Friends and Enemies
By Crystal Wimmer
Chapter 1
"It won't work," Tyrol said swiftly. "The Raptor isn't designed for offensive operations. It has a few things aboard to save your butt, but you can't take it into a fight."
"Vipers won't jump," Lee put in. "We'd have to use a Raptor."
"A Raptor can't take out the launching tunnels," the Chief replied, shaking his head. "It might be able to provide defensive cover, but that's the best you could expect. And even then it wouldn't be enough for a tanker to get off the ground."
William Adama watched the rapid-fire conversation between his Chief Pilot and Crew Chief with concern. Their points were both valid, but they had to make this work. The fleet was out of fuel - effectively dead in space - able to support life but little more. Soon even that capability would bleed dry. They couldn't function without fuel to keep out the icy chill of space, and there were no other options that he was aware of.
"Can we send Vipers ahead?" Tigh asked. "What's the final range?"
Lee shook his head. "We could send them, but it would be advertising how close we are to the planet," he explained. "As of now, the Cylons have no way of knowing what direction we jumped. Vipers would tell them within a few hundred clicks. They know the capabilities of our ships."
"We don't have to stay," Adama finally said, his quiet authority silencing the voices that were coming back to argue with his Executive Officer. "Once we have the tanker, we could refuel and jump."
"What will that do to our finding earth?" Tigh asked.
"At the most, delay it. The possibility is eliminated if we don't have fuel to run the life support systems on the ships."
Lee walked angrily to the door of his father's quarters, then turned back. The look on his face made it clear that he didn't like what he was about to suggest. "What if we send in Vipers, then leave them? The pilots could jump back with either the Raptor or tanker."
"That'll cost us two Vipers," Tyrol explained.
"And possibly two pilots, if they don't make the ships," Lee agreed.
"It's two lives," Tigh put in. "Against more than fifty thousand."
"And two ships," Tyrol argued.
"Again, irrelevant if we have no fuel," the Commander said quietly.
"What about capture?" Lee asked. "The pilots wouldn't be able to know the coordinates for the jumps, and the Viper computers would have to be purged."
"It could work," Adama said quietly. "But I don't like it."
"I can't think of another way," Tigh put in. "We don't have time to keep hopping around and hoping that we'll find a Tylium store. This is already processed, ready to go, and we need that fuel."
"It's also on a planet that's occupied by Cylons!" Lee shouted back. "We don't have the resources to attack the Cylons and still protect the fleet. I don't know what I was thinking; there has to be another way."
"What is it?" Tigh asked calmly. Lee didn't have an answer. None of them did.
"Okay, here's the drill," William finally said quietly. "Two Vipers launch, long range, to the planet. They go in, take out the launching area."
"That we know of," Lee muttered, anger still clear in his voice.
"That we know of," Adama agreed. "We jump in the tanker with a Raptor accompanying, load it as full as we can, and have the Raptor pick up our Viper pilots for the jump home. The Raptor can keep the tanker covered until the jump, then when they're back the whole fleet jumps to an unknown location."
"There's no way," Lee muttered. It had been his idea, but even he didn't think it could work. "Do you know how many things can go wrong with that plan? What if we miss a launch site? What if they have a full compliment by the fuel depot? What if one of the pilots, or anyone else, is captured? It just can't work."
William looked at his son calmly. "I'm open to other, more tactically acceptable, suggestions."
Lee was silent. They all were.
"Chief, I need two Vipers equipped with additional fuel tanks to get them to the planet. If we jettison those tanks when they're empty, maybe the Cylons won't have a clue how far out we are," Adama began in a decisive voice. "You don't have much time. We'll need to launch in the next twelve hours if we're going to get them there. Strip all unnecessary computers from the Vipers; if we're leaving them behind, we don't want the Cylons to have anything to go from. They'll need navigational and auto-pilot; it will take them forty-eight hours at best speed, and that's putting us right on the line."
"Yes, Sir," Tyrol said briskly. He turned and left the quarters. He had a lot to get done.
"Colonel Tigh, if you'll excuse us." he began, but the XO was a step ahead of him.
