Battlestar Galactica-05-Paradis

by Richard Hatch

  Catching her reflection in the polished surface of a piece of lab equipment inspired a laugh; but the sound wasn't happy. She held her hand up to her mouth to stifle the laugh transforming into a sob.

  The problem was Cassie herself. She hadn't thought about herself in a long time. As a Gemonese, there was nothing stronger than loyalty. What was she to do when she loved with all her heart but that love wasn't fully returned?

  She had enjoyed attending the celebration with Apollo. She felt a deep contentment over how Koren was accepting his new father. She liked to think that Jinkrat was looking down from somewhere with pride in how well his son was turning out.

  She bit her lower lip. It didn't help thinking too much about children. That was her problem. She could never forget Apollo's expression when he found out about her pregnancy. The man who took on a galaxy of responsibility and made it look effortless suddenly stopped dead in his tracks at Cassie's revelation. She had hoped for a different expression on the face of the man she loved.

  Drying her eyes, she returned to her work but stared at the materials on the table with no sense of inspiration. There was no medicine for the ache deep inside her.

  There was always the problem of Starbuck. She couldn't stop thinking about him either. And then there was Athena, who was concerned for Cassie—who didn't want to hurt her friend with her own relationship with Starbuck.

  The one thing to be said for war was that it brought clarity. There was no confusion about what to do during a Cylon attack. The choices were black and white. Today Cassie found herself sinking in a swamp as gray as the quicksand they'd discovered down on the planet.

  Gritting her teeth, she went determinedly ahead with her work. Her hand shook when she mixed two chemicals and for a moment thought she was responsible for the acrid stench in the air.

  One micron later she recognized the unique odor of a burning fumarello. Speak of the devil! Starbuck stood in the doorway.

  "May I come in?" he asked with that infuriating confidence of his. Before she could say a word he entered and leaned against the wall as if he owned the place.

  Although she had deep feelings for both Apollo and Starbuck, they were very different emotions. There was a pressure in her, a command to rise to the occasion when she was with Apollo. With her jaunty colonel, she was more relaxed, ready to laugh. But Starbuck could also make her angry in ways no other man could.

  "Your eyes are red," he said.

  "Oh, yes," she began, uncertainly. "I got something in my eye. Must be more careful."

  The old Starbuck would have fallen for that or maybe not even cared. The new, improved Starbuck couldn't be put off that easily. They had both changed because of Dalton.

  He walked over and held her as if he possessed her. She didn't want to back away. "You've been crying," he said.

  That was the moment when Apollo would have asked what's wrong. Starbuck didn't say another word but kissed her with all the passion in him.

  As she let herself feel everything, she was grateful that it some ways Starbuck would always be the same.

  That wasn't all that didn't change. Her luck was as bad as ever. Because at that moment Apollo entered the med-lab!

  Somehow she hoped she'd reached a stage in her life when she wouldn't be the cause of quarrels between the men she loved the way Dalton kept finding herself between Trays and Troy.

  But in matters of the heart, men and women never stopped being children at some level. Starbuck broke off the kiss and stared at Apollo. If he'd been playing a hand of pyramid, he could bluff his way through the situation. If Apollo had just been meditating, he'd deal with the situation with more aplomb.

  But Cassie could tell right away that this was not going to be a pleasant scene.

  "You're lucky that I have a meeting with President Tigh," said Apollo, "or I'd give you another lesson about the lines you don't cross."

  "Apollo," was all Starbuck managed to say.

  "Cassie!" said Apollo, glaring at her. "I can't believe you'd be so casual about this after all we've been through. All of us!"

  "Apollo," was all she managed to blurt out.

  "Old friend," Starbuck managed to add to the discourse. "Don't make too much of this."

  Apollo was too upset to stop. "You never make enough of anything! That's your problem."

