[fic] Five First Nights Back on Galactica
A little slapdash, but I wanted to throw this out there before it gets jossed. Much love to wisteria_ for her eagle eye and staging help!
Title: "Five First Nights Back on Galactica"
Rating: G
Spoilers: through Exodus, Part 2 (303.2 or whatever the frakking number is!)
Characters: Various
Summary: It’s good to be home, she muses, even though really one battlestar is much like another.
x-posted to bsg2003fics
Five First Nights Back on Galactica
One
It’s good to be home, she muses, even though really one battlestar is much like another. And this one’s scruffier than most, but she’s fond of every dent and scrape on the bulkheads. She looks on with bemusement as the Admiral - she still finds it hard to think of him as her father-in-law - is borne off in triumph.
As the crowds disperse she starts thinking about where they’re going to bunk. Her gear is still in the Raptor; her heart sinks as she realizes that she has far more now than most of the people they rescued from New Caprica. She wonders again how many came back, and how much notice they had that they were leaving.
Lee comes back to her side. “Dad says we have his quarters for the night.”
“What? That’s not necessary. It’s totally against regs. We can - ”
“Admiral’s orders. He says we only get the one night, so you’re not to argue.” He kisses her forehead, smiling at her discomfiture. “I should help Chief with redirecting everyone. But you go get a hot shower, before the water runs out.”
“You should go first. You’ve still got broken glass in your hair.”
His jaw shifts at the memory of his ship. “I could use the distraction right now. You go,” and already his eyes have that distance, the look of command in them, and she knows he’s already busy with other matters.
“Okay. Don’t stay all night. It was a big day for us, too.”
He doesn’t answer, but gives her shoulder a squeeze.
Later, as she heads to bed, she catches sight of the picture on the Admiral’s desk. She stares at the sunlit figures and tries to see in them the men she loves. Shaking her head, she takes up the frame and sets it just by her pillow, to keep watch all night.
Two
He watches his former XO pass by, battle-scarred and bent. Wants to say something, but he hasn’t spoken to anyone since he came aboard the Raptor. He doesn’t know who he should talk to. He doesn’t feel like one of the settlers, but he chose to go planetside, so in the eyes of those who stayed he guesses he’s no better than a deserter.
He starts moving. Not towards the Raptors that are taking people back to their original ships: as lowly as he’s become in the eyes of the military, he suspects he’s better off here on Galactica than with the civilians. He keeps his eyes averted as he passes people in uniform. There are enough refugees milling about that he doesn’t stick out too badly.
CIC. The lights flash on what used to be his board. So few crew members - how did they fly the old bird with just this handful? He watches them and is surprised by the violent desire to stride in and push them all aside, show them how it’s done. He walks away before he makes good on the urge.
Where to go, where to go… Officers’ quarters will have too many questions attached, at least for tonight. Plus, they may be using some of the space as overflow for the settlers who can’t be relocated right away. Starboard quarters? He’s not even sure if that side’s operational. Surely they closed it down after everyone mov-
The lab. Of course. Quiet, and Gaius sure as Hades isn’t going to need it. The irony of it all makes him want to weep. Felix practically quick-steps through the halls. It’s the work of a moment to try the lock, give thanks that no one feels the need to protect two thousand dusty blood samples, and close the hatch. Just himself, now, and Baltar’s machines.
Three
The lights in the landing bay hurt his eye. New Caprica didn’t have much in the way of lights, except the floodlights on the Cylon tower. Frakking bastards. A glorious thing, when Galactica came down through the sky like Icarus, and the Vipers blew the gate wide open. He’d never dreamed of such a sight.
Gotta keep moving. A flash of golden hair catches his eye and he starts to turn his head, but it’s the wrong color - not rich enough. No. All that’s past. He’s a soldier now, that’s all he can do. Saul, make yourself useful. They’ll be toasting the Admiral for hours yet. Find something to sink your teeth into.
