Fanfic

Songbird by Leonaria

Pre Mini by about 18 months to end of current season SPOILERS included.


I don't own them, by all the Lords of Kobal I wish I did.

Adama/OC


“Private NERO, pull your head out of your ass and get over here.” Katherine cringed, Chief Tyrol was on a rampage again. “We need to get this deck cleared, we have ships landing for this damn ceremony.”
“Yes Chief.” she said. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the public relations tour and ducked down behind the Viper she was working on. GODS she hoped Doral didn't see her. He kept trying to corner her for a “performance.” Some people just can't let someone retire. Fifteen years on stage had been enough. Suddenly she heard a familiar laugh. She peeked over the nose of the Viper and saw them, they were presenting the Viper to the Commander. She remembered the first time she had actually met him.

She stood on the stage with the glare of the spotlights in her eyes, singing and remembering. She had started her career right here on this stage in this little club on Caprica and now that she was nearing the end of it, she had insisted on giving her final concert here. No one knew why she was retiring, the speculations were running rampant in the tabloids. She just smiled when she read them. From KAT, toast of the 12 colonies, one of the most popular singers in colonial history to plain old Private Katherine Nero, boot camp was only a few days away, and none of her fans would believe it. Truth is stranger than fiction sometimes.
The set over she stepped off the stage and into the wings. Her manager stood there, a glass of water in his hands.
“I can't believe you are giving all this up.” He said.
“I told you why, I made a promise.” Kat laughed at the look on his face, he had been giving her fits for weeks about changing her mind. He didn't understand why she wanted to do this.
“There is a gentleman who would like to speak to you, a Bill Adama?”
“Great, send him to my dressing room.” She walked back toward the back of the stage.
She walked into the room, and looked around. Everything was packed except her costume for the final set, she would have to remember to give Megan her bonus. Kat would miss her personal assistant. She sat at the makeup table and started putting on her makeup for the final set. A soft knock on the door made her look up.
“Come in.”
“Mr. Adama” her manager said as he opened the door. A tall man in a military uniform walked into the room.
“Commander” Kat said. “Nice of you to come tonight. My father always admired you.”
“It was an honor to serve with Chief Nero, and it has been my pleasure to listen to your music all these years.” A slight smile creased his scarred face.
She turned around. He looked so uncomfortable standing there.
“I wanted to thank you again Commander for all that you have done to help me with this. I promised my father when he died that I would join the military for at least one enlistment, and you have helped so much with the age waivers and reccomendations. I just hope I can live up to both of your expectations.”
“When do you report for your enlistment? I would be honored if you would allow me to swear you in.”
“Tomorrow morning, at the main Caprica Spaceport. Military portal. I will be going to Picon for training, then into the fleet, and I would be honored if you came.”
Her manager knocked on the door, “5 minutes”
“One more set, and then I am retired.” She laughed.
“Your songs will be missed”

“Private Nero, how are you doing?” His voice snapped her out of her reverie.
“Good sir, and my I say it has been an honor to serve with you.” She snapped a salute.

“And now it is my great pleasure to introduce the last commander of the battlestar Galactica... Commander Adama.” Doral looked smug standing there at the podium.
Commander Adama stands and walks slowly to the podium.

“The Cylon War is long over. Yet we must not forget the reasons why so many were asked to sacrifice so much in the cause of freedom. The values we fought for are still worth preserving today. The cost of wearing the uniform can be high, but... “ He pauses a second and take off his glasses. Katherine recognizes that look, it was the same one she had when she was thinking about her dad. “Sometimes it's too high. You know... we fought the Cylons to save ourselves from extinction, but we never answered the question... why? Why are we as a people worth saving? Look at us. We tell ourselves we're noble, intelligent creatures. Children of the Lords of Kobol. But we'll still let people go to bed hungry because it costs too much to feed the poor... we still commit murder for greed or spite or jealousy...and we visit all of our sins upon our children. We refuse to take responsibility for what we've done.

“Like we did with the Cylons. We decided to play god. Create life. And when that life turned against us, we comforted ourselves in the knowledge that it wasn't really our fault, not really. It was the Cylons that were flawed. But the truth is... we're the flawed creation. We're the ones that tried to manufacture life and make it serve us. But you don't play God and then wipe your hands of what you've created. Sooner or later... the day comes when you can't hide from what you've done anymore. A day of reckoning. “ He looked tired to her, tired and resigned. Her retirement had been something of her choosing, his was forced upon him before he was ready. The rest of the speakers droned on interminally while she thought about what he had said.

