Chapter 129 Three of Five

As the Marine hastened to meet Lee at the entrance to sickbay, his anxiety was evident when he started to snap out a salute only to hesitate and then let his hand fall, belatedly recalling the younger Adama's new status. In different circumstances, Lee might have found the man's flustered response amusing, but he had other concerns: like how one of his prisoners had come to be in sickbay. Or more accurately, why she's here, he grimly corrected himself.

When the guard he'd sent to escort D'Anna had returned with news that she was being examined by Cottle, Lee had come in person to find out what the hell was happening. The Admiral had assured him that no action would be taken against those in the Cylon holding cell until Lee had completed his interrogations and made a recommendation.

If someone's decided to enact retribution Pegasus-style…

The half-formed thought choked off any humor he might found in the Marine's discomfiture. Instead, he ignored the taller man, eyes seeking beyond for the missing prisoner.

Interpreting his searching gaze correctly, the guard started, "Uh, Sir, the skinjo—" only to falter when Lee's eyes snapped to his, "I mean, the prisoner, the Doc's got her in the private exam room," the man quickly said.

"Explain, Corporal," reading the man's name patch, "…Willis," Lee ordered.

"Uh, well, the prisoner," the close-cropped red head twitched in the direction of a door off to the side, "she was goading another prisoner, Sir. That C-Bucs fellow."

"Samuel Anders?"

A nod. "Yeah, him," the guard confirmed. Then, "The prisoner, the woman, just kept going on about… Well, she was saying things about Captain Thrace, Sir." At Lee's demanding look, the younger man swallowed, his eyes shifting away before reluctantly continuing. "She said that Starbuck liked it. Liked what that one she called Leoben did…" he faltered again, then finished in a rush, "what he did to her."

Lee froze, his blood chilled as what the Marine was trying to say became clear. He understood now. For whatever crazed reason the female Cylon had decided to taunt Anders with what had happened to Kara on New Caprica. Her visit to sickbay was the result. A certain grim satisfaction filled Lee from the knowledge that D'Anna had obviously gotten a little of what she'd deserved; though he did have to lock down the sudden hunger that he'd been the one to hand out the damage. A stab of jealousy also drove through Lee's chest when it hit that Anders was always getting the chance to strike out at those that had hurt Kara. His mind flipped back to when he'd prevented her from taking vengeance on the virus-infected prisoners—and for a moment Lee wished that he'd helped instead.

Giving himself a mental shake, he brought his attention back to the Marine.

"You'll keep what you heard to yourself, Corporal," he said, his tone warning of the dire consequences if Lee found out otherwise.

"Of course, Sir," Willis hastily replied, snapping up a salute without a second thought this time. "And I'll remind the others, too," he added with a grim look of his own.

Giving the freckled face a closer inspection, Lee finally realized why the guard looked vaguely familiar. This had to be Sunshine's brother. He'd actually forgotten that the nugget's last name was Willis,and now that he thought about it, he remembered occasionally seen the pair working out together in the gym. Knowing that the younger Viper pilot had a crush on Starbuck, it reassured him that the Marine wasn't likely to spread gossip when he'd not only face Lee's displeasure, but that of his brother's, too.

The sound of a door opening pulled his gaze to the side and he saw Cottle pause on the threshold as he spotted Lee.

"I suppose you're looking for my patient," the doctor matter-of-factly said, giving Lee a wave to enter.

Stepping forward, he swept the room with a cursory look, taking in the two alert guards where they were positioned in opposite corners, their firearms at the ready as they covered the figure prone on the examination table.

As his gaze settled on the woman, he noted that despite the IV attached to her arm she still wore the newly issued sweats rather than one of the hospital gowns, a clear sign that her injuries weren't life threatening. The bruising around her neck and face contrasted with the color of her grey top. Surveying her wounds, Lee vaguely recalled that she'd already had most of them when she'd disembarked from the Heavy Raider. It looked like Anders had only tried to strangle her.

Turning to the doctor, "Her condition?" he asked in a neutral tone.

"Gonna live." But at Lee's reproving look, Cottle added, "Like I said, nothing that won't heal. She'll find it painful to speak and eat for awhile. Side effect of someone trying to throttle you."

"But she can talk?"

"Can? Sure." The elderly physician shrugged. "Will? That's your problem, Major."

Lee bit back the automatic correction, concluding that the doctor's mistake about his rank really didn't matter right now. He had more important matters than trying to update everyone on his new civilian status. Instead, "Does she need to stay in sickbay?" he asked.

