Wounded Wing Chapter 117 Percussions - part 1 of 2
Chapter 117 Percussions - part 1 of 2
As Lee Adama left Kara behind in his prior quarters, his thoughts were chaotic. And he realized he still hadn’t removed his stuff and would need to return later for it. Perhaps after he’d had a chance to run his idea by his father.
Dodging around a crewmember that was servicing one of the hall’s lights, Lee’s pace slowed as he replayed the revelations of the past hours. He’d been both pissed and concerned when he’d followed Kara from the refugee camp. She’d seen him. He knew she had, yet she’d purposefully chosen to avoid him once again. This dance of theirs reminded him of something he’d once seen in a wild Caprican night club where people moved to the heavy beat, throwing themselves at others only to carom away again after each impact. This similar feeling that he was making progress with Kara only to have her recoil off onto another trajectory was so damned frustrating! Sure, he knew she was dealing with massive issues. As Lee had told her, he didn’t need any special training to see how she was still reeling from all the frakked up things that had happened to her this past year. Why couldn’t she understand that he just wanted to be there for her. Help her?
As guilt twisted his expression into a grimace, Lee stepped into a side corridor and stopped to draw a shaky breath.
Face it, it’s not as if I haven’t given her plenty of reason to doubt.
He knuckled his hands into fists as memories of the times he’d failed Kara flashed to mind. Why was he surprised that she had dismissed his father’s hitting her as unimportant? Hadn’t he chosen to push her into an exchange of blows…more than once even? And that wasn’t taking into account her abusive childhood-the thought of which still made Lee want to smash something. And while it was true that Kara had caused her own share of emotional damage in this dysfunctional relationship of theirs, Lee couldn’t ignore the verbal lashes he’d delivered over the years.
Fact was, he knew Kara was scared. It must seem that opening up her heart to another was the surest way to invite it to be carved out. He could certainly relate to that! A surge of anger at Kara stung him and Lee leaned back against the solid wall and fought it off. Things could have been-would have been-different if she hadn’t run after their night together on New Caprica. And that knowledge still spurred a bitterness he had yet to fully master. In the wake of her breakdown, though, he’d had far too much time to struggle with it and his self-disgust at his own behavior. He liked to believe that he’d grown up a lot since then; yet there were still times when the ugly emotions reared their heads and caught him unprepared.
Like now.
Purposefully, he thumped his head back against the metal wall behind him, seeking to dislodge the resentment he felt at Kara’s always having to make things so damned difficult.
He straightened then. This wasn’t getting him anywhere.
Resuming his course, Lee approached the Admiral’s quarters, only to find them empty. Changing direction, he set off for CIC. Yet, on entering and surveying the command center, he discovered that his father wasn’t here either. Gaeta appeared to have the watch. Just great, Lee sourly thought, having rather avoided the junior officer after their last confrontation. Reluctantly deciding that it would be ridiculous to wander Galactica looking for his dad when all he had to do was ask, Lee strode forward.
Giving the man a nod in greeting, “I’m looking for the Admiral,” he said, taking note of the hard glint in the dark eyes as they met his.
“He’s meeting with the President and gave orders not to be disturbed.”
Lee frowned at the innuendo in Gaeta’s tone and choice of words. Had the man really meant to imply what he had? Not that Lee was blind to the shift in the two leaders’ relationship since Kara’s supposed death. It was true, that at first, he’d been too lost in his own grief to notice how Laura had made a point of being there for his father in the weeks after. Regardless of what might or might not be going on between the pair, that was their business. Most certainly not some jumped-up staff officer with an attitude problems.
Narrowing his gaze at the near-insolence of the Lieutenant’s statement, Lee debated a reprimand. A sweeping glance of the other personnel in CIC convinced him otherwise and he held his tongue as the many heads quickly ducked back to whatever tasks they’d been doing before his entrance.
It dawned on Lee then that he didn’t really have any official authority anymore. As much as he disliked the notion, he’d have to let Gaeta’s insubordinate remark drop.
“Tell the Admiral that I need to speak with him as soon as possible,” Lee said, making the effort to keep the censure from his voice.
“I’ll pass the message along,” replied Gaeta and again there was an undertone of disrespect that made Lee wonder if his request would be conveniently forgotten. Delayed maybe, he decided, but he doubted that the man would dare to go so far as to risk a formal reprimand if Lee brought the matter before the Admiral.
Leaving the murmur of CIC behind, Lee made his way aft. He had skipped breakfast and his stomach was reminding him of that fact. And given that he was going to have to wait to speak with his dad, and was currently at loose ends for any duties, Lee decided to grab a bite from the mess.
A few crewmembers exchanged greetings with him as he took his allotted morning serving and then settled at a corner table by himself. He wasn’t looking for conversation. What he needed was time to consider all he’d learned from Kara, and come up with a strategy on dealing with her. This obsession with Earth he could at least understand. The revelation of her feelings towards Leoben, though…that had come as an unpleasant shock. It had been a relief to learn that the Cylons hadn’t harmed her further while she’d been held on the basestar, but that had quickly given way to dismay once she admitted not wanting the Two dead. Sure, he’d known that she still had issues with the Cylon male, but her apparent conflicting emotions for her captor had made him pause.