Somehow she didn't think of him as old. He was her father's age, but he didn't look it. He stayed in shape. It was rumored on the ship that he could still take anyone in a boxing ring. His eyes while giving that speech were the only part of him that seemed old... old and sad and somehow she wanted to take that saddness away.

Later that evening, she was working late on the flight deck. She heard footsteps behind her. It was The Old Man walking his nightly rounds before sleep. She softly began to sing one of her old songs. He paused and listened. It was a song about unrequited love, the kind that can never be, the kind that hurts but with a sweet ache that you don't ever want to stop. When the song was over, he walked on and she went back to working on the Viper.

Later that night klaxons rang, and his voice came over the air. “We are at War.” She believed him. There was no doubt in her mind. If The Old Man said it, it was fact. His day of reckoning was here.

It was the longest day of her life, getting those old Mark II's out of mothballs, and ready to fly, the Jump to Ragnar station. The commander going missing with that arms dealer, loading munitions until Tyrol sent her to her rack exausted. She lay there, her small idols to the gods in her hands. “Lady Athena and Lady Aphroditie keep him safe, return him to us. We need him, his strength, his wisdom, his leadership.” She slept with her idols in her hands that night.

The next two days were as exausting as the first, loading munitions, the arrival of the refugee ships and Captain Apollo. She was assigned to his Viper as the tech. He had made a mess of it, The Old Man's Viper. It took her two days between munitions loads to get it back in flying shape. Two days of lovingly getting every thing exactly right, and then Starbuck goes and slams it into the back of the landing bay getting on board before the first jump.

And then they just kept coming every 33 minutes, no sleep, she forgot what sleep was. Forgot how it felt to not have sandpaper coating her eyelids, forgot what it felt like to not be rushed. Forgot how to sing. So many things lost in those 234 jumps.

Now she lays in her rack, a few hours of blissful oblivion waiting for her, but she doesn't forget. There are the idols, on the ledge by her mattress. “Thank you Lady Athena and Lady Aphroditie for returning him to us, and for giving him back his son. That was more than we could have hoped for. I know there is a price to pay for answered prayers and whatever that price, I will pay it.” She drifted off to sleep, and the gods answered her prayer. They took their price. She had sung her last song in the quiet night, the stress of the first days of the war took its toll, she lost her singing voice, a silent unmarked casualty to the war.

She woke up and rolled over, nearly falling off her rack again. She would never get used to these small racks. That was one thing she missed from her days of stardom, a big bed. At least they now had enough water that she could get a hot shower before the day began. That explosion up on C deck last night was scary, and chief finding the still wasn't much more fun. At least she hadn't been anywhere near there, she was high enough on his shit list as it was.

“Private Nero, do you mind telling me why you think my flight deck is the appropriate place to hold impromptu concerts?” Tyrol was not happy.

“What impromptu concert, I was just singing while I worked on the viper chief.”

“Less singing, more working. We need these vipers to fly not be lullibied to sleep.” He stormed off.

“However if you really have to sing, use Delta storage locker to practice in, it is quiet and I store my own giter there to practice on, if you can play you can use it.” He said over his sholder.

She snapped out of remembering that just as Cally came in.

“Come on sleepy head we have work to do.” She finished zipping her coveralls while Cally continued. “I hope everything goes ok, what with the cylons looking like us and no one really trusting anyone anymore. We have to stick together right, Cath? Could you believe the Chief is gona fix the project?”

Kat laughed “Chief has it in for me so don't let him know I had anything to do with that project ok.”

The flight deck was abuzz with activity when they arrived, just like every morning, but there was an undercurrent of tension that wasn't there the day before. The Sergeant at Arms was walking around with her clipboard asking questions.

Kat went to work on Starbuck's viper again. That was one pilot who just couldn't come back without something wrong with her plane, yea she was a damn good pilot but the planes took the punishment for it. She hadn't been working an hour when Sgt Hadrian walked up.

“Private Nero,” Kat pulled her head out of the Viper's fusilage.

“Yes Sergeant”

“Where were you at the time of the explosion?” Hadrian's pinched face looked like she had sucked on a lemon.

“I was .... ummm.....” Kat was trying to remember. “in Delta storage locker.”

“What were you doing in Delta storage locker?”

