FIC: On a Broken Wing (3/3)
Chapter Three:
Sam’s voice was a thick monotone on the wireless when he invited Laura to a memorial service for Kara.“It’s not going to be anything official.I mean, I’d like you not come as the President--“
“Of course, Sam,” Laura said. “I’d prefer to come as a friend.”
He gave her directions to the depths of Dogsville and Laura took them down carefully. “Have you asked the Admiral to come?” she asked him.
“Yeah, but he said he didn’t think he could make it,” Sam said, wounded.
“He’s very busy,” said Laura. “And there’ll be the official ceremony tomorrow.” The flag-draped empty coffin already laid waiting in the airlock.
Sam insisted, “This is the ceremony that she would have wanted too. Just because he doesn’t believe in what she believes--believed in--“
“I’m sure it’s not that at all,” Laura lied.
The sergeant of her guard was not happy at all when Laura told her about the ceremony. “Ma’am, I don’t think--“
Tory chimed in. “Not at all--“
Having showered and changed, Laura tugged on her black blazer. “I’m going.” She slipped the girl’s figurines into her pocket.
“I’ll be fine,” she told both of them. “Keep the guards back in the corridor. I don’t want to turn this into a circus.”
The sergeant and her aide exchanged narrow-eyed looks as Laura swept from her office.
The ceremony was in what appeared to have been an old storage locker, now the dwelling of an oracle. An oracle who used a lot of chamalla, Laura realized after shaking her hand and having to wipe it clean on her skirt.
She situated herself against the bulkhead near the door, trying to stay unobtrusive. It seemed less like a memorial service and more like a disjointed cocktail party. Sam half-staggered up and thanked her for coming, his words slurred.
The space was dark but for many flickering candles, warm with incense and bodies. Laura couldn’t make out the faces of most of the mourners, only the flash off the flasks being passed around. The priestess had retired to a pile of pillows, where she swept her hands through the water in a font, murmuring too low to be heard. Somewhere in the darkness, someone was playing a stringed instrument in a dissonant melody. The experience struck Laura as very Kara Thrace.
Laura recognized Helo and Sharon on the other side of the hatchway that was the only true source of light. They nodded at her and then didn’t look at her again. Laura pulled the Artemis figure from her pocket and started to murmur her own prayers, holding it cupped in her palms.
Cally and Galen arrived, passing without noticing. Cally was telling her husband, “That frakker Baltar actually asked to come; you know he slept with her--” The Chief shushed her before Laura could hear anything more.
Tory had not told Laura about Baltar’s request, probably realizing what her reaction would have been. She gripped the bronze figure until it bit into her flesh.
Leaning on the bulkhead, she felt Bill’s presence. Glancing out into the corridor, she saw him hesitating beside the hatch. She tipped her head, encouraging him to join them. He shook his head in reply.
Stepping out, she whispered, “Come on in, Bill; you’ve come this far.”
“No,” he muttered in reply. “Just came by to make sure you were all right.”
Confused, she said, “Of course.” Holding out her hand, she asked, “Please come in, Bill.”
“No, no, I’ve got to get on watch,” he said. He jerked his head towards Tigh lurking down the corridor. “Saul will represent the CIC.”
Tigh came forward and stomped past Laura without a word, going to Sam. Laura raised an eyebrow, but accepted this flimsy fiction.
“I’ll see you later?” she asked.
“Tomorrow. It’s the funeral,” Bill said before walking away.
Laura returned to the stifling locker. Seelix was handing out lit candles to everyone. Sam said, “I’m not one for speeches or preaching. So I just want everyone to focus on their candle and remember some good time with Kara; I know we had plenty.”
The oracle cackled inappropriately, but everyone obediently stared at the flickering flames. Laura noticed that even Tigh did, a small smile on his thin lips.
In the silence, she finally heard the rain. When Laura had heard Bill and Kara exchange their cadence the first time, she’d been curious and finally asked the origin.
“It’s the sound that space debris makes against the hulls,” he said, smiling at her lack of knowledge. “Tiny particles the size of dust, so it sounds like raindrops; the only rain we get in space.”
