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Big Bang Fic: Part One, BSG/Babylon Five, Wheel Turns
All disclaimers and other information can be found on the Prologue.
Prologue and Masterlist
Cylon. The knowledge of what Sam was still burned through Kara, in a strange mixture of anger, betrayal, and uncertainty. She had saved his life, had saved all of the Cylons from the airlock. But at what cost? Sam seemed to be unable to speak to her, but he couldn't stop watching her. Even during Lee's speech, and the joining of hands as they gained amnesty from their crimes, his eyes hadn't strayed. She didn't want to know what crimes, and she could only stare back at him, and wonder where to go next. After everything that had come before: the mandala, coming back as a probable Cylon, searching for Earth and finding a rebel faction of Cylons--Kara didn't know what to think. Still didn't know what to think, even as everyone around her was celebrating the finding of Earth. She had done it--they had done it. Earth wasn't just some dream for them to hunt anymore. We did it, kid, she thought again at Kat. There were other dead pilots, but Kat was the one she felt guiltiest about.
A part of her wanted to rip Sam's face off, to shout at him until she was hoarse. But there was no point to that, not when she wasn't sure herself what she was.
Kara knew the moment he stepped up to her in the memorial hall, the two of them the only islands of silence as everyone around them continued to cheer. She didn't want to turn and look at him, but she couldn't ignore him anymore.
"You knew," she said, the words low and devoid of emotion.
"I know, I'm sorry. Kara, I--" his voice cracked, as though he was fighting with himself, to try to explain, to say the right thing.
"Sam, I--I can't hear this. Not--"
She didn't get to finish her sentence, as the Galactica shuddered around them. Too many things happened at once, then: Dee's voice shouting over the comms, people lurching around them, panicking and screaming. Galactica shuddered again, as the proximity alarms began blaring, the sound too loud in their ears.
The corridor tilted crazily, candles and photos flying, the crates tumbling after them. Kara would have gone down if Sam hadn't grabbed her, pushing her into the wall and leaning into her to keep them both upright.
"Shit," Kara breathed as the corridor righted itself, though it still listed a little. "What the--"
"Move--" Sam cut her off, pulling her from the wall and shoving her towards the bulkhead that led to the hangar bays.
"Right, yes--" Sucking in a breath, Kara shouted to be heard over the sound of metal rending and sirens blaring, "Everyone to the hangar deck, now."
Keeping everyone moving wasn't hard, but keeping them from dissolving into chaos was. Kara stopped being pissed that Sam was helping her herd people when he got smacked into a wall, bouncing off with a curse. If she was going to get knocked around, so could he. She almost shot him a grin before she remembered she wasn't happy with him.
The anger gave her energy, though, and she kept them all moving as she struggled to pull her flight suit back on. There were procedures for evacuation, but Kara also had the feeling that there wasn't any time for procedures.
As if on cue, Dee's voice broke over the sirens, which shut off abruptly, "Attention, all hands abandon ship. This is not a drill. All hands abandon ship. Coordinates for rendezvous are already calculated, and most of the fleet is already away. All hands abandon ship."
Kara wondered how long Dee would stay at her post, and how long they had until the ship broke apart. From the feel of things, Galactica was being pounded by three or four baseships, and they weren't letting up.
The hangar deck was in utter chaos, the battlestar now rocking continuously as she took hit after hit. Kara left Sam at the top of the ladder to direct traffic there and slid down it, shouting for order as she landed. For a moment, the crowds almost seemed to calm for a moment. Then something exploded nearby, and people panicked even worse. Kara had to fight her way through the crowd to the raptors, where the Chief Laird was filling them as fast as he could.
"Chief! How're we doing?" Kara had to shout to be heard. It was strange to find Laird in charge, but in the mess with the Cylons, Tyrol had stepped down. Not that it mattered, Laird was competent, if distant.
She waited until he'd finished loading a raptor before grabbing his arm to get his report. "We're full-up Captain," Laird said, looking oddly calm, "Racetrack and Athena are on their way back from the rendezvous, but unless we magically sprout more raptors, there won't be enough time to evacuate everyone."
Just what she hadn't wanted to hear.
-=-
Gaius Baltar was praying when the world began to fall apart. Eyes opening in surprise and consternation, he caught a flash from the corner of his eye and a murmured, This is not good, before she was gone. Jeanne, who was holding his hand, gasped as the Galactica shuddered around them, sirens stirring to life and splitting the air.
"Thank you, God," Gaius managed to finish his prayer with some sort of flourish before he opened his eyes wide and smiled at everyone. "It appears that--"
He couldn't be heard over the sound of the ship convulsing again. Knick-knacks and candles went flying, and people jumped in apprehension and worry as they quickly put out the resulting fires. There were hazards to having lots of drapery around candles, but Gaius hadn't felt it worthy of himself to point it out.
"Something's wrong," it was Paulla, her gaze firm, her hand on his arm pulling him to his feet. "Can you contact CIC, Gaius?"
"Yes, the sirens, I rather thought there was," Gaius murmured. There was a communications unit down the hallway from their door. It got liberally splashed with graffiti every few days, and his people tried to keep it clean. Gaius had long-suspected some of the youngsters were doing it for sport, but at the moment, that didn't matter. When Paulla continued to look at him, he added, "I'm sure the Admiral will be delighted to let me know what's up."
As though they were on any sort of good terms at the moment. Still, sirens and the sound of Dualla's voice getting tinny with tension weren't good things.
Jeanne followed him into the corridor where he gave a polite nod to Roslin's sentries, who were mostly there to keep out desecrators. He'd been able to demand it, and Lee Adama had helped seal that bargain. They were looking a little nervous, and as the battlestar rocked again, he really didn't blame them.
"Should we be leaving, maybe?" Gaius asked one of them, "Faulty drives keeping us on the field of battle, that sort of thing?"
Neither of them answered, but he hadn't thought they would.
Getting through to CIC wasn't particularly easy. There were power surges and patches of static before Dualla was giving him crisp instructions to evacuate to the hangar deck.
Evacuate. Oh, God. Evacuate.
"Gaius." Jeanne's hand on his arm pulled him from his panicked thoughts, "Gaius, what did they say?"
"The ship. We're under attack--evacuate, they said to evacuate." In a daze, he took a step away from the sanctuary, towards the hangar deck.
"Our people, Gaius," Jeanne's hand pulled him to a stop, "We must warn them. Quickly."
There was no time to warn them, he wanted to argue. But she was pulling him along, shouting ahead at the marines. Chaos began to erupt, as Dualla's calm voice began blaring through the ship's intercom.
"All hands, abandon ship. I repeat, all hands, abandon ship. Make your way to designated areas and prepare to abandon ship."
The problem was, there hadn't been any ship-wide evacuation drills since long before Gaius had returned, and even if there had been, they wouldn't have done any good. The people panicked, and Gaius was among them, just as frightened, even if he did believe he had a card up his sleeve.
He kept watching as they stumbled and ran through the corridors, until he spotted her, his angel. She would save him, she had to.
