Cottle reported with his findings. A scrutinizing glance at the tense figures around Lee decided him not to leave now, not trusting what they might discuss behind his back.
A silence filled the cabin as the group waited, each seemingly lost in their own brooding thoughts. How much time passed before a knock on the hatch jerked his head up, Lee couldn't guess, but he straightened as the white-coated figure of the physician entered.
Waiting only until the hatch had closed behind him, Cottle briskly said, "It's Thrace."
"You can be certain?" from Roslin, her tone level but insistent.
Cottle moved his free hand towards his pocket before aborting the motion and Lee vaguely wondered if the man had finally exhausted his stash of cigarettes. He studied the age-etched face as the doctor lifted a set of flimsies instead and faced the President with a jaundiced expression and huffed out a sigh.
"Her x-rays."
"Surely those aren't conclusive?" challenged Roslin and Lee wanted to demand that she stop being so obstinate in her suspicions but held his words in check as Cottle continued.
"I've seen what the Cylons can do and I'm telling you that there's just no way they could've copied that young woman's every fracture. Not to this level of perfection." He gave the films a rattle for emphasis. "They're an exact match. Now, I might just be an old Colonial surgeon, but I can tell if a break's recent or not. And I'm telling you that most of these are at least a decade old. So, if you're still thinking that Thrace might be a Cylon, she would've had to have been born one," he said with a confidence that defied them to contradict his assessment.
Looking from Roslin to his father, Lee saw the palpable tension ease from both of their faces, and felt his own drop a notch at their acceptance of the doctor's findings.
"How is she?" His father repeated his same question from earlier, now directed at the physician.
"Exhausted, but mostly intact. Blood's from the cut above her eye and some scraped knuckles—I'd say most of it's not even hers. Probably from whatever skinjob she walloped the hell out of," Cottle informed them, then bluntly added, "No signs of new abuse," in response to their unspoken fear.
"And her mental state?" asked Roslin.
"I imagine as demented as ever. You weren't expecting the Cylons to have some sort of 'let's-all-hug-it-out' thing with her, were you?" Cottle's surly reply couldn't completely hide the underlying concern in his voice.
"Doctor," the warning in her tone drew another exasperated huff from the older man. Again he made as if to fish something from his pocket before dropping his hand to his side and giving her a sour look.
"Look. She's royally pissed at me and I couldn't get more than monosyllables from her. Satisfied?" he gruffly replied.
As the woman leaned back, obviously caught off guard by the doctor's belligerent manner, Lee was reminded that the President hadn't been included in the Admiral's decision to risk Galactica's pilots. She didn't know how put out Cottle had been about his part in the deception. The Admiral had purposefully kept Roslin in the dark, stating that it was an internal military matter. In fact, he had even said that he'd only brought Lee into the loop because he'd needed the CAG's opinion on whether to inform their people of the likely effects of so much radiation. Lee had secretly thought it was because his dad couldn't stomach not telling him that his orders were going to subject him to a damaging level of exposure.
He recalled the heated argument that had followed when his father had decided against taking his recommendation to lay out the facts for the pilots. Lee had believed the Admiral's threat of a court martial if he chose to tell the others, and his lips thinned as he remembered having to lie to Kara even as he sought to protect her. After their third jump it had been a relief to have a legitimate excuse to ground her—though that hadn't lasted once Showboat went down. He had so wanted to tell her the truth, the need making him abrupt in his last encounter with her.
The President's voice drew him from the galling memory.
"Now why would Kara be upset at you, Doctor?"
Too late, Cottle realized his mistake and gave a harassed glare at his commanding officer.
On a sigh, "That's my fault," Adama confessed and met Laura's confused gaze before firming his expression and continuing, "He had orders to keep certain information from Captain Thrace that I'm assuming she now knows?" His enquiring look received a nod from Cottle.
As the silence stretched, Laura finally said, "Am I going to have to guess?" her tone already acerbic and promising more displeasure if someone didn't fill her in—promptly.
