Battlestar Galactica-04-Rebellion Read online

  "You won't tell me where it is?" Cassi asked.

  "No," Apollo said, taking her small, slender hand in his. He smiled, and he could tell from the warmth in her face that she was as eager as he was to get away for a few moments, and glad to be going with him. "It's a surprise."

  "Let's go," Cassi said. "It's been a long time since I've had a surprise. Even if you had one recently!"

  Apollo laughed one of his rare, true, long laughs. "You're right, Cassi! One turn deserves another, although I don't think this will be so star-shattering."

  Athena found Starbuck right outside of Bay Three playing pyramid. She had maybe a centon before she had to get back to the Daedalus and maybe she was crazy—she wanted to spend it with Starbuck.

  Nobody knew how long things would hold together—literally, considering the bomb. And Athena knew better than anybody how little fuel they really had left. But nobody's problems would matter much longer if they didn't have any air to breathe. When the fuel went, so went the air scrubbers. What happened to Protea's ship is what could happen to everyone.

  Starbuck did a double take when he saw her, and she could tell by his face that he was surprised to see her.

  "Got you," she said as she approached the group. The other, younger pilots who were playing with Starbuck smiled up at her. They were obviously young cubs, completely ignorant of what they'd gotten themselves into.

  "I—I'm sorry, Athena," Starbuck mumbled—it was obvious he'd forgotten all about their plans. He tried, unsuccessfully, to hide his hand from her.

  Athena rolled her eyes and shook her head, watching the other players' reactions. One of them immediately threw down two more cubits, and the others soon followed.

  "Oh, Starbuck," she said in a downcast tone.

  He looked up at her, completely confused. She had seen his hand: he was one card short of a perfect pyramid.

  One of the other pilots actually chuckled as he upped his ante one more time with another golden cubit.

  Starbuck put his ante in and nodded a single time for just one card.

  Athena actually groaned this time.

  "Athena!" Starbuck exclaimed. Turning to the others, he said, "She doesn't know a thing about cards, gentlemen. You know these women."

  The others laughed and nodded. They laughed even more when Athena punched Starbuck's shoulder, right in the deltoid where she knew it would hurt the most.

  Starbuck cried out, and looked up at her, completely astonished and hurt.

  " 'These women,'" Athena said under her breath. "You'll pay for that." It was always an adventure with Starbuck. Athena watched eagerly as she watched the others fold their hands. Terrible hands! Starbuck looked up at Athena again, and as the others shook their heads and said, "I'm out," it began to dawn on him what she had done.

  "One card short of a perfect pyramid," Starbuck said, throwing down his hand and raking the pile of golden cubits toward him.

  "Fracking cards!" one of the young pilots cried. "That's it for me."

  "Me too," a second one said. Soon the other three were gone as well.

  "Were you trying to spoil my game?" Starbuck asked in a hurt tone.

  Athena knelt by Starbuck, gathering up the cards the others had left. She looked at Starbuck, wondering if he'd finally acknowledge that she'd made that sacrifice, staying just to see him.

  "I was hoping we could spend some time together," she said, after letting him twist for a suitable period.

  "Oh!" he said, slapping his forehead. "The guys were getting a game together and—"

  "I understand," Athena said, though she really didn't. That wasn't exactly true, she thought. She did understand. Starbuck was just never going to grow up. Sure, he was worried about Dalton, but he'd probably given no more than a micron's thought to the bigger problems they all faced. His life was cards, drinking, and the ever-present schemes that he was always positive were going to make him the richest man in the fleet. But Athena had decided that she liked him just the way he was.

  She remembered what her father Adama had said. The fruit didn't fall far from the tree, and Starbuck's father had been a hustler. A charming man, always changing, but still a hustler, restless and always on the move. That was why they called him Chameleon. Starbuck wasn't like his father—in fact, sparks had flown whenever they'd met. But he did have something of his father's restlessness. Athena had quietly watched Starbuck's wild relationship with Cassi for yahrens.