On closer inspection, he found that it wasn't her, not his mysterious guardian. Perhaps something even better.
"Caprica--" he plunged through the crowd, almost knocking people over in his haste. Gaius caught at the Cylon's arm, speaking when she looked around at him, "You're alive."
"Yes," she replied calmly as they continued on, swept up in the crowd moving towards the hangar.
Gaius, attached to her now, had to almost run to keep up. He wondered a little at the way her hand was curved protectively over her middle, but didn't ask. Later, he could ask her later. If Caprica were alive, and so was he, then there would be a later.
God couldn't let him down like that.
-=-
CIC rocked again, and Dee found herself thrown free of her console just before it decided to explode. "Shit--" she ducked and rolled, landing behind one of the other consoles, bumping into Hoshi. "We should go!"
"I've almost--there!" He looked triumphant as he stabbed a finger at a key. "We're locked into a collision course with one of those things--I think."
One of those things. Dee almost laughed, but held back, feeling that being hysterical could wait. Those things were something they'd never seen before, moving too fast, and firing in a pattern that nothing stopped. Energy weapons, one of the others had reported, before the sensors on that side went down in a shower of sparks.
The mood had changed from joyful glee to panic and terror in the instant between the first dradis ping and the first shot had sent the Galactica into a lazy spin. She was glad to see that Adama and the President had already cleared CIC and headed down for a raptor. The battlestar was equipped with barely enough raptors for an evacuation, and Dee prayed as she and Hoshi started to make their way towards the hangar deck. Let them be enough. Please, Gods, let it be enough.
Time was, as always, the enemy.
It seemed too cruel for them to make it to Earth and then die on the threshold. It was the sort of thing a trickster God would do, but Dee had never believed in them.
Before the consoles had gone down, Dee had managed to get emergency jump coordinates to the fleet, including the basestar that was being pounded as badly as the Galactica. Dee wasn't sure if she hoped they made it or not, but they were allies, for the moment.
What was that saying about the enemy of my enemy?
She spared a brief thought for the ships that were attacking, wondering who they were, and then plunged down the corridor after Hoshi. They were the last, the rest having been ordered out before the Admiral; Felix had gone with protests, but understanding that he would slow them down if he tried to stay. She and Hoshi had only stayed to keep the guns firing at the ever-moving enemy targets, in an effort to provide the leaving raptors and fleet some sort of cover.
Now, the systems would have to run themselves.
-=-
Ambassador Londo Mollari lay in his bed on Babylon Five, and stared up at the ceiling. He was sleepless tonight, because he'd had a warning. A warning he'd ignored. Leave Babylon Five... And he hadn't, he'd stayed. More out of happenstance than real desire--or perhaps it had been caprice. After all, Mr. Morden had given the warning and Londo had stopped listening to the detestable man long ago.
The Shadows had come to Babylon Five, and then they had gone away again as abruptly as they'd arrived. They'd taken Mr. Garibaldi with them, and rumor had it that Captain Sheridan had perished at Z'Ha'Dum.
For himself, Londo wasn't certain what to think. He only knew that he had ignored one warning, and perhaps that was a good thing.
You will be emperor one day, he'd had his future read, and it had given him everything he'd ever wanted on a platter. It was just a pity that it was so hollow.
Around him, Babylon Five was going through its night shift, people sleeping. Some laughing, some loving, all of them fulfilling their lives in ways that only humans could--well, and aliens who weren't ambassadors with chips on their shoulders. Londo felt very alone, even as he knew that in some ways he had only himself to blame. He could have made an effort to love his wives, once. Even with only Timov left, he could have tried. But she would have smelt the lie as surely as he.
So perhaps being alone was just fine, for him.
He always had Vir, after all, despite Vir's revolutionary and peaceful tendencies.
Shifting, moving to get comfortable, Londo remonstrated with himself. Vir! He had Vir? Pah. He was becoming soft in his old age, and perhaps they should fit him for his coffin.
He would be emperor, he would stop Morden and his petty friends, he would restore his people to what they should be, and he would be fulfilled. He was certain of it.
Hadn't he always had the gift of seeing the shape of things to come?
Londo shoved a pillow off the bed and closed his eyes. There were much brighter futures to consider, like the bravari that he could order on homeworld that wouldn't have to go through tedious shipping processes just to reach him.
-=-
It had been a long time since she'd seen such chaos. Caprica felt a little as she had once, standing in Gaius Baltar's house, knowing the end was coming. She'd been in the market earlier that day, she'd walked among humanity, and watched them laugh and play. And in Gaius's house, she'd made her peace with Cavil's plan. Or so she'd thought. Waking again, knowing she'd loved him had changed that. It had guided her hands and feet as she joined with Boomer to put an end to the misguided destruction.
Cavil had objected harshly, and Caprica had felt that her heart could grow to love even him.
Humanity wasn't that much different from Cylon, for all the gibes about programming and machines. Caprica watched them falter and sometimes fail every day on New Caprica, and that experiment had been a failure from the beginning, as well.
You can learn, you can change, Gaius had sneered at her, more than once.
Maybe change didn't matter. Caught up in the near-panic of Gaius and his followers, Caprica thought maybe change wasn't as worth it as some thought. Someone stumbled into her, and she curved her arm protectively over her belly, and mocked herself for her own uncertainty.
"Up ahead, move--" One of the marines pulled her forward, thrusting her into the hangar deck and counting aloud as people spilled past him.
Gaius clutched at her arm, and his people followed them.
"There--" Caprica pushed through the crowd, wondering what Athena's reaction would be. They hadn't spoken in weeks, and Caprica didn't have to ask to know why. Athena was terrified of losing her place among the humans, and any show of weakness such as friendship towards another Cylon might prove to be enough. Caprica didn't think they cared about what she was, not in the end.
But she wasn't Athena, and she didn't move among the humans as one of them, either.
None of that mattered as she arrived at Athena's raptor, and half-smiled in greeting.
Athena's eyes widened at the sight of her, then darted past. Gaius, his people, all of them rated a fast glance. But the child one of them was carrying held her the longest. Then she blinked, and nodded, "Get on board. C'mon, people, move! Move! Move!"
Seven of them managed to join the already-crowded cargo area before Athena had to stop the exodus. She pulled the hatch down and locked it, then shouldered her way through to the cockpit.
Knowing how many were still out there, Caprica tried not to feel guilt for taking their place. She was alive, and so was the baby she was carrying. With that in mind, she braced herself for take-off and reached for Gaius' hand. He might not be the father of her child, but he was something like comfort in the face of yet more death.
-=-
Boomer went to visit Ellen Tigh on her own. She hated the Five, hated what they'd allowed to happen. And yet... she couldn't deny that they weren't that different from her. Nor that there was something inside of her that felt as though it were locked inside a cage.
And that something was sending her to Ellen, was beating at the bars.
It was a stupid metaphor, Boomer decided as she waved off the centurions and went inside, glad that Cavil trusted her.
Ellen was reclining in a chair, her gaze abstract.
