BSG FIC: Youth's Final Luxury (Part 1/6)
Sep. 27th, 2008 02:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lls_mutantTitle: Youth's Final Luxury (Part 1/6)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lls_mutant
Rating: PG-13-ish
Characters: Felix Gaeta and Tom Zarek
Pairings: Gaeta/Skulls, eventual Gaeta/Baltar, eventual unrequited Zarek/Roslin
Summary: New Caprica was meant to be a new beginning. At least, that's how Felix Gaeta and Tom Zarek both saw it.
Spoilers: Mostly set on New Caprica, but through 4.10 just to be safe.
Author's Note: Thanks tofalafel_musings for the excellent beta, and ebuchala for very helpful discussion.
"Vice President Zarek, this is Lieutenant Felix Gaeta."
"I've heard the name," Tom said, extending his hand to the stiffly formal young man who stood next to Baltar. Gaeta's eyes flashed briefly to Baltar before he accepted the handshake, but his hand was firm around Tom's.
"Nice to meet you, sir," he answered.
"Lieutenant Gaeta will be serving as my Chief of Staff," Baltar explained, "once his discharge from the military is complete."
"I see," Tom said neutrally. "When should that be?"
"I'm not sure, sir, but it shouldn't take long." There was an air of discomfort about Gaeta, his eyes slipping away from Tom's for a moment as he clasped his hands behind his back. Tom raised his eyes at Baltar, who shook his head just slightly. So. There was a story here.
"Well, I look forward to working with you," Tom said easily.
"As do I, sir."
Three sirs in as many sentences. Tom couldn't wait to hear Baltar's explanation for this one.
***
"Well?" he asked, when he and Gaius were alone.
"He's very efficient," Gaius explained, settling down at his desk. "Very bright young lad."
"Military through-and-through. Adama hasn't exactly been your biggest supporter."
"Yes, well. Adama may not have been. But it turns out that you were right, Tom, about the election being fixed." Gaius leaned back in his chair, picking up a pen and turning it over in his hands. "I still cannot believe that Roslin herself had anything to do with it-" Tom allowed himself a snort of disbelief at that, but Gaius ignored him- "but it was, indeed, fixed."
Realization dawned. "Gaeta blew the whistle on it."
"Yes."
"Loyalty to you?"
Gaius quirked an eyebrow. "Do you doubt it?"
"Not really," Tom replied lightly, although he'd want a verification on that hypothesis. "I assume Adama isn't too happy about it."
"Yes, well, there are reasons it shouldn't take long for him to join the staff." Gaius leaned forward and poured them both a glass of whiskey. He leaned back and examined the color of the liquor, turning the glass so it caught the light. "Although I have to confess I take a certain delight in anything that annoys Adama right now."
Tom grinned. "I'll drink to that."
***
Felix closed the box and marked it firmly with his name. Dee, sitting on the table, watched him with sad eyes.
"Would you stop that?" he demanded, swatting at her playfully. "I'm going down to the planet. Stop acting like I'm going into exile."
"I'm still surprised," Dee said.
"Why? Dee, the war is over," Felix said. "The Cylons aren't going to find us here. It's done. There's nothing left in the Fleet any more." He smirked. "At least, not for me."
Dee didn't even look embarrassed at what he was implying. Her mind seemed much further away. "You're really going to work for Gaius Baltar."
"He's the President, Dee. That's who the Chief of Staff usually works for." He sighed. "Come on. In a few years the Galactica will be decommissioned, and you and Lee will be down on New Caprica raising a hoard of fat babies and I'll drop in, spoil them rotten, and sneak them lots of sugar before I leave for the night."
"Right," Dee laughed, but there was a wistful look in her eyes. "Look, Felix, I understand you wanting to go down to the planet. I do. But I just can't shake the feeling that Baltar's going to make a mess of it."
"President Baltar is a brilliant man," Felix replied stiffly. "He-"
"Please do not start on the credentials of Gaius Baltar again," Dee groaned. "He might be brilliant, but he has no concept of-"
"Stop. Just stop." Felix snapped, and they stared at each other for a long, tense moment. "My transport leaves in twenty minutes," he said finally, his words cutting through the silence. "Let's not go through this again."