  Cassi was too gentle for Starbuck. Too trusting, and too nice. It was always so easy for Starbuck to… forget her. Cassi never pushed Starbuck.

  Athena knew that Starbuck would never forget her. Athena and Apollo were alike in more ways than one. Like their beloved father Adama, they chose not dozens or hundreds of friends like casual Starbuck, but a few careful, select, special companions. Athena let Starbuck into her life, not the other way around, although Starbuck acted like he considered Athena his greatest conquest.

  No one conquered Athena. But maybe, with a little time and careful planning, Athena could not just conquer Starbuck, they could become real partners. Maybe even… be sealed.

  Meanwhile, Athena's quarry, Starbuck, was happily stowing his cubits away. "Hey," he said. "You convinced those guys I had daggit food for a hand. You—"

  "That's right," Athena said. "And I expect you put those winnings to good use."

  Starbuck, who thought of cubits like a chubby child thinks of candy, opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. As far as he was concerned, "good use" was right there in his pocket.

  "I want flowers and ambrosa," Athena prompted.

  Starbuck frowned, and considering a moment. "Yes, of course," he said somewhat reluctantly. "Flowers and ambrosa. Why didn't I think of it?"

  "You're learning," Athena said, rising slowly and turning so that Starbuck could get a good look at how well she filled out her uniform. "Flowers and ambrosa cover a multitude of sins."

  Starbuck laughed. "Where are we supposed to get flowers and ambrosa?" he asked.

  "You'll see," she said.

  She'd already seen it by Bay Four. They'd found flowers on that captured barge. The traitors had been taking a lot of unnecessary items over to the Rising Star. Turning and smiling over her shoulder, she said, "Come on, Starbuck. Time's a wasting. I want to make this a night you'll never forget."

  "I already won forty-three cubits," Starbuck said as he followed. "I'm not about to forget that!"

  "They're selling the extras to the highest bidder," Athena said. The proceeds would go toward the families of the people who had died in the terrible accident.

  But before they left the "charity sale," he was wishing he could forget: the flowers alone—beautifully lavender Dnigibian orchids in stasis—the flowers alone cost forty cubits. The magnum of real Protean ambrosa—none of that synthesized stuff tonight—the magnum of ambrosa cost thirty.

  It was good that there was enough of it to dull the ache where his winnings had been.

  Silently, Cassi moved close to Apollo as they stood beneath the perfect, clear dome of the Celestial Chamber. Up here, above Galactica's great engines, now silent because the Tylium had all gone dark, Apollo thought it was as though they stood on the horizon of the world, and all the heavens spun above them. It was so quiet that all Apollo could hear was his own breathing.

  Apollo wondered if this was the last time he'd get the chance to come to this precious place in his heart. The fate of the Galactica itself was in doubt. But if he was spending his last moments in this wondrous place, he was glad that Cassi was at his side. Cassi, delicate and feminine, made no noise, but he could feel her warmth beside him.

  Without thinking, Apollo put his arm around her shoulders and drew her close, gazing up at the Ur cloud, flashes of brilliant purple, orange, blue, and pink like lightning among planet-bound clouds. But these were no ordinary clouds. They were like the birth of matter at the beginning of time. Maybe this was what it looked like when the universe began, Apollo thought. So many times he
had come here by himself, to work, to gather his thoughts. Deep values were in Apollo like veins of gold. Like his father before him, Apollo believed in a higher power, in the Lords of Kobol, and in the lore of their people. Apollo knew the difference between good and evil. He knew that he would always choose good, because that was his place.

  If it hadn't been for people like his father, none of the fleet would have survived. All of the colonies would have fallen to the arrogant, cruel and wanton destruction of Iblis, the demon leader of the Cylons. And perhaps, to Baltar.

  There was order in the universe, Apollo knew. Good outbalanced evil. But now Adama was gone. Even though it seemed there was no way out of this trap in which the fleet struggled, and the people themselves seemed no longer to believe in their journey, Apollo stood with Cassi beneath the Celestial Chamber dome, looking up at the heavens gone mad.

  "It's beautiful," Cassi said.

