Moving On - Chapter 7
by P>Katrina
Rating PG.
Disclaimer: This story is for fan enjoyment. This story is in no way trying to infringe on the rights of Universal Studios or any "Others". No profits are being made of any kind.
Post Hand of God
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"Greetings and welcome to my humble gardens. Captain Apollo, I see you are looking quite ... alive. And Sheba, my princess, we meet again. I did tell you there would come another time and another place when we would meet again. Don't you remember?" Count Iblis scolded, his voice a rich baritone, which she remembered all too well.
He stood before Apollo and Sheba, his long, white robes flowing around his physical form, stirred by the winds that continued to blow. A malevolent smile graced his distinguished features as he waited for an answer.
"I remember. I also remember the Ship of Lights punished you and sent you away," Sheba tried to keep her voice steady, but the fear gripping her soul, caused it to sound weak even to her own ears.
Apollo quickly stepped in front of Sheba, pushing her behind him; shielding her from Iblis's evil stare. He pointed his laser squarely at Iblis. "Leave her alone, Iblis! She is of no concern to you. What is it that you really want? Are you responsible for us being here?" Apollo spat the words out with all the anger and hatred he possessed for the evil creature which stood in front of him.
"Ah, but you are wrong Apollo. She is of great concern to me because she belongs with me, not you. You stole her away from me and now you both must pay. All of you must pay for your sins against me," Iblis glared at Apollo before shifting his penetrating eyes toward Sheba's frightened brown ones.
"She only turned to you because I couldn't admit my real feelings to her. You took advantage of her when she was vulnerable," Apollo replied, tightening his grip on the handle of his laser.
"That weapon can't hurt me, Apollo. You might as well put it away before you hurt yourself . . . or someone close to you." Iblis laughed as Apollo's face paled, the laser slowly dropping to his side.
Turning to his left, Count Iblis watched as Starbuck, with his laser still in hand, stood in front of Athena, trying to shield her as best as he could.
"And Lieutenant Starbuck, trusty sidekick of the Captain here, I trust you remember what happened the last time you fired that weapon at me." Iblis watched with a twisted smile on his features, as Starbuck slowly replaced his laser, remembering the last time he had fired it at Iblis.
He - or it - had turned into a hideous creature as the energy passed harmlessly through his physical form. It was a sight that Starbuck would remember all the days of his life.
"Whatever it is you want, I'm sure it's as evil and demented as you are," Starbuck glared at Iblis, taking satisfaction in watching the smile fall from his face.
"Insolence doesn't become you, Lieutenant!" Iblis swung his angry gaze away from Starbuck, pausing momentarily to study Athena's defiant face. Smiling, he winked at her before walking over towards Boomer, taking in the guarded expression on his face.
Boomer watched Count Iblis closely as he walked over to stand in front of him. He remembered the conversation he'd had with Starbuck about what had happened on the mysterious red planet. The planet where Starbuck and Sheba thought Apollo had died at Iblis's hand. He remembered also the strange sensation that had come over him when Iblis asked if he could play triad against Starbuck and Apollo, through him. He could barely remember the game; it was so hazy.
"Yes Boomer, I quite enjoyed playing triad through you that evening. Was it not exhilarating to finally defeat Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck?" The courtyard filled with laughter as Count Iblis enjoyed watching the guilty expression that flashed across Boomer's face, along with the mirror expressions of disbelief on the faces of the others, especially Apollo and Starbuck's.
"Iblis, whatever it is you want, get it over with!" Apollo yelled, his patience totally gone. The sick feeling in the pit of his stomach was churning again, warning him that whatever evil Iblis had planned, all their lives were in danger.
"In due time, Captain." Iblis walked back over to stand in front of Apollo again. "Are you really so eager to take my little test?"
"Test? What test? What are you talking about?" Apollo asked, with a sinking feeling in his heart and soul. He felt Sheba tremble against him as Iblis's smile became more malicious, more demented. He saw a sickening expression spread across Starbuck's face as Iblis started to explain.
