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Entry tags:
wtf. Fic: the rest of it, hopefully.
See previous post for disclaimers and such.
-=-
Adama picked up the phone, "Madame President, I apologize for keeping you waiting, but this situation seems to be spiraling out of control."
"Yes." She sounded odd, "Admiral, I don't mean to overburden you, but a package was just received on Colonial One. It was delivered by Lt. Val--Agathon."
He frowned, "That's odd, Lieutenant Agathon is under orders not to leave this ship."
"No, what's odd is that your Captain Paladino is apparently sick."
Paladino was down sick, and no one had mentioned it? And the president had mentioned something. A package? "Not a bomb?"
"No. It's a little more grisly, Admiral. Charlie Connors' head."
She always did tend to cut to the chase when things were serious. It took him a moment to process. Then, "What?"
"Exactly what it sounds like, Admiral." She sounded impatient now. "I received a gift to prove this group is quite serious in their aims."
"I'll have Paladino investigated. I'll also find out who last talked to Charlie Connors, and where he might have been."
"You do that."
They were both silent a moment before he finally admitted, "Starbuck and Anders are indeed missing."
"Damn."
He knew that was the only thing she would say in anger.
"Admiral, I'm going to hang onto Lieutenant Agathon for now. She'll be of use over here. I'll also have Tory look into things, see if she can't get a bead on whether the press has any information."
"You do that," his mind was already going through things they needed to do before he continued, "I'll organize things over here."
"Good luck, Admiral."
-=-
Brother Marlon looked up as Karen entered the room he'd appropriated as an office. "I trust you left them both alive."
She jerked slightly and ducked her head. "I did."
Curious. Perhaps she had a guilty conscience. He smiled at her, "Very good, Karen, very good. Now, my source inside tells me that both messages have been received."
Her head came up again, and the banked anger in her eyes made him smile more. "I enjoyed it, you know."
Really, if there was one thing about her that he'd started to dislike, it was this obsession. But it was a useful obsession. "I thought you might. Are you ready for the next stage?"
"Certainly. You know he'll never cut a deal with the cylons."
"Just as I know that he regards Captain Thrace as a daughter." Marlon frowned thoughtfully. "I think we may have to try for something rather larger."
"A roomful of hostages wouldn't sway him."
No, regrettably, Sacia Abinell's failed attempt had proved that. Even the life of his own son hadn't been incentive enough to deal with what he considered terrorists. Still, if their second and third moves came off successfully, Admiral Adama might indeed have to negotiate.
-=-
"Chief!" Seelix shoved through the crowd of marines. She looked a little pale, "Chief, I think, I think I found Charlie."
"You think?" Trying to figure out what the hell Charlie had to do with the two missing people, he shook his head. "Seelix, that's great, but I don't have time for this."
"I can't tell because he's missing his frakking head!"
The entire group fell silent. Tyrol stared at her, "What did you just say?"
"You heard me." She shifted, eyeing them all. "I was looking for him, I'd gotten worried. And then I... You need to see, Chief. And we need to inform the Admiral that there's a murderer on board."
"Did you leave the body where you found it?"
"Yeah. I left Barolay watching it from down the corridor." Seelix looked uncertain. "I didn't think I should leave it alone, y'know?"
Right. Dead body. Right. He could deal with this. Chief moved to the phone on the wall and snapped into it, "I need to speak to the Admiral. Now."
The comm officer on the other end of the line said, pleasantly, "Just a moment, sir."
It was times like this that Galen missed Dee being on the board. Dee would have asked him what the problem was. Dee would have cared. Or maybe she would have chattered at him until the Old Man picked up.
-=-
Kara shifted her weight in the chair, trying to wake the nerves in her legs. They felt numb and dead. And her ass wasn't doing too good, either. Her shoulders had stopped registering the strain sometime after Sam had fallen asleep again (at least, she hoped he was asleep and not just passed out). It had occurred to her that maybe she should have kept him awake--wasn't that what you were supposed to do for concussion victims?
Maybe. She'd never been very good at the first aid courses--at least not past the "tie this, splint that" shit.
When they got out of here, though, she was going to kick his ass.
Even if it was a really nice ass.
She scowled, shoving the thought away. She'd dumped him and walked away, and he'd given her back the dog tag. Yeah, they both still had really ugly tattoos, and somewhere, her marriage was recorded on paper. But paper wasn't really something she'd paid much attention to, anyway.
And it really boiled down to one thing: he hadn't wanted to deal with her when she wasn't Starbuck. He'd finally seen what was under the facade and he'd run. Like any smart man should.
Shoving that thought to join the rest, she gritted her teeth and shifted in the chair, wondering if she could find enough give in the cables to get herself free. Or even just get to the god-damn knife strapped to her leg.
Really, when she got free, they were going to find out exactly how much she hated being stuck with nothing to do.
And possibly, Karen would find herself with broken ribs for what she'd done to Sam.
Kara figured it was only logical. After all, the woman was a fruitcake.
-=-
"Sir!"
Brother Marlon looked up as one of the men he'd assigned to watch CIC from a distance burst in. He was a civilian named Jared, and he'd seemed fairly useful. He liked to watch. "What is it?"
"They've found Connors' body, sir." The man jiggled from foot to foot. "And Admiral Adama is going down to view it. Looks like they've got about two marines with him, sir. We're not going to have a better chance."
Damn. He'd known they'd gound the body, but not the latter information. This would be the perfect opportunity for step four. Marlon frowned, considering. Then he nodded. "Take four men and see to it. He should fight, I imagine he's a man who values his life. If he does, try not to injure him too badly."
Jared nodded, grinning, "Yes, sir."
-=-
"Give me good news." Laura said as Tory stepped back into her office. From her seat, Sharon shifted a little straighter, unconsciously coming to attention.
Tory looked between them, "Madame President, I'm afraid I can't. The extremist group released a manifesto to the press, detailing their demands." She paused, then continued, "They're claiming the capture of Captain Thrace, Samuel Anders, and Admiral Adama."
"What?" Sharon was on her feet, "That can't be true--Madame President, if there's a threat to the Admiral, you have to warn him."
"I know, Lieutenant. Tory, get me the Admiral, now."
Tory shook her head, "I tried, they paged him, and he hasn't responded."
Shit. Laura could think that, in the privacy of her own brain. "Then get me the XO of Galactica. And see if you can't get the press to find a few survivors of the cylons' internment facilities. Get some people talking about the things they endured."
"On it."
"Gods..." Sharon sank back into her chair. "This is a nightmare."
"I know, Lieutenant."
-=-
The two marines Helo had detailed to go with him hadn't even stood a chance. Admiral Adama stared down at their corpses and cursed mentally. Five men in masks surrounded him. Obviously, the terrorists were upping the stakes.
"Come with us peaceably, or we kill you now."
He looked at the man, "Then kill me now."
Really, the thug had to be stupid to think he'd go with them, and if he was going to offer stupid ultimatums, Adama was going to call his bluff.
The man gestured impatiently, and he tensed, ducking under the blow that would have slammed into the back of his head. There was a curse from his assailants and then two of them launched themselves from either side. Adama wondered if they were just stupid or over-eager as he stepped back, letting them hit each other. Arms wrapped around him from behind, the forearm dragging tight across his throat, cutting off his air.
Incongruously, he noticed that the man had had onions at some point in the last day.
Unfortunately, before he could break the hold one of the others used the butt of his gun to cold-cock him.
It was enough to disorient him and they dragged him through several corridors before yanking open a hatch and shoving him into a storage room. Adama wasn't sure he knew exactly where they'd left him--the slamming had told him he wouldn't be getting out that way easily.
Leaning against the wall, he rubbed at his neck.
"Don't suppose you've got a knife handy, sir."
Starbuck's voice was casual and pulled him back into lucidity. Adama raised his head and blinked. He'd registered the view before him, but it hadn't sunk in. Sam Anders was battered and bloody, Starbuck behind him, both tied into chairs. She was craning her neck to look at him, apparently being careful not to dislodge Anders' head on her shoulder.
At least, he hoped Anders was alive. Bending down he unbuckled the knife at his ankle and then moved to begin working on the cables wrapped around the resistance leader.
"Hey, I'm the one who's conscious!"
"He's in worse shape."
The man stiffened, wincing as he jerked awake. "Sir?"
"Stay still, son."
"Yeah. Not gonna be a problem."
"Sitting on your ass is never a problem." Kara said, tone mocking.
"It is when it's numb."
Adama felt his lips twitch and fought down the reaction. He was not going to smile, damnit. Smiling while being locked up by terrorists was... well, ok, it was amusing. And might make the stay easier. He finished sawing Anders' arms free and moved to work on the ropes binding his wrists.
"Yeah, well, it's only numb when you want to play pyramid."
