Rival
By Roberta Stuemke
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32 pages.
From his vantage point – a viewport in the Council Chamber – Commander Adama could see only a small portion of the fugitive fleet Fate had left him to command. Considering only the number of separate vessels, it was a large fleet, but there was a wide range of size, capacity, and space worthiness among those ships. In this strange collection – freighters of all sizes, space buses, a few military ships, passenger cruisers in a wide variety of styles and designs, mining survey ships, agro ships, even a prison grid barge – lived the hope of humankind in space. These were all the known survivors of the treacherous Cylon attack on the twelve human colonies. Led by Adama and one surviving battlestar, the Galactica, the fugitives dodged constant Cylon pursuit in the hope of finding the almost mythical thirteenth colony – Earth.
Just hold together, Adama prayed silently. We can survive, we can all make it, if we just hold on long enough. I know we’re heading in the right direction, and...
“Commander Adama, are you listening?” And irate voice broke into his reverie, forcing his attention back to the meeting of the Council of Twelve, the governing body of the fleet. Sire Laris, the young, powerful, and decidedly unpleasant representative of Gemon, was standing in his usual bullish pose, dominating the room.
“My apologies, Sire Laris. I plead wariness. Go on, about this riot aboard the Dawn Dreamer...”
Laris snorted in contempt, earning an angry glare from Siress Tinia, another counselor and a sometimes-ally of Adama. “For the benefit of our oh-so-tired and overburdened leader,” Laris said sarcastically, “I shall begin again.”
“There is no need, I assure you,” Adama replied quietly. “I was only distracted for a moment. You were accusing a certain Gueron of inciting a riot on this freighter.”
“Gueron is a hot headed and unfortunately popular young fool, and impossibly arrogant man who is, I think the Lords of Kobol, only half-Gemonese. Although only an Information Management Specialist, he assumes the manner of an elected official. He has always opposed our legally appointed Security Guards, who on this occasion were performing their rightful duties, monitoring the crowds of civilians from other ships who were permitted to use the Dawn Dreamer’s recreation area – a serious mistake on the part of her illegitimate captain. Gueron persuaded the civilians to turn on the Guards, and before the attack could be quelled, several guards and civilians were injured.
“I demand that Gueron, and Captain Cuyler, for good measure, be removed from the Dreamer, which, by the way, happens to belong to me despite Cuyler’s so-called declaration of independence, and be detained for trial on charges of assault and sedition against the fleet. Both of these men are dangerous to us all; Cuyler is the instigator of this crazy ‘Operation Independence’ movement, urging ships to turn against their legitimate owners, spurred on, no doubt, by Gueron. Arrest them both; I demand this as a right. The arrogance of these two is beyond belief, turning against our security guards, and telling us we no longer own that which is rightfully ours.”
Laris’ typically long-winded and convoluted demand was met by murmurs of assent from a few other counselors – all ship-owners, Adama noted cynically, who doubtless felt their power threatened.
“Have you facts to back up your claims, Laris?” Tinia began, only to fall silent at a familiar gesture from Adama.
“I have made note of Operation Independence,” Adama stated, “and it is being investigated as a possible – note the word possible – threat to the security of the fleet. As for the riot, the Galactica was duly informed of it, and I sent one of my best officers, Omega, to investigate it. Omega, would you please give us your report?” He gestured a quiet young man in the uniform insignia of a bridge officer, who had been waiting at the back of the chamber.
“I spoke to several witnesses, from several different ships, and to the Security Guards currently in Life Center, and I have to differ with Sire Laris’ conclusions, with all due respect to the Councilor. Gueron was not present in the recreation area when the disturbance began; he was on duty in the Information Management and Retrieval Center when the first blow was struck. When he did arrive, he was instrumental in halting the disturbance, rather than inciting it further.
“Also, the Security Guards themselves began the trouble, but attempting to remove a young woman from the recreation area without her consent, and by assaulting her escort when he objected. The Guards could give no valid reason for ordering her to leave with them, and her escort made no threatening action that could justify their attacks on him. The young man is a Colonial Warrior temporarily assigned to the Dreamer as a shuttle pilot; his condition is serious.” Omega paused and glanced at Adama, who nodded his approval to continue.
“I must also report that this is not the only disturbance I have investigated recently that was started by Security Guards going beyond their legal authority and jurisdiction, and the frequency of the disturbances is making ship captains all over the fleet very uneasy about the presence of Guards on their vessels. This includes several captains not allied to Operation Independence.”
“Not openly allied, anyway,” Laris muttered.
“Thank you, Officer Omega. I believe we have all the information we need from you at this time.” Tinia dismissed the bridge officer quickly, precluding any possible objections from Laris. “If we need you, we know where to contact you.”
Omega, relieved, disappeared quickly.
“I, too, have heard of these disturbances, from several sources, and I deplore them,” said the Picon Councilor, who was a little more objective than Laris, not being a ship-owner himself. “In this case, there is no justification for the arrest of Gueron, and I would prefer to hold off arresting Cuyler until we have definite evidence that he is plotting treason. Both men are decidedly popular; if we arrest them without grounds, we could encourage a real riot, and not just on one ship. I have no idea how these people are communicating with each other, since it is not through the recognized and monitored channels, but they assuredly do communicate. We must step carefully here.”
He looked around the table, waiting for comment from the others; when no one spoke, he continued, “I do encourage an investigation of these men, of course, but I think it best if it not be conducted by the Security Guards, whose recent behavior has all but destroyed their credibility. Adama, as military commander of this fleet, are you doing anything about this?”
“As I stated earlier, I have been setting up an investigation of Operation Independence. If Gueron is involved as deeply as we believe, the investigation will, of course, be expanded to include him. Discretion is my first priority here, to avoid any trouble from the more radical elements in the fleet. As a further point, I also recommend that we look into the Security Guard problem, and suspended those causing the trouble.”
The meeting was cut short by Sire Laris’ angry exit; he was followed by his allies on the Council. Shortly thereafter, Adama and Tinia were alone. “Are you really investigating the movement, Adama?”
“Quietly, yes. I must admit a certain sympathy for Cuyler’s aims; that why I’ve fought his removal from the captaincy of the Dawn Dreamer. He’s turned that ship into a fleet strong point, capable of defending herself and her neighbors quite ably. He’s young, intelligent, and a good leader. We need more like him, regardless of Laris’ complaints.”
“I know a little about Gueron, and I must’ve mixed a similar sympathy. I just wish he would take things a little slower, but then, I’m older, and we older theoreticians do tend to be more conservative. Does your investigation include any plans for meeting with him yourself?”
“Are you suggesting that I should?”
“I think you would find it interesting, yes. However, I would advise caution, and as much secrecy as possible, out of concern for Gueron’s safety, and Cuyler’s. I believe I may have told you about Cathal, who occasionally does some undercover investigating for me? Oh, yes, I know, you would prefer to meet the man face to face, but it is perhaps his secretiveness that allows him to be so effective. He believes that Laris and Uri, if they believe the threat great enough, might try to get both men off the Dreamer, and onto one of their own cruisers for trial, Council approval were not. Once they’ve been convicted, it would be very difficult, politically, for you or anyone else to upset the conviction. So we don’t want to back Laris into a corner; not yet, anyway.”
“Yes, I suppose there is such a danger. That’s the way those two would think. I’ll have to use an intermediary, to set up some kind of meeting. It’s a shame I had to have Omega report to the Council today; from now on, Laris will be suspicious of his presence anywhere but on the bridge. The meeting will have to be informal, without Council approval, or rather, official Council approval, of any kind.”
“If only we dared have Gueron meet with us formally. His political beliefs are highly original, and that’s something this Council could use. But even if it were perfectly safe, even if Laris could be persuaded not to do anything rash, I really don’t think Gueron would agree.”
Shortly after the Council meeting adjourned, Athena, Adama’s daughter, stormed down the Galactica’s corridors, heading for her father’s office. She brushed tears from her dark green eyes as she went, not caring who saw her. “That rat! That’s sneaking, conniving rat!” She muttered to herself. “When am I going to learn? ‘Things are just too unsure now for us to consider a meaningful commitment.’ Hah! I’ll bet things are too unsure. He doesn’t want to give anything up, least of all that Cassiopeia! Especially since she doesn’t have any of my ‘inhibitions,’ considering where she comes from; no need for an honest commitment, like little inhibited me! I’ll show that louse a thing or two! Please, Father, agree with me this time. Let me join the squadron, a regular fighting squadron, and I’ll have Starbuck looking up, I guarantee it!”
Before Adama’s office door, she pulled up, straightening her blue uniform and composing herself before asking permission to enter. When she went in, Adama was standing behind the desk, looking at a family portrait: Adama; her mother Ila, who had died on Caprica; her older brother Apollo, the fleet’s chief pilot; Athena herself; and her younger brother Zac, the first victim of the Cylon’s sneak attack on the peace mission. Adama had spent a lot of time lately thinking about Zac and their mother; Athena knew this, and she almost felt guilty bringing her problems to him. Man troubles were so insignificant when put beside the difficulties of holding this rag-tag fleet together against the combined efforts of the pursuing Cylons and the bickering Council.
Adama was daydreaming. It was yahrens ago, when he and Ila were still very young, only just sealed. She’d been something like Tinia, politically-minded and outspoken, almost disappointed when all three of their children chose to follow Adama in military careers instead of choosing politics like their mother.
Athena had to call him twice to bring him back to the present; he shook himself out of the daydream and turned to face her. It still amazed him that this feminine version of his own rough-iron looks was openly courted by several of the most eligible bachelors in the fleet, including the dashing Starbuck. “Yes, Athena? Problems?”
“Not really, Father. It was just an excuse to see you.”
“You don’t need an excuse, you know that. Now, Athena, don’t put it off. I’m as much your father as I’ve ever been, and that includes discussing problems. Let me guess. It’s Starbuck again, isn’t it?”
“You’re telepathic, Father, did you know that?” Athena embraced him. “Yes, it’s Starbuck. I keep trying to tell myself that I don’t care about him, and he’s free to see anyone he chooses, but I guess I still... I don’t know. Sometimes, I hate him. And I wish I could hate Cassiopeia... I was gaining on him until she came along.”
“Now, don’t blame Cassiopeia – at least, not for the flaws in Starbucks nature. He’s just not ready yet. You may have to give him a lot of time. Tell me, what can I do to cheer you up?”
“You should know; I’ve asked you often enough. I’m good pilot, even Apollo says so; that’s one thing I’m good at that Starbuck respects. Please, let me join a fighting squadron. I feel… well, wasted, as a systems analyst.”
“It’s an important job, Athena, and you’re very good at it. I need you there right now, more than I need another pilot. The fleet academy is turning out more pilots all the time.”
“As you said yourself, these are cadets – cadets flying makeshift Vipers built in the foundry ships! I’m already past that, I’ve flown in combat. Please, let me fly!” Athena turned toward the viewport, through which, at that point, only the luxury liner Rising Star could be seen. “I want to make a really valuable contribution to the fleet, not just do something you’d be better off using a cadet for.”
“An important contribution, is it? Well now, Athena, if I could give you an important assignment, requiring discretion, diplomacy, one which involves the security of the whole fleet, would that be satisfactory?”
“What are you up to? If this is some made-up a job to flatter my ego, Father, I swear I’ll...”
“It’s not a made-up job. It’s something we’ve discussed in Council. I need an intermediary, and emissary, to meet with someone for me, to discuss his aims without advertising the meeting all over the fleet. I thought possibly of sending Apollo, but with Boxey sick, I can’t separate him from his son right now. Omega is now known to be one of my investigators, so I can’t really use him in this case. You would be a personal representative, rather than a representative of the Council or the fleet as a whole. The man might be persuaded to trust you.”
“Who is he, and why is he so important?” Athena was still suspicious.
“His name is Gueron, and he’s an Information Management Specialist aboard the Dawn Dreamer.”
“Where they had the riot?”
“Correct. He’s become a political leader, and could possibly pose a threat to the fleet if he’s not checked in some way. You see, Athena, this is important, and it may require more subtle maneuvering that flying a Viper. Unless, of course, you don’t think you can handle it. It’s something your mother would have enjoyed, but I suppose you…”
“You old woods daggit! I’m being manipulated again! All right, I’ll do it. Who briefs me?”
“Talk to Omega; it’s been his investigation. And if I were you, I wouldn’t wear a uniform. Uniforms aren’t very popular aboard the Dreamer are right now.”
Athena and Adama embraced again, and the young woman left, still shaking her head. Adama turned back to the portrait of Ila. “She’s your daughter, too, Ila. I only hope she’s inherited some of your skills. To deal with Gueron, she may need them.”
Even as Adama was meeting with his only daughter, two powerful and wealthy men – the elder an ex-Councilor, the younger the current councilor from Gemon – met on the older man’s cruiser, the Rising Star, to discuss a mutual problem.
“Adama’s not going to stop them. He doesn’t see the danger, and he has nothing to lose. We’ve got to stop those two before they spread their infection across the fleet. When we get to wherever it is we end up, I’ve no intention of being poor,” the older man said.
“You don’t have to persuade me, Uri – or any of the other ship-owners. But Adama is unpersuadable, and some of the other counselors are openly sympathetic – the jealous ones who own nothing themselves. If we do get Gueron and Cuyler here for trial, they are likely to become popular heroes. We have to find a more permanent solution.” Laris’ handsome face was set in an ugly scowl.
Uri smiled recently. “Yes, more permanent. There are a few such... professional men... left in the fleet. Let us seek one out; I’m sure some suitable arrangement can be made.” He laughed, shortly and without humor.
Athena felt somewhat uncomfortable in civilian dress. She had even changed her hair, wearing it in a more sophisticated, older style. A few other passengers in the regular shuttle making its way across the fleet, who were unaware of her identity, openly admired her, but her mind was focused on Omega’s briefing.
“Cuyler will undoubtedly know who you are and he’ll be informed by his people as soon as you identify yourself to the rec area monitor. Be honest, or Cuyler’ll eat you up before you ever get to see Gueron. You’re an emissary from Adama, there to discuss the riot and the security guard problem with Gueron, since he was openly accused in Council and should have his own say. Only Gueron need to know at first that the conference is more important than that. He’ll probably give Cuyler a full report as soon as you’ve left, but the captain won’t be able to interfere at that point.”
The Dawn Dreamer was a popular stop, and at least half the shuttles passengers disembarked there. Most of the ships in this lower portion of the fleet were too small and too crowded to have open recreation areas, and many civilians here couldn’t afford the more expensive pleasures offered by the Rising Star and the Moon Singer, Sire Laris’ luxury ship. This made the Dawn dreamer a major draw among people starved for entertainment.
