THE LOST YEARS
by Soledad
INTERLUDE: THE LOST WARRIOR
Author's notes:
For disclaimer, rating, etc. see Chapter 01.
There are some spoilers for the episodes "The Man With Nine Lives" and "Take the Celestra", although I very much doubt that anyone fond of the original BSG still can be surprised by anything.
Like President Darius, Sire Gamesh is a character whom I've mistaken for book canon during my Internet research. I stay corrected in hindsight. So, they both belong to Adam C. Stacey, and so does the Libran Revolt. However, both the charcters and the event are quite different within my settings. Only the names are the same.
And yes, Ambassador T'Pring is Spock's intended mate from "Amok Time". Most people don't like her, for playing such a cruel game with Kirk and Spock, but I've always adored her. She was a woman who made her own choices and wasn't afraid to confront tradition to get what she wanted. I thought that would make her an excellent politician. g
Chapter 14 – Pandora's Box
Omega was glad that the official enrolment of Aggie into the Federation school gave him the excuse he needed to visit Semiramis again. He hated being cut off the direct source of information, but he wouldn't dare to discuss anything connected to Starbuck through the comm, not even through the assumedly secure diplomatic channels. He simply didn't know whom of the new crewmembers he could trust and chose to play safe. Besides, he'd promised to tell Hunter the whole tale, as soon as he'd managed to complete the puzzle.
Granted, the puzzle wasn't exactly complete yet. Quite a few minor details – or one should say minor players – were still missing. And they didn't have any hard proof, either. But with the additional information Adama had gained from the Pallas of New Gemini, many seemingly unconnected pieces suddenly clicked into place, and Omega began to see the big picture. Which was only natural for someone with his family background.
Omega was, by his very nature, a political animal. It would have been hard to be anything else for a son of the House of Lares, even though he hadn't originally been the heir apparent. But all members of his House had been trained for political skills, even I they – like Omega himself – chose to pursue a different career. And now he was the head of his House.
That meant, before anything else, responsibility. Responsibility for the House – even if Aurora was the only other member by blood at the moment –, for their world, for the New Colonies. Omega, or, as he was officially recorded in the annals of his House, Orpheus, didn't intend to dodge his responsibilities. Not even if facing them meant to work against the most powerful old patricians of the Old Colonies.
Aurora had brought the other children to witness Aggie's big day, and they were off to one of the rejuvenation centres with Aurora's ex-boyfriend, Damon, who had come directly from New Aquarius. Damon was an Aquarian by birth and the two of them had been together while serving aboard the Celestra. Damon, too, had participated in the mutiny but was pardoned for turning against Charka and his cronies in the last micron. That fact, sadly, hadn't saved his relationship with Aurora, damaged by the brief reappearance of Starbuck in her life, but at least they had been able to save their friendship, and they still saw each other regularly.
Perhaps the whole thing is still salvageable, thought Omega. For his part, he sincerely hoped so. Aurora had been a great help with the children (not to mention his only blood relative), but she deserved to have a life of her own. Preferable one not burdened with past loves, but if it had to be one of her exes, she was a lot better off with Damon than she would ever be with Starbuck. Even if one considered the old, bright, golden Starbuck, the scavenging pilot with a ladylove on each ship of the Fleet. An ex-ladylove, Omega corrected himself. Starbuck had been a serial monogamist, always faithful to his latest love interest, no matter how short the affair lasted.
As for this new, broken, amnesiac Starbuck, Omega couldn't ever begin to guess how much damage had truly been done to him and how much of his old, bright, resilient personality could still be found. So, it was better for Aurora not to know about him. It would hurt her very much to see him in his current state – and there would be no gain, for either of them.
He consulted his electronic notepad – a Starfleet-issue device, with all the safety protocols that were available for the highest-ranking officers only. He'd received it from Commodore Hunter who wanted him to have a storage device that couldn't be hacked by Colonial technicians. The message he'd got during the shuttle flight (but didn't want to check it in the presence of the children) said that he was expected on the Vulcan Embassy.
That surprised him a little, as he'd never had any contact with the Vulcan ambassador assigned to Semiramis before, even though he knew that she'd visited several of the colonies to see what kind of help her government could provide with the rebuilding of their worlds. But he supposed that the Vulcan Embassy would be the place best secured against any listening devices on the entire Starbase. Vulcans were reliable and thorough, and they were one of the technologically highest developed races of the Federation.