For a moment, Dee looked mutinous, but then she nodded. "You're right," she said, pushing off the table. "You're right," she repeated, half-throwing her hands up. "This isn't the way to say goodbye. Who knows when we'll see each other again."
Felix sighed heavily. "In a few days, when you come down to New Caprica on a Raptor, Dee. I keep telling you, the war is over. We're safe. We're done." He picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder, pulling his shirt down as it rode up. "Everything is going to be fine."
***
Felix was one of the first to leave the Galactica, but there was no real ceremony to it. No applause and no jeers, just a few quick good-byes from people who were staying, like Helo and Skulls and Hoshi. And when he climbed on the Raptor to go down to the planet's surface, he felt like the weight of a past life was being left in orbit, and he was staring into a vast unknown, filled with promise.
When he stepped of the Raptor, Gaius Baltar and Tom Zarek were waiting for him with a bottle of champagne, ready to begin the world.
***
"Mr. Gaeta," Tom said, walking into the cramped room that was serving as an office. "Do you have a copy of the plans for the water reclamation plant? I have a meeting with McMahon and I suspect I'll need a spare… what are you reading?"
Gaeta looked up, surprised. "The Articles," he answered.
"The Articles?" Tom asked, amused. "You're reading the Articles?"
Gaeta shrugged. "I haven't read them since I was in high school. I can recite just about any tech manual you ask for, but the basis of government?" He grinned sheepishly, and then stood up and started rifling through a pile of papers. In seconds he was handing Tom the plans. "I have another two copies, but beyond that I'll have to make more. Not difficult, but possibly a waste of resources at this point. While you're here, Mr. Vice-President, you might want to take a look at this."
Tom took the extended file. "Building codes and labor specifications?"
Gaeta nodded. "I've read it already and marked the changes that I think are relevant, and I've given a copy to the President, but I thought you might want to take a look at it as well. I've also made copies for the Quorum representatives and-"
"Most of them won't read something like this," Tom said, flipping through the packet. "Too low-level."
Gaeta shrugged, but Tom could see the skepticism in his eyes. The kid honestly thought that the Quorum would care about the details, when all they really cared about was that the work got done and their constituents were happy. All that mattered to them was that these codes even existed.
"Right. I'll take a look at it. I'll see you later, Mr. Gaeta."
Gaeta nodded and then sat back down at his desk, bending over the Articles again. Tom shook his head and shut the door behind him. Gaeta was clearly planning to be here late into the night. The kid was going to burn out in a matter of months.
But still, a tiny voice reminded Tom what it was like to be young like that.
***
The sun was setting, coloring the sky a washed-out red. On Sagittaron over twenty years ago, Tom wouldn't have even noticed, but here on New Caprica it was a thing of wonder. It made his breath catch in his throat, and he had to swallow before he could continue.
"I'm not saying that the capitalist economic model is a thing of the past," he insisted. "I'm saying it's not effective or efficient for our present situation. We can plan for that model- evolve to it- but right now it doesn't fit the needs of forty thousand people trying to build a civilization with exceedingly limited resources."
"I understand that, Tom, but a collective arrangement denies people of the rights that should be theirs," Gaius riposted, titling back in his chair and turning the glass of ambrosia in his hand. "People need incentive, reward. Surely you don't think a government can mandate people's work ethics?"
Gaeta spoke up. "But sir, right now, everyone is lacking. No one has much of anything. There needs to be some way to ensure that what we do have is distributed equitably."
"Put it on the agenda for tomorrow," Gaius said, waving a hand. "Or sometime soon, at any rate. And if you're both so concerned about the people's precious rights to poverty and dragging each other down, then perhaps you should be living in tents like everyone else." He leaned his head on his hand and picked up a pen, flicking it between his fingers.
Tom and Gaeta exchanged glances. "Mr. President," Gaeta said, "we are. We decided when we landed that having the staff live here was too big a drain on the ship's resources."
Gaius seemed surprised by that, but pleased. "Oh, well. That's settled. That will be all for tonight." Tom sighed and began gathering his papers, but Gaeta leaned forward.
"Mr. President, there's still the matter of the next group of settlers. I think-"
"Mr. Gaeta," Gaius began. "Felix. I am giving you the rest of the evening off. Relax. Get drunk, get yourself laid, and come back tomorrow."