"I haven't played pyramid in..." Anders paused, tone suddenly rueful, "In about two weeks, actually."
They went faster than the cables had, and Adama was working on his legs in no time at all.
"Oooh. Two weeks. Must have been hard, giving it up to get rescued."
Adama glanced up to find Anders' jaw clenched. Either with pain or something else. But his reply was light. "Yeah. Hard to give it up. That pyramid court was the best place to stockpile weapons."
The cables snapped free and Adama moved, stepping back. "It's going to hurt in a moment."
"Hey! What about me?"
Adama met Anders' amused look, "I'm tempted to leave you like that, Starbuck. Makes a nice change."
She growled.
So he started with her hands, careful not to dislodge Anders from his chair as he worked between them. "Quit squirming, Starbuck."
For a moment, she obeyed. And then she started tugging her hands apart. The last rope snapped off and he had to yank the knife away before she cut herself on it. "Now my arms."
"No please?" He asked dryly as he moved to saw at the cables.
"Please is pointless."
It warmed his heart a little to hear some of the old Starbuck brat come back. He'd been glad she'd matured, but sometimes, he missed the kid who'd kick you just for saying she couldn't fly.
"Ah, Kara," Anders murmured, "You're all heart."
"Hey. Lemme get out of this chair, Anders, and I'll show you how much heart I have. And then I'll find Tyrol and introduce him to my fists."
Adama frowned, "Tyrol?"
"Yeah, didn't he tell you?" She snorted, "Of course not. Don't wanna disappoint the old man, would he?"
"Kara." Anders turned his head and looked at him. "From what I gather, sir, Tyrol and some of his deck gang--"
Starbuck interrupted him as she swung her arms a little to get the feeling back into them. "And Sam, though he claims he wasn't in on it."
"I wasn't. Let's just say, sir, that they seemed to be attempting to help our marriage."
"Yeah. Did a great job, didn't they?" Kara laughed derisively and waved a hand as Adama moved to work on her legs. "I'll do it myself, sir."
He considered, then handed over the knife and moved to investigate the rest of the cell.
"Anyway, Sam, I think you're full of shit."
"Yeah, I figured that out, Kara. Thanks."
Really, Adama was beginning to wonder if he should have let her go back to Caprica for the man. Of course, that thought was immediately followed by the knowledge that the man had done a hell of a job as the resistance leader on New Caprica. Maybe he could just use Chief's idea and lock them in a room until one of them killed the other. Except that he figured they still kind of needed both of them. Damn.
"There!" Kara sounded triumphant. "You can have your knife back, sir. Gods. My ass is numb and freezing."
He walked back over and silently took the knife as she tried to stand and failed, dropping back into the chair. "Give your legs time to recover, Starbuck."
"Yes, sir."
Adama absently checked the knife's edge as he moved to the wall, searching for the wall-panel all storage rooms were equipped with.
"Right. Let's have a look at you."
"Kara, I'm--ow--fine."
"Gods. Sam, you look like shit. You idiot."
"I feel like shit, too."
He glanced back to find Starbuck standing over the man, straddling his legs and poking at his chest.
"There."
"Ow."
"Stop being a baby, I'm just testing your ribs."
"OW."
"Two fractures, one broken."
Shaking his head , Adama used the knife to pop the panel open and inspected the wires. It hadn't been all that long since he'd had to rewire parts of Galactica's comm system. If he could just find the correct wire, he might be able to do something to attract attention down here. Or maybe he'd be in luck and there was an oxygen sensor he could tamper with.
"Thank you, Dr. Thrace."
"That's Captain, to you."
"Can you move so I can stand up now?"
"Sure you won't fall on your ass?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
"Fine."
Adama couldn't help checking on their progress. And so he watched in fascination as Anders got to his feet, swayed and had Starbuck catch him. For a moment, it looked like they'd both go down and then the man found his legs. But they didn't release each other for at least another thirty seconds. And then Kara turned away without a word and headed to the hatch.
-=-
Barolay was waiting for them in an alcove. She almost shot the first marine before she seemed to realize that they were the good guys. The reaction was for the marines to raise their own weapons and start yelling.
"Whoa!" Chief raised his hands. "Everyone stand down!"
For a moment, they all seemed ready to shoot. And then Barolay lowered her hand and pistol. "Seelix. I see you brought the cavalry."
"Yeah. Let's show 'em. Anyone been by?"
"Only you goons. And a priest. But he was heading the other direction."
"A priest?" Tyrol frowned, recalling his experience at the hands of Brother Cavill. He was a bit leary of priests now. Especially male ones.
"Yeah." Shoving her sidearm back into the holster she'd obviously stolen, just like she'd stolen the weapon, she gestured. "He went that way. Body's this way."
They trailed her like ducklings down the corridor to a closet that had once been used to house toilet paper, but had now been empty since before the attack. The hatch swung inwards and Chief hunkered down to eye the body of the man crumpled inside. He recognized the clothing and the boots--blood spattered though they were. Carefully avoiding looking at the bloody stump, he stood again. "Right. Fan out. Start checking the rooms on this corridor for anything suspicious. And be careful, people."
Seelix followed him as he moved to the nearest communication panel. "CIC, Tyrol. Get me the Admiral."
"I'm... I'm afraid I can't, sir." The tech sounded a little strange. "The Admiral was on his way to meet you, sir, and he just disappeared. We've tried paging him and he hasn't responded."
Damn.
Things were rapidly spiraling out of control. "What good news do you have, Wilson?"
"Talk Wireless is full of support for the military and Adama, sir."
Well. That was at least somewhat good. "All right, get me the XO, then."
-=-
Karl Agathon wondered if he could throw in the towel and stamp his feet and point out to everyone that he was not cut out for this. Except that he was. He'd been trained, and the old man trusted him to keep the ship running smoothly when he wasn't there to do it. But he'd already been worried about Kara--pissed at her he might be, but she was still Starbuck, and they still went way back. And he'd even been worried about Anders. And now the Admiral was missing, two marines were dead, and there were terrorists threatening the peace.
Trying to convince himself it was all in a day's work, he called to Wilson, "Have Major Adama paged to CIC. Now." Then he grabbed the phone. "Chief."
"Got good news and bad news, sir."
"Bad news first."
"There's a headless body that appears to belong to Charlie Connor."
"And the good news?"
"Barolay's still alive, and she saw a priest."
Helo frowned, "A priest?"
"Yeah. I'm not sure it means anything yet, sir."
Major Adama appeared across the strategy table. Helo sighed, "Chief, keep looking and call me with updates."
"Yessir."
Helo set the handset down and looked across at Apollo. "Walk with me, Major."
The other man moved jerkily, seeming surprised by the formality. "What's up, Helo?"
Casting a glance around CIC, Karl lowered his voice. "I'm afraid the Admiral may have been captured by the dissidents, Apollo."
"What?!"
Guessing the man had been busy with his paperwork, Helo explained. "Five hours ago, we received a message indicating that Starbuck and Anders were captives of a group demanding peace with the cylons. Since then, we've received confirmation that the two are missing--"
"Maybe they're off having sex." Apollo suggested dryly.
"Normally, I'd agree. Except that Kara and Sam haven't spoken since we got back to Galactica." He grimaced. "Why else do you think she's been a hardass?"
"Well. Great."
"The Admiral was going to rendezvous with the Chief and work on coordinating the search when he disappeared. I sent two marines with him. They were found dead." The bare facts were painful in their simplicity, and Helo damned himself for letting the old man go off without at least a half dozen marines armed to the teeth.
"Damnit." Apollo straightened, "What can I do to help, Helo?"
"Get down to the flight deck and organize more people to search. Also, make sure that other members of the New Caprica resistance haven't suddenly gone missing."
"You want me to grow coffee plants while I'm at it?" There was slight derision in the man's tone.
Helo cracked a grin, "If you can find the seeds, Major."
-=-
Carefully putting the last flourishes on his next missive, Brother Marlon tilted his head to one side. This would be the message that would make people stand up and listen. Not to the prattling of the current Talk Wireless crowd, but to him. To the Truth.
"Brother Marlon?"
He glanced up to find Dick Smith standing in the doorway, looking awkward in the priestly robes they'd shoved him into. "Yes?"
"I think we may have a problem, sir."
"Oh?"
"The chief of the deck and his band of marines are getting closer. Also, they found Connors' body." The man looked uncomfortable.
"Ah. Pity. Well," he stood with a sigh and began packing up his electronic equipment. "I suppose we'll have to move house. Have you checked on the prisoners recently?"
"Not since we shoved the old man in, sir."
Brother Marlon frowned. "Did you tie him up?"
