"They're coming in again, Commander! I read a new wave of 75 fighters!"
Apollo didn't respond. There was no more that could be done. All Vipers were engaging the enemy. All ships had their defensive orders, were huddled about the mothership, her shields stretched to contain them all.
"Commander!" Omega insisted.
"I heard you!" Apollo snapped. "No changes. We're going to have to ride this out, hope for a break."
"Sir."
Omega turned back to his screen. Through the commline came staccato bits of communication between the pilots. Urgent and desperate it sounded, reduced to single words and cries. Apollo could pick out Starbuck, Boomer, and Sheba, and was relieved to hear their voices amongst the sudden silences that signalled another death.
"Defensive cannon Alpha 2 hit and disabled!" Athena reported.
"Reroute power," Apollo ordered. "Seal it off."
"Yes, Sir!"
The doors to the Bridge opened, and Apollo knew without looking who'd come on deck. Lukas softly crossed the floor to stand beside him. The young man's dark gaze flickered over the viewscreen, taking in the battle. Apollo watched him out of the corner of his eye, arguing silently with himself over allowing a civilian's presence on the Bridge during an attack. But Lukas wouldn't come up here unless he had something important to say. And he was no ordinary civilian.
And, Apollo had to admit, his gift seemed to be genuine. Over the last yahren Lukas had warned of traps set by the enemy, and had told Apollo where to send patrols to find possible allies and supplies. Lukas had so impressed the Council that they'd made him an official advisor to both them and the Commander. Apollo hadn't welcomed this, but at the same time was more than a little intrigued, and found himself beginning to trust Lukas, ever so slightly.
But then Apollo would pull back. No, can't rely on him, on some unexplainable source of information he claims to have access to. This was war, against an identifiable enemy. Only strategy and well-trained warriors, and maybe a little luck, would win the day.
After the Great Devastation, Lukas had been rescued from a closed religious colony on a small moon orbiting Caprica, the sole survivor. He professed to have foreseen the treachery of Baltar, but his vows had made it impossible to communicate his vision. Lukas admitted that he'd been wrong not to give warning.
"A foolish adherence to a foolish closed system," he said to Apollo. "How could we serve humanity when we were isolated like that? I think about it now, and it makes me so angry. Perhaps all this could have been avoided. I pledged, when I was rescued, that I would never again be silent. My gift must be used to help those around me, especially now, when we are so desperate."
Lukas had free access to all parts of the Galactica, but no security clearances to actually affect ship's systems. Apollo was uncomfortable with the power that the Council had given this man, but Lukas seemed determined not to overstep his bounds, always brought his concerns directly to Apollo, always asked permission to see data files or to speak to a crew member. Begrudgingly, Apollo'd learned to at least listen to and consider everything the young man had to say.
"Commander," Lukas said, still watching the battle, "we need to move away from here."
"Why?"
"I can't give you a clear reason, but I feel a - a presence, closing on us."
"What do you mean, a 'presence'?"
"A malevolent force, like we've never seen before."
Something in the way the young man spoke, in his urgent, yet quiet, tones, made his words always sound absolutely truthful. Even Apollo, the natural sceptic that he was, had a difficulty doubting anything Lukas said. And, in spite if himself, Apollo felt icy fingers of fear run up his spine.
"I need more than that," Apollo said uncertainly. "We're in the middle of a battle."
Lukas leaned close, so that Apollo could feel the warmth of his body. This, too, affected him, the nearness of this strange young man.
"Your nightmare," Lukas whispered, "may become reality if we don't leave this place."
Apollo stared at him, astonished. He'd never told anyone about his recurring dream of the Fleet's destruction, had nearly convinced himself that it was just anxiety from taking over command, a position he was completely unprepared for.
"How do you know about that?" Apollo asked.
"Commander," Lukas said, "in order for me to advise you well I must know your fears and weaknesses. It's difficult to explain, but when you're asleep your mind…unlocks, and I have seen your vision. We must do everything we can to ensure it doesn't happen."