Adama jerked his chin towards the elderly physician in an unvoiced order to answer her before he then moved to the bar and filled a glass of his own. As Lee put some distance between himself and the Admiral, he saw his dad's eyes note his action and saw his grim understanding that Lee was making it clear whose responsibility it was for the forthcoming revelation.
"Galactica's Raptor pilots received a more harmful dose of radiation than they were told to expect," Cottle flatly stated. As Roslin still looked uncertain, he reluctantly explained further, "Mr. Gaeta and I had calculated the amount of exposure they were likely to get each time through the storm. Based on those figures, the maximum number of safe jumps per person to avoid permanent damage should have been limited to four."
Now Lee saw understanding set into the woman's features and she paled. Wetting her lips, "It took five trips," she said, her tone ordering that he continue.
"With the number of civilian vessels to guide, five was the minimum we could manage with available personnel," Cottle confirmed.
Roslin studied the physician then her rebuking gaze shifted to the Admiral where he stood with his back to her pouring himself a second drink.
"And the physical consequence of this…exposure?" she asked of the doctor without taking her eyes from the dress blues-clad form. In her dark eyes, Lee saw her demand for the Admiral to turn and face her. His father either hadn't gotten the unspoken message or chose to ignore it, instead, holding his place with one hand splayed on the bar's smooth surface and the other cradling the already half-drained tumbler.
"Sterility."
Cottle's curt answer, spoken with the sullenness of someone having to unwillingly impart bad news jerked Laura's head around. Her eyes widened as she processed his meaning.
Lee knew the moment when all the ramifications finally registered, for her bleak expression was now focused on him. He met her look with a steady one of his own. She might be concerned about his health, but he had accepted the necessity even before the first jump. What stuck in his throat was the Admiral's decision to withhold that same knowledge from the rest of the crew. Lee was pretty damned sure that was what had Kara so angry, too. Not that she had been ordered to put herself at risk—they did that daily—but that those she trusted had hid the facts from her. And he guessed that learning the truth from the Cylons had only intensified her sense of betrayal.
"All of them?"
Roslin's softly spoken question drew a sharp nod from Lee. But then rethinking his answer, "Showboat—Captain Case—only completed four. There was a malfunction with her Raptor."
"Wait. Starbuck only went out four times," Tigh spoke up for the first time since his earlier outburst.
As this pulled Adama around, Lee shook his head, reminding his dad that Kara might not have made five jumps, but that didn't mean she hadn't received a dose high enough to cause damage.
"Kat," he said outloud by way of explanation and saw understanding cross Saul and his father's faces as they recalled the younger pilot overstaying in the storm and maxing out her badge before the fifth jump. It was a pretty certain thing that Kara had also taken an excessive amount. In fact, Lee abruptly realized that he had no idea exactly how much radiation she had been exposed to.
His widening eyes shot to the doctor.
"Do we even know how much?" he demanded and knew Cottle understood his concern.
"Thrace said her badge was black, not red. Got that much out of her," Cottle said and some of the tightness in Lee's chest eased. Black was bad enough, but they all knew there wouldn't have been any coming back if it had begun to turn red, something that Kara's presence should have answered for them if they had really thought it through.
"I'm afraid, gentlemen, that you've lost me." Roslin's words drew four sets of eyes her way as she continued. "I thought the purpose of the badges was to warn when the safe limit had been reached?"
"I set the badge perimeters," Cottle explained.
"And those perimeters were?"
"Less than a fatal dose," his clipped reply was further marked by the scowl he cast her way indicating that he shouldn't have to explain the difference between safe and survivable.
Lee watched Roslin process the answers and saw her almost imperceptible nod.
"I agree that it was imperative to get the civilians through the storm…and that that might come at the expense of Fleet personnel, but surely Kara understands this too?" Her tone perplexed as she looked from man to man before coming back to Lee and asking, "Major?"
Lee crossed his arms, side-eying his father. Go ahead, it was your order. You explain it! His silence communicated his thoughts as clearly as a shout to his father who wearily placed his almost empty tumbler behind him before straightening his glasses.
"They weren't told," he said.
"Weren't told?" Now Laura rose to her feet as her gaze swiveled to Adama's.