For a moment, Boomer watched her. This woman had helped to create her. A mother who wasn't a lie, who wasn't a construct. Sometimes, Boomer wondered if remembering a childhood that had never happened was worse than not remembering one at all. She'd never bothered to ask her sisters what their views on the subject were. Odds were, they'd already shared her false memories, anyway.
"Do I have something on my face?" Ellen asked, her voice interrupting Boomer's contemplation.
Boomer blinked. "Why did you do it?"
For a moment, Ellen studied her, then she replied. "We wanted to change the outcome. We wanted to stop the war--and giving these Cylons resurrection and you seemed the best solution."
"You were wrong," Boomer said bluntly.
Ellen's mouth twisted and she looked Boomer in the eye, her voice sad. "You truly believe that, don't you. We wanted children, Boomer. What our children did..."
"You're still responsible." The stubborn response made Ellen smile a little, and Boomer scowled. "You gave us life, but not the answers, Ellen. We have--we had, so many questions. Why are we here, how do we overcome our frailties? How do we make ourselves better than humanity?"
"Is that what you truly want?" Amused, Ellen leaned forward and put her hand on Boomer's. "Really, my dear. You want to simply be better than humanity? That's a small wish. Why not try for something bigger: like becoming a supernova."
The mockery grated on Boomer's nerves, and she shoved Ellen's hand away. It was so patronizing. As though Ellen were talking to a child. Anger crawled up Boomer's spine, and she thought of punching her, shooting her, destroying her world. Of course, that had already happened. Some of her anger dissipated as fast as it had come. "I wouldn't mock the only person on this ship who might have sympathy for you."
"Oh yes?" Ellen leaned back in her chair, looking bored. "And what makes you think John will let you slip your leash?"
Somewhere down inside, Boomer wanted to laugh at that. Or to beg. For a moment, anger was at the forefront, and she stood up. "I'm done here. Until you can be less annoying."
"Not going to happen, my dear," Ellen called after her. "I am what I am, and so are you."
Boomer paused at the door. "I wish it would, Ellen. You're the only one here who might understand my confusion." She didn't turn around as she licked her lips, "How do you live with yourself?"
There was silence for a moment, perhaps Ellen was thinking of the most cutting answer she could find. Perhaps she didn't understand the question underneath Boomer's words.
Perhaps there was no answer.
"It helps that I don't have a mirror."
Boomer closed her eyes, then left Ellen behind. She didn't know what she'd accomplished, but there were no easy answers. She'd been fooling herself to believe there ever had been.
-=-
Too many people, and not enough time or ships. Kara and Sam reacted without needing to speak, splitting up to head into the crowd, shouting them into order. Women, children, families, first. Raptor after raptor was loaded, the pilot inside already wild-eyed with fear. Kara heard reports of raptors being targeted before they could jump and told her crews to jump the instant they were clear of the docking ramps. Galactica was a loss, the battlestar spinning listlessly as energy beams cut through her, stabbing through decks and severing plating in a kaleidescope of debris.
Human, Cylon, traitor, it didn't matter, in the chaos for survival against an unknown threat.
Laird grabbed her as she hurried past him, pulling her to a halt, "I have half-fixed raptors, Captain. We can jump them, but their guidance and telemetry systems are down."
"Structural integrity?" Kara demanded, letting him lead her towards the maintanence end of the bay.
"Some of them might explode when they try to jump." He sounded almost sarcastic. Then again, it wasn't like there was any choice. People were going to die with the battlestar if they didn't get off of it, now.
"Can you fly?"
He shook his head, "Not in my training, sir."
Kara glanced around, counting heads. Sam, Hot Dog, Seelix--and Dee, sliding down the aft ladder. "Five raptors, Chief."
"I've got four."
It was going to have to be enough, she could tell from the way Dee was moving, herding people in front of her. Another raptor returned, and Sam and Hot Dog loaded it without waiting. "Right. Longshot, Hot Dog, Hardball, Dualla, with me!"
How they heard her over the rending of metal, and the panic of the crowd, she didn't know, but they converged on her position, Sam making it there last after finishing his load. "I've got four raptors, Dee, I need you with me. Sam, Hot Dog, Seelix--get your birds in the air. Dee's got the coordinates."
The deck shook under their feet, and Kara would have fallen if Laird hadn't grabbed her arm. Seelix did fall, taking Hot Dog with her. They were back on their feet an instant later, as Laird pointed towards the raptors, shouting for his own crew to start running checklists.
A girder smashed into the deck near the aft end, and screams of panic tore from the crowd, "Chief, we don't have time."
"She's right--" Dee grabbed onto Laird, letting him anchor them both as the battlestar bucked, "She's coming apart. We need to--"
Whatever she'd been going to say was lost in the explosion of light that crumpled the aft section of the hangar. Air began whistling away, the sound high-pitched. Explosive decompression was imminent, and Kara shouted at everyone to move. She ran for one of the raptors, hoping it would be workable. Others joined her as she jumped on board and threw herself at the front of the cabin; Dee, Hoshi, Sam, Laird--Hot Dog and Seelix had made it to one of the others. Deck crew and refugees alike struggled to board, panic making them trample each other as the sound of the air escaping got worse.
The raptor shuddered, tossed up from the deck as the sides of the battlestar sheared apart, ripping in half in jagged edges. Kara didn't remember shouting, but someone dogged the hatch. Later, she would remember the eyes of the people who didn't make it on-board as they swirled past in the maelstrom of escaping air and violence.
But she didn't have time for it, pushing the images away as she ran cursory checks and got the engines online. "Dee, tell me you have navigational control."
"Maybe. I don't know--frak." The communications officer began cursing, a monotonous stream, muffled when she dropped to her knees and began yanking things out of the console. Something sparked, and Hoshi grabbed her, yanking her back before she could get fried.
"Dee, now would be a really good time," Kara suggested, after glancing back once. The raptor was moving, but sluggish. She wondered which one they'd lucked into. She dodged several corpses, spinning a little before she managed to fire the starboard jets.
"She's working on it," advised Sam, dropping into the co-pilot's chair and flicking switches. He checked the telemetry. "Longshot, Hardball, do you copy?"
"Copy, Longshot. We've got coordinates. See you at the rendezvous."
If Seelix had been within sight distance, she would have waved. As it was, Kara felt one side of her mouth pull up at the unshakable confidence in her pilots, then said, "Good hunting, Hardball."
There was no discernable sound to indicate the jump of the other raptor, but Kara felt a shiver travel up her spine. Alone. There was no one else, now, except the attackers and the wrecked hulk of the battlestar. "If we stay within the wreckage, they might not see us. Dee, you've got five minutes."
"Give me seven," the lieutenant snapped back, tension in her voice.
"Seven it is. Sam, I need you to watch for falling shit."
"Kara, there's no--shit--"
The raptor shuddered a little as she slipped it to one side, avoiding the deck planking that had suddenly broken off and careened their way. "Frak it, Sam, just follow your orders."