He picks up speed, fighting to maintain purchase on Galactica’s slick floors. Adama keeps the logs in his quarters, but there are copies in the ship’s library. Might as well find out what the Fleet’s been up to in the last four months. He makes one stop on his way to the archives (doesn’t even need to turn the lights on, no need to look around his quarters and see who’s not there) - finds the flask and tucks it into his jacket before hobbling back to his duties.
Four
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Sorry I’m so late. The crew needed - ”
“It’s okay,” Cally says, and kisses him. “It’s your hangar deck. Nicolas was exhausted. He went right to sleep after dinner. Did you get to eat something?”
“No - yeah, yeah, Helo had something sent up from the mess. Not much but it was hot, at least.”
“Did you see Starbuck? I never expected to see her again.”
“She’s a fighter.”
“Who was that little girl she was with? The little blond girl?”
“Dunno. Some kid she rescued, I guess. The mom saw her and started crying all over Starbuck.” He takes a deep breath and looks around. “So we got the storage locker, huh?”
She smiles and looks around as well. “It was more private than the bunkroom. I figured everyone would appreciate not hearing the baby wake up five times a night.”
“It’s good,” he says, and kisses the top of her head. Takes another breath. “It’s good.”
Five
Somehow she finds her way out of the hangar deck, avoids the crowds and crates and heads to darkness and safety. She starts walking towards the bunkroom but she catches a flash of someone’s pilot insignia and realizes, with the modicum of self-preservation left to her, that Kat will be there and be insufferable. She knows Sam will be looking for her but right now she needs to get away. She’s not used to people any more.
She keeps turning corners, always away from voices and footsteps. A familiar passageway looms ahead. She climbs a ladder, walks down a corridor, and there it is. The wheel turns squeakily, but it turns.
The observation deck is deserted, and Kara sinks onto the cushions gratefully. She’s dogged the hatch but doesn’t bother to turn on the lights. The stars are enough for her to see by. She lays a hand on the glass and falls asleep in the cold embrace of Galactica and the void.
~fin~
Title: "Five First Nights Back on Galactica"
Rating: G
Spoilers: through Exodus, Part 2 (303.2 or whatever the frakking number is!)
Characters: Various
Summary: It’s good to be home, she muses, even though really one battlestar is much like another.
x-posted to bsg2003fics
Five First Nights Back on Galactica
One
It’s good to be home, she muses, even though really one battlestar is much like another. And this one’s scruffier than most, but she’s fond of every dent and scrape on the bulkheads. She looks on with bemusement as the Admiral - she still finds it hard to think of him as her father-in-law - is borne off in triumph.
As the crowds disperse she starts thinking about where they’re going to bunk. Her gear is still in the Raptor; her heart sinks as she realizes that she has far more now than most of the people they rescued from New Caprica. She wonders again how many came back, and how much notice they had that they were leaving.
Lee comes back to her side. “Dad says we have his quarters for the night.”
“What? That’s not necessary. It’s totally against regs. We can - ”
“Admiral’s orders. He says we only get the one night, so you’re not to argue.” He kisses her forehead, smiling at her discomfiture. “I should help Chief with redirecting everyone. But you go get a hot shower, before the water runs out.”
“You should go first. You’ve still got broken glass in your hair.”
His jaw shifts at the memory of his ship. “I could use the distraction right now. You go,” and already his eyes have that distance, the look of command in them, and she knows he’s already busy with other matters.
“Okay. Don’t stay all night. It was a big day for us, too.”
He doesn’t answer, but gives her shoulder a squeeze.
Later, as she heads to bed, she catches sight of the picture on the Admiral’s desk. She stares at the sunlit figures and tries to see in them the men she loves. Shaking her head, she takes up the frame and sets it just by her pillow, to keep watch all night.
