Out of the Black- Chapter 3
Title: Out of the Black
Chapter: 3/8
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica/Firefly
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Ensemble, both shows. Very Kara-centric and Lee-centric, somewhat Roslin-centric
Pairings: Mostly gen, with canon pairings (Kara/Lee primarily, with mentions of Kara/Sam, Lee/Dee, Adama/Roslin, Helo/Athena) and Kaylee/Tyrol
Summary: Just before the jump to Earth, the Fleet comes into contact with a small transport ship of non-Colonial origins. (AU after Revelations)
Spoilers: Up to and including Season 4.5 for BSG and the Big Damn Movie for Firefly.
Author's Note: I wrote the original Out of the Black over a year ago, and looking back was not pleased with it at all, there was so much I wanted to do with the story that I just didn't pull off and so I decided to rewrite it, do more justice to both of the stories I wanted to tell. The original story is still archived at ootbverse and will remain there. If you have read the original, I welcome you to read this new version of the story as it does take a different direction from the original. Beta'd by taragel . All information on the 'Verse detailed in this fic has been taken from the Map of the Verse poster and the Atlas of the Verse booklet.
A cookie for anyone who recognizes the quote! You'll know it when you see it.
It takes nearly a week for her to get back on her feet-well enough to travel, that is-but when she’s recovered from her fainting spell, Roslin finds herself aboard Serenity. Apparently, Cottle had made the decision to turn her treatment over-in part-to the medic residing on the new ship. In the two hours since she’s arrived, she’s been interviewed about her condition incessantly and pin-pricked by more needles than she cares to count. It’s more tension than she wants to deal with-today of all days, when ballots are being cast to determine whether to end their journey here or keep going.
Fifteen minutes after Doctor Tam excuses himself to run more analyses, there’s a light knocking at the door to the infirmary. Laura looks up to see a man with dark skin and grey hair standing at the entryway with a tray in his hands. “Pardon the intrusion, but I thought you might like something to eat.”
For the first time all morning, she feels like a guest rather than a science experiment. “Thank you. That’s very thoughtful of you, Mr.-”
“Just Book. I go by Book,” he says, walking into the room. “And you are Laura Roslin? I’ve heard about you from the captain.” He sets the tray on her lap with a warm smile. The matter on the plate is rather grey in color, obviously heavily processed, and rather formless. “I’m sorry that we don’t have something better to offer. Lately we’ve been eating a lot of protein. It’s inexpensive and easy to come by.”
What would have looked like an unappetizing meal several years ago, suddenly has her mouth watering. “No, this is wonderful.” Laura starts to feel a genuine smile form on her lips. This is the first good thing that has happened to her since their initial encounter with Serenity. “We’ve been eating nothing but algae for almost a year.”
“Algae?” He raises a curious eyebrow.
“We didn’t have any way to grow more food, so we’ve had to make do with what we could find.”
“I’ve always made it a practice never to turn away food when so many go without, however, I imagine a diet of nothing but algae is something one would…” He pauses, sounding like he’s reaching for delicacy. “…tire of quite easily.”
Laura finds that she’s enjoying Book’s company, he is a comforting presence, and she finds relief in his genuine interest. Unlike Captain Reynolds, who had seemed wary and guarded throughout the bare bones summary of their story, Book seems to be searching for something more. She finds herself telling him about the algae planet, the loss of ships in the journey through the star cluster, searching for the Eye of Jupiter, a race against a star about to go nova.
He listens with rapt attention as she tells him about Bill’s resolve to nuke the planet to keep their enemies from getting the Eye; even if it meant the loss of his only living son. “It sounds as though you and the Admiral have had to make some very hard decisions these past few years. Tell me,” he adds softly. “What exactly was so important about this Eye of Jupiter?”
Laura falters for a moment, the question momentarily catching her off guard. She quickly collects herself and continues. “The Eye of Jupiter is spoken of in the Sacred Scrolls. It was supposed to be a signpost, to point the way to Earth.” She fights to keep the implications of it all in the back of her mind.
“Well, the sign post was correct in pointing you in the right direction.” He seems to have picked up on her uneasiness. “It just seems to have been a little too late.”