"Why, the test that is going to deliver each of your souls to me before the sun sets," Iblis broke out into demented, haunting laughter as he waved his left arm and everything went black for the six warriors.
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The first thing Boomer became conscious of was a splitting headache. The next was that he was lying on the soft green grass in the temple's courtyard, near the reflecting pool, the mid-morning sun beating down on his face. And he was alone.
Getting to his feet carefully, he noticed that his laser pistol was back in his holster. Running his hand along the smooth barrel, he searched the courtyard with troubled dark eyes, trying to figure out what exactly was going on. Where were the others? Where did Count Iblis go and what test was he talking about?
"Hey, I can see my reflection in the pool. Come over here and let's see yours!"
Startled, Boomer quickly turned around, laser pistol in hand, to see the same small young boy that he had seen for a split micron when he had first looked into the reflecting pool. Only this time, the boy stood beside the pool, waiting for an answer.
Swallowing the lump that was stuck in his throat, Boomer closed his eyes for a moment, positive that he was hallucinating. There was no way that he was seeing this young boy in front of him. He looked just like his - No! It was a trick! It just wasn't possible! When he opened his eyes again, he saw the boy patiently waiting for him, a questioning look on his young face. Not sure what was going on, Boomer cautiously made his way over to the boy, returning the laser pistol to its holster.
"What's going on here? Who are you? What's your name?"
Just smiling and turning back to the pool, the boy reached out a dark-skinned hand to gently touch the cool water, sending ripples across the surface. "See, I can even make all kinds of ripples in the water, depending on which way I move my hand."
More than slightly confused, Boomer stopped beside the small boy and watched the ripples as they fanned out across the water, before coming to a halt against the sides of the pool. "Yes, the ripples are moving out in all directions across the surface of the pool." Pausing a micron to study the boy, Boomer continued, "What's your name? Where did you come from?"
Glancing around at Boomer, the boy looked puzzled. "You know who I am, Uncle Boomer. Come on, I don't want to play that game now. Let's look at your reflection in the pool." As soon as he finished, the boy leaned back over the edge of the reflecting pool, ignoring the shocked, pained look on Boomer's face.
Taking a deep breath as he ran a hand around the back of his neck, Boomer cautiously demanded, "I know who you look like, but you are not my nephew, Benji. He died almost two yahrens ago, in the destruction of our worlds. Who are you? What kind of game are you playing? Did Iblis put you up to this? Is he responsible?"
Confusion spread across the boy's dark eyes, as he straightened up from the pool. "Uncle Boomer, why are you saying I'm not Benji? I am. I'm your nephew. I'm not playing a game with you. I just want you to look at your reflection in the pool here because it's so beautiful." Trying to hide the hurt, the boy returned to staring into the water of the pool.
Exasperated, Boomer let out a deep sigh, realizing he wasn't going to get anywhere with the boy - the boy, who looked just like his nephew, his Benji. Shutting out the pain he was feeling deep in his heart, Boomer looked at the boy as he went back to playing in the reflecting pool's water. What was going on here? Who was this boy that looked so much like his nephew?
Moving closer to the boy, Boomer decided to play along with him. Maybe that way, he could figure out what was going on. The boy wanted him to look into the reflecting pool. Okay, he would. Maybe then the boy will tell him what he wanted to know.
Boomer moved his dark eyes from the boy to the water in the pool. At first, all he saw was his reflection. Then a strange sensation overcame him . . . dizziness, spinning round and round, hearing a far off child's chant as it sang: "Ring around the roses, à we all fall down."
Instantly, he began seeing flashes from some of the most difficult times in his life. Images, thoughts and feelings he had tried to bury deep within, along with a great deal of sorrow and guilt.
When he was eight yahrens old, his friend Anton was hurt falling out of a tree fort. He had tried to help him, but there was nothing he could do. Anton's mother blamed him for encouraging her son to climb the tree. It didn't matter that Anton had climbed any number of trees before or that it wasn't Boomer's idea. Her son had been hurt and she desperately wanted to blame anyone other than Anton. His parents tried to convince him that it wasn't his fault. That it was an accident and no one was to blame. Boomer tried to forget the accusing expression on her face, but he still felt guilty for being there when Anton fell, for not preventing his fall in the first place.