"An hour or so to finish the electrolytes and then she's all yours." Cottle shifted to leave, but paused to add, "Can't say I'd put her with the others again. Not if you don't want her right back here."

Lee's eyes narrowed as he wondered how much the doctor knew about the circumstances of his patient's injuries. He gave a nod of understanding and turned away at the same time as he considered where to stow the difficult Cylon. Cottle was right though. She couldn't be returned to the specially built cell. So what were his alternatives?

The brig then. Double the guards.

But even as the thought came to mind, Lee remembered that Kara was still confined in one of the unmodified neighboring cells—something that he'd have to rectify with his father as soon as he finished here, he decided. He wasn't about to put D'Anna in an adjoining one where she could harass Kara, and besides, it was ridiculous that Starbuck was in the brig at all.

Making a mental note to speak with his father next, Lee gave each guard a look which warned them to remain sharp while he cautiously approached the figure on the bed. His expression hardened as he read the contempt in the Three's face and realized that she obviously wasn't in a mood to be cooperative. Lee considered altering the order of his interviews to work them more effectively, but before he'd made up his mind, D'Anna abruptly swung her legs over the edge and sat up. The guards' reactions were nearly as quick, each advancing closer to maintain a clear line of fire even as their fingers tensed on the triggers.

Instinctively, Lee retreated a half step, but then waved for the Marines to back off when the woman didn't make any attempt to slide off the bed. He could clearly feel the guards' reluctance, yet didn't shift his attention from the Cylon. When her eyes flicked from one side to the other before coming back to his with the beginnings of a smirk in their depths, he knew the men had followed his order.

Her voice was hoarse when she spoke. "The suit's nice, but I like the towel-look better on you, Apollo."

"Lee will do," he stated.

"So…Lee, what now?" Her tone turned mocking. "A little good cop, bad cop? Thumbscrews? Perhaps the offer of an escort out the nearest airlock?" With palms on the edge of the bed, she leaned forward and gave him a suggestive perusal from head to toe. "Maybe we can find a common ground…or bed?"

Ignoring her baiting, "Let's start with why you're here," he said, purposely phrasing it for her to interpret as she wanted. The smirk on her lips faltered and Lee was surprised when she drew back, gaze sliding away.

"Why I'm here?" She abruptly sounded distant, "Because the universe likes a joke."

He studied her, perplexed by the sudden change. As her gaze met his again, Lee could swear that for a moment she looked lost, like she'd woken to find the world was filled with water and she had never learned to swim. But whatever he thought he'd glimpsed was quickly shuttered as her expression turned bitter.

"Cavil had the right of it, you know," she grimly said. "There is no God. All this," a twirl of her finger, "it's not some grand plan. And we aren't God's perfect creation."

"I never said you were."

"Caprica thought so," a pause, "or at least the other Sixes did." She cleared her throat and grimaced. "Don't suppose I could get some water?"

At first Lee was tempted to refuse, not really interested in extending any comfort to the enemy. But then reminding himself that he had a purpose here, he moved to the exam room's sink. A quick search yielded a metal cup and, after a quick rinse, he filled it before turning back to offer the water to D'Anna. She reached forward with a hand that shook slightly. Puzzled, his eyes darted to hers and he was startled to again see desolation in their depth. Then her expression hardened and she snatched the cup from his grasp. D'Anna avoided his scrutinizing gaze as she sipped and he kept silent until she held out the now empty glass.

"Better?"

A harsh laugh broke past her lips, which then immediately tightened into another grimace at the ill-advised action before she answered, "You really think a simple drink's gonna make anything better?"

"I'll see if the Doc can spare something for the pain."

"That's not what I meant," she snapped back, then her hand rose to her badly bruised throat and she added with less heat, "Fine."

Lee was tempted to rescind the offer, but decided to focus on D'Anna's earlier statement. The Three obviously had something driving her belligerent attitude. Having learned from Ellen of the 'boxing' of D'Anna's entire line, he supposed that could be the explanation for her behavior. Yet he had a feeling that there was more involved.

Deciding on the direct approach, "What happened to you?" he quietly asked and was rewarded with the startled look in her eyes as they met his.