He is right, of course. While they may not have found Earth, they do seem to have found the Thirteenth Tribe, the rest of their fellow humans, though it’s under less than ideal conditions.
“Out of curiosity, why Earth? The captain told me that your home worlds were destroyed and finding Earth became your goal. So why Earth in particular? Couldn’t you have stopped at another habitable planet?”
She falters again, wondering if this tribe’s ignorance of the Eye of Jupiter extends to all of the Colonial Faith. Perhaps it was lost with Earth. She quickly fills Book in on the basic tenets, Kobol, the thirteen tribes and the exodus, and the Arrow of Apollo and Tomb of Athena.
“Apollo, Athena,” he echoes softly. In his voice is the first sign of recognition that he’s shown to anything she’s said. “You worship the Greek Gods?”
“Greek?”
“Thousands of years ago, on Earth That Was, there was a country, Greece, whose religion spoke of the gods you speak of. Their religion hasn’t been actively practiced for millennia, though it isn’t entirely forgotten. Several planets bear the names of their gods… Persephone and Aphrodite for example.”
Not only have they found a dead world, but their religion is dead as well. They talk a bit longer about the commonly practiced faiths in this world. Book tells her he is a priest of a religion called Christianity-that has arisen from a set of beliefs that all center around the idea of a single, all-knowing god.
She holds her hand to her mouth trying to block the sound of the half-sobbing laugh that breaks from her chest. Book gives her a quizzical look, “Have I said something upsetting?”
She just shakes her head, turning her attention to her food, lifting a forkful of the grey substance. “So, you’re a priest,” she says, forcing her way through the discomfort, a sense of curiosity building. For lack of a better question, she asks, “What’s that like?”
“Well,” he laughs, “I don’t think you want me to bore you with the details of my spiritual journey. I can tell you however, that it isn’t all tediously boring study.” Another laugh. “There was this one time at the monastery-”
Book keeps her company with stories-about the monastery, about Serenity-while she eats her food. He stays with her until Simon returns with some test results and asks to be alone with his patient.
“Laura,” he says, as he stands to leave. “For what it’s worth, it doesn’t matter to me what a person believes, just that she does believe.”
“I’m sure you can imagine that the past few days have greatly shaken my beliefs.” She keeps her tone firm and even. With no Earth, there is no promised land to lead her people to, no land she would not live to see. She sees a certain irony in it all, that the loss of Earth has perhaps led to another chance for her to live-that is of course, should the citizens vote to stay.
He simply smiles as he takes her tray. “And I’m sure you can imagine that meeting an entire society that follows an old Earth-That-Was religion makes one question one’s beliefs as well.”
=========================
Early projections look like we may finally be coming to the end of our journey, but exit polls proved to be unreliable back during the-
“Would someone turn that frakking thing down?” Kara shouts, not looking up from her cards. If the day they found The Bug was tense, today is completely and utterly nerve-wracking. She’s trying to think about the cards in front of her and nothing else. No point in obsessing over the vote, it’s not like there’s anything they can do about it now.
Someone turns the wireless down, but still loud enough so that those crowded around it can still hear the news. The self-righteous Colonial Gang just becomes another part of the din and Kara pulls her attention back to her own table in time to catch Costanza’s ramble. “-so then the other dinosaur goes ‘Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!’ and-”
“You gonna chat or you gonna play, Hot Dog?” she snaps. It’s not the first story she’s heard about Serenity’s pilot, Wash. Apparently, in the week since CAP’s been restructured to include the new ship, Wash has made buddies with the pilots, keeping them chattering and joking over the comms rather than actually doing their jobs. Sure, the fleet has been holding their position; sure, they have a truce with some of the cylons; but it still doesn’t mean that they’re home free. Not yet.
Hot Dog quickly cuts off his story, his eyes turned towards Kara. He doesn’t move or say anything. Her gaze flicks towards Helo and Racetrack who are both silently staring at her over their cards. “What?!”
“Bet’s to you, ‘Buck,” Helo says.
“Right.” She blinks hard; frak, she is really out of it. She looks at her cards, finally realizing what a shitty hand she has this round. “I raise,” she says, grabbing another twenty cubits from her stash and dropping them into the middle of the table.