“I was doing vocal exercises, trying to build my voice back up, I used to sing and since Ragnar it has been off. I have been doing voice strengthening exercises trying to get my range and control back. It is quiet in Delta locker and I don't bother anyone.”

“By who's authorization were you using Delta locker for these exercises?”

“Chief.”

“The Chief authorized you to use the locker?

“Yes Sergeant.”

“Did you see the Chief while you were in Delta locker?”

“No, “

“You are certain you didn't see Chief while you were in the storage locker?” Sergeant Hadrian asked again.

“Yes Sergeant I am certain I didn't see the Chief.” Kat replied.

“Thank you, Private” Hadrian sneered as she walked off.

“What the hell was that about?” Kat asked herself as she went back to the Viper.

She went to chow as usual, and a few minutes later Cally came in.

“Hey I saw you talking to old sourpuss, what did you say?” She asked as she sat her tray down.

“She asked where I was during the explosion, and if I saw Chief, I told her I was in Delta locker and no I didn't see Chief. What is with all the questions about Chief?”

“I don't know she was asking me the same things.” Cally said. “What were you doing in Delta?”
“Been practicing my vocal exercises trying to get my singing voice back.”

“Yea been missing you singing on the flight deck, always made me feel better.” Cally said. “You kinda sounded like that old singer Kat, Cath. I wonder what happened to her. She disappeared about three years ago and no one has heard anything about her.”

“Maybe she had something she had to do.” Kat said. “Besides after what has happened, she is probably dead, she did live on Caprica after all.”

“Yea probably,” Cally looked up just as Kat turned away, “But then again.... you do LOOK like her too. I have one of her music disks and you look a lot like the picture especially just now. DAMN you are KAT.”

Kat looked around, she and Cally were the only ones around. “ NOT so loud.” She reached across the table and covered Cally's mouth. “If you say ONE word to anyone Cally it will make my life miserable. Please not a word.” Cally nodded her head.

“I promise. But why did you give it all up?”

“I made a promise to someone and I kept it” Kat lowered her voice. “four more weeks and I would have been a civilian again and could have gone back to singing, but something happened on Ragnar and my singing voice is gone, I have been working on trying to get it back, but I just don't have the range or the strength anymore.”

“Wow, I had no idea. I mean I always enjoyed when you sang, and knew things had been quiet lately but had no idea you had lost your voice. I noticed that the Commander hasn't been down to the flight deck lately. I thought that was why you weren't singing. You used to sing when he took his walks.”

“He knows who I am, it was kind of a way of thanking him for keeping my secret.” Kat blushed a bit.

“Have you been to see the Doc about your voice, it could be something medical?”

“Yes, it isn't.”

“Lets go you two” Solinus shouted from the door, “These Vipers won't launch themselves.”

“Remember, not a word” Kat said, “and don't call me Kat ok”

“You got it Cath.”

The got back to the flight deck a little before Hadrian came back with two marines and hauled Chief and Boomer off. Kat watched in concern. The Chief and Boomer's relationship wasn't exactly a well kept secret, and she wondered why Hadrian was so interested in them. They couldn't have had anything to do with the explosion. A little while later Solinus was hauled off by two marines to the tribunal, and he didn't come back. The president later announced that he was the one who left the access hatch open through negligence and that he would be in the brig for 30 days.

“I heard the Commander was hauled before the tribunal, and ended up putting Hadrian under house arrest.” Cally said behind Kat, causing her to bang her head on the wing she was working under.

“What....”

“Yea... Look there he is.”

Kat looked over at the entrance to the flight deck. Commander Adama stood there, looking around. He saw her and Cally and started walking in their direction.

“Specialist, Private, Good evening.”

They snapped to attention and saluted.

“Evening Sir” they said in unison.

“Specialist, may I have a private word with Private Nero.”

“Yes Sir” Cally said, saluted and walked off, throwing a wink back at Kat over her sholder.

“Can I help you, sir?” Kat asked.

“I hear you are working on getting your voice back.”

“Yes sir, I seem to have overstressed it or something while loading weapons on Ragnar.”

“Well, please continue working on it, and keep me posted. People with gifts like yours are needed right now to help keep up morale. I know your enlistment is up in four weeks, and we are going to need you for morale more than on the flight deck.”

“I will sir.”

He saluted and turned away. As he walked away she thought she heard him mutter “...just four more weeks.”

