Battlestar Galactica-04-Rebellion

by Richard Hatch

  Except—she hadn't said goodbye. That hurt.

  "Don't try to smile or laugh," Cassi told Starbuck, back in sickbay. "It will just hurt more. You know that!"

  "Cassi," Starbuck said, grimacing with the pain.

  "What did you think you were accomplishing?" she asked him.

  Starbuck shrugged. Cassi could see what lay behind his attitude. She knew him backward and forward.

  "It's not just your face that's hurt, is it," she said.

  He shook his head.

  Athena, Cassi thought. Athena didn't go along with him. She didn't…

  "It's no big deal," Starbuck said. But it was a big deal. Cassi saw how hurt he was. He was questioning, thinking deep inside.

  Starbuck winced as she washed the big cut over his eye and applied her medi-probe to the swelling bruise, a bulge that really was the size and shape of a mouse, soon to be turning a vivid dark blue-purple.

  "He started it," Starbuck said.

  Cassi almost laughed. He seemed about as mature as that boy, Koren. She looked around—it was strange. Koren hadn't been there when she'd gotten back on duty. Where could he have gone? Things were so busy, she hadn't had a chance to ask Doctor Salik. Maybe the boy had gone to see an education center. Probably.

  Starbuck relaxed as Cassi's skilled hands soothed and healed his wounds. Turning, he groaned a little in pain. "I think he… did something… he weighs as much as a Viper," Starbuck said.

  Cassi lifted Starbuck's tunic and felt along his ribs.

  "How many does that make it?" she asked him, looking at him questioningly with her wide blue eyes.

  "How many of what?" Starbuck asked.

  "Ribs," Cassi said, applying her med-probe. "As in… broken."

  "Oh, no," Starbuck said, leaning back on the exam table in resignation to the pain. "Not another one."

  "We have to stop meeting like this," Cassi told Starbuck, smiling. Starbuck smiled weakly at her and tried to relax, allowing her to treat him.

  Starbuck wasn't thinking. He was just feeling. As Cassi bent over him, her blond hair brushing his face like a bird's wings, he just found himself reaching up and drawing her to him, kissing her deeply. It had been a long time, but this kiss was as long and delicious as any they'd shared in their yahrens together.

  A few moments later completely lost in his moment of intimacy with Cassi, Starbuck opened his right eye.

  It was the last person he expected to see.

  "Great," Apollo said in a low voice, dead and awful. "I should have realized."

  "Apollo, it's not…" Cassi cried, but Apollo was already turning away, his face darkened with hurt and betrayal. She had just enough time to break away from Starbuck and run after Apollo's retreating back.

  Apollo turned, but even Cassi stopped and stood back to see the expression on his face.

  "I came for the boy," he said. "His father wishes to speak to him."

  Cassi turned and looked around. "Apollo, he's not here. He wasn't here when—"

  Apollo's eyes flew open.

  "Koren—he's not here?"

  "No!" Cassi cried. "Apollo, I—"

  "I've got to get to the bridge," Apollo cried.

  Starbuck was still rubbing his head on the treatment table. He looked at Cassi, and she looked back at him.

  "I'll never forgive you for this, Starbuck!" she said.

  "I don't suppose it would help if I said sorry?" Starbuck asked, forcing a sheepish grin.

  "No!" Cassi cried. "It wouldn't. And if I wasn't a sworn healer.

  … I swear… I'd rebreak that rib!" She picked up one of Doctor Salik's beakers and hurled it at Starbuck in fury. Starbuck cringed and dodged the beaker. It smashed into the wall beyond his exam table with a burst of bright blue liquid and glass.

  Doctor Salik came running in from the back. "What? What's going on?"

  "Doctor, Koren's missing," Cassi said. "What happened?" The doctor shook his head. "I… don't know," he said. "He was just here a micron ago."

  "You're sure the boy is missing?" President Tigh asked Apollo.

  "Certain," Apollo said. "I was just in sickbay." Hoping to have Cassi see to my nose, he thought. Never hoping that he'd find her with… he couldn't think about it. His nose felt like a Cylon had been examining it with its "loving, gentle" touch. It wasn't that

  swollen, he thought, and only slightly discolored.

  Apollo suddenly noticed that Tigh was paying more attention to him than usual, looking curiously over at him from his bridge console. "What happened to your nose?" he asked suddenly.

