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Nov. 9th, 2006 06:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cybermathwitchReally down and dirty here - and I mostly mean the grammar and editing (or lack thereof) and not porn. Though there is a porn section. You've all been warned.
What I need from you all is opinions on the broad strokes. The story itself, not the spelling or grammar or such (as it is NaNoWriMo and editing at ALL is a sin until December). But I'm starting to question what the frak I'm doing and why and how and I need ideas, suggestions, and just general rah-rah speeches I think.
“All of this has happened before, and all of this will happen again.”
Beyond the people, beyond the gods, there is Ananke. Necessity. The serpent that twists herself around unrelenting time and all the worlds and determines how it will all be shaped.
There is a pattern that was concieved long before the Gods were brought into being, and that will exist long after they’re /they are all forgotten. Even they must abide by it, follow it, and be part of it.
The pattern is repeated over and over again, with endless variation, but obvious commonality.
Every so often, certain souls (beings /people) are given a glimpse of the pattern.
*****
PRESENT
*****
It should have been a simple landing. There were no Cylons, no nukes, just a successfully quiet CAP run during the third shift watch.
No one was entirely sure at first what it was that went to so horribly wrong.
“Are you alright in there, Captain?” Kelly asked Kara/ Starbuck over the intercom.
“Fine. What’s the hold up?”
“Something’s jammed in the lift. We’re taking care of it as quickly as we can - someone’s already gone to wake the Chief.”
“Great,” she said sarcastically. “How long am I looking at being down here?”
Kelly sighed. “A half hour maybe? We won’t know for sure until-”
BOOM
Fire lit up the sensors as something exploded on the Viper.
Lee/ Apollo jerked around when he heard the sound, just in time to see flame in the launch tube window.
*****
They were trying to pry off the cock-pit canopy when they realized that the ammunition heated to critical levels. The reserve ammo in the left wing exploded, knocking Lee, the Chief, and Hot Dog to the ground. Tyrol levered himself up, dazed, and could hear people calling out warnings, and the hissing of fire suppression hoses being turned on them. He tilted his head to the left and saw Lee, not moving (unmoving?).
“Commander!” He called out, but it turned into a coughing fit as he tried to breathe in the mess of chemicals and smoke that was filling the chamber. “Help! Get a med team!” he croaked, just before blacking out.
*****
Adama was down in sickbay only seconds behind the emergency team’s arrival. “What the hell is going on?” he bellowed at Cottle as soon as he saw him.
“I’ve got several people with smoke inhalation and varying degrees of injuries, and beyond that, I don’t know yet. You’ll be briefed as soon as I have more information, but for now get the frak out of my way and let me triage my patients!”
*****
The Chief was suffering from smoke inhalation, but had been released into Cally’s care. Hot Dog had similar effects, and some light burning on his hands from struggling with Kara’s cockpit.
*****
“How are they?”
“I’ve got them both on the table right now, but it’s touch and go. They’ve both lost a lot of blood. We’re trying to find donors, but they’re both AB-.” Cottle looked at Adama expectantly.
Adama pressed a hand over his eyes. “I’m not a match. I’ll have Gaeta put a call out to all the fleet.”
“I’ll keep doing what I can here, but I’m hesitant to do much more without a supply of blood to give them.”
“Do what you can. I trust you know what they mean to me, and to this fleet?”
“I’m not blind. Or stupid. I’m going to do all that I can.”
“That’s all I can ask.”
*****
IN THE VOID
*****
She’s herself, but not. She doesn’t recognize where she is, and she isn’t sure who she is - and she knows her name isn’t really Kara, but it’s all she remembers.
Slowly, she remembers fractures of things.
*****
REGENCY
*****
She was raised by her father, on Kobol. Her mother, she’s always been told, died when she was born. An only child, she was the apple of her father’s eye. He was an accomplished military leader and strategist, and as a child she was always fascinated by the figures lining the stacked rank and file on the oversized table in his “war room”. The important men in the elaborate uniforms would come to dinner and then they would cloister themselves away in the office. If she was very, very quiet, and very, very good, she could sit in the corner and listen. And watch. And learn.
And when she was older, she started asking questions. “What was this?” “What did this it mean?”
When she came of age, instead of being debuted to society, her father took her to her first official war council. It was several sessions before she ventured her own suggestion for a particularly problematic maneuver, and several more before the seasoned Admirals, Commanders, Majors and Captains actually considered her suggestions. But slowly and surely her suggestions ideas were accepted, and even implemented. She gained the respect of those who spoke with her, even as she was veiwed askance by society as a whole. It was A woman of such a demeanor, a disposition, with such skills was not well understood.
Her father once expressed concern and regret about how he’d raised her - her response had been swift and decisive, just like her strategies. She was happy with her skills, her training and her lot in life. She had no desire to catch an “appropriate match” and spend her remaining years bearing and raising children. So she continued to her unusual life.
*****
Costas Agaros regarded the young woman seated across from him at the dinner table. “An excellent meal, as always, my Lady.”
“Thank you. I do my best.” She smiled, and it was artless. Genuine. Terribly unlike all the other women he knew. He’d learned quickly that his Commander’s daughter was unique, outspoken, and dangerously brilliant. She had taken to him immediately, and he to her. He was fairly certain that at least part of it was his lack of reluctance to listen to her ideas. It had to be fairly novel for her to not have to defend herself all the time. He’d tried his best to put her at ease. In doing so, what had started out as a way to get closer to her had blossomed into a genuinely good and close friendship - one he wished he was in a position to take further. Family obligations, however, prevented him from proposing to any woman, and certainly not to one of her station - even if she had disdained society’s rules and rituals.
“You certainly do. Will your father be joining us after dinner?”
“Perhaps. It will depend on how rested he is.”
“How bad has it been?” He’d wanted to ask for days, but this was the first time they’d found a moment alone, and he didn’t dare bring it up around the others.
“Bad. His heart is failing, and he knows it is. The medicines aren’t helping much anymore. It’s really only a matter of time. A relatively short time, I’m afraid.”
He reached a hand across the table and took hers. While there was an undercurrent of heat, it was subtle, and easily deferred given the circumstances. “Whatever you need, Kara. Whatever I can provide-”
“I know. But I’ll be fine. He’s made sure that the wills are iron clad. I’ll be in good straights.”
“But you’ll miss him.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Of course. But I’ll survive. We’ve... talked about it, extensively. We’ve said the things we need to say to one another. I’ll be sad, but it will be alright.”
He admired her strength above all else. He was quickly coming to the point of admitting that it was one of the reasons he loved her.
Because the talk was making her maudlin, he changed the subject. “When will the others be arriving?”
“Any time now. I told them after the dinner hour, and it’s nearly half past that.” She rose from the table as he did and they started towards the large study.
“Have you heard anything else from Martos about the new man he’s bringing?”
“Only that he’s one of the youngest to achieve the rank of Captain, and Martos thinks he’s brilliant. I’m reserving judgement on that. Martos has a tendency to be overly hopeful about his pupils.”
“I wonder how he’ll react to you?” It was one of Costas’s favorite games, trying to guess how other Officers would respond to the beautiful, firey woman who was the star of the strategy room.
“I don’t. He’ll be like every other man to cross that threshhold. It’ll take me weeks to prove myself to him, and then he’ll treat me like I’m some kind of Carnivale attraction.”
“Not every man.”
She smiled at him. “No. Not every one of them. But you, my dear, are the exception to all the rules.”
“No, I believe that would be you.”
*****
She felt him when he walked in the door. It sounded strange, and irrational to her, but the electricity that arced up her spine shiver that ran down through her center was real.
Then He walked into the room.
He was tall, and dark like most of the men, his hair cut in the short military style, and his uniform polished and perfect - the image of the perfect officer. But it was his eyes that took her breath away. She’d always dismissed the ideas of love at first sight as ridiculous - the dreams of those vapid society maids that tried every last ounce of her patience - but she had no words for her reaction to him.
It scared her like nothing else ever had.
She only had one defense when she was scared, and that was to be cutting. Dryly quick witted and cold. It was her armor and it fit her comfortably. So she schooled her face into business-like lines and went to greet her new guest.
*****
The house was in one of the older neighborhoods, and was quietly wealthy, much like his own family’s.
“Are you alright, Captain?” Major Martos, his mentor and immediate superior asked with some small amusement in his voice. The older man smoothed his uniform jacket as he stepped out of the carriage.
He quickly regained his bearing. He wasn’t sure what had unsettled him about the house. “Of course, sir. Fine.” He had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that something monumentous was about to happen to him.
They were greeted at the door by a butler, then escorted to a large study towards the back of the house. He inventoried the people inside the room, starting with the High Admiral
They rose
*****
“How did you become involved in this? It’s not exactly standard a normal thing for a woman to be doing.”
“My father. I was his only child, and after my mother died, I was all he had, so he indulged me. It was a way for us to spend time together. And I have a knack for it.”
“That’s one way of putting it. The troop arrangement at Kaikos was brilliant. A lot of men survived that day.”
“I’m glad, though that wasn’t my end goal. I’m no soft-hearted woman, Captain. I understand that sometimes sacrifices have to be made to succeed, and please don’t think that I wouldn’t be willing to send men to their deaths if that’s what it took to keep this empire safe.” She’d stopped and turned so she was looking him straight in the eye. It was startling, as much so as her words. Women often glanced and fluttered, gazed and flirted, but never met him eye to eye like Kara she did.
“That’s... good to know... ma’am. I’m sorry, I’m not really sure how I should be addressing you. Most women I call ‘miss’ but that doesn’t seem to fit you.”
She smiled. “You can call me Kara.” Or Miss
*****
"Why are you here?"
"I wanted to see you," he smiled, but it turned to a frown when she ducked away.
"You shouldn't be here." She turned to head back into her study, but he grabbed her arm. "Kara. Wait - what's wrong?"
She turned back and her eyes closed as she tilted her head in a slow shake. "We can't keep doing this Lee. I can't keep doing this anymore."
It hit him like a sucker-punch to the gut. "I don't understand."
She gave him a look. "You're married. I'm involved, and we've been sneaking around like we're children. We're not - and no matter how I feel about you, no matter how we feel about each other, it isn't right."
"This is because I married Lena?"
"It's about all sorts of things."
"No. No, just stop a minute. I was betrothed to her. Before I even met you, I was betrothed to her, and it was my duty to her that we marry."
