NEW: Homecoming (BG2003 Zarek/Roslin adult)
Homecoming
by Exfilia
The president met his eyes for the dozenth time, leaning back against the pillows of her sickbed and holding her cards in front of her face, but Lee suspected that poker wasn't what was on her mind. He groped for some pleasantry to convince her he wasn't deep in depression over his father's condition, but nothing occurred to him.
"You two," he said in desperation, "are holding each other's jacks."
"What makes you think that?" asked Billy. Well, at least he was convinced. The president still looked doubtful, so Lee smirked his best as he replied.
"Never you mind," he said. "How many cards do you want?"
Billy smiled serenely, apparently under the delusion that this constituted a poker face, and exchanged three of his cards for three from the deck. Lee turned to the lady.
"Madame President?"
"I'm fine."
"Okay, but just so you know, Billy has your jacks." He did. Lee could tell from the pattern of their discards. His father had taught him... he bit his lip. Not thinking about his father. Sitting here, playing fracking poker as if nothing were wrong, not thinking about his father. He groped for words, and found only inanity. "I'm going to take you for every pretzel you have," he babbled.
"Be that as it may," the president said gently, "I'll stand."
"Yes, ma'am." Lee took a deep breath, and recovered himself. "What you got, Billy?" he asked.
"Jack-high straight."
"Well," said Apollo, "I was half right, but my flush still beats you. Hand over the pretzels."
"I think not," said the president. "You're right; I do have the jacks." She laid them on the bedspread. "And here are three fives to go with them."
Okay, so at least a part of her mind actually was on poker. Lee wondered why he allowed the president to surprise him anymore.
"You are an evil woman," he said. "And Billy's eating the kitty."
"It's my lunch," Billy mumbled around a mouthful of pretzel.
"Not any more," said the president. Apollo tipped the plate so that all the pretzels slid to her side. She grinned and gave them back to Billy.
"What do you say we raid the galley?" she said.
"Last time we did that," said Apollo, "you couldn't keep anything down for a day and a half. We'll find you some real food."
"If you think the food here is bad, Captain, you've obviously forgotten school cafeterias. It wasn't the food that made me ill. It was Playa Palacios whimpering over poor lost Dr. Baltar."
Apollo rolled his eyes.
"Who's this?" The cabin door had opened and Tom Zarek stood in it, smiling at them.
"The blond reporter that chases anything in pants," the president told him. "Hasn't she hit on you yet?"
"Dunno," said Zarek. "I don't notice little girls flirting."
"Nice try," said the president, but she permitted him to kiss her. Lee fought the urge to retreat to his own quarters. His parents had never shown any affection in front of their children. Of course as far as he could tell they hadn't shown much when he and Zak weren't around, either. In any case, he found the president's tolerance of Zarek's displays difficult to stomach. Billy apparently found it more than difficult. He was staring at his hands, looking as if he'd bitten into a spoiled pretzel. Zarek ignored him.
"Our sources on Galactica have accessed the medical records computer," he said, "and obtained a copy of Commander Adama's physician's notes."
Days of frustration boiled up, and Lee felt his hands curl into fists.
"You stole my father's medical records?"
The president prodded Lee with her blanket-covered foot, and Billy moved from between him and Zarek.
"Yes," he said, "we did, in fact, steal your father's medical records. Would you like to know how he is?"
"How would you know?" asked Billy. "It's just technical data." Lee wanted to crow, not the least because Billy had suddenly developed a perfectly unflappable poker face.
"Our physicians spent a couple of hours going over it," Zarek said. "They're fairly sure of their conclusions."
Billy didn't let him get away with it. Maybe he couldn't play poker, but he was a first-rate diplomat.
"We," he said, "evacuated the physician with the rest of the crew when you people hijacked this ship."
Okay, maybe diplomat was not quite the word.
"You evacuated the government medic," Zarek told him. "You left behind twelve doctors that were here for prescribing medication under suspicious circumstances or working in areas where they weren't licensed or whatever. There are two world-class plastic surgeons who used to give people new faces. And for the record," he said to Lee, "they all say your father's condition has stabilized, and that his prognosis is reasonably good."
Apollo shook his head. He was not going to owe this man a favor. Zarek hadn't had those records stolen for Lee's piece of mind. He'd needed to know for his own purposes, that was all.
