Battlestar Galactica-04-Rebellion Page 12

  As he lay there with his arms crossed behind his head, he was surprised to see someone approach. At first, he thought it was Doctor Salik, but when he sat up and really focused, he realized it was somebody else.

  An old man, very important. He knew the man's face even though he'd only seen him on a comm screen before. This was the same guy his dad always talked to. He was the one who…

  "Hello, Koren!" said Sire Aron in a cheerful voice.

  "Hi," Koren said.

  "Listen, your father has asked me to bring you back. Would you like to go home now?"

  "Yeah!" Koren said, jumping off the bed despite his bad leg.

  The doctor wasn't around, and Koren felt bad about leaving without saying goodbye to Cassi, but he was really glad he was going to see his dad again.

  He followed the old man out of sickbay. How did old guys like that get around in those big robes, he wondered.

  Man, the Galactica was a big ship. Koren's leg was really aching. They walked a long, long way.

  Apollo lay in peaceful bliss, Cassi cradled in his arms, looking up and wondering at the star cloud shining and flashing overhead through the Celestial Chamber dome. He had never felt so at peace. Even with all the danger around them, and Galactica's uncertain fate, somehow, Apollo knew that they would find a way out.

  "You're wonderful," Cassi murmured. "I'm glad I waited."

  "Me too," Apollo said, turning and gently stroking her golden hair away from her face.

  Then Cassi suddenly cried out and jumped away.

  Apollo heard an aggravating buzz and saw a red flash through the fabric of his tunic. Cassi had been using it as a pillow, and the noise and vibration had alarmed her.

  "It's all right," Apollo said, seeing that it was no new major problem, just Baltar wandering once more. "It's just... Baltar." His voice sank in despair.

  "Baltar!" she cried, even more frightened.

  "He's on the loose again," Apollo said, getting to his feet. "Gods—there's a bomb ticking somewhere on the Battlestar, and now Baltar is loose. What next? I've got to find him."

  "Oh, Apollo," Cassi said, her face full of fear and worry.

  "This won't take long," Apollo said. "Why don't you get dressed, and wait for me in my quarters?" he asked.

  Cassi thought for a moment, then shook her head.

  "I should check on Koren," she said. "I'll come later."

  "Are you sure?" Apollo asked. After what they had just shared, Apollo was reluctant to let her out of his sight for a centon. Of all times for Baltar to go wandering—he had to give the old man credit. If Baltar's goal was to make Apollo's life a Hades hole, he was succeeding.

  "Yes, it's all right," Cassi said. "Go take care of Baltar. Make sure he doesn't cause any trouble."

  Smiling, Apollo embraced Cassi gently. She buttoned his tunic for him, and he kissed her for one last time.

  "Be careful," she said softly. "Baltar is dangerous."

  "I can handle Baltar," Apollo said. But he wished that he didn't have to. Not with everything else. Not even if nothing else was falling apart.

  At once, he felt deep guilt for taking the few moments with Cassi. With everything going crazy the way it was, he couldn't believe that he'd thought that was right. But it was too late now.

  With a deep breath, Apollo left the Celestial Chamber and traced Baltar's glowing red signal through the Galactica. With each step, Apollo became more convinced that there was something very odd about this new escape hijinks. At first, Apollo had thought that Baltar was headed right back to the bar for some more stolen libations, but then Baltar's direction changed. Apollo followed the signal resolutely all the while thinking about the choice curses he'd apply to the old villain to repay him for interrupting his tryst with Cassiopeia.

  When the signal finally stopped blinking and became solid red, a harsh tone buzzing from the alarm, Apollo stopped short and looked up, only to find himself at the door to his own quarters.

  "What?" he said. The door was partially open.

  Apollo entered, ready for anything.

  "Baltar!" Apollo called, his fists already clenched.

  Apollo searched everywhere, finally looking into his sleeping quarters.

  And there he found Baltar, reclining in the reading chair beside the bed, arms crossed behind his head, whistling an old Colonial tune. Baltar's legs were crossed at the ankle, and something about his position made the tracking device look almost merry with its bright red gleam.

  He was smoking one of Starbuck's fumarellos.

  "This is the life, Apollo," he said. "Have I told you how I envy you?"

