FIC: With Full Honors (2/3)
Chapter Two:
Laura walked with her guards to the Galactica galley. Tory had arranged for her to sample the first algae brought up from the planet and prepared by the ship’s chef for a broadcast to the fleet. That girl was always thinking of the poll numbers.
Laura glanced down the Memorial Walls’ corridor as she passed and noticed Kara and Lee there. She motioned her guards to stand back and she joined the young couple. She saw a new photo on the wall by Kara, the Viper pilot who’d recently died during their passage through the star cluster.
She said, “The funeral is tomorrow, right?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Lee said stiffly. “Now that we’re at the algae planet, we’re going to send Kat’s casket into its ring’s orbit.” He looked at the photograph. “She’ll have a home world; not just float in space. Better than most of them.”
Laura said, “That does sound nice. As close to being in the ground as we can get, I guess.”
Lee nodded, and then shook his head as though clearing his mind. He said, “I’m due in the ready room,” and marched away before Laura could reply.
Laura watched his stiff back retreating. “He doesn’t need to worry, you know,” she said, not sure if she meant that for Kara, Lee, or herself.
“He worries; that’s what he does,” said Starbuck.
Laura looked at the young woman, really looked at her, unaccustomed to seeing her in a pressed uniform with her hair tidy and got a level gaze back. She realized that she had expected the girl to be the possessive one, afraid of losing Daddy, but it goes to show, you can never tell.
She looked at the picture of Kat now tucked among the others. “This is a great loss--“
“Yeah, that’s what everyone says,” Kara said, rudely cutting her off.
“Yes, it’s the loss of a very good pilot. We need all of those that we can get,” Laura said, ignoring the girl’s attitude. She had vaguely heard that the two pilots were rivals, and she understood that could lead to the worse kind of guilt.
Starbuck dropped her obstinate chin, and nodded.
Kat’s forms had come across Laura’s desk, as forms from Bill’s office did nearly every day, needing one last signature from the president. Sometimes it was promotions and awards, but too often, it was the paperwork associated with a death. Louanne Katrine’s had been different, a promotion, then the usual letter acclaiming her service and sacrifice that would end up in a file cabinet if there was no family.
She’d been puzzled enough to ask about the promotion, thinking perhaps there was a need for family benefits. Tory had stared back at her; she knew nothing about the military.
When Dee came over to deliver more paperwork, Laura had asked her about the circumstances.
The young woman looked pained. “She...she was a special one, Ma’am. Kat was our CAG while you all were on New Caprica. She served well. The Admiral wanted to reward her bravery and sacrifice by returning her to that rank for the day. He was with her as she lay dying--“
“Really?” said Laura sharply.
Not catching Laura’s reaction, Dee smiled. “Yes, Ma’am. He was very attached to Kat; you know how he is.”
“Yes, I’m aware of his closeness with his crew,” said Laura dryly. She asked, “How did she die, Dee?”
“She had radiation poisoning.”
“I thought the pilots were going to be monitored for exposure,” said Laura, frowning. She did not like unnecessary waste.
“They were, but she apparently exchanged her badge for another pilot’s so that she could keep flying.”
“Gods,” breathed Laura, her hand tightening around her pen. “Gods damn these kids.”
Puzzled, Dee cocked her head.
Laura said, “They take these risks when we need them alive, in the cockpit, not being shot out the airlock in a coffin.”
Dee pressed her lips together. “Yes, Ma’am.”
Laura had remembered that Lee was a pilot too, and had apologized before dismissing Dee.
Scanning the photos around Kat’s, Laura asked, “Does she leave anyone; will we have anyone to give the flag to?” as she tried to remember a few names, chastising herself for the forgotten ones, noticing how frakking young everyone looked. We can’t keep losing the young ones; the breeders.
Kara snorted. “There’s some creepy drug dealer and pimp who seems to be her last remaining connection to our old life. Maybe he’ll show up.”
“What do you mean?” Laura asked.
