The Light of Apollo

By Carolina Blue

A/N: Takes place in S2, between "Home Part 2" and "Final Cut."

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is property of the show "Battlestar Galactica," all rights reserved, etc. etc.

I was in the middle of writing "How to Be Human" when this story worked its way into my brain and wouldn't work its way back out. I'll probably continue this after "Human" is done, but for right now here's the first chapter!

CHAPTER ONE

Life was finally settling for the people of the Colonial fleet. Adama was back as commander and Roslin was once again President. Day to day life was becoming routine, comfortable.

The Niobe was a small civilian ship that had escaped the planet Libron during the attacks. It housed several hundred families and a small crew. Quarters were cramped and not the most luxurious, but the people were reasonably happy, considering the circumstances. There was a feeling of community here, and people were welcomed in with open arms.

And so no one thought to question the four men and two women who boarded the ship together one day. The group didn't talk much to anyone, but seemed harmless enough. They dressed similarly, in browns and greens, and all bore the same bow and arrow tattoo on their inner biceps. Other than that, nothing unusual. They kept to themselves but always pitched in when work needed to be done.

A week went by, when two of the men got up very early in the morning. They walked through the halls of the silent ship, past sleeping families and crew, to reach the galley. One man undid a vent casing in the wall, while the other pulled a small, metallic object out of the box he had been carrying. He handed the object off to his companion, who placed it in the vent, started its timer, then replaced the casing. The two men left the galley, and it looked like no one had been there at all. But then four hours later, at the peak hours of breakfast, the bomb exploded, rocking the entire ship and leaving the galley a smoldering, screaming mess…

It was very early in the morning, a time when anyone who wasn't on duty was most definitely asleep. Except for Lee Adama. He walked the mostly empty corridors of Galactica, glad for the peace and quiet. He'd been back as CAG for a few days and was only now feeling like he was catching up with the missed work. Whoever they had gotten to replace him during his time as a fugitive had frakked just about everything up. Fixing the entire mess had cost him a few nights of sleep, and even now there was always something that needed to be done.

Lee knew he should be resting, but he couldn't. Every time he made his way to his rack, someone stopped him to talk or complain or request something. Every time he tried to lie down, his brain would overload with things he needed to do, problems he had to fix. And every time he closed his eyes, images he wished he could forget would flash through his mind. He and Kara fighting on the flight deck, his own gun pressing against Tigh's face. His father getting shot, bleeding to death. His father lying unconscious in the sick bay. Kobol…

He couldn't sleep. He was exhausted but restless and, truth be told, afraid. Afraid he'd miss something, afraid something would go wrong. If he slacked off now, it would prove he didn't deserve to be CAG, that he really was a screw-up and a traitor. He had to be perfect now, he had to show everyone that he was needed, that they had been missing something while he was away. Otherwise, would they really need him now?

It was insecurity talking, Lee knew, but he couldn't help it. No one had really treated him badly since he had returned to the ship, but he was still worried. He had committed mutiny and gone AWOL. He had abandoned them, betrayed them. And it wasn't just them he had something to prove to, it was his father. Lee had to be good at this job, better than good. Or else his father might not have any need for him at all…

So Lee hadn't gotten a lot of sleep since they had returned from Kobol. That was fine, as long as pilot operations ran smoothly and CIC couldn't complain about him. That was all that mattered. He'd sacrifice some rack time, getting a quick nap in here and there, if it meant his job was getting done right.

And he wouldn't have to run into Kara in the pilots' quarters. He realized he had kind of been avoiding her since they got back, his father too. All of his relationships had changed since that mission, and Lee was unsure of where he stood with them. So instead of being let down, or letting them down, he tried to remove himself from their sights. So far it was working.

Of course, the gods were laughing at him. 'So far it was working' was barely a thought in his brain, when Commander William Adama himself appeared in front of Lee. He wasn't sure which one of them was more surprised.

"Captain," Bill acknowledged. Both of them wondered inwardly why he couldn't call his son by his actual name, even in an empty hallway.

"Sir," Lee replied, making an effort not to stammer. He still felt incredibly judged and inadequate around his father, even though he had no regrets about his actions over the past few weeks. Part of him wanted to apologize so badly for leaving, but he believed in his actions and couldn't let his father think he regretted them. Lee had done what he knew to be right, and he couldn't apologize for that. It was all giving him a headache.

Bill was going through the same sort of dilemma. He had assumed, rather naively, that things would go back to the way there were, or be better, after they all returned from Kobol. But trying to navigate their ways through their jobs on Galactica had caused both men to retreat from each other. There was no animosity between them, not really, but it wasn't at all easy to be around each other. One step forward, two steps back.

"You're up early," he commented. "Or up late," he added, hoping to lose some of the tension.

"I'm still trying to work out some of the kinks in the flight roster, sir," Lee answered, not recognizing the joke attempt for what it was. "We're adding some new nuggets to the group, and with Helo back, I'm…" he trailed off for a second, running his hand through his hair. "I'm fixing it," he assured Bill.

Bill's first instinct was to nod and continue on down the hallway, but something in Lee's voice stopped him. He took a closer look at his son, noticing the circles under his eyes, the pale complexion, the heavy slump to his shoulders. "Are you alright? Shouldn't you be sleeping?" he asked. Not wanting Lee to think he was coddling him, he added, "We can't have our CAG getting sloppy on the job again."

He regretted it the moment he said it. Lee's eyes flashed briefly, very briefly, with something akin to resignation and hurt, before the mask slid back in place and he pulled himself as upright as possible. "It's fine, sir. Does the commander require anything else of me this morning?"

Bill kicked himself, knowing he had done it again, whatever 'it' was. But he just couldn't bring himself to apologize or clarify his question. Old habits die hard, he guessed. "No, Captain," he answered quietly, also resigned, unable to break away from his pretense of commanding officer. "I'll see you later at the CIC briefing."

"Yes sir," and Lee was quickly gone. Bill was alone in the corridor, but he could still feel the taste of hurt and disappointment that his son had left behind. He had thought Kobol was a step in the right direction between the two of them, but since getting back to the ship, neither seemed able to continue those steps.

They were stuck, dead in the water. One step forward, two steps back…

TO BE CONTINUED…