"I'll double-check those jump plots and check on the rest of the fleet. I'll be in CIC."
Adama nodded, and Tigh left the quarters at a fast walk.
William Adama looked at his oldest son with a mixture of pride and fear. He knew what had to come next, and he didn't like it. "I'll need four good pilots," he said softly. "Really good. Two Viper, one tanker, and one Raptor. I'll check with security to provide two men who can provide the tanker some ground-coverage while it fuels. I pray it's enough."
Lee nodded, but didn't turn to leave. He knew there was more coming.
"I would prefer the pilots be volunteer," he said gently. "But use your judgement. If this mission doesn't succeed, the rest of us have only hours before we lose life support systems.
"I understand," Lee told him. "Anything else."
Adama wanted to add a lot of things. He wanted to beg Lee not to choose to go, because he would be so badly needed on the Galactica if they were to pull this off. He wanted to tell his son that he loved him, and that he was so damn sorry it had come to this. He wanted to tell him that he was sick of commanding, wanted to retire, and that perhaps it would be better if it all ended now in the cold darkness of space. But he said none of those things. He couldn't. And with Lee, he really didn't have to.
"Dismissed," Adama said simply.
Lee nodded, and left the room quickly, closing the hatch behind him. Then William Adama, Commander of the last surviving Battlestar, put his head in his hands and prayed.
Months earlier, he had at least been hopeful. They'd had enough food, fuel, and medical supplies to easily last them until they found more. Unfortunately, the path they had taken was between star systems. The theory had been good - by avoiding planets they also avoided the possibility of running across a Cylon occupied area. But the Raptor jumps that were to seek out additional fuel had come up empty. The hazard of being in uncharted space was that no one knew what was where. By the time they had realized just how much danger they were in, there wasn't fuel for the fleet to jump back. They were effectively stuck on this coarse until they could refuel, and even if they found a planet now that was rich in Tylium, they didn't have the time to process it. They needed it ready, and they needed it now.
The previous day, one of the Raptor jumps had revealed a Cylon planet. The pilot had initially just been scanning the new sector for Tylium, and when he found a rich source he had investigated. Thankfully, he had been able to pick up the Cylon communications before scanning, or being scanned. The Cylons most probably didn't know they had been there, but it had at least given them a possibility. They had photographs of the planet, and a general idea of where the launch sites and depots were located. Adama supposed he should be grateful for that. The fleet had less than seventy- two hours to survive if they didn't do something.
But he hated that it had come to this. Looking back, he didn't know what he could have done differently, planned differently, to avert the crisis. But in his heart he knew there had to be something. They had come to the point of desperation, and it would take as much luck as skill to get them out of it. He just prayed they had enough of both.
Lee looked at the pilot sleeping on the bunk below his and sighed. He hated to do this, but he knew that if this mission was to work, he would need his best pilot to manage it.
"Starbuck," he called softly. "Wake up."
Buried in half a dozen blankets against the uncomfortable cold of the Galactica, she merely muttered and curled herself more tightly into a ball. She never had been a morning person, but the middle of the night was even worse.
"Starbuck, I need you awake," he said a little more loudly, reaching beneath the covers to firmly shake a shoulder. He didn't want to wake half the squadron, but she wasn't giving him a choice. "Kara, wake up!"
She came awake with a start, glaring at him as she did so. "I'm awake," she muttered. He knew she was only half-way there, but his next words would take care of that.
"Mission. Now. Get up and get dressed."
"I am dressed," she mumbled as she threw back covers.
He shook his head. "Flight suit," he corrected. "But leave your day uniform underneath. You'll need the warmth."
Those words brought her alert. "What's up?"
"I'll tell you on the way," he said simply. "I need to get Micah up, too."
She grumbled again, nodded, and stood up. She rubbed her arms fiercely against the cold. The heaters had been one of the first things limited by the fuel shortage, and the temperature was dangerously cold if you weren't moving around.
