The Lost Warrior 11 - Conveniences
Title: The Lost Warrior
Author: Soledad
For disclaimer, rating, etc. see the secondary index page
Author’s notes:
President Darius’ name and office hails from A. Stacey’s “Galactica”-stories - at that time, I’ve mistaken him for a canon character. But since my interpretation is a rather different one, I decided to keep him. For visuals, he’s “played” by Damien Sargue, the French actor who starred in the “Roméo et Juliette” musical (original casting), together with long hair and all.
Droxine and her father Plasus are canon characters from “The Cloud-Minders”.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
CHAPTER 11 - CONVENIENCES
In the eyes of the unbiased beholder, Aquarius was perhaps the most beautiful - but definitely the most intriguing - world of the New Colonies. A lush water planet, classified as Class M only because of the considerable amount of its landmasses, which, however, didn’t form large continents but were scattered all over the arctic and temperate climate areas. It was a relatively young world as planets go, with a dotted chain of twelve kilometron high, active volcanoes girding its equatorial belt, and with a gravity only slightly lower than standard 1 G.
The unnumbered islands varied in size from naked volcanic rocks peeking out of the ocean, offering barely enough space for sea avians to nest, to impressive landmasses as huge as Australia, on Earth. The dominating climate was pleasantly warm, like that of Earth’s Mediterranean areas, and both the oceans and the larger islands had an amazing variety of native plants and animals, none of them sentient.
In other worlds, it could have become a much sought after recreation planet, just like Risa, had it not been so far on the very edge of Federation territory. But the Federation’s loss was the New Colonies’ gain, and for his part, President Darius was supremely content that the Aquarians had managed to claim this world for themselves.
Not only because it had fleeting similarities with their old home. Placed in the Hetari System, they had New Gemini and New Sagittara as neighbours - the former one with strong Federation contacts and a sorted-out Cylon basestar in orbit, the latter one with the strongest military in the entire sector. And while believed too young and too naïve to prevail against such scheming old vulpines as Uri, Lobe or Anton, Darius had one advantage on them: he never underestimated the military.
That would have been really foolish from the only son of Devon, the legendary Commander of the Fourth Fleet. And though he didn’t follow his father’s distinguished career (an unusual one for an Aquarian in any case), he’d been taught loyalty and tactical thinking at Devon’s knees; that, and the necessity to choose one’s allies well. Those teachings had motivated him to accept responsibility when Sire Uri had unexpectedly tossed him into the middle of the power struggle during the elections.
Personally, he’d have preferred a quiet life - becoming a minor diplomat and visiting Federation worlds would have been his highest ambitions. But as the last living scion of a however mythical royal clan, he had responsibilities towards his people. He couldn’t allow Sire Geller, that senile old fool and Anton’s lap daggit to keep representing - or, as was mostly the case, not representing - Aquarian interests any longer.
And then there had been Anton, too. The shrewd old Scorpian had very obviously had the office of the President in eye, back then, when Adama had already been out of his way. Darius had known from his late father how unpredictable and dangerous Anton could become with too much power in his hands - it had always been a most unpleasant trait by Scorpian aristocrats. Darius had been adamant (and several of his fellow Councillors had whole-heartedly agreed) that Anton’s eventual election had to be prevailed.
So he had sought out alliances, shamelessly used the legendary name of his father and his own popularity among the young… and, unexpectedly enough, he had won. Which, according to his secretary, proved that the simple population was a lot wiser than its elated leaders.
Winning the elections had only been the beginning, of course; and a bumpy start it was, as the pilots liked to say. Quite a few of the scheming old - or not so old - fools had been re-elected in the Quorum (which meant that the simple folk wasn’t that wise, after all), and they had been doing their best (or rather worst) to keep changes from happening ever since. At least he could count on Caprica, Gemini and Libra at any time, and Canceria and Virgo could usually be persuaded to support him.
But that was still only half the Quorum, as Piscera and Taura were extremely unpredictable, while Aries, Leonis and Scorpia had built a strong opposition, and Sagittara usually remained neutral. It was imperative that he found strong allies among the Federation worlds, to balance out his precarious position at home.
Fortunately, that was an area where he could keep up his hopes. The fact that Aquarius had offered refuge to several semi-humanoid races, both during the War and their flight, appealed to the Federation greatly. Besides, they could afford it. Due to their world’s peculiar geography, the handful of amphibian Hasari survivors could create their own, undisturbed environment on a number of small islands as well as the reptilian Delphians, whose remote colony they’d evacuated on their way to Earth, and who now lived on one of the major landmasses.
The mixed population and the various cultures living peacefully together on New Aquarius had attracted many Federation anthropologists, and those had called in the help of their respective homeworlds. Denebians, Deltans, Rigelians, humans of different origins had come to help, and Aquarius accepted any help they could get gladly.
The most recent great achievement had been to become the new project of Alpha III, especially as the sophisticated culture of that human colony had many similarities with the Aquarian way of life. But the greatest - and most welcome - surprise was the offer of a formal alliance, coming from Mu Leonis II, or better known by its indigenous name as Ardana.
Oh, certainly, all Federation support was needed and crucial, as Federation technology was generally more advanced than its Colonial counterpart, especially that of the founding members. Yet it was Ardana’s help which had been most sought after, since the very beginning. Ardana not only provided the technology to the rebuilding, they also supplied the workers, in great numbers. Not just engineers and technicians and mechanics like the Andorians or the Tellarites, but also skilled and reliable men who could work under the harshest circumstances and on very little food.
Darius suspected that the Ardanans must have had a very good reason to send their lower class off-planet en masse; that it was probably just a convenient method for them to get rid of some unwanted people without raising the suspicion of Federation observers. But he had chosen not to ask. It hadn’t been the most honourable thing, but the sad truth was, the Colonies needed those workers.
The refugees had done everything in their power to rebuild their worlds, but they were too few, run too ragged during the flight for a work of such magnitude. Not to mention that many of them lacked the necessary skills, too. Quite frankly, Darius was not the only one who considered the Troglyte workers as a blessing. He’d deal with his conscience later, he’d decided early on, and had been surprised to learn that Sire Adama, the man with the strongest principles among them all, grudgingly agreed with him.
The offer of the Ardanan Council of Advisors to marry of to him Siress Droxine, the only daughter of High Advisor Plasus, had come a bit unexpected. He’d been shown records of Ardana, of the floating city of Stratos above the clouds, and also of the siress herself, of course. He’d also realized that the various Federation worlds would most likely seek out their own alliances as the Colonies did. He also understood that such a formal alliance would most likely strengthen the position of Ardana within the Federation as well as that of the ruling class on their own homeworld.
So, it shouldn’t have surprised him too much, after all. It seemed that Ardana needed the Colonies as much as the Colonies needed Ardana. A political marriage would formalize their alliance and ensure former Federation support. Yet he couldn’t agree with the offer at once… not before he got the chance to speak with the bride chosen for him first.