He caught the station shuttle at the nearest stop and travelled to Corridor C – an extremity of the Starbase that led to Spacedock C, a more or less independent suburb of Semiramis, inhabited by Vulcans only. This structure – like the other four that were attached to the central body of the base – was a miniature version of the huge spacedocks, with a population of about five thousand, and it housed the Vulcan Embassy, the local research lab of the Vulcan Institute of Comparative Genetics, the local observatory of the Vulcan Institute of Stellar Cartography, the representative offices of several Vulcan trade and mining corporations, a small theatre and exhibition room ran by the Vulcan Institute for Cultural Exchange, a school for higher mathematics for specifically talented children (Vulcans and non-Vulcans alike), and a dozen other facilities the names (or function) of which he couldn't even hope to remember or understand. To put it simple, this was a small cross-section of Vulcan society, more than capable of dealing with every aspect of alien cultures the ambassador might encounter on this remote outpost.
At the checkpoint in Corridor C he was welcomed by a young diplomatic attaché in the simple yet elegant black-and-gold uniform of the Embassy and led to the conference room of Ambassador T'Pring. The Ambassador was surprisingly short for a Vulcan, but slim and trim and supremely elegant, not to mention exotically beautiful in the cold and detached way of her people. She wore the dark, flowing official robes of an ambassador, with the customary high, gold-embroidered collar. Her jet-black hair was braided with white pearl strings and piled high atop her head. The unusually large, jewelled dark eyes made her smooth face look almost triangular; her featured were noble and chiselled, with high cheekbones and arched eyebrows so fine and dark as if they had been painted by an ancient Chinese artist on silk.
She greeted Omega with the customary, cold Vulcan politeness and asked him to take his place at the conference table. There were quite a few others already, mostly high-ranking officials from the Colonies, but also some from Starfleet. Omega spotted Commodore Hunter and Siress Athena at once, who were sitting with Sire Solon, the Chief Opposer of the Colonies, and also Jolly and Starbuck, who'd found a somewhat remote place at the end of the long table and didn't look very comfortable… to put it mildly. He recognized the male Vulcan sitting next to them as Dr. Sekhet, the geneticist, who'd made the mapping of Starbuck's genetic sequence, and also Jewel, the Minaran empath who still worked on Starbuck's therapy. There was also a female Vulcan whom he saw for the first time, and whose name was apparently T'Mir.
There was one other person in the conference room whom Omega had known for a very long time: Sire Ixion, the Gemoni councillor. One of the few Quorum members whom both he and Adama still trusted. Ixion was one of the extremely rare, single-born Gemoni males who had refused to join the Otori-sect and was, as a result, considered a traitor by them… not exactly a safe situation in these days. Especially as he gave an excellent target for any potential assassins, being half a head taller than the average Gemon, easily recognizable by his thick, wavy white mane – not to mention the flowing white robe of a councillor that he always wore.
Omega understood the reason for Ixion's presence. Siress Parthenope, the current Pallas, could not leave New Gemini – that would have been against custom and thus drawn unwanted attention. There had been some debate between her and Adama whether Ixion should be fully informed, Omega knew that. Starbuck's safety demanded that as few people knew about his true identity as possible. Besides, his fate was just a small detail in the big picture, interesting mostly for his personal friends who'd missed him terribly.
But they needed at least some allies within the Quorum if they wanted to prevent Antiochus's scheme from succeeding. Neither Omega, nor Athena were Quorum members, Tigh was out of reach, and President Darius was still too young, too new, and altogether a dark equine. Omega didn't doubt that Adama would eventually inform Sire Telamon, the Caprican councillor, at least about the aspects of the conspiracy – a conspiracy the exact extent of which Omega still couldn't see himself – but that could wait. It was more urgent at the moment that Sire Solon was informed, as he practically incorporated Colonial law… and that a decision about Starbuck's further fate was made, now that he had regained most of his memories.
As the host of the meeting, it was Ambassador T'Pring's prerogative to open it – which she did, as soon as the introductions were finished. She did it with the wonderfully uncomplicated bluntness only Vulcans could pull off without being rude.
"Greetings, ladies and gentlemen," she said in a surprisingly deep, cool voice and nearly without any accent. "As you all know, this meeting has been called to share information about a conspiracy within the New Colonies; a conspiracy in which, unfortunately, certain Federation members also seem to be involved."
"How many?" Hunter asked quietly. T'Pring glanced at Athena, allowing her to give the answer she was better suited to deliver.
"We're not certain," Athena replied. "Ardana, in any case; they're not even overly secretive about it – it would be pointless, since President Darius has Sealed with Siress Droxine. But Aquarius isn't the only world to use Ardanan workers. Scorpia, Sagittara and Leonis are heavily involved, too."
