Part 7 – Life Is For The Living

Tigh paced the bridge, checking his chrono often. It had been nearly a centar already. “We’re running out of time,” he said to no one in particular.

Omega pointed to the monitor at his station. “Dr. Wilker coming on the scanner.”

Tigh walked over as Dr. Wilker appeared. Starbuck, Apollo, and the two Centurions were in the background.

“Colonel, we’re ready, I think.” Dr. Wilker said.

“Think?” Tigh asked.

Apollo walked to the forefront. “Colonel, you have to call off the attack.”

“Apollo -“

“It’s the only chance the have of saving them. Call off the attack and order the shuttle to launch.”

“Adama has personally ordered the assault.”

“And left you in command. Look, I don’t have time to explain, sir. Just call off the attack.”

The expression on Apollo’s face told Tigh that there was something he knew that Tigh didn’t. He looked to Omega, to see if there was more information forthcoming from the bridge officer. Omega just shook his head.

Tigh punched the back of the seat in frustration. If this didn’t work, he would have to answer for violating a direct order of the Commander’s.

The silence in the shuttle was deafening after Baltar’s confrontation with his son. Eastern Alliance Enforcers paced the passenger compartment, but no one spoke. Baltar returned and leaned against the bulkhead. Loraio said nothing, and had failed to lift his head, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone. He knew what they thought of him; it was what he had been hoping to avoid in the sectars since leaving the Colonies.

Finally, Sire Domra broke the silence. “Adama, the Council has taken a vote. It has decided to rescind our edict, extending emergency powers, and giving you full command. I thought you should know.”

Boomer caught the Commander’s eye from the cockpit. Once again the Commander’s judgement had been validated. Only now it may be too late.

Bora strode back into the shuttle. “The Cylon pilots are here.”

“So it begins.” Maga stared at Baltar. “Are you ready?”

Baltar showed him the thermal detonator for the solonite charges.

“Go.” Maga waved at Bora who exited the shuttle, followed by the Easter Alliance Enforcers.

“Wait,” Baltar said. “I want him with me.” He pointed to Loraio.

“No way,” Loraio mumbled. The prior exchange had all but drained him.

“There’s only room for three in the Raider, Baltar,” Adama spoke up. Loraio’s head shot around, surprised to hear the Commander coming to his aid. “Put him on the Alliance ship then.”

“No fracking way. If you’re going to kill these people, you’re going to have to kill me too.”

“Think I won’t do it, boy?” Baltar smiled maliciously, his hands caressing the detonator.

“Maybe I just don’t care anymore.”

Adama’s heart went out to the boy when he heard the despair in his words.

“Leave two Alliance Enforcers on the shuttle,” Maga offered.

“Yes. I’ll take you off when we reach Lunar Seven… before I release the hostages. My son has forced us to change plans, Adama.” Baltar stood over his son, who had his head down once again. “You’re coming with me, be it willingly or forcefully.”

Baltar walked off of the shuttle.

“Launch this shuttle the moment we leave,” Maga said, with the closest thing the Nomen had to a smile appearing on his face.

All the Alliance Enforcers, save two, exited the ship. One was closing the hatch, while the other had his back to the cockpit. The Commander looked at Boomer and nodded his head slightly. The Enforcers had to be neutralized before the attack began.

Loraio saw the exchange between the two men as he finally lifted his head. ‘I’ll be fracked if I’m spending the rest of my life in the Prison Barge because of my father,’ he decided and launched himself at the Enforcer near the hatch.

For a micron the Alliance Enforcers hesitated, knowing that the boy was Baltar’s son. It was all the opening Boomer needed as he grabbed the Enforcer near the cockpit from behind. Sheba whipped off her headset and used the cord around the Enforcer’s neck, choking him while Boomer disarmed the man. Gasping for air he fell to the floor, and Boomer knocked him out with the butt of the rifle.

Loraio’s surprise attack had given him the initial advantage, but he was losing it fast. He was slight, and not trained in any combat or self-defense techniques. The Enforcer managed to raise his rifle slightly, and fired, catching Loraio in the leg.

As he howled in pain and rolled on the floor of the shuttle, he saw the Enforcer drawing the weapon up fully, and pointing it at him. ‘I’m going to die.’

There was a heavy thud, and the Enforcer slumped to the ground. Boomer had run over and used the butt of the confiscated rifle to knock out the other Enforcer.

“Here’s a piece of advice,” Boomer said to Loraio as he picked up the remaining rifle and handed it back to Sheba. “Never trust Council Security to protect you.”

Loraio would’ve said something, but the pain searing through his leg was almost unbearable. Blood spurted out of the wound, and onto the floor of the shuttle. He was in desperate need of medical attention, but that would have to wait until they were safe. One of the nearby flight deck maintenance workers who had also been put aboard the shuttle finally got out of his seat and helped Loraio back into his own seat and buckled him in.