"Why," said the president, "do I feel like you've probably got a cadre of ace Viper pilots down in the cells somewhere?"
"Not yet," said Tom, "but if you and your 'Apollo' will walk up to the comm center with me, we can probably start training very soon."
"How so?"
"We've got a blip on long-range sensors. It jumped in a ways away, and it's closing slowly."
Lee felt a grin plaster itself across his face.
"Starbuck," he said.
Zarek grinned back at him, and Lee cursed his own weakness.
"It could be Starbuck," he corrected himself. It could also be a Cylon scout presaging death for them all. Nothing to get excited about, Lee. Nothing you're glad to hear.
"Let's hope so," Zarek said.
"She can't land on Galactica," said the president. "She'll be arrested, and... and we can't allow that to happen."
"Then come make sure it doesn't," said Zarek, "and you two come out of here and let her get dressed."
"Let me talk to Kara," Lee said. Gods, she didn't know about the coup, she didn't know about his father, she didn't know anything. How were they going to convince her that the Astral Queen was a healthy place to be? Still, he had to try. "I can get her to come in."
"You probably could talk her into it," Zarek told him, "but my contacts on Galactica say that to cover the young lady's backside, the order needs to come from someone who ranks anyone on the battlestar. That," he said, throwing a bathrobe at the president, "means you."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Cylon ship was as ragged as when she'd first flown it. Kara told herself that she'd sic Chief Tyrol on it, then remembered that she was unlikely to be giving any orders at all after this little joyride. Oh, well. She'd always known she'd die either in the cockpit or the brig. She touched the bundle beside her seat, rough blanket fabric wrapped around the Arrow of Apollo, and prayed that it was worth it.
"Starbuck, this is Colonial One," said a scratchy voice from her helmet speaker, an unfamiliar scratchy voice. She thought for a moment, then pressed the send switch with her chin.
"This is Starbuck. Go ahead, Colonial One."
"Welcome home, Starbuck. Stand by for President Roslin."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"What do I tell her?" Laura asked the Adama boy.
"Aft landing bay," Tom replied for him. "We can explain later."
"Starbuck's not really good at obeying orders out of the blue," said young Adama with just a trace of challenge in his stance. Tom almost laughed at him.
"Madame President?" Billy pointed to the mike, defusing the miniature confrontation. "Lieutenant Thrace is waiting."
"Right." She took the microphone and pressed its switch. "Welcome home, lieutenant. Please meet us in the aft landing bay on Colonial One."
There was a moment of silence.
"Colonial One only has one landing bay, ma'am." she said. Brilliant. Her guard was up already. The Commander's son took the microphone.
"Starbuck, Apollo. Not 798; you are ordered to land on the Astral Queen."
"Say again, Apollo?"
"Position for approach to the aft landing bay on the Astral Queen."
There was a momentary silence, and then Thrace's voice crackling from the speakers.
"Galactica, Starbuck. Request permission to speak to Galactica actual."
Tigh's voice answered instantly.
"This is Galactica actual. Go ahead, Starbuck."
There was another silence. Finally young Adama thumbed the mike's switch again.
"Starbuck, Apollo. My father has been shot by a Cylon infiltrator. You need to come in here so we can talk about this."
Tom nudged Laura's shoulder.
"Use the 'O' word," he whispered. She took the microphone.
"Lieutenant," she said, "you are ordered to land on the Astral Queen."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He watched their reflection in the ops display, Tigh almost apoplectic and Gaeta speaking to him in low, reasoned tones. He almost believed that the Colonel might start chewing on inanimate objects at any time. Still, better that than animate ones. He heard the president's voice, and recognized the ploy. Gaeta shook his head and whispered, and Tigh closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he squeezed the handset.
"Starbuck," he said, "Galactica. You have your orders."
Then he threw the microphone across the console and stalked off the bridge.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Astral Queen had a landing bay. Who knew? She guided the Cylon ship to a perfect three-point landing. Let the convicts gawk at that.
Gawkers, though, were in short supply. The president was there, leaning on Billy Keikeya's arm. Lee was there, striding across the bay to play deck crew and help her out of the flying toaster. And, of course, standing in the shadows behind the president, the terrorist was there. Gods, why couldn't she have got off a shot at Zarek when she was here before?
