Future, Part IVa (4a/6)
No, I didn't fall off the face of the earth! Hopefully this long installment will make up for the wait for all of you reading this... :-)
Title- Future (Part 4a/6)
Rating - PG-13
Pairing- Lee/Kara
Archiving- BSG 2003, Lee/Kara fanfiction, Fanfiction net, my lj, all others please ask
Warnings- (Mostly implied) torture, violence, language, some angst
Spoilers- Seasons 1 and 2 (however, the spoilers are interspersed with lots stuff from my brain so… ;-)
Disclaimers- I don't own these characters and I am not making any profit off them. I’m just borrowing them for fun (well, maybe not the poor characters’...). ;)
Many thanks go to Audrey for the great beta:-)
Summary part 4a- More about what happened to Apollo and the fleet after Starbuck jumped to Caprica.
Special warning: This part does contain a description (although not too graphic) of torture.
NB: Italics indicate characters' thoughts.
*****
-The Battlestar Galactica-
Colonial Fleet
1 day after attempted assassination of Cmdr. Adama
The corridor outside the interrogation room was the same plain, unadorned gray as the rest of the ship. The difference, however, lay in the chilling sound of a woman screaming.
Well, sort of a woman. Tigh amended silently, as he stepped up to the marines stationed outside the door.
“Has it talked yet?” He asked them abruptly.
The marine nearest to him shook his head. “No sir. We’ve been working it over for several hours now and it still hadn’t told us anything.” Tigh nodded.
“Fine. I want to talk to it.”
The two men hesitated. “I… Are you sure that’s a good idea sir? It was just hours ago that it put two right into the Commander’s chest, sir.” One of them protested.
Tigh waved that away. “I’m aware of the risks, and you can come in with me if you want. But I’m going in.” He waited as they unlocked the door, then stepped inside.
Two more marines were standing inside the room as he entered, holding a bruised and bloodied Sharon Valerii up by her hair. Blood lay splattered generously all around her.
“Take five.” He told them, and watched as they dropped her unceremoniously to the ground. One of the marines who had been guarding the door, an extremely tall blond-haired man who towered over the Colonel, stayed in the room with him as the other two left.
“Doesn’t look like they were too subtle about asking you questions, does it?” He said as he bent down to the shape huddled on the floor.
“Frak you.” She managed to reply as she turned half onto her back to gaze up at him.
“I want to ask you something, and I want an answer.” He stated tightly.
“Why should I…answer anything you ask me?” She shot back, gasping.
“I want to know why you shot the Commander. Was it a prelude for attack?” He continued.
She laughed, then moaned and clutched at her ribs.
Tigh reached over and shook her. “Was it?” He asked angrily. She laughed while tears ran down her cheeks.
“You don’t get it, do you? I’m not going to tell you anything -partly because I just don’t know, and partly because I don’t frakking want to. And did I mention you’re a real asshole? It’s really nice, you know, to actually be able to tell you that now.”
Tigh stood and looked down at her for a moment. Finally, he gestured towards the giant behind him. “Let’s go.” After stepping outside, he spoke to all four marines. “Let up on the physical side of things -I want to try something different.”
“Like what, sir?” One of the marines asked.
“I think there’s a strong possibility it actually wants to die -wants us to kill it. I don’t want to give it that escape. Try sleep deprivation. And there might be a few things of interest in Sharon Valerii’s service record -though how accurate it’ll be is anyone’s guess. But it’s worth a try.” He paused.
“The point, gentlemen, is that I want an answer. Our Commander was shot by that toaster, and I want to know why.” He thought for a moment. “Pick up Chief Tyrol. He and Valerii had a relationship a while back. I want to know if he knows anything about her we can use. But go easy on him -we don’t have any evidence that he’s a Cylon, and he could have been fooled by her just like we were.” The others nodded.
As he walked away, Tigh decided that it would probably be best to move the fleet to a new location -just in case. When he arrived a few moments later however, CIC was already at a frantic level of activity -evidently events had preceded him.