Mindreading? That went too far.
"I won't have my thoughts examined at any time, awake or asleep. Is that understood?" Apollo said, anger now tingeing his words.
"You misunderstand me, Commander."
"I don't think so."
"Commander!" Omega called. "Scanners have picked up something coming towards us!"
"Can you identify it?" Apollo asked, hurrying over to Omega's station.
"Not yet, Sir."
Data scrolled across the screen as the computer struggled to name whatever it was that crossed space directly towards their position. It was large, on par with the Galactica, but the scanners couldn't get a lock on the actual shape of it, for it seemed to shift and change, skewering the readings.
"Captain Boomer to the Commander!"
"Commander here."
"What the hell is on my scanner, Sir?"
"We don't know, Boomer. Can you see anything?"
"No, Sir. But the Cylons are breaking off. I think they want to get away from it, so maybe we should too."
"Do not pursue, Captain," Apollo said. "Stand by for orders."
Apollo turned and looked at Lukas, who nodded gravely. Yes, this was it, the malevolent presence.
"All Vipers, return to the Galactica," Apollo said. "Computer, unicom, all ships."
"Unicom engaged."
"All ships, this is Commander Apollo. Please make preparations for immediate departure. Any damaged vessels unable to comply shall be towed by their nearest operational neighbour. Our heading will be transmitted to you shortly. Commander out."
On the viewscreen now was a starmap, with possible headings outlined by the computer. They needed a safe haven to effect repairs, and, ideally, to take on supplies.
"Heading 463.74," Lukas whispered, suddenly right behind Apollo. "I feel that is the course we should take."
It would take them past a system with five planets, and hopefully one of them would be suitable. Apollo most likely would have chosen that course anyway.
"Helm!" Apollo said. "Course 463.74. Relay it to all ships. Inform them we will be underway in 5 centons."
"Yes, Sir!"
"Colonel Tigh to Commander Apollo."
"Yes, Colonel?"
"All Vipers safely aboard."
"Thank you. Casualties?"
"Fifteen dead, six wounded, Sir."
"All right. Inform Captain Boomer that debriefing will commence at 1645. Commander out."
Safely underway, they quickly distanced themselves from the mysterious vessel, and Apollo felt some of the tension leaving his body as allowed himself to sit down. Lukas hovered nearby, waiting - but for what? Apollo, slightly annoyed, looked over at him. That was what he'd been waiting for. He gave Apollo a small smile, and hurried from the Bridge.
+++++++++++
I'm trapped, Apollo thought, between the known past and the unknown future.
It was truly how he felt, still overwhelmed at times by what had happened to his father, not even a yahren ago, and his own sudden rise to power. Power he never wanted, at least not until he was 50 yahrens old and knew a thing or two about the universe.
Flying blind, not even faith in the Lords of Kobol to guide me…
No, no faith like the old man had. Funny, Apollo didn't even feel his father's presence in the commander's quarters anymore. For a long time it seemed to Apollo that Adama was always looking over his shoulder, but now the rooms were merely silent.
The door chime sounded, snapping Apollo out of his thoughts.
"Come in," he said.
It was Troy, a very welcome visitor. He lived with Athena, now, as she was able to give him all the attention that Apollo couldn't. Command and raising children were at complete odds with each other.
"Hey," Apollo said, feeling as always the painful mix of joy and vague failure at seeing him.
"Hey, Dad."
Gods, he's grown again, Apollo thought, noting the boy's height.
"What can I do for you?" Apollo asked.
Troy shrugged, flopped down on the sofa beside him.
"I'm bored," he said.
Serina's eyes looked up at Apollo from within the boy's face. Grey-green and expressive. He'd almost forgotten how much Troy resembled her.
"You're sure there's nothing wrong?"
"Well…" Troy shifted around. "What's this thing following us, Dad?"
"There's nothing following us."
"Yes there is! Athena told me!"