Omega was right about the monitor; very close attention was paid when she stated her name and that she wanted to meet with Gueron. Before she had crossed halfway through the first entertainment area, she was met by a man perhaps a little older than Apollo, wearing the insignia of a civilian ship’s captain. From Omega’s briefing, Athena found it easy to recognize Cuyler, the half-Gemonese, half-Libran captain of the Dreamer.
“Cuyler was originally the second officer. His pure years died in the evacuation, and he more or less inherited the captaincy. Laris at first didn’t care, or probably didn’t even notice, and by the time he had to notice, Cuyler was too popular to the openly dismissed. Laris had been trying to remove him but more subtle means ever since. Don’t be taken in by the slouch in the lazy manner, either; that’s all a mask.”
“Athena, this is an honor for the Dawn dreamer,” Cuyler said casually. He slipped a strong arm around her elbow. “You’ll find the ship’s movements a little more noticeable than the Galactica’s; I hope it won’t discomfort you too much. Could I persuade you to join me in my cabin before introduce you to Gueron?”
She’d been expecting the invitation, which was closer to an order, and which, even as it was by the ship’s captain, had to be obeyed. As they moved through the battered old ship’s corridors, she took the opportunity to study Cuyler. He moved with a born spacer’s easy lope, adjusting instinctively to the ship’s motion. He was taller than her brother, and lighter, but not quite as fair as Starbuck, built square and solid like Boomer, another of Apollo’s top pilots. His uniform was well worn, almost threadbare in places, and totally devoid of the fancy decorations worn by many civilian captains to make up for the lack of military braid or ribbon.
Omega’s words echoed in her mind. “Don’t be fooled by the plainness of his garb. He earned several civilian declarations during the evacuation and in battle after Carillon. I don’t know if he had chosen not to wear them as part of his mask, or if he just doesn’t like ostentation.”
Cuyler’s cabin turned out to be just that – not an office, but his personal cabin, obviously inhabited by more than one person. On his cluttered desk was a holographic portrait of a small, dark woman in a ceiling gown. Omega had mentioned her also.
“He’s married to a Tauron. Trista was a systems analyst, but was blinded in the destruction. Now she teaches. By the way, she’s even more political than Cuyler, and possibly more so that Gueron, so if you meet her, be cautious.”
“I must admit to curiosity,” Cuyler said, settling her in a comfortable and well-worn chair. He himself perched on the corner of the desk. “We’ve only merited a desk officer before this. Why suddenly the commander’s daughter?”
“My father wanted this to be discreet, quiet. This seemed an adequate solution. Let me assure you that I am qualified. I am, after all, more than just a commander’s spoiled little girl.”
“I’m sure. I apologize if I gave you the impression of insult where none was intended. It’s just that I’m in a somewhat awkward position here; you must understand that. With at least one Councilor gunning for me, I have to be careful. I sent word to Gueron; he’ll be here shortly. I don’t suppose you’d consider including me in your... discussions?”
“My instructions were to speak to Gueron along – with your consent, of course, since you are the recognized captain of this ship.” Cuyler nodded briefly at this, although she could sense he wasn’t pleased. She continued, “I’m here informally, Captain. You needn’t worry about official action, not at this time, anyway.”
The entry signal sounded, and Cuyler moved to open the cabin door. Athena rose to meet one of the handsomest men she had ever encountered. Gueron was slender, about Starbuck’s height but built on finer lines, with medium and dark hair and green eyes that were the only sign of his Gemonese heritage; his general appearance was much closer to the Tauron. His smile was bright, and seemingly unwary and open, but Athena caught the glance he exchanged with Cuyler. Her own smile seemed to her to be forced, and she felt uneasy for a moment. Then she shrugged it off; her father was expecting her to succeed, and she had no intention of disappointing him.
“I’m most honored, Athena. Your father is a hero of mine,” Gueron said, offering his arm and gesturing back at the door.
Athena knew this was probably untrue – How do I know that? – but felt herself warming to him anyway. As his eyes traveled down her feminine frame, she felt, curiously enough, as though she were being complemented, not insulted. If only Starbuck would look at her like that! Unfortunately, it was a look he most often turned on Cassiopeia.
Arm in arm with the young bureautician, she moved off down the corridor, aware in the back of her mind that Cuyler was standing in his doorway, watching them with a suddenly cold and unfriendly stare.
“Why don’t we use my work station?” Gueron suggested. “Since I’m the only IM Spec on the Dreamer, it’s usually unmanned when I’m off duty, unless the ship’s librarian or the archivist need the main console for some reason. We can talk privately there.”
The faint accent on “privately” sent an unfamiliar thrill down Athena’s spine. Instinctively, she knew there was some danger involved, but again, she shrugged it off. Certainly, if she could handle Starbuck, she could handle this glorified computer technician, she told herself, maintaining her smile, which was getting less forced all the time. “That sounds fine. I suppose you’re pretty crowded here otherwise?”
“No worse than a lot of freighters, and certainly better than the smaller ships, like the buses, they’re almost tearful badly overcrowded. But my quarters are cramped, and the rec area is the public. I think privacy is of the utmost importance here, wouldn’t you agree?”
He slid open a door off the main corridor, and pressed a control turning on half the lighting in the small room. It was a typical IMR Center, filled with computer equipment, several public access terminals, an information processing unit, and a disc-printer. Gueron pointed her toward the main console, and she swept in ahead of him.
He stood for a minute in the doorway, watching her, the lazy half smile on his face hiding his thought. So, commander, the battle is beginning. Do you really think I’m going to vote for this old trick? I agree, she’s quite attractive, but I not going to be distracted or sidetracked some carefully choreographed political romance.
None of his anger showed on his face; yahrens of practice had perfected his self-control. Finally, he closed the door and pushed the autolock. Smiling again, he moved to another chair. “Now, Athena, what would you like to discuss with me – – or rather, what did your father send you here to discuss?”
Omega, as it turned out, had been a little lax in his briefing; but then, as a man, he’d probably never been hit with the full force of Gueron’s charm. Athena found herself sidetracked into personal conversation so often that she almost forgot her purpose. Every time she tried to steer the conversation back to basics – a meeting between Gueron and Adama, for instance – Gueron would listen politely, make some brief comments about the honor of the request, or about the possible danger of leaving the Dreamer, then begin again with the personal questions.
Athena was inexperienced at this; Starbuck had been open and aboveboard, compared with Gueron’s easy and charming subtlety. His manner was personal and mostly possessive, and she responded to it almost unconsciously, her pride leading the way. A little voice in her head kept repeating that this man found her attractive, very attractive, and she was positive that he wouldn’t chase after ex-socialators. After all, he was half-Gemonese, and that, she assumed, gave him partial immunity.
She eventually became so absorbed in his line of conversation that she completely lost track of her own. He was so easy to talk to, almost like an intimate friend, even though she had just met him. When at last she noticed the time, it was a shock. Shuttle between ships were kept to a minimum, and were strictly scheduled, to conserve fuel, and she had missed the last shuttle back to the Galactica.
Gueron laughed at her chagrin, saying, “Don’t worry about it. You can contact the Galactica from the bridge. I’m sure Cuyler will permit it, under this circumstances, and you can arrange for a special flight to pick you up. Commander Adama wouldn’t want his daughter to be stranded; he’ll make exception, I’m sure.”
“No, I can’t ask that; fuel’s too precious, and besides, that would draw attention to the importance of my visit here.” Athena was too distracted to see the triumphant gleam in Gueron’s eyes. “I would like to contact the Galactica, though, to explain to Father that I’ll be taking first shuttle on the next schedule. I can sleep in your life center, if there’s room.”
“I’m sure we can do better than that. Come on, let’s go to the bridge and let you call your father. He may be worried when you don’t arrive on time. At least we’ll have more time to discuss the matter at hand; surely that will console him.”
Actually, it wasn’t Adama who did the most worrying. Sheba had taken over a shuttle flight to give a friend a welcome break, and Starbuck met her she came back. “What do you mean, where’s Athena? Isn’t she on duty?”
“She’s on special assignment, over on the Dawn dreamer, something about that Wyatt, I guess. She was due back on this shuttle,” Starbuck replied.
“Why Athena? I thought Omega had that assignment.”
“I don’t know exactly. The commander’s being a little close-mouthed about the whole thing. I think it has something to do with the political agitator the security guards tried to pin the blame on. Some INS named Gueron. He’s supposed to be pretty popular with the regular citizens in the fleet. I wonder what happened to Athena.”
Sheba was startled when she heard Gueron’s name. “Are you sure about the name, Starbuck? Gueron? Half-Gemonese, half-Tauran?” At Starbucks statement that he believed that was the man, she controlled herself with an effort and said briskly, “I wouldn’t worry, Starbuck. You know bureauticians; she’s probably getting her ears talked off.” They started down the Galactica’s corridors. “All the same, I think I’ll go ask Adama; maybe he knows if she was really delayed, or if it was supposed to take this long. You go on ahead to Life Center and say hello to Apollo to Boxey for me. I’ll look in later.”
Sheba took off down another corridor. Starbuck shook his head, then head for Life Center, where Apollo was helping the doctor with his feverish son. Boxey was unwilling to stay in bed, but too sick to be allowed up. At least Cassiopeia would be there, and just about at the end of her shift. Starbuck brightened. It was going to be hard enough apologizing to Athena for their last argument; he wasn’t reluctant to delay it.
Sheba went directly to Commander Adama’s office. Adama considered her a member of the family, ever since the death or disappearance of her father, the legendary Warrior-leader Cain; she gained entrance right away. “Starbuck says you went sent Athena over to talk to Gueron. Is he right? Commander, if he is, you’ve got to recall her right away. Let me take the shuttle back and pick her up right now.”
“What’s the problem? I was hoping Athena’s mission would be a secret for at least a little while. Still, I assure you, Athena is perfectly capable of handling the job I sent her to do. All she has to do is talk to the young man, see where he stands on things, maybe get him to come here for a meeting. I’m sure there’s a perfectly good reason for missing the shuttle.”
Sheba steeled herself to tell him. “Look, commander, I know Gueron. He hates warriors. More to the point, he hates warrior daughters of warriors. He was… my first serious romance, right after I got out of the Academy. I had a port assignment, back home. Gueron was there, working at the same port, in the IMR Center. We fell in love, and he wanted to seal the relationship. So, as soon as Father was back in port, we went to see him about it.
“It was terrible. Gueron has never served as a warrior. He had some kind of deferment – I never did find out exactly what kind – and that made Father suspicious. He kept insisting that Gueron tell him why he never served, and Gueron kept saying it was personal, and he chose not to discuss it. Father kept on attacking; you know how he could be. Pretty soon, Gueron was backed into a corner. All Father wanted was for him to fight back, but he didn’t or maybe he couldn’t; I don’t know. I just know that he left and refused to see me again. Father decided he was a coward and ordered me to stay away from him.
“I didn’t, of course. I had to give it one more try. Gueron was so bitter, I didn’t know how to handle it, and when I refused to go through with the sealing without Father’s approval, he told me to leave and never come back. He said I was… more in love with my father than with him... and he didn’t want to marry some Warrior’s spoiled little girl.
“I told him Father would change his mind eventually, if he saw we were serious, but Gueron just said he didn’t think I was serious enough, and even if I was, I wasn’t worth putting up with Commander Cain.
“He transferred out not too long after, and I never saw him again. But I did hear a few things, before I left aboard the Pegasus with Father. He’d turned against all warriors, started campaigning against giving us any kind of special privileges at all. You know the line; you’ve probably heard it all before. Anyway, he’s bound to think the worst of you for sending Athena, and he’ll strike out at her; I know he will. You’ve got to call her back!”
“You think he’ll attack her?” Adama’s brow wrinkled up in a frown.
“No, nothing like that, but… Commander, do you think Starbuck is charming? Well, believe me, Gueron is capable of making the great Starbuck look like a tongue-tied schoolboy. He’ll twist Athena like Starbuck has never dreamed of doing, and she won’t have any defense. Please, let me get her. We can see we are worried because she was overdue.”
They were interrupted by a signal from the bridge. “Commander, we’ve had a confidential message from the Dawn Dreamer, from Athena. Quote: Talks proceeding well. Will return to Galactica when next shuttle trip starts. Captain Cuyler is finding me quarters for the night. End Quote. Is there a reply, Commander?”
“I… No, there is no reply, except that I eagerly await her report.” Adama turned back to Sheba. “It’s too late now. I asked Athena to take this assignment because she begged for more responsibility. If I order her back now, I could hurt her far more than Gueron could. I have to trust her judgment and Gueron’s common sense; right now he needs my support, not my approbation for mistreating my daughter and personal representative. Also, since the entire fleet apparently knows she’s over there, my recalling her would cause a near scandal. I don’t think one night is going to make a great deal of difference. Now, shall we go visit Boxey?”
Sheba reluctantly agreed, and accompanied him from the office.
Gueron’s quarters on the Dawn Dreamer indeed cramped, but they were almost painfully neat. Athena studied the few personal possessions with fixed interest, then noticed that Gueron was being very quiet. She turned to find him leaning nonchalantly against the bulkhead, watching her.
“Well, where are my guest quarters?” she asked, trying to keep her voice as light as his had been all day, and not entirely succeeding. The little voice in her head was laughing at her; she’d known all along what Gueron intended.
“Actually, I thought you could stay here.”
The reply came just as she expected. The little voice stopped laughing as she went into his arms, her mouth instinctively seeking his. A Viper blast went off in her head, and the little voice disappeared.
“Father, he’s agreed to meet with you, but it has to be with you, and you alone. He doesn’t trust the other counselors, and I must admit his arguments make a lot of sense. Also, Cuyler doesn’t want to leave the dreamer; he’s safe there, and there’s no telling what Laris might try, to keep him from going back if he leaves. I promised him you go there to meet with him, as soon as it could be arranged.”
Athena was making her official report and Adama’s office. He had to admit she looked spectacular, not at all like someone who had just spent the night in the life Center of an old freighter. He also had to admit Gueron’s arguments did make some sense. This way, he could meet with both Cuyler and Gueron at the same time, or at least consecutively, and perhaps do a little public relations work as well; he didn’t often get to many of the other ships in the fleet.
Yes, the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. “Make all the arrangements. You can shuttle me over, since you done all the groundwork; he may even prefer your being there, since you apparently got along quite well.” Adama silenced that part of himself that was father instead of commander, that said there was something wrong with Athena and her sudden almost warship of a new appointments. Anything to get her mind off Starbuck, he told himself, trying not to think about she was warnings.
Athena was uncharacteristically excited and jumping in the shuttle over to the Dawn Dreamer. Adama, lost in his own thoughts about the coming meeting, hardly noticed. Her flying ones, as usual, impeccable, and the landing was smooth and professional. Cuyler himself met them, with the risk, impersonal smile.