It took Apollo only a moment more to get Micah awake. Kohler was already waiting by the hatch, ready to go. He had debated making this a volunteer mission, as his father had suggested, because of the danger involved. But the bottom line was that there was no point. If the mission didn't succeed, none of them would be alive in four days, so he might as well take his best men with him. They wouldn't do him any good here.
The walk to the ready room was quick. Once there he filled the pilots in on what would be expected. "Micah, you've jumped tankers before, correct?"
"Yes, Sir," the young man answered. "I ran tankers before I joined the service."
"I thought I remembered that. Pick out a co-pilot - whoever you're most comfortable with - and brief him. Colonel Tigh will have a fueling crew set up by the time you launch. We won't have any communication between now and then, so you're just going to have to trust that we'll take out the launching sites."
Micah nodded as Lee moved his attention to Kohler. "Your team will be the only defense for the tanker once it's fuelled," he reminded him. "That thing's gonna be slower than belief when it gets off the ground, but we need it full. You need to pick us up, but if we don't get to you by the time the tanker's full, don't wait. This is too important. Without that tanker, we're dead in the air. You can't wait on anyone."
Kohler nodded his understanding as well. Then Lee turned to Kara. "You need to eat. It's the last food you'll get for a while. Salik will set us up with some nutritional supplements on the flight, but two days is a damn long time. We'll sleep in shifts, communicate only by short range, and when we get there we blow the hell out of everything except the depot. If we don't get it done, the tanker doesn't have a chance. Everyone here is gone. We clear?"
Kara nodded, her face somber. There was nothing to joke about here. "How will we make it that long for fuel?" she asked.
"Tyrol's installing extra tanks. We'll jettison them as they empty. Hopefully, the Cylons won't find them floating and will think we're closer than we are. If we can fool them into containing their search, we should have time to get the fleet fueled and out of here before they show up."
"Where will we jump to?" she asked. "A full fleet jump will take most of the fuel we get."
"True," he admitted. "But it will buy us time. We know of a couple of different planets with raw Tylium back towards the line, but we can't get the fleet there without fuel, and we need a week or more to process it. We can do it, but not without some fuel to get there."
She nodded her understanding.
"Any questions?"
There were shaken heads all around the table. Apollo took one last deep breath, and concluded his briefing. "This is beyond top secret," he said quietly. "No one knows how close we are to the edge. If word got out, the panic would be unbelievable. You can't say a word to anyone. If you're questioned, we have a mission to acquire fuel. That is all. Understood?"
Again, there were nods from the crew. "We have to do this," he said simply. "There's just no other way at this point." He paused for a moment, then released them. "Dismissed."
He wasn't surprised when Kara stayed. When the room was empty of all but the two of them, she finally spoke. "What are our chances?"
He couldn't lie to her. "Not good."
"I'd rather die doing something than sit here and freeze," she admitted. "Thanks for putting me on the team."
"It wasn't favoritism. You're the best pilot in the fleet."
"And you?"
He knew she wasn't insulting him. He was a good pilot - very good - but no where near her caliber. She was simply asking why he hadn't asked someone else. "I can't send someone on a mission that I'm not willing to do," he admitted. "Besides, communication is going to be at a minimum, and we've worked together often enough to get by without it. We can't read each other's minds, but we're damn close to knowing what one another is thinking."
She nodded her understanding. "And you knew I wouldn't want to fly with anyone else?" she suggested.
He shrugged at that. "We're a good team."
"God, I hope so," she said softly. "I can't see how we'll pull this off."
"I'm the book and you're the instinct," he reasoned. "Between the two of us, we'll get it done."
Kara did her best to force one more bite down her throat. She wasn't hungry, but she knew that would change. Two days was a long time without food, whatever supplements their doc could come up with. Water would be an issue, too. They couldn't allow themselves to dehydrate - they wouldn't be able to function if they did - but the catheter bags had a limit. She winced as she thought of that. She really hated those damn things, and was grateful that they were reserved for only the very longest missions. This was the longest she'd ever been assigned.
Vipers, as a rule, were for speed and attack. Usually they let their ship take them to the zone, then they did the rest. But there wasn't enough fuel to jump the Galactica, and no other ship in could launch them. They would have to get there on their own speed, which was formidable - but not at this range.