"I'm not stupid. I understand how society works, even if I'm not a part of it. I'm not acting out some jealous fit. I know exactly why you married her, when but you did marry her. I'm not punishing you for that. I'm facing the facts of my life. I'm not leaving Costas, either - I don't want or expect you to leave Lena. But she deserves your attention, and your affection. It's no more her fault than it is yours what your parents and society dictate, and she shouldn't be punished for it. Just like he deserves mine," she finished quietly. He'd moved to stand toe to toe with her and was looking at her in a way that made her warm and uncomfortable all at the same time. It was intense.
"I'm in love with you. You, not Lena. I'd leave her if I could, but it's too late. At least you and Costas aren't married." The other man's name was bitter on his tongue.
"Things between us are... complicated." She was shaking inside from his revelation. She'd known, but he'd never said it. They'd both been so careful not to say it, because it would have made it too real.
"Do you love him?"
"Of course I love him."
"Are you in love with him, like you are with me?" He knew, she realized, how she felt about him, just as surely as she knew his feelings for her. They hadn't been hiding any of the things they'd thought they were hiding. Not from each other - maybe not from anyone else, either.
"Who else knows? Who else realizes?" Panic threaded into her voice.
He grabbed her upper arms roughly. "That doesn't matter right now. Right now is about you and me, Kara. Are you in love with him?"
"No," she whispered. They were looking into each other's eyes again, and she knew she could get lost inside of him. It was a potential loss of control that scared her.
“I want you. I need you in my life, however I can have you.”
*****
He was straightening his shirt and shrugging on his uniform jacket when she found the nerve to tell him.
“Lee.”
He stopped and turned back to her. She was sitting half-way up in the bed leaning up on one elbow and holding the quilts around herself with her other hand, like she was cold, or scared. She looked so young for a moment, and vulnerable - nothing like the strong, no-nonsense, capable woman he was used to. He knew he was one of the very few people to ever see this side of her, and he respected it. Sometimes he feared it.
“What’s wrong?”
She took a breath. “I’m pregnant.”
The world stood still. Then it started spinning again, more forcefully, and he nearly staggered. “What?”
“I’m pregnant.” She sat up a little bit straighter and let the blanket drop. It bared her breasts, but it wasn’t a movement intended to seduce or arouse. Rather she was steeling herself and letting go of her fear - putting her vulnerable side away and arming herself for confrontation (conflict? battle?).
He wasn’t sure which end was up, but it the first words that came out of his mouth he regretted instantly. “Is it mine?”
Her face fell and grew dark.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what-”
“Costas has been away for five months. What exactly are you implying.”
“I know - I know - I’m sorry, I didn’t mean... I just... I didn’t think about the time frame for a second there.”
She wasn’t pacified by his explanation, but
*****
RAISED TOGETHER
*****
Lee remembered the day his father brought the little girl home. He was ten at the time. His father showed up to dinner with the little blonde girl in tow and announced she would be living with them from now on. He can’t remember her name now, but he thinks can only think of her as Kara, just like he can only remember himself as Lee.
He came to find out later that her parents had been killed in a crash, and his parents were her god parents. She’d grown up in on another world, Tauron. He and his family lived on Picon. But when her parents had died, their will had stated that she go come to live with them.
So then he had a sister.
He hadn’t really wanted a sister.
He’d liked being an only child, had liked having his things his own way, and had liked being the center of attention. That all changed when Kara came into his life.
She was quiet and withdrawn. For the first several weeks she was there, she stayed locked in her room except for meals.
It was the rainy season on Picon, and for the three and a half months of monsoons all the children were giving a vacation from school, so she they didn’t have anywhere to go anywhere.
He ignored her for the first several days, but she fascinated him. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to leave the only home he’d ever known, the only family he’d ever had, and move to somewhere completely new. Tauron was a dusty, desert-like world, while Picon was a lush tropical place. The idea of traveling fascinated him too, even though he was terrified by the idea of losing his family.
*****
He was the first person that managed to get her to eat. It set a pattern for their relationship.
Everyone knew she wasn’t eating, although he was pretty sure she thought she was hiding it. His mother noticed the that the food on her plate wasn’t really disappearing, just moving around, and his father noticed that her snacks ended up in the trash more often than not. Lee knew this because he overheard them talking about it one night after they thought he was in bed. He also knew that they weren’t planning on asking her about it directly, but instead were hoping it would be a phase she would get over when she got hungry enough.
For some reason, Lee didn’t think so. Something told him that the little girl was dead serious about her fast and it wouldn’t just go away. So he did the only thing that he could think of.
He asked her about it, point blank.
***
He knew she would be up in the tree at the far corner of their lot because he’d seen her up there everyday each day since she’d been there. He hadn’t approached her before, because he’d known she’d wanted to be alone. You didn’t climb as high up as you could get on the farthest point from people because you wanted to talk to them. He’d respected that, and had given her the space he’d thought she wanted.
But today he decided enough was enough. He grabbed a couple apples and hiked his way over the hilly yard until he was standing at the base of the tree. After shoving an a piece of the fruit into each of his pockets he levered himself up onto one of the branches and started his way up the tree.
“Go away.”
He ignored her order, and countered with a question of his own.
“Why aren’t you eating?”
She looked down at him sharply. “I don’t know What are you talking about?”
“You’re not eating. You haven’t since you got here. I was just wondering why?”
She chewed on her lip in a gesture of indecision, like she wasn’t sure if she was going to deny it, or if she was going to tell him he could go to Tartarus. Finally she settled on something and responded with, “None of your business. Why should you care, anyway?”
He reached the limbs right across from her and pulled himself up into a sitting position on a in the crux of two branches. “Because I’m worried about you.”
She looked at him suspiciously. “Why?”
“I dunnow. But I am. So’re mom and dad.”
She pulled in on herself a little bit. “They’re not my mom and dad. They’re my godparents. And I didn’t even know them before last week.
“Tauron’s a long way away. I heard them talking about it - they didn’t like not getting to see you and your parents, but they couldn’t make it all the way out there. Something about the money, I guess.”
“Looks to me like they have enough money.”
“We get by. But it’s nothing special. We only have the house because it was my granddad’s and he’d paid off the morttage.”
“Mortgage.”
“Whatever. Why aren’t you eating?”
“Because they can’t,” she said quietly, so quietly he wasn’t sure at first that he’d heard her.
“Because who can’t?”
“My parents. They don’t eat anymore, because they’re dead. The only thing the dead eat is blood.”
“So why shouldn’t you be eating? You’re not dead.”
“Because I want to be. I don’t like it here - I wanna be with my mom and dad.”
“How’d they die?”
“The police said a car hit theirs when they were on their way to pick me up.”
“That’s rough.”
“It’s my fault.”
“No it’s not.”
She looked up, and there was anger in her eyes. “Yes it is. Of course it is. They were coming to get me. If they hadn’t...”
“Where were you?”
She wrapped her hands around the branch in front of her and he could see that her knuckles were white, she was holding on so hard. “I was at the bus station. I’d try tried to run away.”
“Why?” He was patient. He was good at being patient, all his teachers had told his parents so. He was happiest when he was sitting still and absorbing things - books, movies, or people. It was unsettling to some, and he’d never had many friends because of it. But in situations like this, it was a perfect talent.
“Because they were fighting. About me. I’d gotten in trouble at school for doing stupid stuff and not paying attention and they were mad. I thought if I’d just leave, they’d stop being wouldn’t have a reason to be mad anymore. So I ran away.”
“And they were coming to get you? How’d they know where you were?”
“I didn’t have enough money for a ticket. And I was cold, and hungry, and tired. It was late.” She was crying now, big, fat tears, but her voice was strong and even. “So I called them to come and get me.”
“They didn’t want you to be cold and tired and lonely. They loved you.” He said it with all the certainty a ten year old could muster, and he meant it. He was sure of it, just like he was sure his parents loved him. “They didn’t want you to be hungry. Why would they want you to be hungry now?”
She just looked at him. She blinked slowly, and he dug one of the apples out of his pocket. “Here. I brought one for each of us. If you want to, we can leave a peice on the ground for your parents like they do in Temple.”
Cautiously, slowly, she reached out her hand. She took the apple and stared at it for long moments, before falling on it and tearing out a big bite.
She ended up eating both the apples he’d brought - when she was done with the first he produced the second without her even asking for it - and they left two peices and the cores at the base of the tree like they’d seen the Priests and Priestesses do with the animal bones and fat in the Temples on Feast days.
That night she ate almost all her dinner, but made sure to leave a tiny bit of each thing behind. If Lee’s mother noticed, she didn’t comment, and it became her ritual, her personal prayer. To the best of his knowledge, she never told anyone, anyone except him what it meant to her. But it was the first step in a long walk towards a new family.
*****
The first time she was remembers being jealous was the day she stepped into the old farmhouse. She watched the man - her godfather, she tried to remind herself - scoop his son up in a hug and knew her father would never hug her again. And she was jealous of the little boy.
The second time she remembers being jealous was about Lee too. It was the day he brought home his first girlfriend.
She was 14 and didn’t understand how she was feeling at first. She’d seen people talk about dating in books and movies, but now Lee was 15 and he was allowed. And Sisters weren’t supposed to be jealous of their brother’s girlfriends.
But they weren’t really siblings.
But That didn’t matter. They were family in the eyes of the Gods, according to the Laws. He was her brother in everything but blood and she shouldn’t wish that it was her he was sneaking out into the backyard with, that it was her he was kissing - and wasn’t kissing a revelation to see someone her own age doing, for real - that it was her he loved.
Of course he loved her. He told her he loved her all the time.
As a brother. Because she was his sister.
Not really.
*****
He really hadn’t noticed that Kara was a Girl. Not a girl with a capital “G”, at any rate. (in any case?). He’d ignored that she was growing up and wasn’t the gangly blonde tomboy that he’d been living with. Then “TIMING” had decided to wreck havoc with his life, and he’d walked upstairs and into the hall bathroom - which he would swear for the rest of his life had been open, just as she would swear that it had been closed - just as she was stepping out of the shower, giving him a full frontal view of her buck naked.
He’d turned red, gaped, and opened and closed his mouth a few times in shock before turning tail and slamming into his room across the hall, banging the door shut behind him. For her part, she’d stood there in shock, towel hanging uselessly from her hand as a flush crept up her whole body.