Tom hid a smirk as Gaeta looked down at the desk. "Yes, sir," he demurred, and began gathering his own things.
"Well," Tom laughed as they left the President's office, "that's a pretty easy order to obey. Come on. I'll buy you a drink."
They hadn't even broken ground, but already a tent was set up for the distribution of alcohol. Tom heartily believed that any time a civilization was established, the first thing humans did was find whatever could to frak themselves up. He put a hand on Gaeta's back and half-guided, half-pushed him into the tent. The tent was crowded, but a few people gave way when they spotted Tom. A nod here, a clasped hand there, a personal inquiry addressed to a name that he remembered… the warmth in the crowded tent went up a few degrees.
"Don't you ever relax?" he asked Gaeta when they were seated at a table.
Gaeta raised his eyebrows and his glass. "I am relaxed."
"No, you're not. You're watching everything I do and analyzing it."
"Civilian politics is new territory to me," Gaeta said. He took out a packet of cigarettes and offered one to Tom, who accepted it. "I have a lot of catching up to do."
"You never thought of a political career?" Tom asked casually.
"Well, no." Tom waited, but Gaeta didn't continue. He was staring moodily at the table top, taking a deep drag of his cigarette.
"Tell me something," Tom began, and paused as Gaeta coughed. "In that documentary that they showed about Galactica, you said all you'd ever wanted was to be an officer on a battlestar."
"Yeah, but now that we're hidden from the Cylons-"
"That's not what I'm asking," Tom said with a smile. "I'm curious. Why was that such a lifelong ambition for you? Military family?"
"Oh. No, my parents weren't military," Gaeta said, and Tom noticed that he spoke of them quite easily despite their assumed deaths. "My father was a contractor, though. He designed hulls for large military ships, particularly battlestars. Sometimes he'd take me along on inspection visits." Gaeta grinned nostalgically. "The first time I was ever off-planet was when we visited the Battlestar Solaria. He met my mother when he was working on the Battlestar Pegasus, actually. She was installing the Viper fueling system there."
"I'll bet that made for really interesting dinner conversations at your house," Tom said sarcastically.
"My mother says- well, said, anyway- that 'tylium' wasn't my first word, but it was in the first twenty." Gaeta's smile was twisted as he stubbed out the cigarette and pulled out another. "But needless to say, they weren't upset when I said I wanted to join the Fleet."
"You sound very relaxed about them."
Gaeta snorted. "It's not like I'm the only one who lost my family when the Cylons attacked," he said. He took a deep drink, finally indicating to Tom that the question and the subject agitated him much more deeply than he wanted to let on. "Besides, they were older."
"Lots of older siblings?"
"None. I'm on only child."
"Miracle baby," Tom realized. It was funny how such a little fact could explain so much, like the oddly sheltered air about an otherwise confident commanding officer. He filed it away for further reference, along with the shrug that Gaeta gave at the description.
They continued to talk, mostly inconsequential things that people talk about in bars. But Tom learned a lot. He saw the way Gaeta nodded to the few people from Galacitca already on New Caprica but didn't join their conversations. He noticed that Gaeta wasn't prone to eyeing low-cut shirts and long, slender legs. And by the end of the evening, he knew three times as much about an FTL drive and navigation systems than he had before, which was far more than he ever wanted to know. It was enough to paint a quick sketch of the man Baltar had chosen as a Chief of Staff, and Zarek felt that the drinks he'd bought were money well spent.
***
"You need a suit," Tom announced from the doorway.
Gaeta looked up. "I know," he sighed, glancing down at the casual clothing he was wearing. "But I only had the one with me on Galactica. Not much call for suits in the Colonial Fleet."
"I know." Tom smiled. "Come on."
"But I need to-"
"Felix, the President will live if whatever you're doing is not on his desk in the next five minutes. In fact, I expect he won't get to reading it until two days after you put it there anyway, so you can take an hour."
Gaeta hesitated. "The marketplace is still pretty chaotic," he said dubiously.
"That's not what I had in mind. Come on."
As they walked through the busy streets, a vaguely familiar smell hit them. It took Tom long moments to recognize it, but then he heard the whir of a saw and the memory clicked. Sawdust. And he recognized the young man cutting poles from the spindly trees that grew near the settlement. The worker stopped and waved cheerfully to them.
