Part 9
Apollo's face was drawn with strain; Adama could see it even across the miles of cold space that separated them. No wonder! Each successive report his son had filed was more horrific than the last and this final one was the worst.
Adama shivered with revulsion. He felt as if the burden he bore was simply too great and he had an intense urge to just walk away – sometimes situations were just too horrendous to face, even for someone with his inner strength and resilience. And this appeared to be one of those times.
After all they had suffered with the destruction of the colonies and their subsequent flight was is too much to hope that they would be afforded a little peace; a time to relax and restore their depleted energy and optimism, a time to simply live, without the constant fear for their very lives? Instead they seemed to lurch from one disaster to another. Rarely had the pressure of command felt this impossibly onerous.
Adama took a long draw of his java and ignored the way his hand shook as he lifted the cup to his mouth. He should really get down to the Life Centre for a med evaluation but there was never enough time.
Apollo's report had been long and detailed but it did not begin to cover any of the questions in Adama's mind. Nor did it do anything except intensify the fear; stark and brutal, that shivered through him.
Boomer had researched as much as he could. He had sent men to each of the obelisks that Jolly had found. The report from each was the same – they appeared to be simply blocks of stone, ancient monuments reaching blindly to the sky, but beneath each they found a copy of identical manuscripts. All were the same; covered with no words but beautifully drawn pictures – pictures that told so much and so little. They depicted the coming of a golden being, the process he would endure and the last showed the birth of a race of beings in the golden one's image.
If it had not been so horrific, Adama would have chuckled at the irony. Starbuck; a messiah! A progenitor of a whole new race of beings in his image. It did not bear thinking about and indeed, Colonel Tigh had looked quite sick at the thought of it!
And yet it appeared to be true. Everything the pictures foretold had come true thus far and Boomer had been able to extract more information on the process Starbuck was undergoing from Beagragnon too. The cleansing, the ejection of impure spirits (privately Adama had raised an eye at that, silently thinking that such a process for Starbuck would surely take an inordinate amount of time), the bleeding and the final promise. Each phase worse than the last and each one seemingly designed to haemorrhage the life out of the blonde lieutenant.
But how could it be so? And what could he do to stop it and save his man? Adama had ordered the whole of Galactica's databases searched to find anything that could help Starbuck but they had drawn a complete blank.
And now Apollo was telling him the moment was drawing near. His son was requesting leave to stay on the planet to be with Starbuck until the very end.
Adama sighed. He would have to slow the Galactica to a stop and live with the risk that the safe distance they had built up between themselves and their Cylon pursuers would be eaten away. Still Adama knew he would live with that risk.
"How is Starbuck?" he asked.
"Unbelievably calm and brave," Apollo responded. "He appears to be resigned to the whole thing. The intense pain has thankfully stopped. If I didn't know better I'd think he was enjoying the whole experience – being waited on hand and foot. He told me he was 'making the most of it!'"
Adama shook his head. "In times of adversity out true mettle is revealed," he muttered. He looked up to see his son's image waiting patiently. "The Galactica will wait for you and your men, Captain. Bring them all home as best you can. In the meantime we will continue to pray for some divine intervention. How are you, son?"
There was only a slight drop in the shoulders before Apollo pulled himself back. "It's the hardest thing I have ever done, to watch him slipping away and be able to do nothing." He gulped. "But I will be there at the end for him."
"Hope, Apollo," Adama said. "It is a powerful thing. Hold on to it. Give Starbuck all our wishes; let him know we are all thinking of him. Keep me informed of developments."
"Of course, Commander."
The screen went dead and Adama leaned back into his chair closing his eyes as a pinprick of pain centred in his forehead before radiating outwards. "Starbuck, Starbuck, Starbuck," he muttered. "How do you get yourself into these situations?"
Memories of the irrepressible blond Lieutenant and the scrapes he had survived flooded through Adama then. He did not even try to stop the smile that instantly quirked up his lips at such thoughts. He opened his eyes and glanced around his office until they came to rest on the pictures he had on the shelves by the door. Pictures of too many lost already, he thought, not another now. He glimpsed the one of Apollo and Starbuck, shoved at the back out of sight – Adama had worried that he should have a picture of two of his pilots and not the others on show – of his son maybe but of his son's wing man? Hardly the etiquette of a neutral commander but then Starbuck was a character whose complete disregard for normal protocol seemed to cause others to break the rules too.
The Commander stood up and moved to pick up the picture. He gulped as he glanced down at the two bright faces shining with the passion and hope of youth. It had been taken at their graduation from the Academy; Apollo was looking sternly at the camera, every inch the diligent Ensign. Starbuck on the other hand was languidly leaning on Apollo's shoulder, sucking on a fumerillo, looking over to the right, where Adama seemed to remember there had been a number of girls who were calling to him with somewhat suggestive remarks. Adama remembered the disgusted mutterings of the two Commanders and one Colonel he had been standing with at the time. Oh yes, military discipline and Lieutenant Starbuck had never quite seen eye to eye! That of course was why the blonde had ended up under Adam's command in the first place – no other Battlestar Commander wanted the high maintenance that came with him! And yet for all his rule-breaking and ill-discipline, the Commander knew he would not swap Starbuck for any other Colonial Warrior he had ever met. Time and again the young Lieutenant had risked everything he had and proved his bravery to keep Galactica safe. He was quite simply one of the best.