Kara manages to win the hand on her bluff, and she grins at Racetrack’s utter indignation at the fact. She’s starting the deal for the next round when a hush settles over the rec room. All the voices drop to whispers and all attention turns toward the doorway, through which the captain and the first mate of The Bug have just entered.
She puts the cards down and folds her arms over her chest, sizing the two of them up. They don’t look like much, wearing some really frakking weird clothing, but that’s about the most she can say.
The two stand, watching the rest of the group for a moment, before the man steps over to the card table. “What’s the game?” he asks, settling into an empty chair between Racetrack and Helo.
“Triad,” Racetrack replies.
“Never heard of it.” He sits forward, looking like he wants to be dealt in.
Racetrack and Hot Dog exchange a small smirk, before Helo gives Kara a subtle nod. Seems like all of them are thinking the same thing-easy win. She turns to the captain. “If you got something to bet with, we’d be glad to teach you,” she says, shooting them a smile anyone else might recognize as dangerous.
“Why not? Figure I got some time on my hands.” He turns over his shoulder to look at his companion. “Zoë, wanna play a hand?”
“Not yet, sir. I’d like to learn from your mistakes first,” she replies, coolly.
Mal digs a bunch of strange coins out of his pocket and sets them on the table off. “Platinum,” he tells Kara, catching her raised eyebrow. “Don’t exactly know what it’s worth of your metal there,” he says, gesturing to the stack of cubits by her elbow. “But I figure it’ll do me ‘til I got something more to bet with. If that’s alright with you.”
Kara lays the cards face up on the table, goes through the deck, the suits, the hands, and when Mal tells her he’s got the gist of it, she deals him in. “Ante up.”
She picks her hand up without taking her eyes off of Mal. He’s not a bad-looking guy, she thinks, fleetingly, but he doesn’t look too bright, either. As the guy surveys his hand with something of an amused look. His first mate looks on over his shoulder and mutters something to him in a language that Kara doesn’t understand. Great, of course they speak some other language, just going to make it all that much harder to blend in when they move onto these stupid rocks-if they move onto these stupid rocks. She’s not sure at any given moment which side she wants the vote to come down on.
Kara can’t really say she’s had many good experiences on the last few planets they came across.
“So, Captain,” she says, narrowing her gaze at Mal, cutting off his first mate mid-sentence. “Sounds like your pilot has been keeping my pilots playing games when they’re supposed to be on duty. Yeah, Hot Dog, I’m looking at you.”
“Can’t very well blame me for the actions of my pilot-” he trails off, prompting her for her name.
“Kara Thrace. Captain.”
“Well, Captain Thrace, like I said, can’t blame me for what he does. But, if you have a qualm,” he pauses, starting to gesture over his shoulder, “you can take it up with-”
“If you say ‘his wife,’ it’ll be the last thing you say,” Zoë says, laying a hand on his shoulder in a way that promises imminent death.
“You know you could stand to put him on a tighter leash from time to time.” He jokes it off and turns back to Kara. “I was goin’ to say you can take it up with him. Sounds like you’re the one in charge ‘round these parts.”
“She’s the CAG,” Hot Dog says, raising his bet. Racetrack matches the raise.
Mal and Zoë share another brief exchange in that frakking language before Mal drops a few platinum into the center of the table. “You don’t say. We didn’t have much of an air force, did most of our fightin’ planetside.”
“You’re soldiers?” Helo asks, eyebrow raised. His gaze flicks back and forth between Zoë and Mal. “Both of you.”
“Were,” Zoë says.
“The Unification War, right?” Racetrack asks.
“Are we talking or are we playing?” Kara snaps, drawing the others’ attentions back to the game. It’s the first time all day that she’s had a decent hand and she’s ready to lay down her cards.
When it comes around to Mal’s turn to reveal, he lays them down and says, “Now, I ain’t exactly sure what this hand is called, but I reckon it ain’t half bad.”
“Frak me,” Kara hisses, leaning over the table to get a better look. “Four on a run? On your first hand?” Racetrack rolls her eyes and calls it as beginner’s luck, but Kara continues to regard Mal with a wary look as she settles back in her seat. “How did you do that, Captain?”
“Well, Captain, y’all don’t think you’re the only soldiers who ever passed the downtime playing cards, do you?” Mal scoops his winnings towards himself. “I figure cards are universal. Rules change, hands change, but it don’t matter what game you’re playin’ as long as you know how to play a table.”