Gueron was also there; his eyes met the theaters in icy, unfriendly glare that made her flinch. “Your daughter is far better at persuading you that I thought she would be,” he said flatly, without a hint of the previous day’s charm. “But then, she knows you. I’m a stranger.” He put an emphasis on stranger that drew a sharp an uneasy look from Cuyler.
There were undercurrents here that Adama could not identify, making him uneasy as well, recalling Sheba’s warning. He hates warriors. “At any rate, Gueron, I am here, and as long as I am, I think we have serious matters to discuss.” Adama deliberately kept his voice neutral, despite the growing icy discomfort in his stomach.
Athena had gone still and white; when he turned to her, she forced a sickly smile and said, too brightly, that she would wait in the shuttle, since she was not, after all, a bureautician.
Gueron turned a chilly smile on her. “Yes, I would agree with her on that. If you’ll just follow me, Commander Adama... Cuyler, we’ll be in the IMR center if anyone needs to reach the commander.”
Suddenly anxious to get the interview over with, Adama squeezed Athena’s hand warmly, and followed Gueron down the corridor.
“Don’t be too hasty to judge him...” Cuyler started to say, but Athena interrupted him, anger burning in her throat.
“Why not, Captain? I think I’ve earned the right to judge him if I choose. I’ll be in the shuttle.” She turned sharply away and returned to the cockpit, anger beginning to give way to hurt and shame.
“Thanks for the lesson, Gueron. Never again! Not by Starbuck, not by you, you lousy slimy computech. No one hurts me like that again!” She leaned forward, cradled her head in her arms, and began to cry.
Gueron said nothing during the walk to his workstation, obviously mindful of the curious bystanders they passed in the corridors, but, as Adama preceded him into the Center, the words almost exploded from him, cold and angry, bitter and sarcastic. “What did you take me for, Commander? A complete idiot, ready to let a pretty face distract and prejudice me? That’s quite an insult. It’s also one of the oldest tricks in political history.”
Adama turned slowly to face him. “I’m not sure I understand you.”
“You’re going to deny it? Deny sending her here deliberately, as a ruler and a distraction? Come on, commander, you’re a warrior first and last, and you think like one. Put your enemy off guard; make him fall into a trap. Easy, only I didn’t fall. I saw through it, and used it. So now you want to deny setting the trap in the first place. Typical!”
Adama was stunned by the hatred and Gueron’s voice. He was about to ask whether Gueron was really his enemy when the full implication of the accusation sank in. “You mean... You actually think I would send her...”
His voice trailed off, and he thought of Ila, and how they had met. He’d been sent to her, by a worried superior officer, exactly as Gueron was saying he, Adama, had sent Athena here. He remembered what he’d been thinking about when Athena first asked him for more responsibility, and suddenly burst out laughing.
Gueron stared at him, puzzled by the sudden change in mood.
Adama choked, “You could just be right, Gueron, but I swear to you, I didn’t set this trap consciously.” He went on to explain how he met his wife, and how, of late, he frequently been overcome with memories of her.
At first, Gueron just stood there, apparently not sure how to react, but finally, in response to Adama’s friendly demeanor, he relaxed. “You’re going to have to be more careful, commander – – unwittingly setting traps for yourself to get caught in.”
A thought struck him, and he turned away, fighting to control himself. Anything Adama might say if he knew everything that had happened was rapidly becoming unimportant next to a more vital point, what had he done to Athena? She hadn’t consciously been bait, and so she ended up a victim. With a desperate effort, he regained control and sat down, facing Adama again. Although the atmosphere was still a little awkward, both been felt an easing of hostility.
A message came through on Gueron’s main console, and he turned to respond to it. “Excuse me a moment, commander. I have to put this terminal out of service or we’ll be too often.”
Adama watched carefully as the younger man punched out a return message on his screen – – at least, here was the answer to how these people communicate with one another!
When Gueron finished transmitting, and noticed that half grin on Adama’s face, he knew immediately what it meant.” Yeah, we use the IM terminals to talk shipped to ship, but usually it’s only for IMR business, like request not too long ago for a copy of a children’s book. We’re still looking for that one, by the way.
“Now, about me meeting with the Council. I’m afraid it’s out of the question. For one thing I think the counsel is outdated and obsolete; that idiotic form of government got us into this mess in the first place. Besides, it’s totally an adequate for current situation. We’re a group of people from 12 extinct worlds, a collection of separate communities, housing metal worlds, each independent of the others went down to each other by necessity. We need a government that represents us as we are, not as we were!
“But it takes time to set up a new government. What do you suggest we use?” Adama started to argue, grimacing a bit to himself as he did. He was going to find it very difficult to play advocate for a form of government he himself was not too sure of...
When the two men finally emerged from the IMR center, they found Cuyler and Trista, his pregnant wife, Winnie anxiously outside. “I was beginning to think I’d have to break in you weren’t supposed to rebuild the universe single-handedly, you know. What took so long?” Cuyler asked.
“We... managed to find some middle ground, Capt.,” Adama answered.
Gueron barely suppressed a laugh. “I guess that’s one way of putting it, commander.”
Gueron was very much at ease with Adama, much to Cuyler’s relief. He knew his friend’s temper. He had heard of Adama’s obstinacy, and was sure the two would finish their “discussion” as die-hard enemies. It was a definite pleasure to find that at least cautiously at ease with each other.
“I hope Athena managed to occupy herself while I was busy,” Adama said to Cuyler as the four moved off toward the shuttle bay.
“She didn’t leave the shuttle, commander. Still, I saw to it that Emile was delivered to her, interest that kept her company for a while,” Cuyler answered, with a worried glance at Gueron, who shrugged helplessly out of Adama’s view. If the commander was aware of any tension, he didn’t show it, seemingly satisfied that Athena hadn’t missed her meal because of his highly interesting debate.
They parted at the entrance to the bay, with Athena watching stiffly from the shuttle. This time, Gueron couldn’t meet her gaze, and he seemed a little pale. He forced himself to stand straight, meet Adama’s eyes, and shake hands, paying attention to the Commander’s assurances that he would bring all they had discussed to the Council for debate and consideration. The IM specialist had little doubt that the Council would either ignore or simply discard his ideas, regardless of how they were presented, but it was encouraging to have Adama at least partially on his side.
“Frak!” he swore to himself, cursing once again that part of his Gemonese heritage that had cost him any chance of becoming a Colonial Warrior.
Later that day, back aboard the Galactica, Adama made a point of searching out Sheba. “I did learn why Gueron was ineligible for Warrior service,” he explained. “He suffers from some nervous disorder, minor, but enough to automatically bar him from Warrior duty.”
“Why wouldn’t he tell Father? He would have understood; I know he would have, and then all of this could have been avoided.” Sheba hadn’t missed the lackluster look in Athena’s eyes, and the slump of her usually straight shoulders; she was convinced something more had happened than her friend was claiming.
“I understand that the illness is sometimes hereditary. Perhaps he was afraid Cain would have forbidden the match on those grounds. At any rate, he isn’t quite the enemy you feared he would be. Now, you are having dinner with us, I hope?”
Although Athena’s visit to the Dreamer could be explained away, Adama’s, so soon afterward, could not. The Council had heard about both visits, and called an immediate meeting to discuss the results. Laris, in particular, was angered by Adama’s “presumption”; his protests were only silenced by the reminder from Tinia that he was the one who wanted something done about the Dreamer.
Actually, Adama had a better reception than he’d expected, with several Councilors showing great interest in Gueron’s protests about unfair representation under the current patterns of life in the fleet, and especially the idea that some people weren’t represented at all, because their bloodlines were mixed, and they weren’t listed on the voting rolls of any one single world.
Nothing was decided, of course; Adama didn’t expect it to be quite that easy. About the only thing the meeting did accomplish was to end Laris’ demands about arresting Gueron; Adama was able to persuade the Council that the young man was not advocating violent action against the fleet.
What the Commander didn’t realize was that this put Gueron’s life, and Cuyler’s as well, in considerable danger. Shortly after the Council meeting, Laris met with a thin, hard-looking man who had just recently been released from the Prison Barge. Upon Laris’ assurances that he would never come to trial, the man agreed, for a rather large sum of money, to kill Gueron and Cuyler.
The day after his meeting with Gueron, Adama received a small package from the Dreamer, with a rather cryptic message. The package contained a copy-disc of a children’s book entitled Sharky Star-Rover, something Adama had searched for in vain not too long back; the message stated, “We finally tracked one down for you. I hope this will suffice as an apology for any pain or inconvenience I have caused you or any member of your family.” It was signed, “Gueron, Dawn Dreamer.”
Athena refused to remark on either the gift or the message that accompanied it, although she seemed a little upset. Adama was left with a small mystery, and the perfect story to keep his grandson quietly in bed, for at least a little while.
Athena’s return to the Dawn Dreamer was noticed by the monitor in the rec area even though she didn’t announce herself, so her appearance at the door to the IMR Center was no surprise to Gueron. All the same, he seemed wary and nervous. He was busy at his terminal, and at first pretended not to notice that Athena had pressed the auto-lock. Finally, when she didn’t say anything, he punched out a TERMINATE PROGRAM message and turned his chair to face her.
Athena noticed that he was clasping the chair arms tightly with both hands, and she remembered Cassiopeia’s description of his ailment. “Gemonese plasy causes uncontrollable shaking in the fingers of both hands when the sufferer is under stress.” She felt a shiver of satisfaction in the idea that Gueron found this meeting stressful.
“Why? No political double-talk either, Gueron. I think I deserve more than that.”
“I agree. I… I’m sorry, Athena. I thought, well, I thought you were sent here as a deliberate lure, as bait for some elaborate trap set by your father and the Council. I persuaded myself that since everyone knows of your friendship with the famous – or should I say infamous – Starbuck, you weren’t… I wouldn’t be the first. I was wrong on both counts, and I am truly sorry. I don’t think I’ve ever felt quite as small and wormy as I do right now. I know there’s not really anything I can do that will take everything back. All I can do is apologize.”
Gueron was as humble as his proud nature would allow; Athena, angry and hurt as she was, could sense that. She’d expected some arrogant comeback, something about how she hadn’t seemed to mind it at the time, and about getting what she asked for. She sat down gingerly on the edge of a chair, and for a while, the Center was overwhelmingly quiet.
Then the disc-printer started chattering. Gueron turned to see what was copying, and seemed pleased about it. He started to explain. “We’re cooperating with Program Reunite. It’s an attempt by various people in the fleet to track down records of dispersed branches of their families, to see if they have surviving relatives they never knew about. There’s been this one young man in particular, who’s been very anxious to learn about his father’s sister, who married against her family’s wishes, then left the home world. Well, we’ve found that he has three cousins in the fleet. That’s the kind of report I like sending out. Just let me conclude this message, and I’ll be with you.” Gueron busied himself with the terminal, too absorbed to notice Athena’s avid interest in his actions.
“Have you been able to reconstruct many family trees through Program Reunited?” she asked when he finished and logged off.
“A few. Not as many as we’d like, but we’re always getting more input. The word’s getting around, and a lot of civilians are going to their ships’ IMR Centers to have their genealogies recorded, so there’s always a chance we could get some important links we didn’t have earlier. It’s one of the more interesting parts of my job. I do like it, by the way; it has its own unique challenges, and more and more people are finding that the proper management and storage of knowledge is important to the survival of our people.”
The door signal sounded, and Gueron released the lock. The ship’s archivist, a plain young man with a slight limp, needed the main console.
“Look, Athena, my regular shift is up. I’m logged off, and I’ve spent enough time here for one day. Let’s walk around a bit, let you see how my people live. Maybe you’ll understand more then.”
The Dreamer’s population turned out to be from several different worlds. Cuyler had apparently made every possible stop during the evacuation, picking up as many fugitives as he could before making rendezvous with the Galactica.
“It makes getting a complete voters’ roll difficult. I can’t vote, by the way; neither can Cuyler. I was disqualified from the Gemonese roll because my mother was Tauran, and I was disqualified from the Tauran roll because I lived more of my adult life before the Destruction on either Gemon or Libra. Those decisions are usually left up to the Councilors of each individual world, and if the Councilor doesn’t like you, you could find yourself ineligible to vote. Trista is listed on the Tauran roll; there’s no way she could be disqualified, but Cuyler is in the same situation I am. There’s no real representation of the whole fleet.”
The rec area was almost Spartan compared to the luxury of the Rising Star, where Starbuck occasionally took her when he was in the mood – and the cubits – but Cuyler had seen to it that a wide variety of activities were provided. The second shift was a busy time, and the area was crowded. Athena was impressed by the number of people her escort knew by name, and the obvious respect and admiration they accorded him. She was also human enough, and feminine enough, to preen just a little when several other women glanced enviously at her. Gueron was obviously considered a “catch” by the women in this part of the fleet.
They continued on, through the “living space” portion of the freighter. Cuyler’s engineers and technicians had made practical changes in the ship’s interior, permitting each family a relatively comfortable “home.” Each separate cabin was divided into two, or in some cases three, cubicles, which the inhabitants could decorate as they chose. The quarters were still very plain, but the whole area had a homey atmosphere that Athena found very appealing.
The corridor-streets were places for people to meet and exchange gossip, rather like the old marketplaces Athena remembered on Caprica, her own home world. There were several open areas for children to play in; Trista was holding class in one of them, and gave a cheery wave when Gueron called out a welcome.
“You see, these people aren’t bothered by hardship; their lives were never all that easy before. They’re used to doing without, used to making do with what they have, used to struggling to survive in crowded living space. Cuyler’s tried to create an environment for them that’s at least as close as possible to their old homes, and as a result, they’ve adapted quite well to living in space. They’re only bothered by the idea that there are some people in the fleet who have profited from their struggles, who are continuing to profit.” Bitterness tinged his voice as he continued. “Did you know that several ship-owners, including one Councilor, refused to permit refugees to board their ships unless they paid a fee? That’s one of the reasons Cuyler started Operation Independence; the ship-owners were assuming power over free people, power they have no right to claim, regardless of their deeds and papers.”
“I had heard of that happening, yes. Starbuck was accused of a killing not too long ago, and it turned out that the motive of the real killer was something like that. I think Father’s been investigating the situation with an eye to charging people.”
Gueron shrugged; he had no faith in the commander’s ability to bring those people to trial, even though he now believed Adama wanted to.
Life Center, where everyone assumed Athena had spent her one night on the Dreamer, was an almost cheerful place, with decoration, and a separate area for children, complete with toys and viewscreens. Only the seriously ill were kept apart, in screened-off cubicles.
Gueron slipped into one of these, and Athena followed, to meet a solemn-faced child, a very thin girl perhaps a yahren or two older than Boxey. The child put up her arms for a hug, and Gueron gave it cheerfully. Still she didn’t smile, and made no sound whatsoever.
