Wounded Wing - Chapter 118 Specialist - part 2 of 2
Chapter 118 Specialist - part 2 of 2
Their shouting should have roused him.
It hadn’t.
“Cally, what’s wrong with Nikki” she asked, a sick premonition already forming.
The other woman blinked up at her a moment before dropping her gaze to the boy and lifted a hand to brush an unruly lock of hair from his closed eyes.
“He’s sleeping,” stating the obvious, then, “I gave him something,” Cally said by way of explanation as she looked up again. She must have interpreted Kara’s concerned gaze correctly, for she hurried added, “Just half a pill Doc Cottle gave me to sleep.”
“Half?” Kara skeptically demanded.
“Yes, I didn’t want-” Cally broke off as her eyes flitted to the airlock hatch and fell to the decking between them.
As understanding sank in, Kara’s angry disgust at what Cally had meant to do again rushed front and center. Between the Academy training videos and her experiences on Galactica since, Kara understood exactly what the young mother thought she was protecting her child from. A death in space might be swift, but it was also excruciatingly painful-as Cally had partially found out first hand only a couple of months ago.
A point of fact that Kara hadn’t given much thought to herself when she’d decided on her own course of action. With the Chief’s homebrew slowing her thoughts, the idea of an exit from her current pain had pushed away the reality of what she’d intended.
It’s what you deserve.
The insidious words whispered through Kara’s thoughts in her mother’s voice, and she couldn’t disagree with them. All the damage she’d razed in her path through life, culminating in the possible death of Sergeant Mathias just a short time ago, flooded back to taunt her; and Kara found her eyes settling on the glowing button of the control unit once more.
Hadn’t she decided that she was doing everyone a favor?
Really, had anything changed since she’d entered the airlock?
Kara flinched as she recalled the Admiral’s damning words revealing her true lineage. Saul Tigh was her father-and that made her a skinjob just as surely as if she’d come off an assembly line.
Mama always said I was special.
Sardonically, Kara wondered if her mother had always known that there was something wrong with her. If she’d thought she could beat it out of Kara. She had certainly tried. Too bad there was never the chance it could work; nothing was going to change what she was. Like Cally had said…an abomination.
And really, she thought to herself, it even explain why her fath-why Dreilide Thrace-had abandoned her. He’d probably sensed it, too. And once he found out that he wasn’t even really her dad? Yeah, not a shocker that he’d hightailed it out of there and never looked back.
With a kid like her? Seriously, who wouldn’t leave.
Given the same circumstances as Cally, Kara was willing to bet that Socrata would’ve wasted no time finding the nearest airlock to jettison the freak she’d given birth to.
Just like Cally.
But, as Kara’s gaze refocused on the young mother before her, she realized that there were differences. Disposing of her kid hadn’t been Cally’s first move. She’d holed up in her cabin with the boy, instead. Why? If she truly thought the kid was a monstrosity, then she should have been in a hurry to dispose of him-of it. Yet she hadn’t.
Crossing her arms before her, Kara frowned, perplexed at the discrepancy in Cally’s behavior. Then, as the mother clasped Nikki to her, the way her body seemed to wrap protectively around the little boy really registered on Kara.
Cally might have frakking lost it, coming here to the airlock like this, but Kara abruptly understood that she was only trying to shield her child from harm. The irony of it made her huff a laugh. If anyone could understand that reasoning, it ought to be Kara. Hadn’t she demanded the same thing from Sam when they’d been facing capture on Caprica? He’d seen her terror then and hadn’t ridiculed her for it. Strange as it may seem, that memory still brought her a modicum of comfort.
And here now was Cally trying to do the same for her kid.
This was different, though. Here neither were in imminent danger, at least not from the Cylons. And on Galactica, Cally had a lot of people ready to defend her and Nikki. She wasn’t alone in this. Even as these thoughts came to her, a part of Kara realized that they didn’t apply only to Cally. How certain was she that Adama-and Lee-would cast her aside now that they knew she was a hybrid like Hera?
Like Hera…and the same a Nikki.
Staring with widening eyes at the boy, it finally occurred to Kara that, genetically speaking, she was in fact the firstborn Human/Cylon hybrid. Had Leoben in his visions of streams and such somehow possessed this knowledge? What did it mean for the Two’s insistence that she had a destiny?
Her head was already pounding, last thing she wanted was to dwell on the Cylon’s obsession with her.
One niggling doubt did push through the thrumming pain. If Nikki didn’t deserve to be thrown out like trash…to be hurt for something he had no control over, was she any different? Despite her earlier musings over how alike Cally and Socrata were, she just could not envision the woman before her beating her kid. And the same went for Athena.
So, if the fault didn’t lie in Kara’s origins, then where did it fall?
Before she could fully follow that line of thought, a motion beyond the observation window drew her attention. As their eyes met, Kara saw recognition in the crewman’s expression and grimaced as he turned and hurriedly left.
Just frakking great.
It would be only a matter of minutes now before the man returned with a Marine accompaniment.
As her gaze returned to the pair before her, concern over how Cally will react to a group of heavily armed guards storming into the airlock tightened the lines around Kara’s eyes and mouth. It was time to make a decision. If she was still going to space herself, she had to get the other two out, and like right-the-frak-now. As her gaze shifted from the inner hatch to the outer and back to Cally, Kara gnawed on her lip. A reluctance she hadn’t felt under the influence of the alcohol and shock now made her hesitate and she rubbed at her forehead. Where before she had accepted that her memory of Earth was just a Cylon machination, now there were too many doubts pricking the balloon of that belief. Were all her memories manufactured? What if they weren’t; what if she really had found the home of the Thirteenth Tribe?
