For Kasturi, who asked for Jacob Clifton-inspired Battlestar Galactica fusion. It was very confusing.

"Kore, Actual. Wave off!"

"Kore!"

She wakes to howling winds, Leoben's words echoing in her ears. Would you like to say goodbye?

"Kore, Actual! You're losing altitude. Hard-line in 60 seconds!"

Her hand hovers over the ejection. One click, and she can get out of this like she's gotten out of so many others, and then what? Another day, another raid; watching the clock count down. Maybe this time. Maybe this time.

Oaths and promises.

Would you like to say goodbye?

Her hand hovers over the ejection, and she does not press down.

"Elsa!"

Anna's voice, out in the black. Safe. "Elsa, wake up!"

"Anna?" Her voice sounds like a rusted hinge, but she can speak. She speaks. "Anna, I see it. I see—"

"Elsa, there's no Raider," her sister says. If she closes her eyes she can picture Anna's face right now: tears threatening to spill over, biting her bottom lip ferociously, furious. "Elsa, please, please—"

"You're not supposed to call me that," she interrupts. Kore, Kore, Kore; you have a destiny.

"I don't care," Anna bursts out, "I don't care about your stupid nicknames and your stupid Viper pilot traditions—you've never liked your callsign I know you never—"

"It doesn't matter," she replies, eyes closing and—she's so tired. "Anna, I see it. I see it. Please—"

Would you like to say goodbye?

"Let me go," she finally whispers. Begs.

"No," the word like a loaded gun. "No, I'll never—I won't let you. I won't let you. Come back to me. Come home. Come home."

She opens her eyes.

Leoben is there again. "It's time to go," he says. Gently. "Your destiny—"

But Elsa looks at him. Remembers New Caprica, all of a sudden, how he'd come back, and come back, even though she tried, she fought—

Remembers his blood, under her nails.

Come home. The thought suddenly beats a tattoo in her chest. Come home.

(New Caprica, before, before: they'd gone stargazing, and Anna had pointed at the night sky, charted the stars. "Home," she'd said, pointing at the Galactica.)

Her hand drifts back toward the ejection, and he frowns.

"I am not Leoben," he says, "I am your guide, between life and death—"

Elsa smiles. "I don't care," she says.

She pushes down, and feels her world fly free. Catch me, she thinks.

Anna does.