"We—I—gave the order to keep the consequences from the pilots," he reluctantly admitted. Then added in a gruffer tone, "It wasn't necessary for them to know."
"Necessary!" Lee couldn't stop his derisive bark as their prior argument and Kara's anger fed his own.
"This is the military," the Admiral snapped back, "They didn't need to know."
Lee opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by Roslin as she spoke. "Perhaps," her icicle-spiked tone struck out, "but they deserved to know," she stated.
"It was a military decision," his sullen reply a reminder for her of how things had gone last time she had interfered in another 'military decision' and obviously he'd meant it to end the discussion.
Lee's gaze moved between the pair and as he watched the way the President purposefully crossed her arms and leveled a look on the Admiral that could've bent steel, he realized that Roslin was more than a match for his father.
The cabin was held in a silence strung taut by the way their eyes clashed as Lee waited to see who broke first. He wasn't particularly surprised when it was blue eyes that looked away and felt a certain smug satisfaction that his father had been the one to back down.
Roslin didn't shift her attention from Adama as she asked, "I'm assuming that the Cylons informed Kara and that she's made her displeasure known?"
Cottle grunted. "You could say that," he dryly replied.
Finally turning her head to regard the doctor, "I have some other concerns about her stability," Roslin said. Lee's brows rose slightly as he eyed the woman as she continued." It strikes me as particularly improbably that the Cylons have captured Kara Thrace on three separate occasions and yet she has somehow managed to survive each encounter."
What the hell?
Cottle responded before Lee could form a confused protest.
"She has had the gods' own luck that way, I'll give you that," the elderly physician said.
"Unless it's been the Cylons' plan all along."
She was joking, right? Where the frak did this come from?
Lee found himself speechless, unable to formulate a coherent response when he couldn't wrap his mind around what Roslin was implying even as she went on.
"We can't overlook the possibility that they've been attempting to condition her during each of these periods."
That was enough to break the four of them from their collectively stunned paralysis.
"You can't really believe—"
"No frakkin' way."
"That's not possible."
"Unlikely. Not with Thrace—"
"Gentlemen!" Roslin held her hands up to halt the barrage, then swept them with a discerning look. "I'm concerned about Kara, too." Waving them to silence as they were about to protest, "I am. But we have to consider all possibilities. I worked with her after New Caprica, so I've a better sense of how thoroughly the Cylons were able to twist her thinking then." Slowly releasing a deep breath, she added, "Given that they've had her for weeks now, I'm only saying that we need to carefully evaluate any information she gives us."
Lee gritted his teeth to keep hot words from spilling forth. Did the woman really think that Kara had been compromised? Kara?Seriously, it had to be the chamella making her paranoid or something, he decided. Whatever Kara had been through, whatever the frakkers had done to her this time, there was no way that he was going to believe for one minute that they had somehow brainwashed her. His expression turned mulish as he glared across the room at the President.
Cottle broke the tense standoff.
"Anything more you need?" he asked, addressing the Admiral.
"Where's she now?"
"Cleaning up. Told her to shower and then report here," Cottle answered, hand fidgeting up again, only this time he stuffed it into the pocket of his overcoat and kept it there. "Figured that give me time to fill you in before debriefing her yourself," he finished.
Adama nodded a dismissal at the doctor's question and the man left the room with more than his customary speed. Watching the hatch close behind him, Lee frowned, still reeling from the swift currents of the discussion and uncertain how to protect Kara from the President's suspicion and his father's poor judgment.
Before he had time to formulate a response a knock heralded another arrival and his eyes swept the form that stepped across the threshold.
She looked better.
She wore a clean set of BDUs. Wet hair, combed straight, came to just above her shoulders. The cut at her brow had obviously been treated, but Lee thought that it might scar, and while her eyes looked brighter—and steadier—he couldn't help but notice how dark the shadows were beneath them.
She looked better, but far from well.
It took all of Lee's resolve to keep from charging across the room to sweep her into another fervent hug. Only the thought that this time she'd probably greet him with a right hook kept him still. Instead, his hungry gaze followed her as she strode up to the Admiral and gave him a too-sharp salute.