As if having followed his previous line of thought, "Other than having me and all my sisters turned off like so many malfunctioning machines?" she replied, sounding bitter. He gave a nod. Her hard gaze held his for another moment before dropping. When she spoke again, he had to strain to hear her words. "How about learning that the 'sacred visions' you'd been having were no more than suppressed memories." She took a breath before continuing in a slightly louder voice. "Or that the Temple of Five wasn't a holy place prepared by some divine beings or even by the missing Five. No. Just a group of idiot human scientists that wanted to leave a stupid message for anyone that came after." Lee saw that her eyes glinted with moisture as she lifted her head and angrily repeated, "Idiots!"

He was perplexed by her words. She almost seemed…disillusioned? As though everything she'd believed in had proved a sham. Again Lee wondered what the Cylons were thinking in sending D'Anna as part of the parlay team. She certainly wasn't helping make their case for joining with the rebels. Yet, even as that thought occurred, a memory surfaced of the Chief standing over Baltar's unconscious form while a Three lay dead slightly off to the side. Thinking back, he realized that the position of the skinjob's body was as though she'd been pulled or pushed clear of the circular etching on the temple floor. The one the ex-President had been standing upon when they'd captured him. Had D'Anna seen something Galen had missed? A darker suspicion rose as he wondered if the man had purposefully covered up whatever secrets the temple had held.

No. Lee remembered how frustrated the Chief had been at not being able to decipher the mystery of the Eye of Jupiter, and besides, Cally had been with him the entire time.

Yet here D'Anna sat, possibly the same Three he'd seen dead from no visible cause, claiming to have accessed a communication from the temple's creators.

He needed to find out what she knew.

Spotting the stool Cottle used during exams, Lee rolled it over and took a seat, noticing the woman's eyebrows rise questioningly.

"You said they were human scientists. How do you know?"

It appeared at first that she might not to deign to answer. But then she shifted forward on her palms again and said, "Because they prattled on about it. How they'd concluded that pure science was the answer to all of their society's woes." Distaste thinned her lips. "I leave ramblings about the five states of matter to the Fours who care."

"Pretend I care," he ordered.

She gave him a sullen look, but then raised her hand and folded a finger down as she reeled each off, "Solid, liquid, gas, plasma and…" finally with only the middle finger still extended, "…antimatter." She smirked, her satisfaction reminiscent of a certain viper pilot. Lee worked to keep his thoughts from straying to the figure sleeping in the brig as he tried to grasp why what she'd disclosed had seemed to upset D'Anna so much.

"Ok, nothing that a Colonial fifth grader wouldn't know, soooo…?" he prompted.

"So?" Her breathing quickened. "So, I was suppose to find answers. Learn what lies in the space between life and death… Know the face of God." The sneer in her tone didn't seem aimed at Lee. "Guess I'm the fool here."

"Maybe not."

This time her scorn was all for him. "What would you know of faith." She gave him a derisive look. "You're like them, the Thirteenth Tribe. Like Cavil. For all the Ones spouting of God's Plan, they never really believed in anything but themselves." Again her disgust seemed to turn inward as she bit out, "But I believed."

And there it was.

The fact that D'Anna seemed to have lost her faith at the very time that he'd found his, struck Lee as ironic. But what was he to do with this new understanding of the Three? History books were riddled with the chaos left in the wake of such disillusionment…and that was the last thing the Colonials dared risk. Deciding that whatever he recommended to the Admiral and President, it wasn't going to entail trusting D'Anna.

Keeping his thoughts from his expression, Lee asked, "You said there was a message. What sort of one?"

"That relying on nonexistent deities leads to war. And they blathered on about how they'd decided to only look to the physical world from then on." Her hazel eyes were still unfocused as she continued, "They berated the 'old ways'…and anyone ignorant enough to follow them."

Truthfully, it wasn't long ago that Lee would have held the same opinion. Yet so much in the past couple of years had happened that he just couldn't disregard it all. He might refuse to accept that the gods had planned each person's life from beginning to end, but that didn't mean he had remained blind to moments when there had seemed a greater power giving nudges in a certain direction. What were the odds of Starbuck not only returning with the Arrow of Apollo, but that they'd then be able to actually find the lost Tomb of Athena? He was willing to concede that what he, Kara, Laura and his father had seen within was somehow a projection, yet their mere presence in the chamber could be deemed a miracle.

And Kara's repeated survival seemed another.

No one had that much luck. And while he never doubted either Kara's skill or determination, surely there was more at work guiding her back time after time.