  Cassie regained her composure. "Stop it before you get started," she said. "Both of you. It wasn't that long ago I patched up Starbuck in this lab because of a fight you had over Athena. I'm not in the mood to play nurse if the fight is over me!"

  While they were both staring, she made a dramatic exit, even though she had to leave her own med-lab!

  Cassie was on a lot of people's minds today. A few centons after the incident in the med-lab, Sheba was thinking about her. Ever since Cassiopeia had saved Sheba's life, the dedicated pilot understood better than ever that there are many ways to fight for what you believe in. She wished her father had better understood the virtues of those who aren't warriors.

  On the other hand, there were virtues in Cain that weren't shared by enough people to satisfy Sheba. Her problem with Cassie was that the woman didn't have the steadfastness she liked in people. Maybe Sheba was too much her father's daughter, expecting a directness and honesty in all human affairs that was unnatural. Starbuck and Cassie made Sheba uncomfortable because they always acted on impulse. Sheba refused to be a slave to her own emotions. She had learned that from her father. But she also knew that one could go too far in either direction.

  She had stood alone at her father's grave. An eight-legged crawlon had spun a silvery thread over the name CAIN. Impulsively, she'd reached out to wipe away the web but then changed her mind.

  The planet accepted her father's remains and made a permanent home for him. She liked that, remembering the ceremony on which Tigh had insisted. She had never received such an outpouring of love before. Paradis became her home that day.

  Walking with a firm stride, she returned to her Viper. The president was expecting her. Instead of seeing him in orbit, she was honored to visit his small, fairly private home on the new world. Soon Ryis would finish stately offices for Tigh as well as sumptuous Council chambers, but the president had intimated to a select few that he wanted a place on Paradis that was his alone.

  As Sheba flew to the coordinates that had been given her as if rare jewels, she passed another Viper leaving the President. Bojay waved and she waved back. Poor Tigh could never completely escape the demands of his office. Limiting access to his person was the only privacy a leader could expect. She wondered when he'd last given in to the need for sleep.

  Sheba landed in front of the house and was met by a member of Tigh's security team. She expected to be led inside but her destination was the back yard. Coming around the corner was none other than Apollo. This was a day of surprises.

  "I guess Tigh isn't enjoying much solitude today," she said.

  "We're as busy as during a war," he said, "but this is certainly preferable."

  She wasn't ready for the flood of emotions she felt in Apollo's presence, the very emotions she tried so hard to control. At times like this there was nothing better than the devotion to duty that she shared with her commander, independently of how they felt about each other.

  If only the wonderful day would come when he recognized that he and she were the children of the greatest warriors ever to resist the Cylons! Deep down Sheba could never stop believing that Apollo was her destiny.

  She was glad that he had to leave and that she was late to see Tigh. She wasn't ready for a long talk with him now. Duty called.

  The security man gestured for her to follow. Tigh was the most relaxed she'd ever seen him. Maybe he'd caught up on a lifetime of sleep. Now he was gardening.

  "I passed Apollo coming in," she volunteered.

  "Yes," he said, mopping sweat from his brow and putting down a pair of pruning shears. "He was here to discuss the translation of the book. We've been able to decipher some of the an
cient languages in the texts because of a most remarkable discovery. Our own language may have evolved from the language of the texts."

  Without asking, he poured her a tall glass of pink water. As she sipped the liquid she realized it was a new drink that he had made from ingredients in his garden. It was sweet and refreshing.

  "Paradis feels like home," she said.

  "Yes, doesn't it?" he agreed, gesturing that she join him as he sat down in one of several chairs that were lined up to face the garden.

  "I have the latest reports on the deconstruction of the crippled ships," she said.

  "I know, I know," he said airily, waving his hand as if a recitation of facts and figures was of no immediate importance. "You and Starbuck and Boomer have been doing an excellent job overseeing all that. How do you like your drink?"

  "I like it." She took another sip. In all the years she'd known Tigh she'd never seen him less concerned about the nuts and bolts of practical politics, the basic business of government. The man was taking his first vacation.

