A picture's worth a thousand words
The irony of the whole situation was perfect really. Story of his life, irony. He’d picked the guy to defend Adama on charges of treason, because the guy seemed to have a thing for traitors. Now...well.
“It’s certainly not because I like you, Mr. Gaeta, let’s be clear about that.”
Felix blew out a puff of smoke. “They’re compensating you well for this, I assume.”
“They’re not paying me a damn thing.”
Felix was inwardly dismissed. He’d sunk even beneath Baltar on the Galactican food chain. The collective memory of the fleet seemed to get shorter by the day. “Then why bother?”
“Suffice to say Mr. Gaeta, I like a challenge.”
“I hope you also like losing.”
“I never lose Mr. Gaeta. I’d say your chances are even better than dear Baltar’s this go round. Admiral Adama’s not on the panel.”
Too bad, thought Felix, he’d almost prefer it. It might actually be better than this world of irony he lived in.
“Let’s go, triator.” The Marines were here to escort him to trial. Mr. Lampkin hadn’t even been back to see him. Felix had no idea how the guy expected to win.
Romo was standing outside the portal door. They never let in civilians unless they had to, there in the cell where they kept cylons. Or used to anyway. Again, the irony. Felix greeted him with a scowl.
“You haven’t been back to see me. How do you expect to win if you never talk to me?”
Romo simply stood there as the Marines handcuffed Felix. “I don’t need to talk to you Mr. Gaeta.” The two of them, and the escorts, began moving down the hall. “You see, I have this habit of permanently borrowing things from people. Little exclusive insights, if you will.”
“You took my stuff?!” Felix exclaimed. It probably wouldn’t have bothered him so much a few months, even weeks, ago, but the world afforded him little dignity these days, that even a missing item ripped away at his soul. “It’s just stuff Mr. Lampkin, and you shouldn’t be snooping around in it!”
“Stuff is never just stuff, Mr. Gaeta.”
Felix huffed. No one was going to give him any concessions. But he was a bit curious as to what sort of ‘exclusive insight’ he claimed to get. “What was it you took?”
Mr. Lampkin didn’t say anything, he simply extended his hand. In it were some very personal items he recognized quite well.
Felix stopped in his tracks. The marines all pulled their guns on him, but he didn’t really notice. He was too focused on the items in his hands. There was a photo of him and Dee with their arms around each other, a photo of his troop of Hephaestus Scouts at camp, a photo of some friends hoisting pints of ambrosia at the bar on New Caprica, and a photo of his family at an old holiday gathering.
“They’re all dead, aren’t they?”
“What?” Felix blurted. It stunned him that Romo has spoken to him.
“The people in the photos. They’re all dead, aren’t they?”
“Yeah. Yeah, they are,” he replied meekly.
“I know what that’s like Mr. Gaeta. To lose everyone you’ve ever loved and not have anyone care. I lost my wife, my children, even my cat. My damn cat! Humanity’s forgotten how to care about the dead. But I haven’t. You haven’t. Those photos tell me everything I need to know to win your case.” He paused. “They tell me everything I need to know about you.”
The sunglasses hid his eyes, but Felix didn’t need to see them to know what they said. Finally, someone knew what the mutiny was really all about. It didn’t matter whether he won or lost this trial. Someone finally understood.
Not guilty. He could hardly believe it. The people were just starting to filter out of the makeshift courtroom, yet Felix could barely remember the events of the trial, what Mr. Lampkin had said and done to make them see Felix’s motivations, to empathize with him. Especially since Tom Zarek had been found guilty and was slated to be executed later that day. But he’d done it. Romo had spared his life.
“C’mon kid. Let’s get out of here.” Felix turned to look at Romo. The shades were off and the look in his eyes wasn’t one of a man who’d conquered a great challenge. It wasn’t one of defeat either. He wasn’t sure what it was.
“Go where?” Felix asked. He doubted they’d take him aboard Galactica.
“With me. We’ll start something new, together. We can’t forget the past Felix, but we can’t live in it either.”
Felix smiled. That had been the problem the whole time, hadn’t it? Galactica spent all it’s time trying to forget the past, and guys like Tom Zarek spent all theirs trying to go back to it. Felix had finally found someone else who insisted on the inbetween.
And for the first time in a very long time, he felt a glimmer of something. Hope.