"Ardana has been shipping out Troglyte workers to a great number of remote colonies on other parts of the Federation as well," T'Pring added. "While I generally appreciate the end of their barbaric caste system, it cannot be denied that Captain Kirk's interference has caused a serious upheaval in their society that can cause severe problems in the not too far future. Yet Ardana isn't the only Federation world involved in the rebuilding of the Colonies. Are there any signs that other Federation members would cooperate with these conspirators?"
"We have no proof of any governments being officially involved," Athena said. "But there's a founded suspicion that at least some circles from Alpha III might be interested. It's hard to tell, really. Those are private companies that do similar work on many Federation worlds, and they might be doing just that – or they might be doing more. Further observation will be necessary to make a reliable estimate."
"We don't have the resources to do so," Solon reminded her worriedly. Athena nodded.
"I know, Sire Solon," she said. "It's not exactly our task, either. Which is the reason why I've established contact with Starfleet Intelligence."
That piece of news shocked the Colonial officials quite a bit, but both T'Pring and Hunter nodded in agreement.
"That was the best thing you could do," the Commodore said. "Starfleet Intelligence has the means and the right people to clear up this tangle – and Commodore Drake Reed is a guarantee that no innocents would be charged. It's more than enough for you to deal with your own traitors."
Traitor might sound a little harsh, but Commodore Hunter was not one to mince her words.
"Speaking of which," Omega said, "do we know how many Quorum members and other noblemen are part of this conspiracy? I know about Sire Anton, of course, and Uri is certainly wading in the whole morass up to his armpits. Sire Ariana is most likely involved, too – who else?"
"Xaviar, perhaps," Athena replied, "although Father says he might be already drifting away from them. Domra and Lobe, while Anton's lap daggits, are just pawns. They might not even be fully aware of what's going on behind the scenes. Tinia is clueless, I presume; and Belloby can be very easily manipulated. She would serve Anton's purposes without even realizing it when handled the right way."
"What about Telamon?" Sire Ixion asked.
"He couldn't leave New Caprica at such a short notice," Athena told him, "but Father will inform him personally. He's in our camp."
"Which seems to be woefully small at the moment," Solon commented wryly. "Considering that I don't even have a vote in the Quorum and Tigh has left with the Enterprise, we'd be outvoted in a micron if we tried to apply for an investigation."
"We can't make our suspicions public just yet," Athena agreed. "We're still in the phase where we need to gather information… much more information, and preferably hard proof that we can present to a proper Tribunal one day. We have to be very careful, though. These people are vile and ruthless."
"In that case," Sire Ixion said, "I fail to understand what these young warriors are doing here. No offence intended," he glanced at Jolly apologetically, "but this isn't really your league."
"Believe me, Sire Ixion, I'd be the happiest if I were not involved in any manner," the fat pilot replied with emphasis. "I haven't asked for this – it was just sheer bad luck."
"Thanks, buddy," Starbuck commented sarcastically. That drew Sire Ixion's attention to him.
"Do I know you, Lieutenant?" the Gemoni councilman asked uncertainly.
"If you can't remember, it's better we pretend that you don't… for both of us," Starbuck answered. "Let's just say that I'm someone who had the chance to gain a great deal of insight into the plans of these oh-so-elated people. Not necessarily on a voluntary basis."
"What Lieutenant Demos means," Hunter interrupted, "is that he was secretly captured by Sire Anton's people, imprisoned on your Prison Barge under a false name, repeatedly tortured, exposed to an illegal device not unlike the Klingon mind-sifter, with the intention of laying open all his memories – and then destroy them."
"And a damn good job they've done with it," Starbuck added, his eyes darkening with remembered pain. "When I escaped the Prison Barge, I couldn't remember anything beyond the age of six… more or less. I'm still not certain about the exact date."
"Despite the impressive headway Lieutenant Demos has already made, there are still gaps in his memory," T'Mir, the Vulcan therapist, added. "He has a long way to go yet… but the results are promising. There is a ninety-four per cent chance that he will regain his full memory one day."
"How did you manage to escape from the Prison Barge in the first place?" Omega asked. "You were found here, somewhere on the lover levels of the Starbase, I'm told."
"That's one of those little details we still haven't cleared yet," Starbuck replied glumly, glancing at the Minaran empath. "Jewel means that the closer a memory is to my… unpleasant experiences on the Prison Barge, the later we can expect it to resurface. Not that I'd be so eager to remember everything," he added, shuddering.
"But what did they want from you in the first place?" Omega asked. "And by the way, is it true that you are from a noble Leonid House from your mother's side? That you're the son of Siress Electra? "
Starbuck nodded. "According to Dr. Sekhet here, I must be. It's strange, though. All my life I wanted nothing more than to know who my parents were. And now it seems that I might have known them – both of them. But my fracking father ran away like a scalded felix when he learned that I was indeed his son – and that with the help of my then-girlfriend, no less. As for my mother… she probably didn't even know who I was."