"Sir, yes, sir," he growled, but he moved, shifting to watch up through the windshield of the raptor. Kara didn't have to tell him twice or point out the inherent vulnerability. The raptor might survive an impact with falling objects, but it wasn't invulnerable. And a crack in the hull wasn't going to make any of them happy.
With his help, Kara managed to get them down under the bulk of the hangar deck, going through the huge gaping holes in the plating until they found open space. Kara stayed just inside the wreckage, keeping an eye on the dradis and space while Dee, Laird and Hoshi worked on the guidance console.
Something floated across Kara's field of vision, so black she thought it was an optical illusion until it twisted. She couldn't even begin to describe it later, but it tugged at something in the back of her mind. Whatever it was, felt cold, evil, like oil on water--Kara swore as light stabbed out from it, scything through the battlestar above them. "Dee!"
"Two seconds--got it!"
Kara swung the raptor into a spin, feeling how sluggish it was, and crossing her fingers, "Sam."
Reaching over, he slapped the jump button, and the raptor gave a heart-rending shriek and everything disappeared to be replaced by a planet. Kara had barely enough time to see that the skies were empty before the starboard jets fired without warning.
The raptor jerked around, Kara fighting it every inch of the way. She felt the gravity well catch them, and swore, "Everyone hang on, we're going in!"
It was luck that kept them from burning up in atmosphere as they fell through it at a bad angle. Kara had a brief impression of grey skies and white clouds and shining white ground before her attention became focused on the altitude readings and trying to hold them steady while avoiding things like snow-capped mountain peaks.
The wind grabbed them, tumbling them over and over as Laird finally succeeded in cutting off the flow to the misfiring jets. Kara whooped and kicked in the main engines, feeling the drag from gravity shove her back against the chair.
Some of the passengers were protesting, but she ignored them, snapping, "Longshot, find us a place to land--"
The engines sputtered and died, and they were in free-fall again, gravity overcoming the moment. Sam said something unintelligible and then he dropped down next to her, diving under her legs, invading her space. Kara would have objected, but she was fairly certain he'd mumbled about broken lines under the console. She didn't care, as long as he got it fixed.
"Captain!" Laird's hand grabbed onto her seat, "We've lost most of the stabilizers, it's going to be a bumpy landing."
"No shit--get everyone to hang on, Chief."
He disappeared and Sam returned, "You'll have ten seconds of thrusters, Kara. Make them count."
There was no time for her to ask how he knew about things like that, his ability with machines seemed logical, with him being a Cylon. But Kara hadn't ever asked him how he'd spent his time while she was dead. Perhaps she could ask after they were both dead.
"On my mark--" Kara kicked at the toggle, and the raptor lurched as she jumped them lower--almost too low-- "MARK."
Sam powered up the thrusters, slamming them all around as the engines bucked against the gravity hauling them downwards. The speed readings dropped steadily, but not fast enough. Kara got to the end of her count too soon, and the raptor shuddered again before their descent continued.
"Still need that landing site, Longshot."
"Should it have a nice, comfy mattress, Captain?"
Kara almost laughed, "Yes. I want to bounce a few times."
"I'm afraid we're out of luck, there's nothing to see out there but snow and rocks and mountains and--shit, that's a lake." Sam grabbed onto the seat, trying not to get thrown into the cargo area. "A frozen lake," he added, his tone appalled.
Kara spared a glance at it, and felt her mouth go dry. The adrenaline that had kicked in wasn't enough to numb the utter hopelessness of their situation: the lake was a sheet of ice, and there was no telling how thick it was. The area around it--the little she could see--was covered in snow. It could be rocks, trees, she couldn't tell for certain. Any hope of an easy landing was gone.
"Frak. That's where we're landing, whether we want to or not." Planting her feet, Kara pulled up, her arms burning against the strain of keeping the raptor level. If the nose dropped again, there would be no time to level off, and landing nose-first would probably see them all dead.
They managed to skim the ice, dragging against it, Sam grabbed onto the stick, helping her to attempt to keep them on a steady heading, trying to cut their speed while at the same time not go cart-wheeling across the frozen surface. Kara saw an out-cropping too late, and the raptor snagged on it, whipping around in an instant with a horrible, rending sound that felt like it was going to pull her bones apart.
Safety glass scattered over them as the windshield ruptured, cold air blasting inwards along with a smattering of ice and snow.
With one last screech of metal and an attempt to tumble, the ship came to an abrubt halt. Kara panted, her breath steaming white in the air. Damned good thing the atmosphere was breathable, she decided, as the taste of fresh, freezing, air stung her lungs.
"I have good news and bad news," Laird said, reappearing at the door to the cockpit. He looked out through the broken windshield, squinting against the glare.
Sam slowly released his hold on the stick and leaned into Kara's chair. He looked up at her, eyes unreadable. "Give us the bad news first."
"The temperature's already dropping, the raptor's hulled in at least a dozen places, and I'm pretty sure the engines are shot."
"And the good news?" asked Kara, absently reaching over and wiping the trail of blood from the side of Sam's face. She thought he must have cut himself while underneath the controls.
"The reason the engines cut out is there's no fuel left in them, so we won't explode."
Kara groaned and rubbed a hand over her face. "Dee, tell me you know where we are."
"I'm afraid not, Captain." Dee had a bruise coloring her cheek and her eyes were a little glassy. Kara guessed she'd been thrown around, and made a note to have someone keep an eye on her for concussion. "Nothing up there looked familiar, and this is definitely not the coordinates of the rendezvous."
"Yeah. I didn't see any other ships." Nudging Sam, Kara slowly unstrapped and stood up, "Let's get to work, people. We need to inventory what we've got. And then we're going to have to find somewhere to hole up."
"There were caves," Sam offered, absently pulling the arms of his flight suit on against the cold. "I caught a glimpse of them a little further up the mountains, but there have to be more in this area. At least, I think they were caves, and don't mountains and caves go hand in hand?"
"Do I look like a geologist?"
Rolling his eyes, Sam touched the side of his face, finding the cut and pressing his fingers to it.
Turning to the cargo area, Kara looked over the civilians and crew who'd managed to get on board. Her voice quieter, she asked, "Is anyone hurt?"
Hoshi shook his head, "Just bruises and cuts, sir." He glanced around, then looked at Dee, "Dualla took a nasty smack on the head, though. I'm worried about concussion."
"I'm fine," Dee replied, sounding annoyed. She looked at Kara, "The beacon is working, but the rest of the communications system went down when we hit the first time. With your permission, I'd like to go see how the antenna is."
"Once we know how long we'll live," was Kara's dry reply before she turned away to start testing systems in the cockpit, with Sam's help. It wasn't that she didn't trust Laird's assessment, but doing that was better than heading blindly out into the snow--besides, dradis might give them some sort of location on any nearby cave systems. As for Sam, he was a Cylon, but that was going to have to wait.
For now.