Apollo sighed inwardly at his sister's indiscretion.
"We saw something during the last Cylon attack," Apollo admitted. "But it's gone."
"What if it's following us out of sensor range?"
"Why are you worrying about this?"
Troy studied his fingers for a moment. "I just want to know what it is," he answered.
"Well, if we see it again, we'll investigate. But we're not going to go looking for it. That'd be a waste of time and energy."
"What does Lukas say it is?" Troy asked, once again turning his sharp gaze upon Apollo, echoing of Serina.
"He doesn't know."
"Well, he should know. It's his job."
"No," Apollo said, unable to keep from smiling, "it's my job."
"Commander Apollo," Tigh's voice came through Apollo's combadge, "please report to the Bridge."
"On my way," Apollo replied.
"You be all right?" he asked Troy.
Another shrug.
"Well," Apollo said, "if you figure out what's really bugging you, come back and see me. But I've got to go right now."
Reluctantly, Troy got to his feet, followed Apollo to the door. In the passageway they parted without another word to each other.
*
"Commander," Tigh said, "two ships are reporting difficulties requiring engine shut-downs. We're going to have to stop, let them make repairs."
"How far are we from that system?"
"Three days."
"How long to they need?"
"Orion's Dream estimates 15 centars, and The Lost Hope, 23."
"Twenty-three!" Apollo exclaimed.
"Captain Shula of The Lost Hope says he warned you this would happen if you kept denying him time to make extensive repairs," Tigh said, a slightly smug look on his face. "Now, all four of his engine coils need refurbishing, not just two."
There were times when Apollo was sure Tigh resented his promotion, and this was one of them. It obviously pleased the Colonel that Apollo'd been caught making a mistake.
"We'll tow them," Apollo said. "We're not stopping. Tell both ships to manoeuvre within range of the tractor beams."
"The Lost Hope is already adrift, Sir," Tigh replied. "In fact, inertia has pulled her out of range."
The whole Bridge crew was listening, ears straining to hear every word. They'd been expecting some sort of a confrontation between Tigh and Apollo, knew it was only a matter of time. This might be it.
But Apollo backed down. He couldn't win here, not like this.
"All right, Colonel. Inform captain Shula that he has 6 centars to get two engines online, and that the resources of the Galactica are at his disposal. Same goes for Orion's Dream. Tell them I promise ample time for repairs once we reach System B-78, but we have to get there first."
"Yes, sir," Tigh said, with a slight bow of his head.
Apollo spun on his heel and walked away. He didn't leave the Bridge, went instead to the Commander's briefing room. But it wasn't empty, as he'd been expecting. Lukas sat at the long table, reading.
"What are you doing in here?" Apollo asked, surprised.
"It's just a quiet spot for contemplation," Lukas replied, hurrying to his feet. "I apologize for the intrusion, Commander -"
"Sit down," Apollo said, waving his hand at him. "What are you reading?"
"The Holy Text, a favourite passage that always helps to orient me."
"Read it out loud," Apollo said, sitting down. "I could use some orienting."
Lukas smiled, looked down at the ancient printed book that had miraculously survived the Great Devastation with him, and said:
"And it is written: nothing exists without it's equal and opposite. Both fire and water, earth and air, wage war against each other, and in their fight lies harmony. So, too, it is with man. Within he can conceive of atrocities, but without he does not commit them. On a bright day, he sees both light and shadow, and chooses his path between them. As a leader, he must seek balance between punishment and reward. Only then, will his soul find peace."
Lukas closed the book, glanced up the table at Apollo. Apollo was resting his head on his hand and had his eyes closed, dozing.
"Well," Lukas said, "I suppose I should be insulted."
Apollo opened his eyes and sat up. "What?" he said.
"You fell asleep during my very stirring reading," Lukas said self-deprecatingly.
"It's not you," Apollo said, "it's the book."
"Well, that makes me feel better."
