Battlestar Galactica-04-Rebellion

by Richard Hatch

  "Sheba, I," he managed to stutter.

  "No, Apollo," she said, touching his lips to quiet him. "Don't say anything right now."

  Apollo did as Sheba commanded, because his mind was reeling and he truly couldn't think of anything he could possibly say.

  Sheba appeared to gather her composure and make some kind of decision as Apollo watched her, speechless.

  She stood, smoothing her uniform. "Don't say a word," she ordered Apollo. "Just meditate about what I've said." She paused, her face taking on the determined expression that Apollo knew so well. "I have thought about this," she said. "You are the son of Adama. I am the daughter of Cain. What could be more appropriate? Meditate on the blood that we both share—blood of the greatest warriors our people have ever known. Go to your sanctuary, Apollo. After a time, it will all become clear."

  Then, she threw her cloak back dramatically and strode off.

  Pausing at the door, she turned back. "Apollo, I have made up my mind," she said. "Now you must make up yours."

  Sheba had always thrown caution to the wind. In the strangest way, Sheba was right.

  Somehow, in all of his confused seeking of answers, Apollo had forgotten the most important thing about Sheba. She might have been slender, feminine, almost delicate in appearance, but she was the toughest, most willful, stubborn, infuriating woman he had ever known. His nose began to throb painfully, and all he could think of to do as Sheba left was to reach up and rip Doctor Salik's plasteen bandage off and hurl it to the floor.

  That was gone, and so was the rest of Apollo's uncertainty.

  He had to understand Jinkrat's unholy rage. That was the key. Understanding where this rebellion was coming from would take all of the depth that Apollo was beginning to develop inside.

  * * *

  Wild emotions played through Apollo as he sat, trying to meditate and see the way out. He saw images—of his father, Adama. Somehow, he thought that if Adama had been there to observe Sheba's proud declaration of love, Adama would have laughed. But also, with his wise, firm way, he would have reminded Apollo that there was truth in what Sheba had said—at least about the two of them sharing a heritage, and a deep loyalty to Galactica's desperate mission to save their people and find a home at last.

  Then his reverie was interrupted. Athena was contacting him from the Daedalus.

  "Apollo," she said. He sighed. How could he have thought he could do it all by himself?

  "Athena, some sectares, don't you just wish you were…" he said, leaving the last thing unsaid.

  "I know, Apollo," she replied. "I came to tell you that I'm sorry. About the thing with Starbuck. We shouldn't have—"

  "It's not your fault, Athena," Apollo said. "Starbuck's a—"

  "No," she said, interrupting him. "It was my idea. I convinced Starbuck to come to your quarters. We both had too much ambrosa."

  "Athena, there's a traitor on the Galactica. We can't find Koren, and we can't even find that bomb. I can't cover the whole ship myself; I thought if I meditated, that I could find some answers. I have a feeling…" he said, thinking hard. "I have an instinct that Jinkrat is no ordinary rebel. He's been used—lied to. Yes, he's got reason to be angry. But there was no way to avoid this, Athena. We had no choice. With all the fleet's been through, some people were bound to die."

  Athena shook her head. "Why doesn't he understand—we're all suffering! How can he believe it's personal, that we're against him? We helped his son. We had no idea that… Apollo, we don't even know if he's been kidnapped. That boy's independent enough to wander off on his own."

  "Considering what happened in the Council, I doubt that anyone but Jinkrat himself can stop this madness. I have to speak to him directly, Athena," Apollo said.

  "Apollo!" Athena cried. "You're putting your life in the hands of a man who's got a bomb on the Galactica —right now!"

  "He's full of rage, Athena," Apollo said. "But he's not a liar. I sense a great evil. And it's not him. Somebody's using him. Somebody's manipulating us, everything."

  "Baltar," Athena said. "I wish I could—"

  "No," Apollo said. "Baltar's back in his quarters. He still knows something, but this isn't Baltar. I don't know if it's anybody. I just can't see clearly. We're tearing ourselves apart from within. Help me, Athena." Across the distances, brother and sister communicated without words.

  Athena's eyes went wide. "Iblis," she whispered.