Kara mutters a small noise of appreciation, thinking that maybe the cowboy isn’t as dumb as he looks. “Not bad.” She leaned forward, a smirk on her face and a challenge in her eyes. “Bet you can’t do it again.”
Zoë pulls a chair up to the table as Hot Dog deals the next round. The two of them stick around, playing cards and swapping war stories with them, for the better part of two hours. It turns out that Mal’s first hand was a bit of luck, because Kara’s now sitting with a significant pile of his platinum along with her cubits, but he doesn’t seem to lament his losses.
“So,” Kara says, dealing the next round, “What’ve you been doing since the war ended?”
“Got a ship, got a crew, kept flyin’.” Mal picks up his hand, arranging his cards. “Not exactly the most profitable life, but it’s a livin’.”
Might not be a profitable life, but Kara likes the sound of it-not being tied down to one of these planets, She’s always felt better in space than on the ground. Of course there is the little problem of affording a ship like that. Their money is completely worthless right now and getting on her feet planetside is going to be hard enough as it is. Frak.
Before Kara has the chance to say anything else, Sharon walks in with Hera balanced on her hip. She kisses Karl quickly before sliding Hera into his lap, saying she’s rostered for CAP and rushing out.
Mal casts a curious look to the little girl. “Now, who do we have here?”
Kara rolls her eyes, when Karl puts on that proud dad look on his face that he gets whenever he has the chance to brag about his little girl-or even acknowledge the fact that he has procreated. “This is my daughter, Hera.”
“Hera,” he echoes before turning back to his hand. “Got a planet out here called Hera. That’s where Serenity Valley is, lost the last major battle of the Unification War in that valley.”
Helo turns to Kara, eyes wide, and not exactly sure what to do with this new piece of information. She shoots him back a shrug and a look that says hell if I know.
Mal’s voice has a forced cheerfulness when he backpedals. “Beautiful name for a little girl, though.”
“Um… thank you,” Helo says, brow furrowed.
Kara doesn’t bother to suppress a laugh this time. “Alright, Zoë. Bet’s to you.”
“Hey everyone, keep it down!” Skulls shouts. The rec room falls completely silent as he turns up the wireless once again.
Officially, we’re still waiting on ballots from the Zephyr and the Gideon but even combined, these votes won’t be enough to tip the scales. The citizens of the Colonies have made their choice clear…
======================
Quiet is not a word Lee typically would use to describe Galactica; even in the most desperate of times, there was always life here-you couldn’t turn a corner without running into officers going over paperwork, pilots jogging to keep up their stamina, or just your everyday, ordinary, run of the mill crisis. Now the hallways are filled with the echoes of his own footfalls.
It’s been a month since the fleet voted to settle in these solar systems. One month since the fleet slowly split itself in three-ships, citizens, representatives, soldiers-and drifted off, scattered among the stars. All that remained of the fleet now is Galactica, with only as many crew members as needed to make her sail on to her final destination-Seventh Circle. It’s a desolate moon, completely uninhabitable, circling a gas giant out in the Blue Sun system. According to Captain Reynolds, it’d be a good place to hide the ship; no one goes out there, so no one will find her.
Lee takes the corridors he knows so well, taken so many times over the past three years, up to CIC. Quiet there, too. Looking around he can see only a few officers; Gaeta, Dee, and Hoshi among them. The trio sitting together up in the communications center seems to be intently focused on something, but Lee cannot tell what from his position. Whatever it is, it’s incredibly last moment. There’s already a small pile of duffle bags by the door-Dee’s on the top-all packed and ready to go.
He turns his attention to his father, standing by command and control, staring up at the blank dradis readouts. His eyes look distant as they focus on the screens and, for a moment, Lee isn’t sure that his father has noticed him walking up alongside him.
It’s almost funny. He only came to this ship, under orders, to see it decommissioned. Three and a half years later and only now is that finally becoming a reality.
Three and a half years have taken a toll. His father looks older, aged by far more than the passage of time-but there’s something heavy and sad about him, something that very may well have been there the first day Lee came to Galactica. He supposes he wouldn’t have noticed it back then, not the way things were. It honestly feels like a lifetime ago.