Lukas got to his feet and walked around the table towards Apollo, stopping beside him.
"Maybe it's not my place to say, Commander," he said, "but you do look tired. You can leave the Fleet in Tigh's capable hands for a while.
"You're probably right."
Lukas put his hand on Apollo's shoulder, then let it move down Apollo's arm a little, like a caress. Apollo held his breath, both attracted and repulsed by this contact. It was too intimate, yet Apollo had the fleeting impulse to keep Lukas in the room, not for this - touching - but maybe just to talk for a while.
"Get some sleep," Lukas said softly, and he was gone.
++++++++++++++++++
Adama was taken from them suddenly. And senselessly.
He was on a shuttle going to the ship Star of Taura when there was a malfunction. The panel that he was sitting beside exploded and he was killed instantly. The pilot was badly injured, but managed to steer the shuttle back to the Galactica where it was dissected, every piece of it carefully examined and tested hundreds - thousands - of times… but in the end, it was nothing more than a random malfunction, a build-up of heat in a faulty power circuit. It couldn't be predicted, and couldn't be guarded against, either.
In other words, it was a senseless accident. And it took the most valuable man in the Fleet. The pilot, Ensign Eyani, survived, but felt that she was to blame somehow, that she should have seen this problem with the shuttle. It drove her literally insane, and one day she hung herself in her little room, escaping once and for all the demons that chased her.
Adama wanted to personally visit all the ships in the Fleet, wanted everyone to feel like they had an equal part to play in this long journey. On the Star of Taura, they had a lavish welcome prepared for him, as they had on every ship he'd been to. The people truly loved Adama, believed that he would get them safely to a new home.
His son they certainly respected, but he didn't share the same passion for this fantastic journey. They knew that, at times, the son had opposed it outright. How could he then become their new leader?
Lukas told them it had to be Apollo. Lukas convinced them that the bloodline mattered, that Apollo's youth shouldn't be held against him. Aren't we all sceptical when we're young? he asked them. Don't we all doubt our elders at one time or another? Apollo, he assured them, was very much his father's son. Have no fear.
Apollo objected. Tigh should be the new Commander, he couldn't jump three ranks like that. And he wasn't ready. He didn't know if he could handle it.
But the Council had also heard Lukas, had listened carefully after ignoring his warnings about Adama's death. And, being aristocrats, bloodlines mattered to them anyway, so they didn't need much convincing.
"This isn't a dynasty!" Apollo cried at them. "You have to do what's best for the people!"
Deaf ears, the decision was already made. Besides, Tigh would be there to help with the transition. Now, Commander Apollo, it was time to address the Fleet...
He had no choice. He addressed the Fleet.
Lukas sought him out, afterwards. Apollo was trying to collect himself, between grief over his father and his sudden promotion, his thoughts were in complete turmoil. He was honestly afraid of this, afraid of the responsibility. The last human survivors, trying to sneak through seemingly endless enemy territory… Apollo had never been afraid of taking charge before, had accepted - hell, expected - that he'd move up in the ranks. But not like this.
"Don't give me some cliché about the best leaders being the ones who don't want any power," Apollo grumbled at Lukas.
"I wasn't going to, Commander. I wanted to say, actually, that I'm sorry all this has happened. I will do anything I can to assist you."
"Oh, I think you've helped out quite enough."
"All right, Commander, I'll leave you alone."
One of Apollo's first duties was deciding who'd be promoted to Captain. He knew Starbuck expected to be. While Apollo respected Starbuck's piloting and combat abilities, he also knew that the Lieutenant didn't have the discipline the Captain's position required. Rational, responsible Boomer was the only suitable candidate.
And hard choices sometimes meant losing friends. Starbuck said he understood why Boomer got promoted, and insisted he wasn't angry. "Look, Apollo," he said, "you had to make a decision, and you made it. I don't want to sit here talking about it 'til my hair goes grey. And you can't be worrying about what we're all gonna think every time you give a directive. Lord knows Adama never did."