They continued through until they came to a tent. Tom knocked respectfully on the pole, and an older woman with thick gray hair done up in a twist pushed the flap aside. She smiled as she saw them. "Good morning, Tom. Please, come in."
Tom entered, gesturing with his head for Gaeta to follow. He obeyed, crossing his arms and looking around awkwardly.
"How are you today, Celia?" Tom asked. Spread out on any surface that could possibly hold them were detailed drawings of sewage, power, and water systems. Tom fingered one for a moment, and then focused his full attention on the woman before him.
"I'm fine, Tom." Celia gave him an easy smile. "I almost have those proposals done. I have three different scenarios for you to take a look at, but I'd also like to get Martins down from the Demetrius to discuss the treatment facilities."
"I'll see to it that he's early on the settlement schedule," Tom agreed. "Celia, this is the President's Chief of Staff, Felix Gaeta."
Gaeta extended his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am."
"Very nice to meet you." The smile wasn't so easy any more, and Tom felt for her. She was one of forty thousand sad stories looking for a new start. She looked Gaeta over and turned back to Tom. "You're right. He should be about the same size. You're the navigator from the Galactica, right?"
"Yes ma'am."
"My husband was the navigator on the Valkyrie before he retired and went into defense contracts. I know how unappreciated the position often is." She knelt down and pulled a trunk out from under her bed. "We were travelling to our son's graduation on Tauron when the Cylons attacked. My husband died from a head wound, and obviously, our son…" her voice quavered and she shook her head. Tom laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, and Gaeta stuffed his hands into his pockets, obviously very uncomfortable. Celia surfaced with several items of clothing in her hands. "They were meant to be graduation gifts. I know I should have done something with these, given them to someone who needed them," she said, "but I just couldn't let go."
"Ma'am, I… I can't-"
Behind Celia, Tom shook his head furiously, willing the young man to understand. This woman was waiting to give these tokens to someone in a way that had meaning to her, and this was it. This was not just a donation, but a burial as well, and the only one she was going to get. Gaeta's eyes lit with understanding, and he took the clothing as if he was accepting a folded Colonial flag.
"Thank you," he said in a strangled voice.
"Thank you," Celia whispered.
Tom let the moment linger between them, and then touched Celia gently on the shoulder again. "I'll be in touch regarding the plans, all right? Celia nodded, wringing her hands together, and Tom hugged her carefully. "I'm so sorry for your losses," he murmured in her ear.
"Thank you, Mr. Vice President," she said, and then released him and moved over to her work table. Tom took the hint and led Gaeta out of the tent.
"How do you know her?" Gaeta asked Tom after they'd left.
"She was one of my constituents," Tom explained. "And she's been submitting plans for the sewage system and the power grid within the city. I've had several meetings with her on the subject."
Gaeta stopped and nearly dropped the clothing. "No."
Tom stopped too, and turned, his face a study of puzzlement. "No, what?"
Gaeta shook his head. "This would be a bribe."
Tom sighed. "Felix, no. It's not. Celia will probably get the contract, yes, but it will be fair, I assure you. However, politics is about people, or at least it should be," Zarek said. The fire began to burn in his blood, slow embers that could ignite at any moment. "You don't spend your days meeting with someone and not find out certain facts about them." He began to walk again, and Gaeta was forced to follow. "We have to re-evaluate what government means in our context. What government can't be is a dictatorship, dominating every aspect of people's lives. People need their government to listen, to understand their position. And since we have such a small number of people, all of whom have been through a trauma so extreme that the mind can only begin to fathom it, it becomes even more crucial that the government serves as a facilitator, not a ruler."
"But-"
"Listen. When we were back there, in that tent, you understood what she was saying. You took the clothing for a reason- I saw it on your face. Just because she's a civil engineer who is looking for a job does not mean she is not also a grieving mother, looking for some closure."
"And just because you're a concerned ear and benevolent facilitator doesn't mean you're not looking to see if you can get a lower bid out of her because she's mixing personal feelings with business."
Tom shrugged, amused. "Can't help it if she does," he said lightly, "but just because a transaction happens to serve a purpose doesn't make it immoral. Besides, you do need some new clothes, and she needed the ceremony of it."
