"It's getting to the point where we can't juggle all of this," Omega said, clearing his throat. He wouldn't meet Athena's eyes. "My brother is, uh…"
"Your brother?" Athena asked.
"He's already on the Rising Star. He had the light cruiser, remember? Just four families. They had zero fuel left after we jumped into this… place," Omega said. "They were counting on the Tylium to regenerate. I didn't want to ask. He asked me, and I didn't want to ask."
Athena looked into Omega's eyes. She saw the worry there, and the shame. He couldn't even help his own family.
"You could have had them come here," Athena said.
Omega shook his head. "No," he said. "We're stacking bodies as it is. And how would that look if an officer of the bridge gave that type of special treatment to…"
"This might not be the worst we have to face," Athena told him.
Omega's eyes went wide, but he didn't say anything for a long moment.
"The barge is on its way," he said. "They'll get those people off the Hestia in time."
All Athena could do was nod.
"I've got to think about this," she said, and headed for her quarters.
"Lords of Kobol," Omega said under his breath. "If it could get worse, I don't know what that would be." He hadn't been entirely truthful with Athena; he had sent some extra food rations to his brother. The food wasn't as bad as the fuel. Nobody would notice that. And no, he hadn't shown favoritism. But what man could see his own family starve when he could do something about it?
Athena started to contact Apollo; she had a terrible sense that he was going through almost the same thing that she was going through—this incredible fear and worry. Then she thought for a moment about Starbuck. No, not that. Now wasn't the time for thinking about Starbuck. There'd be time later.
But as soon as she sat at her private console, it warned her that someone had been trying to get hold of her on her private channel.
Ten attempts!
Athena opened the channel; it was the Hestia. Protea!
"Protea," she said. "I'm so…"
"Athena, thank the Lords," Protea said. At least, the voice sounded like Athena's old friend. But her face, her face!
The hair that Athena remembered as being dark, threaded with silver, was now dull, steel gray. Protea looked like she could be her own grandmother.
"Oh, Protea," Athena said. Her heart jumped. She reached for the comm and began to call Omega. She'd get Protea over to the Daedalus.
"We're starving, Athena," Protea said. "I know that if I tell you directly, you'll help. We've been trying to get messages through for centons, but we get passed around. We can't…"
"Food is very short," Athena told her. "Protea, let me…" Again, Athena reached to call Omega, but Protea interrupted.
"We've been friends many yahrens," Protea said. Then, she smiled, and for a moment, the old Protea, the laughing, quick, lithe girl that Athena remembered always in her heart, came back.
"Yes," Athena said. "Protea, let me help you!"
Protea looked over her shoulder. "They're coming," she said. She must have meant the warriors, to evacuate everyone on Protea's ship.
"Please, you can come here to the Daedalus. We'll find room for you."
"If it was just me, I'd consider that," Protea said. "I'm…" and she paused, sighing. "I'm tired. But it's not just me, Athena. I have my daughter, yes, but there are thirty others."
"Your group of children," Athena said. The program Protea had fought so hard to get going.
"I can't go anywhere without them," she said. "We'll evacuate. Perhaps there will be more food on the Rising Star."
Athena nodded. "Yes," she said. "Apollo has ordered that it be stocked with sufficient rations."
"Thank the Lords," Protea said. "Perhaps…" Again, she looked anxiously over her shoulder.
"Yes?" Athena asked.
"I must go," Protea said. "Athena, I've got to tell you. It's not just that we've been suffering. Some people don't want to…" but she stopped, and a look of total desperation came over her careworn face.
"Some people don't want to what?" Athena asked.
She heard commotion behind Protea.
"I've got to go. Be well, Athena. I'll probably never see you again."
"Protea!" Athena cried.
But the screen went dark.
# # #
"Tigh, you're amazing!" Apollo cried. Somehow, Tigh had worked out a plan for both food and fuel rationing. For the time being, it seemed as though things were stabilizing.
"Thank you," Tigh said. Apollo grinned at him, and reached out to take his hand. But both of them turned to face the comm when a red light flashed.