She put another mouthful in, chewed deliberately, and swallowed. Then she repeated the process. She would need it, she reminded herself once more. She would need the energy.
"Is it that bad," the Commander asked quietly.
Under other circumstances, she might have jumped to attention. Commander Adama had certainly earned that privilege, but she had neither the time nor the inclination. She had to get this plate of food down. They launched in less than an hour. "Just not hungry," she admitted, and took another bite.
He took a seat across from her. The ready room was vacant except for Kara and her plate, so she figured he'd come to talk about the mission.
"How are you holding up?" he asked, confirming her suspicion.
"We'll get it done," she told him. It didn't answer his question.
"I wasn't surprised when Lee assigned you to the mission," he said softly. "You're the best pilot I've ever seen. But you know that."
She shrugged one shoulder. She wouldn't argue with a compliment. "I do what I have to."
"We all do," he said quietly. "But I never thought it would come to this. I need you and Lee to come back. The fleet needs you now, and if we get through this I'm very sure we'll need you again."
"We'll get it done," she reassured him with a confidence she really didn't feel.
"And come back," he reiterated. "You won't have a lot of time once you wipe out the Viper computers. You may be sluggish after being in there for a couple of days. The closer you can manage to land to the depot, the better off you'll be."
"And the greater the risk that the Cylons will figure out what we're doing and call in reinforcements," she reminded him.
"It's a fine line," he agreed.
She didn't have an answer for that. They both knew the odds.
"Come back, Starbuck," he told her firmly as he stood and patted her on the back.
"That's the plan."
"And. " He trailed off for a moment before continuing. "Bring my son back, too."
She looked up and met his eyes. He seemed very old at that moment, and tired, and without hope. She knew what it must have cost him to make the request after she'd failed his youngest son so terribly. "I'll do my best," she promised.
He nodded and left her to finish her meal, whether she wanted it or not. They had a mission to get through, and she had more responsibilities at the moment than she knew what to do with. Taking one more bite was the easiest thing she could manage to do.
Chapter 1
"It won't work," Tyrol said swiftly. "The Raptor isn't designed for offensive operations. It has a few things aboard to save your butt, but you can't take it into a fight."
"Vipers won't jump," Lee put in. "We'd have to use a Raptor."
"A Raptor can't take out the launching tunnels," the Chief replied, shaking his head. "It might be able to provide defensive cover, but that's the best you could expect. And even then it wouldn't be enough for a tanker to get off the ground."
William Adama watched the rapid-fire conversation between his Chief Pilot and Crew Chief with concern. Their points were both valid, but they had to make this work. The fleet was out of fuel - effectively dead in space - able to support life but little more. Soon even that capability would bleed dry. They couldn't function without fuel to keep out the icy chill of space, and there were no other options that he was aware of.
"Can we send Vipers ahead?" Tigh asked. "What's the final range?"
Lee shook his head. "We could send them, but it would be advertising how close we are to the planet," he explained. "As of now, the Cylons have no way of knowing what direction we jumped. Vipers would tell them within a few hundred clicks. They know the capabilities of our ships."
"We don't have to stay," Adama finally said, his quiet authority silencing the voices that were coming back to argue with his Executive Officer. "Once we have the tanker, we could refuel and jump."
"What will that do to our finding earth?" Tigh asked.
"At the most, delay it. The possibility is eliminated if we don't have fuel to run the life support systems on the ships."
Lee walked angrily to the door of his father's quarters, then turned back. The look on his face made it clear that he didn't like what he was about to suggest. "What if we send in Vipers, then leave them? The pilots could jump back with either the Raptor or tanker."
"That'll cost us two Vipers," Tyrol explained.
"And possibly two pilots, if they don't make the ships," Lee agreed.
"It's two lives," Tigh put in. "Against more than fifty thousand."
"And two ships," Tyrol argued.
"Again, irrelevant if we have no fuel," the Commander said quietly.
"What about capture?" Lee asked. "The pilots wouldn't be able to know the coordinates for the jumps, and the Viper computers would have to be purged."