Gaeta sighed. "I know," he said. "That's why I said yes."
Tom grinned.
***
The Prometheus landing was the first thing on his agenda that morning, and Felix had found himself up early as the light filtered in through the seams of his tent. He was standing in the barren, muddy field when the accompanying Raptor landed and waved excitedly.
Cally was the first one off the Raptor. She looked around, her face lighting up in the sunshine. "So this is it?" she asked.
"Don't block the doorway," Skulls demanded from the inside. "Come on, Cally. Move it."
"This is it," Felix said. He handed Cally, and then Racetrack and Dee as they came off, bunches of weeds that almost resembled flowers. His eyes widened when he saw Dee in her new uniform. "Congratulations, Lieutenant, and welcome to New Caprica," he said, grinning as if he owned the place.
"What, I don't get flowers?" Chief said as he jumped out. "Gaeta, you wound me!"
They all laughed, and for a brief moment the breeze felt warm. Felix looked at Racetrack. "Everything still on track?"
"As far as I know," Racetrack said. She was taking off her helmet and shaking out her hair. "Prometheus should be landing in a twenty minutes. So this is really it, huh? Doesn't look like much."
Skulls nudged her. "Hey. Don't insult our planet that way," he laughed. He wandered over and gave Felix a one-armed hug that lingered.
Felix grinned ruefully. "I know it's not the land of milk and honey," he said, winking at Dee, "but it isn't that bad. And once we break ground and get some of the facilities built, it will be much more habitable."
The comm unit beeped in the Raptor, and Skulls jumped back in to take the call. Chief rubbed his hands together. "Well, let's get the work done so we can get to the good parts."
The day was taken up with organizing people, shipments, unloadings, and dismantlings. Felix felt like he didn't stop, and only caught glimpses of the people from Galactica that had come down on the Raptor. But finally, when the sun began to set, he was able to catch Dee by the arm.
"Want to grab dinner?" he asked her.
"Sure." Dee's uniform was wrinkled and her hair had escaped its severe bindings, but Felix noticed she'd stuck the little nosegay of weeds (because really, they weren't anything else) in her belt. "How's the food down here?"
"Less inedible as anything on Galactica," Felix admitted cheerfully. They walked companionably through the row of tents, and he pointed out to her how the city was going to shape; where the water reclamation plant would be, the schoolhouse, the hospital, the marketplace. As they walked by Colonial One, they saw Tom Zarek coming out and heading down towards the town.
"Mr. Gaeta," Zarek greeted him. "Everything go all right today?"
"Everything went smoothly, sir," Felix said, pulling himself up. "Oh, Mr. Vice President, this is Lieutenant Dualla-"
"We've met," Dee said curtly.
Belatedly, Felix remembered that Dee had been on the Astral Queen that day. "Oh. Right. Erm…"
Zarek smiled. "It's lovely to see you again, Lieutenant," he said smoothly. "Forgive me for not staying to talk longer, but I'm late for a meeting. Mr. Gaeta, the President wants you to be at a meeting at 0600 tomorrow morning regarding the trade policy."
"I'll be there, sir." They watched him walk off. Beside him, Dee's face was stony.
"I'm sorry," he began. "I forgot-"
"You're working with Tom Zarek," Dee stated flatly.
"Well, yes. He is the Vice President. And before you start," he said, rightly recognizing the signs of war on her face, "I didn't pick him, the government goes a lot more smoothly if I work well with him, and just like with the President, we don't agree. So let's just drop it, okay?"
"But the man is a terrorist. The lives he took just to make a statement-"
"I said let's not go there."
"Fine." Dee pulled herself together, but there was a chill between them. "We should find the others for dinner," Dee said, leading him off like it was her city, not his.
That hadn't been their plan, but he followed her anyway. He didn't really relish the idea of avoiding the topic at dinner, especially when a nagging voice was telling him that he wasn't sure he agreed with Dee about Zarek at all.
***
They ate under the stars, huddled into warm flight suits and coats. "It's nice to see the sky for a change," Cally commented. "It's amazing how much beautiful stars are from the planet instead of from a ship window."