Part Two
Prologue and Masterlist
Cylon. The knowledge of what Sam was still burned through Kara, in a strange mixture of anger, betrayal, and uncertainty. She had saved his life, had saved all of the Cylons from the airlock. But at what cost? Sam seemed to be unable to speak to her, but he couldn't stop watching her. Even during Lee's speech, and the joining of hands as they gained amnesty from their crimes, his eyes hadn't strayed. She didn't want to know what crimes, and she could only stare back at him, and wonder where to go next. After everything that had come before: the mandala, coming back as a probable Cylon, searching for Earth and finding a rebel faction of Cylons--Kara didn't know what to think. Still didn't know what to think, even as everyone around her was celebrating the finding of Earth. She had done it--they had done it. Earth wasn't just some dream for them to hunt anymore. We did it, kid, she thought again at Kat. There were other dead pilots, but Kat was the one she felt guiltiest about.
A part of her wanted to rip Sam's face off, to shout at him until she was hoarse. But there was no point to that, not when she wasn't sure herself what she was.
Kara knew the moment he stepped up to her in the memorial hall, the two of them the only islands of silence as everyone around them continued to cheer. She didn't want to turn and look at him, but she couldn't ignore him anymore.
"You knew," she said, the words low and devoid of emotion.
"I know, I'm sorry. Kara, I--" his voice cracked, as though he was fighting with himself, to try to explain, to say the right thing.
"Sam, I--I can't hear this. Not--"
She didn't get to finish her sentence, as the Galactica shuddered around them. Too many things happened at once, then: Dee's voice shouting over the comms, people lurching around them, panicking and screaming. Galactica shuddered again, as the proximity alarms began blaring, the sound too loud in their ears.
The corridor tilted crazily, candles and photos flying, the crates tumbling after them. Kara would have gone down if Sam hadn't grabbed her, pushing her into the wall and leaning into her to keep them both upright.
"Shit," Kara breathed as the corridor righted itself, though it still listed a little. "What the--"
"Move--" Sam cut her off, pulling her from the wall and shoving her towards the bulkhead that led to the hangar bays.
"Right, yes--" Sucking in a breath, Kara shouted to be heard over the sound of metal rending and sirens blaring, "Everyone to the hangar deck, now."
Keeping everyone moving wasn't hard, but keeping them from dissolving into chaos was. Kara stopped being pissed that Sam was helping her herd people when he got smacked into a wall, bouncing off with a curse. If she was going to get knocked around, so could he. She almost shot him a grin before she remembered she wasn't happy with him.
The anger gave her energy, though, and she kept them all moving as she struggled to pull her flight suit back on. There were procedures for evacuation, but Kara also had the feeling that there wasn't any time for procedures.
As if on cue, Dee's voice broke over the sirens, which shut off abruptly, "Attention, all hands abandon ship. This is not a drill. All hands abandon ship. Coordinates for rendezvous are already calculated, and most of the fleet is already away. All hands abandon ship."
Kara wondered how long Dee would stay at her post, and how long they had until the ship broke apart. From the feel of things, Galactica was being pounded by three or four baseships, and they weren't letting up.
The hangar deck was in utter chaos, the battlestar now rocking continuously as she took hit after hit. Kara left Sam at the top of the ladder to direct traffic there and slid down it, shouting for order as she landed. For a moment, the crowds almost seemed to calm for a moment. Then something exploded nearby, and people panicked even worse. Kara had to fight her way through the crowd to the raptors, where the Chief Laird was filling them as fast as he could.
"Chief! How're we doing?" Kara had to shout to be heard. It was strange to find Laird in charge, but in the mess with the Cylons, Tyrol had stepped down. Not that it mattered, Laird was competent, if distant.
She waited until he'd finished loading a raptor before grabbing his arm to get his report. "We're full-up Captain," Laird said, looking oddly calm, "Racetrack and Athena are on their way back from the rendezvous, but unless we magically sprout more raptors, there won't be enough time to evacuate everyone."
Just what she hadn't wanted to hear.
-=-
Gaius Baltar was praying when the world began to fall apart. Eyes opening in surprise and consternation, he caught a flash from the corner of his eye and a murmured, This is not good, before she was gone. Jeanne, who was holding his hand, gasped as the Galactica shuddered around them, sirens stirring to life and splitting the air.
"Thank you, God," Gaius managed to finish his prayer with some sort of flourish before he opened his eyes wide and smiled at everyone. "It appears that--"
He couldn't be heard over the sound of the ship convulsing again. Knick-knacks and candles went flying, and people jumped in apprehension and worry as they quickly put out the resulting fires. There were hazards to having lots of drapery around candles, but Gaius hadn't felt it worthy of himself to point it out.
"Something's wrong," it was Paulla, her gaze firm, her hand on his arm pulling him to his feet. "Can you contact CIC, Gaius?"
"Yes, the sirens, I rather thought there was," Gaius murmured. There was a communications unit down the hallway from their door. It got liberally splashed with graffiti every few days, and his people tried to keep it clean. Gaius had long-suspected some of the youngsters were doing it for sport, but at the moment, that didn't matter. When Paulla continued to look at him, he added, "I'm sure the Admiral will be delighted to let me know what's up."
As though they were on any sort of good terms at the moment. Still, sirens and the sound of Dualla's voice getting tinny with tension weren't good things.
Jeanne followed him into the corridor where he gave a polite nod to Roslin's sentries, who were mostly there to keep out desecrators. He'd been able to demand it, and Lee Adama had helped seal that bargain. They were looking a little nervous, and as the battlestar rocked again, he really didn't blame them.
"Should we be leaving, maybe?" Gaius asked one of them, "Faulty drives keeping us on the field of battle, that sort of thing?"
Neither of them answered, but he hadn't thought they would.
Getting through to CIC wasn't particularly easy. There were power surges and patches of static before Dualla was giving him crisp instructions to evacuate to the hangar deck.
Evacuate. Oh, God. Evacuate.
"Gaius." Jeanne's hand on his arm pulled him from his panicked thoughts, "Gaius, what did they say?"
"The ship. We're under attack--evacuate, they said to evacuate." In a daze, he took a step away from the sanctuary, towards the hangar deck.
"Our people, Gaius," Jeanne's hand pulled him to a stop, "We must warn them. Quickly."
There was no time to warn them, he wanted to argue. But she was pulling him along, shouting ahead at the marines. Chaos began to erupt, as Dualla's calm voice began blaring through the ship's intercom.
"All hands, abandon ship. I repeat, all hands, abandon ship. Make your way to designated areas and prepare to abandon ship."
The problem was, there hadn't been any ship-wide evacuation drills since long before Gaius had returned, and even if there had been, they wouldn't have done any good. The people panicked, and Gaius was among them, just as frightened, even if he did believe he had a card up his sleeve.
He kept watching as they stumbled and ran through the corridors, until he spotted her, his angel. She would save him, she had to.
On closer inspection, he found that it wasn't her, not his mysterious guardian. Perhaps something even better.
"Caprica--" he plunged through the crowd, almost knocking people over in his haste. Gaius caught at the Cylon's arm, speaking when she looked around at him, "You're alive."