"Don't growl at the nice man..." Lee began.
"He's not nice."
Lee fiddled with the seal on her helmet, making time for them to talk. "My father staged a military coup. The president was arrested and confined in Galactica's brig. Zarek's crew busted us out."
"What were you doing in the brig?"
"I was with the president."
"Ohh-kaaay.... You said the boss was shot?"
"We don't hear much, here. He was shot twice. It looked bad, but then I got hauled off to the brig."
"A Cylon infiltrator made it to the bridge?"
"It was Sharon."
"Boomer?"
"Yeah."
"Frak me."
"Are you okay? You're banged up."
"I'm fine. What's he doing over there?"
"Teasing the president."
"Teasing...?"
"Remember Colonial Day?"
"Oh, she's not!"
"She's... Kara, she's not feeling well."
"So he's not bothering her?"
"Oh, yeah. Billy and I have the cabin across the corridor, and we can still hear the headboard hitting the bulkhead."
"Just a little too much information, there, Captain. We should go. He'll get suspicious."
"Kara, he knows. He's letting me talk to you, okay?"
"No, not okay. All four of us should pile into this flying coffin and get the hell out of here right now!"
"And go where? If Colonel Tigh decides to have us all arrested, where else in the fleet would we be safe? Kara, she almost died in that cell, and I was all the way across the brig and I could see but all I could do was watch. You do what you want to do, but I'm not taking her back there!"
"She's sick, and he's exploiting her?"
"He takes care of her. He pretends he really cares."
"We'll see about that."
"Yeah. Did you get what you went for?"
"You want me to whip it out in front of him?"
"I keep telling you: he knows. He has to know. Our only transportation is...."
"And I keep telling you, we should all get in Chromedome here and blow this joint."
"Chromedome?"
"You're defending the president for banging a murderer and you want to laugh at my ship's name?"
"Kara, if he can make this easier on her...."
"I bet he'd love to make things easier."
"Okay, you don't like it. I get that. She's not going to leave him while the military is a threat to her administration. You have a choice. Are you staying or going?"
"Oh," she said, "you'd better believe I'm staying." She reached back into the fighter, retrieved the bundle and jumped down to the deck.
The End
by Exfilia
The president met his eyes for the dozenth time, leaning back against the pillows of her sickbed and holding her cards in front of her face, but Lee suspected that poker wasn't what was on her mind. He groped for some pleasantry to convince her he wasn't deep in depression over his father's condition, but nothing occurred to him.
"You two," he said in desperation, "are holding each other's jacks."
"What makes you think that?" asked Billy. Well, at least he was convinced. The president still looked doubtful, so Lee smirked his best as he replied.
"Never you mind," he said. "How many cards do you want?"
Billy smiled serenely, apparently under the delusion that this constituted a poker face, and exchanged three of his cards for three from the deck. Lee turned to the lady.
"Madame President?"
"I'm fine."
"Okay, but just so you know, Billy has your jacks." He did. Lee could tell from the pattern of their discards. His father had taught him... he bit his lip. Not thinking about his father. Sitting here, playing fracking poker as if nothing were wrong, not thinking about his father. He groped for words, and found only inanity. "I'm going to take you for every pretzel you have," he babbled.
"Be that as it may," the president said gently, "I'll stand."
"Yes, ma'am." Lee took a deep breath, and recovered himself. "What you got, Billy?" he asked.
"Jack-high straight."
"Well," said Apollo, "I was half right, but my flush still beats you. Hand over the pretzels."
"I think not," said the president. "You're right; I do have the jacks." She laid them on the bedspread. "And here are three fives to go with them."
Okay, so at least a part of her mind actually was on poker. Lee wondered why he allowed the president to surprise him anymore.
"You are an evil woman," he said. "And Billy's eating the kitty."
"It's my lunch," Billy mumbled around a mouthful of pretzel.
"Not any more," said the president. Apollo tipped the plate so that all the pretzels slid to her side. She grinned and gave them back to Billy.
"What do you say we raid the galley?" she said.
"Last time we did that," said Apollo, "you couldn't keep anything down for a day and a half. We'll find you some real food."
"If you think the food here is bad, Captain, you've obviously forgotten school cafeterias. It wasn't the food that made me ill. It was Playa Palacios whimpering over poor lost Dr. Baltar."