"Gotta admit, it was good to see the sun today," Chief said. "Hey, Gaeta. What is this that we're eating? It's not half bad."
"Well, when it's alive it looks like a cross between a squirrel and a rabbit." Felix noticed that Dee didn't look up when he spoke, she just continued focusing on her plate. "It's amazing what you'll try when you've been eating shipboard rations and protein bars for nine months."
"Any luck on finding fruit?" Skulls asked around a full mouth.
"None," Felix sighed wistfully. "At least, nothing safe to eat. But I think it's still winter; maybe come spring…" he trailed off, trying to remember the last time he'd had fruit. "One of the top priorities is trying to get some growing technologies going; hydroponics, greenhouses, the like. Then maybe we can genetically engineer some of the plants that are around into something more suitable for human consumption."
"From what I've heard today, there are a lot of top priorities," Racetrack said, leaning her elbows on the table.
"Well, what do you expect?" Dee said lightly. "Given who's in charge."
Chief snorted appreciatively, and Felix sighed. Dee continued to eat with a studied grace, ignoring his gaze. Felix turned to Chief. "Are a lot of your crew coming down to settle?"
Chief ran a hand through his hair. "There's a lot that want to," he admitted. "But there's a lot that needs to get done on Galactica, first, and most of them aren't essential for early settlement."
"Do you have any specialists with construction backgrounds?" Felix began, but Cally groaned.
"Can you two last for five minutes without discussing work? Please? It might be nice just to enjoy a night planetside before we have to head back up to Galactica." The look she gave Chief was so pleading and so… Felix smirked. He hadn't seen that one coming. Next to him, Skulls laughed and touched his knee under the table. Amusement shifted rapidly to something else, and Felix swallowed hard.
"I'll give you the list tomorrow," Chief said, and casually draped his arm around the back of Cally's chair. "You gonna be around when we take off?" Although Dee was talking to Racetrack, something about the set of her shoulders told Felix she heard the question and was interested in the answer.
"I should be," Felix said. "Hey, listen. I need to go, but do you guys need me to show you where you're staying for the night?"
Chief shook his head. "Nah, we're set. Thanks, Gaeta."
Felix stood up and took his plate up to the dishwashing station, running it through the water. He'd just set it in the pile of clean ones when he became aware of Skulls standing behind him.
"Hey," he said, turning and smiling.
Skulls smiled back. "I missed it. Where are we staying, again?"
"'We' being the people from the Raptor, or 'we' being you and me?" Felix asked, his smile turning into something more like a leer.
"You know exactly what I mean."
Felix cocked his head towards the door. "Come on. I'll show you."
They walked through the makeshift streets, a set distance between them and making awkward small talk as Felix nodded to people he'd met. But the minute they were in the tent the awkwardness was gone and they were on each other, tearing at each other's clothes and barely making it to the bed.
They lay together in the aftermath. Somehow, Skulls had found something to prop himself up against, and Felix lay with his back against Skulls's chest, playing with their hands, with Skull's legs draped loosely over his.
"Nice to actually have a whole night together for a change instead of just a half hour," Felix sighed. "Plan on sleeping much tonight?"
"Not if we don't have to," Skulls laughed. He rubbed his nose along the back of Felix's neck. "Are we crazy for keeping this just sex?"
Felix sighed heavily. "You over Robert?"
"Nope. You over Baltar?"
"Nope. I'd say we're not crazy for keeping this just sex," Felix said. He pressed their palms together, measuring the length of Skulls' fingers against his. "Besides, you're staying on Galactica."
"Yeah." Skulls sighed and shifted. "What was up with you and Dualla at dinner tonight?" he asked.
Felix shook his head. "Political differences."
"Man. Glad we don't talk politics." Skulls kissed his shoulder.
It was lightly phrased, but it said so much, and Felix knew that even if the dead Robert and the very much alive Gaius Baltar didn't exist, this would never work anyway.
***
Gaeta was five minutes early for the meeting, which didn't surprise Tom in the least. Gaius was late, which was not a surprise, either.
"Pretty girl, your friend," Tom commented as they sat at the table.
"Hmmm?" Gaeta looked abstracted, like his mind was far away. "Oh, Dee? She's not your biggest fan."