“Colonel Tigh!” Lieutenant Gaeta was saying. “We’re picking up a major Cylon incursion into this system on Dradis, sir!”
Tigh grunted as he quickly considered their options. It would mean stranding Lieutenant Thrace if she ever did make it back, but they had no choice. And at least they’d gotten their people off Kobol.
“All right.” He began. “Tell the fleet to prepare to jump. Send out our fighters, and have us prep for jump.” He listened as his orders were relayed to the fleet. Finally there came the disorientation of the jump, and then the relief of all around him as they reached their destination.
When everyone had assured themselves that there were no signs of a Cylon presence, he left CIC and headed back to the interrogation room. For some reason he couldn’t explain, he had a hunch he wasn’t going to like what he found there.
All four marines were outside, facing the door, and he saw one of them wince when the man caught sight of him.
“What’s going on?” He asked as he reached them.
One of them sighed and opened the door -which wasn’t locked. Why the frack wasn’t it locked? As he entered, he looked down at the floor and fought the urge to gag as he saw the pile of blood and guts that had once borne a woman’s shape.
“How the frak did this happen?”
The two men who had followed him in shook their heads. “We don’t know sir. We only left her alone for a few minutes, sir.” The man who spoke shook his head earnestly. “I don’t know how this happened -she should still be alive.”
Tigh began to swear both vigorously and creatively. “Yeah. Where’ve I heard that before?” He asked bitterly, as he walked angrily out of the room.
*****
-Colonial One-
Colonial Fleet
8 days after attempted assassination
“…and the Captain of the Opal Jewel has asked for help in repairing their drive.”
Gaius Baltar, Vice-President and interim President of what was left of the Colonies, didn’t bother hiding his boredom as Billy Keikeya droned on about this ship’s needs and that group’s concerns. He felt his head begin to droop as he nodded off.
Suddenly something smashed against the table, scattering several papers.
“Frak! What the hell…” He mumbled as he came abruptly awake. He was understandably tired -last night had been quite momentous, really.
Billy had dropped a heavy stack of folders on the table in front of him, and now stood -diffident as always and yet with a twinkle of ever so polite defiance in his eye, a twinkle which hadn’t been there originally.
“I’m sorry if I scared you, sir. But maybe you could actually take a look at what I just explained to you?” Billy half asked and half ordered quietly.
“Well-” Baltar began to say.
“Of course, if you still have your, ah, headache from yesterday I could speak with Captain Adama and ask him if he has any more of that medicine he gave you the last time.” Billy continued with a polite smile.
Baltar blinked. He didn’t know what was in that thing, but it had to have been a collection of several of the most disgustingly vile substances known to man.
All right, maybe he wasn’t that hung over.
“That’s quite all right, Billy. Um, shall we?” He replied, gesturing to the stack of papers that they -or Billy- had been discussing. “So why does the Opal Jewel need help exactly? Don’t they have their own engineer?”
Billy shook his head. “No sir. Their two engineers were killed before they joined the fleet after the first wave of Cylon attacks.”
“Ah. I see. Well, ah…” He was saved from dealing with a topic he had no idea about by the arrival of Colonial One’s communications officer. The latter was a post which had come into existence as a result of the large amount of message traffic involved with presiding over a fleet such as this one.
“What is it Sean?” Billy asked the man.
“A meeting of the quorum of twelve has been convened for tomorrow morning.” He handed Billy a sheet of computer printout as he continued, turning to Baltar. “It seems the meeting was convened by Representative Zarek. As for the topic of discussion, well…” He gestured uncomfortably.
“What is it?” Baltar asked.
“Well, they want to discuss your presidency, sir. They, uhm, say they’re… Well… Apparently they’re not happy with your performance, sir. They’re asking for a full review of your actions while in office, sir. And they’re saying… They’re saying you should never have risen to the office in the first place.” The rather nervous looking little man finished in a rush. Then, having happily noted that his presence was no longer required, he promptly left the premises.