The Council Security Officer on board ignored the obvious jibe and looked out of the portal above his seat. “Launch!” he urged as Boomer and Sheba made their way back to the cockpit. “Launch! Launch, Boomer, Launch!”

Even the Councillors were getting uneasy. Adama rose up out of his own seat and made his way to the cockpit.

“Get me Colonel Tigh on beta channel,” he said.

“Yes sir,” Boomer said. From behind them came more urging to launch.

Adama turned “Silence! Our warriors will be attacking the landing bay in a matter of microns. Prepare to evacuate as rapidly as possible. As soon as we open the hatch.”

Sire Domra turned to Tinia. “They’ll blow us up.”

“It’s the only chance we have,” she responded.

“I have Colonel Tigh, sir.”

Adama turned his attention back to the scanner. “Tigh. Attack now!”

Tigh’s face was strained and stern. “Adama, no time to explain. Launch at once! Repeat, launch at once!”

“It won’t work.” Adama was growing distressed. They were ignoring his direct orders!

“Adama, I’m in command! Launch!”

It was the first time Adama had ever seen Tigh become this authoritarian, especially with a superior officer. Adama indicated to Boomer to obey Tigh’s order, then sat back down to await whatever scenario was about to be played out.

The shuttle launched, followed by the Eastern Alliance Destroyer. Boomer and Sheba watched on their scanner for the Cylon raider to appear, but there was nothing.

“This is Galactica bridge to shuttlecraft. Return to Landing Bay immediately. We have secured the detonator.”

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and several cheers went up. Adama looked over at Loraio, who seemed to have passed out. As the shuttle banked to alter its course and return to the Galactica, a trickle of blood could be seen running across the floor. How much blood had he already lost? “Is he still alive?” He shouted his question to the maintenance worker who had strapped him back in the seat.

“Yes sir,” the worker replied. “Barely.”

“Have a med-tech team waiting for us when we return to the Landing Bay. One injury.”

“And a security team,” Sire Domra intoned. “I want that man arrested!”

“For what? Saving your astrum?” Adama bellowed angrily.

“He is a security risk. How do we know that he wasn’t in collusion with Baltar all along?”

“I think the fact that he is dying, coupled with the family reunion we saw, is evidence enough that he had nothing to do with Baltar’s escape,” Tinia said firmly.

“We don’t know that for sure. It could all be an elaborate performance to throw us off. I want a security team -“

‘He will be in the Life Bay, Sire Domra. I will not arrest him. He will be in no state to go anywhere, if he lives.”

“For Sagan’s sake, Adama, how did he manage to get past your security and get on the Galactica in the first place?”

Adama sighed. A centar hadn’t passed since Sire Domra had said they were restoring full authority to him, and already the questions had begun again.

“He’s a maintenance worker,” the member of the Landing Bay crew said.

All heads turned in his direction.

“Approaching Landing Bay, prepare for landing,” Boomer’s voice came over the intra-shuttle comm-line.

“What’s your name?”

“Stark, sir. I recognize him, he’s one of the Galactica’s maintenance workers. Goes by the name Trev.”

“See?” Sire Domra said triumphantly. “I knew he was deceiving us. There was a purpose to his being in the Landing Bay at this time.”

“Pardon me, Sire Domra, but if Baltar was your father, wouldn’t you try to hide it as much as possible?” Stark asked.

“You are showing disrespect to a superior!” Sire Domra yelled. “I demand he be put on report at once!”

Stark shook his head. “I mean no disrespect, but I know him. He’s no more a threat than any of the other survivors.”

Adama sighed. He remembered granting the young man a furlough just prior to reporting to the bridge. “The only reason he was in the Landing Bay at all was that I had just granted him a furlough,” Adama said evenly. “Now as soon as we land, I want him taken to the Life Bay, and I do not want him arrested or a security team anywhere within range of him.” His voice had risen near the end, and the tone was one that implicitly stated there would be no further discussion of the matter. “Arrest these two Enforcers, but that is all. They can return to the Prison Barge with Baltar, if he is still alive.”

Deep down, he was hoping to hear upon landing that Baltar had perished in whatever actions had been taken. It would solve a lot of problems. Silence descended upon the shuttle as they felt contact with the Landing Bay below them. Adama sighed deeply. Hatred and anger were not emotions he liked. ‘Lords, forgive me for my thoughts,’ he prayed silently. All human life was supposed to be sacred, even that of Baltar. It was not for one human to decide when another should die. More than once, this man in particular had brought out those thoughts in Adama.

The problem remained of what to do with Loraio/Trev, should he live. Baltar was right about one thing, that his acceptance in the Fleet was uncertain, at best.