  As before, Baltar didn't seem to be affected by the severe pain the device caused, pain that would have hobbled an ordinary man in an instant. In fact, Apollo thought, Baltar looked… happy.

  "Found your bomb yet?" Baltar asked.

  Apollo ignored the question. Of course he ignored it! He was too busy noticing that the covers of his bed were thrown all over the room.

  "Have you been sleeping in my bed?" Apollo demanded.

  Slowly, Baltar faced Apollo, not moving his legs an inch and barely adjusting his arms. "Ah, Apollo," he said. "Me, sleep here? No, not at all."

  Apollo, always tidy, noticed that the symbol of the Galactica that hung on the wall beside his bed was off-center.

  "Baltar, what are you, were you, doing in here?" Apollo asked as he straightened the six-pointed polished metal star.

  "I had nothing to do with that, if that's what you mean," Baltar said, looking at the symbol.

  "I'm supposed to believe that you just 'happened' to come in and find things in this condition?" Apollo glared at Baltar, who was still making himself extremely comfortable. It had taken a while; suddenly the whole impact of Baltar, reclining in Apollo's private, personal… his own lounging in Apollo's favorite chair… sank in.

  "Baltar, would you get out of my chair!" Apollo cried in disgust and frustration.

  "Oh, all right," Baltar grumbled. He pushed out of the chair and stood. "I'm not the first person to use this place this evening," he added under his breath.

  "What?" Apollo demanded, ready to leap at the glowering form that hunched on his bed and strangle him.

  "I said," Baltar repeated in a louder tone. "I'm not the first person to use your quarters this evening."

  At his wit's end, Apollo grabbed some of his bed covers and began twisting them. "Now, what is that supposed to mean?" If anybody else was "using" his bed, it would be Cassiopeia, and Apollo knew exactly where she and he had both been for the previous couple of centars.

  "Oh, a little bird named… Athena," Baltar said, putting his finger to his forehead in a mockery of thought.

  "Athena!" Apollo cried. "Baltar, you've gone insane. What would Athena be doing in here destroying my bedroom?"

  "She wasn't alone, you know," Baltar continued.

  This was far too much for Apollo. He strode up to Baltar and grabbed the old villain's collar and lifted him halfway from the bed.

  "Enough riddles," Apollo said. "Say what you mean, or I'll…" Apollo let his clenched fist show Baltar the rest of the message.

  For the first time, Baltar's dark eyes showed a glimmer of fear.

  "Athena was here with Starbuck," Baltar said. "I came in by chance, and I found them."

  "What do you mean?" Apollo said. "Here, with Starbuck? Were they waiting for me?"

  "Uh, not exactly," Baltar said with a nervous smile.

  "Were they ill? Arguing? Playing a joke?"

  Baltar shook his head.

  "What were they doing in my sleeping quarters?" Apollo demanded.

  "What all young people in love do," Baltar said.

  "You're not saying…" Baltar nodded, his face solemn.

  "You walked in on my sister and Starbuck—" Apollo gave a brief cry, and threw Baltar away from him across the bed, as if the old villain was made of hot coals. "No!" Apollo said, staggering away, and covering his face in shock and shame. From the sheer stress of this
revelation, Apollo began to laugh.

  When he looked back at Baltar, he laughed even harder, because he saw an expression that he'd never, in all his yahrens, seen on Baltar's evil face. Baltar was blushing!

  "I didn't mean any disrespect to your sister," Baltar said.

  "My sister?" Apollo asked between laughs. "You didn't mean… disrespect… to Athena?"

  "I'd like to know what's so funny," Baltar said, crossing his arms, suddenly petulant.

  "Your face," Apollo said, pointing at Baltar. "You were blushing."

  "No!" Baltar cried, and his hand went instinctively to his cheek.

  "You were. You were embarrassed!"

  "Me?" Baltar asked. The old, imperious scowl came over his face. "Never!" he cried.

  "You stay here," Apollo commanded. "Don't you move an inch until I get back."

  Baltar began to protest as Apollo left. Apollo paused, turning.

  "Wait," Apollo said. "You can move an inch, but there's no reason for you not to make yourself useful while I'm gone. Clean up this mess!" he added, gesturing around his sleeping quarters.

  "Apollo, wait," Baltar said, but it was too late.