For weeks afterward, her image slid unbidden - and sometimes called - into his mind, and his dreams. His mother didn’t comment on the how often he was changing his sheets, and for that he was grateful. He felt guilty about it all, beyond the simple embarassment of being a teen. She was his best friend, and completely forbidden. And he loved her, but he’d never realized - never thought about her growing up and becoming a woman.
But she certainly was now. He’d seen that first hand.
*****
“I think you’re just a little bit drunk.”
“Me?” he gasped, even as he tilted dangerously, “I’m drunk? What about you?”
She laughed, that full, all out laugh that he loved so much. The one that said that she didn’t care what the people around her thought - she was happy and she was enjoying / going to enjoy herself. She flopped onto her back on the floor next to the couch and before he could brace himself she reached up and jerked him off and onto the floor next to her.
He was close enough to breathe in the smell of her shampoo and lotion. It wasn’t flowery - it was more herbal, simpler. Just like she was. She’d been using the same combination for years, and it had been driving him crazy almost as long as girls had driven him crazy.
“What’re you doing?”
Alcohol loosened his tongue and dulled his sense of self-restraint. control. “Smelling you.”
She raised up on one elbow to look down at him. “Smelling me?”
“You smell good,” he answered, and leaned closer to sniff at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.
“Knock it off!” she laughed, and shoved half-heartedly at his head. Then she cocked her head and regarded him seriously for a minute. “You like the way I smell?”
“I’ve always liked it.”
“When/ Why have you even noticed the way I smell?”
“For years and years.”
“What!?”
“It’s not like it was easy to avoid! You’ve lived right next to me for years!”
“You never told me.” She was leaning over him now, one hand planted on either side of his head. It was a short distance for his hands hand to lift up and touch her gently on her side.
Her voice dropped, became huskier as he touched her. “What are you doing?”
“Touching you.” And his voice was pitched to match.
Something settled over them. It was a peace, a calm that they rarely shared. They were always something vivid. Laughing, fighting, crying - but rarely were they peaceful.
It shouldn’t have been a peaceful moment as he lifted his mouth until it was a breath away from hers. It was forbidden, it was wrong, and it was one of the most emotionally and hormonally charged things he had ever done.
It was the alcohol. That’s what they would both tell themselves later, but at that moment, they saw each other.
“What-”
“Shhh.” He laid a finger against her lips and her eyes widened. Then he replaced his finger with his lips and her eyes slipped closed. He rose up, his hand one hand threading through her hair at the base of her neck to pull her closer and the other pushing against the floor to raise himself up to her.
A meeting of mouths was followed by racing hands and piece by piece their clothes were pulled, tugged, and stripped off. He got his first glimpse of her since that night after the game when he’d watched her change. He’d had no idea that he could get any harder than he already was, but he did. He thought he would come just from looking at her. “Gods I want you,” he hissed when they broke apart for air.
“We shouldn’t do this,” she whispered. “We’re family, we’re not-”
“We’re not blood. There’s no sin here,” he said softly as he pushed her hair back from her face. “I love you.”
Her eyes widened. “Of course you do. I love you too -”
“I’m in love with you.”
His world stopped. He realized just what it was he’d said, but it was too late to take it back. And it was all true. He was in love with her. He’d been in love with her for years, maybe in some way since the day she’d walked into his home, a sad lost shadow behind his father.
She looked confused, unsure of what she should say or how she should respond, so he saved her. “Don’t say anything back. Just be with me tonight. Please? If you don’t feel this way, then we’ll stop, but-”
“No.” she looked him in the eye. “Don’t stop. Please. I want you, too.”
He kissed her, almost violently as fantasy and reality blurred. His hands spanned her waist, then one slid back to cup her buttock and the other slid up to caress her breast. She He caught her nipple between his fingers and squeezed and she pulled her mouth away to gasp in air.
“Oh, frak that’s good. Gods,” she hissed, as he did it again, and raked his nails across her ass through her jeans. Her own hands fumbled at his button and zipper, then abandoned them and started to tug at his shirt. “Off. Off, off off,” she chanted, and he obliged her before reaching down and unfastening his own jeans himself and pushing them down his hips. He stood and looked down at her, bare from the waist up as she lay propped up on the floor like some sculpture.
“Gods, you’re gorgeous. Kara...”
“Don’t talk. Please don’t talk.” She was fighting tooth and nail with herself to keep from thinking about it. If he started talking, she wouldn’t have any choice but to face what they were doing.
She stood, and grabbed him by the open front of his pants and started walking backwards until the backs of her knees hit the couch and she fell onto it. He toppled with her, grabbing bracing himself on the back so that he was looming over her. It was a short distance to her mouth and he crossed it, kissing her deeply. It was the perfect position for her hands to play along the muscles of his hips and abdomen, and she delighted in how the jumped when she raked her nails over a particularly sensitive spot.
“Shit, Kara, that’s-” She reclaimed his mouth and he forgot about what he was saying. When her hands slid into his waistband to cup him and bring him out he bit down on her lip hard enough to taste blood. She was too busy reveling in the texture of him, of incredibly soft skin over unbelievably hard muscle, to care.
He jerked back and forth against her hands and then he stood up straight abruptly. His hands banded around her wrists hard. “You have to stop that.”
She looked up at him impishly. “Why?”
He leaned in and his voice grew quiet and took on an edge. “Because if you don’t, I. Might. Will. Come. And I don’t want to do that until I’ve been inside of you.” He brought her hands up to his mouth and nipped lightly at the sensitive inside of both of her wrists before releasing her.
She was pushing off her jeans even as he was shucking his own. Then he pulled her up so that he could switch their positions and pulled her down so that she was straddling his lap. His hands clamped down on her hips to guide her. His cock brushed against her wetness and he gritted his teeth. “You’re really hot. And really wet.”
“You’re really hot, and really hard,” she said back.
“The two go together, don’t you think?” and he shifted and lifted her the fraction of an inch he needed to slide inside.
Tight.
Wet.
Close.
“Oh, Gods,” she moaned, and rested her head on her his shoulder. One of his hands left her hip and slid up her side and past her breast to thread through her hair and cradle her there. He was torn between wanting to drive into her as hard as he could until they both exploded and wanting to take care of her, and cherish her. To touch her softly and take her slowly so that they could both feel every inch.
Then she clenched around him and he lost the choice along with his control. They writhed against each other, bucking and straining until he felt her close around him so tightly that she nearly forced him out. She went over the edge and the as she did her eyes snapped open and met his. He fell off the edge and into her, mind, body, and soul.
*****
The next morning when he woke up, he was alone on his floor. All traces of her were gone. He tried to call, but all he got was her machine.
Three days later he realized she really wasn’t going to call him back.
*****
The next time he saw her was several months later at their mother’s birthday picnic. She’d refused his calls, hadn’t responded to his letters, and had neatly managed to be out, away, or absent everytime he’d tried to track her down at either her apartment or at their parent’s house. His father had asked him once if everything was alright between them, and had mentioned it was odd that he hadn’t seen them together in such a long time, but he’d brushed off his concerns with some drivel /drabble about both just being very very busy with their post-graduate lives.
When he walked into the family’s backyard he she was the first thing he saw. His eyes were drawn to her like a lodestone.
She looked thinner than he’d remembered her being - almost as thin as she’d been become in the months immediately following her parents’ deaths. She was talking to their mother, who was serving up some kind of salad into smaller bowls. He knew the minute moment she looked up at and saw him, because it caught him right in the chest. It felt like she’d literally hit him, even though she was feet meters yards away. Then His mother caught sight of him and called his name, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of Her. His sister.
Not a sister. Not really. Not blood. It was his mantra. His prayer for the last five months.
As she his mother stepped around the table to walk towards him, he watched Her reach a hand out and set it on a tall figure beside her. It was the first time he noticed that it was a man he didn’t recognize. she A man who was obviously there with her.
“Lee. I’m glad you made it!”
His attention was pulled away as he greeted his mother. He hugged her and kissed her cheek, but kept Kara in the corner of his eye. She was still holding onto the tall man, as if she was afraid.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Mom.”
“Good.” She took his hand and turned back the way she’d come. “You should come meet Evan.”
“Evan?” he tried, and probably failed to keep the distaste out of his voice, based on the look his mother gave him.
“Yes. Kara brought him. She met him at school and - well, really, she can tell you. Here we are. Evan, this is my son, Lee. Lee, this is Kara’s boyfriend, Evan.”
He could feel his face heat with anger.
Jealousy the little voice told him. You’re jealous.
Because she’s mine, he hissed back inside his own head. He doesn’t have a right to touch her.
Neither do you, it replied.
*****
He made it through dinner
*****
TWINS
*****
Her first memories are of floating. It’s warm and wet and close and dark, but she’s not alone. From the very beginning, he’s there. Jockeying for room in what is quickly becoming a too-tight space, close enough to touch, even though there’s a thin film veil between them. Sometimes they fight, because it’s an awfully small space for two very big personalities like they are, but other times, when it’s quiet, when they’re lulled by their mother’s heartbeat, they curl close and there’s comfort there.
*****
They’re inseperable most of their early lives. When they graduate to real beds they’re given bunks, but inevitably one ends up being used almost exclusively for toys. Most mornings they’re curled up together just like they’ve always been.
School is a jarring transition. They’re not in the same class their first year, and more than once Kara’s teacher has to come knocking on Lee’s class’s door to find her missing student.
They have their first real fight at age three. Their mother never remembered what started it, but it involved Kara hitting him with a book and then him running away to hide in the other room all afternoon. As the story goes she cried until he crept out, his own little face tear-stained, to comfort her.
*****
ALTERNATE FUTURE 1
*****
It had been Kara’s doorstep that he’d shown up on after his rather disasterous meeting with Gianne and Kara’s apartment he’d stayed at his last night in Caprica City before shipping out on the Atlantia. She’d gotten him good and drunk, gotten him to spill out the whole sordid story, and then made sure he was washed, sober, pressed and polished enough to report for duty the following morning.
As soon as the guns were lowered Kara launched herself at him and he caught her in an awkward bear hug.
“You’re alive!” he exclaimed, and realized
*****
They met during her third semester as an Art student at Leonid University. He showed up in her Sophomore seminar on early Picon art movements late, his schedule having been rearranged five times due to a clerical error. It was apparent immediately (immediately apparent?) that he didn’t know pen and ink from watercolors, but something about him drew her attention.
She ended up offering him her notes from the first half of class, as well as a standing offer to help him with the homework if he needed it. He asked if it was that apparent he didn’t belong in the class and she just smiled.