Really, he reflected as the young man shook his head in confusion, he really should have gone with them to ensure that they dealt with them intelligently. "Then get the men who are still here and go round them up. And be careful, Adama will probably have freed the other two."
Dick smiled unpleasantly, "That resistance guy shouldn't be a problem, not after Karen's worked him over."
"You'd be surprised," Brother Marlon muttered as the man bounced out, suddenly over being stuck in his robes. "Injured men can fight surprisingly well." Then he bent to the task of securing his papers and equipment. If this all fell apart, he would be required to return himself to anonymity for a time.
-=-
"Sir?" Dee waited for Helo to look up from his paperwork and dropped her voice still further, "I've been... watching Wilson, sir. Just out of curiosity, and I think... I think," she plunged ahead, "someone's figured out a way to hack remotely into secure comm channels."
"Is that possible?"
"Yes. It wouldn't be easy, but I could do it. I'd just need the right type of transceiver. Especially with all the repairs they've been making due to the battle damage Galactica suffered."
"Sir!" Gaeta appeared, interrupting them. "I was running a diagnostic, hoping I'd catch something in the empty sections of the ship, and I found a malfunctioning oxygen sensor."
"Yeah, but we see those all the time."
"Not like this, sir. It took a bit of fiddling, but the sensor is, well, it's blinking, sir. In a very specific pattern. If it were sounds or light, it would be blinking SOS in the old naval code." Gaeta looked pleased. "And I've checked. It's in a room that Tyrol and his people haven't searched yet. I think it's the Admiral."
"Get me the location," Helo turned, "Wilson, page Tyrol and Hadrian, now!"
-=-
"Oh, yeah, like that's gonna do any good."
Kara had mocked. Adama had ignored her. Sam figured the man had a good idea and didn't bother saying anything else. He just sat in his chair and waited for the moment they'd need to act. Conserving his strength had seemed like a good idea. Especially after his one attempt at standing had ended up with him leaning against Kara. She still smelled fantastic. Really, he had to stop noticing shit like that.
"You awake?"
Sam looked up at her. "Yeah."
Her eyes were unreadable as she looked at him. "So."
"So?"
She shrugged, "You've been... never mind. I don't wanna know." She turned away.
And he grabbed her hand, stopping her. "Kara."
"Sam... I'm not." She snorted and looked away, something twisted and sad on her face for an instant. Then it was gone. "I'm not the same. This isn't..."
"Yeah. You kinda said that." Or he'd said it. Or intimated it. And she wasn't the same. She was harder-edged. Full of an anger she had nothing to break on, and full of the same hopelessness he recognized in himself from four months of not knowing. The sheer weight of that time had settled on her shoulders while he'd shrugged it off with the sight of her being alive.
"Yeah. Um..."
He waited. When she didn't continue, he carefully stood. "Kara, I think--"
"Quiet." Adama's voice was only a whisper, but it cut across his words and Sam clamped his lips closed.
The sound of feet approaching made him tense and bruises across his chest ached in reply--as did his abused ribs. Kara moved to the hatch, leaning against it, listening. A moment later, she propped her foot on the wall and unstrapped the knife at her ankle. Deciding he wasn't going to be the only one without a weapon, Sam bent and grabbed the back of his chair. One heft, and he discovered it was light enough for his purposes. Possibly too light, but anything heavier would probably not work anyway.
Moving to the wall on one side of the hatch, Sam placed himself at Kara's back.
With a wrench of metal on metal, the hatch swung open.
One man stepped into the room, gun up and ready. He was easy prey for Kara and her knife, and she had his gun in her hands before he could do more than yelp in surprise. "Sam!"
He came around her and threw the chair at the hatch as they tried to close it. It jammed into the opening giving Kara time enough to kick it and fire out into the corridor. The old man took her back and Sam paused to slam the dazed man against the wall, knocking him unconscious before he retrieved his chair on his way out of the hatch.
It was over in seconds, leaving Kara standing over the bodies of three men while the Admiral slammed another into a wall. Sam turned to watch the other way, just in case.
"Here." He reached back and grabbed the rifle Kara had pressed against his side before tossing the chair to the side.
Bullets were easier to control. "Think this is all of them?"
"There are at least two more. And the man leading them."
"And that bitch, Karen." added Kara, voice full of anger.
"Yeah." Sam looked back at Kara. "And her." He wondered if explaining to Kara that he'd kind of understood Karen's rage would be a good idea. Probably not.
-=-
Keeping Sharon Agathon on Colonial One had been as much so that Laura could observe her as it had been for the possible need to utilize the raptor she'd flown. Being married had apparently done wonders for the woman--cylon. It was hard to remember she was a cylon. There was a very human serenity to her, something the others had lacked. Except perhaps the Six they'd called Caprica, and even she had seemed to have her moments of inhumanity.
It was strange to think of her with a child, however. And the sadness she felt at Maya's death and Hera's loss probably couldn't begin to touch what Sharon had felt.
Although Roslin wasn't entirely convinced she 'felt' anything.
Tory stuck her head in, "The press are beginning to question the reasoning behind the interviews, did you want to give them anything?"
"Not yet." And never, if she could maneuver it that way. "I'm still awaiting word from Galactica."
"All right. I'll stall them for now."
-=-
It was all coming apart. The last of his equipment packed, Brother Marlon picked up his pistol and moved to the hatch. No sound in the corridor was good. Given the firefight he'd heard several minutes before, and the fact that it wasn't his people who'd won, now would be a good time for a strategic retreat.
Melt back into the population, mingle, and find more people to work with him. There were always malcontents just waiting for a cause to abuse.
'Twas a pity this one had gone south so quickly, but it had also proved how easy it would be to destroy the fleet and the hold Admiral Adama had. The man had been stupid and easy to capture. Brother Marlon half-smiled, if all he wanted was the man dead, he could accomplish that easily, at any time.
"You're running." Karen stepped out of the corner, and looked at him, contempt in her eyes.
"A wise man understands retreat, my dear."
"So do cowards. Now you see why you should have just let me kill them?"
He shook his head, "That wasn't what we needed. We needed them to see us as a threat, and they have."
"Oh, we're such a threat that you're running away, back to anonymity and plotting." Karen stepped closer to him, eyes angry. "You'll let them all get away with it."
"For the moment, Karen." Really, she was far too emotional for this. Perhaps he should have chosen better allies, but she was who he'd been left with. Most of the sheep were happy to be back in the fleet, happy to not be living in peace with the cylons. "We'll build our numbers back up and we'll strike again, and this time--"
"This time, nothing! You can't plan worth shit, Brother Marlon."
"I--"
The knife didn't even hurt. And he was still staring at her when she twisted it, eyes cold. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to relieve you of command, Brother Marlon. You talk a good game, but your follow-up is lousy."
The edge of the knife scraped along his ribs and he coughed, wondering why he could taste something sweet. He was drowning. Drowning in Karen's anger, in his perceived incompetence. The last thing he considered before his body folded in on itself was that he'd regret not seeing her kill Samuel Anders. And perhaps he should have let her.
-=-
Adama had led them to the nearest communications panel, Sam watching their backs. He was doing his best to keep up, but his chest had started feeling tight sometime after they'd started out. He couldn't exactly feel his ribs hurting anymore, and figured that might be a bad thing. For the moment, it was a gods-send, as it kept him from becoming a burden on the other two.
Movement at the end of the corridor caught his eyes and he raised the rifle, "Kara." He hissed, getting her attention.
The movement flickered again and Chief Tyrol stepped around the corner, staring at them. "Whoa! Friendlies!"
"I'm not so sure about that," Kara muttered.
Sergeant Hadrian and a squad of marines appeared as well. She eyed them, "It appears we're all friendlies here, sir."
Lowering his gun, Sam felt relief fill him. Marines would watch their back now. He sagged suddenly, wondering just when his body had decided it was time to sleep.
Reaching out, he grabbed Kara to steady himself.
In reflex, she elbowed him.
"Ow." He sucked in a breath and started coughing, losing his balance as he doubled over, pain shooting across his chest.
"Sam, you idiot--" Kara pivoted into him, holding him steady. "You're too heavy."
"Whoa, Anders." Chief appeared on his other side, propping him up. "No collapsing until we get you to Doc."
"Yeah," he wheezed, "I'll try."
"Sir?" The word was tossed over Chief's shoulder towards the Admiral.
"Hadrian, detail two men to go with them to medical. The rest come with me."
Sam closed his eyes as they started walking again, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. And not falling over. Falling over could be bad.
-=-
"Madame President."
"Admiral Adama." She felt herself relax, and hated it. "It's good to hear your voice."
"And yours. I'm calling to inform you that the situation has been dealt with."
How very formal of him. Laura half-smiled, "Thank you, Admiral. I've been considering what to tell the press about this--"
"Nothing."