"It could work," Adama said quietly. "But I don't like it."
"I can't think of another way," Tigh put in. "We don't have time to keep hopping around and hoping that we'll find a Tylium store. This is already processed, ready to go, and we need that fuel."
"It's also on a planet that's occupied by Cylons!" Lee shouted back. "We don't have the resources to attack the Cylons and still protect the fleet. I don't know what I was thinking; there has to be another way."
"What is it?" Tigh asked calmly. Lee didn't have an answer. None of them did.
"Okay, here's the drill," William finally said quietly. "Two Vipers launch, long range, to the planet. They go in, take out the launching area."
"That we know of," Lee muttered, anger still clear in his voice.
"That we know of," Adama agreed. "We jump in the tanker with a Raptor accompanying, load it as full as we can, and have the Raptor pick up our Viper pilots for the jump home. The Raptor can keep the tanker covered until the jump, then when they're back the whole fleet jumps to an unknown location."
"There's no way," Lee muttered. It had been his idea, but even he didn't think it could work. "Do you know how many things can go wrong with that plan? What if we miss a launch site? What if they have a full compliment by the fuel depot? What if one of the pilots, or anyone else, is captured? It just can't work."
William looked at his son calmly. "I'm open to other, more tactically acceptable, suggestions."
Lee was silent. They all were.
"Chief, I need two Vipers equipped with additional fuel tanks to get them to the planet. If we jettison those tanks when they're empty, maybe the Cylons won't have a clue how far out we are," Adama began in a decisive voice. "You don't have much time. We'll need to launch in the next twelve hours if we're going to get them there. Strip all unnecessary computers from the Vipers; if we're leaving them behind, we don't want the Cylons to have anything to go from. They'll need navigational and auto-pilot; it will take them forty-eight hours at best speed, and that's putting us right on the line."
"Yes, Sir," Tyrol said briskly. He turned and left the quarters. He had a lot to get done.
"Colonel Tigh, if you'll excuse us." he began, but the XO was a step ahead of him.
"I'll double-check those jump plots and check on the rest of the fleet. I'll be in CIC."
Adama nodded, and Tigh left the quarters at a fast walk.
William Adama looked at his oldest son with a mixture of pride and fear. He knew what had to come next, and he didn't like it. "I'll need four good pilots," he said softly. "Really good. Two Viper, one tanker, and one Raptor. I'll check with security to provide two men who can provide the tanker some ground-coverage while it fuels. I pray it's enough."
Lee nodded, but didn't turn to leave. He knew there was more coming.
"I would prefer the pilots be volunteer," he said gently. "But use your judgement. If this mission doesn't succeed, the rest of us have only hours before we lose life support systems.
"I understand," Lee told him. "Anything else."
Adama wanted to add a lot of things. He wanted to beg Lee not to choose to go, because he would be so badly needed on the Galactica if they were to pull this off. He wanted to tell his son that he loved him, and that he was so damn sorry it had come to this. He wanted to tell him that he was sick of commanding, wanted to retire, and that perhaps it would be better if it all ended now in the cold darkness of space. But he said none of those things. He couldn't. And with Lee, he really didn't have to.
"Dismissed," Adama said simply.
Lee nodded, and left the room quickly, closing the hatch behind him. Then William Adama, Commander of the last surviving Battlestar, put his head in his hands and prayed.
Months earlier, he had at least been hopeful. They'd had enough food, fuel, and medical supplies to easily last them until they found more. Unfortunately, the path they had taken was between star systems. The theory had been good - by avoiding planets they also avoided the possibility of running across a Cylon occupied area. But the Raptor jumps that were to seek out additional fuel had come up empty. The hazard of being in uncharted space was that no one knew what was where. By the time they had realized just how much danger they were in, there wasn't fuel for the fleet to jump back. They were effectively stuck on this coarse until they could refuel, and even if they found a planet now that was rich in Tylium, they didn't have the time to process it. They needed it ready, and they needed it now.