Oh yeah, she might appear calmer, but Lee recognized the way she held herself. This was more like the center of a hurricane and he knew that they were probably about to face the gale winds of Starbuck's temper.
Not sparing a glance at the others in the room, "Sir," she said, tone honed to a fine edge.
Yup, pissed and just waiting for the Admiral to offer her an excuse to explode.
When Adama abruptly stepped forward and enveloped her in a bear hug, Lee's brows rose, wondering just how Kara would react to the very non-regulation greeting. He could see her upper face over his father's shoulder and saw green eyes widen first then blink several times. Initially her free arm stayed stiffly at her side but then crept around the figure holding her as her other hand dropped to the blue-clad shoulder. She returned the clasp for a moment before moving to break the embrace. Adama let her, shifting back to put a half-pace of space between them.
"You've got to stop chasing cats," his father's voice rasped with too many emotions dredging its depth.
"Yeah, well…you know me," she gave a shrug as if unsure suddenly how to proceed, obviously not having been prepared for the Old Man's blatant show of affection.
"I do," gripping her arms at the elbows, "and I should've known to tell you the truth," he admitted, adding, "All of you," in a clear indication that he'd accepted that he'd made a mistake.
"Frakkin' right," she bit out, then shrugged again. Lee could tell that the Old Man's actions had effectively taken the wind out of Kara's anger, leaving her at a loss how to handle their reunion.
"Captain Thrace—Kara." She turned her head as Laura called her. "It's good to have you back. We need to know what happened."
Lee saw Kara take stock of the room's other occupants, her eyes barely meeting his before flitting on and he tensed further. What? She was going to forgive his dad just like that, but not him?
"Yes, Madam President," her gaze moving back to Roslin's. "There's a lot to tell, but…" she trailed off as green eyes again canvassed the cabin. Then she brought her shoulders back as if preparing to take a weight and said, "But only you and the Admiral."
Lee blinked.
He must have heard wrong. Yet he saw the same perplexed expression from the others and took a step forward as he said, "Kara," protesting the implication that she didn't trust him.
"Just you two," she repeated, gaze shifting between the leaders.
"What's this?" Tigh demanded. "What game you playing, Thrace?"
She ignored him too, focused on the Admiral as he scrutinized her face for some explanation. Roslin's eyes had narrowed slightly and Lee saw the renewed suspicion in their depths.
"The Colonel has a valid question, Captain," Roslin said. Then tilted her head and asked, "Why the sudden need for secrecy? And from these two no less," sweeping a hand to indicate Lee and the XO.
Lee's confusion grew as Kara answered, "What I know's for your ears only," and gave the Admiral an determined look as she added, "What you tell others, well, that's your call, Sir."
"You'll godsdamn tell what you know!" Tigh all but roared, hand slapping down on the table he at his side. Then, as all eyes turned to him, he demanded of her, "How the hell you end up on a Heavy with my wife!" face flushed with thinly restrained turmoil.
But Kara's attention was only for the Admiral, and Lee could see a need she so rarely let show transform her features into a pleading look matched by her tone as she implored, "Sir…please."
He saw his father's resistance crumble beneath the coercion of her plea.
"Clear the room." His rumbled order brought an immediate response.
"Do you think that's wis—"
"Kara, I don't know—"
"No! NO! I have to—"
Their protests were abruptly silenced by Adama's loud, "Now!" but it still took another moment before Lee could pull his confused thoughts together enough to compel his body to turn and leave. At his side, the XO looked even more overwhelmed and rebellious, and Lee decided he'd better keep an eye on the man even though he didn't have any authority to override him if the Colonel went ballistic on the first unsuspecting crewman they encountered.
Lee heard the hatch close behind him and trailed Tigh as the Colonel took the corridor with the most direct route towards the brig.