Unable to answer those questions midst the chaotic state of her memories, Kara resolutely shifted her attention back to the Specialist. Noting how Cally was still trembling slightly, the chill of the room finally became apparent to Kara and she found herself rubbing at the goosebumps on her forearms she hadn’t noticed before, wishing abruptly that she’d donned something over the double tanks she wore.
“Damned, it’s cold in here,” she said, taking a cautious step forward. When the other woman’s only reaction was to nod slightly in agreement, Kara moved closer. “Don’t know about you, but I hate the frakkin’ cold. I’d rather be chilling on a beach on Leonis any day.” Another step. She was within a stride’s length now of the pair. “How about you? Lounging on a towel with one of those little umbrella drinks your thing?”
The corner of Cally’s mouth twitched up briefly. “Like I ever got to Leonis,” she said in response. Then, “Not like I was going to be vacationing there on a Specialist’s income.” Kara nodded, and they shared a knowing look in the age-old complaint of those in the Service at how paltry their paychits were. No, Kara hadn’t ever saved enough either to afford the outrageous prices the resorts demanded.
She’d shifted now to standing just before Cally and, palm up, lifted a hand in request to the other woman.
As brown eyes sought hers for reassurance, “It’ll be ok,” she said, and a beat passed as Cally’s gaze flickered to the remote, then Nikki, and back to Kara before hesitantly placing the unit in her outstretched hand. Closing her fingers around the cool metal, Kara retreated a step and released her held breath.
Activity outside the plexiglass barrier brought her gaze up and she saw that she’d disarmed Cally just in time when the alcove beyond filled with the black-clad uniforms of a Marine Response Team. Her eyes widened, then narrowed in consternation as Adama shoved his way forward to face her through the window. She wondered what he made of the situation as he eyes fell upon the remote she held. It would only take a flick of her thumb to expose the green-lit button. A second-two at the max-and she could signal the outer hatch to open. Kara read that awareness in the Admiral’s grim expression and she wondered if he would prefer if she did it…and save him the unpleasantness of ordering it done.
But then the greying head was moving side-to-side and a pleading look filled those clouded blue eyes.
Kara frowned, confused by the Old Man’s apparent appeal that she not do anything that drastic. Then her gaze again shifted to Cally and Nikki. Of course. Here was the explanation. Adama’s concern was that she’d take the pair with her…and he wouldn’t want that. Yet, even as her bitter gaze lifted to his, Kara recalled glancing through the observation window herself before entering the airlock. From there, both the younger woman and her child had been hidden from view by the surrounding boxes…as they still were.
Then why…?
Her thought broke off as a crewman pointed at the panel and Adama reached forward.
“Starbuck,” his voice coming overly loud through the compartment’s intercom, “This isn’t the way,” he said, and she searched for meaning in his words. She shook her head, taken aback by what she’d almost call concern she thought she heard in his tone.
“Kara, don’t.”
There was no mistaking the entreaty in his tone now, and she flashed back to the look in the Admiral’s eyes when he’d told her that Saul was her father. Shock had prevented her at the time from really taking in the compassion and sorrow in his expression, yet now she saw it again in his drawn face and was perplexed as she’d expected only revulsion when he looked at her now. Another memory then pushed to the fore. This time of Roslin ordering the guards to let her pass, of Laura insisting that Kara be given time to process what she’d been told. Neither of their responses made sense to her. Not with what she believed each of them must think of her now that they knew her for what she was.
Frowning, Kara tried to bring the opposing views in line. Again she shook her head, then noticed the way Adama stiffened. Her eyes dropped to the remote in her hand and Kara decided it was time to end this.
Moving backwards until she was a distance from Cally and Nikki, she paused beside the crate nearest the outer hatch.
“Kara,” fear strained his voice as he called out to her again.
Ignoring him now, she pressed the inner hatch release, then placed the control unit on the crate and dropped to her knees with her hands clasped behind her back. She wanted whatever happened next kept as far from the huddled pair as possible.
It only took a moment for the Marines to rush in, and Kara was unceremoniously shoved face down onto the deck plating. She grunted as someone pressed a knee to her spine, holding her securely in place as her arms were yanked around and cuffs snapped onto her wrists uncomfortably tight.
Guess they didn’t take kindly to her injuring one of their own, she thought as her mind turned grimly to wonder if Mathias was ok. Hoping that the guards’ rough treatment wasn’t her answer, Kara searched their eyes as she was hauled upright. Nothing in the men’s cold expression gave her a clue and she shifted her gaze to the Admiral as he moved to stand in front of her.
“Sir?” The hesitantly spoken greeting swiveled everyone’s attention to where Cally still sat, obviously confused and startled by the guards’ swift entry and actions.
“What…” the Admiral began, only to trail off as his gaze took in the boy still sleeping peacefully in the young woman’s lap. His eyes moved then from the two back to Kara and this time there was the expected accusation in their depths. “Explain!” he barked at her.
Kara shrugged, suddenly too tired to come up with a coherent answer for how the three of them had ended up in the airlock together, let along the intent behind their presence here.
Adama swung his gaze back to Cally then, a raised eyebrow making it clear he expected a better answer from her.
“I-I-I brought Nikki… I thought…well,” she fumbled, obviously also at a loss at what to say either.
Kara watched Adama’s glare move between the two of them before he took a breath and ran a hand over his face, his manner changing as he twisted to fully face the Specialist.
Pointing at Cally and her son, “You two, report to Doc Cottle.” Turn back to Kara then, he paused for a long moment before reluctantly giving the command for her to be taken to the brig. She had to admit that she was surprised that he hadn’t ordered the guards to frog-march her to the Cylon holding cell instead.
As fingers harshly grasped her bare arms and propelled her towards the inner hatch, Kara didn’t glance back at the Admiral.
She’d made her decision to accept whatever came next.
She’d just have to live…or die with it.