  Apollo saw her vision, too. "Exactly," Apollo said. "There are so many lies. We've had to make tough choices, but somebody or something is turning everything inside out. Everything!"

  "This is definitely like Iblis, Apollo," Athena said. Then, her tone changed. "We're still searching for that barge, Apollo. And Tigh hasn't found any sign of the boy."

  "Or the bomb," Apollo said.

  Athena shook her head.

  "Join with me," Apollo asked her.

  And together, they joined across space in meditation. At once, a force that neither of them understood linked brother and sister. Apollo saw the fleet in flames, and images of people battling without hope, vicious murdering and killing—blue bolts of laser fire cutting through dozens of helpless, shrieking women and children.

  As long as they searched, as hard as they sought illumination, there was nothing but destruction, disaster, and mayhem. Desperate, Apollo turned his mind from the fleet outward, seeking in the Ur cloud itself.

  He and Athena, joined as one, traveled through the strange cloud seeking the missing patrols, and seeking a way out of the cloud. But wherever they turned, there was nothing.

  A strange, cruel voice laughed, but said nothing. Apollo thought that he recognized the voice, but with nothing more than a single laugh, he could not identify it, and linked as he was with Athena, he knew that she was puzzled as well.

  Exhausted, brother and sister finally broke free of their searching. This was not like the Battle of Kobol. No answers were coming to them at all. There were no magical, mysterious coordinates to save them this time.

  "Why can we find no answers?" Apollo asked Athena.

  "I don't know," she said. "But we must have hope. The Lords of Kobol would not abandon us," she said.

  "All I saw was death," Apollo said, "death and destruction."

  "Apollo," she said, her voice full of feeling. "Don't lose hope. We conquered the Cylons, and the Chitain. We are trapped here, but not forever. I know there's a way out. Apollo—remember Baltar. Baltar knows something. He has the key. We must get it out of him!"

  "That voice," Apollo said. "You heard it laughing, too."

  Athena nodded. "It reminded me of Baltar," she said. "That's what made me think of him, more than Iblis."

  "He is not telling all he knows," Apollo said. "It's the strangest thing. I don't trust Baltar—who could ever trust him? But he's changed, Athena. He's not the same Baltar we knew and hated all these yahrens."

  "Has he said nothing since you released him?" Athena asked.

  Apollo shook his head. "It seems like he's trying," he said. "He's been wandering—driving me crazy. And talking in riddles."

  "That's Baltar," Athena said. "I can't believe he walked in on me and Starbuck!"

  "That's how I found out about you and Starbuck."

  "Oh," Athena said, and her face darkened in anger. "That rotten, stinking, lying, spying—"

  "He made himself perfectly at home," Apollo said. "But he did as I told him. He even made the bed."

  Athena thought a moment, then she laughed. "I suppose we should be grateful for anything that Baltar does that's not destructive," she said. "In its own way, it's a miracle."

  But Apollo didn't reply because there was another voice at his door. "May I enter?" It was Tigh.

  "Of course," Apollo said. He turned away from Athena's image to greet Tigh. Tigh's normally stoic face was full of worry.

  "Apollo," Tigh said, nodding to Athena. "We still haven't found the bomb or Koren. But there's more news."

  "What?" Apollo and Athena
said in unison. "What next?"

  "Jinkrat is on his way to the Galactica. According to Sire Aron, he's willing to talk to the Council before he detonates the bomb." . "That puts him in our hands!" Apollo cried. "I can't believe it. Are you sure?"

  Tigh shook his head. "No, Apollo. Sire Aron has… Apollo, the Council has removed you from command. That was Jinkrat's requirement. If Koren is not there to greet him when he arrives, he will detonate the bomb from his transport."

  "Lords of Kobol," Apollo said. "I can't—"

  "I'm afraid it's true," Tigh said. "I was unprepared for the commands that came in from them. If I'd known," he said, shaking his head in regret. "I would have seen to it that transmissions were suffering an interruption due to this Ur cloud. I would have ignored it, Apollo."

  "You can't foresee everything," Apollo said, but he looked around wildly.

  "Sire Aron is very regretful, but the Council has put him in charge of the Galactica," Tigh declared.