[ ]
As Kara entered the Admiral's quarters and gave her commanding officer a parade-ground perfect salute, her stomach twisted on a spasm of betrayal. He'd lied to her—again. There had even been time before the last jump when they'd stood alone together in the wardroom when he could have explained to her. He hadn't. And as that moment replayed through her mind, Kara finally understood the emotions she'd sensed in him. But the memory of his concern and guilt was overridden by his decision to leave her in the dark. It was her body, her life, and the Admiral had broken an unspoken rule by not telling her—telling all of them—of the effects they'd face from the radiation. Why hadn't he trusted his people with the truth? Where had she failed him? Had he actually thought she might refuse if she'd known the consequences of their repeated trips through the storm?
Her "Sir," as pointedly sharp as the salute, as she dared the Admiral to make excuses for his deceit. But she was caught off guard as Old Man pulled her into an encompassing embrace. Of its own accord, her arm lifted and wrapped around him, gripping him as tightly and she rested her chin against the rough material of his uniform jacket. Her eyes stung as she gulped a breath and finally shifting away, finding that her razor-edged anger had inexplicably dulled. She wasn't aware of how alike it felt to the few times her mother had hugged her tight with assurances of love and explanations that her actions were for Kara's own good. All Kara knew was that in that instant how much she had needed this proof that the he still cared.
As he made an unsteady jest about chasing cats, she wavered, wanting to still be pissed but found herself mumbling something vague in response. So when he apologized, she replied, "Frakkin' right," but couldn't dredge up the heat of her prior outrage.
Shifting her feet, uncomfortable with the way her carefully planned confrontation had been muddled, Kara sought to pull her scattered thoughts back into focus. She thankfully turned to Laura as the woman spoke, reminding Kara that she had more important things to deal with than hurt feelings; the foremost being the identity of the three remaining Cylons. Leoben's insistence that they weren't infiltrators—an assertion backed by Sam—hadn't reassured her one cubit and she was anxious to warn Adama and Roslin of the traitors in their midst. But that was going to be dicey with Tigh regarding her like it was she that had grown a metal head.
Kara was careful to mask her scrutiny of the XO by making a show of sweeping the entire room's complement, noting Lee's stiffening at her curt glance. Whatever. Let him believe that she was still holding his part in the Admiral's deception against him. It was more important not to tip Tigh off to her knowledge of his true nature than to smooth Apollo's ruffled ego.
Besides, Kara realized that she was still upset at him.
Her gaze back on the older woman now, Kara answered that she did have a lot to tell, but only to the two leaders. She ignored Lee's protest and kept her eyes forward as she restated that she'd only divulge her story to the two of them.
At the XO's reprimand, she met the Old Man's inquiring look, not turning away even as she restated that what she had to say was for them only. Tigh's outburst behind her didn't even illicit a flinch. Instead, her entire focus was on the man that had taken her into his cabin, had given her reason to believe that she wasn't the malignancy he'd once called her.
Come on! Trust me in this. Please!
"Clear the room," he finally said and she shut her eyes in relief only to snap them open at the protests his order provoked. His unwavering "Now!" salved a fear she hadn't realized existed, only now acknowledging that she'd secretly feared that he'd deny her request.
As she heard the hatch close behind her, Kara released the breath she'd held while listening to Lee and Tigh stamp out. She quickly suppressed a shard of guilt at having to cut Lee out to cover for excluding the XO.
Now that she faced only the President and the Admiral she abruptly found herself tongued-tied, unsure where to begin. The older woman's closed expression didn't help. Kara hadn't been prepared for the undercurrent of suspicion she'd heard in Laura's voice and was at a loss to explain it. Surely Cottle had told them that she wasn't a Cylon? It had seemed that the Doc had taken enough blood and x-rays to start a private collection. But then again, she'd still been furious at the physician and had ignored all but his most basic questions. At the time she had figured the drawn out tests was his way of punishing her for her intransigence, but now she had to wonder.
Had the Doc seriously thought I was a skinjob?
Well, she didn't frakking care about Cottle's opinion. Not anymore. She'd been a fool to actually believe in his blunt honesty. The reminder of why she shouldn't trust doctors had been proven once again and she hadn't been in the mood to pretend otherwise. It never even occurred to her to question why she was so quick to forgive the one that had given the command but held close her fury at the surgeon for just following orders. Instead, her thoughts narrowed on Laura's distrust.