A double edged remark, that last part. Both an example and an insult.
Things had never been the same - between Apollo and any of them. The officers easily accepted him as Commander, and recognized that there had to be a distance between them now. At least Adama had had Tigh for a close confidant. Apollo had literally no one. He and Tigh always brought out the worst in each other. They certainly would never be friends.
Then, of course, there was the lingering guilt Apollo felt over his father's death.
He'd also heard Lukas' warning, but there were so many unbalanced people in the Fleet, he was easy to ignore. Lukas had been running a small ministry on one of the outlying ships, counselling the troubled and despairing with words from the Holy Text. His visions had stopped, Lukas said. He thought it was punishment for what he'd known about Baltar and not told. But then, with no warning, it came to him: the Commander lying dead on the floor of a damaged shuttlecraft. Lukas heard about Adama's visit to the Star of Taura, and realized that's when it would happen.
Frantically, he called the Galactica, trying to contact the Commander, or Tigh, or the council members - anyone in authority. Failing that, he came to the Galactica and ambushed Apollo in a corridor. Apollo just stared at this dark-haired man who was almost tearful he was so convinced something was going to happen to the Commander. Apollo actually took Lukas into his own quarters and sat him down, trying to find out where he was from, and where he should be.
"No, you have to listen to me!" Lukas kept insisting. "I had a vision. I've had them before and they always come true. Don't let the Commander go! Trouble with the shuttle - there's something wrong with the shuttle!"
Well, lots of people seemed to have visions, being subjected to so much uncertainty and stress. And it wasn't the first prediction of Adama's death that Apollo had ever heard.
"I'll tell him, okay?" Apollo finally said. "Is that what you want me to do?"
"Yes - tell him not to go!"
"I will. I promise."
But, he never did, never mentioned Lukas' vision to his father, partially because he didn't for one micron believe it, and partially because there were too many other important matters to attend to.
And then, the Commander was dead, due to a defective shuttle.
Apollo tried to tell himself that it was a coincidence, but he failed. He couldn't deny that Lukas had known, and had tried to warn him.
And he had done nothing.
++++++++++++++++++
Apollo struggled desperately to get out from under the toppled console. It was hot, the circuits sizzling, burning him through his uniform. Finally he wrenched himself free, looked down in horror at his right leg, torn, bloodied and blackened.
Fire, all around him, people running trying to put out the flames. People lying all twisted, broken bones and ripped flesh. The view screen flickered between static and the raging, futile battle around the Fleet, the Vipers disappearing one by one, the Cylon Fighters multiplying.
"Commander!"
Lieutenant Rigel materialized out of the smoke. She knelt down by him.
"Sir," she said, her voice shaking with fear. "Two Basestars, coming within range. We've lost helm control, shields are gone - "
"Tell who-ever can move to make a run for it," he said. "We'll try and hold them off."
She shook her head. "Too late, Sir," she said. "It's too late."
On the viewscreen, the Basestars appeared, grew steadily larger as they raced towards the last of the humans.
It was over, the day was lost -
*
"Commander, the time is 0750," said the computer.
Apollo awoke with a start.
"Lights!" he yelled, sitting up.
His heart pounded, and sweat poured down him. He was having trouble catching his breath, drew his knees up and rested his forehead against them.
Itsjustadreamitsjustadreamitsjustadream…
But it never felt like just a dream.
"Bridge to Commander Apollo."
"Go ahead," he said, still all folded up on the bed.
"Good morning, Sir. We have arrived at System B-78."
"Thank you, Rigel. I'll be there shortly. Commander out."
Showered and dressed, he felt steadier, but that dream always really knocked him. He looked at himself in the mirror, at the lines creeping out from the corners of his eyes and across his forehead. He looked older than his 35 yahrens, he was going to age quickly, just as his father had. Soon, his hair would be grey.
And he still wasn't quite used to the navy blue uniform, kept half expecting to see the tan one that he used to wear.