There was nothing wrong with accepting an arranged Sealing of convenience, for the good of his people. But he wouldn’t bind someone to himself in an unbreakable bond based on a lie.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The lady Droxine, daughter and most cherished possession of High Advisor Oiran Plasus, observed herself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror in her quarters aboard the Ardanan courier ship. This was her first chance to put on proper clothes since they’d left Ardana. Her father hadn’t wanted their journey to become known before he could be certain that it would provide the desired results, so they’d travelled in the guise of simple citizens.
They had met Starfleet patrols and other Federation representatives on their way, of course, but it had usually been the captain of the ship who’d dealt with those, and even if someone got a glimpse at her, they wouldn’t recognize her. Although - as one of the highest celebrities of her homeworld, she frequently appeared on TriVid - this time people hadn’t even guessed that she’d left Ardana. Controlling the media came handy sometimes.
Of course, they probably wouldn’t have recognized him face-to-face, either. Which lay all in the clothes and the hairdo.
Droxine was considered a living artwork among her people, and in a way, it as true. Her body had been shaped to perfection by various means of genetic resequencing and constructive surgery and kept that way through rigorous diet and training. Unlike other Federation worlds that rejected, even prohibited genetic engineering, this was very normal for Ardana - even if not spoken of. Female members of the ruling class had to be perfect, no matter what it cost.
And she was perfect, according to Ardanan norm. But that perfection had to be displayed generously, so that people could freely admire the spotless arch of her back, the fullness of her breasts as they lay heavily in the strategically placed folds of silk, the spotless smoothness of her skin. It required an intricate hairdo and large earrings that made her graceful neck look even larger, and dramatic eye make-up to emphasize the brightness of her eyes. No casual onlooker would associate that image of perfection with the woman in simple travelling clothes and her hair in a tight bun.
People were used to look at her body, not at her face, despite the classic, high cheekbones and azure eyes. After all, every female member of the ruling class was blonde and blue-eyed and fair-skinned. They were bred that way, and if nature failed to make them perfect, the genetic engineers did.
She sighed, pulling a bit on the heavy, stiff tail of her floor-long dress, so that it would glide behind her smoothly. Getting caught in something would have... unfortunate consequences, as the weight of the tail was what held the front of the dress in place. Not that it would have bother her to show off her beauty even more, but such exhibitionist tendencies wasn’t accepted in her circles, and she had a reputation to protect. Besides, a perfect Ardanan woman wasn’t allowed to be clumsy.
After a moment of consideration, she sprayed her bare shoulders and the valley between her breasts with the special perfume that increased the effects of her pheromones. It was a dirty trick, but she couldn’t afford to fail. The marriage of convenience wasn’t a done deal yet. President Darius had tentatively signalled his interest but wanted to meet her first. She had to snare him at once. Ardana needed this alliance badly. Ever since Captain Kirk had overthrown the natural order of things on their planet, the position of her father was a very insecure one.
Oiran Plasus wasn’t called king or president or any other of those meaningless titles, but he was the de facto ruler of Ardana. Or, at the very least, he had been, until Kirk’s interference, which had left him in the not enviable position of picking up the pieces left after the visit of the Enterprise and trying to establish some semblance of order again. It wasn’t an easy task to perform, and its success was still far from certain.
Droxine Plasus was a princess in everything but the official title. She had always known that one day she’d have to marry a promising ally in order to secure her father’s rule. She had no problems with that. She’d been born and bred and thoroughly trained for that very rule, and she knew she’d be able to play her part perfectly, no matter whom her father - or the Council of Advisors - selected for her.
In fact, the current choice was better than she could have hoped. At least President Darius was young and, assuming the holopics had not been manipulated, very pretty, with that long, wavy dark hair, those large, dark eyes and that charming smile. She’d ordered a collection of his poems previous their journey and found that - as far as she could judge by the translation - he was a talented poet. She’d have to learn Aquarian to make a better judgement, of course, but it seemed that they might make a good match.
Besides, this marriage would give her the chance to be far, far from home when the weakened structure of power came crashing down onto the heads of her father and his fellow Advisors. Which, with just a bit of bad luck, could happen any time now. She didn’t want to witness that - and to be buried under the wreckage. So no, she couldn’t afford to miss this chance.
She added a bit more perfume for good measure, threw her head back in the well-trained, superior manner of her class, and rushed out of her quarters, heading towards the transporter room.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
No matter how many times he’d seen Federation transporters at work - or experienced their smooth working on his own body, for that matter - the effect never failed to amaze President Darius. The miraculous was as the whirling sparkles of golden light solidified into a living, breathing person (or even into a solid object) was so far beyond what had been considered science back in the Old Colonies that it seemed almost… magical.
And, he admitted as a wry afterthought, it was a grand entrée for any woman who wanted to impress her audience. Materializing from a column of golden light - what a way to arrive! He had to admit - aside from the fact that the dramatic entrée appealed to the artist in him very much - that his bride-to-be was doing an excellent job at the impressing part.
And she was exquisite, too, even more so than on the pictures and holovids. Her slim, smooth torso reminded of that of a very young boy, with slightly board shoulders but fragile arms, a wasp’s tail that he could have encircled with his hands, a flat belly that showed the results of regular yet careful workout to keep the feminine shape, lean hips and a long graceful neck.
She was practically naked to the waist, save from a broad strip of folded silk criss-crossing her firm breasts and holding a long, triangular tail tat dragged beyond her on the floor. The long shirt of the extravagant dress left her navel free and was open on one side to the hip, revealing a long, perfectly shaped leg at each step she made. Her honey-blonde hair was piled up in complicated twists, curls and knots, leaving only one long, wavy tress hanging between her shoulder blades. Large, intricate earrings dangled from her ears, almost touching her bare shoulders and emphasizing the perfect arch of her neck.
Her face was smooth and doll-like, with prominent cheekbones, rose petal lips and wide eyes of an intense blue, her eyelids made up in blue and silver, contrasting artfully the long, ink-black eyelashes. She looked all helpless and child-like, perhaps even a little scared. But when Darius met those seemingly innocent eyes for a moment, he knew at once that all the naïveté displayed in such a perfect package was nothing but show. This young woman was smart, calculating and out to conquer… with excellent results, if the slack-mouthed admiration displayed on the faces most men around was any indication.
Athena, who was watching the scene from the side, couldn’t help but giggle in amusement, seeing the powerful members of the Quorum, richly-clad and oh-so-self-secure most of the time, opening and closing their respective mouths repeatedly, without getting out a single word.
“That’s a first,” she commented with a little evil satisfaction; at any other time, some councillors would drive anyone mad with their smooth speeches that always covered their true intentions under multiple levels of lies and half-truths. “I haven’t seen Sire Uri so speechless since he met his first Deltan.”