Deciding that the best way to answer the other woman's concerns was to lay it all, Kara said, "I know who the final five Cylons are," then faltered as she realized that she hadn't even asked about Sam. For all she knew, the President might already have airlocked the Heavy Raider's other occupants. Giving a small shake of her head, Kara rejected that possibility. Roslin might be adamant in her feelings towards the humanoid models, but she'd never act that precipitously. Not without gathering all the intel she could get first. Beside, the Colonel would've had a conniption fit if she had tried to show Ellen a quick exit.
Still, the moment of doubt, and fear for Sam, had unsettled her and Kara didn't immediately continue, her gaze instead flitting between the pair, hoping to get a read on their reactions.
Laura's hands rose to her hips as she spoke first. "Samuel Anders and Ellen Tigh are two of those." Though it wasn't phrased as a question, Kara nodded anyways then licked her lips, trying to moisten a suddenly dry mouth.
"And?" the President prompted.
Here goes nothing.
"Galen Tyrol, Tory Foster and…and Saul Tigh," she forced out, eyes on the Admiral now, waiting for his response.
Both figures twitched as if she'd spat at them. Seeing the immediate disbelief in his expression, Kara hurried to explain.
"You can ask Sam and Ellen. They'll confirm it." Then she harshly added, "Hell, even check with that bitch, D'Anna." At their condemning silence, "Look, I know this is frakked. I mean, it's the Colonel. And the Chief. I don't know how..." she trailed off with a huff, then tried again, her voice taking on the undertones of pleading again, "You need to question them." As the suit-clad figure took a step back, Kara turned on Laura. "What do you really know about Foster, huh?" she demanded, voice rising as she felt the waves of suspicion roll off from this woman whom she'd trusted with secrets she'd never shared before. As the brown eyes narrowed further, Kara gritted her teeth, purposefully shifting to seek out blue eyes instead.
Oh, frak.
If anything, Adama's countenance was worse. Kara had seen that look of betrayed rage only once before. His order to walk out of this very room while she still could had nearly broken her then; but, this time she was in the right and there was no way she could retract what she'd said…even if she'd wanted to. They had to be warned of the danger. Godsdamnit, they had to believe!
Clenching her hands to hide their trembling, she pressed on against Adama's stony look, "Leoben claims they don't know. Don't know what they are. He said they're not like Boomer. Not sleeper agents—"
"Leoben said?" Roslin interrupted.
Without turning from the Admiral, she nodded then continued. "Sam and Ellen backed his story. They say that after the First Cylon War when the twelve models were created there was some kind of power struggle among them. Cavil," a quick glance at Roslin confirmed she knew of the model, "and the rest of the Ones seized control of the Centurions. They somehow blocked the memories of the other models and wiped those of the five before exiling them to the Colonies." She derisively snorted, finding the machinations of the Ones daft, thinking that if it had been her, she'd have just offed the five rather than going through all that hassle and risking their possible return.
"Captain, what makes you think that you've not just been fed disinformation meant to disrupt the Fleet?"
Kara was thankful for the question, it gave her an excuse to look at the President and not to have to try to hold herself steady beneath the Admiral's crushing glare.
"While I was held, the models broke into two factions," she said. "They're at war, Madam President. This time with each other. I saw the proof. The bodies and wreckage." She shook her head. "I'm telling you that it wasn't faked. I know what I saw," she said forcefully.
"Your wrong," the first words Adama says since her declaration and Kara reluctantly looked back at him while shaking her head.
"I'm not. Couldn't believe it myself at first." Her brows rose as she floundered for a way to explain how denial had given way to a gut-deep certainty.
"I've known Saul Tigh for thirty years now. Watched him age. He's as human as you." He took a step closer and it was all Kara could do not to give ground at the aura of threat emanating from him now as he said, "You're lying."
His accusation struck her still exposed nerve of betrayal and she scornfully shot back, "No. That's what you do."
The blow across her jaw came so fast Kara never saw his hand rise. Her head jolted to the side and she stumbled from the force of the slap, a familiar coppery taste confirming that she'd bit the inside of her lip at the impact.