  "He's an old man!" Apollo cried. "What's gotten into them? Do they think they'll defend against the rebels with words? How can they—"

  "The Council said they've seen the light," Tigh said, his voice and face full of disgust.

  "The light!" Athena cried. "They're saying they've had a vision from the Beings of Light?"

  Tigh shook his head, then shrugged. "No, but they've… Apollo, there's one more thing."

  "What's that?" Apollo asked. "They want the Viper pilots to sing and dance?"

  "They're organizing a tribunal," Tigh said, "to try you for crimes against the people and the fleet."

  "Tigh!" Athena cried. She'd heard the whole thing.

  "I did manage to cut the transmission short," Tigh said. "I'm really not sure when they scheduled it, or who's responsible to deliver you up to them," he told Apollo.

  Despite the disaster, Apollo couldn't help but smile at faithful President Tigh, standing proud in his immaculate uniform.

  "Well," he said, looking at Athena's image and back to Tigh. "What would you suggest that we do?"

  "Tell the Council where they can stick it!" Tigh exclaimed.

  Athena grinned. "Tigh's right," she told Apollo. "We have no time to negotiate with them, and they've proven they're out of their minds."

  "By my orders, the Council is to disband until I have met personally with the rebel Jinkrat and negotiated a peace," Apollo commanded. "Sire Aron can't do this. He hasn't got the authority. Tigh, transmit that command on every channel, throughout the fleet. The fleet is now under martial law and my word is the final one on every matter."

  "Yes, sir!" Tigh said, saluting Apollo.

  "I'll join you on the bridge momentarily," Apollo told Tigh. "There's one more thing for me to do before that."

  Athena broke the transmission, but not before she told Apollo that Daedalus would launch more Vipers in search of the missing barge.

  Chapter Six

  APOLLO BELIEVED that he knew where Koren was. It was only a matter of traveling two decks to find out if his instincts were true, but the cursed alarm began to signal him as soon as he left his quarters.

  Baltar. Escaped again!

  Swearing under his breath, Apollo stood, turning to see his bane heading straight toward him.

  "Baltar, I don't have time for this," Apollo said. "I've got a lost boy to find, not to mention a bomb, and a rebellion in full swing."

  "Bad news, Apollo?" Baltar asked.

  "As if you care! You've been less helpful than a three-legged daggit," Apollo growled, shouldering his way past the older, smaller man.

  "You've had visions," Baltar said. "So have I."

  "Baltar!" Apollo cried in frustration. "I don't have the time. This rebel and the Council have gone mad. We've got traitors in our midst. I've had to declare—"

  "Yourself as the sole dictator of the fleet," Baltar said, smiling. "Isn't that what you've always wanted, Apollo? Just like Adama. No politics, no pesky civilians mucking about in the all-important affairs of command?"

  "You're the one obsessed with power, Baltar. Don't charge me with your own failings."

  "We are each mirrors," Baltar said softly. "And none of us so different as we would imagine."

  "Baltar, in five million yahrens, you and I could never have a single thing in common," Apollo said. The very thought of it was beyond Apollo. Baltar was greed and selfishness personified. If there was any kind of mirror reflecting them, it was reversed; if Apollo was matter, then Baltar was anti-matter. Baltar wouldn't know honor and duty if it presented itself to him as an opportunity to be the richest dictator in the universe, ruling over Cylons and people alike. Baltar was so twisted that he'd somehow find a way to evade even the duty he so desired, the terrible urge for domination and power and respect that had driven him to destroy his life, and the lives of countless others, on Caprica, Gemoni, and the other ten colonies.

  Respect had to be earned, Apollo thought. As his father Adama had earned it. And Baltar had so foolishly, blindly thrown away what little he had earned.

  "Things are not always as they seem," Baltar said. "Choose your enemies wisely, Apollo."

  "Baltar, what are you talking about?" Apollo asked. "We're in full rebellion. I'm going to deal with it personally." It was no vision that he'd had—it was pure instinct. There was no way that Jinkrat would have spirited his own son away. The man's anger was real. And that left… Apollo couldn't believe it, but there was only one way to know for certain. If only Baltar would—Apollo paused, suddenly wondering how Baltar had gotten his news, since Tigh and Athena had left only microns earlier. "How did you know of this?" he asked.