Now, leaning against the bulkhead, her ear on the cool metal, she heard the pitter-patter of the rain, brushing along the rushing battlestar’s skin.
She and Bill had awoken at dawn on the cold alluvial deposits, stiff and hung over; it appeared there was an expiration date for such behavior and it had passed them by a while ago.
“Damn,” Bill muttered, still on his knees, massaging his lower back. “I won’t be able to stand for an hour.”
Laura squeezed the thick bunched muscles through his rumpled uniform. “Let’s get back to my tent and I’ll see if I can work that knot out for you.” Her voice sounded a bit purr-like to her ears and she tried to mask her expectant expression as she slipped her hand into his, and tugged him back towards the tent city.
Along the way, Bill spotted Cally and Tyrol seated at one of the scattered party tables. “Better talk to him now,” he’d said resolutely.
Galen had looked worse than Bill, if possible, and struggled to focus up at his commander.
Bill linked his fingers at his waist and said, “I’ve been thinkin’ about what you said, Chief, and you may be right...” He lost his train of thought. “Uh, ‘bout what you said.”
Galen blinked painfully. “Uh, I’m sorry...what?”
Laura realized that Bill had forgotten what he’d decided last night; he seemed only capable of remembering that he’d decided something. She leaned in and muttered in his ear.
Relieved, Bill said, “Oh, right.”
Laura had to turn away and stifle her laughter.
“About living down here. Batterstar’s no place to raise a family,” Bill had said. “So I’m gonna miss you, Chief and I’m gonna wish you good luck.”
Happy, Laura had watched Bill’s pleasure for the Tyrols; perhaps if he let them go, he would allow himself to follow.
Finally at her tent, she held the flap up for him. He appeared nervous. “Maybe we should get some breakfast,” he said.
Gently pushing him in, Laura said, “I promised you a massage.”
When the flap fell back in place, they were in a dim half-light, the walls fluttering in the morning breeze. She came to him slowly, reaching for the corner button of his tunic. “Better get this off,” she murmured.
She was close enough that when she glanced up to meet his gaze, her fingers working as fast as they could on the buttons, his eyes glowed their magnetic blue. She had to be this near-- their labored breathing mingled--to see the color’s depths...his mouth was descending and she quickly licked her suddenly dry lips, shifting her gaze to his lips.
“Hey, Madam Former President,” bellowed Kara Thrace from outside the tent and both jumped away from each other guiltily.
Laura croaked, “What, Kara?”
The girl had flipped open the flap and poked her head in. “Oh!” she had said, “Sorry,” a huge grin splitting her face as she had focused on Bill’s flushed face.
Laura blinked her burning eyes as she stared at the candle’s flame. Yes, that’s the Kara she would carry with her for the rest of time; that grin, that joy, knowing that she’d interrupted and not caring, always the trickster child.
Kara had told them, “Come on, I’m getting married!”
Bill hurried past Laura, buttoning up his tunic, dozens of questions falling out. Laura trailed along, joining the rambunctious crowd that followed the bride and groom to be. Everyone was chattering, bright scarves flying in the quickening breeze, friends and lovers arm in arm.
Bill tucked her arm in his. “Can you believe this crazy girl? It is truly a groundbreaking day!”
She smiled at him, reaching up to smooth his lengthening hair off his forehead. He looked around at the group. “Wonder if Lee’s in here somewhere; he shouldn’t miss this.”
“He’s gone back up top,” said Laura vaguely, quite certain that he wasn’t among them.
“I thought I saw him still dancing last night before we wandered away.”
“We’ll have to wander off again; I don’t think I can handle a Kara Thrace wedding reception after last night,” Laura said, leaning into his solid shoulder as she kept up, stride for stride.
He just grinned back, those blue eyes twinkling in the bright sunlight.
The ceremony was simple and quick; a Kara Thrace wedding.
They stood among the long tendrils of the swaying willow branches, and Bill’s arm slid around Laura’s waist as he listened to the succinct vows from the priest.