The tension on the flight deck was tangible. The chief was on everyone's asses making sure every available Viper was combat ready. Rumor had it that The Old Man had an op in the works, and no one doubted this rumor. Kat had been assigned to Hotdog's Viper while Lt. Thrace was recovering from her knee injury. She was working late trying to get everything ready when she heard footsteps on the deck.

It was Commander Adama, he looked around and then headed for Apollo's viper. She heard voices, muted but still clear as they talked. She stayed quiet, but nearly laughed out loud when she heard the Commander say “You better or I will kick your ass, it is a good lighter.” It made her smile to think he and his son were at least able to tease and laugh with each other again. He and his son...could that be why she couldn't sing anymore?

She thought back on her prayers at Ragnar, and how soon afterward she had strained her voice and had not been able to have any consistancy in tone or volume since. Was that the price she had paid so that he could have his son back? If so, after listening to them talk like that, just now, the price was worth it. She smiled, a little sadly and went back to tightening the bolt she was working on.

The next morning the deck buzzed as pilots and crew sat and waited for the order to launch. Half the fighters had been launched after she left the deck. She looked around for Apollo but he was no where to be seen. Hotdog was laughing it up with the other pilots and she prepped his plane.

“Hey Nero, you finished fiddling with that thing yet.” He slapped her on her ass as she bent over the wing.

“Finished, Sir, and please keep your hands to yourself.” she replied.

“Come on, just some friendly fun before I bite it, I won't tell if you don't.” His idiotic grin made her want to punch him. Two more weeks. Two more weeks. Two more weeks. It kept playing like a mantra in her head. In two more weeks she would be a civilian again and could wipe that smug look off his pompas face. Why in Hades had Starbuck had to go get herself injured and off the fly list.

Suddenly Dee's voice cut through the air. “Attention, Pilots man your planes. Pilots man your planes.” She handed Hotdog's helmet to his crew chief and stepped back from the plane as he scrambled up the ladder to the cockpit.

“Good hunting sir.” she called May you learn some humility. She didn't want to see any of the pilots hurt but that one needed a dose of crow. The vipers were launched, and the crews rushed to the landing positions, ready for planes to come in. Now the crew waited.

It seemed like days later, when the planes started to land. They had won, they had enough fuel to last several years now. She listened as Starbuck gave Apollo a hard time about the mission, and watched as the Commander walked up. Apollo threw his father something small and shiny. She smiled and turned back to the task at hand. She didn't know who was worse on a Viper, Starbuck or Hotdog, but she and the rest of Hotdog's crew would be working on this one for the next two days to get it flight ready again.

“How goes the voice?” She heard behind her.

She turned and saluted. “Not well, sir. Still no control. I may have lost it for good.” His blue eyes looked into hers. “I won't take that for an answer, Private. Consider this an order, use all your spare time to get that control back. We are going to need you. Morale is low in the fleet. The civilians need something they can relate to, music is one of those things. I was hoping you would be able to sing for Colonial Day.”

“No sir, I won't. There is no way I can be ready by then, even if I had a microphone and music, I can't maintain consistant notes, my voice is still cracking when I try to sing for very long.”

“Please try.”

She smiled, how could she say no to him and yet how could she tell him that he was the reason she couldn't be “The Toast of the 12 Colonies” again. “I will try but I can't promise I will be able to.”

“Good enough. I will make arrangements for you to take a shuttle over to the Colonial Day celebrations.” He gave her a half smile, “If you can't make it I understand.” He turned and walked away.

Two more weeks. Two more weeks. Two more weeks. The mantra was there again, but this time she had something much more pleasant in mind for what she wanted to do when she was a civilian again.

Kat stood in a darkened corredor on Galactica, it was so quiet and peaceful. She wished she was. She had been rehersing, working her voice and still could not sing a full song without it cracking. The Commander had been disappointed but understood when she told him she would not be singing tonight.

The last two Colonial Day's had been quietly spent aboard Galactica, but three years ago she had drunk sparkling wine, danced, sang, signed autographs and been almost worshiped by throngs of addoring fans. She could have had any man she wanted as a partner, with just the crook of a finger, even after coming to Galactica. Someone once told her that she could have been one of the Lords of Kobal, with her voice and her beauty, but she had never wanted anything like that. All she had ever wanted was to sing, and to find someone that wouldn't let her be alone. Now she couldn't sing anymore, and was more alone then ever.

