New Caprica was a wasteland.
Once the promise land, it had quickly fallen short of any promise it'd even remotely tried to make. Sure, they weren't running from the cylons anymore. Not in the sky, anyway. They weren't shooting them down with vipers, hopping from one location to the next, running on empty fear and adrenaline. Now, they were fighting on the ground. The rebels would meet at midnight in one tent or another, plot for days, and then, by the end of it, something would blow up. A tent. A building. A marketplace. Humans would get injured and die. Cylons would fall and regenerate. A vicious cycle.
Lucius was, somehow, caught in the middle of it. No, he knew exactly how--he'd been idiotic enough to get on the bad side (and the loaded barrel) of the one doctor in their campsite. Now, the only way for him to make some sort of peace with her, was to work with her. She rarely called him in for standard procedure vaccines--oh, no. Lucius got the fun stuff.
A bomb went off near the concrete slab that was the cylon headquarters. Game on. Just as he predicted, no sooner had he arrived at the site then he ran into Dr. Reese, who barked orders at him to go recover survivors around the side of the building.
He stepped over crunching, burning rock. One empty vessel--a two, by the looks of it--limp on the ground. Good riddance. But then--
There was a Six. He saw her jerk--cough. She was still alive, caught under pilings. Just the sight of her blonde hair made his stomach curl. He knew that face. He'd seen the life strip away from it, bit by bit. He'd stood across from the thing and tortured it, humiliated it. He'd even let the others--
Well. No room for that thought, not now. No room for thought period. Just reactions. Kept things simple. He walked over to her and quickly crouched down, throwing the weight of his shoulder under the pile of debris to push it off of her. "It's alight," he murmured, static, rehearsed lines coming out quickly. He glanced back at her and he tried, "Y'alright? Can ya hear me?"