The bride and groom kissed enthusiastically and for a bit too long for Laura’s taste, her own longing hard-edged.
His mouth in her hair, Bill murmured, “I should go.”
“What?” she gasped.
He gave her a pained smile. “I’m due back up top in an hour. Think I’ll grab a roll in the market and hop on a Raptor.”
“Okay,” she said, stepping away from his arm.
“Come with me?” he asked, tipping his head, trying to get her to smile back.
She hugged herself, suddenly chilled in the shade. “No, I think I’ll stay here for a while; it’s such a lovely spot.” The crowd had dispersed, seeking out some rag-tag reception venue.
His warm lips pressed to her forehead. “Last night, it was--“
“Yes,” she said, her voice tight. “You better hurry.”
Turning her back on him, she watched the couple as they waded into the water, ready for a ceremonial dunk, laughing as though they were still drunk.
Bill paused up on the bank, yelling his congratulations to them. His face was split by a huge grin; she had never seen him this sort of happy before. She wondered if they could find their own happiness if he were happy with his children’s fate.
Back in the dark locker, the candles beginning to gut, Laura fought her tears, and whispered, “Damn you--what the frak have you done, Kara? Do you know?” She saw again the way Bill’s shoulders had bent under their burden as he’d walked away from the oracle’s locker.
~ * ~ * ~
Bill didn’t go to the CIC immediately; he went to the observation lounge, empty and dark at this time of day. He didn’t often come here but he needed to feel the size and scope of space.
With the gas giant planet behind them, it was just blackness speckled with stars. He realized that he had expected a band of blue and gold to be arcing across the horizon...there was no horizon, no sun shining the way.
Kara had given him Aurora; a dawn, fresh start. That had to mean something.
He laid his hand on the icy glass of the window; there was no cold like space. His girl lay in a frozen grave now.
He’d listened to the recording of her last transmissions five times already. “Just let me go. They’re waiting for me.” His angel’s message was chilling--just let me go.
What had been pulling her away? Who needed her more than the remnants of humanity? Or had it been him who had been holding too tightly?
The end.
Sam’s voice was a thick monotone on the wireless when he invited Laura to a memorial service for Kara.“It’s not going to be anything official.I mean, I’d like you not come as the President--“
“Of course, Sam,” Laura said. “I’d prefer to come as a friend.”
He gave her directions to the depths of Dogsville and Laura took them down carefully. “Have you asked the Admiral to come?” she asked him.
“Yeah, but he said he didn’t think he could make it,” Sam said, wounded.
“He’s very busy,” said Laura. “And there’ll be the official ceremony tomorrow.” The flag-draped empty coffin already laid waiting in the airlock.
Sam insisted, “This is the ceremony that she would have wanted too. Just because he doesn’t believe in what she believes--believed in--“
“I’m sure it’s not that at all,” Laura lied.
The sergeant of her guard was not happy at all when Laura told her about the ceremony. “Ma’am, I don’t think--“
Tory chimed in. “Not at all--“
Having showered and changed, Laura tugged on her black blazer. “I’m going.” She slipped the girl’s figurines into her pocket.
“I’ll be fine,” she told both of them. “Keep the guards back in the corridor. I don’t want to turn this into a circus.”
The sergeant and her aide exchanged narrow-eyed looks as Laura swept from her office.
The ceremony was in what appeared to have been an old storage locker, now the dwelling of an oracle. An oracle who used a lot of chamalla, Laura realized after shaking her hand and having to wipe it clean on her skirt.
She situated herself against the bulkhead near the door, trying to stay unobtrusive. It seemed less like a memorial service and more like a disjointed cocktail party. Sam half-staggered up and thanked her for coming, his words slurred.
The space was dark but for many flickering candles, warm with incense and bodies. Laura couldn’t make out the faces of most of the mourners, only the flash off the flasks being passed around. The priestess had retired to a pile of pillows, where she swept her hands through the water in a font, murmuring too low to be heard. Somewhere in the darkness, someone was playing a stringed instrument in a dissonant melody. The experience struck Laura as very Kara Thrace.