“This is the Princess. That’s what we call her, since she wants to keep her name a secret. Princess, this is Athena; she’s a new friend.”
A pair of quiet, pain-filled brown eyes regarded Athena briefly. Athena greeted the little girl as cheerfully as she could, but got no response. The Princess was playing with a battered doll, and seemed willing to continue in that occupation. Gueron sat on the edge of the bed, and tried to draw her out, but even the full weight of his considerable charm had no apparent effect. Finally, he kissed the child lightly on the forehead and rose to leave.
On impulse, Athena did the same, and then asked if she could kiss the doll. The Princess studied her quizzically for a centon, and then turned the doll’s face upwards. Athena gently kissed the battered, dirty doll, trying to block out the sight of tell-tale, reddish brown stains. She rose again, and smiled at the child; a single tear slid down the little girl’s thin cheek. “May I visit you and your friend again sometime, Princess? I really enjoyed meeting you.” The child went back to her doll, and Athena followed Gueron out of the cubicle.
“You handled that very well, Athena,” Gueron admired. “At least you got a response; not everyone can.” He sighed. “We found her during one of the last battles on Libra, in the ruins of a house. No one has ever come forward to claim her, and since she won’t talk to us, we don’t know her name, or her family, or anything. She’s suffering from some kind of radiation burn; she’s really very sick, and probably in a lot of pain, but she won’t say a word, never cries or anything, just plays with that doll. Once, desperate to get a response, a med tech took the doll away, but she didn’t scream or respond in any way, just laid down and stared at the ceiling. The same thing happened when someone tried to give her a new doll; she dropped it on the floor, and went back to staring at the ceiling. It’s really sad.”
Trying not to cry, Athena asked, “Will she live?”
Gueron shrugged. “Maybe. She’s made it this far, but with her physical and emotional problems, who knows? We have some excellent medical people, but none of our ships, not even the Galactica, has anywhere near the facilities of a homeworld hospital.”
“Visiting the Princess?” Cuyler and Trista came up behind them. After Gueron confirmed where they had been, Cuyler asked to speak with him privately. Trista took Athena’s arm.
“Why don’t we leave them to their discussion, since it’s obvious they don’t want us around. I’ve wanted to talk to you anyway, ever since our aborted conversation in your father’s shuttle.”
The two women started down the corridor. Trista seemed to know just where she was going, despite her handicap. “I was serious about talking to you, you know. That wasn’t just for Gueron’s benefit. I wanted to tell you a little about him, so you won’t misjudge him.”
“I already knew a little. Sheba, one of my friends, knew him a long time ago.”
“Ah, yes, Commander Cain’s daughter. But I doubt she knows anything about his recent past. He was married, did you know that? I never met her, but Cuyler’s seen pictures; he says she was very pretty, in a quiet way. They had to run away to get married; this was before doctors discovered than Gemonese palsy can’t be transmitted to children by parents with mixed blood, and the woman’s family feared her children would inherit the ailment. So there was no proper sealing ceremony, or anything like that. Another rejection, much like Commander Cain’s.
“Then, the Destruction. Gueron was on the Dreamer, not at home, when the attack started. By the time he got to the house, she was gone, leaving a message that she would leave the ship in port. It appeared that she never made it, at least at that time, but since then we’ve heard… rumors, I suppose you’d call them, no hard evidence… It’s… possible… that she did reach the port and was offered a place temporarily on another ship. The owner supposedly tried to convince her to become his mistress, and when she refused, she was killed. At least, that’s the story; Gueron claims he won’t believe it until he sees proof, but I wonder about that sometimes. It certainly wouldn’t surprise me if it were true, you know; some of the ship owners are like that.”
“So I’ve heard.” Athena felt she had to respond somehow, though her mind felt numb. So that was why Gueron was so bitter toward ship owners; even if he tried not to believe the rumors, it had to bother him; the possibility that his wife may have fallen victim, not to the Cylons, but to a member of her own species.
“Then I assume your father and the rest of the almighty Council have also heard, but they don’t seem too willing to do anything about it. Cuyler waited a long time for official action, and finally, when it didn’t come and didn’t come, he was forced to take action on his own. That’s when Operation Independence was born: the movement to declare all ships free of ownership. We do have legal precedent, after all, firm legal grounds.”
“You do?” Athena had to agree with Omega; Trista was certainly as political as her husband.
“Yes, of course. We didn’t just dream this up like a children’s game. One of our oldest laws has been that no one individual can own an entire community. What is a ship in this fleet if not a community? A community separate from other communities, certainly worth and capable of ruling itself just as a planet-bound community would.”
“Ah, listen to her. My wife, the bureautician.” Cuyler and Gueron had rejoined them, just in front of the entrance to the rec area; the crowds had thinned out a little. “Be careful, Athena. It’s a contagious disease. I was as political as a daggit until I met these two. Watch it, or you’ll wind up just like us.”
In the round of laughter that followed, none of the quartet really noticed a thin man who detached himself slightly from the line of people waiting for the shuttle and raised his arm just a little. Just as he was about to fire, the line moved, and he was jostled. The shots went wild, striking not Gueron, his first target, but Athena, who fell back into the corridor. Another bolt struck Cuyler, but only a glancing blow; he staggered, clutching his forearm. The would-be assassin tried to run into the shuttle, but was prevented by the angry crowd.
For Athena, it was like a nightmare. Nothing was happening to her; it was happening to someone she was watching. She could hear angry voices all around her, shouting and crying, but she couldn’t make out any words. A woman next to her was calling for medical help, and Athena knew someone was holding her.
It was a strain to keep her eyes open, and she decided that as long as she was sleeping anyway – this was a nightmare, wasn’t it? – she could close them.
The nightmare ended, and she slept.
A familiar voice woke her. She cautiously opened her eyes, to find herself in the Dreamer’s Life Center. Adama and Apollo were standing next to her. Her father smiled, and asked how she felt.
“All right, I guess. A little sleepy, that’s all.” She tried to sit up, but the movement hurt her head. “Ooh, I guess that’s not all.”
“Do you remember what happened?” Apollo asked.
“I think so, but it’s hazy. There was this man; at least, I think there was, and he shot me. I think he shot Cuyler, too. Did he?”
“Cuyler’s not very badly hurt. He’ll be fit for duty again tomorrow. Do you remember well enough to give corroborating testimony at the tribunal?” Adama inquired.
“I’m not sure. Like I said, it’s all hazy. Did they catch him?”
“Cuyler’s people grabbed him right after the shooting. Now all we have to do is figure out why he did it. Rather than face a mutiny, I’ve allowed Cuyler to hold the man here, instead of removing him to the Galactica or the Prison Barge for tribunal. He knows all about the grid-barge; he just got off it. He let slip to one of the guards that once he returned to the Galactica, he’d disappear without a trace. No one wants that to happen, and Cuyler has a pretty good security set-up here, so I’ll just let him handle things. There’s little question of the man’s guilt, not with so many witnesses. Either he’s crazy, or someone promised he’d be taken care of. I tend to think it’s the latter, and I want to know who that someone is.”
“The guard reported that he seemed very surprised that the witnesses were able to hold him,” Apollo added. “He told the guard that he’d been informed there were no Warriors on the Dreamer, just a bunch of common, lower-class citizens, nothing for a professional to worry about.”
A med tech came up then, and suggested that Athena would like some more sleep, in a tone of voice that said it wasn’t just a suggestion. The two men left, and Athena settled back to sleep again, surprised at how good it felt.
Once the assassin found out that he wasn’t going to be sent back to the Galactica for tribunal, that he’d be staying aboard the Dreamer, where his employers couldn’t reach him, it didn’t take him long to tell the investigators everything. When Adama got the word, he called for a special session of the Council.
Unsuspecting, Laris came with the rest, to be met by an escort of regular Warriors. Adama read the would-be killer’s confession to a stunned Council. Although a little blind at times, and somewhat self-serving, even the worst of the other Councilors had never seriously contemplated murder, and they were quick to condemn Laris. The meeting ended with a call for a new election of a Gemonese representative.
Laris and Uri were brought to tribunal with the assassin. Unfortunately, since Uri hadn’t participated in the actual negotiation and hiring, he was found guilty of only being an accessory; his fine was a mere pittance, for a man as wealthy as Uri.
Laris was another story. He was found guilty of attempted murder, conspiracy, extortion, and murder by neglect, the last two for his treatment of refugees during the post-Destruction evacuation. He was convicted as a result of evidence and testimony uncovered by the mysterious Cathal and presented by Tinia. Setting a precedent that would eventually reach across the fleet, all of Laris’ ships were confirmed in their independence; all that was required was that their captains swear an oath of allegiance to the fleet, and provide evidence that they were setting up “advisory committees” through which the citizens aboard the ships would govern themselves in all except military matters. Also, Laris’ art collection, which contained items probably looted from museums and galleries during the evacuation, was turned over to the Council, which planned to set up a public museum. Laris himself went to the Prison Barge to serve a long sentence.
As it turned out, Athena’s testimony wasn’t needed at the tribunal. Gueron and Cuyler were called on, but the most valuable testimony was provided by the people waiting in line to board the shuttle. Most people in the fleet were left wondering about the utter stupidity of the would-be murderer – or was it the utter arrogance of his employer, believing he could prevent the tribunal from ever being held?
Also, Adama finally persuaded Gueron to address the Council about the common grievances of the fleet, especially about the disenfranchisement of mixed-blood citizens. This was a somewhat subdued Council, upset that one of their number had been as guilty as Laris, and that they had been taken in a second time. After Uri and the Carillon incident, they had all declared they would never again be fooled that way; now, Laris had shown them how easy it was. The Council was given countless depositions counted by Tinia, Omega, and Gueron, showing how many of the fleet’s citizens held Gueron’s beliefs. After a stirring speech by Adama and another by Gueron, followed by a lengthy debate, the Council reached a momentous decision; the captains of the fleet were all invited to the Galactica to personally hear the decision, which was to be broadcast to every ship.
Siress Tinia read the decision. “We, your elected representatives on the Council of Twelve, have heard your grievances, and find many of them valid. However, we believe that change must come slowly, or chaos will result. Our race has been ruled by a Council like this one for generations, and we believe that it still has a valid reason for existence.
“However, we now live under most extraordinary circumstances which call for changes in our lifestyles and in our government. The Council needs assistance to rule wisely and well. We call for the election of an Assembly, consisting of one representative from each ship, or, in the case of the smaller ships, from each group of ships. This Assembly will have as its primary responsibility the determination of the needs of the common citizens of the fleet, and bringing those needs to the attention of the Council, so that we may make adequate laws and regulations to meet them. Assembly members may present proposals for such laws to the Council, and these proposals may not be simply brushed aside. A vote must be taken in the Council. Also, a two-thirds vote of the Assembly will conditionally veto any law brought through the Council. Therefore, the one group will serve as a check on the other.
“To ensure that the election of the Assembly will be as fair and as just as possible, we declared a Period of Enfranchisement. All citizens of mixed blood will be permitted to choose on which of their parents’ homeworlds they wish to be listed on the voting rolls. We realize that many of you believe these planetary designations to be obsolete, considering the conditions under which we now live; however, much if not all of our culture and history is bound up with our twelve homeworlds, and to deny them now would be to destroy for our descendants an essential heritage.
“We also realize that it will take some time to establish the Assembly, with its codes and rules of operation, and it is necessary to have someone immediately responsible for setting everything up, and to act as liaison between the Council and the new Assembly until the establishment is complete and secure. We, the Council of Twelve, are pleased to announce that Gueron, of the Dawn Dreamer, has been asked and has agreed to assume those duties.”
Immediately following the announcement of Gueron’s appointment, Adama was host to a large dinner party for the members of his family, Sheba, Starbuck, Boomer, Cassiopeia, Gueron, Tinia, Cuyler, and Trista. During a friendly political discussion, Trista pulled Athena aside. “I hope you won’t be offended, Athena, but Gueron told Cuyler and me all about that first night. He… well, we’re his closest friends, and he was really angry at himself, and very concerned about making it up to you. I know he’s more than just interested in you now, and I hope Cuyler and I are correct about your feelings for him.”
Taking a deep breath, Athena replied, “I’m in love with him. I think so, anyway. You see, I always thought that what I felt for Starbuck was love, but this isn’t much like that, so I’m not really sure.”
“Just as people are different, so are the emotions you will feel for them. Don’t degrade what you feel for Gueron because it’s not the same sensation you felt for Starbuck. I have to warn you, though: If you plan on waiting for Gueron to make the first move, you’ll be waiting forever. He’s plagued not only by the memory of your first meeting, but by the treatment he received from Cain and from his wife’s family, and he’s just too afraid of repeating the experience. If you want him, you’ll have to go after him.”
Later, after dessert, Athena, remembering another dinner party which had ended in her brother’s proposal to Serina, looked across the table at Gueron, took a deep breath, and decided there was no time like the present. She stood up, and conversation ceased; all eyes turned toward her.
Her knees shaking, she rushed ahead, wanting to finish before her legs betrayed her and gave out. “I would like to ask our new Assembly chairman a question, if I may?”
Apollo’s eyebrows rose; this didn’t sound much like his sister. Trista stifled a giggle, and grabbed her husband’s hand. Adama nodded for Athena to proceed.
“I realize you’ve already apologized once, or actually twice, for a certain misunderstanding. However, I must reject those apologies for a more fitting one. When are you really going to make it up to me, and marry me?”
Gueron choked, and one hand flew up to cover his face. Trista and Cuyler burst out laughing, and even Sheba had to grin at her old beau’s shock. Starbuck looked quizzically at Athena, and Cassiopeia suddenly knew he’d never actually considered the possibility of losing Athena, even if he no longer wanted her.
Apollo chuckled softly. “I should have warned you about these dinner parties.”
“Well?” Athena stood straight. Feeling at a disadvantage looking up at her, Gueron rose to face her. She continued. “I have it on good authority that if I wait for you to make the first move I’ll be waiting forever. Well, I’ve had the waiting-forever business, and I’m not too thrilled with it. So, I’ve made my move; now, what’s yours? Do I start my sealing gown?”
The silence in the room was complete. Most of the guests were either exchanging glances with each other, or watching their plates, courteously avoiding looking at Gueron, whose hands were clasped tightly behind his back. Boxey was the only one looking at the prospective bridegroom, who was struggling to maintain his already shaky control.
Finally Gueron’s eyes met the child’s curious and amused gaze, and he smiled. “All right, yes. I… yes.” Unable to control himself any longer, he started laughing. “But I swear this is the last time I intend to match myself against a Warrior’s daughter. It’s too hard on the nerves!”