It was Sheba.
"Apollo," Sheba said in her no-nonsense way. "You need to know right now. We've lost contact with the Viper patrols."
"Boomer and Bojay?" Apollo asked.
"Boomer, Bojay, Dalton, Trays and Troy," Sheba said. "We've launched the other patrols in a search pattern, but so far, there's nothing."
"Launch second patrols," Apollo said. Tigh immediately went to his station, glancing only briefly at Apollo in alarm. Apollo turned his attention back to Sheba. "How? When?"
"Not long ago. It's this cloud," Sheba said. "It's like flying through soup."
"Lords of Kobol," Apollo whispered. He thought of Baltar down in the brig. Baltar probably knew that this would happen. This had to be one of the little tidbits that Apollo sensed the old villain was keeping to himself.
"We've got to be careful, Apollo," Sheba said.
Apollo thought about that a moment. It was hardly a typical comment for Sheba to make. "I know," he said.
"We can only take the Vipers so far. The cloud interferes with communications, and it's not reliable. There's no way to tell."
"Apollo," Tigh said, looking over at him, "That plan."
"Yes?" Apollo said, turning back toward the straight-backed president, who was still at his most useful on the bridge no matter how hard he worked with the Council.
"One launch of an extra patrol of Vipers and there goes our fuel reserves."
"Lords," Apollo said under his breath, considering an oath, but the whole situation was beyond an oath at this point.
"I know," Apollo said so that Tigh could hear him. "But we haven't got any choice. Launch the extra patrols. If we don't find those five long-range Vipers, we'll never find…"
"Understood," Tigh said. In one micron, Tigh reallocated the fuel reserves of six civilian ships; in a few centons, their air scrubbers would stop working. And even the carefully rationed food pellets wouldn't be able to get to them. There wouldn't be enough fuel for that.
Wordlessly, Tigh nodded at Apollo.
Apollo prayed silently, but it felt so empty. And then a wave of pain came over him. Athena! She was calling, from inside.
"I have to go," he told Tigh. Somehow he knew that it wouldn't be good news from the Daedalus, either.
Starbuck had been harboring hopes of a triad game, but that was kind of like wishing he'd wake up and find out that he was King of the Universe. There wasn't too much fun going on anywhere, and Athena was even back on the Daedalus. Starbuck wasn't quite sure why that bothered him; he should be more bothered about Dalton out there on that patrol.
Frack! This cloud was a disaster. He knew that Dalton was okay. It hadn't been that long since they were out of contact. And Starbuck had flown in that cloud enough himself to know how crazy it was out there. It wouldn't be the first time Vipers had lost contact, only to come back perfectly fine.
He was telling himself these things, kind of doing a little pep talk to cheer himself up on the way to the Viper bay when he saw a bunch of skinny, dirty teenaged girls running in a pack straight toward him.
"Hey, easy!" he said. But they ignored him, rushing past.
Shaking his head, Starbuck went on farther. Then he saw the reason they were running. And figured out why they were whooping and hollering.
An old lady was
slumped in the corridor. Blood stained her wild white hair and ran down her face.
"Oh, frack!" Starbuck said, kneeling beside her.
"Help me," the old lady said. Starbuck put his arm around her. He struggled to understand. How? Why?
"Girls!" he called after the fleeing crowd. "Stop!" The old lady really needed help. Torn for a moment, unable to decide, he lost valuable microns. By the time he stood and got out his laser pistol, looking at it with wide eyes—the whole idea of discharging it after a bunch of teenage criminals on the Galactica was totally insane—the girls had disappeared, giggling and bloody-handed, before he could reach them.
"Thank you," the old lady said, and she started to cry.
"Oh, frack," Starbuck said, feeling as out of place and helpless as he would have felt if she had been a baby. How was he supposed to help her? Carry her to sickbay—that was it?
She didn't weigh much; Starbuck was glad about that.
"You're a hero," she said.
Normally, Starbuck blossomed with any type of praise, but he felt horrible. He hadn't realized anything was wrong; it wasn't like you saw teenaged girls running around acting crazy on the Galactica, but then, Starbuck had seen and heard a lot of weird things since the fleet had been thrown into this disaster.