Having recovered from his initial shock, Baltar shook himself. “I’ve been doing this job for barely a week! How can they possibly know anything about the way I’m doing my job as interim President?” He asked angrily.
Billy shrugged. “I don’t know, sir.” He answered in a marginally polite tone. Well, maybe it has something to do with the fact that you’ve almost never shown up for work other than when someone had tracked you down, threatened you, and beaten you over the head to make you get to it. Maybe it has to do with the fact that you told the representatives from Picon and Sagittaron that you didn’t give a frak about their concerns concerning the distribution of water and food supplies. Or maybe it was that time two days ago when you were caught frakking the wife of the Narcissus’ Captain… But of course, I could just be wrong about that! Billy thought much less diplomatically, giving the man a hard look.
Both of them were silent for a moment. Then Baltar spoke, in a much quieter tone than before. “I’m… I suppose I never was much of a vice president, was I? And I am even less of a president.” Standing, he gazed silently ahead of him for a moment, seemingly at something only he could see, before appearing to shake himself out of his thoughts. “Oh well.” He said, and shrugged.
Billy stood before him with his mouth open in surprise, and didn’t manage to think of a response before Baltar walked out of the room.
The man was truly odd.
*****
“Hello, Dad.” Lee said as he walked over to his father’s bedside. The Commander’s eyes opened as he turned his head to gaze at his son.
“Lee.” He said softly.
Lee smiled. “Yeah, it’s me again. You’re looking much better.”
His father nodded. The silence lengthened and intensified. Finally, Lee sat in his usual chair, partly in order to wait it out.
“So, Captain, why won’t you tell what’s going on with the fleet?” Adama asked, his voice sounding both stronger and more irritated than when he had awakened three days before.
“For the same reason that no one else is telling you.” Lee shrugged. “Doctor’s orders. He said you were supposed to take it easy for a few more days or so at least.”
His father’s face tightened. “This is my ship Captain, and I’m in command of this fleet’s defenses -while we’re in the middle of a war. So you tell me -how comfortable would you feel at this point?” He snapped.
“Probably not very much.” Lee admitted. “But this isn’t my call -if you’ll recall, the doc outranks you in here.”
His father snorted. “And since when has following orders been a consideration of yours?” He bit off.
Lee’s face fell, and he stood rather abruptly. “I… I’m sorry if I ruined your morning.” He said, and left.
Adama closed his eyes and sighed. Damn.
How was it that he always managed to say the wrong thing to the one person in what was left of their universe that meant more to him than any other?
*****
Lee moved from side to side in his bed, trying to make the nightmares stop. He tried desperately to escape the death screams of those he had killed. When he dreamed of them it wasn’t normally as bad as this, but now… Now he couldn’t escape from the voices of the people on board the Olympic Carrier, and those of so many others.
He tried to run, but they followed. As he looked down, his feet were suddenly stuck in quicksand. No! He screamed, as the quicksand changed to assume the deep red color of blood. Blood lay everywhere around him.
And then, just as suddenly, he was free.
He looked around him at the grass that lay in every direction, disappearing into the horizon. A soft, gentle breeze touched his cheek, like a soft caress.
When he turned, she stood before him, smiling.
“Are you really here?” He asked, and she shrugged. There was a smudge of dirt on her cheek, the uniform she wore was worn and dirty and she seemed to be favoring some injury to her side, and yet she had never looked more beautiful to him.
“Beats me.” She walked up to him. “It feels pretty real though.” She was still smiling.
“But it really seems to be easier to say things here, somehow.”
“Like what?” He asked.
“I guess… Things that are really frakking impossible to say when we’re awake.” She walked up to him and put her arms around his neck.
He looked into her eyes. “Nothing’s impossible if you care enough, Kara.” She shook her head -disagreeing with him as always, and kissed him.
It felt real and true, like the wind, the sun, the dirt beneath their booted feet.