Epub files can be read on ereaders and computers using free software such as Calibre.
32 pages.
From his vantage point – a viewport in the Council Chamber – Commander Adama could see only a small portion of the fugitive fleet Fate had left him to command. Considering only the number of separate vessels, it was a large fleet, but there was a wide range of size, capacity, and space worthiness among those ships. In this strange collection – freighters of all sizes, space buses, a few military ships, passenger cruisers in a wide variety of styles and designs, mining survey ships, agro ships, even a prison grid barge – lived the hope of humankind in space. These were all the known survivors of the treacherous Cylon attack on the twelve human colonies. Led by Adama and one surviving battlestar, the Galactica, the fugitives dodged constant Cylon pursuit in the hope of finding the almost mythical thirteenth colony – Earth.
Just hold together, Adama prayed silently. We can survive, we can all make it, if we just hold on long enough. I know we’re heading in the right direction, and...
“Commander Adama, are you listening?” And irate voice broke into his reverie, forcing his attention back to the meeting of the Council of Twelve, the governing body of the fleet. Sire Laris, the young, powerful, and decidedly unpleasant representative of Gemon, was standing in his usual bullish pose, dominating the room.
“My apologies, Sire Laris. I plead wariness. Go on, about this riot aboard the Dawn Dreamer...”
Laris snorted in contempt, earning an angry glare from Siress Tinia, another counselor and a sometimes-ally of Adama. “For the benefit of our oh-so-tired and overburdened leader,” Laris said sarcastically, “I shall begin again.”
“There is no need, I assure you,” Adama replied quietly. “I was only distracted for a moment. You were accusing a certain Gueron of inciting a riot on this freighter.”
“Gueron is a hot headed and unfortunately popular young fool, and impossibly arrogant man who is, I think the Lords of Kobol, only half-Gemonese. Although only an Information Management Specialist, he assumes the manner of an elected official. He has always opposed our legally appointed Security Guards, who on this occasion were performing their rightful duties, monitoring the crowds of civilians from other ships who were permitted to use the Dawn Dreamer’s recreation area – a serious mistake on the part of her illegitimate captain. Gueron persuaded the civilians to turn on the Guards, and before the attack could be quelled, several guards and civilians were injured.
“I demand that Gueron, and Captain Cuyler, for good measure, be removed from the Dreamer, which, by the way, happens to belong to me despite Cuyler’s so-called declaration of independence, and be detained for trial on charges of assault and sedition against the fleet. Both of these men are dangerous to us all; Cuyler is the instigator of this crazy ‘Operation Independence’ movement, urging ships to turn against their legitimate owners, spurred on, no doubt, by Gueron. Arrest them both; I demand this as a right. The arrogance of these two is beyond belief, turning against our security guards, and telling us we no longer own that which is rightfully ours.”
Laris’ typically long-winded and convoluted demand was met by murmurs of assent from a few other counselors – all ship-owners, Adama noted cynically, who doubtless felt their power threatened.
“Have you facts to back up your claims, Laris?” Tinia began, only to fall silent at a familiar gesture from Adama.
“I have made note of Operation Independence,” Adama stated, “and it is being investigated as a possible – note the word possible – threat to the security of the fleet. As for the riot, the Galactica was duly informed of it, and I sent one of my best officers, Omega, to investigate it. Omega, would you please give us your report?” He gestured a quiet young man in the uniform insignia of a bridge officer, who had been waiting at the back of the chamber.
“I spoke to several witnesses, from several different ships, and to the Security Guards currently in Life Center, and I have to differ with Sire Laris’ conclusions, with all due respect to the Councilor. Gueron was not present in the recreation area when the disturbance began; he was on duty in the Information Management and Retrieval Center when the first blow was struck. When he did arrive, he was instrumental in halting the disturbance, rather than inciting it further.
“Also, the Security Guards themselves began the trouble, but attempting to remove a young woman from the recreation area without her consent, and by assaulting her escort when he objected. The Guards could give no valid reason for ordering her to leave with them, and her escort made no threatening action that could justify their attacks on him. The young man is a Colonial Warrior temporarily assigned to the Dreamer as a shuttle pilot; his condition is serious.” Omega paused and glanced at Adama, who nodded his approval to continue.
“I must also report that this is not the only disturbance I have investigated recently that was started by Security Guards going beyond their legal authority and jurisdiction, and the frequency of the disturbances is making ship captains all over the fleet very uneasy about the presence of Guards on their vessels. This includes several captains not allied to Operation Independence.”
“Not openly allied, anyway,” Laris muttered.
“Thank you, Officer Omega. I believe we have all the information we need from you at this time.” Tinia dismissed the bridge officer quickly, precluding any possible objections from Laris. “If we need you, we know where to contact you.”
Omega, relieved, disappeared quickly.
“I, too, have heard of these disturbances, from several sources, and I deplore them,” said the Picon Councilor, who was a little more objective than Laris, not being a ship-owner himself. “In this case, there is no justification for the arrest of Gueron, and I would prefer to hold off arresting Cuyler until we have definite evidence that he is plotting treason. Both men are decidedly popular; if we arrest them without grounds, we could encourage a real riot, and not just on one ship. I have no idea how these people are communicating with each other, since it is not through the recognized and monitored channels, but they assuredly do communicate. We must step carefully here.”
He looked around the table, waiting for comment from the others; when no one spoke, he continued, “I do encourage an investigation of these men, of course, but I think it best if it not be conducted by the Security Guards, whose recent behavior has all but destroyed their credibility. Adama, as military commander of this fleet, are you doing anything about this?”
“As I stated earlier, I have been setting up an investigation of Operation Independence. If Gueron is involved as deeply as we believe, the investigation will, of course, be expanded to include him. Discretion is my first priority here, to avoid any trouble from the more radical elements in the fleet. As a further point, I also recommend that we look into the Security Guard problem, and suspended those causing the trouble.”
The meeting was cut short by Sire Laris’ angry exit; he was followed by his allies on the Council. Shortly thereafter, Adama and Tinia were alone. “Are you really investigating the movement, Adama?”
“Quietly, yes. I must admit a certain sympathy for Cuyler’s aims; that why I’ve fought his removal from the captaincy of the Dawn Dreamer. He’s turned that ship into a fleet strong point, capable of defending herself and her neighbors quite ably. He’s young, intelligent, and a good leader. We need more like him, regardless of Laris’ complaints.”
“I know a little about Gueron, and I must’ve mixed a similar sympathy. I just wish he would take things a little slower, but then, I’m older, and we older theoreticians do tend to be more conservative. Does your investigation include any plans for meeting with him yourself?”
“Are you suggesting that I should?”
“I think you would find it interesting, yes. However, I would advise caution, and as much secrecy as possible, out of concern for Gueron’s safety, and Cuyler’s. I believe I may have told you about Cathal, who occasionally does some undercover investigating for me? Oh, yes, I know, you would prefer to meet the man face to face, but it is perhaps his secretiveness that allows him to be so effective. He believes that Laris and Uri, if they believe the threat great enough, might try to get both men off the Dreamer, and onto one of their own cruisers for trial, Council approval were not. Once they’ve been convicted, it would be very difficult, politically, for you or anyone else to upset the conviction. So we don’t want to back Laris into a corner; not yet, anyway.”
“Yes, I suppose there is such a danger. That’s the way those two would think. I’ll have to use an intermediary, to set up some kind of meeting. It’s a shame I had to have Omega report to the Council today; from now on, Laris will be suspicious of his presence anywhere but on the bridge. The meeting will have to be informal, without Council approval, or rather, official Council approval, of any kind.”
“If only we dared have Gueron meet with us formally. His political beliefs are highly original, and that’s something this Council could use. But even if it were perfectly safe, even if Laris could be persuaded not to do anything rash, I really don’t think Gueron would agree.”
Shortly after the Council meeting adjourned, Athena, Adama’s daughter, stormed down the Galactica’s corridors, heading for her father’s office. She brushed tears from her dark green eyes as she went, not caring who saw her. “That rat! That’s sneaking, conniving rat!” She muttered to herself. “When am I going to learn? ‘Things are just too unsure now for us to consider a meaningful commitment.’ Hah! I’ll bet things are too unsure. He doesn’t want to give anything up, least of all that Cassiopeia! Especially since she doesn’t have any of my ‘inhibitions,’ considering where she comes from; no need for an honest commitment, like little inhibited me! I’ll show that louse a thing or two! Please, Father, agree with me this time. Let me join the squadron, a regular fighting squadron, and I’ll have Starbuck looking up, I guarantee it!”
Before Adama’s office door, she pulled up, straightening her blue uniform and composing herself before asking permission to enter. When she went in, Adama was standing behind the desk, looking at a family portrait: Adama; her mother Ila, who had died on Caprica; her older brother Apollo, the fleet’s chief pilot; Athena herself; and her younger brother Zac, the first victim of the Cylon’s sneak attack on the peace mission. Adama had spent a lot of time lately thinking about Zac and their mother; Athena knew this, and she almost felt guilty bringing her problems to him. Man troubles were so insignificant when put beside the difficulties of holding this rag-tag fleet together against the combined efforts of the pursuing Cylons and the bickering Council.
Adama was daydreaming. It was yahrens ago, when he and Ila were still very young, only just sealed. She’d been something like Tinia, politically-minded and outspoken, almost disappointed when all three of their children chose to follow Adama in military careers instead of choosing politics like their mother.
Athena had to call him twice to bring him back to the present; he shook himself out of the daydream and turned to face her. It still amazed him that this feminine version of his own rough-iron looks was openly courted by several of the most eligible bachelors in the fleet, including the dashing Starbuck. “Yes, Athena? Problems?”
“Not really, Father. It was just an excuse to see you.”
“You don’t need an excuse, you know that. Now, Athena, don’t put it off. I’m as much your father as I’ve ever been, and that includes discussing problems. Let me guess. It’s Starbuck again, isn’t it?”
“You’re telepathic, Father, did you know that?” Athena embraced him. “Yes, it’s Starbuck. I keep trying to tell myself that I don’t care about him, and he’s free to see anyone he chooses, but I guess I still... I don’t know. Sometimes, I hate him. And I wish I could hate Cassiopeia... I was gaining on him until she came along.”
“Now, don’t blame Cassiopeia – at least, not for the flaws in Starbucks nature. He’s just not ready yet. You may have to give him a lot of time. Tell me, what can I do to cheer you up?”
“You should know; I’ve asked you often enough. I’m good pilot, even Apollo says so; that’s one thing I’m good at that Starbuck respects. Please, let me join a fighting squadron. I feel… well, wasted, as a systems analyst.”
“It’s an important job, Athena, and you’re very good at it. I need you there right now, more than I need another pilot. The fleet academy is turning out more pilots all the time.”
“As you said yourself, these are cadets – cadets flying makeshift Vipers built in the foundry ships! I’m already past that, I’ve flown in combat. Please, let me fly!” Athena turned toward the viewport, through which, at that point, only the luxury liner Rising Star could be seen. “I want to make a really valuable contribution to the fleet, not just do something you’d be better off using a cadet for.”
“An important contribution, is it? Well now, Athena, if I could give you an important assignment, requiring discretion, diplomacy, one which involves the security of the whole fleet, would that be satisfactory?”
“What are you up to? If this is some made-up a job to flatter my ego, Father, I swear I’ll...”
“It’s not a made-up job. It’s something we’ve discussed in Council. I need an intermediary, and emissary, to meet with someone for me, to discuss his aims without advertising the meeting all over the fleet. I thought possibly of sending Apollo, but with Boxey sick, I can’t separate him from his son right now. Omega is now known to be one of my investigators, so I can’t really use him in this case. You would be a personal representative, rather than a representative of the Council or the fleet as a whole. The man might be persuaded to trust you.”
“Who is he, and why is he so important?” Athena was still suspicious.
“His name is Gueron, and he’s an Information Management Specialist aboard the Dawn Dreamer.”
“Where they had the riot?”
“Correct. He’s become a political leader, and could possibly pose a threat to the fleet if he’s not checked in some way. You see, Athena, this is important, and it may require more subtle maneuvering that flying a Viper. Unless, of course, you don’t think you can handle it. It’s something your mother would have enjoyed, but I suppose you…”
“You old woods daggit! I’m being manipulated again! All right, I’ll do it. Who briefs me?”
“Talk to Omega; it’s been his investigation. And if I were you, I wouldn’t wear a uniform. Uniforms aren’t very popular aboard the Dreamer are right now.”
Athena and Adama embraced again, and the young woman left, still shaking her head. Adama turned back to the portrait of Ila. “She’s your daughter, too, Ila. I only hope she’s inherited some of your skills. To deal with Gueron, she may need them.”
Even as Adama was meeting with his only daughter, two powerful and wealthy men – the elder an ex-Councilor, the younger the current councilor from Gemon – met on the older man’s cruiser, the Rising Star, to discuss a mutual problem.
“Adama’s not going to stop them. He doesn’t see the danger, and he has nothing to lose. We’ve got to stop those two before they spread their infection across the fleet. When we get to wherever it is we end up, I’ve no intention of being poor,” the older man said.
“You don’t have to persuade me, Uri – or any of the other ship-owners. But Adama is unpersuadable, and some of the other counselors are openly sympathetic – the jealous ones who own nothing themselves. If we do get Gueron and Cuyler here for trial, they are likely to become popular heroes. We have to find a more permanent solution.” Laris’ handsome face was set in an ugly scowl.
Uri smiled recently. “Yes, more permanent. There are a few such... professional men... left in the fleet. Let us seek one out; I’m sure some suitable arrangement can be made.” He laughed, shortly and without humor.
Athena felt somewhat uncomfortable in civilian dress. She had even changed her hair, wearing it in a more sophisticated, older style. A few other passengers in the regular shuttle making its way across the fleet, who were unaware of her identity, openly admired her, but her mind was focused on Omega’s briefing.
“Cuyler will undoubtedly know who you are and he’ll be informed by his people as soon as you identify yourself to the rec area monitor. Be honest, or Cuyler’ll eat you up before you ever get to see Gueron. You’re an emissary from Adama, there to discuss the riot and the security guard problem with Gueron, since he was openly accused in Council and should have his own say. Only Gueron need to know at first that the conference is more important than that. He’ll probably give Cuyler a full report as soon as you’ve left, but the captain won’t be able to interfere at that point.”
The Dawn Dreamer was a popular stop, and at least half the shuttles passengers disembarked there. Most of the ships in this lower portion of the fleet were too small and too crowded to have open recreation areas, and many civilians here couldn’t afford the more expensive pleasures offered by the Rising Star and the Moon Singer, Sire Laris’ luxury ship. This made the Dawn dreamer a major draw among people starved for entertainment.