The girl turned away. “Nothin--“
Laura grabbed her arm. “Frak that,” she insisted. “What do you mean?”
“She’d lied her way into the service.” Kara’s chin went back up. “She’d been a pilot in her old life all right; as a drug runner.”
Laura let go of her arm. She shrugged. “So that meant she was fearless, and stupid enough to do that crazy work you do.”
Kara gaped at her.
“We need everyone, Kara. I’d think that you’d be the first one to realize that, and the last person to be moralizing,” said Laura, back examining the photographs. “Why don’t we leave that to Lee, along with the worrying?”
She felt rather than heard, bitch, and smiled to herself as the girl stormed away. Yes, Mommy could be a real bitch sometimes all right.
Looking at Kat’s picture again, her proud stance, Laura remembered watching the young woman box at the dance, how she’s been able to throw a really good combination when she’s needed the knockout.
“You Gods damn kids,” she muttered again, pressing two fingers hard on the push pin to makes sure that the picture would stay in place.
“Madam President!” came Tory’s insistent bleat from the end of the corridor, and Laura obediently followed.
Cookie was a large man, and Laura found herself looking at his girth and wondering if an audit of the galley’s inventory was in order.
He smiled at her warmly, and at the battery of media cameras nervously. “Madam President, it’s an honor,” he boomed.
“Thank you for inviting me, Lieutenant,” she parroted back, smiling at the cameras. “I’m so excited to see what you’ve been able to do with our first sampling of planetary algae.”
Confident in his topic, Cookie became a bit less stiff. His great paw pulled her over to the stainless steel table, where several dishes were laid out, all with various sized blobs of green matter on them. She fought against the frown she felt furrowing her brow.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bill enter the kitchen, and lean against the far bulkhead, arms crossed, small smile shadowing his lips. She squinted at him.
Cookie said, “My first creation duplicates the lightness and texture of an omelet.” He lifted the fork with its lump of oozing green ‘fluff’ on it.
Laura obediently opened her mouth, and forced herself not to close her eyes. The bite dissolved on her tongue and she gulped down the slime that remained. Smiling for the camera, she said, “Yes, just like an omelet.” Across the room full of people, she heard Bill snort.
She cried out, “Admiral Adama has joined us! Won’t you come up and take a taste yourself?”
The cameras turned to focus on Bill and his eyes glinted at her through his glasses. She quickly gulped some water while the cameras were not on her.
Bill stalked up to join her, and she smiled at him sweetly. She asked, “What do you have for the Admiral to try, Cookie?”
Sweat beading on his large forehead, Cookie looked over his offerings. “How about the veggie loaf? It’s like meat loaf, only much lighter of course, but with twice the protein of conventional meat-based pates.”
“Sounds yummy,” she said, grinning at Bill.
He said, “Sounds great, Cookie. Give me a bite,” while boring a hole in her with his glare. Now that he was closer, she could see how sad his gaze was, but she couldn’t retreat with all the eyes on them.
“Which one is the loaf?” Laura said, fork poised over the plates.
“This one,” Cookie said, lifting the plate with the largest blob on it.
Laura managed to get some on her fork, thinking a spoon may have been better, and told Bill, “Open wide.”
He did not, only opening his mouth to a slit, and then snapping shut on the fork like a turtle. She tugged it free, and algae smeared on his lower lip.
She chastised him in a low voice, “You made a mess.” Before she thought about it, she wiped his chin clean with her fingertip, and licked the algae off her finger.
“That is delicious,” she told Cookie, then noticed that he was gaping at her and the Admiral. She could barely control a hysterical giggle. Here they were, taking a break, and yet the rumor mill would be going full bore. Tory’s cold stare came from one side of the room; Bill’s worried eyes were next to her.
Laura looked over the plates. “So what’s for desert?” she asked.
Regaining his composure, Cookie said, “Baked Algae flambé,” flicking his lighter with relish.