Forcing himself to take a step back, Lee had recalled his time in War College. The bonding of prisoner and captor wasn’t particularly common, but it was well documented. And from all Lee had heard since, Leoben was just the sort of manipulative bastard to purposefully set out to foster that sort of connection. He’d had Kara so twisted around that she obviously believed that her feelings were real.
Who am I to say they aren’t.
Stabbing a pseudo-sausage, Lee grimly chewed it, oblivious to the odd texture and taste. Then he shoveled a bite of what passed for hash into his mouth, and then another, suddenly in a hurry to finish the meal. He needed to get down to the hanger deck. Somewhere-probably still on the Heavy Raider-the cartridge with Leoben’s last download was waiting. Since he couldn’t get his hands on the Cylon directly, Lee decided he’d have to settle for smashing the repository of the that Two’s essence.
Lee rose even as he swallowed his last bite.
He left the now-empty tray on the table behind him for someone else to clean up.
* * * * *
“At ease, Starbuck,” the Admiral said, and Kara relaxed into a parade-rest stance, still uncertain of what she’d walked into and unwilling to let her guard down fully.
“We just have a few questions, Kara,” Laura’s smile looked strained as she continued, “and thought you might be able to help us.”
More questions. Why wasn’t she surprised.
Hiding a grimace, Kara studied the two people that could supply her with a ship to continue the search for Earth, and the same ones that seemed determined to disregard her claims of having found it in the first place. A quick scrutiny of Laura was enough to see that the woman’s cancer treatment was already taking a toll. Roslin looked even paler now than when Kara had seen her in sickbay just the day before.
And the Admiral…
As her gaze met his, Kara thought she saw a flicker of-pity? sorrow?-in his eyes. Her unease ratcheted up another notch.
“Your personnel records,” Roslin brought a file up from her lap and set it on the table in front of her, “state that you were born on Caprica?” At Laura’s look, Kara nodded in confirmation. “And your father was a musician while your mother was in the Colonial Marines?”
“Yeah, so?”
Kara couldn’t see where this was going. She figured the Old Man had to know her file front to back by now. She doubted there was anything it held that would come as a surprise to either of the Fleet’s two leaders. So why was the President suddenly so interested in her background? Her eyes narrowed on a suspicion. Perhaps Roslin had been scouring her history for any discrepancies that might prove that Kara was a Cylon plant.
Are they back to me being a frakkin’ Toaster?
She waited. Let them ask, she didn’t have anything to hide.
“It says here,” with her index finger, Roslin tapped the topmost page, “that your mother’s name was Socrata Thrace?”
She started to nod when a sound from the Colonel made her glance his way. He was staring at her now as if searching for something. Kara’s gaze quickly shifted back to Laura as the President repeated her question, asking for her to also verify her date of birth.
More bewildered than ever, Kara answered, only to turned again to Tigh as the scrape of a chair and a disbelieving grunt immediately followed as the man rose to his feet.
“My Gods! You’re Socrata’s daughter?!”
As Tigh’s incredulous statement registered, Kara frowned. What was the XO’s frakking issue now.
“And yours, Saul,” rasped Adama.
The Admiral’s words didn’t make sense, and as her eyes shot back to him, she again saw the flash of pity in his expression.
What the-
“Holy frakkin’ hell.”
As the Colonel’s exclamation broke past her own silent curse, Kara’s gaze was yanked around and she saw how the man’s one good eye had widened to the point that the white showed. Shock had raised both of his thinning eyebrows high on his forehead, and he looked like someone had just shot him.
A growing sense of apprehension thinned Kara’s lips into a scowl. And she blinked, perplexed by Tigh’s reaction and still at a loss over what they were talking about, Kara twisted to face the two at the table. Her eyes flicked between them, trying to piece together what they were getting at. Attempting to make some sense out of what had been said.
“Kara,” Adama said her name softly, yet she tensed as if he’d snapped at her. “Listen to me. The Doc ran some tests… Your DNA… Saul’s.” She was already shaking her head, “He’s your biological father, Kara.”
She waited, gaze fixed to Adama’s.
Waited for the Admiral to crack a grin.
Waited for the Old Man to let out a guffaw and then share the joke.
Waited for her father-figure to let out a snort of laughter and say, ‘Gotcha, Starbuck!’
She waited…and a roar slowly built in her head.
“No,” barely a whisper. “No. I don’t…” slightly louder, but still muffled by the white noise reverberating in her ears. She was cold. Why was it suddenly so cold in here? Blinking rapidly, Kara sought to make the puzzle pieces fit, tried to grasp the reality of what he was saying. But there was no reality here. It was impossible.
“No,” she snapped then, her denial vehemently certain this time. “This is bull! I know what you’re trying to do,” sweeping the pair with an accusing glare, “You think the Cylons frakked with my head. Think I’m delusional. That I never found Earth. And you’re frakkin’ afraid that if they,” hitching a thumb to indicate all those beyond the hatch, “hear that I have, then they’ll believe me,” she said, voicing swiftly rising. Focusing her hot gaze on Roslin, she bitterly said, “I trusted you on a vision. A vision!”
Adama slowly rose to lean with palms on the table before him. He caught her furious gaze and held it a moment before speaking.
“You are Saul Tigh’s biological daughter,” he said. “There’s no mistake. No conspiracy to silence you. He and your mother were together for a time on Caprica.”