She almost laughed. Suddenly, it was two years before, and he was the hard military man she didn't really understand who didn't understand her. Fine, though, if that's what he wanted. "Admiral, I'm afraid we can't keep this from the people. They need to know that there's a dangerous element that wants peace with the cylons."
"If you tell them, it will just allow more of them to identify with each other."
Laura rolled her eyes, and changed the subject. "Admiral, how are Sam Anders and Captain Thrace?"
"Recovering."
"From what?"
"I'm afraid that is classified, Madame President." He paused, "If you've no more use for Lieutenant Agathon, I could use her back here aboard Galactica."
"All right. I'll send her home. Goodbye." Hanging up on him gave her some measure of control.
It was petty, but it was better than letting him hang up on her.
"He's all right?"
Looking up at Sharon, she smiled at her, "All three appear to be fine. And he's requested your return."
Sharon bounced to her feet. "Thank you, Madame President." She turned and headed for the doorway.
"Wait, Lieutenant."
"Sir?"
"Take this box back with you. I'm sure they'll want to analyze it."
For a moment, Sharon looked like she wanted to refuse, her eyes drawn to the box and its contents. Then she seemed to shake herself, "Sorry, Madame President, I should have thought of that."
"It's all right." Laura could understand her reluctance to have it near her. "Be careful with it."
"Yes, sir." was her reply as she picked the box up carefully and then left.
-=-
"Explain yourself, Chief."
Galen almost wanted to pace. But he fought the action and met the Admiral's eyes. "Sir, it seems... Well, it seems stupid now. But I thought, if Captain Thrace were happy she wouldn't be so suicidal and my planes wouldn't come back bruised or broken, sir."
Gods, it sounded stupid. What the hell had he been thinking?
Adama blinked at him, then nodded. "You were doing what you could to improve the morale of a member of your crew."
"Something like that, sir," Tyrol could feel the slight flush in his cheeks. Damnit, he felt like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "I just thought... he went through so much, sir, and she's just shutting him out. It didn't seem right."
"You can't take personal matters into your own hands, Chief."
"I know, sir. There's no excuse." He dropped his gaze, unable to keep meeting the Admiral's eyes.
"Sir!" Gaeta was suddenly there, "marines report that Captain Paladino took his own life before they could question him."
"Damn."
"I should, ah, get back to the deck," suggested Tyrol, slightly hopeful. At least there, the old man couldn't glare at him.
"Chief." It was just one word, but it was more than enough. Warning and reprimand both.
Nodding, Galen saluted. "I'll get back to work, sir."
"You do that, Chief. And if you come up with any ideas on improving the morale of your fellow crew members, run them past me first."
"Yessir."
-=-
Karen had found it ridiculously easy to avoid the marines hunting for her. At least, she assumed they were looking for her. With Brother Marlon and most of his men dead, there really wasn't anyone else to find. It was even easier to get into the infirmary. Fading into the background, she'd watched for a while as they patched Sam Anders up. Taping his ribs, swabbing his cuts.
Through it all, his wife had remained, mocking him. Calling him an idiot and a dumbass and a moron. He'd mostly seemed to ignore her.
It was odd to think that this man who was so obviously loved was the man who'd allowed people to immolate themselves for his cause. Who'd sent suicide bombers against the New Caprican refugees and the cylons alike. But then, she had to remember that sometimes, evil could seem to be a great good.
Then everyone seemed done with their jobs and they all drifted away. The marines walked right by Karen without even noticing her, and she wondered how easy it would be to take them out. And didn't bother, since they weren't her target. Even Kara Thrace walked away from his bedside.
Karen waited another few minutes to be certain and then she left her hiding place and walked to the bed. Her knife was already out, the blood from Brother Marlon still staining it dark.
It would take only a moment. Shove the knife into his chest and twist, as she had with the man who'd proved to be a coward.
A hand fisted in her hair and jerked her backwards, another wrapped around her wrist and yanked her arm behind her back. The pain made her gasp.
"Didja think I'd forget?" Kara Thrace's voice was full of anger. "I was waiting for you, you stupid bitch."
Karen struggled, her own hatred making her stronger than the pilot expected. She broke free and turned, knife out. "I'll just do you both."
A chair smashed into her shoulder and head.
Starbuck grabbed her, knocking the knife from her hand and punching her in the gut. "Get back in bed, Samuel."
Throwing herself at Starbuck, Karen fought past the pain and grappled with the woman. She scratched and bit, trying to do as much damage before the other woman could subdue her.
"Ow! Shit!" The onslaught took Starbuck by surprise, and for an instant, Karen had the upper hand.
Then Starbuck smashed a fist into her jaw, and Karen's head whipped back. Another punch and another, and suddenly, she remembered the brass knuckles. But it was too late to put them on. Even getting her hands up to defend herself was futile as Starbuck battered away at her.
Next time, Karen thought fuzzily as Starbuck's hands swung her around and into the wall, she would remember the knuckles.
Everything went sideways and she fell into the dark to the sound of Sam Anders mocking his wife's boxing technique.
-=-
"Report, sergeant."
Hadrian almost clicked her heels together as she snapped to attention. Then she held out the carefully-tagged knife. "This is the knife which was used to kill both Brother Marlon and Charlie Connors. It was found on the woman who attempted to murder Samuel Anders and his wife. The woman's name is Karen Szarda. She was one of the people apparently suspected by the circle of being involved in cylon activities. Given the statements taken from Kara Thrace and Samuel Anders, she held a grudge against the resistance for the suicide bombings, one of which killed her lover, Sean McIntyre."
"And Brother Marlon?"
"From his notes, we've found that he blames Laura Roslin for the destruction of his faith in the gods. We've rounded up two more of his accomplices, but the last two are still eluding us."
"Paladino?"
"The note he left indicates that he still felt responsible for the civilians killed on his watch, and he thought this would make a difference. When he realized it hadn't, he took his own life rather than face court-martial."
Adama sighed. "Tell me good news, sergeant."
"Popular opinion is high for the military." Really, it was all she could offer.
-=-
Kara stood with her arms crossed over her chest and watched Sam sleep. It was stupid, sticking around. He'd made it clear he didn't love her anymore, and she'd pushed him away. And yet... It was easier to push him away. Easier to not deal with the complication of him. For four months, she'd expected him to come and save her and all of the time that she was stuck with Leoben, he'd been doing something far bigger than just trying to rescue his wife. It pissed her off that he wasn't as selfish as she was. That he could just walk away from what they'd had when things got rough.
Having to listen to him take that beating had been hard. She shoved the memories away, knowing they reminded her of sitting down to dinner with Leoben night after night. The same sense of futility that had her fingering fork tines had made Sam dare the woman to shoot him.
That she hadn't was something Kara wouldn't understand. In her position, with all of that anger, she would have pulled the trigger.
And Sam Anders would be dead.
A shiver worked its way through her and she yawned, irritated. Adama had posted several marines outside the infirmary in case more of the insurgents tried something. Sam would be safe. She could go back to her rack and work on putting him out of her life again.
It wouldn't be easy, but it was the safe route. The one that wouldn't hurt so much.
All she had to do was leave.
Her boots made heavy sounds when she finally moved, arms dropping to her sides. The side of the bed stopped her and she poked Sam. "Move over."
A groan escaped him and one eye opened. "Kara?" He sounded confused.
"Move over. I'm cold and tired."
He blinked and then said, "Take your boots off, first."
While he was wriggling over carefully, cursing every so often, Kara dealt with her boots, leaving them at the foot of the bed and wrinkling her nose at the socks on her feet. "Demanding man."
"Boots do not belong in bed," he replied firmly, raising the blankets for her.
Kara scrambled into the space he'd made, cursing the size of the bed. Her legs and feet ended up tangled with his, and for a moment she thought she'd fall off before his arm snaked around her, tucking her against his side. Then she couldn't figure out what to do with her own arm and ended up draping it over his chest.
"Ow."
"Wimp." But she moved the arm lower and settled her head on his shoulder.
He grunted.
Yeah. She could have taken the easy way and walked out. But since when had Starbuck ever taken the easy way?
-f-
-=-
Adama picked up the phone, "Madame President, I apologize for keeping you waiting, but this situation seems to be spiraling out of control."
"Yes." She sounded odd, "Admiral, I don't mean to overburden you, but a package was just received on Colonial One. It was delivered by Lt. Val--Agathon."
He frowned, "That's odd, Lieutenant Agathon is under orders not to leave this ship."
"No, what's odd is that your Captain Paladino is apparently sick."
Paladino was down sick, and no one had mentioned it? And the president had mentioned something. A package? "Not a bomb?"
"No. It's a little more grisly, Admiral. Charlie Connors' head."
She always did tend to cut to the chase when things were serious. It took him a moment to process. Then, "What?"
