Old Soul Chapter 4

Message in a Bottle

The next two days seemed to have dragged on forever. Michael was an amiable shadow, but a shadow nonetheless. He arranged for off duty pilots to begin recruiting shifts among the fleet. He saw to the schedule and managed to catch up all the paperwork Lee had fallen behind on. But at the end of his shift, Apollo was once again allowed no farther than the Officers' Club or his own room. That was when Michael's babysitting started and Lee's frustration flared.

"Don't you have a life?" he growled, as Michael walked into his office with two plates of rations.

"Sir, as you aptly put it, I am a priest. As such, I am not really allowed a 'life'."

"Can't be too strict, they let you in the military."

"No, not really, I sort of placed myself in the military. My brethren did not approve of my decision and tried to get my commission voided. I was lucky that the board that heard their complaints only had one Gemmon, but that was counter-balanced by one Adama."

"So my father got you the job." Apollo grimaced.

"No," the ensign countered. "I got me the job. The Commander just helped me keep it." He explained, "I was of age, and despite my religion, felt I should have the same right as any other human to be of service in the protection of the worlds."

"But your robes, the circlet, aren't they symbols of..."

"High Priest?" the ensign interrupted. "Yes. Do you know what a high priest is? He is a bottle...that is all...nothing more than a bottle; he is a bottle that holds the memories of all the high priests before him." Apollo could hear a tinge of anger in Michael's voice. "The Gemmon sect was originally intended to be a way of life, not a religion. Somewhere down the road, the concept got scrambled. You don't really believe the brotherhood meant for the followers to only have sexual relationships once every seven years, do you? Power can be a truly dangerous thing."

"You sound bitter."

"Part of me is. When a High Priest is preparing to die, the Gemmon priests, who are psychics of different levels, set out to find a gifted child to become the High Priest. Most were chosen from those who were children of the priests; it was just another way to maintain the control of the power. My mother was Caprican. She did not follow the ways of the Gemmon, nor did she give up her child willingly. I was taken from my mother's womb. She never knew me and I never knew her."

"There are laws to protect people from things like that," Lee objected.

"Sometimes justice is blind to that which she chooses not to face," Michael countered.

"So if you no longer choose to be a priest, why is it you still wear the robes?"

"There are both pasts and futures I cannot ignore. The people need their symbols of faith now more than ever. I have a chance to make the religion what it was originally intended. Oddly enough, I would not have survived the first attack had I remained at the temple. Just as you would not have survived had you been on board your Battlestar, instead of here, the one place in all the worlds you truly did not want to be."

The fire of molten brown and gold seemed to blaze in Michael's eyes more brightly than Apollo had ever seen before.

"...and before you ask, no, I haven't tried to read your mind," the young priest added. "The jewel prevents that. Psychic abilities are not always necessary to see what one feels. Unlike most of the priests of my sect, I cannot freely delve into the thoughts of another or shut everyone else's emotions out. I can focus on one or two people for short periods, but eventually others begin to push though, until I feel as if I will explode. It is the use of that ability that allows them to transfer the memories; it is how the first High Priest links to the child in order to feed the memories into him. More often than not, the priest would die during the transfer. This gave fuel to the notion that the not only were the memories passed on, but the soul, as well. Since my birth, I have held the memories of every priest since the time of Prenoch, the first Gemmon priest.

"I have all these memories cramped up inside me with those of all the other souls stolen from their loved ones. Such is the way of man and that is why I must wear the circlet, and more importantly, the stone that is the cork that holds all those memories inside me. Don't get me wrong; I will not explode if I take the circlet off. I have been without it for as many as five hours; I can relive things that no other would believe. During that time I can remember things I am not old enough to know of in such detail, and that gives many people the security they search for within their religion. I have been training myself to control these memories, to open the portals that lead to my past lives, but it is difficult. After a while, my other gift interferes and I begin absorbing the sensations around me like a magnet attracts steel. The pain becomes so great that I cannot see."

Apollo could see the thought of the pain radiate from this young officer. Yet he seemed to accept it with all the maturity of one who had lived many lifetimes.

"So what is to happen if you don't survive the holocausts? You're in the military now. Who will you transfer your memories to?" Talon shrugged his shoulders. "I never really thought about it. Truthfully, I don't believe there is any real need to transfer them any further."

"I guess not." Apollo agreed "So, why did you join? I mean, the chances of you actually having any career seems slim, but I can honestly say I would not have expected to find a Gemmon high priest slash pilot... even on board an old tub like the Galactica."

Michael's eyebrows arched a bit. A slight smile crossed his face. "I like to think it was just another part of my destiny. I have always wanted to be an explorer, and can you think of a better way to explore than to join the military? The pilot part was pretty much a plus. When your father backed me up, he told the council he had no problem with me being part of his crew; that if I could hack the academy, I could fly with him anytime. So you might say I took his words to heart; I enlisted in the flight program."

"Yeah, I know about taking his words to heart. Be careful - that has been known to be a major mistake."

"Are you talking about your brother, or yourself?" Michael asked.

Lee eyes flashed fire, but quickly cooled as he began to rub his temples. "I.... am... I am talking too much."

"Or not enough. Captain, I know you are just tolerating me, but I am willing to listen."

"No. No, thank you," he laughed. "I am not willing to confess my sins yet."

"There are really very few people who don't know about the strained relationship between you and your father, Apollo." Apollo's glare was more than familiar. "Your father never talks about it, either. Prideful bunch you Adamas. He does talk about you more than you would think, but it has always been about how well you've done. How much you have done. But the funeral, no, he will not talk about it either, except on occasion when Starbuck is around. I have a feeling that it is the only reason he hasn't lost his composure."

"I really... really don't care," Apollo growled.

Michael sighed. "I hate to be the one to tell you this but..."

"Look, we are working it out... leave it be," Apollo interrupted.

"As I was about to say," the ensign went on anyway, "I hate to be the one to tell you this but...it is late and you have an early day planned. Dr. Wilker wanted to see you in the Sci-lab, we have an inspection on the Tanker Orlon, and if you plan on being free of me anytime soon, you will need to make your appointment with Doctor Salik well rested...Sir."

"O.....kay, as soon as I get my foot out of my mouth, I will apologize."

"No need, sir. I understand what it is like to feel like everyone else has control of my life. For years, I felt as if I were a fish in a tiny glass bowl with thousands of eyes staring down at me like stars."

"Then why did you join the military? Surely, you did not believe you would be any less exposed?"

"I guess it really doesn't make a whole lot of sense jumping from one fish bowl to another," Michael admitted. "But at least here, I have a choice and a freedom I could never have had there. You might say I saw an opportunity and snatched it."

"Is that how you got your call sign? Because you're like a bird of prey; once you find something, you don't give up until it is in your clutches."

"No," Michael laughed. He ran his fingers though his dark curly hair and lifted the circlet from his head then handed it over to Apollo. Apollo received it carefully, as if he were holding an explosive device rather than a piece of jewelry. The circlet was beautifully crafted silver, with what appeared to be other types of metal woven around it. One metal piece came to sturdy extension that dropped slightly and held the beautiful green jewel that had seem to take on a different, even brighter luster while Apollo held it. Michael took notice of the change but said nothing. Apollo continued to look over the construction it was beautiful if not unique, and the most curious part of the design was the small extension that held the stone in place. It spread into three smaller extensions and looked very much like the claw of a large bird.

"Ah. Well that explains a lot." Apollo smiled as he handed over the jeweled crown. Again, I am sorry if I have been a pain in the butt."

"Be at peace, Captain," The young priest laughed. "If the Lords will it, I may yet have the chance to return the favor."