“It is a little odd to see a non-major in there. Professor Kowska’s seminars aren’t for the faint-hearted.”
“I needed an Art credit for my general studies,” he offered as they sat down in the main comissary with their lunch.
She arched an eyebrow. “You couldn’t’ve stuck with Basic Drawing or Intro to Art History?”
“They were full.”
“So wait a semester.” She studied her sandwich for a moment before shoving it aside and unwrapping baklava instead. He tilted his head and she smiled “Desert before lunch. It’s a lifestyle choice.”
He laughed. “I’m trying to graduate early. The next two years I’m going to have the entire courseload for my major, so I have to finish my general reqs this semester.”
“Poor you.”
“Is she really that bad?” He watched the baklava disappear, and started on his own sandwich.
“She can be. She doesn’t have any patience for slackers or the uninformed.”
“I’m not a slacker,” he stated flatly.
“I didn’t say you were,” she smiled that she’d gotten a rise out of him. “But she expects the best out of her students, and you’re at a considerable disadvantage because you’re not an art major student.”
“That’s why you so selflessly offered to tutor me,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“Oh, of course. You bowled me over with your considerable charms.”
“I do ok with women.”
“I’m sure you do.”
*****
Three weeks later, he’d taken her out to dinner as a thank you for helping him pass their first exam, and he’d ended up showing her just how good with a woman he could be. She’d happily appreciated every second of it, and all his considerable talents. But she’d thrown him when she’d pulled on her clothes when they were done and started to gather her things.
“Where’re you going?”
She looked up. “Home.” And she said it like it was the most natural, obvious thing in the world.
He raised up on one elbow and regarded her sleepily. “You don’t have to, you know. You can stay.”
“I know.” And I want to, she thought to herself, and it was exactly why she didn’t. She wanted to too much. She smiled at him, walked over as she was buttoning up her pants and leaned down to kiss him, then slipped easily from his grasp and grabbed her bag.
“I’ll see you Thursday, ok?” He frowned and she bit at the inside of her cheek. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she could see that it was. “I enjoyed it, Lee. I really did. Just trust me, ok? It’s better like this.”
With that cryptic statement, she bolted slowly for the door, not letting herself look back.
*****
He stopped her in the Quad after class two days later.
“What the frak are you doing, Kara?”
She jerked away from him in surprise - she hadn’t seen him angry before (she’d never seen him angry). “Excuse me?” she spit out, responding to the anger in his eyes with irritation in her own (with the irritation in her voice).
“What happened? We slept together, and then you leave, and now you’re ignoring me? What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry - what exactly did you think was going on? We frakked, Lee - it was fun, but it wasn’t some kind of declaration of affection or commitment. We’re friends, we were drunk, it happens. But that doesn’t make it into something.”
“Maybe not for you. Obviously not for you, but I-”
“Oh, please don’t tell me you’re in love with me. For the Gods’ sakes.”
“No. No, I’m not in love with you. But I was interested in you.” He let the past tense sting her.
She struck back. “Has your interest been satisfied now? Was I a good lay?”
He recoiled. “I didn’t mean that. Dammit, don’t twist my words around!”
“You’re doing a pretty damn good job of it on your own.”
They’d both completely forgotten that they were having the ever increasingly louder argument in the middle of class change, in the middle of the Quad, in front of a huge number of witnesses. Neither particularly cared.
“You know what? Never mind. Just forget it. Forget all of it.”
“Fine.”
*****
She could remember things so clearly - what it was like to love him, hate him, find him, lose him, to betray him... to be hated by him - although she’d had as much practice at that in their present life. But other things - the power behind taking vows with to him (which had been nothing like the vows or experience she’d had when she’d married Sam Anders), what it was like to bear his children - and a dark, shadowed room when the Gods moved into them and through them, binding them together.
She found herself in the ship’s Chapel Temple, staring at the heavy book of the scrolls that lay on the altar. Her chest still hurt, was all she could think - Cottle had said that it would for days yet, but she kept being distracted by it and felt like she should be focusing on other things.
She hadn’t been able to talk to Lee since they’d she’d been released. He was still down in sick bay, Dee at his side as his constant companion, just like when she’d shot him. She felt like she was going crazy. She wasn’t sure if any of it was true - how could it be - but it had felt real. They were memories, not fantasies. Somehow, she knew that.
“Kara Captain Thrace?”
She startled slightly and turned to see the Temple priestess. She realized she couldn’t remember her name. “Yes?”
“Are you all right?” She had an air about her like Elosha had. Something maternal and wise that seemed to be part and parcel with the job description. She felt safe, safe enough that Kara realized things were bubbling to the surface, wanting to spill out into words. But another part of her shied away, told her to be wary. The last thing she needed was someone to decide she should have her head examined.
“Yeah. Fine. Sorry, I was just looking for a quiet place to think for awhile. But I can go, if you need-”
“No, no child. Please, stay as long as you feel you need to.” She settled in the pew across the aisle from her. “I was just wondering if you needed (wanted?) to talk about anything.”
She fought with herself. Then, “Do you believe that we’ve lived before?”
“That’s an interesting way to phrase it. Usually what I’m asked is do I believe we will live again.” She looked thoughtful for a second. “Yes. ‘All this has happened before-’”
“’And all this will happen again.’ I know. And I believe that... but... why don’t we remember?”
“It’s an interesting question. Part of the Gods plan for us, I imagine. Perhaps we cannot comprehend that much life, perhaps we aren’t capable of holding so many memories in. Or perhaps if we remembered, we wouldn’t be able to learn the things we need to learn. We wouldn’t experience what the Gods want us to experience.”
“What happens to us if we do remember?”
“I don’t know. Can I assume you’re questions aren’t just random?”
Kara bit her lip. “No.”
“What do you remember?”
“Everything. Nothing. Lives - so many lives.”
“Was it while you were injured?”
Kara looked at her sharply. “How do you know-”
“The Admiral was in here when you were in surgery. And news travels quickly on a Battlestar. Did you have visions?”
“I’m not a prophet. I’m not - nothing like what the President had. I’m not crazy-”
“I didn’t say you were. Nor did I say I ask if you’d had prophetic visions.”
Chastened, Kara answered. “Yes. I didn’t just see them. I lived them. I relived lives. I just don’t understand why.”
“Perhaps the Gods had something they needed to tell you or teach you. Was there a common thread to any of them?”
“Who I was with. A person - someone I know now, was there. He didn’t look like himself, but I know it was him. He was always”
“A soulmate.”
Kara looked up at her and snorted in disgust. “These were hardly romantic fairytales.”
“And ‘romantic fairytales’ are hardly the truth of the matter of soulmates. Do you know what it means to be soulmates with someone, Kara Captain?”
“Apparently not.”
“Two souls - sometimes more -yes,” she said when Kara gave her an incredulous look, “more than two. Souls that for one reason or another - ancient magic, perhaps, but more likely the will of the Gods and the Fates are bound together by something stronger than fate the Gods, stronger even than fate the Fates.”
“Nothing’s stronger than the Fates. They control even the will control the Gods.”
“Even the Fates bow before Ananke. Necessity.” She
“Why would she care about me?”
“So Necessity decides that certain souls have to be together. Why?”
“Why not?” When Kara rolled her eyes, she laid a hand on her shoulder. “No one truly knows why the Gods or Powers do the things that they do. Why they lay the paths out for us that they do. Perhaps, it is to give us companionship. Or perhaps it is the way they teach us. Through others, and others through ourselves.”
“Why do we do so much damage. I remember hurting and be hurt - so many different times, but it’s all the same.”
“Then perhaps they’re trying to tell you you haven’t learned the lesson yet.”
“Everyone I get close too... I hurt them. I don’t always mean to, but they it happens anyway.”
“Do you feel you’re cursed?”
“Maybe. For longer and than I’d thought, apparently.”
“I remember a room. With masks, and candles or torches. It was a long time ago. We were doing something, some kind of ritual. But - it sounds crazy. It does, but he was God to me. That’s heresy.”
“No. Not always. How much do you know about the ancient practices?”
“Not much.”
“Once, during the Anthesteria, a certain ceremony was practiced on the second to last night. The night of Khoes. The wife of the King or Basilis, the Basilina, was given away to the God Dionysus for one night of pleasure. She was escorted to a room, was made to wear a mask, and then He would come to her. And take her in heiros gamos. The Divine marriage.”
“They had sex?” Her stomach fluttered as memories flashed through her mind.
“Yes. And it was more powerful than sex. It bound them together.”
“Then what happened?”
“Cycles repeat. No one has ever recorded who was chosen as the God, it wasn’t spoken of - and perhaps even she didn’t know. But every year on the night of Khoes they would come together in silence and music and torchlight until the fall of Kobol and the Exodus.”
“Why did they stop?”
“The Pythia prophecied that the Gods were removed when we reached the Twelve Worlds. They watched over us, but were no longer with us. They - He wouldn’t have come to a mortal woman anymore.”
“So that’s how soulmates get made?”
“No. Or not entirely, but it could certainly have the be the kind of memory you’re speaking of. Soulmates need each other, they have the ultimate power to understand each other, but with that power comes an inordinate ability to harm each other. Love and hate are the same coin, just different sides. But they aren’t someone you can be indifferent too.”
“How do you stop it?”
“You don’t. You can’t. It’s a part of Ananke’s Net, and you’re trapped in it, just as surely as everyone else. The Humans, the Cylons, even the Gods.”
“Why would they show all this to me?”
“So you can learn. So you can perhaps see the patterns in what you do? Maybe it’s time you stop hurting each other. Or maybe so you can see the possiblities before you.”
“They showed me futures. The past. Other lives that I couldn’t have lived because they’re now, but they’re not what really happened. I thought I was just going crazy.”
“You’re not crazy - or if you are, it’s not because of this. These memories are gifts. The experiences you’ve had are gifts.”
“I don’t know if anyone else would believe me. And he - the other person, he’s not a believer. Not really. I’m the religious one. He won’t believe any of it.”
“Maybe he doesn’t have to - but maybe, you might be surprised by what he’s seen.”
*****
“Do you ever wonder about the Gods, Lee?”
“What do you mean?”
“I know you’re not religious, but do you believe in them?”
“I don’t know if I do or not. Sometimes... but if they do, how can they allow all this to happen?”
What I need from you all is opinions on the broad strokes. The story itself, not the spelling or grammar or such (as it is NaNoWriMo and editing at ALL is a sin until December). But I'm starting to question what the frak I'm doing and why and how and I need ideas, suggestions, and just general rah-rah speeches I think.