"Perhaps she did," Omega said thoughtfully. He remembered Siress Electra – generally known as Siress Uri, after her worthless husband – as a plump, gentle woman, whose main effort in life had been to discover ways to rescue said worthless husband from potentially dangerous situation he'd got himself into due to his insatiable hunger for power and wealth. In the rare occasions when she had any contact with the warriors, she'd always been very kind to Starbuck. Not outstandingly so, not obviously enough to raise any suspicions, but in hindsight… yes, she definitely must have had an interest.
"I think she might have known," Omega said. "But it was probably for your safety's sake that she kept your true origins secret."
"Well, considering what's happened to me, I can't really blame her," Starbuck said slowly. "I wonder how Uri and his cronies had found me after all those yahrens, though. Was it Chameleon's fault?"
"No, it was probably just bad luck," Athena replied. "You've got a birthmark shaped like a trefoil, don't you?"
"Sure," Starbuck shrugged. "A lot of people do."
"Actually… no, they don't," Athena said. "According to Siress Parthenope who used to know your mother well, this specific birthmark could only be found in Siress Electra's family. That's a fact known to all family members."
"So I still have relatives?" Starbuck tried to clarify. "Who's this Siress Electra anyway? I mean aside from being my mother, obviously. I've never heard that name before."
"That's because she hasn't used it publicly for almost as long as you've been alive," Omega explained. "It was a peculiar custom in her family that daughters of the House used their husbands' names in public after getting Sealed."
"And who is she then?" Starbuck asked impatiently. "Everyone is being so fracking mysterious about her. Dr. Sekhet only told me that Salik had found my recessive Leonid gene and that was how they've figured out the family relation…"
Omega and Athena exchanged uncomfortable looks. They wished Apollo were here – he could always calm down Starbuck better than anyone else. But Apollo was not there, so they had to do the deed themselves.
"Well, there's no easy way to tell you, Bucko," Omega finally said, deciding that he was the man and the warrior and so he had to bite the bullet… figuratively speaking. "The ugly truth is – your mother was married to Sire Uri."
"Uri?" Starbuck repeated, unbelievingly; then a half-forgotten piece of information resurfaced from the dark recesses of his memory, and he clenched his fist. "And that twice-damned bastard let her behind on Caprica to die, didn't he?"
"He did," Omega nodded, "although he had managed to save her considerable wealth, in the form of gold, jewels and gemstones. And he'd have hated it very much to give you all those riches back."
"Me?" Starbuck shook his head. "What have I do with her money? Uri was her lawfully Sealed husband; the heir apparent, even if he let her die deliberately."
"Not exactly," Solon corrected. "Your mother was a Leonid noblewoman; on Leonis, inheritance goes down the maternal line, especially in the old Houses. You are her natural son – you'd have been the heir apparent, no matter the circumstances of your conception."
"Who cares for her fracking money?" Starbuck fought back angry tears. "I've only seen her a couple of times, but she was kind to me – and that daggit left her behind to die! I should…"
"You should sit down and hold back, Lieutenant," Hunter snapped, her voice sharp like a whiplash. "We've gone through great pains to keep you alive and safe. You won't ruin all that effort by going on a vengeance trip and getting yourself killed. Am I making myself clear?"
Starbuck snapped to attention. One didn't argue with Commodore Hunter, the legend of the Border Guard. Especially not when one served under her command.
"Aye-aye, Ma'am," he replied crisply; then, not just a little bitterly, he added. "So, this means Uri will get away with letting my mother die, just like with everything else?"
"Oh, no," Solon said coldly. "Believe me, Lieutenant, this time he'll not get away with anything. It might take us yahrens to find all the proof we need, but there will be justice. I promise you, by the honour of my House and that of my office as the Chief Opposer of the Colonies."
Starbuck nodded, his eyes hard like blue ice. "I'll call you on that promise, Sire Solon. Remember, you owe me one for that time you put me in jail innocently."
Sire Ixion raised an elegant eyebrow at that but said nothing. He'd already had his suspicions about the true identity of this "Lieutenant Demos", and now he saw them confirmed. But he also knew hat it was really better if he didn't have official knowledge. Safer for them both.
"I still don't understand, though," Starbuck was saying in the meantime. "I've got memories from my childhood – finally got them back – and there is a woman who was with me all those yahrens. I used to call her Isme; but she was nothing like Siress Uri. I mean, not what Siress Uri might have been like in her youth, not as if I've ever seen a picture of her. At least I can't remember… but this… this Isme was a very different type of woman, I think."