"So I remember," Tom said wryly. Gaeta raised his eyebrows meaningfully, but Tom ignored it. "Not my biggest fan is an understatement. Is she yours?"
Gaeta snorted. "After last night, hardly."
"Lover's quarrel?" Gaeta fixed him with a long, are you stupid look, and Tom smirked to himself. He didn't think so- the body language hadn't pointed to it- but he wanted to add another facet to the picture he was forming. "All right, so not a lover's quarrel. Got shot down?"
Gaeta sighed. "Shouldn't we be talking about-" he looked at his agenda- "trade policy? Or finance? Or establishing some sort of monetary system?"
"Not without the President," Tom said gleefully. "So you did get shot down."
"Why is this of any interest to you?" Gaeta asked. "And no, for the record, Mr. Vice President sir, I did not get shot down. She is just a friend."
There was such an air of smugness about him that Tom couldn't help it. "You got laid last night, didn't you?"
He expected a well-deserved questioning of his age. What he got was a sly grin and a simple, "Yes, sir." And he couldn't help laughing.
"What's the joke?" Gaius asked, standing in the doorway. Tom exchanged glances with Gaeta, who gave a slight shake of his head. They both stood, but Gaius waved them down. "I could use a good laugh. I have the worst hangover," he complained, flopping down in his chair.
"Meeting with Franks go all right after I left?" Tom asked.
"Yes," Gaius sighed. "But the woman has an amazingly high tolerance for alcohol. It took another half a bottle to get her to divulge anything about the true state of supplies on the Prometheus, and several glasses beyond that to be sure she was telling the truth." He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "Did you get anything interesting out of Gabaldon?"
"I got a promise of an inventory, although I suspect that it will be… incomplete," Tom sighed. "But more important, I got a promise of a six-month show of good faith before establishing any sort of black market dealings."
"Sir," Gaeta began cautiously, "are we trying to establish a capitalist market or following a collective model?"
"We decided that, Mr. Gaeta," Gaius said.
"No, sir, we didn't."
Tom jumped in smoothly. "I believe that the consensus was that we will work to evolve to a capitalist society, with minimal government interference, but in these early stages, a different strategy must be adopted. But regardless, black market dealings this early in the game would be detrimental to any plan." He kicked Gaius under the desk, and the President snapped back to life.
"I agree," Gaius said, leaning forward and making rapid notes on his pad. "How difficult will it be to enforce such a law, though?"
"Quite difficult without significantly controlling the people and restricting civil liberties," Tom pointed out. "And while we could perhaps offer Gabaldon and some of his cronies… incentives, shall we say, to obey the laws, it's not like black market dealings are a novel concept."
"No," Baltar sighed. "It begins as private trade between two people- two desperate people- and then escalates. I suppose the best way to curb anything like this is to make sure shortages don't develop."
"If you'd like, sir, I can work up a rationing system," Gaeta suggested. "Give people a certain number of credits to budget, give them some control over their own lives but still let them know that the resources are there."
Gaius nodded. "That sounds good. Thank you." Tom noticed that Gaeta smiled as he wrote down what would undoubtedly be a tedious and time consuming task.
They worked steadily for another hour, and by the time they were done the sun was up over the town. Gaius and Gaeta were happily debating some scientific point about a power system, and Tom shut them out for a moment and stared out the window.
After a month of being on this planet, it was beginning to sink in that this was home. He would live the rest of his life here, building a city and a civilization, getting it right this time. He was beginning to realize that this wasn't just a reprieve from the Cylons, but a chance to correct old wrongs, a chance to not only change the world, but create it.
He tuned back into the conversation for a moment- something about membranes and ions and potentials. Gaeta looked flushed and excited, and Gaius even looked happy, especially as he began drawing a diagram on the back of his agenda. They saw it too, and what had begun as a plan simply to win an election was blossoming into a whole new dream. Tom couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this sort of… of hope.
And judging by the others, they could feel it too.
***
The Raptor was taking off at noon. Felix managed to get there as Racetrack and Skulls were going through the preflight check. Dee was helping Cally and Chief load some supplies to take back up to the Galactica.
"I don't care what these things look like," Chief told Gaeta as he approached, hoisting an insulated box. "Everyone's going to be happy to have fresh meat tonight."