Now they were at the door to sickbay, but Cassiopeia was nowhere to be seen.
Dr. Salik's clerk didn't act much like Starbuck was a hero. Things were just too…
Starbuck suddenly took in the whole scene. You're about as smart as a daggit, he said to himself. Starbuck, what type of fantasy world were you living in while all this was going on? Not like you didn't get really familiar with the whole sickbay routine, but…
It crossed Starbuck's mind that maybe the old lady would have been better off back in the corridor.
"Ma'am, we'll get you some help," he told her, but he felt like a liar. The clerk was still glaring furiously at him. The uproar was deafening. Sick and injured people huddled on the floor, every bed was filled, and Starbuck spotted one medtech who he'd always thought was good-looking hunched over a crying child, stroking her hair and saying, "I know your head hurts. We'll get you some more medicine soon."
The medtech turned, noticing Starbuck, meeting his eyes. Starbuck realized from her expression that there wasn't more medicine for the crying kid. Where was Cassiopeia? Doctor Salik? The medtech wasn't good-looking at all right then. Her hair hung limply and her tunic was stained with blood and other fluids Starbuck didn't want to know about. She said nothing.
"Another one?" the clerk asked in a cold tone. "By Kobol, not another."
"Some girls," Starbuck said. "They attacked her and robbed her. I tried to—"
"There's no more room in the brig than there is here," the clerk snapped.
"I guess not," Starbuck said, smiling. This time, his smile didn't work at all. But the medtech who used to be a nice-looking woman wasn't dead at heart. Soon, she was at the old lady's side, and even found a place for her, far in the back where Starbuck carried the old lady and laid her down.
Starbuck stayed, and did what he could to help. With no training and no medicine and no more beds, there wasn't much he could do. Wasn't much any of them could do.
"Baltar understands," Apollo told Athena. "I don't know why, but he's got the answers that we need."
"He's evil," Athena said, simply.
"I'm going to let him out of the brig," Apollo told her.
Then, Athena told Apollo about the Hestia and her friend Protea.
"She was about to tell me something, Apollo. They were starving, she said. But there was more to it."
"Tigh and I worked it out," Apollo told Athena. "You've got things squared away on the Daedalus. We've rationed everything down to the last ounce of fuel, and the last…"
"I know," Athena said. "But we're at bare minimum. Everybody is. Apollo, I'm not sure what she was trying to say. It was almost like she thought she was going to her death!"
"Everyone's under stress," Apollo said. "We've had to…" He told Athena of Tigh's orders; how the search for the lost patrol had destroyed the delicate balance of food and fuel.
"No matter how bad it gets, I can't believe that Baltar's the answer, Apollo," Athena said. "He's evil through and through."
"Not any more," Apollo said. Athena's eyes went completely wide.
"Apollo, I trust you," she said. "It's Baltar that I can never trust."
The leadership of the Galactica and the fleet was a responsibility Apollo had aspired to all his life; a responsibility that Baltar had wanted so desperately and bitterly that the overwhelming need for it had driven him to evil; a responsibility that Athena was fit for, and one she would have taken in an instant if ever it had fallen to her.
"I'm going to release him under my supervision,""Apollo said.
"Don't do it, Apollo," Athena told him. "Baltar will only make things worse."
"My heart is telling me this is right," Apollo said. "Baltar knows something. He'll never tell sitting there in the brig."
At that moment, Starbuck burst in. He'd heard quite a bit.
"Do what?" Starbuck asked, eyes blazing. "Maybe he'll rob an old lady, too." Starbuck was still burning from the incident with the old woman.
"Apollo, how could Baltar help?" Athena said. "He's always torn people apart, never brought them together."
"Listen to your sister," Starbuck said.
Apollo stood, turning away from the screen with Athena's face, and from Starbuck. He thought, long and hard. He was going to have to make more choices, choices none of them would like.
"I'll put a tracking and security shackle on his ankle," Apollo told Athena, turning back.