“All of this has happened before, and all of this will happen again.”
Beyond the people, beyond the gods, there is Ananke. Necessity. The serpent that twists herself around unrelenting time and all the worlds and determines how it will all be shaped.
There is a pattern that was concieved long before the Gods were brought into being, and that will exist long after they’re /they are all forgotten. Even they must abide by it, follow it, and be part of it.
The pattern is repeated over and over again, with endless variation, but obvious commonality.
Every so often, certain souls (beings /people) are given a glimpse of the pattern.
*****
PRESENT
*****
It should have been a simple landing. There were no Cylons, no nukes, just a successfully quiet CAP run during the third shift watch.
No one was entirely sure at first what it was that went to so horribly wrong.
“Are you alright in there, Captain?” Kelly asked Kara/ Starbuck over the intercom.
“Fine. What’s the hold up?”
“Something’s jammed in the lift. We’re taking care of it as quickly as we can - someone’s already gone to wake the Chief.”
“Great,” she said sarcastically. “How long am I looking at being down here?”
Kelly sighed. “A half hour maybe? We won’t know for sure until-”
BOOM
Fire lit up the sensors as something exploded on the Viper.
Lee/ Apollo jerked around when he heard the sound, just in time to see flame in the launch tube window.
*****
They were trying to pry off the cock-pit canopy when they realized that the ammunition heated to critical levels. The reserve ammo in the left wing exploded, knocking Lee, the Chief, and Hot Dog to the ground. Tyrol levered himself up, dazed, and could hear people calling out warnings, and the hissing of fire suppression hoses being turned on them. He tilted his head to the left and saw Lee, not moving (unmoving?).
“Commander!” He called out, but it turned into a coughing fit as he tried to breathe in the mess of chemicals and smoke that was filling the chamber. “Help! Get a med team!” he croaked, just before blacking out.
*****
Adama was down in sickbay only seconds behind the emergency team’s arrival. “What the hell is going on?” he bellowed at Cottle as soon as he saw him.
“I’ve got several people with smoke inhalation and varying degrees of injuries, and beyond that, I don’t know yet. You’ll be briefed as soon as I have more information, but for now get the frak out of my way and let me triage my patients!”
*****
The Chief was suffering from smoke inhalation, but had been released into Cally’s care. Hot Dog had similar effects, and some light burning on his hands from struggling with Kara’s cockpit.
*****
“How are they?”
“I’ve got them both on the table right now, but it’s touch and go. They’ve both lost a lot of blood. We’re trying to find donors, but they’re both AB-.” Cottle looked at Adama expectantly.
Adama pressed a hand over his eyes. “I’m not a match. I’ll have Gaeta put a call out to all the fleet.”
“I’ll keep doing what I can here, but I’m hesitant to do much more without a supply of blood to give them.”
“Do what you can. I trust you know what they mean to me, and to this fleet?”
“I’m not blind. Or stupid. I’m going to do all that I can.”
“That’s all I can ask.”
*****
IN THE VOID
*****
She’s herself, but not. She doesn’t recognize where she is, and she isn’t sure who she is - and she knows her name isn’t really Kara, but it’s all she remembers.
Slowly, she remembers fractures of things.
*****
REGENCY
*****
She was raised by her father, on Kobol. Her mother, she’s always been told, died when she was born. An only child, she was the apple of her father’s eye. He was an accomplished military leader and strategist, and as a child she was always fascinated by the figures lining the stacked rank and file on the oversized table in his “war room”. The important men in the elaborate uniforms would come to dinner and then they would cloister themselves away in the office. If she was very, very quiet, and very, very good, she could sit in the corner and listen. And watch. And learn.
And when she was older, she started asking questions. “What was this?” “What did this it mean?”
When she came of age, instead of being debuted to society, her father took her to her first official war council. It was several sessions before she ventured her own suggestion for a particularly problematic maneuver, and several more before the seasoned Admirals, Commanders, Majors and Captains actually considered her suggestions. But slowly and surely her suggestions ideas were accepted, and even implemented. She gained the respect of those who spoke with her, even as she was veiwed askance by society as a whole. It was A woman of such a demeanor, a disposition, with such skills was not well understood.
Her father once expressed concern and regret about how he’d raised her - her response had been swift and decisive, just like her strategies. She was happy with her skills, her training and her lot in life. She had no desire to catch an “appropriate match” and spend her remaining years bearing and raising children. So she continued to her unusual life.
*****
Costas Agaros regarded the young woman seated across from him at the dinner table. “An excellent meal, as always, my Lady.”
“Thank you. I do my best.” She smiled, and it was artless. Genuine. Terribly unlike all the other women he knew. He’d learned quickly that his Commander’s daughter was unique, outspoken, and dangerously brilliant. She had taken to him immediately, and he to her. He was fairly certain that at least part of it was his lack of reluctance to listen to her ideas. It had to be fairly novel for her to not have to defend herself all the time. He’d tried his best to put her at ease. In doing so, what had started out as a way to get closer to her had blossomed into a genuinely good and close friendship - one he wished he was in a position to take further. Family obligations, however, prevented him from proposing to any woman, and certainly not to one of her station - even if she had disdained society’s rules and rituals.
“You certainly do. Will your father be joining us after dinner?”
“Perhaps. It will depend on how rested he is.”
“How bad has it been?” He’d wanted to ask for days, but this was the first time they’d found a moment alone, and he didn’t dare bring it up around the others.
“Bad. His heart is failing, and he knows it is. The medicines aren’t helping much anymore. It’s really only a matter of time. A relatively short time, I’m afraid.”
He reached a hand across the table and took hers. While there was an undercurrent of heat, it was subtle, and easily deferred given the circumstances. “Whatever you need, Kara. Whatever I can provide-”
“I know. But I’ll be fine. He’s made sure that the wills are iron clad. I’ll be in good straights.”
“But you’ll miss him.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Of course. But I’ll survive. We’ve... talked about it, extensively. We’ve said the things we need to say to one another. I’ll be sad, but it will be alright.”
He admired her strength above all else. He was quickly coming to the point of admitting that it was one of the reasons he loved her.
Because the talk was making her maudlin, he changed the subject. “When will the others be arriving?”
“Any time now. I told them after the dinner hour, and it’s nearly half past that.” She rose from the table as he did and they started towards the large study.
“Have you heard anything else from Martos about the new man he’s bringing?”
“Only that he’s one of the youngest to achieve the rank of Captain, and Martos thinks he’s brilliant. I’m reserving judgement on that. Martos has a tendency to be overly hopeful about his pupils.”
“I wonder how he’ll react to you?” It was one of Costas’s favorite games, trying to guess how other Officers would respond to the beautiful, firey woman who was the star of the strategy room.
“I don’t. He’ll be like every other man to cross that threshhold. It’ll take me weeks to prove myself to him, and then he’ll treat me like I’m some kind of Carnivale attraction.”
“Not every man.”
She smiled at him. “No. Not every one of them. But you, my dear, are the exception to all the rules.”
“No, I believe that would be you.”
*****
She felt him when he walked in the door. It sounded strange, and irrational to her, but the electricity that arced up her spine shiver that ran down through her center was real.
Then He walked into the room.
He was tall, and dark like most of the men, his hair cut in the short military style, and his uniform polished and perfect - the image of the perfect officer. But it was his eyes that took her breath away. She’d always dismissed the ideas of love at first sight as ridiculous - the dreams of those vapid society maids that tried every last ounce of her patience - but she had no words for her reaction to him.
It scared her like nothing else ever had.
She only had one defense when she was scared, and that was to be cutting. Dryly quick witted and cold. It was her armor and it fit her comfortably. So she schooled her face into business-like lines and went to greet her new guest.
*****
The house was in one of the older neighborhoods, and was quietly wealthy, much like his own family’s.
“Are you alright, Captain?” Major Martos, his mentor and immediate superior asked with some small amusement in his voice. The older man smoothed his uniform jacket as he stepped out of the carriage.
He quickly regained his bearing. He wasn’t sure what had unsettled him about the house. “Of course, sir. Fine.” He had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that something monumentous was about to happen to him.
They were greeted at the door by a butler, then escorted to a large study towards the back of the house. He inventoried the people inside the room, starting with the High Admiral
They rose
*****
“How did you become involved in this? It’s not exactly standard a normal thing for a woman to be doing.”
“My father. I was his only child, and after my mother died, I was all he had, so he indulged me. It was a way for us to spend time together. And I have a knack for it.”
“That’s one way of putting it. The troop arrangement at Kaikos was brilliant. A lot of men survived that day.”
“I’m glad, though that wasn’t my end goal. I’m no soft-hearted woman, Captain. I understand that sometimes sacrifices have to be made to succeed, and please don’t think that I wouldn’t be willing to send men to their deaths if that’s what it took to keep this empire safe.” She’d stopped and turned so she was looking him straight in the eye. It was startling, as much so as her words. Women often glanced and fluttered, gazed and flirted, but never met him eye to eye like Kara she did.
“That’s... good to know... ma’am. I’m sorry, I’m not really sure how I should be addressing you. Most women I call ‘miss’ but that doesn’t seem to fit you.”
She smiled. “You can call me Kara.” Or Miss
*****
"Why are you here?"
"I wanted to see you," he smiled, but it turned to a frown when she ducked away.
"You shouldn't be here." She turned to head back into her study, but he grabbed her arm. "Kara. Wait - what's wrong?"
She turned back and her eyes closed as she tilted her head in a slow shake. "We can't keep doing this Lee. I can't keep doing this anymore."
It hit him like a sucker-punch to the gut. "I don't understand."
She gave him a look. "You're married. I'm involved, and we've been sneaking around like we're children. We're not - and no matter how I feel about you, no matter how we feel about each other, it isn't right."
"This is because I married Lena?"
"It's about all sorts of things."
"No. No, just stop a minute. I was betrothed to her. Before I even met you, I was betrothed to her, and it was my duty to her that we marry."
"I'm not stupid. I understand how society works, even if I'm not a part of it. I'm not acting out some jealous fit. I know exactly why you married her, when but you did marry her. I'm not punishing you for that. I'm facing the facts of my life. I'm not leaving Costas, either - I don't want or expect you to leave Lena. But she deserves your attention, and your affection. It's no more her fault than it is yours what your parents and society dictate, and she shouldn't be punished for it. Just like he deserves mine," she finished quietly. He'd moved to stand toe to toe with her and was looking at her in a way that made her warm and uncomfortable all at the same time. It was intense.