  Apollo was off to find Starbuck as fast as his long legs could carry him, and he had a good idea where he'd find him. Lords of Kobol! He should be doing something about the rebellion! Finding the bomb or dealing with the Council. Finding a way out of this cloud.

  But, Apollo, he reminded himself—you're not out there in a Viper. Troy is, with Dalton, Trays, Boomer and Bojay. And all the rest. They've got to do their jobs. No one man can find a way out of this, he reminded himself.

  Right now, Starbuck was going to suffer.

  Chapter Five

  APOLLO SPOTTED Starbuck's golden blond head in the Viper bay corridor, right where Athena found him earlier. Only he wasn't playing pyramid. He was sitting on the floor, his head was hanging down, his chin almost resting on his arms that fenced a flask. The whole effect was like a daggit jealously guarding a meal he had no intention of eating. This wasn't the first time Apollo had spotted Starbuck in this condition. It was probably the thousandth time, but as Apollo looked at his friend and noticed the three long red scratches on Starbuck's cheek, he didn't feel one ounce of pity, and that was a different feeling.

  This time, all Apollo felt looking at Starbuck was anger. Starbuck—incapable of taking anything seriously.

  "I hope that was a good drink," Apollo said, storming up to Starbuck.

  Bleary-eyed, Starbuck raised his head and said, "Oh, it's you, Apollo. Have a seat."

  "Sure," Apollo said, but he didn't sound friendly.

  "It's been a hell of a night," Starbuck said, raising the flask. He rubbed the scratches on his cheek, wincing. It couldn't have been as bad for Starbuck as it had been for Apollo, but it would be hard for Starbuck to see or care about that.

  "Who gave you those?" Apollo could guess, but he wanted to hear it straight from Starbuck.

  Ashamed, Starbuck looked away. "Athena," he said, grimacing.

  "We've been friends a long time, haven't we?" Apollo asked Starbuck.

  Starbuck laughed. "Are you nuts? We've been friends forever."

  Apollo didn't respond, and a confused look came over Starbuck's chiseled face, marred by the lurid scratches.

  "Apollo, is there something you're not telling me?" Starbuck said, hesitating.

  "Maybe there's something you need to tell me, old friend," Apollo said. He never thought he could speak so coldly to Starbuck. Why, he loved Starbuck like a brother. More than a brother. But Athena was his sister, and more than that, she was Adama's daughter.

  It was the whole situation that angered him. There were lines that you just didn't cross, but Starbuck didn't seem to know what those lines were. It was bad enough that Starbuck had taken Cassiopeia for granted all those yahrens, but now he was starting in with Athena, and starting in at a time when they were facing destruction from all sides. Athena! Beautiful, virtuous daughter of Adama, fearless and proud. Apollo didn't know whom he was angrier about. Cassi, gorgeous, sweet, loving Cassi, or Athena.

  Had the Galactica just fought so long that they were forgetting everything? What happened to being tough, being honorable? Everything was falling apart, and Apollo didn't know where to turn.

  All he knew was that he'd tolerated Starbuck's foibles for yahrens. Apollo couldn't believe that he'd always laughed at Starbuck. Because it wasn't him—Apollo would never even consider treating a woman the way Starbuck did.

  But now Apollo knew firsthand the other side of things. Starbuck was a fool, using Cassi the way he had. He had thrown away… pure gold. But this thing with Athena was totally different.

  "Apollo, what's got into you?" Starbuck said, laughing. "Come on, have a drink. I've had a rough night."

  "It's about to get rougher," Apollo said in a low, dangerous voice.

  "Hey," Starbuck said, trying again to laugh things off. "Look, Athena and I just had a little… disagreement."

  "Would that… disagreement… have had anything to do with Baltar?"

  Starbuck winced again, and Apollo could see the guilt in his eyes.

  "You weren't going to say a thing, were you?" Apollo said.

  "Well, uh," Starbuck said.

  "You thought you could just march right into my private sleeping quarters and have a…" Apollo paused, realizing that there were other people in the corridor, and they had started to stare.

  "Let's move along," he said to Starbuck in a menacing voice. Apollo gave Starbuck a strong shove in the middle of his back to help him on his way.

  "I can explain, Apollo," Starbuck said.