Apollo rolled his eyes.
"Who's this?" The cabin door had opened and Tom Zarek stood in it, smiling at them.
"The blond reporter that chases anything in pants," the president told him. "Hasn't she hit on you yet?"
"Dunno," said Zarek. "I don't notice little girls flirting."
"Nice try," said the president, but she permitted him to kiss her. Lee fought the urge to retreat to his own quarters. His parents had never shown any affection in front of their children. Of course as far as he could tell they hadn't shown much when he and Zak weren't around, either. In any case, he found the president's tolerance of Zarek's displays difficult to stomach. Billy apparently found it more than difficult. He was staring at his hands, looking as if he'd bitten into a spoiled pretzel. Zarek ignored him.
"Our sources on Galactica have accessed the medical records computer," he said, "and obtained a copy of Commander Adama's physician's notes."
Days of frustration boiled up, and Lee felt his hands curl into fists.
"You stole my father's medical records?"
The president prodded Lee with her blanket-covered foot, and Billy moved from between him and Zarek.
"Yes," he said, "we did, in fact, steal your father's medical records. Would you like to know how he is?"
"How would you know?" asked Billy. "It's just technical data." Lee wanted to crow, not the least because Billy had suddenly developed a perfectly unflappable poker face.
"Our physicians spent a couple of hours going over it," Zarek said. "They're fairly sure of their conclusions."
Billy didn't let him get away with it. Maybe he couldn't play poker, but he was a first-rate diplomat.
"We," he said, "evacuated the physician with the rest of the crew when you people hijacked this ship."
Okay, maybe diplomat was not quite the word.
"You evacuated the government medic," Zarek told him. "You left behind twelve doctors that were here for prescribing medication under suspicious circumstances or working in areas where they weren't licensed or whatever. There are two world-class plastic surgeons who used to give people new faces. And for the record," he said to Lee, "they all say your father's condition has stabilized, and that his prognosis is reasonably good."
Apollo shook his head. He was not going to owe this man a favor. Zarek hadn't had those records stolen for Lee's piece of mind. He'd needed to know for his own purposes, that was all.
"Why," said the president, "do I feel like you've probably got a cadre of ace Viper pilots down in the cells somewhere?"
"Not yet," said Tom, "but if you and your 'Apollo' will walk up to the comm center with me, we can probably start training very soon."
"How so?"
"We've got a blip on long-range sensors. It jumped in a ways away, and it's closing slowly."
Lee felt a grin plaster itself across his face.
"Starbuck," he said.
Zarek grinned back at him, and Lee cursed his own weakness.
"It could be Starbuck," he corrected himself. It could also be a Cylon scout presaging death for them all. Nothing to get excited about, Lee. Nothing you're glad to hear.
"Let's hope so," Zarek said.
"She can't land on Galactica," said the president. "She'll be arrested, and... and we can't allow that to happen."
"Then come make sure it doesn't," said Zarek, "and you two come out of here and let her get dressed."
"Let me talk to Kara," Lee said. Gods, she didn't know about the coup, she didn't know about his father, she didn't know anything. How were they going to convince her that the Astral Queen was a healthy place to be? Still, he had to try. "I can get her to come in."
"You probably could talk her into it," Zarek told him, "but my contacts on Galactica say that to cover the young lady's backside, the order needs to come from someone who ranks anyone on the battlestar. That," he said, throwing a bathrobe at the president, "means you."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Cylon ship was as ragged as when she'd first flown it. Kara told herself that she'd sic Chief Tyrol on it, then remembered that she was unlikely to be giving any orders at all after this little joyride. Oh, well. She'd always known she'd die either in the cockpit or the brig. She touched the bundle beside her seat, rough blanket fabric wrapped around the Arrow of Apollo, and prayed that it was worth it.
"Starbuck, this is Colonial One," said a scratchy voice from her helmet speaker, an unfamiliar scratchy voice. She thought for a moment, then pressed the send switch with her chin.
"This is Starbuck. Go ahead, Colonial One."
"Welcome home, Starbuck. Stand by for President Roslin."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"What do I tell her?" Laura asked the Adama boy.
"Aft landing bay," Tom replied for him. "We can explain later."
"Starbuck's not really good at obeying orders out of the blue," said young Adama with just a trace of challenge in his stance. Tom almost laughed at him.