"She was your nursemaid, actually," Athena replied. "As far as we were able to put the entire story together, her name was Ismene. She used to be a trusted female attendant of your mother, and she had a baby at about the same time. Only that her son was born dead. For your own safety, your mother must have switched you with the dead baby and sent you with Ismene back to Umbra, from where she hailed from. The family would never have accepted you – your grandfather was the Leonid councillor back then, and the whole clan was quite picky about whom they mixed their ancient blood with."
"And Chameleon was really my father?" Starbuck asked, because he felt he couldn't be sure about anything anymore. Too many unexpected discoveries could do that to a person.
"Actually, his name was Proteus," Athena corrected. "A Caprican con man of common birth, questionable character and considerable charm – that sound familiar for you?"
"I think so," Starbuck replied with a joyless grin. "He was a selfish, irresponsible old daggit if I ever saw one… still, he didn't deserve to get terminated. I assume he was too nosy for his own good again. Found out something he was not supposed to know."
"That is one possibility," Sire Solon agreed. "But it's also quite possible that Sire Anton and his allies had him terminated simply because he was your biological father. According to Leonid hereditary law, he'd have inherited Siress Electra's riches, had you died before him."
Starbuck shook his head. "Impossible. Nobody knew that Chameleon… Proteus… whatever… was my father. Hades, not even I knew!"
"That is not quite correct," T'Pring interfered for the first time. "If I understand correctly what I was told, at least four people have known about your relation to that man, Lieutenant. Firstly, the man himself. Secondly, the med-tech who made the tests. And, if I am not mistaken, Commander Apollo and Captain Sheba, whom the med-tech told the truth, right after the results f the gene tests had come up. Am I correct in my interpretation?"
Athena nodded. "Absolutely correct, Ambassador. I've been also informed, although only after Chameleon's death."
"So, that means four people who knew the truth for at least a year before the Lieutenant disappeared," T'Pring summarized. "Logic dictates that one or more of these people must have talked. The only remaining question is: which one? You should find that out as soon as possible. For if they had talked to the wrong person once, they might do so again – which could be potentially dangerous. Especially if they are privy to other sensitive information as well."
"I think we can route Apollo out," Omega said. "He's been Star… Lieutenant Demos' best friend since he Flight Academy; and he's a man of honour and responsibility. No; he'd never do anything to harm the lieutenant, neither consciously nor by mistake."
"I agree," Solon said. "It's a completely ridiculous idea. And I don't believe it was Cassiopeia, either. She was in love with the lieutenant. She would never harm him, either."
"I won't be quite so certain about her," Athena said coolly. "Granted, I'm perhaps not the most objective person when it comes to judge her character, but I'd bet she's not half as innocent and naïve as she does."
"She might be many things, none of which are innocent or naïve," Omega seconded dryly. "She's a high-class socialator – due to her degrees and experience, she might yet raise in the ranks of the Labyrinth as high as the personal aide of the Hecate herself. She's shrewd and determined… and very well capable of defending her own interests."
"Not to mention the fact that she has already told sensitive information other people," T'Pring reminded. Starbuck rolled his eyes.
"She told Apollo, because she needed to share it with someone who had been my friend for a long time," he said. "Sheba just happened to be there."
"Yes," Athena said slowly, thoughtfully. "Sheba just happened to be there."
"And right now she happens to live on New Scorpia, serving as the leader of Planetary Defences," Omega added, exchanging a look of troubled understanding with her. "In Sire Anton's unquestioned area of influence. Interesting…"
"On New Scorpia," Sire Solon repeated. You assume that Sheba was the leak, then?"
"I wouldn't entirely delete Cassiopeia from the list of potential suspects," Athena said. "The lieutenant had broken up with her shortly before his disappearance."
"Really?" Solon asked. "What was the reason, Lieutenant? Have you found out that she was keeping secrets from you?"
Starbuck shook his head. "No. There were several things… her throwing herself at Cain in the micron the old madman reappeared was one of them. Her believing that I was capable of terminating a man over a Triad game was another. And was not comfortable with the way she'd become best buddies with Sheba of all people, out of the blue, after having hated each other for yahrens. I… I just couldn't trust her anymore, so I thought ending the whole affair would be the right thing to do."
"Took you long enough to realize," Athena commented acidly, "but letter late than never, I guess. She was not happy about it, in any case."
"Of course not," Omega nodded. "Your break-up cost her what little social status she had aboard the Galactica. All of a sudden, she wasn't the significant other of a star pilot anymore, wasn't invited to the Commander's family dinners. She wasn't even the ex-socialator-who-got-accepted-by-Adama's-family any longer. Just an insignificant little med tech nobody cared for without her former contacts."