“It’s the same effect, basically,” a deep, sensuous voice, that was definitely not her brother’s, replied, and she felt the now familiar hot shiver running through her entire body - a feeling that always indicated the presence of a Deltan. She turned around and recognized Iloran, the Federation Council member of 114-Delta V.
“Ambassador,” she smiled, basking in his very enjoyable presence as she would in a warm, scented bath. “I didn’t know you were in our sector again.”
“I’m negotiating further support for New Gemini,” the handsome, bald man kissed her hand, courteously keeping his own pheromones under tight control to spare her the embarrassment. “Sire Ixion -” that was the Gemini councillor - “thought that I might enjoy this reception, so I let him talk me into accompanying him.”
“And? Are you enjoying yourself?” Athena inquired.
Dealing with a Deltan of the opposite gender was always a little bit intoxicating, but in a completely harmless way. Deltans were, as a rule, brutally honest. Being telepathic, all of them, they found it more or less obligatory to speak their minds clearly, to even out the disadvantage of non-telepaths that way. As one who spent a lot of her time among double-talking diplomats, Athena found this custom of theirs very refreshing.
“Oh, extremely,” Iloran assured her. “I’ve heard that Ardanan females have been selectively bred for centuries to regain conscious control over their pheromones, but I’ve never seen them actually do so - until now.”
Athena gave the exquisite blonde a hard look.
“So that’s what she’s doing?” she asked. “Trying to snare the President?”
“I believe,” Iloran replied thoughtfully, “that she’s already beyond the trying phase. Very… informative, indeed. I didn’t expect her to be this good at it.”
“But you’re better, aren’t you?” Athena asked. “You could throw her off-kilt in a micron, right?”
“Of course,” the Deltan laughed. “In fact, I need to hold back considerately, in order not to ruin her peak performance. It wouldn’t be fair; you see she’s doing her best.”
“Her best might not be enough,” Athena commented, watching President Darius, tall, elegant and extravagant as always, attending to his guest of honour. He was slightly confused, for some reason, but by far not the same slack-mouthed fool as many of his fellow councillors.
“He seems remarkably resistant,” Iloran agreed in surprise. “That’s… unexpected. Her pheromones are strong enough to wake the dead.”
“Just not the right sort of pheromones, they aren’t,” Athena grinned. “President Darius is flit - and fairly open about it.”
The eggshell-smooth brow of Iloran furled in an uncertain frown - then he understood the hint and laughed.
“Oh. That explains his unusually strong reaction to me,” he said. “I’ll have to be careful around him, then. But since this is an arranged marriage for mutual political benefits, he’ll need wed her anyway, I guess. I wonder why did he want to see her in the first place. She could have arrived with the signed marriage contracts already.”
“Perhaps he wanted to see the merchandise before buying it,” Athena said, a bit maliciously. Iloran gave her a searching look but decided against asking.
“He could have done worse,” he said. “Ardanan noblewomen play their roles perfectly. She’ll always behave as it’s expected from a First Lady. She’ll be decorative, friendly, well-informed and intelligent, when she has to entertain guests. She’ll turn a blind eye on his… sidesteps. And she’ll produce him heirs, to keep the royal bloodline of Aquarius alive. Not to mention the fact that a proper Sealing - to a woman - will take the wind out of the sails of the dogmatic Kobolian opposition. It’s the perfect match… in political sense.”
“Perhaps,” Athena said reluctantly. “But he’ll never be free of her again. Or she of him. A Sealing cannot be undone. Ever. ‘Til death do us part’ - so is it sworn in the ritual.”
“Why would either of them want it undone?” Iloran asked. “All Ardanan noblewomen ever wish is a proper marriage that elevates their status. Personal interests play no role whatsoever in their choices. And she’ll be the perfect screen for him, behind which he can pursue his… other interests.”
“It’s still not right,” Athena said stubbornly.
The Deltan shook his bald head. “It’s not for us to be the judge of that, Siress Athena. Let them negotiate the terms of their alliance in private.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Droxine made it through the extremely long reception almost in autopilot. The proper greetings and smiles were so indoctrinated in her very nature that she didn’t need to pay much attention to executing them. Instead, she watched the people closely - and with suspicion - trying to find out who could be her main concurrent in the fight for President Darius’ attention.
The young man’s almost complete lack of reaction to her pheromones had disturbed her greatly. She knew he was physically hale - she had received the necessary medical records, and besides, there had been a side note of him wanting heirs. Most other males present (with the exception of the very old) had been completely overwhelmed - drooling idiots would have been the correct phrase, had she, well-bred Ardanan aristocrat as she was, not refrained from using such crude expressions. So what was wrong with her pre-selected husband?
Was he involved with someone already? Deeply enough to withstand any other temptation on a biochemical level? No, she doubted it. Human males were not made that way, and while President Darius originated from a different galaxy, genetically he was one hundred per cent human - and very male, according to his medical file. Despite his vaguely androgynous looks, his testosterone levels were well above average. How could he possibly have withstood her, then?
And yet he most definitely had. She couldn’t notice any of the usual reactions - aside from some mild confusion and a slight blush, which was more due to the situation than to her person.
She continued her way through the spacious ballroom that hosted the reception, exchanging polite words and reserved smiles, as it was expected from her, but her inner turmoil was increasing. She was not allowed to fail. That would mean the end of her father’s rule back home and exile for her on some backward Federation planet. And if she could never return to Stratos, not even for short visits, what was life truly worth? Living in the dirt, on the planet surface, was bad enough - well, at least New Aquarius was a pretty planet. If she had to give up life in the clouds, at least she wanted a pleasant place in exchange.
“Siress Droxine,” a low, polite voice murmured in her right.
Turning, she saw the slender young man in the customary white of Aquarian employees she’d noticed earlier in Darius’ company. A handsome man of perhaps thirty, dark-haired and dark-eyed, with a pale skin and smooth, even features.
“Yes,” she said with patrician indifference. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m Leandros, President Darius’ personal aide,” he replied. “The President would like to have a word with you, Siress… in private.”
“That would be hardly appropriate,” considering the circumstances,” she said dismissively.
The aide smiled. He had an infectious smile, but Droxine had the nagging suspicion that he was hiding something… a lot of things, actually. Well, as the confidant of President Darius, he probably was.
“There’s no need for concern,” he said. “President Darius is waiting for you on the gallery,” he pointed upwards discretely. “You’ll be in full sight all the time. We don’t want any… misunderstandings, either.”
Droxine looked up. She could indeed see her husband-to-be standing among the carved pillars of the small balcony. With his long, dark hair falling in waves to the small of his back, he offered a truly picturesque view was even more emphasized by his light, aqua robe, embroidered with silver and small pearls. He was doubtlessly very handsome - and very visible up there.