The previous day, one of the Raptor jumps had revealed a Cylon planet. The pilot had initially just been scanning the new sector for Tylium, and when he found a rich source he had investigated. Thankfully, he had been able to pick up the Cylon communications before scanning, or being scanned. The Cylons most probably didn't know they had been there, but it had at least given them a possibility. They had photographs of the planet, and a general idea of where the launch sites and depots were located. Adama supposed he should be grateful for that. The fleet had less than seventy- two hours to survive if they didn't do something.
But he hated that it had come to this. Looking back, he didn't know what he could have done differently, planned differently, to avert the crisis. But in his heart he knew there had to be something. They had come to the point of desperation, and it would take as much luck as skill to get them out of it. He just prayed they had enough of both.
Lee looked at the pilot sleeping on the bunk below his and sighed. He hated to do this, but he knew that if this mission was to work, he would need his best pilot to manage it.
"Starbuck," he called softly. "Wake up."
Buried in half a dozen blankets against the uncomfortable cold of the Galactica, she merely muttered and curled herself more tightly into a ball. She never had been a morning person, but the middle of the night was even worse.
"Starbuck, I need you awake," he said a little more loudly, reaching beneath the covers to firmly shake a shoulder. He didn't want to wake half the squadron, but she wasn't giving him a choice. "Kara, wake up!"
She came awake with a start, glaring at him as she did so. "I'm awake," she muttered. He knew she was only half-way there, but his next words would take care of that.
"Mission. Now. Get up and get dressed."
"I am dressed," she mumbled as she threw back covers.
He shook his head. "Flight suit," he corrected. "But leave your day uniform underneath. You'll need the warmth."
Those words brought her alert. "What's up?"
"I'll tell you on the way," he said simply. "I need to get Micah up, too."
She grumbled again, nodded, and stood up. She rubbed her arms fiercely against the cold. The heaters had been one of the first things limited by the fuel shortage, and the temperature was dangerously cold if you weren't moving around.
It took Apollo only a moment more to get Micah awake. Kohler was already waiting by the hatch, ready to go. He had debated making this a volunteer mission, as his father had suggested, because of the danger involved. But the bottom line was that there was no point. If the mission didn't succeed, none of them would be alive in four days, so he might as well take his best men with him. They wouldn't do him any good here.
The walk to the ready room was quick. Once there he filled the pilots in on what would be expected. "Micah, you've jumped tankers before, correct?"
"Yes, Sir," the young man answered. "I ran tankers before I joined the service."
"I thought I remembered that. Pick out a co-pilot - whoever you're most comfortable with - and brief him. Colonel Tigh will have a fueling crew set up by the time you launch. We won't have any communication between now and then, so you're just going to have to trust that we'll take out the launching sites."
Micah nodded as Lee moved his attention to Kohler. "Your team will be the only defense for the tanker once it's fuelled," he reminded him. "That thing's gonna be slower than belief when it gets off the ground, but we need it full. You need to pick us up, but if we don't get to you by the time the tanker's full, don't wait. This is too important. Without that tanker, we're dead in the air. You can't wait on anyone."
Kohler nodded his understanding as well. Then Lee turned to Kara. "You need to eat. It's the last food you'll get for a while. Salik will set us up with some nutritional supplements on the flight, but two days is a damn long time. We'll sleep in shifts, communicate only by short range, and when we get there we blow the hell out of everything except the depot. If we don't get it done, the tanker doesn't have a chance. Everyone here is gone. We clear?"
Kara nodded, her face somber. There was nothing to joke about here. "How will we make it that long for fuel?" she asked.
"Tyrol's installing extra tanks. We'll jettison them as they empty. Hopefully, the Cylons won't find them floating and will think we're closer than we are. If we can fool them into containing their search, we should have time to get the fleet fueled and out of here before they show up."
"Where will we jump to?" she asked. "A full fleet jump will take most of the fuel we get."
"True," he admitted. "But it will buy us time. We know of a couple of different planets with raw Tylium back towards the line, but we can't get the fleet there without fuel, and we need a week or more to process it. We can do it, but not without some fuel to get there."
She nodded her understanding.
"Any questions?"