"She would have led a life way below her expectations, had we not ended up here," Athena added. "She had great luck to find kindred spirits in the Deltans. She's learned from them a lot, and now she can hope to get a high place in the hierarchy of the Labyrinth, once life returns to its normal path. But that doesn't mean that she was not mad at the lieutenant back then."
"It is entirely possible that she started to look out for new, powerful protectors," Omega said. "And everybody came through Life Station one time or another. Everyone important enough to be treated there, that is."
"Perhaps," Starbuck allowed reluctantly. "What about Sheba, though? I find her a more likely subject."
"I don't know," Solon said. "She might have the chance – but what about her motivation?"
"The same as Cassie's," Starbuck replied with a shrug. "She had to realize that Apollo would never Seal with her. Her hothead of a father was gone, she had no status without Adama's patronage… plus, nobody really liked her, not even the rest of the ex-Pegasus crew. It's entirely possible that she wanted to buy new privileges for herself by selling information. She'd surely picked up a lot around Apollo's family. And she's always hated me… not that it wasn't mutual," he added with a wry grin."
"It's strange to accept that the whole thing was just about money," Athena said thoughtfully. "When we first realized who you were, Omega and I, we suspected that they wanted to use you to create fake proof against Tigh, concerning the Libran Revolt."
Starbuck stiffened in his seat. Those harmless words apparently triggered some buried memory deep inside him. In a micron, he was back in his dark prison cell, hurting in more places he'd formerly believed was possible for a human being, the blinding pain of the mind-searching device driving him to howling madness step by step. And that merciless voice kept asking the same question, again and again and again…
"N-not Tigh…" he muttered. "Gamesh… they were looking for Gamesh!"
"What?" Solon rose from his seat involuntarily. "But Gamesh is dead!"
"Apparently not so dead as everyone had though," Omega commented dryly, "but again, we've made the same mistake with Berenice, haven't we? She'd lived right before our noses on the Senior Ship all the time – and we never realized. Not even Adama had recognized her. So it's not entirely impossible that Gamesh might have been hiding somewhere during the last yahrens."
"But why would Anton and the others want to find him?" Athena asked. "Even if he's still alive, his personal little riot has failed – he's no longer a threat for anyone."
"Unless some – or all of them – were, in fact, involved in the Libran Revolt and were unwilling to let that fact become public," Omega said slowly.
"That is a possibility" Sire Ixion agreed, "and the ramifications are… unsettling, to say the least."
"It would help me to understand the situation if I knew what the Libran Revolt was," T'Pring interfered calmly.
Sire Ixion opened his mouth to say something, but Solon raised his hand.
"I would like to answer that question, Sire Ixion, if you don't mind," he said. "I'm a Libran myself, after all; and Gamesh was a personal friend of mine."
He closed his eyes for a moment to order his thoughts. Then he began to speak in a calm, even voice.
"Sire Gamesh was the only surviving son of Sire Ikimi, the head of one of the Libran tribes and a member of the Libran Planetary Council. He served with Colonel Tigh aboard the Bellerophon, but he gave up his military career early on and went into politics. He thought Sire Togo, the councillor of Libra too weak to represent the interests of our colony properly, so he looked out for more powerful allies and became Uri's right hand. He had good chances to take over the Libran seat in the Quorum from Togo – in fact, Togo himself supported him. But when the Destruction came, Gamesh gave up all his personal ambitions in order to build up the hope and confidence of our people again – and being an exceedingly charismatic leader, he even succeeded… well, more or less."
"Libra fared a lot worse than most of the other colonies," Omega explained to Hunter. "Only some nine thousand of them survived to begin with, and their ships were little more than flying rustbins. It's a miracle, really, that they made it at all."
"A miracle and a result of Gamesh's devotion," Solon said. "When he felt that our people would do reasonably well without him, he returned to politics. He tried to join Uri again, but they parted in open hostility when he realized that Uri was only interested in conserving his own wealth and power. He became Sire Togo's aide once again, and tried to get special treatment for our people from the Quorum. Since we've suffered more than all the others, he believed that we deserved more help as well. There were spectacular fights in Council; fights that Gamesh usually lost against Adama, who had to see to the interests of the entire fleet. In the end, Gamesh made a radical step, out sheer frustration. In Adama's absence, he orchestrated a riot, took the entire Quorum hostage, and forced them to make him the new supreme leader of the fleet, equipped with emergency powers. And that was, basically, the Libran Revolt."
"And the outcome?" Hunter asked.