"I'm in love with you. You, not Lena. I'd leave her if I could, but it's too late. At least you and Costas aren't married." The other man's name was bitter on his tongue.
"Things between us are... complicated." She was shaking inside from his revelation. She'd known, but he'd never said it. They'd both been so careful not to say it, because it would have made it too real.
"Do you love him?"
"Of course I love him."
"Are you in love with him, like you are with me?" He knew, she realized, how she felt about him, just as surely as she knew his feelings for her. They hadn't been hiding any of the things they'd thought they were hiding. Not from each other - maybe not from anyone else, either.
"Who else knows? Who else realizes?" Panic threaded into her voice.
He grabbed her upper arms roughly. "That doesn't matter right now. Right now is about you and me, Kara. Are you in love with him?"
"No," she whispered. They were looking into each other's eyes again, and she knew she could get lost inside of him. It was a potential loss of control that scared her.
“I want you. I need you in my life, however I can have you.”
*****
He was straightening his shirt and shrugging on his uniform jacket when she found the nerve to tell him.
“Lee.”
He stopped and turned back to her. She was sitting half-way up in the bed leaning up on one elbow and holding the quilts around herself with her other hand, like she was cold, or scared. She looked so young for a moment, and vulnerable - nothing like the strong, no-nonsense, capable woman he was used to. He knew he was one of the very few people to ever see this side of her, and he respected it. Sometimes he feared it.
“What’s wrong?”
She took a breath. “I’m pregnant.”
The world stood still. Then it started spinning again, more forcefully, and he nearly staggered. “What?”
“I’m pregnant.” She sat up a little bit straighter and let the blanket drop. It bared her breasts, but it wasn’t a movement intended to seduce or arouse. Rather she was steeling herself and letting go of her fear - putting her vulnerable side away and arming herself for confrontation (conflict? battle?).
He wasn’t sure which end was up, but it the first words that came out of his mouth he regretted instantly. “Is it mine?”
Her face fell and grew dark.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what-”
“Costas has been away for five months. What exactly are you implying.”
“I know - I know - I’m sorry, I didn’t mean... I just... I didn’t think about the time frame for a second there.”
She wasn’t pacified by his explanation, but
*****
RAISED TOGETHER
*****
Lee remembered the day his father brought the little girl home. He was ten at the time. His father showed up to dinner with the little blonde girl in tow and announced she would be living with them from now on. He can’t remember her name now, but he thinks can only think of her as Kara, just like he can only remember himself as Lee.
He came to find out later that her parents had been killed in a crash, and his parents were her god parents. She’d grown up in on another world, Tauron. He and his family lived on Picon. But when her parents had died, their will had stated that she go come to live with them.
So then he had a sister.
He hadn’t really wanted a sister.
He’d liked being an only child, had liked having his things his own way, and had liked being the center of attention. That all changed when Kara came into his life.
She was quiet and withdrawn. For the first several weeks she was there, she stayed locked in her room except for meals.
It was the rainy season on Picon, and for the three and a half months of monsoons all the children were giving a vacation from school, so she they didn’t have anywhere to go anywhere.
He ignored her for the first several days, but she fascinated him. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to leave the only home he’d ever known, the only family he’d ever had, and move to somewhere completely new. Tauron was a dusty, desert-like world, while Picon was a lush tropical place. The idea of traveling fascinated him too, even though he was terrified by the idea of losing his family.
*****
He was the first person that managed to get her to eat. It set a pattern for their relationship.
Everyone knew she wasn’t eating, although he was pretty sure she thought she was hiding it. His mother noticed the that the food on her plate wasn’t really disappearing, just moving around, and his father noticed that her snacks ended up in the trash more often than not. Lee knew this because he overheard them talking about it one night after they thought he was in bed. He also knew that they weren’t planning on asking her about it directly, but instead were hoping it would be a phase she would get over when she got hungry enough.
For some reason, Lee didn’t think so. Something told him that the little girl was dead serious about her fast and it wouldn’t just go away. So he did the only thing that he could think of.
He asked her about it, point blank.
***
He knew she would be up in the tree at the far corner of their lot because he’d seen her up there everyday each day since she’d been there. He hadn’t approached her before, because he’d known she’d wanted to be alone. You didn’t climb as high up as you could get on the farthest point from people because you wanted to talk to them. He’d respected that, and had given her the space he’d thought she wanted.
But today he decided enough was enough. He grabbed a couple apples and hiked his way over the hilly yard until he was standing at the base of the tree. After shoving an a piece of the fruit into each of his pockets he levered himself up onto one of the branches and started his way up the tree.
“Go away.”
He ignored her order, and countered with a question of his own.
“Why aren’t you eating?”
She looked down at him sharply. “I don’t know What are you talking about?”
“You’re not eating. You haven’t since you got here. I was just wondering why?”
She chewed on her lip in a gesture of indecision, like she wasn’t sure if she was going to deny it, or if she was going to tell him he could go to Tartarus. Finally she settled on something and responded with, “None of your business. Why should you care, anyway?”
He reached the limbs right across from her and pulled himself up into a sitting position on a in the crux of two branches. “Because I’m worried about you.”
She looked at him suspiciously. “Why?”
“I dunnow. But I am. So’re mom and dad.”
She pulled in on herself a little bit. “They’re not my mom and dad. They’re my godparents. And I didn’t even know them before last week.
“Tauron’s a long way away. I heard them talking about it - they didn’t like not getting to see you and your parents, but they couldn’t make it all the way out there. Something about the money, I guess.”
“Looks to me like they have enough money.”
“We get by. But it’s nothing special. We only have the house because it was my granddad’s and he’d paid off the morttage.”
“Mortgage.”
“Whatever. Why aren’t you eating?”
“Because they can’t,” she said quietly, so quietly he wasn’t sure at first that he’d heard her.
“Because who can’t?”
“My parents. They don’t eat anymore, because they’re dead. The only thing the dead eat is blood.”
“So why shouldn’t you be eating? You’re not dead.”
“Because I want to be. I don’t like it here - I wanna be with my mom and dad.”
“How’d they die?”
“The police said a car hit theirs when they were on their way to pick me up.”
“That’s rough.”
“It’s my fault.”
“No it’s not.”
She looked up, and there was anger in her eyes. “Yes it is. Of course it is. They were coming to get me. If they hadn’t...”
“Where were you?”
She wrapped her hands around the branch in front of her and he could see that her knuckles were white, she was holding on so hard. “I was at the bus station. I’d try tried to run away.”
“Why?” He was patient. He was good at being patient, all his teachers had told his parents so. He was happiest when he was sitting still and absorbing things - books, movies, or people. It was unsettling to some, and he’d never had many friends because of it. But in situations like this, it was a perfect talent.
“Because they were fighting. About me. I’d gotten in trouble at school for doing stupid stuff and not paying attention and they were mad. I thought if I’d just leave, they’d stop being wouldn’t have a reason to be mad anymore. So I ran away.”
“And they were coming to get you? How’d they know where you were?”
“I didn’t have enough money for a ticket. And I was cold, and hungry, and tired. It was late.” She was crying now, big, fat tears, but her voice was strong and even. “So I called them to come and get me.”
“They didn’t want you to be cold and tired and lonely. They loved you.” He said it with all the certainty a ten year old could muster, and he meant it. He was sure of it, just like he was sure his parents loved him. “They didn’t want you to be hungry. Why would they want you to be hungry now?”
She just looked at him. She blinked slowly, and he dug one of the apples out of his pocket. “Here. I brought one for each of us. If you want to, we can leave a peice on the ground for your parents like they do in Temple.”
Cautiously, slowly, she reached out her hand. She took the apple and stared at it for long moments, before falling on it and tearing out a big bite.
She ended up eating both the apples he’d brought - when she was done with the first he produced the second without her even asking for it - and they left two peices and the cores at the base of the tree like they’d seen the Priests and Priestesses do with the animal bones and fat in the Temples on Feast days.
That night she ate almost all her dinner, but made sure to leave a tiny bit of each thing behind. If Lee’s mother noticed, she didn’t comment, and it became her ritual, her personal prayer. To the best of his knowledge, she never told anyone, anyone except him what it meant to her. But it was the first step in a long walk towards a new family.
*****
The first time she was remembers being jealous was the day she stepped into the old farmhouse. She watched the man - her godfather, she tried to remind herself - scoop his son up in a hug and knew her father would never hug her again. And she was jealous of the little boy.
The second time she remembers being jealous was about Lee too. It was the day he brought home his first girlfriend.
She was 14 and didn’t understand how she was feeling at first. She’d seen people talk about dating in books and movies, but now Lee was 15 and he was allowed. And Sisters weren’t supposed to be jealous of their brother’s girlfriends.
But they weren’t really siblings.
But That didn’t matter. They were family in the eyes of the Gods, according to the Laws. He was her brother in everything but blood and she shouldn’t wish that it was her he was sneaking out into the backyard with, that it was her he was kissing - and wasn’t kissing a revelation to see someone her own age doing, for real - that it was her he loved.
Of course he loved her. He told her he loved her all the time.
As a brother. Because she was his sister.
Not really.
*****
He really hadn’t noticed that Kara was a Girl. Not a girl with a capital “G”, at any rate. (in any case?). He’d ignored that she was growing up and wasn’t the gangly blonde tomboy that he’d been living with. Then “TIMING” had decided to wreck havoc with his life, and he’d walked upstairs and into the hall bathroom - which he would swear for the rest of his life had been open, just as she would swear that it had been closed - just as she was stepping out of the shower, giving him a full frontal view of her buck naked.
He’d turned red, gaped, and opened and closed his mouth a few times in shock before turning tail and slamming into his room across the hall, banging the door shut behind him. For her part, she’d stood there in shock, towel hanging uselessly from her hand as a flush crept up her whole body.
For weeks afterward, her image slid unbidden - and sometimes called - into his mind, and his dreams. His mother didn’t comment on the how often he was changing his sheets, and for that he was grateful. He felt guilty about it all, beyond the simple embarassment of being a teen. She was his best friend, and completely forbidden. And he loved her, but he’d never realized - never thought about her growing up and becoming a woman.
But she certainly was now. He’d seen that first hand.
*****
“I think you’re just a little bit drunk.”