Omega was right about the monitor; very close attention was paid when she stated her name and that she wanted to meet with Gueron. Before she had crossed halfway through the first entertainment area, she was met by a man perhaps a little older than Apollo, wearing the insignia of a civilian ship’s captain. From Omega’s briefing, Athena found it easy to recognize Cuyler, the half-Gemonese, half-Libran captain of the Dreamer.
“Cuyler was originally the second officer. His pure years died in the evacuation, and he more or less inherited the captaincy. Laris at first didn’t care, or probably didn’t even notice, and by the time he had to notice, Cuyler was too popular to the openly dismissed. Laris had been trying to remove him but more subtle means ever since. Don’t be taken in by the slouch in the lazy manner, either; that’s all a mask.”
“Athena, this is an honor for the Dawn dreamer,” Cuyler said casually. He slipped a strong arm around her elbow. “You’ll find the ship’s movements a little more noticeable than the Galactica’s; I hope it won’t discomfort you too much. Could I persuade you to join me in my cabin before introduce you to Gueron?”
She’d been expecting the invitation, which was closer to an order, and which, even as it was by the ship’s captain, had to be obeyed. As they moved through the battered old ship’s corridors, she took the opportunity to study Cuyler. He moved with a born spacer’s easy lope, adjusting instinctively to the ship’s motion. He was taller than her brother, and lighter, but not quite as fair as Starbuck, built square and solid like Boomer, another of Apollo’s top pilots. His uniform was well worn, almost threadbare in places, and totally devoid of the fancy decorations worn by many civilian captains to make up for the lack of military braid or ribbon.
Omega’s words echoed in her mind. “Don’t be fooled by the plainness of his garb. He earned several civilian declarations during the evacuation and in battle after Carillon. I don’t know if he had chosen not to wear them as part of his mask, or if he just doesn’t like ostentation.”
Cuyler’s cabin turned out to be just that – not an office, but his personal cabin, obviously inhabited by more than one person. On his cluttered desk was a holographic portrait of a small, dark woman in a ceiling gown. Omega had mentioned her also.
“He’s married to a Tauron. Trista was a systems analyst, but was blinded in the destruction. Now she teaches. By the way, she’s even more political than Cuyler, and possibly more so that Gueron, so if you meet her, be cautious.”
“I must admit to curiosity,” Cuyler said, settling her in a comfortable and well-worn chair. He himself perched on the corner of the desk. “We’ve only merited a desk officer before this. Why suddenly the commander’s daughter?”
“My father wanted this to be discreet, quiet. This seemed an adequate solution. Let me assure you that I am qualified. I am, after all, more than just a commander’s spoiled little girl.”
“I’m sure. I apologize if I gave you the impression of insult where none was intended. It’s just that I’m in a somewhat awkward position here; you must understand that. With at least one Councilor gunning for me, I have to be careful. I sent word to Gueron; he’ll be here shortly. I don’t suppose you’d consider including me in your... discussions?”
“My instructions were to speak to Gueron along – with your consent, of course, since you are the recognized captain of this ship.” Cuyler nodded briefly at this, although she could sense he wasn’t pleased. She continued, “I’m here informally, Captain. You needn’t worry about official action, not at this time, anyway.”
The entry signal sounded, and Cuyler moved to open the cabin door. Athena rose to meet one of the handsomest men she had ever encountered. Gueron was slender, about Starbuck’s height but built on finer lines, with medium and dark hair and green eyes that were the only sign of his Gemonese heritage; his general appearance was much closer to the Tauron. His smile was bright, and seemingly unwary and open, but Athena caught the glance he exchanged with Cuyler. Her own smile seemed to her to be forced, and she felt uneasy for a moment. Then she shrugged it off; her father was expecting her to succeed, and she had no intention of disappointing him.
“I’m most honored, Athena. Your father is a hero of mine,” Gueron said, offering his arm and gesturing back at the door.
Athena knew this was probably untrue – How do I know that? – but felt herself warming to him anyway. As his eyes traveled down her feminine frame, she felt, curiously enough, as though she were being complemented, not insulted. If only Starbuck would look at her like that! Unfortunately, it was a look he most often turned on Cassiopeia.
Arm in arm with the young bureautician, she moved off down the corridor, aware in the back of her mind that Cuyler was standing in his doorway, watching them with a suddenly cold and unfriendly stare.
“Why don’t we use my work station?” Gueron suggested. “Since I’m the only IM Spec on the Dreamer, it’s usually unmanned when I’m off duty, unless the ship’s librarian or the archivist need the main console for some reason. We can talk privately there.”
The faint accent on “privately” sent an unfamiliar thrill down Athena’s spine. Instinctively, she knew there was some danger involved, but again, she shrugged it off. Certainly, if she could handle Starbuck, she could handle this glorified computer technician, she told herself, maintaining her smile, which was getting less forced all the time. “That sounds fine. I suppose you’re pretty crowded here otherwise?”
“No worse than a lot of freighters, and certainly better than the smaller ships, like the buses, they’re almost tearful badly overcrowded. But my quarters are cramped, and the rec area is the public. I think privacy is of the utmost importance here, wouldn’t you agree?”
He slid open a door off the main corridor, and pressed a control turning on half the lighting in the small room. It was a typical IMR Center, filled with computer equipment, several public access terminals, an information processing unit, and a disc-printer. Gueron pointed her toward the main console, and she swept in ahead of him.
He stood for a minute in the doorway, watching her, the lazy half smile on his face hiding his thought. So, commander, the battle is beginning. Do you really think I’m going to vote for this old trick? I agree, she’s quite attractive, but I not going to be distracted or sidetracked some carefully choreographed political romance.
None of his anger showed on his face; yahrens of practice had perfected his self-control. Finally, he closed the door and pushed the autolock. Smiling again, he moved to another chair. “Now, Athena, what would you like to discuss with me – – or rather, what did your father send you here to discuss?”
Omega, as it turned out, had been a little lax in his briefing; but then, as a man, he’d probably never been hit with the full force of Gueron’s charm. Athena found herself sidetracked into personal conversation so often that she almost forgot her purpose. Every time she tried to steer the conversation back to basics – a meeting between Gueron and Adama, for instance – Gueron would listen politely, make some brief comments about the honor of the request, or about the possible danger of leaving the Dreamer, then begin again with the personal questions.
Athena was inexperienced at this; Starbuck had been open and aboveboard, compared with Gueron’s easy and charming subtlety. His manner was personal and mostly possessive, and she responded to it almost unconsciously, her pride leading the way. A little voice in her head kept repeating that this man found her attractive, very attractive, and she was positive that he wouldn’t chase after ex-socialators. After all, he was half-Gemonese, and that, she assumed, gave him partial immunity.
She eventually became so absorbed in his line of conversation that she completely lost track of her own. He was so easy to talk to, almost like an intimate friend, even though she had just met him. When at last she noticed the time, it was a shock. Shuttle between ships were kept to a minimum, and were strictly scheduled, to conserve fuel, and she had missed the last shuttle back to the Galactica.
Gueron laughed at her chagrin, saying, “Don’t worry about it. You can contact the Galactica from the bridge. I’m sure Cuyler will permit it, under this circumstances, and you can arrange for a special flight to pick you up. Commander Adama wouldn’t want his daughter to be stranded; he’ll make exception, I’m sure.”
“No, I can’t ask that; fuel’s too precious, and besides, that would draw attention to the importance of my visit here.” Athena was too distracted to see the triumphant gleam in Gueron’s eyes. “I would like to contact the Galactica, though, to explain to Father that I’ll be taking first shuttle on the next schedule. I can sleep in your life center, if there’s room.”
“I’m sure we can do better than that. Come on, let’s go to the bridge and let you call your father. He may be worried when you don’t arrive on time. At least we’ll have more time to discuss the matter at hand; surely that will console him.”
Actually, it wasn’t Adama who did the most worrying. Sheba had taken over a shuttle flight to give a friend a welcome break, and Starbuck met her she came back. “What do you mean, where’s Athena? Isn’t she on duty?”
“She’s on special assignment, over on the Dawn dreamer, something about that Wyatt, I guess. She was due back on this shuttle,” Starbuck replied.
“Why Athena? I thought Omega had that assignment.”
“I don’t know exactly. The commander’s being a little close-mouthed about the whole thing. I think it has something to do with the political agitator the security guards tried to pin the blame on. Some INS named Gueron. He’s supposed to be pretty popular with the regular citizens in the fleet. I wonder what happened to Athena.”
Sheba was startled when she heard Gueron’s name. “Are you sure about the name, Starbuck? Gueron? Half-Gemonese, half-Tauran?” At Starbucks statement that he believed that was the man, she controlled herself with an effort and said briskly, “I wouldn’t worry, Starbuck. You know bureauticians; she’s probably getting her ears talked off.” They started down the Galactica’s corridors. “All the same, I think I’ll go ask Adama; maybe he knows if she was really delayed, or if it was supposed to take this long. You go on ahead to Life Center and say hello to Apollo to Boxey for me. I’ll look in later.”
Sheba took off down another corridor. Starbuck shook his head, then head for Life Center, where Apollo was helping the doctor with his feverish son. Boxey was unwilling to stay in bed, but too sick to be allowed up. At least Cassiopeia would be there, and just about at the end of her shift. Starbuck brightened. It was going to be hard enough apologizing to Athena for their last argument; he wasn’t reluctant to delay it.
Sheba went directly to Commander Adama’s office. Adama considered her a member of the family, ever since the death or disappearance of her father, the legendary Warrior-leader Cain; she gained entrance right away. “Starbuck says you went sent Athena over to talk to Gueron. Is he right? Commander, if he is, you’ve got to recall her right away. Let me take the shuttle back and pick her up right now.”
“What’s the problem? I was hoping Athena’s mission would be a secret for at least a little while. Still, I assure you, Athena is perfectly capable of handling the job I sent her to do. All she has to do is talk to the young man, see where he stands on things, maybe get him to come here for a meeting. I’m sure there’s a perfectly good reason for missing the shuttle.”
Sheba steeled herself to tell him. “Look, commander, I know Gueron. He hates warriors. More to the point, he hates warrior daughters of warriors. He was… my first serious romance, right after I got out of the Academy. I had a port assignment, back home. Gueron was there, working at the same port, in the IMR Center. We fell in love, and he wanted to seal the relationship. So, as soon as Father was back in port, we went to see him about it.
“It was terrible. Gueron has never served as a warrior. He had some kind of deferment – I never did find out exactly what kind – and that made Father suspicious. He kept insisting that Gueron tell him why he never served, and Gueron kept saying it was personal, and he chose not to discuss it. Father kept on attacking; you know how he could be. Pretty soon, Gueron was backed into a corner. All Father wanted was for him to fight back, but he didn’t or maybe he couldn’t; I don’t know. I just know that he left and refused to see me again. Father decided he was a coward and ordered me to stay away from him.
“I didn’t, of course. I had to give it one more try. Gueron was so bitter, I didn’t know how to handle it, and when I refused to go through with the sealing without Father’s approval, he told me to leave and never come back. He said I was… more in love with my father than with him... and he didn’t want to marry some Warrior’s spoiled little girl.
“I told him Father would change his mind eventually, if he saw we were serious, but Gueron just said he didn’t think I was serious enough, and even if I was, I wasn’t worth putting up with Commander Cain.
“He transferred out not too long after, and I never saw him again. But I did hear a few things, before I left aboard the Pegasus with Father. He’d turned against all warriors, started campaigning against giving us any kind of special privileges at all. You know the line; you’ve probably heard it all before. Anyway, he’s bound to think the worst of you for sending Athena, and he’ll strike out at her; I know he will. You’ve got to call her back!”
“You think he’ll attack her?” Adama’s brow wrinkled up in a frown.
“No, nothing like that, but… Commander, do you think Starbuck is charming? Well, believe me, Gueron is capable of making the great Starbuck look like a tongue-tied schoolboy. He’ll twist Athena like Starbuck has never dreamed of doing, and she won’t have any defense. Please, let me get her. We can see we are worried because she was overdue.”
They were interrupted by a signal from the bridge. “Commander, we’ve had a confidential message from the Dawn Dreamer, from Athena. Quote: Talks proceeding well. Will return to Galactica when next shuttle trip starts. Captain Cuyler is finding me quarters for the night. End Quote. Is there a reply, Commander?”
“I… No, there is no reply, except that I eagerly await her report.” Adama turned back to Sheba. “It’s too late now. I asked Athena to take this assignment because she begged for more responsibility. If I order her back now, I could hurt her far more than Gueron could. I have to trust her judgment and Gueron’s common sense; right now he needs my support, not my approbation for mistreating my daughter and personal representative. Also, since the entire fleet apparently knows she’s over there, my recalling her would cause a near scandal. I don’t think one night is going to make a great deal of difference. Now, shall we go visit Boxey?”
Sheba reluctantly agreed, and accompanied him from the office.
Gueron’s quarters on the Dawn Dreamer indeed cramped, but they were almost painfully neat. Athena studied the few personal possessions with fixed interest, then noticed that Gueron was being very quiet. She turned to find him leaning nonchalantly against the bulkhead, watching her.
“Well, where are my guest quarters?” she asked, trying to keep her voice as light as his had been all day, and not entirely succeeding. The little voice in her head was laughing at her; she’d known all along what Gueron intended.
“Actually, I thought you could stay here.”
The reply came just as she expected. The little voice stopped laughing as she went into his arms, her mouth instinctively seeking his. A Viper blast went off in her head, and the little voice disappeared.
“Father, he’s agreed to meet with you, but it has to be with you, and you alone. He doesn’t trust the other counselors, and I must admit his arguments make a lot of sense. Also, Cuyler doesn’t want to leave the dreamer; he’s safe there, and there’s no telling what Laris might try, to keep him from going back if he leaves. I promised him you go there to meet with him, as soon as it could be arranged.”
Athena was making her official report and Adama’s office. He had to admit she looked spectacular, not at all like someone who had just spent the night in the life Center of an old freighter. He also had to admit Gueron’s arguments did make some sense. This way, he could meet with both Cuyler and Gueron at the same time, or at least consecutively, and perhaps do a little public relations work as well; he didn’t often get to many of the other ships in the fleet.
Yes, the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. “Make all the arrangements. You can shuttle me over, since you done all the groundwork; he may even prefer your being there, since you apparently got along quite well.” Adama silenced that part of himself that was father instead of commander, that said there was something wrong with Athena and her sudden almost warship of a new appointments. Anything to get her mind off Starbuck, he told himself, trying not to think about she was warnings.
Athena was uncharacteristically excited and jumping in the shuttle over to the Dawn Dreamer. Adama, lost in his own thoughts about the coming meeting, hardly noticed. Her flying ones, as usual, impeccable, and the landing was smooth and professional. Cuyler himself met them, with the risk, impersonal smile.