  "My—uh-oh, I had an… accident," Apollo mumbled.

  "Hmm," Tigh said in a reflective tone. "Well, what shall we do? Jinkrat is saying he's coming here to get Koren."

  Apollo winced. "Put me through to him on the Rising Star."

  "Done," Tigh said, indicating the comm.

  "Jinkrat," Apollo said as soon as the screen became clear.

  "Where is my son?" Jinkrat demanded.

  Apollo took a deep breath. "We—we don't know," he said.

  He watched Jinkrat's face change from a tense, stern look to complete disbelief.

  "I have lived all these yahrens," Jinkrat said slowly. "All these yahrens, and I never imagined that—" He paused, turning. When he turned back, his eyes were blazing in fury.

  "You, Apollo!" he cried.

  "Jinkrat, we'll find him," Apollo said quickly. "I swear to you—he was under no guard. Perhaps he just wandered—"

  "Perhaps! I am to believe you, as I am to believe you did not murder those hundreds on that rescue ship?"

  "I'm telling you the truth," Apollo said. "I was just in sickbay myself."

  "I wish to speak to the Gemonese woman," Jinkrat said, each word clipped and precise.

  "Cassi?" Apollo said.

  "I placed my son in her care. She will answer to me if—"

  "Jinkrat, Cassiopeia was with me when Koren seems to have—"

  "So," Jinkrat said, nodding. "You have also done something with her as well."

  "No!" Apollo cried. This was infuriating. Why wouldn't the man just…

  "You will return my son to me in twenty centons," Jinkrat said. "Otherwise, I will detonate that bomb because I know that my son will be…" He let the last word go unsaid.

  "I give you my word he'll be found safe," Apollo said.

  Tigh looked over at Apollo, his eyes incredibly wide.

  "Apollo," Tigh said.

  Jinkrat closed the communication. The screen went black.

  "Tigh, we don't have any choice. Find that bomb—and find that boy!"

  Ten centons, and there was still no word of Koren—or the bomb. Apollo slammed his fist on the console.

  "Apollo," Tigh said. "I have a communication. It's from Council Member Aron."

  "We have been waiting for word about the supplies on that barge," Aron said, smiling.

  Apollo's nose was on fire again. He nodded. He turned to Tigh, who checked his databanks. Tigh's fingers moved rapidly. He repeated the motion, cleared his throat, and then looked back at Apollo with an expression of total dismay.

  "It's not there," he said softly.

  "What?" Apollo said.

  "So, we can expect a launch to the Rising Star momentarily?" Aron asked politely.

  "Yes," Apollo told him.

  "Is there something the matter?" Aron asked.

  "No, no," Apollo said. "Nothing's the matter. We'll be launching the supplies immediately. They've already been transferred from the original vessel."

  Then, he broke the connection.

  Tigh grabbed Apollo's arm. "Apollo, that whole barge is gone. There's not a thing in Bay Four."

  "But they already took everything off," Apollo said. "We were selling things to put funds aside for the families of the—" Apollo meant the flowers, of course, that had led to so much trouble with Starbuck and Athena, although Apollo didn't know that whole story.

  "Just the luxury items," Tigh said. "The main part of the fuel and th
e food was still on the barge. And Apollo—it's gone."

  "Lords of Kobol," Apollo said.

  "They had nothing to do with it," Tigh said darkly.

  "Let's find it!" Apollo cried. And he leapt away, running from the bridge. Running again. The only trouble was, he had no idea where he was going.

  Back to sickbay. Maybe Koren had wandered off. Maybe he had.

  "I'm going to prescribe a brief furlon for you," Doctor Salik told Apollo.

  "No!" Apollo cried. Then, he forced himself to regain his composure. "Where could the boy have gotten to? Salik, how could you—"

  "You see the way things are here," the doctor said, gesturing around at the madhouse that was the sickbay.

  "I—I know," Apollo said. There was no Koren here. His heart was pounding. How could this have happened. Who? How could the rebels have penetrated so deeply into the Galactica?

  "I need to treat your injury," Doctor Salik said.

  "There's no time!" Apollo cried.

  "This will only take a moment," Salik said, and he was right. Almost instantly, he'd applied a huge white plasteen bandage to Apollo's nose. It felt like it covered half his face.