  He took a long draw on his own drink. "When the Gamon gave us that book, they opened my eyes to many things," he said. "GarTokk has been invaluable in communicating with these natives, you know. Our language experts are having a field day. But there are symbols and geometric markings they can't make heads or tails of."

  Sheba finished her drink. She hadn't realized how thirsty she was. "Maybe Dr. Lorrins could help with that," she suggested.

  "Our top physicist?" he smiled at her. "Way ahead of you. He's already been consulted. But isn't it interesting that something so advanced is showing up on a primitive world?"

  "Maybe it's not as primitive as we think," she said.

  "That's why I asked you to report directly," he said. "I value your opinion. You have a better understanding of the big picture than many of your comrades. Your father gave you a grim lesson in how to balance military and civilian considerations."

  "I remember the Pegasus," she said softly. Tigh nodded. They sat silently and regarded Tigh's garden.

  Rows of crops were separated by white strings held in place by little wooden pegs. The strings were both vertical and horizontal, giving the garden the appearance of a radar grid aboard one of the battlestars. An orange pyramid shape pushed up from the ground in one place while a small green sphere appeared in the rectangle next to it. Some of the giant insects with rainbow-hued wings hovered over the crops. One growth in particular caught her eye.

  "Hey, those look like heffala berries," she said, one of her favorite crops from Caprica.

  "They're better," he boasted. "And over there is something tastier than our hydronic mushies."

  "Did you grow what I've been drinking?" she asked.

  "No, I picked small fruits off a tree over there," he said, pointing. "They were just waiting for us to arrive." He grinned.

  The red sun shown down on Tigh's handiwork and it was good.

  "This is beautiful," Sheba said at last.

  "Thank you," he replied. "I can't stay here as much as I'd like but the last time I saw this garden at dawn I was afraid it was all a mirage and if I closed my eyes it would all disappear."

  Sheba understood. "Like our time on this planet."

  "The conflicts are already beginning," he said. "I was stupid enough to think that maybe our problems were over, at least for a little while. But that never happens. Apollo has jurisdiction over the fleet. Ryis has authority over mining operations and all the large-scale building projects."

  "Apollo wants to push forward rebuilding the fleet," said Sheba.

  "Correct. And Ryis is perfectly happy to continue dismantling it until there's nothing left but the Galactica and the Daedalus."

  Sheba smiled. "Are you sure that our great architect is content to leave those battleships alone?"

  Tigh finished his drink. "We can always hope we've seen the last of the Cylons."

  "And the Chitain," she added, sadly remembering her father's miscalculations in that regard.

  "We can also hope there won't be problems on this planet from the Gamon."

  She was surprised to hear that from Tigh. "I thought everything was fine in that department."

  "You could say that it's my job not to take anything for granted."

  "Like the debates the scientists are having about how far into the last stage the red sun happens to be?"

  He patted her on the arm. "You are your father's daughter, Sheba. You consider all the possibilities and worry about them. A good leader has to be paranoid."

  "But not too paranoid," she added.

  He nodded. "Exactly."

  "Are you enjoying your rest?"

  "I never knew how much I needed this. As long as you're here, I'd like to ask your opinion on something else."

  "Anything but the reports," she teased him.

  "You can leave those. What I want to know is what you think of our campaign to reform Baltar?"

  She sighed. "That's a tough one."

  "We are keeping a watch on him. He continues to wear the ankle tracker."

  "But letting someone with his powers of persuasion teach a class!"

  "We are not as irresponsible as we seem," he said. "We are keeping a close eye on everything involving Baltar."

  "Well, that might satisfy everyone but Starbuck," she said.

  Tigh raised an eyebrow. "Baltar can always rest easy that no one hates and distrusts him more than Starbuck. But I really believe we have made the right decision about him. He will make his students think. In fact, the first question he assigned them was really quite interesting."