"Oh, so then you can be his nursemaid while he goes around sabotaging the Galactica!" Starbuck cried.
Athena felt Apollo's mind at that moment. The understanding that had grown so deep between them flickered. Athena had never thought, not for a micron, that Baltar could be trusted, but she saw into Apollo's heart at that moment. She could never trust Baltar, but she knew Apollo's every fiber, and some of the vision that he had—that he couldn't explain, but knew in his heart—came into her heart.
Starbuck continued complaining, but Athena said, "Starbuck!" in a loud, firm voice. One glance at her expression, and Starbuck fell silent.
"Hey," he said, shrugging. "I don't get it, but you two are in charge."
"I'm going to see Baltar," Apollo announced. Athena nodded. After Apollo left, she kept the connection open. She missed Starbuck. It was so hard, with her on the Daedalus, and Starbuck on the Galactica.
"I don't understand all of it," she told Starbuck. "But we've got to trust Apollo. Baltar is some type of key, even if we would both love to carve him up and jettison the bits out to freeze in this cursed cloud."
"Yeah," Starbuck said, trying to smile. "Maybe Apollo will see the error of his ways and we'll get to chop Baltar into daggit food after all."
Suddenly, an alarm went off. Starbuck looked around; Athena turned back to work.
"Got to go," she said.
"Me, too," he told her. That was all they had time for.
It was the refugees from the Hestia on the barge, in transit to the Rising Star. It was unbelievable, but they were signaling that they were out of fuel. Adrift, helpless, on battery power, with the air growing bad. It was impossible!
"Starbuck, get your Vipers out there. They're…"
"I'm gone!" he cried, running out at full speed.
"I can't understand it," Athena said softly. "How could the barge be out of fuel?"
They were closer to the Galactica than to Daedalus. Now, the only hope was that the Vipers could reach them with extra fuel before the barge's air went bad. They were still centons from the Rising Star. She prayed to the Lords of Kobol that Starbuck would be fast enough.
Protea's words echoed. She'd been so sad; she said that she wouldn't see Athena again. Athena's heart shuddered. She hoped it wouldn't be true. How could it?
Baltar knew how it felt to have eyes cast upon him in hatred.
"How does it feel?" he asked Apollo as Apollo knelt and fastened the security device around Baltar's ankle. It was cold and dark; that was because Baltar was right where he was supposed to be, and Apollo was right there with him.
"What do you mean?" Apollo asked, looking up into Baltar's dark, brooding face.
"To have people hate you," Baltar said.
"Hate me?" Apollo asked. But he felt a sudden quick jolt of fear. Not anger—fear.
"People blamed me for the destruction of Caprica," Baltar said.
Apollo almost laughed. If there was any older news, Apollo didn't know what it would be. Baltar was still hashing over his treachery all those years ago!
"Do their eyes burn into you when you walk past, Apollo? Can you feel their resentment like a… shroud?"
Apollo snapped the device closed. He was rougher than he should have been, but now he was angry with Baltar. There wasn't time for game playing or Baltar's usual lies. They had to…
"People hate you, Apollo. For what you've done."
"What?" Apollo asked. "What are you talking about?"
"You don't need me to advise you on what's happening," Baltar said. "A blind man could see."
"We're having a lot of problems," Apollo said.
Baltar smiled.
"I never knew you to be good at understatement before," he said.
"You're enjoying this!" Apollo cried, springing away from Baltar. "I should never have…"
"No," Baltar said in a gentle voice. His expression looked almost… wise.
Apollo struggled to understand, struggled to see into Baltar's mysterious expression and into his twisted, obsessed heart.
"I won't enjoy walking to my quarters with you, Apollo," Baltar said. "I am grateful for your trust, and that you have released me. And I will take no pleasure in feeling the hatred of the people-directed at your back, friend, and not at mine. For once, not at mine."
Apollo tried to answer, but the old villain had completely struck him silent. What could anybody say to something like that?
Especially since it was true.
Chapter Two
Battlestar Galactica-04-Rebellion Page 4