“All right,” Droxine said. “Show me the way, please. Perhaps it will be useful for us to speak openly with each other.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The official announcement about President Darius’ Sealing with the Lady Droxine Plasus of Ardana was made on the same evening. Elegantly phrased communiqués were sent to all major Federation worlds, including the invitation to witness the ceremony - the very first Kobolian Sealing between a Colonial nobleman of royal blood and a Federation aristocrat. That was an event of great importance for both sides.
The press went completely nuts, of course. Whole ships filled with newspeople and TriVid reporters and camera teams made their way to New Aquarius at best speed, to make reports about the Wedding of the Century™. High-ranking Federation representatives boarded their private yachts and hurried over to the Kobol sector to see the event - and to be seen participating. Being in the public eye could never hurt, after all; being important wasn’t enough - one also needed to appear important. But the event also put the New Colonies in the news again, which was badly needed, in order to secure themselves further Federation support.
“I’m beginning to realize that President Darius may be a lot shrewder than I’d have given him credit for,” Apollo remarked on the day of the wedding. He and Athena were standing together in the room where the ceremony was supposed to take place, while Adama was still with the bridespeople in the back chamber.
“Perhaps he is,” Athena replied. “I still can’t believe that Father was willing to take part in this scheme. It’s not like him. He usually takes matters of faith more seriously.”
“What did you expect him to do?” Apollo asked seriously. “To refuse the President’s request? He’s the closest thing we have to a Kobolian priest - had he refused his blessing, it would have dire consequences. Consequences the Quorum can’t afford right now. The balance of power is precarious enough as it is - undermining the President’s authority would be fatal. You know that better than I. Why are you against this Sealing so much?”
“Because it’s fake,” Athena said bitterly. “People who Seal for eternity are supposed to do so out of love, not for political reasons. That’s what civilian marriages are for.”
“Oh, come on!” Apollo laughed. “You were every bit this… unpleasant when I Sealed with Serina three yahrens ago. Or do you doubt that we loved each other?”
“I don’t doubt for a micron that you loved her very much,” Athena replied. Apollo gave her a sharp look.
“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked with a frown.
Athena shook her head. “When I know more, I’ll tell you,” she said. “So far, all I have are vague suspicions.”
“I don’t understand you,” Apollo said, disappointed. “I thought you and Serina were friends.”
“We were on friendly terms,” Athena corrected, “for your sake. She never had any friends. Only admirers - or adversaries. Those were the only terms she was capable of thinking.”
Apollo wanted to make a sharp riposte, but the first tones of the most popular Aquarian wedding anthem interrupted their discussion. It was a slow, melodious piece that had survived the destruction due to the fact that the Rising Star had once been used as a place for spectacular marriages performed in space. Everyone felt silent, waiting for the beginning of the Sealing Ceremony.
New Aquarius being a multi-cultural world, the inhabitants belonged to a wide variety of religious communities. That meant they would have had to build just as many different temples - which they couldn’t afford. Habitats and industrial buildings were the priority. Thus they had chosen to build one large hall that was decorated according to the customs of the community that was using it at any given time.
At the moment, it represented an ancient Kobolian temple. The walls were hung with dark velvet drapes, adorned with golden symbols in Old Kobolian: matching quotes from the Script for a Sealing. The hall was shaped like a small amphitheatre, just in rectangular form, with three wide rows of stars leading down to the arena-like middle section. On the fourth side, within a sea of burning candles, a simple stone altar stood, and on the altar, in an open velvet box, lay the silver broche with the white gem - the symbol of the Lords of Kobol and Adama’s power.
Apollo felt his chest tighten seeing this scenario. It was eerily similar to the surroundings in which is own Sealing took place, aboard the Galactica. Even the wedding dress of the Lady Droxine looked like an exact copy of Serina’s: all the white tull and taffeta, shoulder-free, with a long, transparent veil attached to her wreath of Aquarian gamosepalous nightblooms - one of the very few flowers whose seeds could be saved from the old worlds. Another rare specimen from their lost home, pale lavender Scorpian orchids, decorated the simple altar.
“She’s truly beautiful,” Apollo said, eyeing the bride. “They make a very pretty couple.”
That they were indeed. President Darius, too, cut a handsome figure in the simple white robes of a Colonial councillor, wearing only a long, sleeveless surcoat of golden mesh over them.
The doors of the hall opened, and Adama, in his midnight-blue-and-silver dress uniform, with cape and collar and all, walked in. The music ended, and the cavernous room fell silent. Adama announced the names of the parties that were about to be Sealed, as custom demanded, then he looked at High Advisor Plasus, who stood in the circle of a few selected Ardanan nobles, all in their finest festive robes, proud and determined.
“Will the protector of Droxine consent to relinquishing his responsibility to Darius, the man she’s chosen to be Sealed to?” he asked.
Plasus, his bearded face shining with success and triumph, nodded.
“Yes,” he declared in a strong voice.
Someone offered the open box to Adama. He took out the sacred medallion and held it up for all to see.
“The simple words I’m about to speak are the most powerful in the universe,” he declared. “They seal a union between this man and this woman, which is not only for now but for all eternity.”
He took the long chain of the medallion in hand and - according to ancient ritual - wrapped it loosely around the clasped hands of the bridespeople.
“Darius… Droxine,” he continued. “Under the eyes of God, and bound by the symbol of the faith of the Lords of Kobol, I declare you Sealed.”
Darius turned to his newly wed wife and kissed her on the lips in a gentle but detached manner. The low murmur of the guests was broken by the beginning of the recessional music and the good wishes of friends and allies. Unlike Droxine, the President had no living family left.
“Well,” Athena said, after having paid her respects to the new couple, “now they have each other, and no power of the universe can change that. Let’s hope they are able to live with that lie forever.”
“Their problem, not ours,” Apollo reminded her. “They went into this with their eyes wide open. And we’ve both wasted enough time here when we’re needed in other places.”
“Are you returning to the Galactica?” Athena asked. Apollo nodded.
“It’s about time,” he said, “I’ve been away for too long. Care to come with me for a visit? Some of the old crew are still aboard, and I’m sure they’d be happy to see you again.”
“And I’d be happy to meet them,” Athena sighed. “But I can’t, not now. I’ve something more… urgent to do, and that soon.”
“Another mission in Federation territory?” Apollo teased. Athena shook her head.
“No,” she said seriously, “This time, it’s uncomfortably close to home.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
End notes:
Flit is a fanon expression for gay people, created by fellow Galactica writer Karen Davis.
The words of the Sealing Ceremony are directly taken from the episode “The Lost Planet of Gods”.