She had gone to Cloud Nine, quietly on the last shuttle. She had wanted to be a part of the celebration. She had followed the music and watched the dancing. Even the Commander was there dancing with the President. She had watched, watched him smile, laugh, hold her in his arms, and turned and walked away.

She went into the obsservation deck, it was deserted tonight, all the courting couples were on Cloud Nine. She stared out at the still stars. Just a few more days, and she would be a civilian again. The Commander had told her he was going ahead with putting her out and with the fleet. He had faith she would get her voice back and would provide a focus and focal point for morale. His exact words were, “...give the people a face and a name other than Tom Zarek to gather around.” She wasn't sure she wanted that, but if that is what he thought would be best then that is what she would do.

“I thought you would be on Cloud Nine.”

She turned around. “I went for a bit, but just couldn't relax so came here to think, sir” She smiled. “You are back early.”

“I still have work to do, even on a holiday.” He smiled a little and walked over to where she was standing at the window. “Two more days, have you made arangements for which ship you will be going to?”

“Not yet, sir” She watched a shuttle approach the ship. “I think they have room on the Rising Star. I put in a request to go there but have not gotten a response back.”

“If you can't find a berth you can stay here on Galactica, we will just issue you a civilian travel card.” He stood next to her.

“I would rather not, sir. It would be too easy to fall into old habits, and I won't be part of the chain of command. A clean break is best.”

“Are you alright, Katherine?”

“I am fine, sir,” She smiled a little sadly. “I need to get to my rack, early shift tomorrow.”

She stood there waiting for him to dismiss her.

“You are off duty, don't stand on formalities.”

“No, sir. I am still a part of the fleet for two more days. Sir” she snapped a salute.

He slowly saluted in response. “Dismissed.”

She walked back to her rack, undressed and lay down. Others slowly started straggling in from the party. Cally walked over.

“Still leaving.”

“Yea”

“Wish you would stay, we will miss you.” She sat on the end of the bunk. “And not just on the flight deck. I walked by the observation deck on my way down here. Commander Adama was in there playing one of your old disks.”

Kat rolled over. “I am tired Cally, can we talk about this later?”

“Sure.” She stood up. “You know, there is more to you than just your voice.”

Not to him she thought. She closed her eyes. The image of him dancing with President Roslyn was burned on her eyelids. He needs someone who understands him, and that isn't me.

She reached under her pillow and pulled out her idols. “Lords of Kobal hear my prayer. Give him someone who understands him. Someone who can care for him without reservation. Whatever new price you ask I will pay, but please give him happiness.” She said it under her breath. She put the idols back and went to sleep.

Chapter 6 and complete till next season.

That was the last of it...all her gear stowed in her rucksack, the only thing left was a box in the very bottom of her locker and the idols under her pillow. Inside the box was her set of civilian clothes for tomorrow, the day of her rebirth. The idols were so she could sleep tonight.

The events of the day played over in her mind. Chief and Cally were lost somewhere on Kobal. Marines had come storming through the flight deck, and loaded on a raptor headed for who knew where. Col Tigh and Captain Apollo were with them. Events were moving fast. She looked at the small slip of paper on her bed, her discharge orders. They had been delivered this morning, In less than 6 hours she would be a civilian. Her berth on the Rising Star was waiting. She was scheduled for a shuttle in the morning. She wondered if the Commander would see her off.

“We should be back before your discharge.” Cally had said as she borded the raptor. “Party tonight in the rec room.”

“Hope you are up to an all nighter.” The Chief grinned. He grabbed her arm and pulled her aside. “Unofficially, I want you to watch things here on the deck, Cath. You are older than most of these rooks, heck you are older than most of the NCO's on the deck. Keep an eye on things while I am gone ok. I don't want my deck a mess when I get back.”

“Sure Chief.” she had laughed. “Mommas on Duty.” he laughed as he boarded the raptor.

Spirits had been high this morning. Finding Kobal, a habitable planet with resources, food and the mystery of the Gods, had boosted everyone's morale. Then the horrible news when the lone raptor had returned. Ten dead, one raptor down and trapped on the planet with a cylon basestar in orbit. Then Starbuck had taken off, no one knew where or why, but just jumped the raider and was gone. The fleet was in a jumble of confusion and all she could think about was that slip of paper on her rack...that they were putting her off the Galactica, the only home she had had for three years and they, no He was putting her off.