He pulled back. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
She grinned back at him. “Oh, I just thought you needed rescuing from your dreams. You always did take the weight of the entire galaxy onto your shoulders.”
He snorted at that. “Right. And you never did the same.”
She waggled her eyebrows at him, and shrugged.
“You know,” She continued, “I don’t think I’ll remember this when I’m awake -I never was one for believing in all that Gods stuff… But…” She looked away.
“But what?” He asked, talking her chin with one hand and bringing her eyes back to meet his.
She kissed him again, and this time it was wild, like the sudden storm on a hot summer’s day. Suddenly the rain beat down on them as they clung to each other in an embrace tinged with more than a little desperation. “I love you.” She said into his mouth. “I love you so much.” She paused, and pressed her forehead to his. “Anyways, I just… I guess I realized a while back that I might never get a chance to tell you.”
“I love you too.” He whispered, as the dream ended and the Gods ripped her away from him once more.
*****
-Cloud Nine-
Colonial Fleet
9 days after attempted assassination
Lee had been put in charge of security for the meeting of the Quorum of Twelve. Regardless of his recent injury, the fact was that he was one of the few people with the necessary experience in both military matters and, albeit more recently, colonial politics.
He did however find himself delegating the more physical aspects of his job -despite enjoying his altercation with Vice President Baltar a few days ago, Doctor Cottle had not been pleased to have his orders ignored. Thankfully, in a few days the restrictions on his activities would be lifted, which pleased him no end -one thing he had in common with his father was a definite tendency to loathe hospital beds and doctors.
The circumstances of this particular meeting were somewhat different, however, from the last meeting of the Twelve. There was no press, access to the entire ship was heavily restricted, and despite the use of the Cloud Nine’s luxurious facilities there was a somber and combative feel to the entire proceedings.
Lee winced as he stood off to the side, surveying the screaming delegates. Having finished detailing Vice President Gaius Baltar’s performance in office, Saggitaron Representative Tom Zarek stood, waiting for the current furor to die down before resuming his current speech. Baltar stood at the podium wearing a harried expression and gesturing, desperately trying to restore order.
“And to conclude,” Zarek was saying, “I move that this assembly condemn the military’s blatant usurpation of power in the strongest language, and that it demand the immediate release and reinstatement of the legitimate President Laura Roslin. I also move that a date be set for elections as soon as possible, so that the people of this fleet may be reassured that their democratic institutions still exist -and that they will be preserved!”
This statement provoked a further outcry as various delegates stood in their seats, bellowing out their opinions. Baltar gestured rather uselessly once more, and the brouhaha continued until Zarek raised his hands, demanding silence.
“Is there a second?” He asked into the silence, once more taking over Baltar’s role. The latter stood holding his head in his hands -evidently feeling as useless as he appeared.
Several bells rang. Raising his head, Baltar chose one at random. “Seconded by the Representative for Virgon.” He sighed, and looked over the room. “Is there anyone who would like to request a vote on the proposition put forward by the Representative for Saggitaron?” He asked formally, continuing with the standard procedures of assembly and visibly wishing the end of this meeting were in sight.
No one spoke.
“Then the motion is carried.” Baltar said softly as he struck the podium with his gavel.
*****
“There is no frakking way in hell I’ll give them what they want!” Tigh bellowed into the quiet of the briefing room as he stood, faced by Lee, Lieutenant Gaeta and Major Ramsay of the Galactica’s marine contingent.
“What do you want to do then, sir?” Gaeta asked.
Tigh shook his head. “Well, I’m afraid they’ve left me no option. I certainly don’t want to, but I’ll have to declare martial law.”
“With all due respect sir, they do have a point.” Lee broke in as Tigh turned to glare at him. “They see Roslin’s imprisonment as an unlawful act. And the truth is, sir, the military’s actions in this regard did break the law. The Colonial Constitution clearly states that the civilian government is supposed to be the head of the military, not the other way around-”
“I’m well aware of your opinions on the matter, Captain!” Tigh snapped in reply. “But the problem you and the civilians consistently fail to grasp is that we’re in the middle of a war. If we’re going to survive, then we need to be able to decide what to do in military matters without continual interference from the civilian authorities!”
