Consequence
Of Alliance
-Chapter 1-
"You sent Sheba?"
The question was supposed to sound nonchalant, but Adama could hear the protective note in his son's voice. It wasn't unfamiliar, yet it took him a moment to realise the last time he'd heard it had been before the mission to the planet where they had found Count Iblis. Then, Apollo had questioned sending her along with Starbuck and himself, but in the days that followed, the Commander hadn't had time to wonder why.
Now, Adama knew that his son cared for Sheba. In what way he was not exactly sure, but it was most certainly there. In the very deepest, forbidden reaches of his soul, a place that Apollo couldn't, or possibly wouldn't, acknowledge existed; it was there.
He sighed inwardly. Ever since Serina died, tragically early in their marriage, Apollo had tortured himself continually with the thought that he might have been able to save her, were his reactions quicker. That she might still be alive, had he not married her. Barring Boxey, it seemed he had vowed to never, ever allow himself to be open to that kind of pain again and shut himself off to all emotions, good or bad. And then, Sheba had come, so suddenly, to be a part of his life and subtly, unwillingly, something had changed.
Privately, Adama wasn't surprised that Apollo had fallen for Cain's daughter. He had noticed the way his son had extended kindness to her when she had been ripped from her world on the Pegasus and deposited, injured, on the *Galactica*. After that, and the encounter with Iblis, they seemed to have developed some kind of emotional bond. Only, Apollo seemed reluctant to acknowledge it.
"Yes, Apollo, I did," he replied slowly. "Why?"
Apollo shook his head and mumbled something incomprehensible, leaving Adama again lost in thought as he turned and left the bridge.
Almost immediately, Tigh advanced from the side, saying something about Baltar and the Council of Twelve, but the Commander wasn't listening, occupied by other thoughts.
His son had been on his mind a great deal over the last secton, as had many other things. He would almost certainly have the Council to contend with over his agreement to release Baltar, and the people of the Fleet weren't going to be all that happy about it either. The last thing he need was to be worrying about Apollo.
It wasn't that he didn't care; he did. He just didn't have time to address his son's problems when the Fleet had so many of its own. He feared that the people might do something drastic when they found out about the traitor's impending liberation. In a way, Adama didn't blame them; to have to allow the instrument of their destruction to go free without a suitable punishment was eating him up inside. But he had promised, and Adama never broke his promises.
He felt Tigh's hand on his arm, gently shaking him out of his worries. "Adama?"
He started. "Yes?"
"The Council wants to see you *right now,*" Tigh stressed.
Adama looked confused. "Sorry, old friend. I was elsewhere."
The Colonel nodded sympathetically, and repeated his message.
*~*
"You really think he'll let Baltar go?" Starbuck said, a disbelieving look on his handsome features, as he took a long draught from the mug of baharri in front of him, followed by a long drag from his fumarello.
Apollo remained silent, his green eyes vacant, not taking in anything around him, ignoring the hustle and bustle of the Officer's Club. He didn't want to be there, didn't want to be anywhere, except somewhere he could be alone. But his friend had bumped into him after he left the bridge and had literally dragged him to the club.
Then again, he thought glumly as he caught a glimpse of a small group of warriors laughing loudly by the bar, the distraction wasn't entirely unwelcome.
Noticing his friend's lack of attention, Starbuck rolled his eyes and leaned across the table to jolt Apollo out of his thoughts. "Hey, buddy, you awake?"
"Huh? Oh, sorry, I. . ." Apollo paused. "What did you say?"
"Welcome back!" Starbuck grinned. "You know, I'm beginning to think I'd be better talking to myself! I said, do you think the Commander'll really let Baltar go?"
"I suppose so." Apollo sounded distant, as he gazed blankly into the drink that sat before him. "He said he would."
Starbuck frowned slightly. "Apollo, is anything wrong? I mean, you seem kind of. . ." He searched for the right word. ". . .pre-occupied lately."
He had noticed that Apollo had been distant, pretty much since they'd got back. After joining in the initial celebrations following the basestar's destruction, he had become increasingly quieter and more withdrawn. Starbuck wasn't sure why, but he strongly suspected that something had happened between him and Sheba in that Cylon Raider, only he knew better than to ask. The last time he had hinted that Apollo had an interest in her, he had almost exploded with rage, and that was something Starbuck was not overly eager to experience again.
"No, I'm fine." Apollo sounded even further away than before.
Starbuck sighed and ordered another baharri.