  "This is important, Apollo," the doctor said firmly. "Otherwise, your breathing could be impaired by the cartilage healing improperly."

  Apollo cringed to hear the nasal whine in his voice. "Does it have to be so—large?"

  "It's just a tiny plasteen bandage. I can make it flesh colored if you wish," the Doctor said, chuckling.

  The only thing that Apollo was grateful for was that Cassiopeia was on rest period and he did not have to see her in the sickbay. All at once, Apollo's world had become a world of total betrayal and danger. The very fate of the Galactica, at the mercy of the relentless Jinkrat.

  Apollo felt like his heart was going to explode if he thought about any of it any longer.

  "Doctor, I've got to go," Apollo said.

  But no sooner had he started to leave than Sheba arrived, limping.

  "Sheba!" Apollo cried.

  Doctor Salik rushed toward her.

  "It's nothing," she said.

  The doctor knelt. "Get over here," he ordered. She balked, but followed his instructions. He led her to the same table where he'd put the bandage on Apollo's nose. Apollo tried to help, but Sheba was Sheba: She didn't want any extra assistance.

  "What happened?" Apollo asked.

  "She's got a bad sprain," Doctor Salik said, probing her ankle.

  "I was getting down from my Viper," Sheba said. "I just—"

  "Sheba," Apollo said. "You're pushing yourself too hard."

  Ordinarily, Sheba would have never made a mistake like that.

  "I was searching for that missing barge," Sheba said. "It doesn't make any sense, Apollo. It's got to be there, but it's like it's disappeared into this… cloud!" She waved her arms.

  "Sit still!" Doctor Salik commanded. The normally mild-mannered doctor was in command in sickbay. Sheba bristled, but kept still.

  Apollo shook his head. "No," he said. "Someone took it. There's a traitor—more than one. They've got inside information. There's somebody turning on us from inside," he said.

  "Traitor!" Sheba cried. "I'll give them the full measure of justice when I find them."

  Apollo knew that was true; the problem was, could anyone find them in time? He held Sheba's leg steady for the doctor to treat her.

  "Apollo," Sheba said. "Let me go. Let me get back out there."

  "You're not going anywhere right this centon," Doctor Salik told her. "These tissues aren't going to be ready to hold your full weight for at least a sectare."

  "I'll be the judge of that!" Sheba cried.

  "Look," Apollo told the doctor. "I'll take care of Sheba. I'll take her to my quarters."

  The doctor muttered to himself, then looked around the sickbay. "You're right," he said. "She doesn't need to be here, and she can recover well in your quarters."

  Apollo nodded. To Sheba, he said, "Let's talk this over. Maybe—" Apollo thought of Tigh, and Athena. They had to be certain of what they were dealing with in this situation. The bomb, the traitors, now even Koren—missing. There was no way he could find everything on his own. He wanted to put his head together with Sheba, and then they would bring the others on board.

  Even with Sheba's outburst when he told her of Cassiopeia's pregnancy, he still knew that he could trust her—maybe more than anybody else. And she was a brilliant strategist, truly the daughter of Commander Cain. And, Apollo thought, Sheba was always his friend. She always had been, and she always would be.

  Soon, Sheba was ready to walk, although she was limping, and she and Apollo thanked Doctor Salik for his treatment.

  "Thank the Lords for small favors," Apollo muttered to himself as he and Sheba entered his quarters. The fumarello smoke was gone. Baltar was gone.

  "Not again," Apollo muttered. But checking his alarm, it looked like Baltar had retreated to his house-arrest warren, no longer wandering and making trouble.

  "What was that?" Sheba asked as she followed Apollo inside.

  "Nothing important," Apollo told her. A quick glance inside his sleeping quarters showed Apollo that Baltar had even made his bed. And neatly, too!

  They sat beside each other on Apollo's simple, yet comfortable bench. Sheba immediately relaxed, putting her injured foot on the low table in front of them, careful not to jar the simple artifacts and mementos that Apollo had placed on the table for decoration and to remind himself of the long yahrens of their journey, as well as their lost home, Caprica.

  "Someone's playing us all off each other," Apollo said.

  "Every time I think of this mess, I get furious. It's like everything we fought for, my father's death—the loss of the Pegasus and Kobol—it means nothing!"

  Apollo nodded. "Yes, I understand," he said. "But the question is, why?"