End (2/3) Chapter Three>>>
Laura walked with her guards to the Galactica galley. Tory had arranged for her to sample the first algae brought up from the planet and prepared by the ship’s chef for a broadcast to the fleet. That girl was always thinking of the poll numbers.
Laura glanced down the Memorial Walls’ corridor as she passed and noticed Kara and Lee there. She motioned her guards to stand back and she joined the young couple. She saw a new photo on the wall by Kara, the Viper pilot who’d recently died during their passage through the star cluster.
She said, “The funeral is tomorrow, right?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Lee said stiffly. “Now that we’re at the algae planet, we’re going to send Kat’s casket into its ring’s orbit.” He looked at the photograph. “She’ll have a home world; not just float in space. Better than most of them.”
Laura said, “That does sound nice. As close to being in the ground as we can get, I guess.”
Lee nodded, and then shook his head as though clearing his mind. He said, “I’m due in the ready room,” and marched away before Laura could reply.
Laura watched his stiff back retreating. “He doesn’t need to worry, you know,” she said, not sure if she meant that for Kara, Lee, or herself.
“He worries; that’s what he does,” said Starbuck.
Laura looked at the young woman, really looked at her, unaccustomed to seeing her in a pressed uniform with her hair tidy and got a level gaze back. She realized that she had expected the girl to be the possessive one, afraid of losing Daddy, but it goes to show, you can never tell.
She looked at the picture of Kat now tucked among the others. “This is a great loss--“
“Yeah, that’s what everyone says,” Kara said, rudely cutting her off.
“Yes, it’s the loss of a very good pilot. We need all of those that we can get,” Laura said, ignoring the girl’s attitude. She had vaguely heard that the two pilots were rivals, and she understood that could lead to the worse kind of guilt.
Starbuck dropped her obstinate chin, and nodded.
Kat’s forms had come across Laura’s desk, as forms from Bill’s office did nearly every day, needing one last signature from the president. Sometimes it was promotions and awards, but too often, it was the paperwork associated with a death. Louanne Katrine’s had been different, a promotion, then the usual letter acclaiming her service and sacrifice that would end up in a file cabinet if there was no family.
She’d been puzzled enough to ask about the promotion, thinking perhaps there was a need for family benefits. Tory had stared back at her; she knew nothing about the military.
When Dee came over to deliver more paperwork, Laura had asked her about the circumstances.
The young woman looked pained. “She...she was a special one, Ma’am. Kat was our CAG while you all were on New Caprica. She served well. The Admiral wanted to reward her bravery and sacrifice by returning her to that rank for the day. He was with her as she lay dying--“
“Really?” said Laura sharply.
Not catching Laura’s reaction, Dee smiled. “Yes, Ma’am. He was very attached to Kat; you know how he is.”
“Yes, I’m aware of his closeness with his crew,” said Laura dryly. She asked, “How did she die, Dee?”
“She had radiation poisoning.”
“I thought the pilots were going to be monitored for exposure,” said Laura, frowning. She did not like unnecessary waste.
“They were, but she apparently exchanged her badge for another pilot’s so that she could keep flying.”
“Gods,” breathed Laura, her hand tightening around her pen. “Gods damn these kids.”
Puzzled, Dee cocked her head.
Laura said, “They take these risks when we need them alive, in the cockpit, not being shot out the airlock in a coffin.”
Dee pressed her lips together. “Yes, Ma’am.”
Laura had remembered that Lee was a pilot too, and had apologized before dismissing Dee.
Scanning the photos around Kat’s, Laura asked, “Does she leave anyone; will we have anyone to give the flag to?” as she tried to remember a few names, chastising herself for the forgotten ones, noticing how frakking young everyone looked. We can’t keep losing the young ones; the breeders.
Kara snorted. “There’s some creepy drug dealer and pimp who seems to be her last remaining connection to our old life. Maybe he’ll show up.”
“What do you mean?” Laura asked.