*~*
Sheba adjusted her headset and checked the controls. Gazing out the shuttle window, she could see the ground crews moving away from the craft, their inspections finished. Her own checks were complete; everything seemed to be in correct, working order. They were ready. Any micron now. . .
"Transferring core control to shuttle Alpha, launch when ready," Omega's unfamiliar voice echoed through the earpiece.
Sheba nodded to her co-pilot, a warrior named Jonas, entered the course into the computer and launched the shuttle into the stars, towards the prison barge and Baltar.
*~*
When Adama reached the Council chambers, he found all the other members waiting for him. They sat tall and proud, serious expressions adorning their faces. As he walked to his chair at the head of the table, he couldn't help but notice the unspoken allegations in their eyes. What was wrong now?
He had barely sat down when the loud voice of Sire Domra boomed across the room. "We have been told, Adama, that you plan to release Baltar. Is that true?" he questioned, his tone taut and business-like, only a hint of the strain he was feeling showing on his face.
Adama had known they would find out eventually, was surprised, in fact, that it hadn't happened sooner, and knew they would react badly. It was to be expected really. Here was the greatest traitor humanity had ever known, finally being punished for his crimes, and now he was going to be freed. At least if Adama got his way.
During the attack on the Cylon base star, the Council had not become involved, nor asked any questions, when he had told them of the impending battle. They had no choice. If they did not attack, utilising the small advantage they had, then they would surely be destroyed. As Tigh had said, there was no other way. They could not turn back and they could not get around it- they had to fight.
He looked up at the accusing faces seated round the room: Sires Domra, Antipas, Montrose, and Geller. Councillors Anton, Leto and Ulysses. Siresses Tinia, Octavia and Lenara. They glared at him, waiting for his answer. Slowly he nodded and sighed, "Yes, I am."
The moment he spoke, angry voices erupted around the room.
"Adama, you can't possibly-"
"Are you insane?!"
"What's possessed you?!"
"Please, everyone, calm down!" Adama shouted. "There *is* a reasonable explanation!"
"Well, we'd certainly like to hear it!" Tinia called, rising slightly from her chair. "You are talking about releasing *Baltar*. The person responsible for the annihilation of the Colonies. The person who, less than four sectars ago, took this Council hostage in a bid to gain his freedom. The person who allied himself with the Cylons and," she added, "if we hadn't captured him, could very well have been in command of the base ship we destroyed only a few days ago. What possible explanation could there be?"
"Without him, we might never have defeated that base ship," Adama said quietly.
"What are you talking about?" Montrose spoke up.
"Baltar gave us technical information about the base star in exchange for his freedom. Without it, Apollo and Starbuck might not have even found the control room. They couldn't have destroyed it and we might all be dead," he replied calmly.
The Council sat in silence, stunned at the knowledge of the alliance between the two nemeses.
"Adama. . . why?" the elderly Councillor Anton finally managed to ask.
"I had no choice, Anton. The skill of our Warriors precedes any I have ever known but, still, they're only human. We had to make sure we got the first strike; it was the only way," the Commander replied. "What would you have had me do? Let Apollo and Starbuck fly into that base ship with no knowledge of where they were going? What they had to find?" He shook his head defiantly. "I would not do that. Even if it meant I had to bargain with Baltar; even if it meant I had to free him."
"Yes, Adama, but what of the people? How will they react when they find out that the reason for their desperate voyage across the stars is to be released? Allowed to walk free, after the crimes he has committed."
"*Hopefully,*" he stressed, "they will not find out."
"We will not have to worry about that, Adama," Antipas said. "He will not be freed."
The other Council members nodded and murmured in agreement as Adama glared at the man, knowing full well where the conversation was heading. "What do you mean?"
"As you pointed out, Baltar provided us with invaluable technological data; he could again. The bottom line is that we cannot afford to let him go. What if we find ourselves in a similar position, in need of his knowledge again? Where would he be? Stuck on a planet in the middle of nowhere, for he surely couldn't be let loose among the people of the fleet. What then, Adama?"
"Sire Antipas, the only reason Baltar offered his knowledge was in exchange for freedom. If we don't give it to him, who knows what he'll do? He certainly won't offer it again. Who would, after being tricked like that?"
"You did not answer the question, Adama," Octavia's voice rang out.
"Oh yes I did, Octavia. No matter what you do or say, Baltar will not give us any more information. *Can't you understand that?!*" he shouted. What was wrong with these people? Why couldn't they understand?
"We shall see, Adama," Antipas said coolly. "We shall see."