"Exactly what it sounds like, Admiral." She sounded impatient now. "I received a gift to prove this group is quite serious in their aims."
"I'll have Paladino investigated. I'll also find out who last talked to Charlie Connors, and where he might have been."
"You do that."
They were both silent a moment before he finally admitted, "Starbuck and Anders are indeed missing."
"Damn."
He knew that was the only thing she would say in anger.
"Admiral, I'm going to hang onto Lieutenant Agathon for now. She'll be of use over here. I'll also have Tory look into things, see if she can't get a bead on whether the press has any information."
"You do that," his mind was already going through things they needed to do before he continued, "I'll organize things over here."
"Good luck, Admiral."
-=-
Brother Marlon looked up as Karen entered the room he'd appropriated as an office. "I trust you left them both alive."
She jerked slightly and ducked her head. "I did."
Curious. Perhaps she had a guilty conscience. He smiled at her, "Very good, Karen, very good. Now, my source inside tells me that both messages have been received."
Her head came up again, and the banked anger in her eyes made him smile more. "I enjoyed it, you know."
Really, if there was one thing about her that he'd started to dislike, it was this obsession. But it was a useful obsession. "I thought you might. Are you ready for the next stage?"
"Certainly. You know he'll never cut a deal with the cylons."
"Just as I know that he regards Captain Thrace as a daughter." Marlon frowned thoughtfully. "I think we may have to try for something rather larger."
"A roomful of hostages wouldn't sway him."
No, regrettably, Sacia Abinell's failed attempt had proved that. Even the life of his own son hadn't been incentive enough to deal with what he considered terrorists. Still, if their second and third moves came off successfully, Admiral Adama might indeed have to negotiate.
-=-
"Chief!" Seelix shoved through the crowd of marines. She looked a little pale, "Chief, I think, I think I found Charlie."
"You think?" Trying to figure out what the hell Charlie had to do with the two missing people, he shook his head. "Seelix, that's great, but I don't have time for this."
"I can't tell because he's missing his frakking head!"
The entire group fell silent. Tyrol stared at her, "What did you just say?"
"You heard me." She shifted, eyeing them all. "I was looking for him, I'd gotten worried. And then I... You need to see, Chief. And we need to inform the Admiral that there's a murderer on board."
"Did you leave the body where you found it?"
"Yeah. I left Barolay watching it from down the corridor." Seelix looked uncertain. "I didn't think I should leave it alone, y'know?"
Right. Dead body. Right. He could deal with this. Chief moved to the phone on the wall and snapped into it, "I need to speak to the Admiral. Now."
The comm officer on the other end of the line said, pleasantly, "Just a moment, sir."
It was times like this that Galen missed Dee being on the board. Dee would have asked him what the problem was. Dee would have cared. Or maybe she would have chattered at him until the Old Man picked up.
-=-
Kara shifted her weight in the chair, trying to wake the nerves in her legs. They felt numb and dead. And her ass wasn't doing too good, either. Her shoulders had stopped registering the strain sometime after Sam had fallen asleep again (at least, she hoped he was asleep and not just passed out). It had occurred to her that maybe she should have kept him awake--wasn't that what you were supposed to do for concussion victims?
Maybe. She'd never been very good at the first aid courses--at least not past the "tie this, splint that" shit.
When they got out of here, though, she was going to kick his ass.
Even if it was a really nice ass.
She scowled, shoving the thought away. She'd dumped him and walked away, and he'd given her back the dog tag. Yeah, they both still had really ugly tattoos, and somewhere, her marriage was recorded on paper. But paper wasn't really something she'd paid much attention to, anyway.
And it really boiled down to one thing: he hadn't wanted to deal with her when she wasn't Starbuck. He'd finally seen what was under the facade and he'd run. Like any smart man should.
Shoving that thought to join the rest, she gritted her teeth and shifted in the chair, wondering if she could find enough give in the cables to get herself free. Or even just get to the god-damn knife strapped to her leg.
Really, when she got free, they were going to find out exactly how much she hated being stuck with nothing to do.
And possibly, Karen would find herself with broken ribs for what she'd done to Sam.
Kara figured it was only logical. After all, the woman was a fruitcake.
-=-
"Sir!"
Brother Marlon looked up as one of the men he'd assigned to watch CIC from a distance burst in. He was a civilian named Jared, and he'd seemed fairly useful. He liked to watch. "What is it?"
"They've found Connors' body, sir." The man jiggled from foot to foot. "And Admiral Adama is going down to view it. Looks like they've got about two marines with him, sir. We're not going to have a better chance."
Damn. He'd known they'd gound the body, but not the latter information. This would be the perfect opportunity for step four. Marlon frowned, considering. Then he nodded. "Take four men and see to it. He should fight, I imagine he's a man who values his life. If he does, try not to injure him too badly."
Jared nodded, grinning, "Yes, sir."
-=-
"Give me good news." Laura said as Tory stepped back into her office. From her seat, Sharon shifted a little straighter, unconsciously coming to attention.
Tory looked between them, "Madame President, I'm afraid I can't. The extremist group released a manifesto to the press, detailing their demands." She paused, then continued, "They're claiming the capture of Captain Thrace, Samuel Anders, and Admiral Adama."
"What?" Sharon was on her feet, "That can't be true--Madame President, if there's a threat to the Admiral, you have to warn him."
"I know, Lieutenant. Tory, get me the Admiral, now."
Tory shook her head, "I tried, they paged him, and he hasn't responded."
Shit. Laura could think that, in the privacy of her own brain. "Then get me the XO of Galactica. And see if you can't get the press to find a few survivors of the cylons' internment facilities. Get some people talking about the things they endured."
"On it."
"Gods..." Sharon sank back into her chair. "This is a nightmare."
"I know, Lieutenant."
-=-
The two marines Helo had detailed to go with him hadn't even stood a chance. Admiral Adama stared down at their corpses and cursed mentally. Five men in masks surrounded him. Obviously, the terrorists were upping the stakes.
"Come with us peaceably, or we kill you now."
He looked at the man, "Then kill me now."
Really, the thug had to be stupid to think he'd go with them, and if he was going to offer stupid ultimatums, Adama was going to call his bluff.
The man gestured impatiently, and he tensed, ducking under the blow that would have slammed into the back of his head. There was a curse from his assailants and then two of them launched themselves from either side. Adama wondered if they were just stupid or over-eager as he stepped back, letting them hit each other. Arms wrapped around him from behind, the forearm dragging tight across his throat, cutting off his air.
Incongruously, he noticed that the man had had onions at some point in the last day.
Unfortunately, before he could break the hold one of the others used the butt of his gun to cold-cock him.
It was enough to disorient him and they dragged him through several corridors before yanking open a hatch and shoving him into a storage room. Adama wasn't sure he knew exactly where they'd left him--the slamming had told him he wouldn't be getting out that way easily.
Leaning against the wall, he rubbed at his neck.
"Don't suppose you've got a knife handy, sir."
Starbuck's voice was casual and pulled him back into lucidity. Adama raised his head and blinked. He'd registered the view before him, but it hadn't sunk in. Sam Anders was battered and bloody, Starbuck behind him, both tied into chairs. She was craning her neck to look at him, apparently being careful not to dislodge Anders' head on her shoulder.
At least, he hoped Anders was alive. Bending down he unbuckled the knife at his ankle and then moved to begin working on the cables wrapped around the resistance leader.
"Hey, I'm the one who's conscious!"
"He's in worse shape."
The man stiffened, wincing as he jerked awake. "Sir?"
"Stay still, son."
"Yeah. Not gonna be a problem."
"Sitting on your ass is never a problem." Kara said, tone mocking.
"It is when it's numb."
Adama felt his lips twitch and fought down the reaction. He was not going to smile, damnit. Smiling while being locked up by terrorists was... well, ok, it was amusing. And might make the stay easier. He finished sawing Anders' arms free and moved to work on the ropes binding his wrists.
"Yeah, well, it's only numb when you want to play pyramid."
"I haven't played pyramid in..." Anders paused, tone suddenly rueful, "In about two weeks, actually."
They went faster than the cables had, and Adama was working on his legs in no time at all.
"Oooh. Two weeks. Must have been hard, giving it up to get rescued."
Adama glanced up to find Anders' jaw clenched. Either with pain or something else. But his reply was light. "Yeah. Hard to give it up. That pyramid court was the best place to stockpile weapons."
The cables snapped free and Adama moved, stepping back. "It's going to hurt in a moment."
"Hey! What about me?"
Adama met Anders' amused look, "I'm tempted to leave you like that, Starbuck. Makes a nice change."
She growled.
So he started with her hands, careful not to dislodge Anders from his chair as he worked between them. "Quit squirming, Starbuck."