The girl turned away. “Nothin--“
Laura grabbed her arm. “Frak that,” she insisted. “What do you mean?”
“She’d lied her way into the service.” Kara’s chin went back up. “She’d been a pilot in her old life all right; as a drug runner.”
Laura let go of her arm. She shrugged. “So that meant she was fearless, and stupid enough to do that crazy work you do.”
Kara gaped at her.
“We need everyone, Kara. I’d think that you’d be the first one to realize that, and the last person to be moralizing,” said Laura, back examining the photographs. “Why don’t we leave that to Lee, along with the worrying?”
She felt rather than heard, bitch, and smiled to herself as the girl stormed away. Yes, Mommy could be a real bitch sometimes all right.
Looking at Kat’s picture again, her proud stance, Laura remembered watching the young woman box at the dance, how she’s been able to throw a really good combination when she’s needed the knockout.
“You Gods damn kids,” she muttered again, pressing two fingers hard on the push pin to makes sure that the picture would stay in place.
“Madam President!” came Tory’s insistent bleat from the end of the corridor, and Laura obediently followed.
Cookie was a large man, and Laura found herself looking at his girth and wondering if an audit of the galley’s inventory was in order.
He smiled at her warmly, and at the battery of media cameras nervously. “Madam President, it’s an honor,” he boomed.
“Thank you for inviting me, Lieutenant,” she parroted back, smiling at the cameras. “I’m so excited to see what you’ve been able to do with our first sampling of planetary algae.”
Confident in his topic, Cookie became a bit less stiff. His great paw pulled her over to the stainless steel table, where several dishes were laid out, all with various sized blobs of green matter on them. She fought against the frown she felt furrowing her brow.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bill enter the kitchen, and lean against the far bulkhead, arms crossed, small smile shadowing his lips. She squinted at him.
Cookie said, “My first creation duplicates the lightness and texture of an omelet.” He lifted the fork with its lump of oozing green ‘fluff’ on it.
Laura obediently opened her mouth, and forced herself not to close her eyes. The bite dissolved on her tongue and she gulped down the slime that remained. Smiling for the camera, she said, “Yes, just like an omelet.” Across the room full of people, she heard Bill snort.
She cried out, “Admiral Adama has joined us! Won’t you come up and take a taste yourself?”
The cameras turned to focus on Bill and his eyes glinted at her through his glasses. She quickly gulped some water while the cameras were not on her.
Bill stalked up to join her, and she smiled at him sweetly. She asked, “What do you have for the Admiral to try, Cookie?”
Sweat beading on his large forehead, Cookie looked over his offerings. “How about the veggie loaf? It’s like meat loaf, only much lighter of course, but with twice the protein of conventional meat-based pates.”
“Sounds yummy,” she said, grinning at Bill.
He said, “Sounds great, Cookie. Give me a bite,” while boring a hole in her with his glare. Now that he was closer, she could see how sad his gaze was, but she couldn’t retreat with all the eyes on them.
“Which one is the loaf?” Laura said, fork poised over the plates.
“This one,” Cookie said, lifting the plate with the largest blob on it.
Laura managed to get some on her fork, thinking a spoon may have been better, and told Bill, “Open wide.”
He did not, only opening his mouth to a slit, and then snapping shut on the fork like a turtle. She tugged it free, and algae smeared on his lower lip.
She chastised him in a low voice, “You made a mess.” Before she thought about it, she wiped his chin clean with her fingertip, and licked the algae off her finger.
“That is delicious,” she told Cookie, then noticed that he was gaping at her and the Admiral. She could barely control a hysterical giggle. Here they were, taking a break, and yet the rumor mill would be going full bore. Tory’s cold stare came from one side of the room; Bill’s worried eyes were next to her.
Laura looked over the plates. “So what’s for desert?” she asked.
Regaining his composure, Cookie said, “Baked Algae flambé,” flicking his lighter with relish.
End (2/3) Chapter Three>>>