"Madame President?" Billy pointed to the mike, defusing the miniature confrontation. "Lieutenant Thrace is waiting."
"Right." She took the microphone and pressed its switch. "Welcome home, lieutenant. Please meet us in the aft landing bay on Colonial One."
There was a moment of silence.
"Colonial One only has one landing bay, ma'am." she said. Brilliant. Her guard was up already. The Commander's son took the microphone.
"Starbuck, Apollo. Not 798; you are ordered to land on the Astral Queen."
"Say again, Apollo?"
"Position for approach to the aft landing bay on the Astral Queen."
There was a momentary silence, and then Thrace's voice crackling from the speakers.
"Galactica, Starbuck. Request permission to speak to Galactica actual."
Tigh's voice answered instantly.
"This is Galactica actual. Go ahead, Starbuck."
There was another silence. Finally young Adama thumbed the mike's switch again.
"Starbuck, Apollo. My father has been shot by a Cylon infiltrator. You need to come in here so we can talk about this."
Tom nudged Laura's shoulder.
"Use the 'O' word," he whispered. She took the microphone.
"Lieutenant," she said, "you are ordered to land on the Astral Queen."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He watched their reflection in the ops display, Tigh almost apoplectic and Gaeta speaking to him in low, reasoned tones. He almost believed that the Colonel might start chewing on inanimate objects at any time. Still, better that than animate ones. He heard the president's voice, and recognized the ploy. Gaeta shook his head and whispered, and Tigh closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he squeezed the handset.
"Starbuck," he said, "Galactica. You have your orders."
Then he threw the microphone across the console and stalked off the bridge.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Astral Queen had a landing bay. Who knew? She guided the Cylon ship to a perfect three-point landing. Let the convicts gawk at that.
Gawkers, though, were in short supply. The president was there, leaning on Billy Keikeya's arm. Lee was there, striding across the bay to play deck crew and help her out of the flying toaster. And, of course, standing in the shadows behind the president, the terrorist was there. Gods, why couldn't she have got off a shot at Zarek when she was here before?
"Don't growl at the nice man..." Lee began.
"He's not nice."
Lee fiddled with the seal on her helmet, making time for them to talk. "My father staged a military coup. The president was arrested and confined in Galactica's brig. Zarek's crew busted us out."
"What were you doing in the brig?"
"I was with the president."
"Ohh-kaaay.... You said the boss was shot?"
"We don't hear much, here. He was shot twice. It looked bad, but then I got hauled off to the brig."
"A Cylon infiltrator made it to the bridge?"
"It was Sharon."
"Boomer?"
"Yeah."
"Frak me."
"Are you okay? You're banged up."
"I'm fine. What's he doing over there?"
"Teasing the president."
"Teasing...?"
"Remember Colonial Day?"
"Oh, she's not!"
"She's... Kara, she's not feeling well."
"So he's not bothering her?"
"Oh, yeah. Billy and I have the cabin across the corridor, and we can still hear the headboard hitting the bulkhead."
"Just a little too much information, there, Captain. We should go. He'll get suspicious."
"Kara, he knows. He's letting me talk to you, okay?"
"No, not okay. All four of us should pile into this flying coffin and get the hell out of here right now!"
"And go where? If Colonel Tigh decides to have us all arrested, where else in the fleet would we be safe? Kara, she almost died in that cell, and I was all the way across the brig and I could see but all I could do was watch. You do what you want to do, but I'm not taking her back there!"
"She's sick, and he's exploiting her?"
"He takes care of her. He pretends he really cares."
"We'll see about that."
"Yeah. Did you get what you went for?"
"You want me to whip it out in front of him?"
"I keep telling you: he knows. He has to know. Our only transportation is...."
"And I keep telling you, we should all get in Chromedome here and blow this joint."
"Chromedome?"
"You're defending the president for banging a murderer and you want to laugh at my ship's name?"
"Kara, if he can make this easier on her...."
"I bet he'd love to make things easier."
"Okay, you don't like it. I get that. She's not going to leave him while the military is a threat to her administration. You have a choice. Are you staying or going?"
"Oh," she said, "you'd better believe I'm staying." She reached back into the fighter, retrieved the bundle and jumped down to the deck.
The End