For visuals: President Darius, as played by Damien Sargue
Deltan Ambassador Iloran as played by Yul Brynner (in his Ramses make-up)
Chapter 12 - Wandering in Mist
Author: Soledad
For disclaimer, rating, etc. see the secondary index page
Author’s notes:
President Darius’ name and office hails from A. Stacey’s “Galactica”-stories - at that time, I’ve mistaken him for a canon character. But since my interpretation is a rather different one, I decided to keep him. For visuals, he’s “played” by Damien Sargue, the French actor who starred in the “Roméo et Juliette” musical (original casting), together with long hair and all.
Droxine and her father Plasus are canon characters from “The Cloud-Minders”.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
CHAPTER 11 - CONVENIENCES
In the eyes of the unbiased beholder, Aquarius was perhaps the most beautiful - but definitely the most intriguing - world of the New Colonies. A lush water planet, classified as Class M only because of the considerable amount of its landmasses, which, however, didn’t form large continents but were scattered all over the arctic and temperate climate areas. It was a relatively young world as planets go, with a dotted chain of twelve kilometron high, active volcanoes girding its equatorial belt, and with a gravity only slightly lower than standard 1 G.
The unnumbered islands varied in size from naked volcanic rocks peeking out of the ocean, offering barely enough space for sea avians to nest, to impressive landmasses as huge as Australia, on Earth. The dominating climate was pleasantly warm, like that of Earth’s Mediterranean areas, and both the oceans and the larger islands had an amazing variety of native plants and animals, none of them sentient.
In other worlds, it could have become a much sought after recreation planet, just like Risa, had it not been so far on the very edge of Federation territory. But the Federation’s loss was the New Colonies’ gain, and for his part, President Darius was supremely content that the Aquarians had managed to claim this world for themselves.
Not only because it had fleeting similarities with their old home. Placed in the Hetari System, they had New Gemini and New Sagittara as neighbours - the former one with strong Federation contacts and a sorted-out Cylon basestar in orbit, the latter one with the strongest military in the entire sector. And while believed too young and too naïve to prevail against such scheming old vulpines as Uri, Lobe or Anton, Darius had one advantage on them: he never underestimated the military.
That would have been really foolish from the only son of Devon, the legendary Commander of the Fourth Fleet. And though he didn’t follow his father’s distinguished career (an unusual one for an Aquarian in any case), he’d been taught loyalty and tactical thinking at Devon’s knees; that, and the necessity to choose one’s allies well. Those teachings had motivated him to accept responsibility when Sire Uri had unexpectedly tossed him into the middle of the power struggle during the elections.
Personally, he’d have preferred a quiet life - becoming a minor diplomat and visiting Federation worlds would have been his highest ambitions. But as the last living scion of a however mythical royal clan, he had responsibilities towards his people. He couldn’t allow Sire Geller, that senile old fool and Anton’s lap daggit to keep representing - or, as was mostly the case, not representing - Aquarian interests any longer.
And then there had been Anton, too. The shrewd old Scorpian had very obviously had the office of the President in eye, back then, when Adama had already been out of his way. Darius had known from his late father how unpredictable and dangerous Anton could become with too much power in his hands - it had always been a most unpleasant trait by Scorpian aristocrats. Darius had been adamant (and several of his fellow Councillors had whole-heartedly agreed) that Anton’s eventual election had to be prevailed.
So he had sought out alliances, shamelessly used the legendary name of his father and his own popularity among the young… and, unexpectedly enough, he had won. Which, according to his secretary, proved that the simple population was a lot wiser than its elated leaders.
Winning the elections had only been the beginning, of course; and a bumpy start it was, as the pilots liked to say. Quite a few of the scheming old - or not so old - fools had been re-elected in the Quorum (which meant that the simple folk wasn’t that wise, after all), and they had been doing their best (or rather worst) to keep changes from happening ever since. At least he could count on Caprica, Gemini and Libra at any time, and Canceria and Virgo could usually be persuaded to support him.
But that was still only half the Quorum, as Piscera and Taura were extremely unpredictable, while Aries, Leonis and Scorpia had built a strong opposition, and Sagittara usually remained neutral. It was imperative that he found strong allies among the Federation worlds, to balance out his precarious position at home.
Fortunately, that was an area where he could keep up his hopes. The fact that Aquarius had offered refuge to several semi-humanoid races, both during the War and their flight, appealed to the Federation greatly. Besides, they could afford it. Due to their world’s peculiar geography, the handful of amphibian Hasari survivors could create their own, undisturbed environment on a number of small islands as well as the reptilian Delphians, whose remote colony they’d evacuated on their way to Earth, and who now lived on one of the major landmasses.
The mixed population and the various cultures living peacefully together on New Aquarius had attracted many Federation anthropologists, and those had called in the help of their respective homeworlds. Denebians, Deltans, Rigelians, humans of different origins had come to help, and Aquarius accepted any help they could get gladly.
The most recent great achievement had been to become the new project of Alpha III, especially as the sophisticated culture of that human colony had many similarities with the Aquarian way of life. But the greatest - and most welcome - surprise was the offer of a formal alliance, coming from Mu Leonis II, or better known by its indigenous name as Ardana.
Oh, certainly, all Federation support was needed and crucial, as Federation technology was generally more advanced than its Colonial counterpart, especially that of the founding members. Yet it was Ardana’s help which had been most sought after, since the very beginning. Ardana not only provided the technology to the rebuilding, they also supplied the workers, in great numbers. Not just engineers and technicians and mechanics like the Andorians or the Tellarites, but also skilled and reliable men who could work under the harshest circumstances and on very little food.
Darius suspected that the Ardanans must have had a very good reason to send their lower class off-planet en masse; that it was probably just a convenient method for them to get rid of some unwanted people without raising the suspicion of Federation observers. But he had chosen not to ask. It hadn’t been the most honourable thing, but the sad truth was, the Colonies needed those workers.
The refugees had done everything in their power to rebuild their worlds, but they were too few, run too ragged during the flight for a work of such magnitude. Not to mention that many of them lacked the necessary skills, too. Quite frankly, Darius was not the only one who considered the Troglyte workers as a blessing. He’d deal with his conscience later, he’d decided early on, and had been surprised to learn that Sire Adama, the man with the strongest principles among them all, grudgingly agreed with him.
The offer of the Ardanan Council of Advisors to marry of to him Siress Droxine, the only daughter of High Advisor Plasus, had come a bit unexpected. He’d been shown records of Ardana, of the floating city of Stratos above the clouds, and also of the siress herself, of course. He’d also realized that the various Federation worlds would most likely seek out their own alliances as the Colonies did. He also understood that such a formal alliance would most likely strengthen the position of Ardana within the Federation as well as that of the ruling class on their own homeworld.
So, it shouldn’t have surprised him too much, after all. It seemed that Ardana needed the Colonies as much as the Colonies needed Ardana. A political marriage would formalize their alliance and ensure former Federation support. Yet he couldn’t agree with the offer at once… not before he got the chance to speak with the bride chosen for him first.