“And democracy, sir?” Lee asked quietly.
“Sometimes, in the middle of a war, extreme measures are called for. And these are desperate times.” Tigh finished, sighing as he sat back down in his chair. “Believe it or not, I don’t like having to do this.”
He looked towards the others. “Pass the word on to our communications people.” He told Gaeta. “It looks like I’ll be giving a press conference in a few hours.”
Gaeta nodded, a shocked expression on his face. “Yes sir.” He said softly.
*****
“…as a result of these demands we find ourselves with no choice but to declare martial law…” Tigh’s voice was saying from the marine guard’s talk wireless unit as Lee stepped into the brig, stopping before President Roslin’s cell.
“You heard?” Lee asked her.
She nodded wearily. “Yes, and I can well imagine what brought this on.” She said.
Opening her cell, Lee nodded in reply, then stepped to her side to support her as she somewhat shakily got to her feet. He released her as they approached the door of her cell and the eyes of her marine escorts.
“Thank you, Captain.” She said softly, as he began to walk with her towards the Life Station and her appointment with the Galactica’s doctor.
“Until further notice, certain restrictions including restrictions on movement between fleet vessels will be put in place and enforced… We regret the necessity of these actions, but the actions of the civilian government…no choice…” The wireless unit crackled on as the small group of two marines, President and Military Advisor walked by.
The two of them walked slowly through the corridors, the unacknowledged reason for this being the increasingly fragile state of her health. Once in Life Station, the guards fell back, and Lee took her arm again once they were out of sight.
“You know, you don’t need to walk me to and from my appointments every day like you’ve been doing. I’m actually not that badly off, Captain. Mostly I’m just tired.”
He nodded rather self-consciously. “Yes ma’am… Uhm, I’m sorry. I was just concerned, and…”
She smiled somewhat impishly. “It’s all right, Captain. I don’t mind -I’m actually grateful… I suppose everyone needs a friend once in a while.” She patted his arm as she walked a few more steps and laid down on one of the beds. Smiling in return, Lee pulled the curtain around her alcove and headed for his father’s room.
“Hello sir.” He said softly as he approached his father’s bedside.
“Captain.” His father nodded in reply. Then…
“You don’t have to hide it from me you know -I heard it from Saul. He came to tell me himself about an hour ago.”
“I see.” Lee replied. He sat down.
“I also know that you disagreed with his decision. Unfortunately for you however, I happen to support it. I’ve decided to come out publicly in favor tomorrow.”
“But what about the doctor’s orders?” Lee asked with concern. “He said you weren’t to return to duty just yet since you’re still healing from your wound and the surgery…”
“I know that, Captain.” Adama replied. “But I need to do this -things are at a critical juncture right now. This is bigger than just one man.”
Lee looked down at the floor before returning his gaze to his father. “And the fact that we’re throwing away many of the things we’ve sworn to fight for doesn’t bother you, sir?” He finally asked quietly.
“Colonel Tigh is my XO and your superior officer, mister. I am your Commander. Whether or not you agree with us is irrelevant. Your only concern is to execute your orders. Is that understood?” His father responded angrily.
Lee stared back at him for a moment before replying. “Yes sir, I understand. I’m sorry for disturbing you, sir.” He began to walk away, trying to ignore the tears he wouldn’t -couldn’t- shed.
“Lee.” He heard his father call out. He turned around.
“Yes sir?”
Adama looked away from his son, and was silent for a moment. “I… I just wanted to say that...” He paused. “I’m sorry son. I’m sorry it’s so difficult for us to talk. I’m sorry for so many things. But most of all I wanted to say that…”
“Yes, Dad?” Lee asked, standing beside him. Adama looked at him.