Everything pulled his thoughts towards the woman he'd left resting two levels below. He could acknowledge that one of the reasons was that he desperately wanted to be by her side. But it also seemed that each of the interrogations eventually came back to Kara in unpredictable ways. In his mind's eye, Lee could see the circles-within-circles pattern on the temple floor as he replayed his father's version of how Kara had found various forms of the same pattern recurring throughout her life, finally culminating in the mandala within the radiation storm. The one that had irresistibly drawn her in.

Lee rubbed at the back of his neck, feeling the upsurge of a headache forming. Lack of sleep was be playing havoc with his ability to concentrate, but he knew there were still four more interviews to complete before he could rest. Wanting to be done with this one, he pushed aside why the Three's experience had left her embittered, to focus instead on what she'd actually seen.

"These scientists, describe them," he ordered.

"Human," her expression soured as she spat the word out.

"And," he calmly prompted, refusing to be baited by her curt answer.

"Annnnnd…" she mocked, then, with a half shrug, grudgingly relented, "and there were three human females and two males. Older sorts. What you'd expect of professor types."

"So these five's purpose was to what? Warn against following false gods?" he asked, coming back to her earlier explanation. "Why go through all the trouble of building an elaborate temple just to leave a message like that?"

"Why ask me?" she countered, then at his sardonic frown, "Fine. Don't get your towel in a bunch," she said. "Maybe they knew more would follow after. They'd said they'd found," holding up quote-fingers for emphasis, "a way to a better life." With a dismissive hitch of one shoulder, "My guess was they were off to build some great Utopia, and it certainly wasn't gonna be on that planet."

Lee had to agree that that biosphere wouldn't have been able supported a growing civilization. It had been even less hospitable than New Caprica. At least the later planet on which the Fleet had harvested algae had had an environment conducive to crops though the waters had all tested toxic to humans. As it was, only through extensive processing were they able to use the algae at all.

Coming back to what the Three had said, Lee considered what the message had meant by 'a way'. Had they only been speaking of a new social order or of something else? Shelving the thought for later, he stood.

"You'll stay here under guard while I arrange other…accommodations." Then, with a meaningful glance at the on-edge Marines, "Give my men any problems and your next room will have an open exit into space."

At her acerbic look, Lee knew she'd understood.

It was time to see his father.

[ ]

Sometime later, Lee made his way towards the brig once again, he felt like he'd been going back and forth from the detention area for days now instead of the ten hours it had actually been since he'd first followed the Colonel to the detention level. The fact that Saul Tigh now occupied one of Galactica's cells still seemed incomprehensible to Lee.

As he walked, he ignored the nods of passing crewmembers, musing on what he'd learned from his debrief of the President's Aide and Galen. Both had related the same tale of how the Chief had been supposedly 'scanned' by a Cylon Raider on his ascent from the algae planet, and how hours later he'd experienced some kind of psychic awakening. Neither understood how he'd then triggered in Tory and Tigh the same awareness of their Cylon nature. Throughout, Tyrol had continued to insist that the three of them with the fleet didn't remember any of their past lives. That, despite their new knowledge of what they actually were, they still considered themselves to be the persons they'd always been with the same allegiances. Sitting across from this man he'd come to know and respect, it had been difficult for him to envision the Chief ever siding with Galactica's enemies.

As Lee grasped the side railings and stumped down the stairs to D deck, his thoughts turned from Galen and Tory to his confrontation with his father over Kara. On leaving the Three under close guard in sickbay, he'd again sought out the Admiral, this time finding him in the CIC's war room informing Captain Agathon that he was acting-XO once more. Lee had been surprised at how unsettled the younger man looked when he'd interrupted the pair; so little ever seemed to rattle Agathon. Then again, it wasn't often that you found out that your commander had lied to you about the parameters of a mission; that people you'd known for years were apparently enemy agents, and then on top of it all, received a promotion to that of second highest position within the Fleet. The man would have had to have been a machine not to have been shaken at least a little. Any humor Lee might have felt at that thought had been immediately snuffed when he had reminded himself why he'd faced his father across the battlestar's strategy board instead of completing the remaining four interrogations still left to do.

Displeasure had tightened the older Adama's expression as soon as Lee had entered. At his father's gruff, "Can it wait?", that had followed, Lee had shaken his head but stayed silent, watching the Admiral weigh his unspoken demand against whatever he had yet to discuss with his new next in command. Finally he'd dismissed Agathon with instructions to get up to speed on his additional duties and turned to Lee as the hatch again closed them off from the rest of CIC.