For a moment, she obeyed. And then she started tugging her hands apart. The last rope snapped off and he had to yank the knife away before she cut herself on it. "Now my arms."
"No please?" He asked dryly as he moved to saw at the cables.
"Please is pointless."
It warmed his heart a little to hear some of the old Starbuck brat come back. He'd been glad she'd matured, but sometimes, he missed the kid who'd kick you just for saying she couldn't fly.
"Ah, Kara," Anders murmured, "You're all heart."
"Hey. Lemme get out of this chair, Anders, and I'll show you how much heart I have. And then I'll find Tyrol and introduce him to my fists."
Adama frowned, "Tyrol?"
"Yeah, didn't he tell you?" She snorted, "Of course not. Don't wanna disappoint the old man, would he?"
"Kara." Anders turned his head and looked at him. "From what I gather, sir, Tyrol and some of his deck gang--"
Starbuck interrupted him as she swung her arms a little to get the feeling back into them. "And Sam, though he claims he wasn't in on it."
"I wasn't. Let's just say, sir, that they seemed to be attempting to help our marriage."
"Yeah. Did a great job, didn't they?" Kara laughed derisively and waved a hand as Adama moved to work on her legs. "I'll do it myself, sir."
He considered, then handed over the knife and moved to investigate the rest of the cell.
"Anyway, Sam, I think you're full of shit."
"Yeah, I figured that out, Kara. Thanks."
Really, Adama was beginning to wonder if he should have let her go back to Caprica for the man. Of course, that thought was immediately followed by the knowledge that the man had done a hell of a job as the resistance leader on New Caprica. Maybe he could just use Chief's idea and lock them in a room until one of them killed the other. Except that he figured they still kind of needed both of them. Damn.
"There!" Kara sounded triumphant. "You can have your knife back, sir. Gods. My ass is numb and freezing."
He walked back over and silently took the knife as she tried to stand and failed, dropping back into the chair. "Give your legs time to recover, Starbuck."
"Yes, sir."
Adama absently checked the knife's edge as he moved to the wall, searching for the wall-panel all storage rooms were equipped with.
"Right. Let's have a look at you."
"Kara, I'm--ow--fine."
"Gods. Sam, you look like shit. You idiot."
"I feel like shit, too."
He glanced back to find Starbuck standing over the man, straddling his legs and poking at his chest.
"There."
"Ow."
"Stop being a baby, I'm just testing your ribs."
"OW."
"Two fractures, one broken."
Shaking his head , Adama used the knife to pop the panel open and inspected the wires. It hadn't been all that long since he'd had to rewire parts of Galactica's comm system. If he could just find the correct wire, he might be able to do something to attract attention down here. Or maybe he'd be in luck and there was an oxygen sensor he could tamper with.
"Thank you, Dr. Thrace."
"That's Captain, to you."
"Can you move so I can stand up now?"
"Sure you won't fall on your ass?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
"Fine."
Adama couldn't help checking on their progress. And so he watched in fascination as Anders got to his feet, swayed and had Starbuck catch him. For a moment, it looked like they'd both go down and then the man found his legs. But they didn't release each other for at least another thirty seconds. And then Kara turned away without a word and headed to the hatch.
-=-
Barolay was waiting for them in an alcove. She almost shot the first marine before she seemed to realize that they were the good guys. The reaction was for the marines to raise their own weapons and start yelling.
"Whoa!" Chief raised his hands. "Everyone stand down!"
For a moment, they all seemed ready to shoot. And then Barolay lowered her hand and pistol. "Seelix. I see you brought the cavalry."
"Yeah. Let's show 'em. Anyone been by?"
"Only you goons. And a priest. But he was heading the other direction."
"A priest?" Tyrol frowned, recalling his experience at the hands of Brother Cavill. He was a bit leary of priests now. Especially male ones.
"Yeah." Shoving her sidearm back into the holster she'd obviously stolen, just like she'd stolen the weapon, she gestured. "He went that way. Body's this way."
They trailed her like ducklings down the corridor to a closet that had once been used to house toilet paper, but had now been empty since before the attack. The hatch swung inwards and Chief hunkered down to eye the body of the man crumpled inside. He recognized the clothing and the boots--blood spattered though they were. Carefully avoiding looking at the bloody stump, he stood again. "Right. Fan out. Start checking the rooms on this corridor for anything suspicious. And be careful, people."
Seelix followed him as he moved to the nearest communication panel. "CIC, Tyrol. Get me the Admiral."
"I'm... I'm afraid I can't, sir." The tech sounded a little strange. "The Admiral was on his way to meet you, sir, and he just disappeared. We've tried paging him and he hasn't responded."
Damn.
Things were rapidly spiraling out of control. "What good news do you have, Wilson?"
"Talk Wireless is full of support for the military and Adama, sir."
Well. That was at least somewhat good. "All right, get me the XO, then."
-=-
Karl Agathon wondered if he could throw in the towel and stamp his feet and point out to everyone that he was not cut out for this. Except that he was. He'd been trained, and the old man trusted him to keep the ship running smoothly when he wasn't there to do it. But he'd already been worried about Kara--pissed at her he might be, but she was still Starbuck, and they still went way back. And he'd even been worried about Anders. And now the Admiral was missing, two marines were dead, and there were terrorists threatening the peace.
Trying to convince himself it was all in a day's work, he called to Wilson, "Have Major Adama paged to CIC. Now." Then he grabbed the phone. "Chief."
"Got good news and bad news, sir."
"Bad news first."
"There's a headless body that appears to belong to Charlie Connor."
"And the good news?"
"Barolay's still alive, and she saw a priest."
Helo frowned, "A priest?"
"Yeah. I'm not sure it means anything yet, sir."
Major Adama appeared across the strategy table. Helo sighed, "Chief, keep looking and call me with updates."
"Yessir."
Helo set the handset down and looked across at Apollo. "Walk with me, Major."
The other man moved jerkily, seeming surprised by the formality. "What's up, Helo?"
Casting a glance around CIC, Karl lowered his voice. "I'm afraid the Admiral may have been captured by the dissidents, Apollo."
"What?!"
Guessing the man had been busy with his paperwork, Helo explained. "Five hours ago, we received a message indicating that Starbuck and Anders were captives of a group demanding peace with the cylons. Since then, we've received confirmation that the two are missing--"
"Maybe they're off having sex." Apollo suggested dryly.
"Normally, I'd agree. Except that Kara and Sam haven't spoken since we got back to Galactica." He grimaced. "Why else do you think she's been a hardass?"
"Well. Great."
"The Admiral was going to rendezvous with the Chief and work on coordinating the search when he disappeared. I sent two marines with him. They were found dead." The bare facts were painful in their simplicity, and Helo damned himself for letting the old man go off without at least a half dozen marines armed to the teeth.
"Damnit." Apollo straightened, "What can I do to help, Helo?"
"Get down to the flight deck and organize more people to search. Also, make sure that other members of the New Caprica resistance haven't suddenly gone missing."
"You want me to grow coffee plants while I'm at it?" There was slight derision in the man's tone.
Helo cracked a grin, "If you can find the seeds, Major."
-=-
Carefully putting the last flourishes on his next missive, Brother Marlon tilted his head to one side. This would be the message that would make people stand up and listen. Not to the prattling of the current Talk Wireless crowd, but to him. To the Truth.
"Brother Marlon?"
He glanced up to find Dick Smith standing in the doorway, looking awkward in the priestly robes they'd shoved him into. "Yes?"
"I think we may have a problem, sir."
"Oh?"
"The chief of the deck and his band of marines are getting closer. Also, they found Connors' body." The man looked uncomfortable.
"Ah. Pity. Well," he stood with a sigh and began packing up his electronic equipment. "I suppose we'll have to move house. Have you checked on the prisoners recently?"
"Not since we shoved the old man in, sir."
Brother Marlon frowned. "Did you tie him up?"
Really, he reflected as the young man shook his head in confusion, he really should have gone with them to ensure that they dealt with them intelligently. "Then get the men who are still here and go round them up. And be careful, Adama will probably have freed the other two."
Dick smiled unpleasantly, "That resistance guy shouldn't be a problem, not after Karen's worked him over."
"You'd be surprised," Brother Marlon muttered as the man bounced out, suddenly over being stuck in his robes. "Injured men can fight surprisingly well." Then he bent to the task of securing his papers and equipment. If this all fell apart, he would be required to return himself to anonymity for a time.
-=-
"Sir?" Dee waited for Helo to look up from his paperwork and dropped her voice still further, "I've been... watching Wilson, sir. Just out of curiosity, and I think... I think," she plunged ahead, "someone's figured out a way to hack remotely into secure comm channels."
"Is that possible?"