Adama found himself captivated by the twinkle in the eye of the young man in the picture. He chuckled softly. "I cannot bring myself to believe this is the end, my boy," he mused, running his finger over the image. "Making the most of it is all you're ever done, isn't it? And there is a part of me that believes your luck will hold and you will walk away from even this! The vain hopes of a sad old man, maybe, but I still believe! Find a way, Starbuck, do what you must but survive this."
He sat quietly in the dark for a long time. His mind was buzzing with questions; everything Apollo had told him plus the latest report from Dr Wilker who had been hard at work analysing the information and samples Apollo's patrol had sent back. His main conclusion seemed to be that the planet was unstable and by all accounts seemed to be dying.
Adama sighed. So many things did not make sense; so many pieces were missing and their loss was nagging at the Commander's mind. Was he missing something obvious and big? Something that would help Starbuck?
He glanced back at the printout he had been reading before Apollo had delivered his report. Dr Wilker had analysed the contents of the substance that Starbuck was been given as a painkiller – tyroot it seemed to be called. The results were startling; the liquid appeared to have remarkable similarities with tylium – the fuel of the fleet; the fuel they were running so desperately short of! Wilker had gone so far as to hypothesise they could come from the same chemical family. After getting over the initial shook that Starbuck was being dosed up with viper fuel (and the possible consequences thereof, which did not bear thinking about!) Adama had ordered Wilker to do more work – was it a substitute, could the fleet use it to aid them in their current dire straits?
And what was the link between them and this dying planet? Why had Starbuck been chosen? What had caused him to crash in the first place? Adama felt then as if he was being pulled back to the place, as if pulled in by its magnetic force. There were too many questions and the Commander knew he would find no answers sitting pondering, alone in the dark.
He stood up with a swirl of his robes and replaced the hologram at the back of his shelf. Then he made his way slowly to the bridge where his duty dictated he should be.
"Turn us around, Tigh," he said. "And get that planet on the main scanner – I want to see what is going on!"
"But…." Tigh began.
"Get a long range patrol out too – Silver Spar squadron. I want to know the centon that any Cylon comes into the quadrant!"
Starbuck opened his eyes and blinked.
He had expected to see the somewhat blurred surroundings he had gotten used to over the previous centars – the mound, the creatures milling around, a grey pitiless sky and maybe even Apollo or one of the others. Instead he found himself in the crimson pulsating world he had visited once before. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against one of the strangely warm, gossamer soft walls – he could feel the thrum of life pulsing through it. With a shudder he remembered that last time Kynan had said they were inside of him. In which case that beating noise must be his own heart and the pipes around him were veins carrying the blood around his body. He gulped, feeling more than a little queasy at such thoughts.
"Kynan," he whispered.
"Greetings, Starbuck!" There she was before him, materialising out of nowhere; a vision even more stunning and attractive than he recalled. She regarded him, eyes flashing as points of bright light in the otherwise deep scarlet 'Starbuck' universe.
"It is nearly time," she purred. "You have borne the process well – I knew you were strong but even you grow tired. I have used up all you have, all I needed. It will be over soon."
"I think there's an irony here," Starbuck murmured. "But I seem to be missing it!" He was having great difficulty in keeping his eyes open. His head too appeared to be suddenly too heavy for his neck and he had to lean to the side to balance it on his shoulder. Breathing was becoming a chore and he had to force his lungs to pump. Never-the-less he clung defiantly to his consciousness. "I was calling you," he said.
"I know."
Starbuck found the energy to pout, just. "You didn't answer."
Her smile was dazzling. "I was busy. I had more important things to do than gossip with you, entertaining though you are!"
He rolled his eyes and gulped. "Then why come now, now it's too late?"
She regarded him with soft, sympathetic eyes. "It was always too late for you, Starbuck." She stepped nearer and gently ran her elegant finger along his cheek. He shuddered slightly at her touch, closed his eyes, and almost succumbed to the darkness that waited so close to claim him, but then he forced himself awake again.
"Is it not important to you that you did not tell me the truth?" he pressed through gritted teeth.
"The truth?" she replied, her prefect eyebrows cocking upwards quizzically. She laughed then, the soft tinkle of a mountain stream. "I did not lie to you, Starbuck, I simply informed you of the facts that I felt were most pertinent to your situation!"
"There's a difference between not telling all of the truth and being completely honest!" Starbuck snapped, his head hurt and he really did not have the strength to argue further.
"And you would know of course since you have made a life of being somewhat circumspect with the truth! What truth do you wish me to be honest about this time?"
"That this was going to kill me!"