Apollo, Starbuck and Colonel Tigh were waiting to greet them once the shuttle had returned. As the hatch was opened, blood trickled down the platform. Alarmed, the three men raced inside.

The floor of the shuttle was fairly coated in a thin sheen of blood, especially near the hatch. They were relieved to see Adama unharmed as he stood up. A med-tech team entered the shuttle and headed for the injured Colonial. Apollo turned his head and was surprised to see that he recognized the young man.

“I take great joy in turning Command of the Galactica back over to you!” Tigh said. “Welcome back, Commander!”

“Thank you Tigh.” Adama shook his hand and then was about to ask what had happened, when the med-techs loaded Loraio onto a med-trans and whisked him off the shuttle. They carefully stepped through the blood on the floor, which had made it slippery and coated the bottoms of their boots.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much blood,” Starbuck murmured as they walked off.

“What have you done to him?” a familiar voice hissed at them. Baltar stood not too far away from the shuttle, and had apparently seen his son was whisked out of the Landing Bay.

“We have done nothing, Baltar,” Adama’s tone was even, though he wanted to shout at this man the same way he had seen him shout at his son. “It was your friends, the Alliance Enforcers. Loraio is a hero. He jumped one of them and allowed us to overpower both of them by his actions. In the process, he was shot by one of them in the leg.”

‘Will he live?”

“I don’t know, Baltar. Maybe you should’ve let your paternal concern show earlier. This unfortunate incident wouldn’t have occurred. Remove him to the Prison Barge, along with the two Enforcers.” Adama paused a moment. “And make sure this area is cleaned up.”

Apollo followed his father as they walked across the Landing Bay. “What are you talking about Father? Do I understand you that Trev is responsible for saving the lives aboard the shuttle?”

Adama turned to his son. “You know him?”

“I’ve met him several times. He seems to carry a great burden on his shoulders for someone so young.”

“His real name is Loraio.” Adama took a deep breath. “And that great burden is that he is Baltar’s son.”

“Baltar’s son?” Apollo could not believe what he was hearing.

“Yes. I want to check on him in the Life Bay.”

“I’ll come with you.”

They rode the lift and walked to the Life Bay in silence. All the while, Apollo’s mind was reeling. He could not ever recall having heard about Baltar’s son. There had been a daughter, but never a word about a son. Indeed, when he had taken Baltar aboard a shuttle to lure Karibdis into giving himself away, Baltar had referred to Karibdis having feelings for him “akin to that of a son for a father”.

And he knew Trev… well, somewhat. His assurance that he knew how to keep a secret when they were in the Celestial Dome took on a whole new meaning. “I never knew Baltar had a son,” Apollo finally stated as the entered the lift for the trip to Life Bay.

“It’s a surprise to me as well,” Adama said. “I used to see his daughter accompanying him, but never a son. From what I saw take place on the shuttle, I don’t think they got along very well.”

“He never mentioned anything about his family in the little I’ve spoken to him,” Apollo admitted. “I took it for granted that he had lost everyone in the Destruction.”

“Imagine how he felt, knowing his father was responsible for all of that.”

“I can’t imagine it.”

They exited the lift and continued silently down the corridor until they reached the Life Bay. Dr. Salik and Cassiopeia were fervently working on the young man in the same Sterile Room Adama had been operated on. They walked over to the clear window that separated the Sterile Room from the rest of the Life Bay. The Doctor was running instruments over the area of his leg where the Enforcer had shot him. Loraio was hooked up to several machines that were, in all likelihood, keeping him alive at the moment.

Apollo and Adama watched the action for quite some time until Dr. Salik finally exited the room. “It doesn’t look good, Adama.”

“How bad is he?”

“Currently we are keeping him alive, but I honestly don’t know for how long. I’ve never seen anyone lose that much blood and survive… yet he’s still alive.”

“Isn’t there anything you can do?”

“We’ve got him on support, and we’ll be infusing him with new blood plus meds to help his own body resupply itself. Cassie is finishing up cauterizing the original wound. There’s some nerve damage in the leg. If he survives the initial loss of blood – and that’s a big if – I’ll administer a nerve regenerator to see if we can save the leg.”

“Thank you doctor,” Adama said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Keep me advised of his condition, and if anyone tries to have security placed anywhere near the Life Bay, I want to hear of it.”

“Security?”

“He’s Baltar’s son,” Apollo chimed in, looking at the young man in the Sterile Room. It reminded him so much of when Serina had died. Only then, it had not been a loss of blood, but the fact that she had taken the energy discharge so close to so many vital organs.

Dr. Salik was surprised. “I would love to hear the details of this Adama, but I want to make sure he’s stable.”

“I understand, Doctor. When you have the time, I’ll gladly fill you in.”