"Bill!"
She wasn't sure if Laura's authorative shout was all that kept Adama from following up on his initial swing, but his rage that had flared at Kara's taunting words had been sufficiently doused that as she forced her fists to stay at her side, deciding that he wasn't going to strike again—at least not with his hands.
"Kara?"
There was concern in the other woman's voice now, and if the need to convince these two weren't so acute, Kara would have scoffed at her sudden display of solicitude. What had gotten Laura's skirts in a bunch? Every since she'd stepped into the room, Roslin's entire demeanor has been accusatory, like she expected nothing but deceit from Kara. What was her deal and when had the older woman decided that she was the frakking enemy? Laura's distrust had felt like a slow broil compared to Adama's burning cuff.
Well, frak 'em. I don't need this shit!
Facing both now, Kara tongued her torn lip before pasting on a sneer, feeling the pull along her sensitized cheek.
"The truth stings, don't it," she said, swiping the back of her hand across her mouth as she eyed him. "Right. Guess we know how things stand. Should've expected as much," she said bitterly. "Believe what you want, I'm outta here." She spun on her heels and was almost to the hatch when the Admiral's voice boomed out.
"You're not dismissed, Captain!"
She halted, but didn't turn, too disillusioned and angry to trust herself not to make matters worse.
Godsdamnit, it wasn't suppose to go this way!
And to think that after the Old Man's initial greeting she had actually thought he'd hear her out. Ha! Stupid idea and she was screwed again. Not that this wasn't about the retribution she deserved for coming back empty handed. No Earth. No one to verify her story but a few skinjobs.
"Bill, we need to all take a breath." She heard from behind her. In the beat of silence that followed, just wanting to be away from the pair, Kara reached for the door.
"I said you're not dismissed," Adama repeated, tone more firm than sullen this time. And again she paused, her knuckles whitening as her grip on the handle tightened, but she didn't pull the hatch open.
"You can't leave," Laura said neutrally.
Releasing her hold, Kara twisted in place, eyes slashing from one to the other.
"Why? Not like you're gonna believe me." Giving a derisive sniff, "Made that pretty clear."
"Come sit down, Kara." The woman waved towards the couch and Kara had a flash of Laura saying the same thing to her not that many weeks ago. Her eyes narrowed on the indicated piece of furniture and her chest tightened. She automatically shook her head.
"Please. We need to understand how you can be so certain," Laura coaxed now.
Instead of moving to the sofa, she crossed her arms, holding them to her body against the vulnerability she felt before these two that she had stupidly allowed inside her defenses. She side-eyed the Admiral where he stood regarding her from beneath hooded eyes.
She finally said, "They want an alliance," tone surly in anticipation of their response.
"The Cylons?"
"One faction of them. Mostly the Twos, Threes, Sixes and Eights," she reluctantly answered, eyes on the cross-thatch of the deck plating as she continued. "I guess there was a…a disagreement over pursuing us. And the other group also wanted to do something to the Raiders and Centurions." She paused, realizing that she should have questioned Leoben further about the reasons for the riff between the models, but at the time she hadn't exactly been in a chatty mood, the shock of discovering Sam's nature and her focus on retrieving the coordinates to Earth taking precedence over the Cylons' internal dispute.
Frowning, she tried to recall something Natalie had told her…or maybe she'd overheard it? Pinching the bridge of her nose, she tried to force the memory forward, yet found that a creepy fatigue made grasping the elusive thought increasingly difficult. Huffing out a breath in frustration, she pushed it aside for later and looked up to see how the Admiral was taking what she'd disclosed. But, he wasn't even looking at her now, eyes focused on the self-same couch Laura had tried to impel her to moments ago.
What's their frakking obsession with it anyways!
Feeling exhaustion weighting her limbs, Kara found herself suddenly regarding it with a longing to stretch out and just forget about the Cylons and every frakking thing else for maybe about a week…or two. Grimly knowing that wasn't likely to happen, she instead braced herself and confessed her true failure.
"I lost Earth."