“I… I love you son. I may never agree with you on some things, but I do.” He shrugged. “I… Well, I just wanted you to know that. For whatever it’s worth.”
Reaching out, Lee squeezed his father’s hand. “It’s worth a lot, Dad.” He said softly.
*****
-Caprican Sunset-
Colonial Fleet
14 days after attempted assassination
Lee stepped out of the shuttle he had flown over to the Caprican Sunset, and looked around. He hadn’t visited this particular ship in a while.
“Captain Adama?” A voice called out to him. He turned.
“Mother Elosha.” He said softly. “I’m sorry I’m late for our appointment, but several things came up at the last minute, and…” She nodded back calmly.
“I understand. This is a busy time for someone in your position.” She held out her hands and he bowed over them in the traditional religious greeting. “How is Commander Adama?” She asked. “I hope he is recovering from his wounds?”
Lee nodded. “Yes he is. And he should be returning to limited duty in a few weeks or so.” And he’s already giving us his opinion on everything and everyone. Lee thought with some amusement.
She smiled. “That’s very good news.” She waved a hand out towards the shuttle bay’s exit. “Shall we?”
They walked over to her office, a small room located one deck up, sparsely furnished with a table, chairs and several copies of sacred texts.
“Have a seat, Captain.” She said, as she did the same. “So, what can I do for you? This is the first time that you have sought me out for advice, and I must confess to being slightly curious as to what has brought you to my door, so to speak.”
“Well…” He hesitated.
She smiled. “While I am certain you are aware of this Captain, let me reassure you that I am prohibited from revealing anything which we discuss in a session such as this. The respect of confidences made to us by others is a cornerstone of my order. So nothing you say will leave this room.”
Lee nodded. “Yes, thank you. I suppose I’m just not quite sure how to begin.” He shook his head, gathering his thoughts.
“I wanted to ask you about dreams.”
“Dreams?” She asked. “What kind of dreams?”
“Well, I was wondering…do you think it’s possible to have dreams which are true? That show you glimpses of the present or the future?”
She leaned back, steepling her fingers, and was silent for a moment. She appeared surprised by his question.
“May I ask if you are speaking from personal experience, Captain?” She finally asked.
Lee shrugged. “To be honest, I have no idea.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I suppose the reason I’m asking is because I… have had certain dreams that feel like they’re more than just that lately.”
She seemed to ponder this. “I see.” She said finally. Then, shaking herself, she looked back at him.
“The unvarnished truth is, Captain, that before recent events I might have given you a very different answer. But now that I have seen the truth of what we believe in, of what the Gods have taught us and made of us, I tend to see things quite differently.”
“To answer your question, I would tell you that several sacred texts speak of the Gods favoring certain mortals with visions. There were usually several reasons for this, but the most consistent and important one seems to have been that the people in question were near to, or were themselves, people important -even crucial- in the shaping of things to come.” She paused, looking at him. “You are, despite your relative youth, in an important position in this fleet, Captain. It may well be that the Gods have taken note of that fact.”
Lee was silent for a time after she finished, pondering what she had said. Finally he sat up. “Thank you for your time, Mother. You’ve… given me things to think about.”
She smiled. “I’m glad I could be of service. If you ever have need of me again-”
“I will. Thank you.” He said, standing up.
He was deep in thought as he walked back to the shuttle, and later as he flew back to the Galactica.
What he had been told made him uneasy, in a way. The truth of it was that he had never been easy with the recent strength of President Roslin’s religious convictions. One reason for his discomfort, he admitted, was probably the fact that he had never been the most religious person himself, despite having been raised by his mother to follow the formalities of organized religion. He often found it difficult to believe that there was something more out there than what he saw and perceived with his senses. But there was more to it than that.
Despite his personal commitment to following a righteous path in his life, he had always been uncomfortable with the notion that there was one way to follow and only one correct way to be. And it seemed that recent events had collapsed everything into an either/or binary view of the world for many people among the fleet.
Worrisome, that.
*****
Part 4b/6