If she got a dime for every shot....
((Backdated to the day after the club opening. Will contain detailed descriptions of someone going through alcohol withdrawal.))
So she'd had too much. That was nothing new.
Okay, maybe it was this time. It wasn't exactly like she could be blamed for it. What normally kept her away from overdoing it was her duty as a soldier, her sense of purpose. It didn't exist now. Frak, she wasn't even sure what did. Let's just say she was getting worn down, and it was happening faster than usual. So she went to the club, and hadn't paid any attention to how much she drank. She kept herself together freakishly well that night; most people wouldn't have noticed that she had gone well beyond 'pretty damn drunk'.
She didn't remember how she'd gotten back. Maybe she'd crawled. Sador had given her a very reproving look when she'd come in, if dogs could do that. She told her to piss off, that it wasn't any of her business. Sador had not been impressed, so Starbuck fell asleep with two wise eyes fixed on her.
The flight deck was spotless, sure and shining. Starbuck stepped out into a throng of people all going about their business, the knuckle-draggers attending the ships, the pilots griping about how long it took. She smiled. Then she quickly wiped the smile off; it didn't suit a hardass like her to be excited. Not in front of the nuggets.
When she turned it seemed to happen in slow motion, and she thought she could pick out every ray of light on the deck again - it formed a sort of swirling colorful pattern before her eyes, that pattern she'd always loved to draw. There was someone standing in front of her with his back to her, and she knew who it was.
But her smile didn't return the way it was supposed to. She knew what day this was. This was the day of Zak's first mission, the one where he had died. She was supposed to go over to him, throw her arms around him, be happy for him. But this time she could change it. She could tell him that he couldn't go up, she could tell her superiors that she'd made a mistake on his flight test papers, she could kill his dream and keep him with her they way he should have been. She could do what she should have done before. Starbuck ran toward him, grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around.
He was Sam Anders.
"You're never coming back to get these, are you?" he asked in a sickeningly blank voice. He held out what she already knew what was in his hand; her tags, the ones she'd given him when she had promised him that she'd return to get him and the other resistance fighters. Starbuck turned and ran from him.
At the other end of the flight deck, the Chief was repairing her viper, oblivious to the fact that Lee was sobbing on President Roslyn's shoulder right next to him. Lee turned and looked at her, tears staining his face, but his Wounded Little Boy expression was missing. Instead he was strong, determined and passionate, looking more like his father than she had ever seen before.
"You never could face it, could you, Kara?" He voice was too sharp and she wanted to cover her ears before her eardrums burst. "Every single one of us is going to die. Everyone. Except him." And Lee pointed to a figure coming out of the shadows, a figure that shifted and resolved...
Leoban.
He smiled at her. And she tried to laugh that hardass laugh, to show that she understood how pointless it was, but the sound came out as a scream -
Starbuck woke up to a piercing pain in her skull. She couldn't move, the world was moving enough all on its own. Her blood was hammering in her ears and when Sador came over to lick her face in reassurance, she shoved her off. But she didn't do it out of annoyance; it was fear. Deep in her gut she suddenly knew that everything was about to drop from the sky and her stomach turned over and over...
She curled up close to the wall, trembling, and covered her face with her hands to shut out the light.
So she'd had too much. That was nothing new.
Okay, maybe it was this time. It wasn't exactly like she could be blamed for it. What normally kept her away from overdoing it was her duty as a soldier, her sense of purpose. It didn't exist now. Frak, she wasn't even sure what did. Let's just say she was getting worn down, and it was happening faster than usual. So she went to the club, and hadn't paid any attention to how much she drank. She kept herself together freakishly well that night; most people wouldn't have noticed that she had gone well beyond 'pretty damn drunk'.
She didn't remember how she'd gotten back. Maybe she'd crawled. Sador had given her a very reproving look when she'd come in, if dogs could do that. She told her to piss off, that it wasn't any of her business. Sador had not been impressed, so Starbuck fell asleep with two wise eyes fixed on her.
The flight deck was spotless, sure and shining. Starbuck stepped out into a throng of people all going about their business, the knuckle-draggers attending the ships, the pilots griping about how long it took. She smiled. Then she quickly wiped the smile off; it didn't suit a hardass like her to be excited. Not in front of the nuggets.
When she turned it seemed to happen in slow motion, and she thought she could pick out every ray of light on the deck again - it formed a sort of swirling colorful pattern before her eyes, that pattern she'd always loved to draw. There was someone standing in front of her with his back to her, and she knew who it was.
But her smile didn't return the way it was supposed to. She knew what day this was. This was the day of Zak's first mission, the one where he had died. She was supposed to go over to him, throw her arms around him, be happy for him. But this time she could change it. She could tell him that he couldn't go up, she could tell her superiors that she'd made a mistake on his flight test papers, she could kill his dream and keep him with her they way he should have been. She could do what she should have done before. Starbuck ran toward him, grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around.
He was Sam Anders.
"You're never coming back to get these, are you?" he asked in a sickeningly blank voice. He held out what she already knew what was in his hand; her tags, the ones she'd given him when she had promised him that she'd return to get him and the other resistance fighters. Starbuck turned and ran from him.
At the other end of the flight deck, the Chief was repairing her viper, oblivious to the fact that Lee was sobbing on President Roslyn's shoulder right next to him. Lee turned and looked at her, tears staining his face, but his Wounded Little Boy expression was missing. Instead he was strong, determined and passionate, looking more like his father than she had ever seen before.
"You never could face it, could you, Kara?" He voice was too sharp and she wanted to cover her ears before her eardrums burst. "Every single one of us is going to die. Everyone. Except him." And Lee pointed to a figure coming out of the shadows, a figure that shifted and resolved...
Leoban.
He smiled at her. And she tried to laugh that hardass laugh, to show that she understood how pointless it was, but the sound came out as a scream -
Starbuck woke up to a piercing pain in her skull. She couldn't move, the world was moving enough all on its own. Her blood was hammering in her ears and when Sador came over to lick her face in reassurance, she shoved her off. But she didn't do it out of annoyance; it was fear. Deep in her gut she suddenly knew that everything was about to drop from the sky and her stomach turned over and over...
She curled up close to the wall, trembling, and covered her face with her hands to shut out the light.