There were shaken heads all around the table. Apollo took one last deep breath, and concluded his briefing. "This is beyond top secret," he said quietly. "No one knows how close we are to the edge. If word got out, the panic would be unbelievable. You can't say a word to anyone. If you're questioned, we have a mission to acquire fuel. That is all. Understood?"
Again, there were nods from the crew. "We have to do this," he said simply. "There's just no other way at this point." He paused for a moment, then released them. "Dismissed."
He wasn't surprised when Kara stayed. When the room was empty of all but the two of them, she finally spoke. "What are our chances?"
He couldn't lie to her. "Not good."
"I'd rather die doing something than sit here and freeze," she admitted. "Thanks for putting me on the team."
"It wasn't favoritism. You're the best pilot in the fleet."
"And you?"
He knew she wasn't insulting him. He was a good pilot - very good - but no where near her caliber. She was simply asking why he hadn't asked someone else. "I can't send someone on a mission that I'm not willing to do," he admitted. "Besides, communication is going to be at a minimum, and we've worked together often enough to get by without it. We can't read each other's minds, but we're damn close to knowing what one another is thinking."
She nodded her understanding. "And you knew I wouldn't want to fly with anyone else?" she suggested.
He shrugged at that. "We're a good team."
"God, I hope so," she said softly. "I can't see how we'll pull this off."
"I'm the book and you're the instinct," he reasoned. "Between the two of us, we'll get it done."
Kara did her best to force one more bite down her throat. She wasn't hungry, but she knew that would change. Two days was a long time without food, whatever supplements their doc could come up with. Water would be an issue, too. They couldn't allow themselves to dehydrate - they wouldn't be able to function if they did - but the catheter bags had a limit. She winced as she thought of that. She really hated those damn things, and was grateful that they were reserved for only the very longest missions. This was the longest she'd ever been assigned.
Vipers, as a rule, were for speed and attack. Usually they let their ship take them to the zone, then they did the rest. But there wasn't enough fuel to jump the Galactica, and no other ship in could launch them. They would have to get there on their own speed, which was formidable - but not at this range.
She put another mouthful in, chewed deliberately, and swallowed. Then she repeated the process. She would need it, she reminded herself once more. She would need the energy.
"Is it that bad," the Commander asked quietly.
Under other circumstances, she might have jumped to attention. Commander Adama had certainly earned that privilege, but she had neither the time nor the inclination. She had to get this plate of food down. They launched in less than an hour. "Just not hungry," she admitted, and took another bite.
He took a seat across from her. The ready room was vacant except for Kara and her plate, so she figured he'd come to talk about the mission.
"How are you holding up?" he asked, confirming her suspicion.
"We'll get it done," she told him. It didn't answer his question.
"I wasn't surprised when Lee assigned you to the mission," he said softly. "You're the best pilot I've ever seen. But you know that."
She shrugged one shoulder. She wouldn't argue with a compliment. "I do what I have to."
"We all do," he said quietly. "But I never thought it would come to this. I need you and Lee to come back. The fleet needs you now, and if we get through this I'm very sure we'll need you again."
"We'll get it done," she reassured him with a confidence she really didn't feel.
"And come back," he reiterated. "You won't have a lot of time once you wipe out the Viper computers. You may be sluggish after being in there for a couple of days. The closer you can manage to land to the depot, the better off you'll be."
"And the greater the risk that the Cylons will figure out what we're doing and call in reinforcements," she reminded him.
"It's a fine line," he agreed.
She didn't have an answer for that. They both knew the odds.
"Come back, Starbuck," he told her firmly as he stood and patted her on the back.
"That's the plan."
"And. " He trailed off for a moment before continuing. "Bring my son back, too."
She looked up and met his eyes. He seemed very old at that moment, and tired, and without hope. She knew what it must have cost him to make the request after she'd failed his youngest son so terribly. "I'll do my best," she promised.
He nodded and left her to finish her meal, whether she wanted it or not. They had a mission to get through, and she had more responsibilities at the moment than she knew what to do with. Taking one more bite was the easiest thing she could manage to do.