"Yes," she replied calmly as they continued on, swept up in the crowd moving towards the hangar.
Gaius, attached to her now, had to almost run to keep up. He wondered a little at the way her hand was curved protectively over her middle, but didn't ask. Later, he could ask her later. If Caprica were alive, and so was he, then there would be a later.
God couldn't let him down like that.
-=-
CIC rocked again, and Dee found herself thrown free of her console just before it decided to explode. "Shit--" she ducked and rolled, landing behind one of the other consoles, bumping into Hoshi. "We should go!"
"I've almost--there!" He looked triumphant as he stabbed a finger at a key. "We're locked into a collision course with one of those things--I think."
One of those things. Dee almost laughed, but held back, feeling that being hysterical could wait. Those things were something they'd never seen before, moving too fast, and firing in a pattern that nothing stopped. Energy weapons, one of the others had reported, before the sensors on that side went down in a shower of sparks.
The mood had changed from joyful glee to panic and terror in the instant between the first dradis ping and the first shot had sent the Galactica into a lazy spin. She was glad to see that Adama and the President had already cleared CIC and headed down for a raptor. The battlestar was equipped with barely enough raptors for an evacuation, and Dee prayed as she and Hoshi started to make their way towards the hangar deck. Let them be enough. Please, Gods, let it be enough.
Time was, as always, the enemy.
It seemed too cruel for them to make it to Earth and then die on the threshold. It was the sort of thing a trickster God would do, but Dee had never believed in them.
Before the consoles had gone down, Dee had managed to get emergency jump coordinates to the fleet, including the basestar that was being pounded as badly as the Galactica. Dee wasn't sure if she hoped they made it or not, but they were allies, for the moment.
What was that saying about the enemy of my enemy?
She spared a brief thought for the ships that were attacking, wondering who they were, and then plunged down the corridor after Hoshi. They were the last, the rest having been ordered out before the Admiral; Felix had gone with protests, but understanding that he would slow them down if he tried to stay. She and Hoshi had only stayed to keep the guns firing at the ever-moving enemy targets, in an effort to provide the leaving raptors and fleet some sort of cover.
Now, the systems would have to run themselves.
-=-
Ambassador Londo Mollari lay in his bed on Babylon Five, and stared up at the ceiling. He was sleepless tonight, because he'd had a warning. A warning he'd ignored. Leave Babylon Five... And he hadn't, he'd stayed. More out of happenstance than real desire--or perhaps it had been caprice. After all, Mr. Morden had given the warning and Londo had stopped listening to the detestable man long ago.
The Shadows had come to Babylon Five, and then they had gone away again as abruptly as they'd arrived. They'd taken Mr. Garibaldi with them, and rumor had it that Captain Sheridan had perished at Z'Ha'Dum.
For himself, Londo wasn't certain what to think. He only knew that he had ignored one warning, and perhaps that was a good thing.
You will be emperor one day, he'd had his future read, and it had given him everything he'd ever wanted on a platter. It was just a pity that it was so hollow.
Around him, Babylon Five was going through its night shift, people sleeping. Some laughing, some loving, all of them fulfilling their lives in ways that only humans could--well, and aliens who weren't ambassadors with chips on their shoulders. Londo felt very alone, even as he knew that in some ways he had only himself to blame. He could have made an effort to love his wives, once. Even with only Timov left, he could have tried. But she would have smelt the lie as surely as he.
So perhaps being alone was just fine, for him.
He always had Vir, after all, despite Vir's revolutionary and peaceful tendencies.
Shifting, moving to get comfortable, Londo remonstrated with himself. Vir! He had Vir? Pah. He was becoming soft in his old age, and perhaps they should fit him for his coffin.
He would be emperor, he would stop Morden and his petty friends, he would restore his people to what they should be, and he would be fulfilled. He was certain of it.
Hadn't he always had the gift of seeing the shape of things to come?
Londo shoved a pillow off the bed and closed his eyes. There were much brighter futures to consider, like the bravari that he could order on homeworld that wouldn't have to go through tedious shipping processes just to reach him.
-=-
It had been a long time since she'd seen such chaos. Caprica felt a little as she had once, standing in Gaius Baltar's house, knowing the end was coming. She'd been in the market earlier that day, she'd walked among humanity, and watched them laugh and play. And in Gaius's house, she'd made her peace with Cavil's plan. Or so she'd thought. Waking again, knowing she'd loved him had changed that. It had guided her hands and feet as she joined with Boomer to put an end to the misguided destruction.
Cavil had objected harshly, and Caprica had felt that her heart could grow to love even him.
Humanity wasn't that much different from Cylon, for all the gibes about programming and machines. Caprica watched them falter and sometimes fail every day on New Caprica, and that experiment had been a failure from the beginning, as well.
You can learn, you can change, Gaius had sneered at her, more than once.
Maybe change didn't matter. Caught up in the near-panic of Gaius and his followers, Caprica thought maybe change wasn't as worth it as some thought. Someone stumbled into her, and she curved her arm protectively over her belly, and mocked herself for her own uncertainty.
"Up ahead, move--" One of the marines pulled her forward, thrusting her into the hangar deck and counting aloud as people spilled past him.
Gaius clutched at her arm, and his people followed them.
"There--" Caprica pushed through the crowd, wondering what Athena's reaction would be. They hadn't spoken in weeks, and Caprica didn't have to ask to know why. Athena was terrified of losing her place among the humans, and any show of weakness such as friendship towards another Cylon might prove to be enough. Caprica didn't think they cared about what she was, not in the end.
But she wasn't Athena, and she didn't move among the humans as one of them, either.
None of that mattered as she arrived at Athena's raptor, and half-smiled in greeting.
Athena's eyes widened at the sight of her, then darted past. Gaius, his people, all of them rated a fast glance. But the child one of them was carrying held her the longest. Then she blinked, and nodded, "Get on board. C'mon, people, move! Move! Move!"
Seven of them managed to join the already-crowded cargo area before Athena had to stop the exodus. She pulled the hatch down and locked it, then shouldered her way through to the cockpit.
Knowing how many were still out there, Caprica tried not to feel guilt for taking their place. She was alive, and so was the baby she was carrying. With that in mind, she braced herself for take-off and reached for Gaius' hand. He might not be the father of her child, but he was something like comfort in the face of yet more death.
-=-
Boomer went to visit Ellen Tigh on her own. She hated the Five, hated what they'd allowed to happen. And yet... she couldn't deny that they weren't that different from her. Nor that there was something inside of her that felt as though it were locked inside a cage.
And that something was sending her to Ellen, was beating at the bars.
It was a stupid metaphor, Boomer decided as she waved off the centurions and went inside, glad that Cavil trusted her.
Ellen was reclining in a chair, her gaze abstract.
For a moment, Boomer watched her. This woman had helped to create her. A mother who wasn't a lie, who wasn't a construct. Sometimes, Boomer wondered if remembering a childhood that had never happened was worse than not remembering one at all. She'd never bothered to ask her sisters what their views on the subject were. Odds were, they'd already shared her false memories, anyway.