Two
He watches his former XO pass by, battle-scarred and bent. Wants to say something, but he hasn’t spoken to anyone since he came aboard the Raptor. He doesn’t know who he should talk to. He doesn’t feel like one of the settlers, but he chose to go planetside, so in the eyes of those who stayed he guesses he’s no better than a deserter.
He starts moving. Not towards the Raptors that are taking people back to their original ships: as lowly as he’s become in the eyes of the military, he suspects he’s better off here on Galactica than with the civilians. He keeps his eyes averted as he passes people in uniform. There are enough refugees milling about that he doesn’t stick out too badly.
CIC. The lights flash on what used to be his board. So few crew members - how did they fly the old bird with just this handful? He watches them and is surprised by the violent desire to stride in and push them all aside, show them how it’s done. He walks away before he makes good on the urge.
Where to go, where to go… Officers’ quarters will have too many questions attached, at least for tonight. Plus, they may be using some of the space as overflow for the settlers who can’t be relocated right away. Starboard quarters? He’s not even sure if that side’s operational. Surely they closed it down after everyone mov-
The lab. Of course. Quiet, and Gaius sure as Hades isn’t going to need it. The irony of it all makes him want to weep. Felix practically quick-steps through the halls. It’s the work of a moment to try the lock, give thanks that no one feels the need to protect two thousand dusty blood samples, and close the hatch. Just himself, now, and Baltar’s machines.
Three
The lights in the landing bay hurt his eye. New Caprica didn’t have much in the way of lights, except the floodlights on the Cylon tower. Frakking bastards. A glorious thing, when Galactica came down through the sky like Icarus, and the Vipers blew the gate wide open. He’d never dreamed of such a sight.
Gotta keep moving. A flash of golden hair catches his eye and he starts to turn his head, but it’s the wrong color - not rich enough. No. All that’s past. He’s a soldier now, that’s all he can do. Saul, make yourself useful. They’ll be toasting the Admiral for hours yet. Find something to sink your teeth into.
He picks up speed, fighting to maintain purchase on Galactica’s slick floors. Adama keeps the logs in his quarters, but there are copies in the ship’s library. Might as well find out what the Fleet’s been up to in the last four months. He makes one stop on his way to the archives (doesn’t even need to turn the lights on, no need to look around his quarters and see who’s not there) - finds the flask and tucks it into his jacket before hobbling back to his duties.
Four
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Sorry I’m so late. The crew needed - ”
“It’s okay,” Cally says, and kisses him. “It’s your hangar deck. Nicolas was exhausted. He went right to sleep after dinner. Did you get to eat something?”
“No - yeah, yeah, Helo had something sent up from the mess. Not much but it was hot, at least.”
“Did you see Starbuck? I never expected to see her again.”
“She’s a fighter.”
“Who was that little girl she was with? The little blond girl?”
“Dunno. Some kid she rescued, I guess. The mom saw her and started crying all over Starbuck.” He takes a deep breath and looks around. “So we got the storage locker, huh?”
She smiles and looks around as well. “It was more private than the bunkroom. I figured everyone would appreciate not hearing the baby wake up five times a night.”
“It’s good,” he says, and kisses the top of her head. Takes another breath. “It’s good.”
Five
Somehow she finds her way out of the hangar deck, avoids the crowds and crates and heads to darkness and safety. She starts walking towards the bunkroom but she catches a flash of someone’s pilot insignia and realizes, with the modicum of self-preservation left to her, that Kat will be there and be insufferable. She knows Sam will be looking for her but right now she needs to get away. She’s not used to people any more.
She keeps turning corners, always away from voices and footsteps. A familiar passageway looms ahead. She climbs a ladder, walks down a corridor, and there it is. The wheel turns squeakily, but it turns.
The observation deck is deserted, and Kara sinks onto the cushions gratefully. She’s dogged the hatch but doesn’t bother to turn on the lights. The stars are enough for her to see by. She lays a hand on the glass and falls asleep in the cold embrace of Galactica and the void.
~fin~