  "I haven't kept up on what he's doing," she admitted.

  "He wants his students to think about why we don't just build an artificial space habitat and not bother with planets any more. With the QSE technology we could do it."

  "And you know full well why we don't!" she countered.

  "Of course. But I want to see what the students come up with."

  "Fair enough."

  They sat for a while longer, enjoying the sunlight and basically watching the plants grow.

  "It's peaceful, isn't it?" he asked at last.

  "Yes."

  "I'm ready for those reports now."

  It came down to one indisputable fact: Starbuck would rather face the full force of Cassie's anger than an extended dose of sarcasm from Athena. So he didn't put off dealing with Cassie the way he would with Athena. Apollo had caught them. So now it was Cassie's turn to give Starbuck a piece of her mind.

  "Why did you kiss me?" she demanded.

  They were in the perfect setting for a confrontation. Instead of the sterility of the med-lab, they stood on the same verdant hill where Sheba had lain Cain to rest. Somehow the vision of his headstone did more to fill their hearts than the spires of New Caprica City, rising in the distance.

  "You loved him, didn't you?" he asked, gazing at Cain's grave.

  For the moment, she allowed him to change the subject. "Yes, of course I did. Cain was a complex man. He combined forcefulness with compassion. There were extremes in his nature that you wouldn't understand. He could switch from harshness to loving concern so fast that it would make your head spin."

  She touched the stone and imagined that she was caressing the great man's cool forehead. "He had many lovers besides me. Yet he treated me with a respect I've rarely known, even though I was a socialator back then."

  She looked at Starbuck with her large hazel eyes. "That's why I wanted us to meet here."

  Starbuck placed his hand on top of her hand still resting on the stone. "You think some of him would rub off on me?" he asked.

  "I don't know," she admitted, pulling away and stepping back from him. "You shouldn't have kissed me."

  Many men would have let it slide but not Starbuck. "You kissed back," he shot at her.

  "But it led to another fight with Apollo!" she almost cried.

  "We didn't know he was there. He can't always be around every time we get together!"

 
; "I'm not sure about that," she said, taking in her surroundings as if she expected the Commander to materialize from behind a tree.

  "Relax," he suggested.

  "I'm the biggest fool in the galaxy! I always get myself in trouble."

  He tried to take her in his arms but he pushed her away. "No, Starbuck! We need to talk right now. Just talk! You never do enough of that. Sometimes I hate all of you with your strong silences."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Warriors," she hissed. "You are all a lot of trouble."

  He took his own advice and relaxed. "I don't blame you for that, Cassie. No one becomes a warrior to win a popularity contest."

  "You'll always win an unpopularity contest with some of the civilians."

  He nodded. "What do you want us to do?"

  "Starbuck," she said very slowly, "you have never been able to commit to a full relationship with me or anyone else. I doubt that you ever will. It's not in you. I need more. I need someone to love only me, especially now with this baby coming!"

  "I understand."

  "And I don't want you and Apollo fighting over me all the time."

  He took her hand as a comrade. "Don't worry too much about that. I think Apollo and I are going to be busy with a lot of other stuff real soon."

  He would soon prove to be a prophet.

  Every day in every way the Colonials did more and more to reshape the planet in their own image. One of their number who felt that he should be more often consulted about future plans was a certain thirteen-year-old.

  Koren decided that a proper warrior could do every bit as much on a planet as in space. Apollo had persuaded him of this. The girl they'd rescued from the quicksand made a good case as well. Now Boomer and Starbuck added their voices.

  Koren didn't think about his real father very often. But he could imagine Jinkrat adding his bit of oregg to the discussion and agreeing with everyone else. Koren could be a warrior and a spacemen anywhere!

  He was excited that Apollo asked him to join his foster father along with Starbuck and Boomer. They were in search of materials to complete the task of repairing the fleet. Koren noted that he was one of the four men entrusted with this important mission.