He shook his head at himself. None of this mattered. It was just vanity.
The door chime sounded, signalling the arrival of his breakfast. "Come in," he said.
Athena entered, carrying a tray. Behind her trailed Troy.
"Thought we'd join you for breakfast today," she said, smiling.
"Great," Apollo said.
She used to have breakfast with their father every day, and Apollo knew she missed it. She set out the food and utensils, and they sat down. A bit of fruit, some bread, and a high protein ration bar. Apollo picked up it.
"We're down to using these, are we?" he asked.
"'Fraid so."
Athena poured them each a mug of javjo. Troy sat silently eating, looking down at the table.
"Why are you so quiet?" Apollo asked him.
Shrug.
Apollo sent an inquiring look at Athena. She also shrugged.
"Do I have to eat this?" the boy asked, holding up the ration bar.
"Yes," Apollo and Athena answered at the same time.
"I hate them," he grumbled. "They taste like garbage."
"Listen," Athena said, "your grandfather used to eat those all the time, and he never complained."
"Did he?" Apollo asked, surprised.
"He sure did."
"Why? He didn't have to. Don't tell me he actually liked them."
Athena chuckled. "No. He just thought he should let other people have the good food. I thought he was nuts."
Adama the ultimate humanitarian, setting an example even the privacy of his quarters.
Troy cracked his open and sniffed it, making a face.
"I'm not eating it," he announced.
"Fine," Athena said. "Then don't whine when you're hungry later."
Apollo felt curiously removed. Troy was obviously addressing all his comments at Athena, having transferred his parental allegiance to her. He might still call Apollo "Dad", but it had become an empty title.
Troy noticed Apollo watching him, met his gaze for an instant then looked away again. Those grey-green eyes, disappointed and unhappy…
"Can I go?" Troy asked. "I'm done."
"Yeah, go ahead," Apollo answered.
Troy was up and out the door like a shot.
"What's going on with him?" Apollo asked.
"I don't know," she sighed. "That's why I dragged him here, wanted you to see his performance. Maybe we were fooling ourselves, Apollo, when we thought it wouldn't be too traumatic for him to stay with me."
"It shouldn't have been. He spent a lot of time with you, anyway."
"Yes, but now he's not spending any time with you. And I'm not blaming you, Apollo, there's nothing you can do about it."
"Well, things should be a little quieter for a while. I'll try and talk to him."
Athena nodded, took a sip of her javjo.
"Just, uh, don't make him any promises," she said. "And don't push him."
"I won't."
*
"Initial scans indicate that the fourth planet contains resources we can use," Tigh said. "I recommend we send a survey team to the surface."
Apollo nodded. "Go ahead. No signs of enemy activity?"
"No, Sir. It's like we took off one direction, and the Cylons in the other."
"What about that mysterious vessel?"
"No trace of it," Tigh said. "I've had patrols lagging behind the Fleet with boosted scanners. If it's following us, it's a long ways back."
"Good," Apollo said. "Anything else?"
"The Council is requesting a meeting with you, Sir."
"About what?" Apollo asked, trying to keep the irritation out of his tone.
"They neglected to tell me."
Apollo looked sharply at Tigh, trying to determine if the Colonel was telling the truth. It was a sad state of affairs when you suspected your second of lying to you, but there it was. Apollo didn't like Council meetings, and definitely didn't like being surprised during them. Tigh knew this, used it to his advantage, keeping Apollo slightly off balance.
"When is it?" Apollo asked.
"As soon as possible, at your discretion, Commander. You are to contact Councillor Rebic."
"All right," Apollo said with a sigh. "Thank you, Colonel."
"Sir."
Tigh left the briefing room. Apollo thought about calling Rebic, but decided to put it off as long as he could. He should try to find out what they wanted first.
Maybe Lukas would know. He talked to the Councillors more than Apollo ever did.
"Computer," Apollo said, "locate Special Advisor Lukas."