There was nothing wrong with accepting an arranged Sealing of convenience, for the good of his people. But he wouldn’t bind someone to himself in an unbreakable bond based on a lie.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The lady Droxine, daughter and most cherished possession of High Advisor Oiran Plasus, observed herself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror in her quarters aboard the Ardanan courier ship. This was her first chance to put on proper clothes since they’d left Ardana. Her father hadn’t wanted their journey to become known before he could be certain that it would provide the desired results, so they’d travelled in the guise of simple citizens.
They had met Starfleet patrols and other Federation representatives on their way, of course, but it had usually been the captain of the ship who’d dealt with those, and even if someone got a glimpse at her, they wouldn’t recognize her. Although - as one of the highest celebrities of her homeworld, she frequently appeared on TriVid - this time people hadn’t even guessed that she’d left Ardana. Controlling the media came handy sometimes.
Of course, they probably wouldn’t have recognized him face-to-face, either. Which lay all in the clothes and the hairdo.
Droxine was considered a living artwork among her people, and in a way, it as true. Her body had been shaped to perfection by various means of genetic resequencing and constructive surgery and kept that way through rigorous diet and training. Unlike other Federation worlds that rejected, even prohibited genetic engineering, this was very normal for Ardana - even if not spoken of. Female members of the ruling class had to be perfect, no matter what it cost.
And she was perfect, according to Ardanan norm. But that perfection had to be displayed generously, so that people could freely admire the spotless arch of her back, the fullness of her breasts as they lay heavily in the strategically placed folds of silk, the spotless smoothness of her skin. It required an intricate hairdo and large earrings that made her graceful neck look even larger, and dramatic eye make-up to emphasize the brightness of her eyes. No casual onlooker would associate that image of perfection with the woman in simple travelling clothes and her hair in a tight bun.
People were used to look at her body, not at her face, despite the classic, high cheekbones and azure eyes. After all, every female member of the ruling class was blonde and blue-eyed and fair-skinned. They were bred that way, and if nature failed to make them perfect, the genetic engineers did.
She sighed, pulling a bit on the heavy, stiff tail of her floor-long dress, so that it would glide behind her smoothly. Getting caught in something would have... unfortunate consequences, as the weight of the tail was what held the front of the dress in place. Not that it would have bother her to show off her beauty even more, but such exhibitionist tendencies wasn’t accepted in her circles, and she had a reputation to protect. Besides, a perfect Ardanan woman wasn’t allowed to be clumsy.
After a moment of consideration, she sprayed her bare shoulders and the valley between her breasts with the special perfume that increased the effects of her pheromones. It was a dirty trick, but she couldn’t afford to fail. The marriage of convenience wasn’t a done deal yet. President Darius had tentatively signalled his interest but wanted to meet her first. She had to snare him at once. Ardana needed this alliance badly. Ever since Captain Kirk had overthrown the natural order of things on their planet, the position of her father was a very insecure one.
Oiran Plasus wasn’t called king or president or any other of those meaningless titles, but he was the de facto ruler of Ardana. Or, at the very least, he had been, until Kirk’s interference, which had left him in the not enviable position of picking up the pieces left after the visit of the Enterprise and trying to establish some semblance of order again. It wasn’t an easy task to perform, and its success was still far from certain.
Droxine Plasus was a princess in everything but the official title. She had always known that one day she’d have to marry a promising ally in order to secure her father’s rule. She had no problems with that. She’d been born and bred and thoroughly trained for that very rule, and she knew she’d be able to play her part perfectly, no matter whom her father - or the Council of Advisors - selected for her.
In fact, the current choice was better than she could have hoped. At least President Darius was young and, assuming the holopics had not been manipulated, very pretty, with that long, wavy dark hair, those large, dark eyes and that charming smile. She’d ordered a collection of his poems previous their journey and found that - as far as she could judge by the translation - he was a talented poet. She’d have to learn Aquarian to make a better judgement, of course, but it seemed that they might make a good match.
Besides, this marriage would give her the chance to be far, far from home when the weakened structure of power came crashing down onto the heads of her father and his fellow Advisors. Which, with just a bit of bad luck, could happen any time now. She didn’t want to witness that - and to be buried under the wreckage. So no, she couldn’t afford to miss this chance.
She added a bit more perfume for good measure, threw her head back in the well-trained, superior manner of her class, and rushed out of her quarters, heading towards the transporter room.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
No matter how many times he’d seen Federation transporters at work - or experienced their smooth working on his own body, for that matter - the effect never failed to amaze President Darius. The miraculous was as the whirling sparkles of golden light solidified into a living, breathing person (or even into a solid object) was so far beyond what had been considered science back in the Old Colonies that it seemed almost… magical.
And, he admitted as a wry afterthought, it was a grand entrée for any woman who wanted to impress her audience. Materializing from a column of golden light - what a way to arrive! He had to admit - aside from the fact that the dramatic entrée appealed to the artist in him very much - that his bride-to-be was doing an excellent job at the impressing part.
And she was exquisite, too, even more so than on the pictures and holovids. Her slim, smooth torso reminded of that of a very young boy, with slightly board shoulders but fragile arms, a wasp’s tail that he could have encircled with his hands, a flat belly that showed the results of regular yet careful workout to keep the feminine shape, lean hips and a long graceful neck.
She was practically naked to the waist, save from a broad strip of folded silk criss-crossing her firm breasts and holding a long, triangular tail tat dragged beyond her on the floor. The long shirt of the extravagant dress left her navel free and was open on one side to the hip, revealing a long, perfectly shaped leg at each step she made. Her honey-blonde hair was piled up in complicated twists, curls and knots, leaving only one long, wavy tress hanging between her shoulder blades. Large, intricate earrings dangled from her ears, almost touching her bare shoulders and emphasizing the perfect arch of her neck.
Her face was smooth and doll-like, with prominent cheekbones, rose petal lips and wide eyes of an intense blue, her eyelids made up in blue and silver, contrasting artfully the long, ink-black eyelashes. She looked all helpless and child-like, perhaps even a little scared. But when Darius met those seemingly innocent eyes for a moment, he knew at once that all the naïveté displayed in such a perfect package was nothing but show. This young woman was smart, calculating and out to conquer… with excellent results, if the slack-mouthed admiration displayed on the faces most men around was any indication.
Athena, who was watching the scene from the side, couldn’t help but giggle in amusement, seeing the powerful members of the Quorum, richly-clad and oh-so-self-secure most of the time, opening and closing their respective mouths repeatedly, without getting out a single word.
“That’s a first,” she commented with a little evil satisfaction; at any other time, some councillors would drive anyone mad with their smooth speeches that always covered their true intentions under multiple levels of lies and half-truths. “I haven’t seen Sire Uri so speechless since he met his first Deltan.”