Laura recognized Helo and Sharon on the other side of the hatchway that was the only true source of light. They nodded at her and then didn’t look at her again. Laura pulled the Artemis figure from her pocket and started to murmur her own prayers, holding it cupped in her palms.
Cally and Galen arrived, passing without noticing. Cally was telling her husband, “That frakker Baltar actually asked to come; you know he slept with her--” The Chief shushed her before Laura could hear anything more.
Tory had not told Laura about Baltar’s request, probably realizing what her reaction would have been. She gripped the bronze figure until it bit into her flesh.
Leaning on the bulkhead, she felt Bill’s presence. Glancing out into the corridor, she saw him hesitating beside the hatch. She tipped her head, encouraging him to join them. He shook his head in reply.
Stepping out, she whispered, “Come on in, Bill; you’ve come this far.”
“No,” he muttered in reply. “Just came by to make sure you were all right.”
Confused, she said, “Of course.” Holding out her hand, she asked, “Please come in, Bill.”
“No, no, I’ve got to get on watch,” he said. He jerked his head towards Tigh lurking down the corridor. “Saul will represent the CIC.”
Tigh came forward and stomped past Laura without a word, going to Sam. Laura raised an eyebrow, but accepted this flimsy fiction.
“I’ll see you later?” she asked.
“Tomorrow. It’s the funeral,” Bill said before walking away.
Laura returned to the stifling locker. Seelix was handing out lit candles to everyone. Sam said, “I’m not one for speeches or preaching. So I just want everyone to focus on their candle and remember some good time with Kara; I know we had plenty.”
The oracle cackled inappropriately, but everyone obediently stared at the flickering flames. Laura noticed that even Tigh did, a small smile on his thin lips.
In the silence, she finally heard the rain. When Laura had heard Bill and Kara exchange their cadence the first time, she’d been curious and finally asked the origin.
“It’s the sound that space debris makes against the hulls,” he said, smiling at her lack of knowledge. “Tiny particles the size of dust, so it sounds like raindrops; the only rain we get in space.”
Now, leaning against the bulkhead, her ear on the cool metal, she heard the pitter-patter of the rain, brushing along the rushing battlestar’s skin.
She and Bill had awoken at dawn on the cold alluvial deposits, stiff and hung over; it appeared there was an expiration date for such behavior and it had passed them by a while ago.
“Damn,” Bill muttered, still on his knees, massaging his lower back. “I won’t be able to stand for an hour.”
Laura squeezed the thick bunched muscles through his rumpled uniform. “Let’s get back to my tent and I’ll see if I can work that knot out for you.” Her voice sounded a bit purr-like to her ears and she tried to mask her expectant expression as she slipped her hand into his, and tugged him back towards the tent city.
Along the way, Bill spotted Cally and Tyrol seated at one of the scattered party tables. “Better talk to him now,” he’d said resolutely.
Galen had looked worse than Bill, if possible, and struggled to focus up at his commander.
Bill linked his fingers at his waist and said, “I’ve been thinkin’ about what you said, Chief, and you may be right...” He lost his train of thought. “Uh, ‘bout what you said.”
Galen blinked painfully. “Uh, I’m sorry...what?”
Laura realized that Bill had forgotten what he’d decided last night; he seemed only capable of remembering that he’d decided something. She leaned in and muttered in his ear.
Relieved, Bill said, “Oh, right.”
Laura had to turn away and stifle her laughter.
“About living down here. Batterstar’s no place to raise a family,” Bill had said. “So I’m gonna miss you, Chief and I’m gonna wish you good luck.”
Happy, Laura had watched Bill’s pleasure for the Tyrols; perhaps if he let them go, he would allow himself to follow.
Finally at her tent, she held the flap up for him. He appeared nervous. “Maybe we should get some breakfast,” he said.
Gently pushing him in, Laura said, “I promised you a massage.”
When the flap fell back in place, they were in a dim half-light, the walls fluttering in the morning breeze. She came to him slowly, reaching for the corner button of his tunic. “Better get this off,” she murmured.