"Do I have something on my face?" Ellen asked, her voice interrupting Boomer's contemplation.
Boomer blinked. "Why did you do it?"
For a moment, Ellen studied her, then she replied. "We wanted to change the outcome. We wanted to stop the war--and giving these Cylons resurrection and you seemed the best solution."
"You were wrong," Boomer said bluntly.
Ellen's mouth twisted and she looked Boomer in the eye, her voice sad. "You truly believe that, don't you. We wanted children, Boomer. What our children did..."
"You're still responsible." The stubborn response made Ellen smile a little, and Boomer scowled. "You gave us life, but not the answers, Ellen. We have--we had, so many questions. Why are we here, how do we overcome our frailties? How do we make ourselves better than humanity?"
"Is that what you truly want?" Amused, Ellen leaned forward and put her hand on Boomer's. "Really, my dear. You want to simply be better than humanity? That's a small wish. Why not try for something bigger: like becoming a supernova."
The mockery grated on Boomer's nerves, and she shoved Ellen's hand away. It was so patronizing. As though Ellen were talking to a child. Anger crawled up Boomer's spine, and she thought of punching her, shooting her, destroying her world. Of course, that had already happened. Some of her anger dissipated as fast as it had come. "I wouldn't mock the only person on this ship who might have sympathy for you."
"Oh yes?" Ellen leaned back in her chair, looking bored. "And what makes you think John will let you slip your leash?"
Somewhere down inside, Boomer wanted to laugh at that. Or to beg. For a moment, anger was at the forefront, and she stood up. "I'm done here. Until you can be less annoying."
"Not going to happen, my dear," Ellen called after her. "I am what I am, and so are you."
Boomer paused at the door. "I wish it would, Ellen. You're the only one here who might understand my confusion." She didn't turn around as she licked her lips, "How do you live with yourself?"
There was silence for a moment, perhaps Ellen was thinking of the most cutting answer she could find. Perhaps she didn't understand the question underneath Boomer's words.
Perhaps there was no answer.
"It helps that I don't have a mirror."
Boomer closed her eyes, then left Ellen behind. She didn't know what she'd accomplished, but there were no easy answers. She'd been fooling herself to believe there ever had been.
-=-
Too many people, and not enough time or ships. Kara and Sam reacted without needing to speak, splitting up to head into the crowd, shouting them into order. Women, children, families, first. Raptor after raptor was loaded, the pilot inside already wild-eyed with fear. Kara heard reports of raptors being targeted before they could jump and told her crews to jump the instant they were clear of the docking ramps. Galactica was a loss, the battlestar spinning listlessly as energy beams cut through her, stabbing through decks and severing plating in a kaleidescope of debris.
Human, Cylon, traitor, it didn't matter, in the chaos for survival against an unknown threat.
Laird grabbed her as she hurried past him, pulling her to a halt, "I have half-fixed raptors, Captain. We can jump them, but their guidance and telemetry systems are down."
"Structural integrity?" Kara demanded, letting him lead her towards the maintanence end of the bay.
"Some of them might explode when they try to jump." He sounded almost sarcastic. Then again, it wasn't like there was any choice. People were going to die with the battlestar if they didn't get off of it, now.
"Can you fly?"
He shook his head, "Not in my training, sir."
Kara glanced around, counting heads. Sam, Hot Dog, Seelix--and Dee, sliding down the aft ladder. "Five raptors, Chief."
"I've got four."
It was going to have to be enough, she could tell from the way Dee was moving, herding people in front of her. Another raptor returned, and Sam and Hot Dog loaded it without waiting. "Right. Longshot, Hot Dog, Hardball, Dualla, with me!"
How they heard her over the rending of metal, and the panic of the crowd, she didn't know, but they converged on her position, Sam making it there last after finishing his load. "I've got four raptors, Dee, I need you with me. Sam, Hot Dog, Seelix--get your birds in the air. Dee's got the coordinates."
The deck shook under their feet, and Kara would have fallen if Laird hadn't grabbed her arm. Seelix did fall, taking Hot Dog with her. They were back on their feet an instant later, as Laird pointed towards the raptors, shouting for his own crew to start running checklists.
A girder smashed into the deck near the aft end, and screams of panic tore from the crowd, "Chief, we don't have time."
"She's right--" Dee grabbed onto Laird, letting him anchor them both as the battlestar bucked, "She's coming apart. We need to--"
Whatever she'd been going to say was lost in the explosion of light that crumpled the aft section of the hangar. Air began whistling away, the sound high-pitched. Explosive decompression was imminent, and Kara shouted at everyone to move. She ran for one of the raptors, hoping it would be workable. Others joined her as she jumped on board and threw herself at the front of the cabin; Dee, Hoshi, Sam, Laird--Hot Dog and Seelix had made it to one of the others. Deck crew and refugees alike struggled to board, panic making them trample each other as the sound of the air escaping got worse.
The raptor shuddered, tossed up from the deck as the sides of the battlestar sheared apart, ripping in half in jagged edges. Kara didn't remember shouting, but someone dogged the hatch. Later, she would remember the eyes of the people who didn't make it on-board as they swirled past in the maelstrom of escaping air and violence.
But she didn't have time for it, pushing the images away as she ran cursory checks and got the engines online. "Dee, tell me you have navigational control."
"Maybe. I don't know--frak." The communications officer began cursing, a monotonous stream, muffled when she dropped to her knees and began yanking things out of the console. Something sparked, and Hoshi grabbed her, yanking her back before she could get fried.
"Dee, now would be a really good time," Kara suggested, after glancing back once. The raptor was moving, but sluggish. She wondered which one they'd lucked into. She dodged several corpses, spinning a little before she managed to fire the starboard jets.
"She's working on it," advised Sam, dropping into the co-pilot's chair and flicking switches. He checked the telemetry. "Longshot, Hardball, do you copy?"
"Copy, Longshot. We've got coordinates. See you at the rendezvous."
If Seelix had been within sight distance, she would have waved. As it was, Kara felt one side of her mouth pull up at the unshakable confidence in her pilots, then said, "Good hunting, Hardball."
There was no discernable sound to indicate the jump of the other raptor, but Kara felt a shiver travel up her spine. Alone. There was no one else, now, except the attackers and the wrecked hulk of the battlestar. "If we stay within the wreckage, they might not see us. Dee, you've got five minutes."
"Give me seven," the lieutenant snapped back, tension in her voice.
"Seven it is. Sam, I need you to watch for falling shit."
"Kara, there's no--shit--"
The raptor shuddered a little as she slipped it to one side, avoiding the deck planking that had suddenly broken off and careened their way. "Frak it, Sam, just follow your orders."
"Sir, yes, sir," he growled, but he moved, shifting to watch up through the windshield of the raptor. Kara didn't have to tell him twice or point out the inherent vulnerability. The raptor might survive an impact with falling objects, but it wasn't invulnerable. And a crack in the hull wasn't going to make any of them happy.