*~*
"You know, I'd have thought the Commander would have sent his son on this mission," Jonas broke the uneasy silence of the journey. He had not had much to do with the daughter of the legendary Cain, and was unsure of how to pursue a conversation. Truth be told, he was slightly intimidated by her and her status as a warrior. She was one of the elite, a member of Blue Squadron, while he wasn't even cleared to fly a viper, only elevating from his status in Colonial security two days ago.
Sheba noticeably flinched at the mention of Apollo. It was obvious he'd been avoiding her since he got back, and that hurt. So much so that she had miserably accepted this mission in an attempt to distance herself from the *Galactica* and anything concerning the dark-haired captain.
She didn't understand why he couldn't just tell her the truth and put her out of her misery, instead of hurting her like this. She deserved that, at least.
Frustrated and upset, she quickly turned away from Jonas, pretending to adjust some controls, before he could see the tears in her eyes.
"I mean, he's the one that usually goes on all these high-risk missions," the co-pilot joked. Was Sheba ignoring him? He hoped not. She might not know him very well, but that was no reason not to be civil, at the very least. He chuckled slightly, shaking his head. "There's always high stakes on whether he's gonna make it back or not."
She whirled round in her chair, eyes flashing, her whole body seething with anger. "What?!"
He didn't answer, frightened by the rage in her eyes. What in the name of Kobol was her problem? What had he said? He started to reply, but it came out in a stutter.
Sheba glared at him, struggled to control herself and turned back to the side, leaving Jonas, open-mouthed, gazing at her back, still unable to speak. His ill-timed mention of Apollo made her thoughts jump unwillingly back to the conversation she had had with him on the Cylon raider, before he and Starbuck had rushed off to disable the base star's scanners.
He had sensed what she wanted before she had even begun to speak, expected it even, and told her firmly that there was no way she was coming with them. What he couldn't in any way have expected was an accusation of a death wish and suddenly learning how she really felt about him; how she had felt for quite some time.
Looking back, she deeply regretted throwing Serina at him. That hadn't been fair. What did she know about it? She wasn't there; she couldn't know. She might have gone to the trouble of finding out about it, but that was no excuse.
It was all such a mess. Apollo had obviously been angry and hurt and that was the last thing she wanted. In fact, it was probably one of any number of reasons he had chosen to avoid her.
She sighed. Now that he knew exactly how she felt, it seemed he didn't care one bit. Jamming her fists into her eyes to stop the tears from flowing, she turned back to the controls.
*Damn you, Apollo,* she thought as the prison barge came into view. *Damn you.*
*~*
Baltar paced repeatedly up and down the tiny holding cell, muttering to himself. He longed to escape his Colonial prison, to walk freely where and when he chose. To do as he alone desired and to be, once again, a part of the race known as man; the race he had betrayed.
But that could never be- Adama would see to that. Would make sure. . .
Oh yes, he would soon get out of this detestable cage, but to where? A desolate, barely-habitable rock in the furthest reaches of the galaxy where he would rot until maybe, just maybe, a Cylon patrol would find and rescue him?
"No!" he snarled, it would not happen like that. He wouldn't allow it. Baltar could not, would not, be treated like that. He had commanded base ships. Conquered worlds. And yet had been unable to completely wipe out the last vestiges of mankind and achieve the glory he desired; the glory he deserved. For that he would make sure they all perished. For that he would make Adama pay.
His mind, driven to the point of insanity by his isolation, unfulfilled obsessions, dangerous desires and helpless, unchannelled frustration, was already hatching a plot to return to his former allies in triumph, with a crushed and defeated Adama by his side and, eventually, the *Galactica* and her fleet as his prisoners.
He fingered the sharp blade he had accumulated last night from the prison barge's mess hall. True, it was only a large shard of glass, but it would serve his purpose, at least until he found something more substantial.
Soon. . .
The echo of footsteps interrupted his raving thoughts as a Colonial Warrior marched down the dim corridor towards his lonely cell. He quickly concealed the shard on his person, as the man advanced to his door.
"Hello there, Baltar. Commander Adama would like a word with you," Jonas said.
"Well, it's about time, I must say," he smiled. "He's kept me waiting for almost a secton, you know."
Baltar sized the man up as he spoke. Tallish, strong build, but inexperienced in the field of the Warrior. The overbearing disposition and swagger were indicating someone who was far, far too sure of himself. He would be easily overcome. The first victim of what was to come.
Fingering the shard in his pocket, he followed Jonas in the direction of the waiting shuttle. . .