"It's about Kara," Lee had quickly said, not wanting the Admiral to take control of the conversation.

"Isn't it always?" his father had practically growled, but then had shaken his head, a hand coming up to halt Lee's protest before he could even voice it. "No. Don't bother. Starbuck didn't make Saul a—a Cylon," his hesitation made it clear that he was still coming to grips with this truth.

"Then why's she still in lockup?" he'd demanded.

The Admiral's gaze had dropped then, away from his, and with a hand spotted with age, had reached out to lift a model Viper from its place on the table. Lee had known to wait, stamping down the impatience that urged him to push; instead, he had watched his father brush the small replica with a finger crooked with arthritis.

"Wonder if he's ever even been in a cockpit," his father had murmured, and Lee had known whom he meant. A shrug was all the answer he could provide when clouded blue eyes had lifted to his. How much of Saul's background was faked was hard to say. He supposed that closer questioning of Ellen might clarify some of it, yet, according to her, even she didn't know all of her husband's journey after he'd been planted on Caprica by Cavil. He briefly wondered if Saul himself would be able to differentiate between false memories and fact.

"I'll ask him," he'd said. Lee had then seen his father struggle to pull himself free of the quagmire of his thoughts and refocus on the duties before him.

"What have you learned?"

"I've still to—to debrief him, Sir." And at the Admiral's questioning look, "I've already spoken with most of them and I'll head back to finish up once we're done here."

"Then why—?"

"You need to release Kara," he'd cut in, then quickly gone on to explain, "For D'Anna's own protection, I've had to separate her from the others. I'm moving her to the brig under double guard."

"What's that to do with Starbuck?" the Admiral challenged and Lee had given him an incredulous look.

"It's the same Three. It's…she's D'Anna."

It still had taken the older man a moment to understand the significance of the Cylon's identity, and then his expression had darkened even as the wing of the model he'd held had snapped off in his tightening grip. His father's reaction had assuaged some of Lee's anger on Kara's behalf. He had wondered how much his dad had been told about her imprisonment on New Caprica, now Lee knew he was obviously aware of D'Anna's involvement at least.

"Do they even want an alliance!?"

The Admiral's terse words had echoed Lee's own earlier thoughts about which Cylons had been sent as representatives. He'd had time since to come to the conclusion that the rebels hadn't grasped the flaw in their choices; it just showed that they still didn't understand how the experiences of one individual could impact so many others.

"I don't think they had much time to consider how we'd react." Lee had moved to the edge of the table and given a wave at the Cylon models scattered across its surface. "From what Kara described, the rebels were surprised by the others' move against them. They're disorganized…desperate…and that gives us the advantage."

"So you're recommending we send a negotiating team to this rendezvous?"

"I don't know yet. I've still to meet with Saul, Sam, Galen and Tory Foster."

"Well then—"

Again he had interrupted, "They're next, but first I want Kara safe."

"Agreed," his father had said. "I won't have her within reach of any of them." He'd paused, "But we don't know her mental state. Before—" Lee had shaken his head, halting his father's wary concerns.

"It's different this time. I'm—we're—here for her," he'd said, and seen shame drop the older Adama's gaze. Had it been for his dad's prior actions…or a more recent harm he'd done to Kara? Again, on recalling her swollen lip, Lee had had to bite back a harsh accusation. Off a deep breath, "For now, give her my quarters. I'll bunk in the CAG's office," he'd said instead.

"And Showboat…?"

For a second, Lee hadn't understand the Admiral's question, then he'd kicked himself. With the former Pegasus pilot's promotion to CAG in his place, the office would by rights be hers. Ruefully, Lee realized that he hadn't considered quite all of the implications of his new position, including exactly where he'd live from now on, just assuming that his quarters would still be his. His chagrin must have shown for the corners of his dad's lips had twitched up with a flicker of humor that had loosened the heavily lined face.

"I hear there's a rack or two open in the enlisted crews' quarters," the Admiral had said. Lee had given him a cautious look, suspecting that his father was censuring him for his refusal of the XO's post. Yet, when he met those familiar eyes, there was no rebuke in their depths.

"That'll be fine, Sir," he'd replied. Then shifting back to his original concern. "…and Kara?"

"As you suggested," then with a finger raised in warning, "on the condition that Sergeant Mathias act as her escort," the Admiral had added. Lee had stiffened, worried at how Kara would react to having a guard assigned again. When he'd started to protest, "It's not open for discussion," Adama had firmly stated, and Lee had given an unwilling nod in acknowledgement.