"Well, it lasted about a sectare altogether," Solon replied. "But in that short time, Gamesh did a lot for the people starving and suffering on our ships – most likely ensured their survival. After Adama's return, though, it quickly became clear that he couldn't keep his position in the long run. In order to prevent bloodshed he resigned… and vanished, together with his closest followers. They were considered dead. The shuttle they fled with exploded before the eyes of the pursuing Vipers."
"Could the accident have been faked?" T'Pring asked. "Such things are known to happen from time to time."
Solon shrugged and looked at Omega for help. "This is more your field than mine, Colonel."
"I suppose it is possible," Omega replied thoughtfully, "if someone is desperate enough. And no one can tell who else might have survived, hiding deep in the underbellies of some of the civilian ships. Theoretically, Sire Gamesh could be still alive… and Anton, Uri and the others would probably want to change that fact very much."
"But what made them believe the lieutenant could tell them anything about it?" Sire Ixion asked in slight bewilderment.
"Because I was the leader of the Viper squadron that was chasing the Libran shuttle, after Sire Gamesh and his people had fled the Rising Star," Starbuck realized. "They probably believed that I've helped them escape somehow."
"Have you?" T'Pring asked matter-of-factly. Starbuck glared at her as if he suspected she'd suddenly lost her mind.
"Hades, no!" he exclaimed. "I'd rather polish a Cylon's astrum than help a madman… no offence, Sire Solon," he added hurriedly.
"None taken," the Chief Opposer replied. "Many people considered Gamesh a madman, a political adventurer – I happen to disagree. He was a bit overzealous, true, but Sire Ikimi is right. Without the Libran Revolt, not a third of our people would have survived."
"One person's villain is another person's hero," Hunter said philosophically. "In any case, I don't believe that the lieutenant was captured to figure out Sire Gamesh's fate. Every other pilot from the squadron would have done. They most likely took him because someone had recognized his special birthmark. And since he was in their hands anyway, they used the chance to find out whether he knew anything about Gamesh."
"That still does not explain why were they so eager to find a supposedly dead man," Dr. Sekhet said thoughtfully.
"It does, if they had a well-founded suspicion that the man isn't quite dead," Sire Ixion replied. "And if they had a reason to fear his potential reappearance. Am I right to assume that New Libra would welcome him with open arms?" he looked at Solon who nodded.
"I'd say that by the next election he even might get back into the seat of the Libran councillor," he said.
"That might work as a theory," T'Pring said. "But if we want to see clear in this case, we need proof. And logic indicates that the only way to find proof would be to find the man himself. Assumed that he is still alive, of course."
"He must have known things about Uri and his allies that could get them a tribunal," Omega added thoughtfully. "After all, he'd worked with Uri for many yahrens. So, if we find him, we might find the exact thing we need to get rid of them."
"That won't be easy," Hunter warned. "The man had managed to remain unnoticed in such a small, closed society as your fleet had been until recently. Now that the refugees have scattered over the entire sector, he has even more chances to stay hidden."
"Most of our people still live on Earth," Solon said, "since the terraforming of New Libra hasn't been finished yet. There, we'd have no chance. But those who work on the project, live on one of those godawful Cylon basestars; we can try some careful investigation there."
"Careful?" Sire Ixion repeated in surprise. "Why should we be careful?"
"Because no Libran would even betray him," Solon replied. "Not even myself, were I not the Chief Opposer. As the commodore said: one person's villain is other person's legendary hero. And because Anton and his allies would have him terminated in a micron should they find him first."
"Do we have a chance to find him at all, under these circumstances?" Sire Ixion asked doubtfully. Solon thought about that for a moment.
"To be honest… no, I don't think so," he finally asked. "Which is a shame, because we need his testimony if we want to nail Anton and his puppets to the wall… if ever."
"I can't blame the man," Omega commented dryly. "Theoretically, he's still wanted by the law. He's never been pardoned."
"Well, we didn't really have an excuse to pardon him, did we?" Solon pointed out. "If he would help us to unmask this conspiracy, however…"
"And he's supposed to know that – how exactly?" Omega asked. "You can't let the message sicker through the usual channels. Anton and his handlangers," he used the Tauron expression that was a not very polite term, to put it mildly, "are certainly watching those channels, too."
"There are ways," Solon replied. "I must not get involved myself, as it would be my duty to have him arrested, and Colonial law does not accept the testimony of convicts. Not to mention that the codes governing Tribunal for capital offences are entirely different from the norm, as part of the concessions that were made for having the death penalty suspended from Colonial jurisprudence. Tribunal must take place no later than forty-eight centars from the official declaration of charges, with all available evidence presented. Failure to produce exculpatory evidence by the time Tribunal is convened can lead to the failure of the entire process, which can't be repeated at a later time."
