Chapter 3
(Adama's POV)

I'm waiting for Cottle to come out and tell us what's wrong and the truth is that I hate waiting, especially when it means not knowing what is going on in my ship, what is happening with my people. The only thing I know is that it looks like Starbuck is sick and that it probably has something to do with Caprica... or at least that's Lee's theory based on Lieutenant Agathon's reaction. The problem is that that theory is far from comforting, especially because if he is right then there has been something wrong with her for several days and we didn't even notice. That, I must admit, is likely to have been at least partially my fault.

I was so relieved to see her back on Kobol --especially because I had assumed that this time around she had finally pushed things too far, that she had finally bitten more than she could chew with that damned mission back to Caprica-- that seeing her standing there in one piece felt almost like a miracle... and I didn't dare question that miracle. The problem is that now it is beginning to look like the part about her being in one piece was an illusion and I'm cursing myself for assuming she was fine. Sure, she looked fine and she held her own on Kobol but I still should have insisted that Cottle give her a complete check up as soon as we came back, just to be on the safe side. That would have been the logical thing to do --especially considering that radiation sickness was a very real possibility-- but with so many things going on at once I have to admit that it never even crossed my mind.

In fact, even though it's been over two days since we rejoined the fleet, I still haven't been able to get around to her debriefing so I'm still not sure of what happened back on that planet. The political situation, the fact that Lieutenant Agathon came back from the dead --bringing with him another copy of Sharon Valerii-- and even my own health all have played a part in me putting off that particular encounter... as has the fact that I know that as soon as I confront her I'm going to have to make an official decision about the fate of the resistance and that is not going to be easy.

The truth is that the fact that there were likely to be survivors on Caprica and on the other colonies is something we should have considered a long time ago --after all the first Boomer came back with a raptor full of children and a report that she had left close to a hundred others behind at a single landing spot-- but at the same time it was something we didn't want to face. It was also something the President and I could forgive ourselves for not thinking about as we struggled to keep the fleet one step ahead of the cylons but now it looks like we won't be able to keep ignoring it for much longer.

The problem is that when we finally acknowledge it we are going to have to acknowledge that the people who were left behind with no hope of escape are our own people... and we are also going to have to acknowledge the fact that there can be no going back, that there can be no rescue mission.

On a rational level I know we can't afford it and that, even if we could, there's no way we could possibly justify a return just to Caprica. That is what makes this whole situation so untenable. If we were to go to Caprica and come back with survivors it would be a disaster. There would be demands from the survivors of all the other colonies that we go back to their own planets to look for their loved ones and that would be impossible... but a refusal to do so would tear the fleet apart, it would pit colony against colony. That is not a risk we can afford to take, not after what we've just been through.

If the fleet is to survive then the fact that there are survivors back in the colonies must remain a secret... and that means that those survivors are doomed. That is not an easy decision for me to make, far from it, but I know it is the only thing we can do... and I also know I am the one who must assume that responsibility because there's no way I can afford to leave it in Laura's hands.

Sure, I'm confident that she would agree with me, that she would make the right decision no matter how hard it was. After all, she already made an equally tough call when she chose to leave the ships without FTL capabilities behind, when she chose to save those she could rather than try to save those she couldn't but things are different now. Back then the situation was so desperate that she could afford to do whatever was necessary without worrying about the political consequences but that is no longer the case. Now there are other things she has to take into account, such as the fact that if Zarek were to get wind of the fact that we refused to go back --and he was with us on Kobol so chances are that he already knows that there are survivors back in the colonies-- he could easily use that as his trump card to win the next election.

That is a risk we can't afford to take and it is also the kind of thing that can make Laura's position so vulnerable but luckily the next election is not something I have to worry about... and in the end the fact that any possible rescue mission would have to involve the military makes the feasibility of such a mission a military decision. It makes it my call.