"Please! Spare me the dramatics! You are not so naive, surely! You knew, Starbuck, you have always known! How can you create new life, new civilisations if you do not give up what you already have? The power of the universe can never be destroyed or created it can only be changed. Did you really think this would be as easy as simply enduring a little pain?"
Starbuck snorted. "That is what you led me to believe."
"You were easily led!" She eyed him, curiously cool. "And what difference would it have made if I had told you? From the moment you crashed and I chose you, maybe even before that; your destiny was set. You had no choice as I had no choice."
Starbuck snorted. He didn't have the energy for this; not now she had sucked him dry! Besides he realised that fighting with her now would do him no good. His shoulders slumped, he looked away from the intensity of her eyes and sighed deeply. "I guess I'm just a little disappointed in myself – I fell for a sucker punch. Should have seen it coming! I mean I'm supposed to be the resourceful, smart one! Apollo; he's always up for a little sacrifice, self-denial even for a worthy cause. Where as good old Starbuck - reluctant hero; that's me! Dreams of glory have never been on my scanner – I'm selfish through and through and proud of it!"
She stared at him so intently then that he could not stop the shudder of disquiet that rushed through him – the sound of his heartbeat echoing all about them seemed to flutter and then beat faster. "You need not play that role, Starbuck, not for me, I know differently. You will be a legend! And it will satisfy even your need; the moment of your death will be so fulfilling in its ecstasy that you will require nothing more, ever."
Starbuck snorted again. "I don't necessarily see that as a plus point at this moment in time!"
She smiled. "I know how much you love life. It was that intensity that drew me to you. Letting go will be infinitely hard for you but that was why you were chosen. Your passion, your courage will be the spark that lights the fire of new life on this dying planet. Trust me!"
"I did, Kynan. That's what hurts!" He gulped. "You said you would be with me all the time but you left me to face it alone – the sickness, the spasms, the blood. I could have done with a little support you know!" His voice had the aspect of an indignant whine now.
"I was desperate, I did what I thought was right. I am fighting for survival as much as any other creature in this universe."
"But I thought we were partners! Seems this relationship has been a little one way; you know everything about me and I know nothing about you!"
"You would have been afraid and you had no choice."
"Frak, Kynan, I'm afraid now! Maybe, if I'd known what to expect." He shook his head slowly, his eyes glazing. "To be the founder of a whole new world, to be part of something, to be worshipped….. even if you end up dead; that is a tempting thing for somebody like me, Kynan. I may have surprised you."
"Your desire to be loved is so strong; you would have chosen this path?"
Starbuck sighed. "Maybe," he breathed grudgingly and then winked. "But don't tell anyone – I'd like to keep my inner most desires as secret as possible. I do have a reputation to uphold, you know!"
"I am sorry. I have only ever done what I thought to be right for my people. I may have been selfish but survival makes me so." She sighed. "We have no more time to debate and it matters little anyway. I am ready, you are ready. It is time."
Starbuck gulped. "Don't I get a last request? I think maybe we do need to discuss this further. And I can't die without a last hand of pyramid or a fumerillo. You might be ready but I don't think I am quite yet!"
She leaned forward, lifted his chin in her hands and kissed him passionately. He took her in his arms and pulled her close as their bodies squirmed but too soon she moved away.
"Lords! Where did you learn to kiss like that?" Starbuck asked, obviously shaken.
A sad, knowing smile played wistfully across her lips. "I am the embodiment of your dreams, remember?"
"Frak! I've been wasting my time with all this…."
"How I wish…" She cut him off. "But it is time."
Undeterred Starbuck tried again. "Maybe we should investigate a little further, for scientific reasons, obviously! I can't die without knowing more about my own dreams – that can't be right!"
"No time, Starbuck." She smiled. "But know; I and my people are grateful to you in so many ways!"
"Oh that makes it all fine then!" Starbuck looked at her eyes wide, for some sign that there was still some flexibility for him, some hope. He felt like a fish wriggling on the end of a hook, begging to be thrown back into the stream for one more shot at life, she simply stared back resolutely, ignoring the charm inherent in his forlorn but appealing enquiry. Finally with a deep pang of fear rushing through him, he allowed himself to believe there was to be no escape, not this time. Everything she had told him, everything he feared, was about to come true.
Frak! If that was the case then so be it! He had no choice in that fact but he still did have a choice in how he accepted such a destiny. Never let it be said that the celebrated Lieutenant Starbuck didn't know how to put on a show!
He snorted with resignation and gathered his remaining strength. "All right, my course is set," he said his voice soft but determined, it grew in intensity, as did the pounding of his heart. "You want me to be a legend, Kynan; I'll show you what a frakking legend can be! Move over Commander Cain; you were only ever lightweight. I am going to blast into oblivion like the fastest, biggest, most beautiful comet you have ever seen. You picked the right guy, Kynan, when you picked me. I have all the qualities and the magnetism you need. I can do this and I can do this with style! You better be watching universe cos this is going to be the greatest spectacle you have ever seen!"
TBC