With his help, Kara managed to get them down under the bulk of the hangar deck, going through the huge gaping holes in the plating until they found open space. Kara stayed just inside the wreckage, keeping an eye on the dradis and space while Dee, Laird and Hoshi worked on the guidance console.
Something floated across Kara's field of vision, so black she thought it was an optical illusion until it twisted. She couldn't even begin to describe it later, but it tugged at something in the back of her mind. Whatever it was, felt cold, evil, like oil on water--Kara swore as light stabbed out from it, scything through the battlestar above them. "Dee!"
"Two seconds--got it!"
Kara swung the raptor into a spin, feeling how sluggish it was, and crossing her fingers, "Sam."
Reaching over, he slapped the jump button, and the raptor gave a heart-rending shriek and everything disappeared to be replaced by a planet. Kara had barely enough time to see that the skies were empty before the starboard jets fired without warning.
The raptor jerked around, Kara fighting it every inch of the way. She felt the gravity well catch them, and swore, "Everyone hang on, we're going in!"
It was luck that kept them from burning up in atmosphere as they fell through it at a bad angle. Kara had a brief impression of grey skies and white clouds and shining white ground before her attention became focused on the altitude readings and trying to hold them steady while avoiding things like snow-capped mountain peaks.
The wind grabbed them, tumbling them over and over as Laird finally succeeded in cutting off the flow to the misfiring jets. Kara whooped and kicked in the main engines, feeling the drag from gravity shove her back against the chair.
Some of the passengers were protesting, but she ignored them, snapping, "Longshot, find us a place to land--"
The engines sputtered and died, and they were in free-fall again, gravity overcoming the moment. Sam said something unintelligible and then he dropped down next to her, diving under her legs, invading her space. Kara would have objected, but she was fairly certain he'd mumbled about broken lines under the console. She didn't care, as long as he got it fixed.
"Captain!" Laird's hand grabbed onto her seat, "We've lost most of the stabilizers, it's going to be a bumpy landing."
"No shit--get everyone to hang on, Chief."
He disappeared and Sam returned, "You'll have ten seconds of thrusters, Kara. Make them count."
There was no time for her to ask how he knew about things like that, his ability with machines seemed logical, with him being a Cylon. But Kara hadn't ever asked him how he'd spent his time while she was dead. Perhaps she could ask after they were both dead.
"On my mark--" Kara kicked at the toggle, and the raptor lurched as she jumped them lower--almost too low-- "MARK."
Sam powered up the thrusters, slamming them all around as the engines bucked against the gravity hauling them downwards. The speed readings dropped steadily, but not fast enough. Kara got to the end of her count too soon, and the raptor shuddered again before their descent continued.
"Still need that landing site, Longshot."
"Should it have a nice, comfy mattress, Captain?"
Kara almost laughed, "Yes. I want to bounce a few times."
"I'm afraid we're out of luck, there's nothing to see out there but snow and rocks and mountains and--shit, that's a lake." Sam grabbed onto the seat, trying not to get thrown into the cargo area. "A frozen lake," he added, his tone appalled.
Kara spared a glance at it, and felt her mouth go dry. The adrenaline that had kicked in wasn't enough to numb the utter hopelessness of their situation: the lake was a sheet of ice, and there was no telling how thick it was. The area around it--the little she could see--was covered in snow. It could be rocks, trees, she couldn't tell for certain. Any hope of an easy landing was gone.
"Frak. That's where we're landing, whether we want to or not." Planting her feet, Kara pulled up, her arms burning against the strain of keeping the raptor level. If the nose dropped again, there would be no time to level off, and landing nose-first would probably see them all dead.
They managed to skim the ice, dragging against it, Sam grabbed onto the stick, helping her to attempt to keep them on a steady heading, trying to cut their speed while at the same time not go cart-wheeling across the frozen surface. Kara saw an out-cropping too late, and the raptor snagged on it, whipping around in an instant with a horrible, rending sound that felt like it was going to pull her bones apart.
Safety glass scattered over them as the windshield ruptured, cold air blasting inwards along with a smattering of ice and snow.
With one last screech of metal and an attempt to tumble, the ship came to an abrubt halt. Kara panted, her breath steaming white in the air. Damned good thing the atmosphere was breathable, she decided, as the taste of fresh, freezing, air stung her lungs.
"I have good news and bad news," Laird said, reappearing at the door to the cockpit. He looked out through the broken windshield, squinting against the glare.
Sam slowly released his hold on the stick and leaned into Kara's chair. He looked up at her, eyes unreadable. "Give us the bad news first."
"The temperature's already dropping, the raptor's hulled in at least a dozen places, and I'm pretty sure the engines are shot."
"And the good news?" asked Kara, absently reaching over and wiping the trail of blood from the side of Sam's face. She thought he must have cut himself while underneath the controls.
"The reason the engines cut out is there's no fuel left in them, so we won't explode."
Kara groaned and rubbed a hand over her face. "Dee, tell me you know where we are."
"I'm afraid not, Captain." Dee had a bruise coloring her cheek and her eyes were a little glassy. Kara guessed she'd been thrown around, and made a note to have someone keep an eye on her for concussion. "Nothing up there looked familiar, and this is definitely not the coordinates of the rendezvous."
"Yeah. I didn't see any other ships." Nudging Sam, Kara slowly unstrapped and stood up, "Let's get to work, people. We need to inventory what we've got. And then we're going to have to find somewhere to hole up."
"There were caves," Sam offered, absently pulling the arms of his flight suit on against the cold. "I caught a glimpse of them a little further up the mountains, but there have to be more in this area. At least, I think they were caves, and don't mountains and caves go hand in hand?"
"Do I look like a geologist?"
Rolling his eyes, Sam touched the side of his face, finding the cut and pressing his fingers to it.
Turning to the cargo area, Kara looked over the civilians and crew who'd managed to get on board. Her voice quieter, she asked, "Is anyone hurt?"
Hoshi shook his head, "Just bruises and cuts, sir." He glanced around, then looked at Dee, "Dualla took a nasty smack on the head, though. I'm worried about concussion."
"I'm fine," Dee replied, sounding annoyed. She looked at Kara, "The beacon is working, but the rest of the communications system went down when we hit the first time. With your permission, I'd like to go see how the antenna is."
"Once we know how long we'll live," was Kara's dry reply before she turned away to start testing systems in the cockpit, with Sam's help. It wasn't that she didn't trust Laird's assessment, but doing that was better than heading blindly out into the snow--besides, dradis might give them some sort of location on any nearby cave systems. As for Sam, he was a Cylon, but that was going to have to wait.
For now.
Part Two
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I admit, I've never watched Babylon 5, so I am fully expecting to get lost coming up, but I'm intrigued so far!
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As for Galactica, I'd toyed with the idea of destroying it before, but it really IS all they have, and so I sort of had the idea lurking around that if she was destroyed, there had to be something else to keep the fleet together. (I suppose a pandemic might've worked, too)
*uses her only Dee icon*
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