Gueron was also there; his eyes met the theaters in icy, unfriendly glare that made her flinch. “Your daughter is far better at persuading you that I thought she would be,” he said flatly, without a hint of the previous day’s charm. “But then, she knows you. I’m a stranger.” He put an emphasis on stranger that drew a sharp an uneasy look from Cuyler.
There were undercurrents here that Adama could not identify, making him uneasy as well, recalling Sheba’s warning. He hates warriors. “At any rate, Gueron, I am here, and as long as I am, I think we have serious matters to discuss.” Adama deliberately kept his voice neutral, despite the growing icy discomfort in his stomach.
Athena had gone still and white; when he turned to her, she forced a sickly smile and said, too brightly, that she would wait in the shuttle, since she was not, after all, a bureautician.
Gueron turned a chilly smile on her. “Yes, I would agree with her on that. If you’ll just follow me, Commander Adama... Cuyler, we’ll be in the IMR center if anyone needs to reach the commander.”
Suddenly anxious to get the interview over with, Adama squeezed Athena’s hand warmly, and followed Gueron down the corridor.
“Don’t be too hasty to judge him...” Cuyler started to say, but Athena interrupted him, anger burning in her throat.
“Why not, Captain? I think I’ve earned the right to judge him if I choose. I’ll be in the shuttle.” She turned sharply away and returned to the cockpit, anger beginning to give way to hurt and shame.
“Thanks for the lesson, Gueron. Never again! Not by Starbuck, not by you, you lousy slimy computech. No one hurts me like that again!” She leaned forward, cradled her head in her arms, and began to cry.
Gueron said nothing during the walk to his workstation, obviously mindful of the curious bystanders they passed in the corridors, but, as Adama preceded him into the Center, the words almost exploded from him, cold and angry, bitter and sarcastic. “What did you take me for, Commander? A complete idiot, ready to let a pretty face distract and prejudice me? That’s quite an insult. It’s also one of the oldest tricks in political history.”
Adama turned slowly to face him. “I’m not sure I understand you.”
“You’re going to deny it? Deny sending her here deliberately, as a ruler and a distraction? Come on, commander, you’re a warrior first and last, and you think like one. Put your enemy off guard; make him fall into a trap. Easy, only I didn’t fall. I saw through it, and used it. So now you want to deny setting the trap in the first place. Typical!”
Adama was stunned by the hatred and Gueron’s voice. He was about to ask whether Gueron was really his enemy when the full implication of the accusation sank in. “You mean... You actually think I would send her...”
His voice trailed off, and he thought of Ila, and how they had met. He’d been sent to her, by a worried superior officer, exactly as Gueron was saying he, Adama, had sent Athena here. He remembered what he’d been thinking about when Athena first asked him for more responsibility, and suddenly burst out laughing.
Gueron stared at him, puzzled by the sudden change in mood.
Adama choked, “You could just be right, Gueron, but I swear to you, I didn’t set this trap consciously.” He went on to explain how he met his wife, and how, of late, he frequently been overcome with memories of her.
At first, Gueron just stood there, apparently not sure how to react, but finally, in response to Adama’s friendly demeanor, he relaxed. “You’re going to have to be more careful, commander – – unwittingly setting traps for yourself to get caught in.”
A thought struck him, and he turned away, fighting to control himself. Anything Adama might say if he knew everything that had happened was rapidly becoming unimportant next to a more vital point, what had he done to Athena? She hadn’t consciously been bait, and so she ended up a victim. With a desperate effort, he regained control and sat down, facing Adama again. Although the atmosphere was still a little awkward, both been felt an easing of hostility.
A message came through on Gueron’s main console, and he turned to respond to it. “Excuse me a moment, commander. I have to put this terminal out of service or we’ll be too often.”
Adama watched carefully as the younger man punched out a return message on his screen – – at least, here was the answer to how these people communicate with one another!
When Gueron finished transmitting, and noticed that half grin on Adama’s face, he knew immediately what it meant.” Yeah, we use the IM terminals to talk shipped to ship, but usually it’s only for IMR business, like request not too long ago for a copy of a children’s book. We’re still looking for that one, by the way.
“Now, about me meeting with the Council. I’m afraid it’s out of the question. For one thing I think the counsel is outdated and obsolete; that idiotic form of government got us into this mess in the first place. Besides, it’s totally an adequate for current situation. We’re a group of people from 12 extinct worlds, a collection of separate communities, housing metal worlds, each independent of the others went down to each other by necessity. We need a government that represents us as we are, not as we were!
“But it takes time to set up a new government. What do you suggest we use?” Adama started to argue, grimacing a bit to himself as he did. He was going to find it very difficult to play advocate for a form of government he himself was not too sure of...
When the two men finally emerged from the IMR center, they found Cuyler and Trista, his pregnant wife, Winnie anxiously outside. “I was beginning to think I’d have to break in you weren’t supposed to rebuild the universe single-handedly, you know. What took so long?” Cuyler asked.
“We... managed to find some middle ground, Capt.,” Adama answered.
Gueron barely suppressed a laugh. “I guess that’s one way of putting it, commander.”
Gueron was very much at ease with Adama, much to Cuyler’s relief. He knew his friend’s temper. He had heard of Adama’s obstinacy, and was sure the two would finish their “discussion” as die-hard enemies. It was a definite pleasure to find that at least cautiously at ease with each other.
“I hope Athena managed to occupy herself while I was busy,” Adama said to Cuyler as the four moved off toward the shuttle bay.
“She didn’t leave the shuttle, commander. Still, I saw to it that Emile was delivered to her, interest that kept her company for a while,” Cuyler answered, with a worried glance at Gueron, who shrugged helplessly out of Adama’s view. If the commander was aware of any tension, he didn’t show it, seemingly satisfied that Athena hadn’t missed her meal because of his highly interesting debate.
They parted at the entrance to the bay, with Athena watching stiffly from the shuttle. This time, Gueron couldn’t meet her gaze, and he seemed a little pale. He forced himself to stand straight, meet Adama’s eyes, and shake hands, paying attention to the Commander’s assurances that he would bring all they had discussed to the Council for debate and consideration. The IM specialist had little doubt that the Council would either ignore or simply discard his ideas, regardless of how they were presented, but it was encouraging to have Adama at least partially on his side.
“Frak!” he swore to himself, cursing once again that part of his Gemonese heritage that had cost him any chance of becoming a Colonial Warrior.
Later that day, back aboard the Galactica, Adama made a point of searching out Sheba. “I did learn why Gueron was ineligible for Warrior service,” he explained. “He suffers from some nervous disorder, minor, but enough to automatically bar him from Warrior duty.”
“Why wouldn’t he tell Father? He would have understood; I know he would have, and then all of this could have been avoided.” Sheba hadn’t missed the lackluster look in Athena’s eyes, and the slump of her usually straight shoulders; she was convinced something more had happened than her friend was claiming.
“I understand that the illness is sometimes hereditary. Perhaps he was afraid Cain would have forbidden the match on those grounds. At any rate, he isn’t quite the enemy you feared he would be. Now, you are having dinner with us, I hope?”
Although Athena’s visit to the Dreamer could be explained away, Adama’s, so soon afterward, could not. The Council had heard about both visits, and called an immediate meeting to discuss the results. Laris, in particular, was angered by Adama’s “presumption”; his protests were only silenced by the reminder from Tinia that he was the one who wanted something done about the Dreamer.
Actually, Adama had a better reception than he’d expected, with several Councilors showing great interest in Gueron’s protests about unfair representation under the current patterns of life in the fleet, and especially the idea that some people weren’t represented at all, because their bloodlines were mixed, and they weren’t listed on the voting rolls of any one single world.
Nothing was decided, of course; Adama didn’t expect it to be quite that easy. About the only thing the meeting did accomplish was to end Laris’ demands about arresting Gueron; Adama was able to persuade the Council that the young man was not advocating violent action against the fleet.
What the Commander didn’t realize was that this put Gueron’s life, and Cuyler’s as well, in considerable danger. Shortly after the Council meeting, Laris met with a thin, hard-looking man who had just recently been released from the Prison Barge. Upon Laris’ assurances that he would never come to trial, the man agreed, for a rather large sum of money, to kill Gueron and Cuyler.
The day after his meeting with Gueron, Adama received a small package from the Dreamer, with a rather cryptic message. The package contained a copy-disc of a children’s book entitled Sharky Star-Rover, something Adama had searched for in vain not too long back; the message stated, “We finally tracked one down for you. I hope this will suffice as an apology for any pain or inconvenience I have caused you or any member of your family.” It was signed, “Gueron, Dawn Dreamer.”
Athena refused to remark on either the gift or the message that accompanied it, although she seemed a little upset. Adama was left with a small mystery, and the perfect story to keep his grandson quietly in bed, for at least a little while.
Athena’s return to the Dawn Dreamer was noticed by the monitor in the rec area even though she didn’t announce herself, so her appearance at the door to the IMR Center was no surprise to Gueron. All the same, he seemed wary and nervous. He was busy at his terminal, and at first pretended not to notice that Athena had pressed the auto-lock. Finally, when she didn’t say anything, he punched out a TERMINATE PROGRAM message and turned his chair to face her.
Athena noticed that he was clasping the chair arms tightly with both hands, and she remembered Cassiopeia’s description of his ailment. “Gemonese plasy causes uncontrollable shaking in the fingers of both hands when the sufferer is under stress.” She felt a shiver of satisfaction in the idea that Gueron found this meeting stressful.
“Why? No political double-talk either, Gueron. I think I deserve more than that.”
“I agree. I… I’m sorry, Athena. I thought, well, I thought you were sent here as a deliberate lure, as bait for some elaborate trap set by your father and the Council. I persuaded myself that since everyone knows of your friendship with the famous – or should I say infamous – Starbuck, you weren’t… I wouldn’t be the first. I was wrong on both counts, and I am truly sorry. I don’t think I’ve ever felt quite as small and wormy as I do right now. I know there’s not really anything I can do that will take everything back. All I can do is apologize.”
Gueron was as humble as his proud nature would allow; Athena, angry and hurt as she was, could sense that. She’d expected some arrogant comeback, something about how she hadn’t seemed to mind it at the time, and about getting what she asked for. She sat down gingerly on the edge of a chair, and for a while, the Center was overwhelmingly quiet.
Then the disc-printer started chattering. Gueron turned to see what was copying, and seemed pleased about it. He started to explain. “We’re cooperating with Program Reunite. It’s an attempt by various people in the fleet to track down records of dispersed branches of their families, to see if they have surviving relatives they never knew about. There’s been this one young man in particular, who’s been very anxious to learn about his father’s sister, who married against her family’s wishes, then left the home world. Well, we’ve found that he has three cousins in the fleet. That’s the kind of report I like sending out. Just let me conclude this message, and I’ll be with you.” Gueron busied himself with the terminal, too absorbed to notice Athena’s avid interest in his actions.
“Have you been able to reconstruct many family trees through Program Reunited?” she asked when he finished and logged off.
“A few. Not as many as we’d like, but we’re always getting more input. The word’s getting around, and a lot of civilians are going to their ships’ IMR Centers to have their genealogies recorded, so there’s always a chance we could get some important links we didn’t have earlier. It’s one of the more interesting parts of my job. I do like it, by the way; it has its own unique challenges, and more and more people are finding that the proper management and storage of knowledge is important to the survival of our people.”
The door signal sounded, and Gueron released the lock. The ship’s archivist, a plain young man with a slight limp, needed the main console.
“Look, Athena, my regular shift is up. I’m logged off, and I’ve spent enough time here for one day. Let’s walk around a bit, let you see how my people live. Maybe you’ll understand more then.”
The Dreamer’s population turned out to be from several different worlds. Cuyler had apparently made every possible stop during the evacuation, picking up as many fugitives as he could before making rendezvous with the Galactica.
“It makes getting a complete voters’ roll difficult. I can’t vote, by the way; neither can Cuyler. I was disqualified from the Gemonese roll because my mother was Tauran, and I was disqualified from the Tauran roll because I lived more of my adult life before the Destruction on either Gemon or Libra. Those decisions are usually left up to the Councilors of each individual world, and if the Councilor doesn’t like you, you could find yourself ineligible to vote. Trista is listed on the Tauran roll; there’s no way she could be disqualified, but Cuyler is in the same situation I am. There’s no real representation of the whole fleet.”
The rec area was almost Spartan compared to the luxury of the Rising Star, where Starbuck occasionally took her when he was in the mood – and the cubits – but Cuyler had seen to it that a wide variety of activities were provided. The second shift was a busy time, and the area was crowded. Athena was impressed by the number of people her escort knew by name, and the obvious respect and admiration they accorded him. She was also human enough, and feminine enough, to preen just a little when several other women glanced enviously at her. Gueron was obviously considered a “catch” by the women in this part of the fleet.
They continued on, through the “living space” portion of the freighter. Cuyler’s engineers and technicians had made practical changes in the ship’s interior, permitting each family a relatively comfortable “home.” Each separate cabin was divided into two, or in some cases three, cubicles, which the inhabitants could decorate as they chose. The quarters were still very plain, but the whole area had a homey atmosphere that Athena found very appealing.
The corridor-streets were places for people to meet and exchange gossip, rather like the old marketplaces Athena remembered on Caprica, her own home world. There were several open areas for children to play in; Trista was holding class in one of them, and gave a cheery wave when Gueron called out a welcome.
“You see, these people aren’t bothered by hardship; their lives were never all that easy before. They’re used to doing without, used to making do with what they have, used to struggling to survive in crowded living space. Cuyler’s tried to create an environment for them that’s at least as close as possible to their old homes, and as a result, they’ve adapted quite well to living in space. They’re only bothered by the idea that there are some people in the fleet who have profited from their struggles, who are continuing to profit.” Bitterness tinged his voice as he continued. “Did you know that several ship-owners, including one Councilor, refused to permit refugees to board their ships unless they paid a fee? That’s one of the reasons Cuyler started Operation Independence; the ship-owners were assuming power over free people, power they have no right to claim, regardless of their deeds and papers.”
“I had heard of that happening, yes. Starbuck was accused of a killing not too long ago, and it turned out that the motive of the real killer was something like that. I think Father’s been investigating the situation with an eye to charging people.”
Gueron shrugged; he had no faith in the commander’s ability to bring those people to trial, even though he now believed Adama wanted to.
Life Center, where everyone assumed Athena had spent her one night on the Dreamer, was an almost cheerful place, with decoration, and a separate area for children, complete with toys and viewscreens. Only the seriously ill were kept apart, in screened-off cubicles.
Gueron slipped into one of these, and Athena followed, to meet a solemn-faced child, a very thin girl perhaps a yahren or two older than Boxey. The child put up her arms for a hug, and Gueron gave it cheerfully. Still she didn’t smile, and made no sound whatsoever.