“It’s the same effect, basically,” a deep, sensuous voice, that was definitely not her brother’s, replied, and she felt the now familiar hot shiver running through her entire body - a feeling that always indicated the presence of a Deltan. She turned around and recognized Iloran, the Federation Council member of 114-Delta V.
“Ambassador,” she smiled, basking in his very enjoyable presence as she would in a warm, scented bath. “I didn’t know you were in our sector again.”
“I’m negotiating further support for New Gemini,” the handsome, bald man kissed her hand, courteously keeping his own pheromones under tight control to spare her the embarrassment. “Sire Ixion -” that was the Gemini councillor - “thought that I might enjoy this reception, so I let him talk me into accompanying him.”
“And? Are you enjoying yourself?” Athena inquired.
Dealing with a Deltan of the opposite gender was always a little bit intoxicating, but in a completely harmless way. Deltans were, as a rule, brutally honest. Being telepathic, all of them, they found it more or less obligatory to speak their minds clearly, to even out the disadvantage of non-telepaths that way. As one who spent a lot of her time among double-talking diplomats, Athena found this custom of theirs very refreshing.
“Oh, extremely,” Iloran assured her. “I’ve heard that Ardanan females have been selectively bred for centuries to regain conscious control over their pheromones, but I’ve never seen them actually do so - until now.”
Athena gave the exquisite blonde a hard look.
“So that’s what she’s doing?” she asked. “Trying to snare the President?”
“I believe,” Iloran replied thoughtfully, “that she’s already beyond the trying phase. Very… informative, indeed. I didn’t expect her to be this good at it.”
“But you’re better, aren’t you?” Athena asked. “You could throw her off-kilt in a micron, right?”
“Of course,” the Deltan laughed. “In fact, I need to hold back considerately, in order not to ruin her peak performance. It wouldn’t be fair; you see she’s doing her best.”
“Her best might not be enough,” Athena commented, watching President Darius, tall, elegant and extravagant as always, attending to his guest of honour. He was slightly confused, for some reason, but by far not the same slack-mouthed fool as many of his fellow councillors.
“He seems remarkably resistant,” Iloran agreed in surprise. “That’s… unexpected. Her pheromones are strong enough to wake the dead.”
“Just not the right sort of pheromones, they aren’t,” Athena grinned. “President Darius is flit - and fairly open about it.”
The eggshell-smooth brow of Iloran furled in an uncertain frown - then he understood the hint and laughed.
“Oh. That explains his unusually strong reaction to me,” he said. “I’ll have to be careful around him, then. But since this is an arranged marriage for mutual political benefits, he’ll need wed her anyway, I guess. I wonder why did he want to see her in the first place. She could have arrived with the signed marriage contracts already.”
“Perhaps he wanted to see the merchandise before buying it,” Athena said, a bit maliciously. Iloran gave her a searching look but decided against asking.
“He could have done worse,” he said. “Ardanan noblewomen play their roles perfectly. She’ll always behave as it’s expected from a First Lady. She’ll be decorative, friendly, well-informed and intelligent, when she has to entertain guests. She’ll turn a blind eye on his… sidesteps. And she’ll produce him heirs, to keep the royal bloodline of Aquarius alive. Not to mention the fact that a proper Sealing - to a woman - will take the wind out of the sails of the dogmatic Kobolian opposition. It’s the perfect match… in political sense.”
“Perhaps,” Athena said reluctantly. “But he’ll never be free of her again. Or she of him. A Sealing cannot be undone. Ever. ‘Til death do us part’ - so is it sworn in the ritual.”
“Why would either of them want it undone?” Iloran asked. “All Ardanan noblewomen ever wish is a proper marriage that elevates their status. Personal interests play no role whatsoever in their choices. And she’ll be the perfect screen for him, behind which he can pursue his… other interests.”
“It’s still not right,” Athena said stubbornly.
The Deltan shook his bald head. “It’s not for us to be the judge of that, Siress Athena. Let them negotiate the terms of their alliance in private.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Droxine made it through the extremely long reception almost in autopilot. The proper greetings and smiles were so indoctrinated in her very nature that she didn’t need to pay much attention to executing them. Instead, she watched the people closely - and with suspicion - trying to find out who could be her main concurrent in the fight for President Darius’ attention.
The young man’s almost complete lack of reaction to her pheromones had disturbed her greatly. She knew he was physically hale - she had received the necessary medical records, and besides, there had been a side note of him wanting heirs. Most other males present (with the exception of the very old) had been completely overwhelmed - drooling idiots would have been the correct phrase, had she, well-bred Ardanan aristocrat as she was, not refrained from using such crude expressions. So what was wrong with her pre-selected husband?
Was he involved with someone already? Deeply enough to withstand any other temptation on a biochemical level? No, she doubted it. Human males were not made that way, and while President Darius originated from a different galaxy, genetically he was one hundred per cent human - and very male, according to his medical file. Despite his vaguely androgynous looks, his testosterone levels were well above average. How could he possibly have withstood her, then?
And yet he most definitely had. She couldn’t notice any of the usual reactions - aside from some mild confusion and a slight blush, which was more due to the situation than to her person.
She continued her way through the spacious ballroom that hosted the reception, exchanging polite words and reserved smiles, as it was expected from her, but her inner turmoil was increasing. She was not allowed to fail. That would mean the end of her father’s rule back home and exile for her on some backward Federation planet. And if she could never return to Stratos, not even for short visits, what was life truly worth? Living in the dirt, on the planet surface, was bad enough - well, at least New Aquarius was a pretty planet. If she had to give up life in the clouds, at least she wanted a pleasant place in exchange.
“Siress Droxine,” a low, polite voice murmured in her right.
Turning, she saw the slender young man in the customary white of Aquarian employees she’d noticed earlier in Darius’ company. A handsome man of perhaps thirty, dark-haired and dark-eyed, with a pale skin and smooth, even features.
“Yes,” she said with patrician indifference. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m Leandros, President Darius’ personal aide,” he replied. “The President would like to have a word with you, Siress… in private.”
“That would be hardly appropriate,” considering the circumstances,” she said dismissively.
The aide smiled. He had an infectious smile, but Droxine had the nagging suspicion that he was hiding something… a lot of things, actually. Well, as the confidant of President Darius, he probably was.
“There’s no need for concern,” he said. “President Darius is waiting for you on the gallery,” he pointed upwards discretely. “You’ll be in full sight all the time. We don’t want any… misunderstandings, either.”
Droxine looked up. She could indeed see her husband-to-be standing among the carved pillars of the small balcony. With his long, dark hair falling in waves to the small of his back, he offered a truly picturesque view was even more emphasized by his light, aqua robe, embroidered with silver and small pearls. He was doubtlessly very handsome - and very visible up there.