  "I've heard your explanations before," Apollo said. "I don't want to hear them any more."

  "Apollo!" Starbuck said.

  "This is the last time," Apollo said. "I trusted you. Counted on you. All you can think of is having a good time! If you don't even have any respect for my quarters, or my sister—or Cassiopeia—then I'm going to do my talking with my fists."

  "Apollo, please," Starbuck pleaded, but now they were far down the corridor and there was no one else around.

  Starbuck turned to face Apollo.

  "No more," Apollo said. "You're not going to treat Athena the way you always treat…"

  Starbuck had never been a coward. Apollo watched Starbuck's expression change from concern and worry to a fighting scowl.

  "If you want to go," Starbuck said, raising his fists, "Let's go."

  Somewhere inside, Apollo knew that this was the exact wrong thing to do, but he didn't care any longer. Fighting adrenaline surged through Apollo's veins as he feinted and easily avoided Starbuck's swing. Ducking low, he powered into Starbuck, doubling him over and landing two or three good blows in Starbuck's mid-section.

  Apollo heard Starbuck grunt in pain; it sounded fantastic.

  Swiveling quickly, he threw Starbuck to the deck. Now that Starbuck was down, Apollo really had the advantage, and he delivered a thundering right to Starbuck's face, breaking a cut above Starbuck's eye.

  "Ow!" Starbuck cried.

  "There's more where that came from," Apollo heard himself saying. Had he said that? That sounded like something Starbuck would say during a fight. Apollo was usually a silent fighter. He was far too angry to realize that Starbuck was drunk and not up to his usual excellent reaction times.

  He slammed Starbuck in his gut with another bone jarring punch.

  "Apollo!" cried a woman's voice.

  "Stop!" It was yet another woman.

  Apollo's eyes were filmed with red. He turned to see Cassi and Athena running toward them from the end of the corridor.

  "Oh, no," he said. But whatever else he was going to say was cut short by Starbuck, who wasn't too drunk to take advantage of Apollo's distraction. A fist that seemed to fly out of nowhere connected with Apollo's nose.

  Suddenly stars flashed in front of Apollo's eyes, and he reeled back. Now he was the one who was down, and a bleeding Starbuck was straddling him, his r
ight fist raised, ready to strike again.

  "Stop right now, you two!" Athena cried.

  Cassi hesitated a moment, but Athena bent down and grabbed Starbuck's shoulders.

  "That's enough," she cried. "You two are going to kill each other. Don't we have trouble enough without this?"

  "Please, Apollo," Cassi said. "Stop."

  At the sight of her worried, lovely face, all of Apollo's rage bled out of him and his face began to burn.

  Starbuck looked shamefaced, too, as he struggled feebly a moment longer, then lowered his fist and climbed off Apollo.

  "Help him up," Athena ordered Starbuck.

  Starbuck looked at her as if she had just asked him to fly a recon mission in only his helmet and pajamas and no Viper.

  "You heard me," she said.

  "All right," he grumbled. Reluctantly, he offered his hand to Apollo.

  After a moment, and a long, encouraging smile from Cassi, Apollo took Starbuck's hand and let him help him up.

  Athena, outraged, began to lecture both of them at once. With relief, Apollo saw that Cassi showed no signs of wanting to join in. But his heart twisted with unaccustomed jealousy as he saw her approach Starbuck and look at the cut over his eye and the scratches on his cheek with great concern. A mouse was already rising over Starbuck's brow, and blood was streaming over his eye like clown's paint.

  "We'd better get you to sickbay," Cassi said to Starbuck.

  "I'm fine," he growled, trying to shake her away. He wouldn't meet Athena's eyes.

  Apollo gingerly touched his nose and thought, "What about me?" But there was no way he was going to say anything in front of Starbuck, even though Apollo could hear the cartilage on the inside of his nose squeaking as he touched it. He'd never give Starbuck the privilege of knowing that he'd hurt him.

  "I can't believe you two," Athena said. Then, she turned her fury back to Starbuck.

  "I should have expected this from you," she said in a disgusted voice. And she turned and stalked off. "I'm going back to work."

  "Athena!" Starbuck cried. He broke away from Cassi, but stopped short.

  Apollo wasn't about to give him any sympathy. But he felt proud of Athena.