Gods, these people were dense – or at least, they were sure playing the role of idiots well. Where did they think she was going to go on as little fuel and oh-two as the plane had been supplied with? She couldn’t have even made it to Cuba (as they’d suggested more than once), if her rudimentary knowledge of the globe was correct. The best she was hoping was a nice, empty field where she could finish the repairs and get more fuel. And as for motive? Frak – she just wanted back what rightfully belonged to the Colonial Fleet! She looked pointedly at the ceiling, slumping down against the metal back of the chair.
“Kara Thrace,” she began quietly, her voice barely audible even in the quiet room where all the attention was focused on her. Then, with a touch more volume, she added. “Captain, Colonial Air Force. 46-27-53.” She turned her dark, unyielding gaze on both Foster and Stern, smiling terribly. She spoke her name again, louder, repeating her rank and the serial number on her tags. And then again. And again.
Foster pushed away from the table, coming around to loom over her. “Listen here, you little bitch, you couldn’t have repaired that plane on your own. Who’s helping you? Where are you from?”
She grinned up at him, calmly repeating her credentials. Couldn’t he see how much it delighted her to get him so heated and angry? Despite the cheap thrill, though, she was a little disappointed. If she’d been the CO in this situation, the impudent little man would have been pulled off the questioning as soon as it was apparent how easily he was rattled.
She looked at Stern in time to see him exhale a weary breath and lean across the table, not even bothering to call Foster off. “Fine. You’re uncrackable. Good show, Captain Thrace.” The use of her proper title should have felt like a victory, but it didn’t. Rather, it rattled around hollowly within her, and she fell silent, glaring at the older man insolently. She wanted to scream that she had nothing to lose, that she was already lost, and if they wanted to throw her in prison, that was just frakking fine with her. But she couldn’t. She was holding onto the fading hope she’d still make it back to the Fleet somehow, and she even she couldn’t manage that from the confines of a cell (or worse, an institution).
Kara straightened up as much as she could with her arms bound behind her, fixing Stern with a level look. “You ever think you’re just not asking the right questions, Commander?” So this was it – it was tit-for-tat time. She still didn’t intend to give anything over, but she was sure curious as to what they’d gathered about her base on her dearly departed Viper.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2010-05-13 05:23 pm (UTC)“Kara Thrace,” she began quietly, her voice barely audible even in the quiet room where all the attention was focused on her. Then, with a touch more volume, she added. “Captain, Colonial Air Force. 46-27-53.” She turned her dark, unyielding gaze on both Foster and Stern, smiling terribly. She spoke her name again, louder, repeating her rank and the serial number on her tags. And then again. And again.
Foster pushed away from the table, coming around to loom over her. “Listen here, you little bitch, you couldn’t have repaired that plane on your own. Who’s helping you? Where are you from?”
She grinned up at him, calmly repeating her credentials. Couldn’t he see how much it delighted her to get him so heated and angry? Despite the cheap thrill, though, she was a little disappointed. If she’d been the CO in this situation, the impudent little man would have been pulled off the questioning as soon as it was apparent how easily he was rattled.
She looked at Stern in time to see him exhale a weary breath and lean across the table, not even bothering to call Foster off. “Fine. You’re uncrackable. Good show, Captain Thrace.” The use of her proper title should have felt like a victory, but it didn’t. Rather, it rattled around hollowly within her, and she fell silent, glaring at the older man insolently. She wanted to scream that she had nothing to lose, that she was already lost, and if they wanted to throw her in prison, that was just frakking fine with her. But she couldn’t. She was holding onto the fading hope she’d still make it back to the Fleet somehow, and she even she couldn’t manage that from the confines of a cell (or worse, an institution).
Kara straightened up as much as she could with her arms bound behind her, fixing Stern with a level look. “You ever think you’re just not asking the right questions, Commander?” So this was it – it was tit-for-tat time. She still didn’t intend to give anything over, but she was sure curious as to what they’d gathered about her base on her dearly departed Viper.