“Dad,” he starts, and Adama shows no indication that he’s heard him. “Captain Reynolds says he’s about ready to start taking on passengers.” Still no response. “It… it’s time.”
It’s always been this way. His father loves this ship, his work, always has. Three and a half years ago it would’ve struck in him a bitterness, an angry pit that lived in him since his youth, left by his father’s absence. Now it strikes in him a pity, for an old man who seems to be facing a life with nothing to command, nothing to fight. Lee opens his mouth to start again, but is cut off.
“We all were sea-swallowed.” Lee raises a confused eyebrow. This was not the response he was expecting. Oblivious, his father continues. “Though some cast again, and by that destiny to perform an act whereof what’s past is prologue, what to come in yours and my discharge.”
He shakes his head, not understanding. “What-”
“Poetry. A play actually, from Earth That Was. The planet Dr. Tam recommended for Laura’s treatment was named for a character in it.” His hand taps a book resting on the table in front of him that Lee had not yet noticed. “I borrowed this from Captain Reynolds.”
“The man reads?” Lee scoffs. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“The passage talks about a shipwreck, a group of survivors, making the best of what they have using the lessons of the past to guide them.” He picks up the book, tucking it under his arm. “I thought it seemed… appropriate.”
Lee shoves his hands into his pocket. “So, how does the play end?”
“Not sure,” Adama says, turning to face him fully now. There is a deep loss reflected in his eyes, and Lee thinks that he truly does look shipwrecked. “I haven’t finished it yet. I suppose I’d imagined spending my retirement reading.”
“A planet like Ariel should have a libraries. Should keep you busy for a while.” He grins as his dad lets out a low chuckle.
The rumble of laughter fades away quickly as his father takes a look around the nearly empty CIC, and this time Lee’s gaze follows. Lee watches Dee, Gaeta, and Hoshi as they finish up whatever they’ve been working on and walk down to grab their bags by the door. Gaeta protests some as Hoshi grabs two bags, but he ignores him as the three disappear out into the corridor.
Now it’s just the two of them.
Lee’s left this place before, months ago when he left the military, but back then he knew that it would go on without him there. He can’t imagine how much worse it is for his dad-when the ship was supposed to be decommissioned she would have been a museum, she would have still gone on, but now when they leave, they’ll be leaving behind a shell.
Before Lee knows what he’s doing, he turns towards his father, his hands closing over his shoulders, the way he’s done so many times before. A simple gesture, but one he was sure the Old Man would understand. “She’s a good ship, Dad,” he says. “Got us through more than her fair share of fights, got us here. She served us well.”
“That she did.” His father’s voice broke a bit as he speaks, his eyes damp. He repeats solemnly, “That she did.”
Lee isn’t sure what to say now, isn’t sure that there really is anything left to say. So instead he asks, “Um, do you have everything packed?”
“Not quite,” he admitted, almost sounding guilty, like he’d been putting off an important task simply because he didn’t want to.
“Let’s go get the rest of it, then.” Lee pulls one hand away, but gives his father a gentle squeeze on the shoulder with the other before turning to leave.
They walk in silence back to the Admiral’s quarters, and Lee helps him get the last of his things packed up, and down to the hangar bay, where Serenity’s shuttles are transporting passengers to the Bug. Lee supposes it’s gracious of Mal to offer to take the last people from Galactica aboard and get them where they needed to go. The Captain had even arranged for the cargo bay to be used as a sleeping area. He’s not sure, though, why the man who seemed so cagy is now so willing to offer a helping hand.
But right now Lee isn’t going to question it. Right now he takes his own duffle and climbs aboard the shuttle. Stepping into the shuttle feels like stepping into a new world-it’s draped in silks and smells strongly of incense. Not an entirely inappropriate feeling, he thinks. Inara welcomes him, decorous as always, and invites him to make himself comfortable, but Lee finds that he is anything but. His father settles himself down on the long red couch, unbuttoning the jacket of his uniform as he looks around the shuttle’s interior.
When Inara leaves the main area, Lee follows her onto the bridge. He stares out the windscreen, taking one last look around the interior of the landing bay as the shuttle’s engines rumble to life and they leave Galactica for the last time.
To Chapter 4