"That," T'Pring declared calmly (she had been the only outsider capable of sorting the Chief Opposer's words into some understandable order), "is highly illogical."
"Many of our laws are," Solon admitted. "They're based on the traditions of a society that hadn't changed for a thousand yahrens, as stability was needed to fight the Cylons with united strength. I don't doubt that we'll need to change quite a few of these laws, but I very much doubt that we'd even begin before the great work of rebuilding is done."
"Unfortunately, that's true," Sire Ixion agreed. "We need to find a way to lure Gamesh out of his hiding place – and we need to find a way to keep him safe until Tribunal. After that, pardoning him as a reward can be considered."
"My father, who's currently the nominal head of our Planetary Council, can make some careful moves," Solon said, "but I don't believe that Gamesh would trust him."
"So we do nothing?" Athena was very obviously displeased with the idea.
"Not quite," Solon answered. "As I said, there are ways. Or, more accurately, there is a person whom Gamesh would trust enough to approach him. Unfortunately, that person is out of reach at the moment."
Sire Ixion frowned for a moment, then he nodded in understanding. "Of course. Colonel Tigh."
"Exactly," Solon said. "But we can't speak to him directly right now, and I won't risk to contact him via subspace communication. Especially if you say that Cassiopeia can't be trusted without doubt. She's his diplomatic attaché and has access to the secure channels… and to his official mail."
"What about calling Tigh back for some nebulous reason?" Omega asked.
Solon shook his head. "It's too early. He's just left – it would raise suspicions. Besides, we still need to do a great deal of work before we can strike. It will take yahrens to find all the people involved. Looping off the head of this… organization wouldn't be enough, not even close. We need to catch the mediators and the hirelings, too, or else we'll be facing the same problem a decade later. I suggest that we leave Adama in charge of this delicate affair. I assume we all agree that he is the right person to hold all strings in his hand, don't we?"
Everyone nodded. Adama's integrity was beyond any doubt. Hunter looked at T'Pring.
"What's your position in this, Ambassador?" she asked.
"I believe Sire Solon's suggestion has its merits," the Vulcan said thoughtfully. "We shall need time, too, to lay open all possible Federation involvement in this unfortunate affair. I shall consult Commodore Drake Reed from Starfleet Intelligence and keep in touch with Siress Athena. That should suffice for the time being. When we know more, we can consider the next steps."
"What about Lieutenant Demos, though?" Hunter asked. "Won't it be dangerous for him to stay here? I'd hate to lose a pilot like him, but Starbase 7 is on the doorstep of the New Colonies. Won't he be recognized again – and perhaps by the wrong person?"
"Could you get him reassigned to a different outpost?" Omega asked.
"He is right here," Starbuck interrupted angrily, "and he is not going anywhere. No," he put out his chin stubbornly, seeing that Omega wanted to say something, "leave it, Colonel. It's no use. I won't go anywhere. Not now when I've finally learned who I am – more deeply than I even knew. I might serve in your Border Patrol now, Commodore, but I'm still a Colonial warrior – and I hope to put on my old uniform again, once this mess is cleared out for good."
At first Athena wanted to argue with him but seeing that steely glance in his eyes she decided against it. There were times when no amount of arguing would make Starbuck change his mind. This seemed one of those times.
"As you wish," she said with a frustrated little sigh. "When that day comes, though, Father wants you to remember that you're still family. You'll always have a place in our home, no matter what."
"Thank you, Theni," Starbuck murmured, clearly touched. His eyes were warm and gentle now, and for the first time since he'd recognized the pilot, Omega could see the old Starbuck; the one he'd feared would be lost forever.
Having reached temporary consensus about the issue, T'Pring declared the meeting closed. They had not been able to decide any actual move that could have been done, and there were still lots of questions open, but at least they had a beginning. From now on, there would be quiet, meticulous work and constant observation. And one day, in the hopefully not so far future, Starbuck would be able to take his rightful place in society again. Whether it would be as a combat pilot, as an instructor of the Flight Academy on New Caprica or as the Leonid councillor, due to the fact that he was the last member of a noble House, it was to be seen.
"You know," he commented later in the evening, sitting with Jolly in a bar preferred by Starfleet personnel mostly, "I don't really mind the delay. I'm not ready to put Sire before my name just yet."
Jolly did not deign to give him an answer to that. He just snorted derisively and attacked the large bowl of excellent Andorian stew standing in front of him on the table with due enthusiasm.
As Starbuck had often pointed out in the past, the finest points of sarcasm were hopelessly lost on him.
TBC