Time skipped forward to the eve of the destruction of the colonies. To that last day he spent with his family on the Caprican seashore. They were celebrating the accord that was to be signed the following day. They were celebrating the hope of peace. He remembered his feelings of helplessness the next day as they tried to combat wave after wave of Cylon fighter attacks that occurred just before the so-called peace accord signing. He remembered his realization that the dream of peace was gone, as were their home worlds.
When the first wave of the attack ended, Boomer had gone down to what was left of Caprica, looking for any member of his family, but he had found none. There was nothing left of any of their homes, only piles of rubble. He had even searched the computer listing of survivors, hoping he had missed someone, but no members of his family were listed. He had to accept the fact that he was alone. He had to accept the guilt that he felt for not protecting them, not saving them from the Cylons. He was a Colonial Warrior, highly trained, highly skilled. He had taken an oath to protect the Colonies, to protect the ones he loved, with his very life. And he had failed.
"The guilt is yours, Boomer. You failed to protect your family, to protect young Benji here. He turned to me because you failed to save him," a voice as soft and soothing as a gentle breeze echoed through Boomer's anguished mind.
Despair filled Boomer's soul, eating away at his strong faith in the Lord, as the images and feelings continued to bombard him, overwhelming his ability to deal with his emotions.
His thoughts were directed to a sectar after the destruction, to his decision to skip decontamination, which ultimately lead to the death of Serina. Jolly and he were so eager to get to Apollo's bachelor party, that they decided to skip it. That decision nearly cost him his life, along with the majority of the viper pilots. It did cost Serina hers on the sands of Kobol.
Why didn't he follow standard procedure? It only took fifteen centons. What was fifteen centons compared to the safety of the fleet? Nothing that's what it was - nothing. If he hadn't been so stupid, so reckless, Boxey would still have his mother.
Somehow, he had learned to live with the guilt, but every once in a while when he looked at Boxey, he relived the moment he learned about Serina's death. No one blamed him, not even Apollo or Boxey. But he knew better. He had started the chain of events which lead to her death.
"Yes Boomer, it is your fault that Boxey no longer has a mother. Listen to me and I will take away your pain." The voice returned again, just as soft and soothing as before.
Time leaped forward as the images continued to weave their way around Boomer's heart, mind and soul, causing him great emotional pain and grief. Some of them from his memories, but others from sources unknown. He relived Ortega's murder and how Apollo and he discovered the true murderer's identity. How Ortega was blackmailing Pallen because he knew that Pallen was really Charybdis, the one who helped Baltar by sabotaging Caprica's defenses the night the Cylons attacked. He could hear Chella describing how he paid Ortega to let him on board the Rising Star, how a child was left behind in his place. But why was he seeing images of this event? Why was he hearing Chella describing how he came on board the Rising Star over and over again?
"Haven't you figured it out yet, Boomer?" Count Iblis laughed softly.
"Benji was the child left behind in Chella's place. He was left to die because you didn't find him in time. Benji was left to die because you failed again," Iblis's voice grew in intensity as the realization of what had happened sunk into Boomer's consciousness. Feeling the dizziness cease and the waters of the reflecting pool come into focus once again, Boomer closed his eyes trying to shut out the images and thoughts replaying over and over in his mind's eye. Bowing his head, he prayed for strength.
"Uncle Boomer, are you all right?" Benji asked with concern as he gently touched Boomer's shaking hand. Raising his head, Boomer could only stare at the boy, agony clearly written on his dark face.
Count Iblis sat watching the pair from the stone bench, a satisfied smile gracing his distinguished features. Rising after a moment and extending his left hand toward Boomer, he proceeded with his plan. "Benji is under my control now, under my protection. I can help you. I can help ease your feelings of guilt and remorse. I can help you right a wrong. I will release Benji from my care, free him if you will. All you have to do is take my hand . . . "
End Chapter 7