“This is the Princess. That’s what we call her, since she wants to keep her name a secret. Princess, this is Athena; she’s a new friend.”
A pair of quiet, pain-filled brown eyes regarded Athena briefly. Athena greeted the little girl as cheerfully as she could, but got no response. The Princess was playing with a battered doll, and seemed willing to continue in that occupation. Gueron sat on the edge of the bed, and tried to draw her out, but even the full weight of his considerable charm had no apparent effect. Finally, he kissed the child lightly on the forehead and rose to leave.
On impulse, Athena did the same, and then asked if she could kiss the doll. The Princess studied her quizzically for a centon, and then turned the doll’s face upwards. Athena gently kissed the battered, dirty doll, trying to block out the sight of tell-tale, reddish brown stains. She rose again, and smiled at the child; a single tear slid down the little girl’s thin cheek. “May I visit you and your friend again sometime, Princess? I really enjoyed meeting you.” The child went back to her doll, and Athena followed Gueron out of the cubicle.
“You handled that very well, Athena,” Gueron admired. “At least you got a response; not everyone can.” He sighed. “We found her during one of the last battles on Libra, in the ruins of a house. No one has ever come forward to claim her, and since she won’t talk to us, we don’t know her name, or her family, or anything. She’s suffering from some kind of radiation burn; she’s really very sick, and probably in a lot of pain, but she won’t say a word, never cries or anything, just plays with that doll. Once, desperate to get a response, a med tech took the doll away, but she didn’t scream or respond in any way, just laid down and stared at the ceiling. The same thing happened when someone tried to give her a new doll; she dropped it on the floor, and went back to staring at the ceiling. It’s really sad.”
Trying not to cry, Athena asked, “Will she live?”
Gueron shrugged. “Maybe. She’s made it this far, but with her physical and emotional problems, who knows? We have some excellent medical people, but none of our ships, not even the Galactica, has anywhere near the facilities of a homeworld hospital.”
“Visiting the Princess?” Cuyler and Trista came up behind them. After Gueron confirmed where they had been, Cuyler asked to speak with him privately. Trista took Athena’s arm.
“Why don’t we leave them to their discussion, since it’s obvious they don’t want us around. I’ve wanted to talk to you anyway, ever since our aborted conversation in your father’s shuttle.”
The two women started down the corridor. Trista seemed to know just where she was going, despite her handicap. “I was serious about talking to you, you know. That wasn’t just for Gueron’s benefit. I wanted to tell you a little about him, so you won’t misjudge him.”
“I already knew a little. Sheba, one of my friends, knew him a long time ago.”
“Ah, yes, Commander Cain’s daughter. But I doubt she knows anything about his recent past. He was married, did you know that? I never met her, but Cuyler’s seen pictures; he says she was very pretty, in a quiet way. They had to run away to get married; this was before doctors discovered than Gemonese palsy can’t be transmitted to children by parents with mixed blood, and the woman’s family feared her children would inherit the ailment. So there was no proper sealing ceremony, or anything like that. Another rejection, much like Commander Cain’s.
“Then, the Destruction. Gueron was on the Dreamer, not at home, when the attack started. By the time he got to the house, she was gone, leaving a message that she would leave the ship in port. It appeared that she never made it, at least at that time, but since then we’ve heard… rumors, I suppose you’d call them, no hard evidence… It’s… possible… that she did reach the port and was offered a place temporarily on another ship. The owner supposedly tried to convince her to become his mistress, and when she refused, she was killed. At least, that’s the story; Gueron claims he won’t believe it until he sees proof, but I wonder about that sometimes. It certainly wouldn’t surprise me if it were true, you know; some of the ship owners are like that.”
“So I’ve heard.” Athena felt she had to respond somehow, though her mind felt numb. So that was why Gueron was so bitter toward ship owners; even if he tried not to believe the rumors, it had to bother him; the possibility that his wife may have fallen victim, not to the Cylons, but to a member of her own species.
“Then I assume your father and the rest of the almighty Council have also heard, but they don’t seem too willing to do anything about it. Cuyler waited a long time for official action, and finally, when it didn’t come and didn’t come, he was forced to take action on his own. That’s when Operation Independence was born: the movement to declare all ships free of ownership. We do have legal precedent, after all, firm legal grounds.”
“You do?” Athena had to agree with Omega; Trista was certainly as political as her husband.
“Yes, of course. We didn’t just dream this up like a children’s game. One of our oldest laws has been that no one individual can own an entire community. What is a ship in this fleet if not a community? A community separate from other communities, certainly worth and capable of ruling itself just as a planet-bound community would.”
“Ah, listen to her. My wife, the bureautician.” Cuyler and Gueron had rejoined them, just in front of the entrance to the rec area; the crowds had thinned out a little. “Be careful, Athena. It’s a contagious disease. I was as political as a daggit until I met these two. Watch it, or you’ll wind up just like us.”
In the round of laughter that followed, none of the quartet really noticed a thin man who detached himself slightly from the line of people waiting for the shuttle and raised his arm just a little. Just as he was about to fire, the line moved, and he was jostled. The shots went wild, striking not Gueron, his first target, but Athena, who fell back into the corridor. Another bolt struck Cuyler, but only a glancing blow; he staggered, clutching his forearm. The would-be assassin tried to run into the shuttle, but was prevented by the angry crowd.
For Athena, it was like a nightmare. Nothing was happening to her; it was happening to someone she was watching. She could hear angry voices all around her, shouting and crying, but she couldn’t make out any words. A woman next to her was calling for medical help, and Athena knew someone was holding her.
It was a strain to keep her eyes open, and she decided that as long as she was sleeping anyway – this was a nightmare, wasn’t it? – she could close them.
The nightmare ended, and she slept.
A familiar voice woke her. She cautiously opened her eyes, to find herself in the Dreamer’s Life Center. Adama and Apollo were standing next to her. Her father smiled, and asked how she felt.
“All right, I guess. A little sleepy, that’s all.” She tried to sit up, but the movement hurt her head. “Ooh, I guess that’s not all.”
“Do you remember what happened?” Apollo asked.
“I think so, but it’s hazy. There was this man; at least, I think there was, and he shot me. I think he shot Cuyler, too. Did he?”
“Cuyler’s not very badly hurt. He’ll be fit for duty again tomorrow. Do you remember well enough to give corroborating testimony at the tribunal?” Adama inquired.
“I’m not sure. Like I said, it’s all hazy. Did they catch him?”
“Cuyler’s people grabbed him right after the shooting. Now all we have to do is figure out why he did it. Rather than face a mutiny, I’ve allowed Cuyler to hold the man here, instead of removing him to the Galactica or the Prison Barge for tribunal. He knows all about the grid-barge; he just got off it. He let slip to one of the guards that once he returned to the Galactica, he’d disappear without a trace. No one wants that to happen, and Cuyler has a pretty good security set-up here, so I’ll just let him handle things. There’s little question of the man’s guilt, not with so many witnesses. Either he’s crazy, or someone promised he’d be taken care of. I tend to think it’s the latter, and I want to know who that someone is.”
“The guard reported that he seemed very surprised that the witnesses were able to hold him,” Apollo added. “He told the guard that he’d been informed there were no Warriors on the Dreamer, just a bunch of common, lower-class citizens, nothing for a professional to worry about.”
A med tech came up then, and suggested that Athena would like some more sleep, in a tone of voice that said it wasn’t just a suggestion. The two men left, and Athena settled back to sleep again, surprised at how good it felt.
Once the assassin found out that he wasn’t going to be sent back to the Galactica for tribunal, that he’d be staying aboard the Dreamer, where his employers couldn’t reach him, it didn’t take him long to tell the investigators everything. When Adama got the word, he called for a special session of the Council.
Unsuspecting, Laris came with the rest, to be met by an escort of regular Warriors. Adama read the would-be killer’s confession to a stunned Council. Although a little blind at times, and somewhat self-serving, even the worst of the other Councilors had never seriously contemplated murder, and they were quick to condemn Laris. The meeting ended with a call for a new election of a Gemonese representative.
Laris and Uri were brought to tribunal with the assassin. Unfortunately, since Uri hadn’t participated in the actual negotiation and hiring, he was found guilty of only being an accessory; his fine was a mere pittance, for a man as wealthy as Uri.
Laris was another story. He was found guilty of attempted murder, conspiracy, extortion, and murder by neglect, the last two for his treatment of refugees during the post-Destruction evacuation. He was convicted as a result of evidence and testimony uncovered by the mysterious Cathal and presented by Tinia. Setting a precedent that would eventually reach across the fleet, all of Laris’ ships were confirmed in their independence; all that was required was that their captains swear an oath of allegiance to the fleet, and provide evidence that they were setting up “advisory committees” through which the citizens aboard the ships would govern themselves in all except military matters. Also, Laris’ art collection, which contained items probably looted from museums and galleries during the evacuation, was turned over to the Council, which planned to set up a public museum. Laris himself went to the Prison Barge to serve a long sentence.
As it turned out, Athena’s testimony wasn’t needed at the tribunal. Gueron and Cuyler were called on, but the most valuable testimony was provided by the people waiting in line to board the shuttle. Most people in the fleet were left wondering about the utter stupidity of the would-be murderer – or was it the utter arrogance of his employer, believing he could prevent the tribunal from ever being held?
Also, Adama finally persuaded Gueron to address the Council about the common grievances of the fleet, especially about the disenfranchisement of mixed-blood citizens. This was a somewhat subdued Council, upset that one of their number had been as guilty as Laris, and that they had been taken in a second time. After Uri and the Carillon incident, they had all declared they would never again be fooled that way; now, Laris had shown them how easy it was. The Council was given countless depositions counted by Tinia, Omega, and Gueron, showing how many of the fleet’s citizens held Gueron’s beliefs. After a stirring speech by Adama and another by Gueron, followed by a lengthy debate, the Council reached a momentous decision; the captains of the fleet were all invited to the Galactica to personally hear the decision, which was to be broadcast to every ship.
Siress Tinia read the decision. “We, your elected representatives on the Council of Twelve, have heard your grievances, and find many of them valid. However, we believe that change must come slowly, or chaos will result. Our race has been ruled by a Council like this one for generations, and we believe that it still has a valid reason for existence.
“However, we now live under most extraordinary circumstances which call for changes in our lifestyles and in our government. The Council needs assistance to rule wisely and well. We call for the election of an Assembly, consisting of one representative from each ship, or, in the case of the smaller ships, from each group of ships. This Assembly will have as its primary responsibility the determination of the needs of the common citizens of the fleet, and bringing those needs to the attention of the Council, so that we may make adequate laws and regulations to meet them. Assembly members may present proposals for such laws to the Council, and these proposals may not be simply brushed aside. A vote must be taken in the Council. Also, a two-thirds vote of the Assembly will conditionally veto any law brought through the Council. Therefore, the one group will serve as a check on the other.
“To ensure that the election of the Assembly will be as fair and as just as possible, we declared a Period of Enfranchisement. All citizens of mixed blood will be permitted to choose on which of their parents’ homeworlds they wish to be listed on the voting rolls. We realize that many of you believe these planetary designations to be obsolete, considering the conditions under which we now live; however, much if not all of our culture and history is bound up with our twelve homeworlds, and to deny them now would be to destroy for our descendants an essential heritage.
“We also realize that it will take some time to establish the Assembly, with its codes and rules of operation, and it is necessary to have someone immediately responsible for setting everything up, and to act as liaison between the Council and the new Assembly until the establishment is complete and secure. We, the Council of Twelve, are pleased to announce that Gueron, of the Dawn Dreamer, has been asked and has agreed to assume those duties.”
Immediately following the announcement of Gueron’s appointment, Adama was host to a large dinner party for the members of his family, Sheba, Starbuck, Boomer, Cassiopeia, Gueron, Tinia, Cuyler, and Trista. During a friendly political discussion, Trista pulled Athena aside. “I hope you won’t be offended, Athena, but Gueron told Cuyler and me all about that first night. He… well, we’re his closest friends, and he was really angry at himself, and very concerned about making it up to you. I know he’s more than just interested in you now, and I hope Cuyler and I are correct about your feelings for him.”
Taking a deep breath, Athena replied, “I’m in love with him. I think so, anyway. You see, I always thought that what I felt for Starbuck was love, but this isn’t much like that, so I’m not really sure.”
“Just as people are different, so are the emotions you will feel for them. Don’t degrade what you feel for Gueron because it’s not the same sensation you felt for Starbuck. I have to warn you, though: If you plan on waiting for Gueron to make the first move, you’ll be waiting forever. He’s plagued not only by the memory of your first meeting, but by the treatment he received from Cain and from his wife’s family, and he’s just too afraid of repeating the experience. If you want him, you’ll have to go after him.”
Later, after dessert, Athena, remembering another dinner party which had ended in her brother’s proposal to Serina, looked across the table at Gueron, took a deep breath, and decided there was no time like the present. She stood up, and conversation ceased; all eyes turned toward her.
Her knees shaking, she rushed ahead, wanting to finish before her legs betrayed her and gave out. “I would like to ask our new Assembly chairman a question, if I may?”
Apollo’s eyebrows rose; this didn’t sound much like his sister. Trista stifled a giggle, and grabbed her husband’s hand. Adama nodded for Athena to proceed.
“I realize you’ve already apologized once, or actually twice, for a certain misunderstanding. However, I must reject those apologies for a more fitting one. When are you really going to make it up to me, and marry me?”
Gueron choked, and one hand flew up to cover his face. Trista and Cuyler burst out laughing, and even Sheba had to grin at her old beau’s shock. Starbuck looked quizzically at Athena, and Cassiopeia suddenly knew he’d never actually considered the possibility of losing Athena, even if he no longer wanted her.
Apollo chuckled softly. “I should have warned you about these dinner parties.”
“Well?” Athena stood straight. Feeling at a disadvantage looking up at her, Gueron rose to face her. She continued. “I have it on good authority that if I wait for you to make the first move I’ll be waiting forever. Well, I’ve had the waiting-forever business, and I’m not too thrilled with it. So, I’ve made my move; now, what’s yours? Do I start my sealing gown?”
The silence in the room was complete. Most of the guests were either exchanging glances with each other, or watching their plates, courteously avoiding looking at Gueron, whose hands were clasped tightly behind his back. Boxey was the only one looking at the prospective bridegroom, who was struggling to maintain his already shaky control.
Finally Gueron’s eyes met the child’s curious and amused gaze, and he smiled. “All right, yes. I… yes.” Unable to control himself any longer, he started laughing. “But I swear this is the last time I intend to match myself against a Warrior’s daughter. It’s too hard on the nerves!”