"Yes. It wouldn't be easy, but I could do it. I'd just need the right type of transceiver. Especially with all the repairs they've been making due to the battle damage Galactica suffered."
"Sir!" Gaeta appeared, interrupting them. "I was running a diagnostic, hoping I'd catch something in the empty sections of the ship, and I found a malfunctioning oxygen sensor."
"Yeah, but we see those all the time."
"Not like this, sir. It took a bit of fiddling, but the sensor is, well, it's blinking, sir. In a very specific pattern. If it were sounds or light, it would be blinking SOS in the old naval code." Gaeta looked pleased. "And I've checked. It's in a room that Tyrol and his people haven't searched yet. I think it's the Admiral."
"Get me the location," Helo turned, "Wilson, page Tyrol and Hadrian, now!"
-=-
"Oh, yeah, like that's gonna do any good."
Kara had mocked. Adama had ignored her. Sam figured the man had a good idea and didn't bother saying anything else. He just sat in his chair and waited for the moment they'd need to act. Conserving his strength had seemed like a good idea. Especially after his one attempt at standing had ended up with him leaning against Kara. She still smelled fantastic. Really, he had to stop noticing shit like that.
"You awake?"
Sam looked up at her. "Yeah."
Her eyes were unreadable as she looked at him. "So."
"So?"
She shrugged, "You've been... never mind. I don't wanna know." She turned away.
And he grabbed her hand, stopping her. "Kara."
"Sam... I'm not." She snorted and looked away, something twisted and sad on her face for an instant. Then it was gone. "I'm not the same. This isn't..."
"Yeah. You kinda said that." Or he'd said it. Or intimated it. And she wasn't the same. She was harder-edged. Full of an anger she had nothing to break on, and full of the same hopelessness he recognized in himself from four months of not knowing. The sheer weight of that time had settled on her shoulders while he'd shrugged it off with the sight of her being alive.
"Yeah. Um..."
He waited. When she didn't continue, he carefully stood. "Kara, I think--"
"Quiet." Adama's voice was only a whisper, but it cut across his words and Sam clamped his lips closed.
The sound of feet approaching made him tense and bruises across his chest ached in reply--as did his abused ribs. Kara moved to the hatch, leaning against it, listening. A moment later, she propped her foot on the wall and unstrapped the knife at her ankle. Deciding he wasn't going to be the only one without a weapon, Sam bent and grabbed the back of his chair. One heft, and he discovered it was light enough for his purposes. Possibly too light, but anything heavier would probably not work anyway.
Moving to the wall on one side of the hatch, Sam placed himself at Kara's back.
With a wrench of metal on metal, the hatch swung open.
One man stepped into the room, gun up and ready. He was easy prey for Kara and her knife, and she had his gun in her hands before he could do more than yelp in surprise. "Sam!"
He came around her and threw the chair at the hatch as they tried to close it. It jammed into the opening giving Kara time enough to kick it and fire out into the corridor. The old man took her back and Sam paused to slam the dazed man against the wall, knocking him unconscious before he retrieved his chair on his way out of the hatch.
It was over in seconds, leaving Kara standing over the bodies of three men while the Admiral slammed another into a wall. Sam turned to watch the other way, just in case.
"Here." He reached back and grabbed the rifle Kara had pressed against his side before tossing the chair to the side.
Bullets were easier to control. "Think this is all of them?"
"There are at least two more. And the man leading them."
"And that bitch, Karen." added Kara, voice full of anger.
"Yeah." Sam looked back at Kara. "And her." He wondered if explaining to Kara that he'd kind of understood Karen's rage would be a good idea. Probably not.
-=-
Keeping Sharon Agathon on Colonial One had been as much so that Laura could observe her as it had been for the possible need to utilize the raptor she'd flown. Being married had apparently done wonders for the woman--cylon. It was hard to remember she was a cylon. There was a very human serenity to her, something the others had lacked. Except perhaps the Six they'd called Caprica, and even she had seemed to have her moments of inhumanity.
It was strange to think of her with a child, however. And the sadness she felt at Maya's death and Hera's loss probably couldn't begin to touch what Sharon had felt.
Although Roslin wasn't entirely convinced she 'felt' anything.
Tory stuck her head in, "The press are beginning to question the reasoning behind the interviews, did you want to give them anything?"
"Not yet." And never, if she could maneuver it that way. "I'm still awaiting word from Galactica."
"All right. I'll stall them for now."
-=-
It was all coming apart. The last of his equipment packed, Brother Marlon picked up his pistol and moved to the hatch. No sound in the corridor was good. Given the firefight he'd heard several minutes before, and the fact that it wasn't his people who'd won, now would be a good time for a strategic retreat.
Melt back into the population, mingle, and find more people to work with him. There were always malcontents just waiting for a cause to abuse.
'Twas a pity this one had gone south so quickly, but it had also proved how easy it would be to destroy the fleet and the hold Admiral Adama had. The man had been stupid and easy to capture. Brother Marlon half-smiled, if all he wanted was the man dead, he could accomplish that easily, at any time.
"You're running." Karen stepped out of the corner, and looked at him, contempt in her eyes.
"A wise man understands retreat, my dear."
"So do cowards. Now you see why you should have just let me kill them?"
He shook his head, "That wasn't what we needed. We needed them to see us as a threat, and they have."
"Oh, we're such a threat that you're running away, back to anonymity and plotting." Karen stepped closer to him, eyes angry. "You'll let them all get away with it."
"For the moment, Karen." Really, she was far too emotional for this. Perhaps he should have chosen better allies, but she was who he'd been left with. Most of the sheep were happy to be back in the fleet, happy to not be living in peace with the cylons. "We'll build our numbers back up and we'll strike again, and this time--"
"This time, nothing! You can't plan worth shit, Brother Marlon."
"I--"
The knife didn't even hurt. And he was still staring at her when she twisted it, eyes cold. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to relieve you of command, Brother Marlon. You talk a good game, but your follow-up is lousy."
The edge of the knife scraped along his ribs and he coughed, wondering why he could taste something sweet. He was drowning. Drowning in Karen's anger, in his perceived incompetence. The last thing he considered before his body folded in on itself was that he'd regret not seeing her kill Samuel Anders. And perhaps he should have let her.
-=-
Adama had led them to the nearest communications panel, Sam watching their backs. He was doing his best to keep up, but his chest had started feeling tight sometime after they'd started out. He couldn't exactly feel his ribs hurting anymore, and figured that might be a bad thing. For the moment, it was a gods-send, as it kept him from becoming a burden on the other two.
Movement at the end of the corridor caught his eyes and he raised the rifle, "Kara." He hissed, getting her attention.
The movement flickered again and Chief Tyrol stepped around the corner, staring at them. "Whoa! Friendlies!"
"I'm not so sure about that," Kara muttered.
Sergeant Hadrian and a squad of marines appeared as well. She eyed them, "It appears we're all friendlies here, sir."
Lowering his gun, Sam felt relief fill him. Marines would watch their back now. He sagged suddenly, wondering just when his body had decided it was time to sleep.
Reaching out, he grabbed Kara to steady himself.
In reflex, she elbowed him.
"Ow." He sucked in a breath and started coughing, losing his balance as he doubled over, pain shooting across his chest.
"Sam, you idiot--" Kara pivoted into him, holding him steady. "You're too heavy."
"Whoa, Anders." Chief appeared on his other side, propping him up. "No collapsing until we get you to Doc."
"Yeah," he wheezed, "I'll try."
"Sir?" The word was tossed over Chief's shoulder towards the Admiral.
"Hadrian, detail two men to go with them to medical. The rest come with me."
Sam closed his eyes as they started walking again, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. And not falling over. Falling over could be bad.
-=-
"Madame President."
"Admiral Adama." She felt herself relax, and hated it. "It's good to hear your voice."
"And yours. I'm calling to inform you that the situation has been dealt with."
How very formal of him. Laura half-smiled, "Thank you, Admiral. I've been considering what to tell the press about this--"
"Nothing."
She almost laughed. Suddenly, it was two years before, and he was the hard military man she didn't really understand who didn't understand her. Fine, though, if that's what he wanted. "Admiral, I'm afraid we can't keep this from the people. They need to know that there's a dangerous element that wants peace with the cylons."
"If you tell them, it will just allow more of them to identify with each other."
Laura rolled her eyes, and changed the subject. "Admiral, how are Sam Anders and Captain Thrace?"
"Recovering."
"From what?"
"I'm afraid that is classified, Madame President." He paused, "If you've no more use for Lieutenant Agathon, I could use her back here aboard Galactica."
"All right. I'll send her home. Goodbye." Hanging up on him gave her some measure of control.
It was petty, but it was better than letting him hang up on her.
"He's all right?"
Looking up at Sharon, she smiled at her, "All three appear to be fine. And he's requested your return."