  "I have my sources," Baltar said, cryptically.

  "Spying!" Apollo cried.

  "No," Baltar said. "Do you think you are the only individual on Galactica with any type of insight?"

  Apollo gestured in complete frustration. "Baltar, look," he said.

  "Either you help, or you don't. It's as simple as that. And talking in riddles at a moment like this—it's no help."

  "The people believe in miracles," Baltar said. "There are stranger things in this Ur cloud than you imagine. Don't forget—we have a lost battlestar—"

  "Baltar, I've got to go," Apollo said, fed up with Baltar's riddles. "For the time being, you stay here in my quarters. If that security tracker doesn't bother you, you might as well make yourself at home—again!"

  Apollo turned to go.

  Baltar merely smiled. "Remember what I've said, Apollo. Miracles can happen, and people believe in them," Baltar reminded Apollo. "And also remember that people are seldom who they seem."

  With a last, frustrated cry, Apollo started on his mission. He hated the thought of it. But he had to go. Whatever the truth was, he'd find out, no matter how it hurt. The traitor would be unveiled, and the rebel Jinkrat had to be stopped—once and for all.

  Koren was bored in Sire Aron's quarters. There wasn't much that an old man would have lying around that would interest a boy of twelve yahrens. A bunch of old, boring books that were too hard to read. How long was he supposed to stick around? And where was his dad? The old guy had said he was going to be right there.

  Centons ago!

  And Koren especially didn't like the ugly bald guy that just sat there and stared at him. He didn't like his black uniform, and he didn't like his ugly little eyes that were way too close together.

  Maybe he thought he was better than Koren just because he worked for the high and mighty Council of Twelve. His dad belonged on that Council! In fact, the old man had said something like that, which made Koren feel proud, but he wasn't sure he trusted the guy even so.

  Koren didn't trust anybody but himself and his dad. It was about time to figure out exactly what was going on, and maybe to get out of this boring place and find his dad.

  So, Koren sat cross-legged on the floor across from the ugly guy and stared at him.

  It didn't take very long.

  "What is it you want, boy?" the guy finally said. Koren could tell he was
getting angry.

  So, Koren didn't say a thing.

  "What? Why are you staring! I'll put you in—" The guy retrieved a pair of restraints from his belt.

  Koren still didn't say anything.

  "Kid, you better go sit over there and quit bugging me," the man said. "Don't you know who I am?"

  Koren had an idea of something that he could say, but he thought it would be better to keep his mouth shut.

  Now the guy was on his feet, charging at Koren.

  "What's that in your hand?" Koren asked.

  Now the guy stopped short. "What do you mean?" He looked at the restraints. "Oh, it's something we use for—" Then he looked suspiciously at Koren. "You know what these are. What kind of game are you playing?"

  "Nuh-huh," Koren said. "I never seen anything like that before. What are they for?"

  The guy laughed. "I guess you are pretty isolated over there with all those refugees," he said.

  "Yeah," Koren said. "Can I see those?"

  "Wait a second," the guy said, kneeling beside Koren.

  Koren still kept his arms crossed. He didn't want the guy to think…

  "They work like this," the man said. He opened the restraints by pressing a button on their side. Then he pressed a code and the restraints snapped open. They'd fit right over somebody's wrists.

  "Wow," Koren said, acting like he was incredibly fascinated. "Can you close them up again?"

  "Yeah," the guy said. "Like this. You have to know the code to get them to open and close."

  Koren knew the code.

  "So, put them on me," Koren said.

  Laughing a nasty laugh, the man told Koren to scoot around and put his hands behind his back. Koren felt the restraints snap shut around his wrists.

  He pretended to struggle for a bit, then he looked up into the man's ugly face. "You can take them off now," he said.

  "No way," the man said, his eyes narrow and mean.

  "Please!" Koren said. "I know how they work now. So, you can take them off."

  "You wanted me to put them on," the ugly man replied. "So, if anybody asks, that's their answer."