  "You should see the real stars," Apollo said. "The way it looks when we're—" Apollo stopped. Would the Galactica ever find a way out of this trap? Fly once more between the stars in search of home?

  Cassi seemed to read his thoughts. "We'll find a way out," she said suddenly, with great passion. "The teams will find that bomb. We'll figure out how to help the people, too."

  "Cassi," Apollo said, drawing her close and putting his face in her soft, fragrant hair.

  "You'll find the way out, Apollo," Cassi said, drawing her arms around his waist. "I know. I trust you."

  "Cassi," he said again, raising her face to kiss her, hearing her name catch with emotion in the back of his throat. She was so beautiful, like an innocent young girl, although Apollo knew that she had seen so much. Maybe it wasn't what people had experienced, but what stayed with them—what they chose to let stay—that made someone either hardened and bitter, like Baltar, or innocent, sweet and loving like Cassi.

  How had Apollo taken Cassi for granted for so long?

  She was the most beautiful woman on Galactica. Her lips were the warmest lips he had ever kissed. Her body was like warm water in his hands.

  Only love could make order of the world, he thought, as he gently lowered her to the deck. He pushed his tools aside. It was no romantic bed, but Cassi didn't seem to care, and neither did Apollo. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted any woman, even Serina. And now, as he gently kissed Cassi and ran his hands up and down her slender but lovely body, so warm, so yielding, hard in unexpected places, muscled here and there, soft in other places, he made love to her like he'd never made love before.

  And Cassi responded, setting Apollo's body on fire. Every muscle in his body was tense, then relaxed, and it was like the energy of the universe flowed through the two of them, joining them. There wasn't much talk, just their names, murmured over and over. Sometimes, Cassi said, "Yes!" in a joyful cry. Suddenly Apollo realized what Starbuck had held in his hands all those yahrens, and thrown away, in his carefree way.

  "You're a treasure," he said suddenly.

  Her face turned to him and there were tears in her glowing eyes. She said nothing; her body spoke for her.

  "Oh, Starbuck! These are the same flowers that my father always loved!" Athena cried. They had drunk enough of the ambrosa on the way to the viper pod that maintenance had refused to issue one. To Starbuck and Athena!

  The nerve of them!

  Oh well. Something to be embarrassed about when they were sober. Just now all Athena could think of was the way her father Adama had loved the lavender orchids and how they'd made him think of Athena's mother.

  Athena loved flowers, she decided. She'd keep these flowers forever.

  And Starbuck, too. Starbuck was the handsomest man she had ever seen. Handsomer than her own brother, and to tell the truth, Athena had always thought Apollo was just about perfect. Well, Starbuck was, too. And the flowers were perfect. Her mind went back to the sectare that Adama had told Athena and Apollo about the flowers. She remembered smelling them, how sweet they were, how beautiful the unique, curved white blossoms were, with a hint of pink on the inside.

  "Real pretty," Starbuck said, joining her beside the flowers. Then he grabbed her and kissed her deeply. Athena felt electric warmth fire up and down her body. Suddenly she wanted Starbuck. Badly. But there were also the flowers. The corridor outside the viper pod spun a little around her.

  But first, they'd take the bouquet to Apollo's quarters. She had to show them off to him. So beautiful!

  She told Starbuck that Apollo was still on the bridge with Tigh. As far as she knew, that was the truth. But if they found Apollo at home, it wouldn't matter.

  He'd be glad about the flowers, and remember right away Adama's story about their mother.

  Even if the night had started badly, it was finishing brilliantly.

  "Starbuck!" she said, pulling away from his greedy lips, "Let's take these flowers to Apollo's. We can say hello, then—"

  "Yeah," Starbuck said, grinning. "Then—" He winked at her and pinched her rear. It was crude, but fun. Just like Starbuck!

  Soon, they were singing and laughing down the corridor to Apollo's quarters.

  Athena put in the entry code; the door slid open. "Apollo!" she called. There was no answer. "He's not home," she said, turning to Starbuck, suddenly feeling very sad.