She was close enough that when she glanced up to meet his gaze, her fingers working as fast as they could on the buttons, his eyes glowed their magnetic blue. She had to be this near-- their labored breathing mingled--to see the color’s depths...his mouth was descending and she quickly licked her suddenly dry lips, shifting her gaze to his lips.
“Hey, Madam Former President,” bellowed Kara Thrace from outside the tent and both jumped away from each other guiltily.
Laura croaked, “What, Kara?”
The girl had flipped open the flap and poked her head in. “Oh!” she had said, “Sorry,” a huge grin splitting her face as she had focused on Bill’s flushed face.
Laura blinked her burning eyes as she stared at the candle’s flame. Yes, that’s the Kara she would carry with her for the rest of time; that grin, that joy, knowing that she’d interrupted and not caring, always the trickster child.
Kara had told them, “Come on, I’m getting married!”
Bill hurried past Laura, buttoning up his tunic, dozens of questions falling out. Laura trailed along, joining the rambunctious crowd that followed the bride and groom to be. Everyone was chattering, bright scarves flying in the quickening breeze, friends and lovers arm in arm.
Bill tucked her arm in his. “Can you believe this crazy girl? It is truly a groundbreaking day!”
She smiled at him, reaching up to smooth his lengthening hair off his forehead. He looked around at the group. “Wonder if Lee’s in here somewhere; he shouldn’t miss this.”
“He’s gone back up top,” said Laura vaguely, quite certain that he wasn’t among them.
“I thought I saw him still dancing last night before we wandered away.”
“We’ll have to wander off again; I don’t think I can handle a Kara Thrace wedding reception after last night,” Laura said, leaning into his solid shoulder as she kept up, stride for stride.
He just grinned back, those blue eyes twinkling in the bright sunlight.
The ceremony was simple and quick; a Kara Thrace wedding.
They stood among the long tendrils of the swaying willow branches, and Bill’s arm slid around Laura’s waist as he listened to the succinct vows from the priest.
The bride and groom kissed enthusiastically and for a bit too long for Laura’s taste, her own longing hard-edged.
His mouth in her hair, Bill murmured, “I should go.”
“What?” she gasped.
He gave her a pained smile. “I’m due back up top in an hour. Think I’ll grab a roll in the market and hop on a Raptor.”
“Okay,” she said, stepping away from his arm.
“Come with me?” he asked, tipping his head, trying to get her to smile back.
She hugged herself, suddenly chilled in the shade. “No, I think I’ll stay here for a while; it’s such a lovely spot.” The crowd had dispersed, seeking out some rag-tag reception venue.
His warm lips pressed to her forehead. “Last night, it was--“
“Yes,” she said, her voice tight. “You better hurry.”
Turning her back on him, she watched the couple as they waded into the water, ready for a ceremonial dunk, laughing as though they were still drunk.
Bill paused up on the bank, yelling his congratulations to them. His face was split by a huge grin; she had never seen him this sort of happy before. She wondered if they could find their own happiness if he were happy with his children’s fate.
Back in the dark locker, the candles beginning to gut, Laura fought her tears, and whispered, “Damn you--what the frak have you done, Kara? Do you know?” She saw again the way Bill’s shoulders had bent under their burden as he’d walked away from the oracle’s locker.
~ * ~ * ~
Bill didn’t go to the CIC immediately; he went to the observation lounge, empty and dark at this time of day. He didn’t often come here but he needed to feel the size and scope of space.
With the gas giant planet behind them, it was just blackness speckled with stars. He realized that he had expected a band of blue and gold to be arcing across the horizon...there was no horizon, no sun shining the way.
Kara had given him Aurora; a dawn, fresh start. That had to mean something.
He laid his hand on the icy glass of the window; there was no cold like space. His girl lay in a frozen grave now.
He’d listened to the recording of her last transmissions five times already. “Just let me go. They’re waiting for me.” His angel’s message was chilling--just let me go.
What had been pulling her away? Who needed her more than the remnants of humanity? Or had it been him who had been holding too tightly?
The end.