“Me?” he gasped, even as he tilted dangerously, “I’m drunk? What about you?”
She laughed, that full, all out laugh that he loved so much. The one that said that she didn’t care what the people around her thought - she was happy and she was enjoying / going to enjoy herself. She flopped onto her back on the floor next to the couch and before he could brace himself she reached up and jerked him off and onto the floor next to her.
He was close enough to breathe in the smell of her shampoo and lotion. It wasn’t flowery - it was more herbal, simpler. Just like she was. She’d been using the same combination for years, and it had been driving him crazy almost as long as girls had driven him crazy.
“What’re you doing?”
Alcohol loosened his tongue and dulled his sense of self-restraint. control. “Smelling you.”
She raised up on one elbow to look down at him. “Smelling me?”
“You smell good,” he answered, and leaned closer to sniff at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.
“Knock it off!” she laughed, and shoved half-heartedly at his head. Then she cocked her head and regarded him seriously for a minute. “You like the way I smell?”
“I’ve always liked it.”
“When/ Why have you even noticed the way I smell?”
“For years and years.”
“What!?”
“It’s not like it was easy to avoid! You’ve lived right next to me for years!”
“You never told me.” She was leaning over him now, one hand planted on either side of his head. It was a short distance for his hands hand to lift up and touch her gently on her side.
Her voice dropped, became huskier as he touched her. “What are you doing?”
“Touching you.” And his voice was pitched to match.
Something settled over them. It was a peace, a calm that they rarely shared. They were always something vivid. Laughing, fighting, crying - but rarely were they peaceful.
It shouldn’t have been a peaceful moment as he lifted his mouth until it was a breath away from hers. It was forbidden, it was wrong, and it was one of the most emotionally and hormonally charged things he had ever done.
It was the alcohol. That’s what they would both tell themselves later, but at that moment, they saw each other.
“What-”
“Shhh.” He laid a finger against her lips and her eyes widened. Then he replaced his finger with his lips and her eyes slipped closed. He rose up, his hand one hand threading through her hair at the base of her neck to pull her closer and the other pushing against the floor to raise himself up to her.
A meeting of mouths was followed by racing hands and piece by piece their clothes were pulled, tugged, and stripped off. He got his first glimpse of her since that night after the game when he’d watched her change. He’d had no idea that he could get any harder than he already was, but he did. He thought he would come just from looking at her. “Gods I want you,” he hissed when they broke apart for air.
“We shouldn’t do this,” she whispered. “We’re family, we’re not-”
“We’re not blood. There’s no sin here,” he said softly as he pushed her hair back from her face. “I love you.”
Her eyes widened. “Of course you do. I love you too -”
“I’m in love with you.”
His world stopped. He realized just what it was he’d said, but it was too late to take it back. And it was all true. He was in love with her. He’d been in love with her for years, maybe in some way since the day she’d walked into his home, a sad lost shadow behind his father.
She looked confused, unsure of what she should say or how she should respond, so he saved her. “Don’t say anything back. Just be with me tonight. Please? If you don’t feel this way, then we’ll stop, but-”
“No.” she looked him in the eye. “Don’t stop. Please. I want you, too.”
He kissed her, almost violently as fantasy and reality blurred. His hands spanned her waist, then one slid back to cup her buttock and the other slid up to caress her breast. She He caught her nipple between his fingers and squeezed and she pulled her mouth away to gasp in air.
“Oh, frak that’s good. Gods,” she hissed, as he did it again, and raked his nails across her ass through her jeans. Her own hands fumbled at his button and zipper, then abandoned them and started to tug at his shirt. “Off. Off, off off,” she chanted, and he obliged her before reaching down and unfastening his own jeans himself and pushing them down his hips. He stood and looked down at her, bare from the waist up as she lay propped up on the floor like some sculpture.
“Gods, you’re gorgeous. Kara...”
“Don’t talk. Please don’t talk.” She was fighting tooth and nail with herself to keep from thinking about it. If he started talking, she wouldn’t have any choice but to face what they were doing.
She stood, and grabbed him by the open front of his pants and started walking backwards until the backs of her knees hit the couch and she fell onto it. He toppled with her, grabbing bracing himself on the back so that he was looming over her. It was a short distance to her mouth and he crossed it, kissing her deeply. It was the perfect position for her hands to play along the muscles of his hips and abdomen, and she delighted in how the jumped when she raked her nails over a particularly sensitive spot.
“Shit, Kara, that’s-” She reclaimed his mouth and he forgot about what he was saying. When her hands slid into his waistband to cup him and bring him out he bit down on her lip hard enough to taste blood. She was too busy reveling in the texture of him, of incredibly soft skin over unbelievably hard muscle, to care.
He jerked back and forth against her hands and then he stood up straight abruptly. His hands banded around her wrists hard. “You have to stop that.”
She looked up at him impishly. “Why?”
He leaned in and his voice grew quiet and took on an edge. “Because if you don’t, I. Might. Will. Come. And I don’t want to do that until I’ve been inside of you.” He brought her hands up to his mouth and nipped lightly at the sensitive inside of both of her wrists before releasing her.
She was pushing off her jeans even as he was shucking his own. Then he pulled her up so that he could switch their positions and pulled her down so that she was straddling his lap. His hands clamped down on her hips to guide her. His cock brushed against her wetness and he gritted his teeth. “You’re really hot. And really wet.”
“You’re really hot, and really hard,” she said back.
“The two go together, don’t you think?” and he shifted and lifted her the fraction of an inch he needed to slide inside.
Tight.
Wet.
Close.
“Oh, Gods,” she moaned, and rested her head on her his shoulder. One of his hands left her hip and slid up her side and past her breast to thread through her hair and cradle her there. He was torn between wanting to drive into her as hard as he could until they both exploded and wanting to take care of her, and cherish her. To touch her softly and take her slowly so that they could both feel every inch.
Then she clenched around him and he lost the choice along with his control. They writhed against each other, bucking and straining until he felt her close around him so tightly that she nearly forced him out. She went over the edge and the as she did her eyes snapped open and met his. He fell off the edge and into her, mind, body, and soul.
*****
The next morning when he woke up, he was alone on his floor. All traces of her were gone. He tried to call, but all he got was her machine.
Three days later he realized she really wasn’t going to call him back.
*****
The next time he saw her was several months later at their mother’s birthday picnic. She’d refused his calls, hadn’t responded to his letters, and had neatly managed to be out, away, or absent everytime he’d tried to track her down at either her apartment or at their parent’s house. His father had asked him once if everything was alright between them, and had mentioned it was odd that he hadn’t seen them together in such a long time, but he’d brushed off his concerns with some drivel /drabble about both just being very very busy with their post-graduate lives.
When he walked into the family’s backyard he she was the first thing he saw. His eyes were drawn to her like a lodestone.
She looked thinner than he’d remembered her being - almost as thin as she’d been become in the months immediately following her parents’ deaths. She was talking to their mother, who was serving up some kind of salad into smaller bowls. He knew the minute moment she looked up at and saw him, because it caught him right in the chest. It felt like she’d literally hit him, even though she was feet meters yards away. Then His mother caught sight of him and called his name, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of Her. His sister.
Not a sister. Not really. Not blood. It was his mantra. His prayer for the last five months.
As she his mother stepped around the table to walk towards him, he watched Her reach a hand out and set it on a tall figure beside her. It was the first time he noticed that it was a man he didn’t recognize. she A man who was obviously there with her.
“Lee. I’m glad you made it!”
His attention was pulled away as he greeted his mother. He hugged her and kissed her cheek, but kept Kara in the corner of his eye. She was still holding onto the tall man, as if she was afraid.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Mom.”
“Good.” She took his hand and turned back the way she’d come. “You should come meet Evan.”
“Evan?” he tried, and probably failed to keep the distaste out of his voice, based on the look his mother gave him.
“Yes. Kara brought him. She met him at school and - well, really, she can tell you. Here we are. Evan, this is my son, Lee. Lee, this is Kara’s boyfriend, Evan.”
He could feel his face heat with anger.
Jealousy the little voice told him. You’re jealous.
Because she’s mine, he hissed back inside his own head. He doesn’t have a right to touch her.
Neither do you, it replied.
*****
He made it through dinner
*****
TWINS
*****
Her first memories are of floating. It’s warm and wet and close and dark, but she’s not alone. From the very beginning, he’s there. Jockeying for room in what is quickly becoming a too-tight space, close enough to touch, even though there’s a thin film veil between them. Sometimes they fight, because it’s an awfully small space for two very big personalities like they are, but other times, when it’s quiet, when they’re lulled by their mother’s heartbeat, they curl close and there’s comfort there.
*****
They’re inseperable most of their early lives. When they graduate to real beds they’re given bunks, but inevitably one ends up being used almost exclusively for toys. Most mornings they’re curled up together just like they’ve always been.
School is a jarring transition. They’re not in the same class their first year, and more than once Kara’s teacher has to come knocking on Lee’s class’s door to find her missing student.
They have their first real fight at age three. Their mother never remembered what started it, but it involved Kara hitting him with a book and then him running away to hide in the other room all afternoon. As the story goes she cried until he crept out, his own little face tear-stained, to comfort her.
*****
ALTERNATE FUTURE 1
*****
It had been Kara’s doorstep that he’d shown up on after his rather disasterous meeting with Gianne and Kara’s apartment he’d stayed at his last night in Caprica City before shipping out on the Atlantia. She’d gotten him good and drunk, gotten him to spill out the whole sordid story, and then made sure he was washed, sober, pressed and polished enough to report for duty the following morning.
As soon as the guns were lowered Kara launched herself at him and he caught her in an awkward bear hug.
“You’re alive!” he exclaimed, and realized
*****
They met during her third semester as an Art student at Leonid University. He showed up in her Sophomore seminar on early Picon art movements late, his schedule having been rearranged five times due to a clerical error. It was apparent immediately (immediately apparent?) that he didn’t know pen and ink from watercolors, but something about him drew her attention.
She ended up offering him her notes from the first half of class, as well as a standing offer to help him with the homework if he needed it. He asked if it was that apparent he didn’t belong in the class and she just smiled.
“It is a little odd to see a non-major in there. Professor Kowska’s seminars aren’t for the faint-hearted.”
“I needed an Art credit for my general studies,” he offered as they sat down in the main comissary with their lunch.
She arched an eyebrow. “You couldn’t’ve stuck with Basic Drawing or Intro to Art History?”
“They were full.”