Dr. Salik walked back into the Sterile Room. For several centons, Adama and Apollo stood silently watching Loraio as the machines helped him breath. Without another word, Adama departed the Life Bay.

Alone with his thoughts, Apollo wondered how Loraio had managed to silently carry such a burden for so long. His mind could not comprehend what it would be like to be in his place.

Loraio had the sensation of swimming… swimming for long distances under the water and not being able to reach the surface. Was he in the brownish-green oceans of his native Pisceria? Or one of the more tropical, lush planets he had visited in his youth. No, he was certain it was the oceans of Pisceria. The water was murky, as Pisceria’s oceans had been. He swam and swam and swam. He didn’t seem to get tired, and it didn’t seem to get any harder. Something was in his mouth, helping him to breathe. Every stroke, every breath came to him quite easily.

It seemed as if he were swimming for days on end, but that couldn’t be. No one could stay under the water for such a long time. Still, he was certain he had been under the water longer than humanly possible.

And not once did thoughts of his father enter his mind.

Cassiopeia watched the readouts from the instruments that were hooked up to the young man, keeping him alive. Dr. Salik had been sure the first day that he would lose his patient, but Loraio was young and strong. His body had surprisingly survived the loss of blood. He had stabilized after about twenty centars. Since then, his condition had neither improved nor gotten worse.

No one was permitted to see him for long periods, but there had been quite a few visitors over the last few days. The IFB was, of course, looking for a full report. Cassiopeia and Dr. Salik had both refused to comment on his condition. Instead, they had put together a sensationalized report with no basis in fact. The people who knew Loraio had refused to comment.

His former superior on the Orion, Odan, had been over to see him, along with several of the workers in its Childcare Center, and some of his fellow maintenance workers from the Orion. All were permitted only to look at him briefly. A woman who only gave her name as Daria had come in. She had told Cassie she had met him right after the Destruction. They had talked for some time, and like all of his other visitors, the people who had met him, who knew him seemed to harbor no anger or hatred at Baltar’s son.

Langley and Stark had visited from The Galactica’s maintenance crew. Adama had made it a point to visit the young man once a day. On his orders, reports of Loraio’s condition were sent back to the Prison Barge. Whether or not Baltar chose to read them was his own choice. Apollo had been by several times as well.

Today seemed to be a quiet day as far as visitors went. As she monitored the equipment, she took the time to catch up on some paperwork. Dr. Salik was visiting one of the other ships in the fleet, taking care of some of the people who needed to be monitored due to various health conditions. If she needed to, she could page him back to the Galactica and he would be here in less than thirty centons.

Suddenly, when she looked up to check on the patient, she saw his eyes were open. Thinking it was the angle she was viewing him at, Cassie got up and walked towards him. His eyes met hers as she walked nearer to the bed.

“You can’t talk,” she said gently and soothingly. “So don’t even try. I’m going to take some blood and see what the gas levels are before I can take the breathing tube out.”

Loraio felt nothing as his blood was withdrawn. Cassie took it to a medical scanner and was pleased to see that the oxygen levels were within normal range. It was enough that he should be able to breathe on his own.

“I’m going to take this out. Try to relax. I know it’s difficult.”

Loraio gagged and then coughed as the tube was removed. “Water?” he croaked. His entire body felt weak, as if just trying to sit up would completely exhaust him.

Cassie gave him a small sip of water. “I’m going to call Dr. Salik back to the Galactica. I’ll be right back,” she reassured him.

Loraio laid there for a while. He was alive, but he was not certain yet if that was a good or bad thing. There were no shackles on him, and no guards standing nearby. It could be just that he was in such a weakened state that no one believed he could go anywhere.

And where could he go? Thoughts of finding sanctuary on Terra had been dashed, thanks once again to his father.

“How do you feel, Loraio?” Cassiopeia asked as she walked back over to him.

“Like a drowned daggit.”

Cassie smiled warmly. “You’ve been unconscious for three days.”

“How come I can’t feel anything in my leg?”

Cassie’s face grew serious. “The leg you were shot in?”

Loraio nodded.

“There’s some nerve damage. We had to wait for you to become conscious again before we administered a nerve regenerator.”

“But the longer you wait the less likely it will work.”

Cassie was surprised that he knew so much about laser injuries, and it showed on her face.

Loraio shrugged slightly. “In my previous life, as Baltar’s fracked-up son, I spent time at our local sanatorium. Actually thought about becoming a doctor, but he wouldn’t have that, you know.” There was a biting edge to his voice, still raspy from having the tube in his throat.

“Loraio…”

He turned his head. “I’m going to lose my leg, aren’t I?”

“We have to see. Dr. Salik is on his way back, and he’s treated quite a few laser injuries.”

Bitterness had crept into his expression, and he turned his head from Cassie, as if she wouldn’t see the tears that were forming in his eyes.

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