In fact from a logistical perspective the situation is simple enough: we don't have the resources to even consider it. We have a single battlestar, a limited number of vipers and raptors and there's no way those resources would enable us to attempt a rescue mission without running the risk of fatally crippling the fleet. In addition to that there is also the fact that for something of this magnitude to stand a chance the Galactica herself would have to be directly involved and that would mean that the whole fleet would have to jump back with us or that we would have no choice but to leave the fleet behind with no protection whatsoever. Neither one of those is a viable option and I know it... and that doesn't even begin to take into account the fact that, even if we were to carry out one or two successful rescue operations, after that the cylons would only have to stake out the remaining colonies and wait us out, or the fact that any large group of survivors would have attracted the cylons' attention by now so those survivors are bound to be scattered and disorganized, making any possible rescue all that more difficult.

The problem is that even though that analysis makes perfect sense from a logical and military perspective, if word of the existence of survivors were to spread throughout the fleet, logic would be the last thing on people's minds. If word of this were to spread out then every man, woman and child would demand that we go back in the hope that their loved ones would be among those who are still clinging to life and that is precisely what we can't afford to do.

Of course, I understand. After all, I do realize that that position wouldn't be all that different from the one I took when Kara crashed on that moon a while ago, when I had to choose between attempting to get her back and doing my duty in terms of protecting the fleet, when I openly told Lee that if it had been him on that moon we would never have left. In other words I know that by deciding that we are not going back I will effectively be making on behalf of thousands of others the same decision I couldn't make for myself.

The thing is that what troubles me is not so much the idea of making a decision --in fact that decision has already been made-- but rather the idea of being confronted with exactly what the consequences of that decision are going to be, with what kind of fate I'll be dooming those survivors to. I know that at least in theory the answer to that question is that they'll either be hunted down one by one by the cylons or that the radiation will get them in the end, but up until now that has been mostly a theoretical prospect because I haven't given much thought to the details. Even during Lieutenant Agathon's debriefing --the one I knew could not be postponed-- my main focus was the situation with the cylon in the brig. That provided me with a reasonable excuse to avoid this particular subject but now I'll have no choice but to confront it head on.

Well, I always tell my people not to speculate and the truth is that I won't know how bad the situation really is until I can talk to Kara, until I can figure out exactly what happened to her back on Caprica and what is going on in what used to be my world... though the truth is that it hadn't been my world in a very long time. For years the Galactica has been my world and her crew has been my family. I loved Caroline but that was over, it had been over for a very long time and I knew it, I had made my peace with that fact and she was no longer a part of my life, not like she was a part of Lee's.

Sure, the fact that she didn't make it pains me, it always will, but I know that is nothing compared to what almost everyone else in the fleet has had to deal with. When the cylons attacked Zak was already dead and by some miracle Lee was here with me as was Kara so --even though I lost more friends than I care to remember-- my losses were nowhere near as great as they could have been. I'm not a religious man, I don't really believe in the gods or anything like that but that doesn't keep me from realizing just how lucky I was, how grateful I should be... especially because I still remember those hours when I believed my son to be dead.

In a very odd way I think that that was probably one of the things that made it possible for me to keep going when the worlds ended: the fact that somehow my world survived, the fact that my world wasn't in the colonies, it was up here, it was fighting the cylons till the day I die. This is my life, it has always been, and I know it.

I remember the pain of seeing my ship being turned into a museum all around me and feeling almost like an exhibit myself, just like I remember the stupid arguments about the changes some bureaucrats wanted to implement in order to make the lives of teachers easier, not giving a damn about what the Galactica was supposed to be or about the men and women who died onboard this ship to protect the colonies. I knew even then that that was not the way things were meant to be, that that was not how it was supposed to end... for either one of us.

I will never be grateful that the colonies were lost, of course, but that does nothing to change the fact that I am home, doing what I was always meant to do, and my family is still with me --for the most part-- though I'll certainly feel a lot better once Cottle comes out and tells me exactly what is wrong with Starbuck. I mean, what could possibly be taking him so long?