“So wait a semester.” She studied her sandwich for a moment before shoving it aside and unwrapping baklava instead. He tilted his head and she smiled “Desert before lunch. It’s a lifestyle choice.”
He laughed. “I’m trying to graduate early. The next two years I’m going to have the entire courseload for my major, so I have to finish my general reqs this semester.”
“Poor you.”
“Is she really that bad?” He watched the baklava disappear, and started on his own sandwich.
“She can be. She doesn’t have any patience for slackers or the uninformed.”
“I’m not a slacker,” he stated flatly.
“I didn’t say you were,” she smiled that she’d gotten a rise out of him. “But she expects the best out of her students, and you’re at a considerable disadvantage because you’re not an art major student.”
“That’s why you so selflessly offered to tutor me,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“Oh, of course. You bowled me over with your considerable charms.”
“I do ok with women.”
“I’m sure you do.”
*****
Three weeks later, he’d taken her out to dinner as a thank you for helping him pass their first exam, and he’d ended up showing her just how good with a woman he could be. She’d happily appreciated every second of it, and all his considerable talents. But she’d thrown him when she’d pulled on her clothes when they were done and started to gather her things.
“Where’re you going?”
She looked up. “Home.” And she said it like it was the most natural, obvious thing in the world.
He raised up on one elbow and regarded her sleepily. “You don’t have to, you know. You can stay.”
“I know.” And I want to, she thought to herself, and it was exactly why she didn’t. She wanted to too much. She smiled at him, walked over as she was buttoning up her pants and leaned down to kiss him, then slipped easily from his grasp and grabbed her bag.
“I’ll see you Thursday, ok?” He frowned and she bit at the inside of her cheek. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she could see that it was. “I enjoyed it, Lee. I really did. Just trust me, ok? It’s better like this.”
With that cryptic statement, she bolted slowly for the door, not letting herself look back.
*****
He stopped her in the Quad after class two days later.
“What the frak are you doing, Kara?”
She jerked away from him in surprise - she hadn’t seen him angry before (she’d never seen him angry). “Excuse me?” she spit out, responding to the anger in his eyes with irritation in her own (with the irritation in her voice).
“What happened? We slept together, and then you leave, and now you’re ignoring me? What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry - what exactly did you think was going on? We frakked, Lee - it was fun, but it wasn’t some kind of declaration of affection or commitment. We’re friends, we were drunk, it happens. But that doesn’t make it into something.”
“Maybe not for you. Obviously not for you, but I-”
“Oh, please don’t tell me you’re in love with me. For the Gods’ sakes.”
“No. No, I’m not in love with you. But I was interested in you.” He let the past tense sting her.
She struck back. “Has your interest been satisfied now? Was I a good lay?”
He recoiled. “I didn’t mean that. Dammit, don’t twist my words around!”
“You’re doing a pretty damn good job of it on your own.”
They’d both completely forgotten that they were having the ever increasingly louder argument in the middle of class change, in the middle of the Quad, in front of a huge number of witnesses. Neither particularly cared.
“You know what? Never mind. Just forget it. Forget all of it.”
“Fine.”
*****
She could remember things so clearly - what it was like to love him, hate him, find him, lose him, to betray him... to be hated by him - although she’d had as much practice at that in their present life. But other things - the power behind taking vows with to him (which had been nothing like the vows or experience she’d had when she’d married Sam Anders), what it was like to bear his children - and a dark, shadowed room when the Gods moved into them and through them, binding them together.
She found herself in the ship’s Chapel Temple, staring at the heavy book of the scrolls that lay on the altar. Her chest still hurt, was all she could think - Cottle had said that it would for days yet, but she kept being distracted by it and felt like she should be focusing on other things.
She hadn’t been able to talk to Lee since they’d she’d been released. He was still down in sick bay, Dee at his side as his constant companion, just like when she’d shot him. She felt like she was going crazy. She wasn’t sure if any of it was true - how could it be - but it had felt real. They were memories, not fantasies. Somehow, she knew that.
“Kara Captain Thrace?”
She startled slightly and turned to see the Temple priestess. She realized she couldn’t remember her name. “Yes?”
“Are you all right?” She had an air about her like Elosha had. Something maternal and wise that seemed to be part and parcel with the job description. She felt safe, safe enough that Kara realized things were bubbling to the surface, wanting to spill out into words. But another part of her shied away, told her to be wary. The last thing she needed was someone to decide she should have her head examined.
“Yeah. Fine. Sorry, I was just looking for a quiet place to think for awhile. But I can go, if you need-”
“No, no child. Please, stay as long as you feel you need to.” She settled in the pew across the aisle from her. “I was just wondering if you needed (wanted?) to talk about anything.”
She fought with herself. Then, “Do you believe that we’ve lived before?”
“That’s an interesting way to phrase it. Usually what I’m asked is do I believe we will live again.” She looked thoughtful for a second. “Yes. ‘All this has happened before-’”
“’And all this will happen again.’ I know. And I believe that... but... why don’t we remember?”
“It’s an interesting question. Part of the Gods plan for us, I imagine. Perhaps we cannot comprehend that much life, perhaps we aren’t capable of holding so many memories in. Or perhaps if we remembered, we wouldn’t be able to learn the things we need to learn. We wouldn’t experience what the Gods want us to experience.”
“What happens to us if we do remember?”
“I don’t know. Can I assume you’re questions aren’t just random?”
Kara bit her lip. “No.”
“What do you remember?”
“Everything. Nothing. Lives - so many lives.”
“Was it while you were injured?”
Kara looked at her sharply. “How do you know-”
“The Admiral was in here when you were in surgery. And news travels quickly on a Battlestar. Did you have visions?”
“I’m not a prophet. I’m not - nothing like what the President had. I’m not crazy-”
“I didn’t say you were. Nor did I say I ask if you’d had prophetic visions.”
Chastened, Kara answered. “Yes. I didn’t just see them. I lived them. I relived lives. I just don’t understand why.”
“Perhaps the Gods had something they needed to tell you or teach you. Was there a common thread to any of them?”
“Who I was with. A person - someone I know now, was there. He didn’t look like himself, but I know it was him. He was always”
“A soulmate.”
Kara looked up at her and snorted in disgust. “These were hardly romantic fairytales.”
“And ‘romantic fairytales’ are hardly the truth of the matter of soulmates. Do you know what it means to be soulmates with someone, Kara Captain?”
“Apparently not.”
“Two souls - sometimes more -yes,” she said when Kara gave her an incredulous look, “more than two. Souls that for one reason or another - ancient magic, perhaps, but more likely the will of the Gods and the Fates are bound together by something stronger than fate the Gods, stronger even than fate the Fates.”
“Nothing’s stronger than the Fates. They control even the will control the Gods.”
“Even the Fates bow before Ananke. Necessity.” She
“Why would she care about me?”
“So Necessity decides that certain souls have to be together. Why?”
“Why not?” When Kara rolled her eyes, she laid a hand on her shoulder. “No one truly knows why the Gods or Powers do the things that they do. Why they lay the paths out for us that they do. Perhaps, it is to give us companionship. Or perhaps it is the way they teach us. Through others, and others through ourselves.”
“Why do we do so much damage. I remember hurting and be hurt - so many different times, but it’s all the same.”
“Then perhaps they’re trying to tell you you haven’t learned the lesson yet.”
“Everyone I get close too... I hurt them. I don’t always mean to, but they it happens anyway.”
“Do you feel you’re cursed?”
“Maybe. For longer and than I’d thought, apparently.”
“I remember a room. With masks, and candles or torches. It was a long time ago. We were doing something, some kind of ritual. But - it sounds crazy. It does, but he was God to me. That’s heresy.”
“No. Not always. How much do you know about the ancient practices?”
“Not much.”
“Once, during the Anthesteria, a certain ceremony was practiced on the second to last night. The night of Khoes. The wife of the King or Basilis, the Basilina, was given away to the God Dionysus for one night of pleasure. She was escorted to a room, was made to wear a mask, and then He would come to her. And take her in heiros gamos. The Divine marriage.”
“They had sex?” Her stomach fluttered as memories flashed through her mind.
“Yes. And it was more powerful than sex. It bound them together.”
“Then what happened?”
“Cycles repeat. No one has ever recorded who was chosen as the God, it wasn’t spoken of - and perhaps even she didn’t know. But every year on the night of Khoes they would come together in silence and music and torchlight until the fall of Kobol and the Exodus.”
“Why did they stop?”
“The Pythia prophecied that the Gods were removed when we reached the Twelve Worlds. They watched over us, but were no longer with us. They - He wouldn’t have come to a mortal woman anymore.”
“So that’s how soulmates get made?”
“No. Or not entirely, but it could certainly have the be the kind of memory you’re speaking of. Soulmates need each other, they have the ultimate power to understand each other, but with that power comes an inordinate ability to harm each other. Love and hate are the same coin, just different sides. But they aren’t someone you can be indifferent too.”
“How do you stop it?”
“You don’t. You can’t. It’s a part of Ananke’s Net, and you’re trapped in it, just as surely as everyone else. The Humans, the Cylons, even the Gods.”
“Why would they show all this to me?”
“So you can learn. So you can perhaps see the patterns in what you do? Maybe it’s time you stop hurting each other. Or maybe so you can see the possiblities before you.”
“They showed me futures. The past. Other lives that I couldn’t have lived because they’re now, but they’re not what really happened. I thought I was just going crazy.”
“You’re not crazy - or if you are, it’s not because of this. These memories are gifts. The experiences you’ve had are gifts.”
“I don’t know if anyone else would believe me. And he - the other person, he’s not a believer. Not really. I’m the religious one. He won’t believe any of it.”
“Maybe he doesn’t have to - but maybe, you might be surprised by what he’s seen.”
*****
“Do you ever wonder about the Gods, Lee?”
“What do you mean?”
“I know you’re not religious, but do you believe in them?”
“I don’t know if I do or not. Sometimes... but if they do, how can they allow all this to happen?”
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no subject
Date: 2006-11-10 02:15 am (UTC)where should I go with it?
I've hit that lovely wall known as week 2, and have lost all direction.
(am very pleased you like it so much, btw. ::vbg::)
no subject
Date: 2006-11-10 02:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-10 03:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-10 03:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-10 04:03 am (UTC)I'm contemplating having a running theme of them dying together. Both through chance and through intention. It's a brand new thought on the matter though.
no subject
Date: 2006-11-10 04:06 am (UTC)