“Priviate Nero, a word if you don't mind.” He caught her just as she was going into the gym to work out. His hair was damp as if he had just showered. He was still in sweats.

“Yes Sir.” She threw her towel over her sholder and saluted.

“Your discharge papers should be ready soon. You will be missed here. But for the fleet I think this is best.” She looked into his blue eyes. “I ...We need you, all of us, not just Galactica.”

“I am doing my best, sir, but I still can't sing.”

“Just keep trying.” he turned and started to walk away. “Tomorrow, would you mind not calling me sir. My name is Bill.”

“I am not sure I can do that, sir.” She smiled a little. “ I can certainly try.”

He looked back over his sholder, and smiled “You seem to be doing a lot of trying lately.”

She smiled back at him. “Well lets see what tomorrow brings.”

She wanted so much to be able to sing for him. She had been trying so hard, and her voice seemed to be getting stronger but still wouldn't last a whole song. She sat on the rack with a pen and some paper. If she couldn't sing at least she could write for others to sing.


You don't see me, though we speak every day
You don't see me, though we pass along the way
You don't see me, though my heart breaks
You don't see me, you don't see me.

We pass every day, words of greetings exchanged
You walk away, and never look back
I don't know when it all changed.
When I started crying at night

Your smile, your laugh, the stars in your eyes
Your strength for all at the end of the world
All look to you, for guidance they cry
When all I want is your arms at night

I see you in another's arms, dancing with a smile
The two of you the guiding lights for human kind
And in the dark I stand watching all the while
And know I will be alone in the night.


“MEDICAL EMERGENCY IN CIC...EMERGENCY TEAM TO CIC.”
The call cut through the air. Somehow she knew he was hurt, somehow she knew they could lose him in the next few minutes.

“Lords of Kobal hear my prayer....Don't let him die. We need him... I need him. I need him to breath, I need to know he is alive. I can live the rest of my life alone if I know he is alive and well. Take me in his place, but please don't let him die.” She clutched the idols so tight that they started to bend. “Whatever price you want I will pay, my very life I will pay to keep him safe. Whatever it takes to keep him safe.”

“ACTION STATIONS ACTION STATIONS SET CONDITION ONE THROUGHOUT THE SHIP”

The ship rocked with an explosion. She ran to the door of the barracks, she could hear strange footsteps, almost metalic against the deck plating. She ran down the corredor until she found a detachment of Marines. They let her past the perimiter, and handed her a pistol.

“Non combat personnel are to head behind the marine perimiters and hold them back if they get through.” One marine told her as she headed down the corredor. She headed toward the flight deck, but saw several of the crew from the flight deck running back toward her. They were supporting one of the rooks.

“Nero, come with us, the deck has been taken by the cylons. We are falling back to residential areas to try to set a holding action.”

“Lets go.”

She fell in with the flight crew, just as they came to the intersection where the marines were holding she saw them, the Cylon Centurions. She froze in panic for just a second but one of the deck crew shoved her in the back and they started running. They ran toward CIC. Captain Apollo appeared around a corner.

“Get to Sickbay, The President and the Commander are there. Set up a perimiter at the door.”

They ran, straight to sick bay. There were two marines and the president's aid, Billy standing there.

“Captain Apollo sent us to help.” Kat said. “We also have wounded with us.”

“Take him inside then set up a defensive perimiter inside the door, if any cylons get in shoot them.” One of the marines said.

Inside sickbay, President Roslyn was sitting, shaking in a chair. Duella sat with her, and Kat could see the commander laying on a table just past some curtains. He was unconscious.

“Dee, what happened.” Kat asked

“Boomer shot him.” Dee said. She seemed to be in shock. “Just pointed and pulled the trigger. Then all hell broke loose. The cylons boarded throught the starbord landing bay. Col Tigh is in CIC trying to keep things organized, he sent me down here to help guard the commander.”

“We will keep them out.” Kat was shaking. She had known something had happened. From where she stood all she could see was his profile as the medics worked on him. He looked so pale. “BOOMER shot him.” It suddenly hit her what Dee had said. “BOOMER!”

Ohhh Gods what was happening....Boomer shot the commander, Cylons on the Galactica, and he was laying there dying and she couldn't do anything but pray. She knelt behind the barricade they set up, a couple beds turned over with metal medical tables behind them, the only idol in her hand now was a pistol.

“Lords of Kobal hear my prayer...Help us, please help us.”

 

 

 

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