Kara sat back and gave Foster a guileless still that didn't quite fit her normally-smirking lips. "Kara Thrace. Captain, Colonial Air Force. 46-27-53." This was a repeat performance of course, as Kara'd been saying much the same thing all day long. She didn't even bother disguising her origin insofar as giving her actual rank and branch name - anything less, any fabrication would have felt like the worst sort of betrayal. And what did it really matter, anyway? She sensed no one really believed her anyway. Interrogators had been accusing her of being everything from a Communist to a French spy (neither of which she really understood, but at least she could put the former into some sort of workable context).
Foster's face went from pink to red, and he made a strangled noise in his throat.
Commander Stern cut in before the man could erupt. “Cut the bullshit, ma’am,” he said calmly. “How’d you fix that plane? Can you tell us that? From check-in records at the gates, you didn’t have more than three and a half hours with it.” For his part, the man looked genuinely interested.
Before she could hold it in check, professional pride made her ask, “Will she fly?”
The man’s silence told her everything she needed to know. She should have felt even worse – a near escape was even worse than being caught – but her grin was genuine. “I knew it.”
Foster broke in at this point, calling over his shoulder. “Belsterling! Bring the bag in here!”
A young ensign – presumably Belsterling – entered with Kara’s duffel of tools and parts, spilling it unceremoniously across the table. Pieces rolled this way and that, clattering to the floor. Coolly, she observed the spectacle, neither reacting nor moving to catch the vital circuitry that would probably be broken thanks to such rough treatment.
Smirking like a cat who’d just caught an especially ornery canary, Foster gestured to the array. “Explain what this is.”
Kara cocked her head to one side, looking for all the observers like she were actually considering. She plucked a piece at random from the pile, turning it over in her hand, scrutinizing it closely. At last, she smiled cheerfully, shrugged, and laid it back down on the table. “I don’t know, sir. Looks like a bolt to me. But then, I’m no expert.” She batted her eyelashes for good measure, and that time, Foster really did make a grab for her.
Kara was out of her chair before he was a foot from her, and she swung, catching him across the chin. It was a poorly timed punch, and Kara felt the pain ring up through her knuckles, her hand, and burn all the way to the her elbow. Still, it felt damn good to see the little bastard reel back, covering his face with two hands. Belsterling restrained her, but Kara was expecting as much, and didn’t bother putting up a fuss. Instead, she grinned at Stern. “He the best you got, sir? ‘Cause I can do this all day.”
He frowned hard at her, seeming to weigh her with his gaze. She felt queerly as though Bill Adama were looking at her through the other man’s eyes, and she barely repressed a shiver. Her gaze, however, remained boldly on his. Stern shook his head and glanced at Calavicci before turning to the man grasping Kara’s wrists behind her. “Cuff her to the chair, Ensign.” With barely a glance to the Captain, he added, “Foster, with me,” on his way out the door.
Once Belsterling did as he was ordered, performing his task as quickly as he possibly could, Kara and Al were once again left alone.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2010-05-12 06:40 pm (UTC)Foster's face went from pink to red, and he made a strangled noise in his throat.
Commander Stern cut in before the man could erupt. “Cut the bullshit, ma’am,” he said calmly. “How’d you fix that plane? Can you tell us that? From check-in records at the gates, you didn’t have more than three and a half hours with it.” For his part, the man looked genuinely interested.
Before she could hold it in check, professional pride made her ask, “Will she fly?”
The man’s silence told her everything she needed to know. She should have felt even worse – a near escape was even worse than being caught – but her grin was genuine. “I knew it.”
Foster broke in at this point, calling over his shoulder. “Belsterling! Bring the bag in here!”
A young ensign – presumably Belsterling – entered with Kara’s duffel of tools and parts, spilling it unceremoniously across the table. Pieces rolled this way and that, clattering to the floor. Coolly, she observed the spectacle, neither reacting nor moving to catch the vital circuitry that would probably be broken thanks to such rough treatment.
Smirking like a cat who’d just caught an especially ornery canary, Foster gestured to the array. “Explain what this is.”
Kara cocked her head to one side, looking for all the observers like she were actually considering. She plucked a piece at random from the pile, turning it over in her hand, scrutinizing it closely. At last, she smiled cheerfully, shrugged, and laid it back down on the table. “I don’t know, sir. Looks like a bolt to me. But then, I’m no expert.” She batted her eyelashes for good measure, and that time, Foster really did make a grab for her.
Kara was out of her chair before he was a foot from her, and she swung, catching him across the chin. It was a poorly timed punch, and Kara felt the pain ring up through her knuckles, her hand, and burn all the way to the her elbow. Still, it felt damn good to see the little bastard reel back, covering his face with two hands. Belsterling restrained her, but Kara was expecting as much, and didn’t bother putting up a fuss. Instead, she grinned at Stern. “He the best you got, sir? ‘Cause I can do this all day.”
He frowned hard at her, seeming to weigh her with his gaze. She felt queerly as though Bill Adama were looking at her through the other man’s eyes, and she barely repressed a shiver. Her gaze, however, remained boldly on his. Stern shook his head and glanced at Calavicci before turning to the man grasping Kara’s wrists behind her. “Cuff her to the chair, Ensign.” With barely a glance to the Captain, he added, “Foster, with me,” on his way out the door.
Once Belsterling did as he was ordered, performing his task as quickly as he possibly could, Kara and Al were once again left alone.