  "Don't cry," Starbuck said, kissing her again, and brushing a tear away from the corner of her eye.

  "Apollo?" Athena called, half-heartedly.

  "Come on," Starbuck said, laughing. He pulled her farther into Apollo's quarters.

  "Starbuck," she said, but even to her inebriated ears, it sounded like she had really said, "Yes."

  "Come on," he replied, more serious this time.

  "It's Apollo's bed!" she cried, sounding as amazed as if she'd seen the bed materializing unexpectedly on the bridge.

  "Well, he doesn't use it much," Starbuck said in a practical tone. Soon they were both together on the bed, Athena laughing and Starbuck working hard to peel the uniform off Athena's body.

  Romance was supposed to be serious, Athena thought. She almost felt like there was a tiny Athena perched on her shoulder, telling her that she shouldn't be romping with Starbuck on Apollo's bed. She looked around the room at Apollo's spare, carefully chosen things. Always so orderly and so careful. Starbuck threw her jacket away, and Athena watched it hit Galactica's seal and hang, right from the top point of the star.

  "Starbuck!" she cried, wriggling to free herself. He followed her glance and saw the jacket hanging.

  "I've never seen a better place to hang a jacket," Starbuck said.

  "Starbuck, it's Galactica's symbol!" she cried.

  "It's very nice," Starbuck said, his voice muffled as he kissed her neck. "Not as nice as you."

  "Starbuck," she said, her voice changing. "Starbuck, stop!"

  "What?" he said, laughing.

  Athena crossed her arms and scooted away from him.

  "I'm just some girl to you," she said.

  "No," Starbuck protested.

  "I don't care what you say, Starbuck," Athena said, her head clearing. "I don't know why I was doing this—what got into me."

  Starbuck's brow wrinkled. "The ambrosa?" he suggested.

  "A joke!" she cried. "Starbuck, I don't know—maybe you'll never be able to really make a commitment. But I know that—"

  "Hey," Starbuck said. "Don't get so…"

  "So what, Starbuck? Serious?"

  "Well, yeah," he said, sitting back. He tried again to kiss her and she brushed him back.

  "Real love is serious, Starbuck," Athena said. She reached for her jacket, but it hung just beyond her fingers. Suddenly her body went ice-cold, recognizing danger before her mind did. She saw Starbuck turning, noticing for the first time that he had somehow removed his jacket, and she heard a voice, calling Apollo's name.

  A deep, unpleasant voice.

  "Apollo?" the man called. "The door to your quarters was open."

  Starbuck was off the bed as fast as a snake striking, hur
ling the covers over Athena and crouching to face the intruder.

  "Apollo's not here," Starbuck said, his voice low and full of danger. Athena saw his laser pistol in his hand.

  "I see," the voice said. Then Baltar stepped into Apollo's sleeping quarters, his wicked face grinning.

  "I should have killed you when I had the chance," Starbuck snarled.

  "Lucky you, Starbuck," Baltar said, staring at Athena. Then he chuckled. "Are you sure you can handle her?"

  "Handle me!" Athena cried.

  "You know what I mean," Baltar told her.

  Starbuck aimed the laser at Baltar, and he nearly fired, but then his face changed—he grew uncertain.

  Athena watched all the different emotions battling on Starbuck's face, and finally with a groan, he slapped his forehead in frustration, and sat on the bed, hanging his head and muttering, "Apollo would kill me. I want to blast him, but Apollo would just kill me."

  "Is this the behavior I'd expect from a daughter of Adama?" Baltar asked. "The fleet in peril, a rebellion in full swing, and this is what you choose to do?"

  "No," Athena said coldly. "It is not." And she gathered her jacket and left.

  Starbuck jumped up and ran after her, but it was far too late. Neither of them saw the way Baltar was grinning as he settled back on Apollo's rumpled bed.

  In sickbay, Koren lay on his bed, wondering when he'd be well enough to go back home. His dad was bound to be worried.

  Cassi was gone; she'd gone off with Apollo. Koren didn't trust Apollo at all. He wondered if he was going to do something bad to Cassi.