Sharon bounced to her feet. "Thank you, Madame President." She turned and headed for the doorway.
"Wait, Lieutenant."
"Sir?"
"Take this box back with you. I'm sure they'll want to analyze it."
For a moment, Sharon looked like she wanted to refuse, her eyes drawn to the box and its contents. Then she seemed to shake herself, "Sorry, Madame President, I should have thought of that."
"It's all right." Laura could understand her reluctance to have it near her. "Be careful with it."
"Yes, sir." was her reply as she picked the box up carefully and then left.
-=-
"Explain yourself, Chief."
Galen almost wanted to pace. But he fought the action and met the Admiral's eyes. "Sir, it seems... Well, it seems stupid now. But I thought, if Captain Thrace were happy she wouldn't be so suicidal and my planes wouldn't come back bruised or broken, sir."
Gods, it sounded stupid. What the hell had he been thinking?
Adama blinked at him, then nodded. "You were doing what you could to improve the morale of a member of your crew."
"Something like that, sir," Tyrol could feel the slight flush in his cheeks. Damnit, he felt like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "I just thought... he went through so much, sir, and she's just shutting him out. It didn't seem right."
"You can't take personal matters into your own hands, Chief."
"I know, sir. There's no excuse." He dropped his gaze, unable to keep meeting the Admiral's eyes.
"Sir!" Gaeta was suddenly there, "marines report that Captain Paladino took his own life before they could question him."
"Damn."
"I should, ah, get back to the deck," suggested Tyrol, slightly hopeful. At least there, the old man couldn't glare at him.
"Chief." It was just one word, but it was more than enough. Warning and reprimand both.
Nodding, Galen saluted. "I'll get back to work, sir."
"You do that, Chief. And if you come up with any ideas on improving the morale of your fellow crew members, run them past me first."
"Yessir."
-=-
Karen had found it ridiculously easy to avoid the marines hunting for her. At least, she assumed they were looking for her. With Brother Marlon and most of his men dead, there really wasn't anyone else to find. It was even easier to get into the infirmary. Fading into the background, she'd watched for a while as they patched Sam Anders up. Taping his ribs, swabbing his cuts.
Through it all, his wife had remained, mocking him. Calling him an idiot and a dumbass and a moron. He'd mostly seemed to ignore her.
It was odd to think that this man who was so obviously loved was the man who'd allowed people to immolate themselves for his cause. Who'd sent suicide bombers against the New Caprican refugees and the cylons alike. But then, she had to remember that sometimes, evil could seem to be a great good.
Then everyone seemed done with their jobs and they all drifted away. The marines walked right by Karen without even noticing her, and she wondered how easy it would be to take them out. And didn't bother, since they weren't her target. Even Kara Thrace walked away from his bedside.
Karen waited another few minutes to be certain and then she left her hiding place and walked to the bed. Her knife was already out, the blood from Brother Marlon still staining it dark.
It would take only a moment. Shove the knife into his chest and twist, as she had with the man who'd proved to be a coward.
A hand fisted in her hair and jerked her backwards, another wrapped around her wrist and yanked her arm behind her back. The pain made her gasp.
"Didja think I'd forget?" Kara Thrace's voice was full of anger. "I was waiting for you, you stupid bitch."
Karen struggled, her own hatred making her stronger than the pilot expected. She broke free and turned, knife out. "I'll just do you both."
A chair smashed into her shoulder and head.
Starbuck grabbed her, knocking the knife from her hand and punching her in the gut. "Get back in bed, Samuel."
Throwing herself at Starbuck, Karen fought past the pain and grappled with the woman. She scratched and bit, trying to do as much damage before the other woman could subdue her.
"Ow! Shit!" The onslaught took Starbuck by surprise, and for an instant, Karen had the upper hand.
Then Starbuck smashed a fist into her jaw, and Karen's head whipped back. Another punch and another, and suddenly, she remembered the brass knuckles. But it was too late to put them on. Even getting her hands up to defend herself was futile as Starbuck battered away at her.
Next time, Karen thought fuzzily as Starbuck's hands swung her around and into the wall, she would remember the knuckles.
Everything went sideways and she fell into the dark to the sound of Sam Anders mocking his wife's boxing technique.
-=-
"Report, sergeant."
Hadrian almost clicked her heels together as she snapped to attention. Then she held out the carefully-tagged knife. "This is the knife which was used to kill both Brother Marlon and Charlie Connors. It was found on the woman who attempted to murder Samuel Anders and his wife. The woman's name is Karen Szarda. She was one of the people apparently suspected by the circle of being involved in cylon activities. Given the statements taken from Kara Thrace and Samuel Anders, she held a grudge against the resistance for the suicide bombings, one of which killed her lover, Sean McIntyre."
"And Brother Marlon?"
"From his notes, we've found that he blames Laura Roslin for the destruction of his faith in the gods. We've rounded up two more of his accomplices, but the last two are still eluding us."
"Paladino?"
"The note he left indicates that he still felt responsible for the civilians killed on his watch, and he thought this would make a difference. When he realized it hadn't, he took his own life rather than face court-martial."
Adama sighed. "Tell me good news, sergeant."
"Popular opinion is high for the military." Really, it was all she could offer.
-=-
Kara stood with her arms crossed over her chest and watched Sam sleep. It was stupid, sticking around. He'd made it clear he didn't love her anymore, and she'd pushed him away. And yet... It was easier to push him away. Easier to not deal with the complication of him. For four months, she'd expected him to come and save her and all of the time that she was stuck with Leoben, he'd been doing something far bigger than just trying to rescue his wife. It pissed her off that he wasn't as selfish as she was. That he could just walk away from what they'd had when things got rough.
Having to listen to him take that beating had been hard. She shoved the memories away, knowing they reminded her of sitting down to dinner with Leoben night after night. The same sense of futility that had her fingering fork tines had made Sam dare the woman to shoot him.
That she hadn't was something Kara wouldn't understand. In her position, with all of that anger, she would have pulled the trigger.
And Sam Anders would be dead.
A shiver worked its way through her and she yawned, irritated. Adama had posted several marines outside the infirmary in case more of the insurgents tried something. Sam would be safe. She could go back to her rack and work on putting him out of her life again.
It wouldn't be easy, but it was the safe route. The one that wouldn't hurt so much.
All she had to do was leave.
Her boots made heavy sounds when she finally moved, arms dropping to her sides. The side of the bed stopped her and she poked Sam. "Move over."
A groan escaped him and one eye opened. "Kara?" He sounded confused.
"Move over. I'm cold and tired."
He blinked and then said, "Take your boots off, first."
While he was wriggling over carefully, cursing every so often, Kara dealt with her boots, leaving them at the foot of the bed and wrinkling her nose at the socks on her feet. "Demanding man."
"Boots do not belong in bed," he replied firmly, raising the blankets for her.
Kara scrambled into the space he'd made, cursing the size of the bed. Her legs and feet ended up tangled with his, and for a moment she thought she'd fall off before his arm snaked around her, tucking her against his side. Then she couldn't figure out what to do with her own arm and ended up draping it over his chest.
"Ow."
"Wimp." But she moved the arm lower and settled her head on his shoulder.
He grunted.
Yeah. She could have taken the easy way and walked out. But since when had Starbuck ever taken the easy way?
-f-
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Also, I love you for always mentioning Billy. Like, deep, abiding love.
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Thank you =)
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I get to write him again! There will be tea.
Also, Tory isn't bad. I just. MAN. I MISS YOU BILLY.
*hugs Dad* He is so cute and badass.
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Tory brings a different element to things. She's harder-edged than Billy, she has more experience... I'm kind of wondering what it would be like if Roslin had had both of them helping her run the re-election campaign.
plus, I think Billy would have gotten her the win without teh cheating. OMG. That's why he had to die!no subject
She really does. I think someone pointed out recently that Billy is the one who keeps Mom sane and on target and is the ideal while Tory runs everything else. I also think Billy would have been the bug in her ear from day one that would have been all "You can't even consider it. Work harder in other areas, but you can't."
BILLY WAS THE FUCKING IDEAL OF HUMANITY I FUCKING HATE YOU RON MOORE.
And wish Paul Campbell quite well and he should come hang out with me and maybe makeout with me.no subject
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Kara/Anders 4EVAH
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*cackles*
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Much love!
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Thank you =)
(I need to make a chart of my fanon--like the part where Sam and Kara were at Helo and Athena's wedding. And, the part where they don't actually remember getting married because they were a little drunk--Sam and Kara, that is. And Ellen and Saul were at their wedding, and Dad officiated, and Helo mocked her when he toasted them and... yeah. er. *stops*)
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Thank you =)
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Thank you! I'm so glad you stuck around, though.