“All right,” Droxine said. “Show me the way, please. Perhaps it will be useful for us to speak openly with each other.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The official announcement about President Darius’ Sealing with the Lady Droxine Plasus of Ardana was made on the same evening. Elegantly phrased communiqués were sent to all major Federation worlds, including the invitation to witness the ceremony - the very first Kobolian Sealing between a Colonial nobleman of royal blood and a Federation aristocrat. That was an event of great importance for both sides.
The press went completely nuts, of course. Whole ships filled with newspeople and TriVid reporters and camera teams made their way to New Aquarius at best speed, to make reports about the Wedding of the Century™. High-ranking Federation representatives boarded their private yachts and hurried over to the Kobol sector to see the event - and to be seen participating. Being in the public eye could never hurt, after all; being important wasn’t enough - one also needed to appear important. But the event also put the New Colonies in the news again, which was badly needed, in order to secure themselves further Federation support.
“I’m beginning to realize that President Darius may be a lot shrewder than I’d have given him credit for,” Apollo remarked on the day of the wedding. He and Athena were standing together in the room where the ceremony was supposed to take place, while Adama was still with the bridespeople in the back chamber.
“Perhaps he is,” Athena replied. “I still can’t believe that Father was willing to take part in this scheme. It’s not like him. He usually takes matters of faith more seriously.”
“What did you expect him to do?” Apollo asked seriously. “To refuse the President’s request? He’s the closest thing we have to a Kobolian priest - had he refused his blessing, it would have dire consequences. Consequences the Quorum can’t afford right now. The balance of power is precarious enough as it is - undermining the President’s authority would be fatal. You know that better than I. Why are you against this Sealing so much?”
“Because it’s fake,” Athena said bitterly. “People who Seal for eternity are supposed to do so out of love, not for political reasons. That’s what civilian marriages are for.”
“Oh, come on!” Apollo laughed. “You were every bit this… unpleasant when I Sealed with Serina three yahrens ago. Or do you doubt that we loved each other?”
“I don’t doubt for a micron that you loved her very much,” Athena replied. Apollo gave her a sharp look.
“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked with a frown.
Athena shook her head. “When I know more, I’ll tell you,” she said. “So far, all I have are vague suspicions.”
“I don’t understand you,” Apollo said, disappointed. “I thought you and Serina were friends.”
“We were on friendly terms,” Athena corrected, “for your sake. She never had any friends. Only admirers - or adversaries. Those were the only terms she was capable of thinking.”
Apollo wanted to make a sharp riposte, but the first tones of the most popular Aquarian wedding anthem interrupted their discussion. It was a slow, melodious piece that had survived the destruction due to the fact that the Rising Star had once been used as a place for spectacular marriages performed in space. Everyone felt silent, waiting for the beginning of the Sealing Ceremony.
New Aquarius being a multi-cultural world, the inhabitants belonged to a wide variety of religious communities. That meant they would have had to build just as many different temples - which they couldn’t afford. Habitats and industrial buildings were the priority. Thus they had chosen to build one large hall that was decorated according to the customs of the community that was using it at any given time.
At the moment, it represented an ancient Kobolian temple. The walls were hung with dark velvet drapes, adorned with golden symbols in Old Kobolian: matching quotes from the Script for a Sealing. The hall was shaped like a small amphitheatre, just in rectangular form, with three wide rows of stars leading down to the arena-like middle section. On the fourth side, within a sea of burning candles, a simple stone altar stood, and on the altar, in an open velvet box, lay the silver broche with the white gem - the symbol of the Lords of Kobol and Adama’s power.
Apollo felt his chest tighten seeing this scenario. It was eerily similar to the surroundings in which is own Sealing took place, aboard the Galactica. Even the wedding dress of the Lady Droxine looked like an exact copy of Serina’s: all the white tull and taffeta, shoulder-free, with a long, transparent veil attached to her wreath of Aquarian gamosepalous nightblooms - one of the very few flowers whose seeds could be saved from the old worlds. Another rare specimen from their lost home, pale lavender Scorpian orchids, decorated the simple altar.
“She’s truly beautiful,” Apollo said, eyeing the bride. “They make a very pretty couple.”
That they were indeed. President Darius, too, cut a handsome figure in the simple white robes of a Colonial councillor, wearing only a long, sleeveless surcoat of golden mesh over them.
The doors of the hall opened, and Adama, in his midnight-blue-and-silver dress uniform, with cape and collar and all, walked in. The music ended, and the cavernous room fell silent. Adama announced the names of the parties that were about to be Sealed, as custom demanded, then he looked at High Advisor Plasus, who stood in the circle of a few selected Ardanan nobles, all in their finest festive robes, proud and determined.
“Will the protector of Droxine consent to relinquishing his responsibility to Darius, the man she’s chosen to be Sealed to?” he asked.
Plasus, his bearded face shining with success and triumph, nodded.
“Yes,” he declared in a strong voice.
Someone offered the open box to Adama. He took out the sacred medallion and held it up for all to see.
“The simple words I’m about to speak are the most powerful in the universe,” he declared. “They seal a union between this man and this woman, which is not only for now but for all eternity.”
He took the long chain of the medallion in hand and - according to ancient ritual - wrapped it loosely around the clasped hands of the bridespeople.
“Darius… Droxine,” he continued. “Under the eyes of God, and bound by the symbol of the faith of the Lords of Kobol, I declare you Sealed.”
Darius turned to his newly wed wife and kissed her on the lips in a gentle but detached manner. The low murmur of the guests was broken by the beginning of the recessional music and the good wishes of friends and allies. Unlike Droxine, the President had no living family left.
“Well,” Athena said, after having paid her respects to the new couple, “now they have each other, and no power of the universe can change that. Let’s hope they are able to live with that lie forever.”
“Their problem, not ours,” Apollo reminded her. “They went into this with their eyes wide open. And we’ve both wasted enough time here when we’re needed in other places.”
“Are you returning to the Galactica?” Athena asked. Apollo nodded.
“It’s about time,” he said, “I’ve been away for too long. Care to come with me for a visit? Some of the old crew are still aboard, and I’m sure they’d be happy to see you again.”
“And I’d be happy to meet them,” Athena sighed. “But I can’t, not now. I’ve something more… urgent to do, and that soon.”
“Another mission in Federation territory?” Apollo teased. Athena shook her head.
“No,” she said seriously, “This time, it’s uncomfortably close to home.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
End notes:
Flit is a fanon expression for gay people, created by fellow Galactica writer Karen Davis.
The words of the Sealing Ceremony are directly taken from the episode “The Lost Planet of Gods”.
For visuals: President Darius, as played by Damien Sargue
Deltan Ambassador Iloran as played by Yul Brynner (in his Ramses make-up)
Chapter 12 - Wandering in Mist