With that settled, Lee had headed back towards the detention section of the massive ship. Now, as he turned aft along D deck, he rubbed at the back of his neck, the tension increasing the throb of his earlier headache. There was still so much he had yet to do. He grimaced, knowing that his first priority ought to be completing the interviews with Tigh and Anders, but his feet carried him inexorably onward to where he'd left Kara sleeping.

Once she's settled in my…in her new quarters, I'll finish the others.

Recognizing that his desire to check on Kara was only part of his reason for his delay, Lee acknowledged to himself that he wasn't looking forward to the remaining two debriefs. Questioning his father's long time friend would be difficult enough, but it was going to be nearly worse confronting Kara's husband…ex-husband.

Lee ground his teeth at the thought of confronting Anders again. Reminding himself that he had remain objective, had to listen to what Anders had to say and not let his own feelings bias his report, Lee knew that it was going to be far easier said than done. There was no denying that in the year he'd spent above New Caprica, his jealousy had distilled into a vindictiveness that even news of the other man's death had barely dissipated.

And now that he was revealed as a Cylon…

Shaking out his hands, Lee forced his steps forward again from where he had unconsciously halted and gathered the scattering thoughts back to the crux of the interrogations. Could he really trust that these five models were any different than Boomer? Believe that they were the victims of some Cylon coup as Ellen had stated? On his recommendation, the Admiral was willing to either accept or refuse the Alliance proposal. Abruptly, that responsibility felt like a crushing weight and he stumbled into a passing crewman.

"Careful there, Sir." And as a hand steadied him, Lee looked up to see Lieutenant Gaeta regarding him with a less-than-friendly expression before the man masked his dislike. It didn't take much of a leap to guess that the CIC officer blamed Lee for Baltar's acquittal. And if Gauis was to be believed, Gaeta had been so determined to obtain a guilty verdict that he had perjured himself; something that Lee would never have believed possible of the idealistic young man he'd first come to know during his stints in CIC.

Lee had read about how war changed people; he just never really understood until he'd experienced it first hand how it could undermine even a person's core principles.

Giving the officer a nod, "Thanks, Lieutenant," he neutrally responded and stepped free of the other's hold. When the navigation specialist didn't move on, "Was there something you wanted?" he asked.

"What I want—" the darker man broke off, looking away as pain tightened his face. "What I want is my family back. For the Cylons to have never destroyed the Colonies. Can you arrange that, Sir."

Levelly meeting the belligerent gaze as it swung back to his, "All of us wish that, Gaeta. But it did. We survived and if we want to continue to survive, we have to hold it together."

Gaeta gave him an incredulous look. "Hold it together?" He choked back a harsh laugh. "Hold it together. Right…right, what with half the senior staff skinjobs, and that—that traitor allowed to walk free?" The lieutenant didn't bother to hide his derision now as his gaze raked over Lee's civilian outfit. "You don't give me orders anymore, Adama."

"I may have resigned my commission, Lieutenant," using his CAG voice now, "but I still have the Admiral's authority to command Galactica's personnel as I see fit."

Gaeta seemed unmoved by the reprimand. In fact, he shifted forward a step. "Of course you do…Sir," his tone insolent. "How could I forget that the rules don't apply to Apollo and Starbuck. It's like you said on the stand, you're forgiven all; even getting that bastard off. And as for Starbuck," Lee stiffened at the sneer in his tone, "she can try to airlock me as a collaborator, but no one says a thing when she comes back all buddy-buddy with a load of skinjobs."

At his side, Lee's hands fisted. Fighting down the urge to strike the scornful expression from the other man's face, Lee reminded himself that Gaeta didn't know what Kara had suffered at the Cylons' hands. Most of the crew had only rumors and Starbuck's erratic behavior to base their conclusion on, so it shouldn't surprise him that there were those that saw the special treatment she'd received as simple favoritism. It didn't help that the CIC officer was close friends with Dee. He probably—rightfully even—blamed Lee for hurting Dualla.

With these mitigating thoughts in mind, "Back off, Lieutenant. You don't have a clue what you're talking about," he said firmly.

Gaeta seemed about to say something further, but his eyes shifted down the corridor as another crewmember rounded the corner. Without another word, the specialist turned and stalked away.

Lee watched him go then twisted and, sparing a brief greeting to the passing noncom, proceeded towards the brig.