  "I'm no psychologist," Sheba said. "Someone's a thief! A liar! A kidnapper! It's this Jinkrat. I say just go on IFB and tell the truth. People will listen. And that will make an end of this!"

  "Sheba, Jinkrat wouldn't kidnap his own son. He's a rebel, but he's not crazy."

  "I say go over and blast them all!" Sheba said.

  Apollo suddenly took Sheba's hand, his heart full of warmth. That was about all the strategy he'd get out of her. Sheba was no plotter. Now that he was sitting beside her, he realized. Sheba! She had never lied to him. He couldn't believe how easily fooled he had been by Cassiopeia's seeming faithfulness. Why, she was as changeable as Starbuck. They were matched—slaves to their emotions, unable to stick to anything for long.

  But Sheba? She was rock-steady. No, she had never lied to him. Now, looking at her beautiful, fiery face, he knew that she never would.

  "Sheba," he said. "There's something else I wanted to talk to you about."

  Her hazel eyes widened. "Not more news, Apollo," she said. "Don't tell me Cassiopeia's having twins!" she blurted.

  "No," he said, shaking his head ruefully. "Nothing like that. It's just—"

  Sheba squeezed his hand, nodding sympathetically. "Go ahead, Apollo," she said.

  "I'm just confused, Sheba. You trust people all your life. And then they go and just…" Apollo fell silent. It was Starbuck—and Cassi. People just went and betrayed you in a micron. The traitor was as yet a stranger. But Starbuck—Starbuck was his oldest, closest friend. And he really thought that he'd begun to have feelings for Cassi. Those moments had been special. Or so he thought.

  Sheba nodded again. "I understand," she said, her voice full of emotion.

  "I have a duty," Apollo said after a while. "But the thing that really hurts—I was starting to feel like I could… love… Cassiopeia. I never cared about anyone like that. Not after Serina. Losing her was…" Apollo couldn't continue. The memories were too painful, and too deep. All at once, the unfairness of it all struck him. Serina, the one woman he truly, deeply loved, torn from him by this war.

  "We've all suffered losses," Sheba said. "My
father—"

  "I know," Apollo said. Sheba was looking at him like she expected him to say something more, but Apollo wasn't sure what that might be. "Your father was a grave loss to us all. I know how you loved him, Sheba. He was a great man."

  "As was your father, Apollo. They were both great men." Her voice was deep with emotion.

  Thoughtfully, Apollo nodded. Adama and Cain—what would they do without them? Not for the first time since this crisis began, Apollo felt the heavy burden that was on his shoulders. A burden that Adama carried with such ease and grace. Could Apollo ever achieve that level of greatness? First, they'd all have to survive.

  "Apollo," Sheba said suddenly, leaning forward. "Have you ever thought that there's something different—about both of us?"

  "Different?" Apollo asked, puzzled by the sudden change in Sheba's tone.

  "Yes!" she said, her face glowing. "Apollo, I've waited a long time to tell you this."

  Apollo held her hand tightly and looked into her fierce, beautiful eyes. Sheba—the fighter—full of fire and passion and courage. "Tell me what?" he asked.

  "We are both the children of great warriors," she said.

  "The pride of our people. Your father, and mine, guided us out of the great disaster. They had the vision—they knew," she said.

  Apollo nodded. "Thinking about that," he said, "It just makes me angrier about this rebellion. We are all that stands between the people and complete annihilation. But my father always told me that to lead, one must stand alone. That was what he always said."

  "Not always alone," Sheba replied, looking up at Apollo with an expression that he couldn't understand. Clearly, she was overcome by emotion. But Sheba had always been a very emotional person, quick to anger, not spending a lot of time in thought, but choosing action, just as her father had. It was strange, Apollo thought. Why would Sheba have waited such a long time to tell him that she thought they had a lot in common? Everyone knew that already.

  "I know you're by my side now, Sheba," Apollo said, reassuring her. "We'll overcome this crisis. You'll—" But he was cut short by Sheba's sudden embrace.

  Her mouth sought his eagerly. Eyes wide, Apollo felt her kiss, and he leapt back, astonished.

  "Sheba!" he cried.

  Her face showed signs of hurt because he had pulled away, but hope still shone in her eyes. "That's what I've been wanting to tell you, Apollo. I love you. I always have."