Gaeta laughed. "You know they're rodents."
"They're edible," Chief corrected firmly. "Cally, can you get that one next?" he asked, pointing to a box. Felix grabbed Dee's arm.
"Hey," he said quietly.
"Hey."
"Dee, don't go away angry at me."
Dee looked at the others, sighed, put down her box and stepped away. "I'm not," she admitted. "I'm just… worried."
"Well, don't be," Felix said. "Everything will be fine. And if it's not…" he shrugged. "I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself, you know."
"I know." Dee smiled. "So. Where did you disappear to last night?" She glanced back at the Raptor significantly. Felix flushed, and Dee raised her eyebrows. "How's he been taking you moving to New Caprica?"
"I keep telling you," Felix said, pulling her a little further away. "It's not serious."
"It's been going on for three months. That seems serious to me."
But he just shook his head, because her going on about his sex life was far preferable to yet another argument about his career. Fortunately, Chief saved him.
"Lieutenant! I need that box next!"
"Coming, Chief!" Dee shouted back. "Think about it," she said over her shoulder.
"Come on!" Racetrack shouted from the cockpit. "Let's move it, guys!"
In minutes, Felix was left in the fumes of tylium exhaust, waving at the Raptor until it disappeared from sight.
***
"So tell me," Tom said late that night when it was just him and Gaius at the desk, "what did you really get out of Captain Franks?"
"Pretty much exactly what I said," Gaius admitted, pouring them both a drink. "Well, and the fact that she would like input on trade policy. Well, what there can be of it amongst this lot."
"Is she qualified?"
"I think so, yes."
Tom turned the glass in his hand. The logical question, of course, was what were Doyle Franks' qualifications, and if they were something that were described on a resume or in a crate of liquor and cigars. She might have the former, but given the quality of the whiskey Gaius had poured, she had the latter, as well.
"I see," Tom said.
"What?" Gaius sat up straight. "I'll have you know that she's been regulating trade policy in a very delicate situations for over ten years. Additionally, she has a very strict view on enforcing her policies and won't tolerate any deviation."
Tom exhaled slowly. "I wasn't questioning it," he said finally.
Gaius snorted. "You sound like Gaeta." But his smile softened at that statement. "Believe me, Tom. I wouldn't give that sort of influence to someone I didn't believe was qualified."
He looked so sincere, so distraught that Tom found himself smiling. "I believe you." He didn't, but he could keep an eye on her. He knocked back the rest of his drink. "Shall we leave the rest of the running of the world for tomorrow?" he asked, suddenly tired.
"Feel free," Gaius said, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture.
Tom stopped by his office, dropped off his papers and shouldered his coat. As he left the ship, he noticed that the light was still on in Gaeta's office. He shook his head and headed out into the streets.
The air was cold, with a stiff wind that penetrated the leather of his jacket and made him shiver. The canvas of the tents wouldn't be keeping much cold out, but here and there he saw the glows of camp fires and small power cells. The low hum of conversation was punctuated with metal clinking and footsteps, and sharper sounds as people hailed others. As he passed one tent he heard a mother singing a lullabye, and another he heard a man and a woman laughing a low, intimate laugh.
His own tent seemed silent when he pushed aside the flaps and entered. Tom heated up a cup of hot water and made what passed for tea, and pulled out a book. He'd read it seven times already since the attack on the Colonies, but reading material was hard to come by. Normally, he didn't have a hard time getting sucked in, but tonight, his mind just refused to focus. He sighed and put the book down, lay down on his bed and stared at the ceiling.
For all the life and crowds around him, the tent really was very quiet.
Funny how he'd never really noticed that before.
On to Part 2
Author:
lls_mutantRating: PG-13-ish
Characters: Felix Gaeta and Tom Zarek
Pairings: Gaeta/Skulls, eventual Gaeta/Baltar, eventual unrequited Zarek/Roslin
Summary: New Caprica was meant to be a new beginning. At least, that's how Felix Gaeta and Tom Zarek both saw it.
Spoilers: Mostly set on New Caprica, but through 4.10 just to be safe.
Author's Note: Thanks to
falafel_musings for the excellent beta, and ebuchala for very helpful discussion."Vice President Zarek, this is Lieutenant Felix Gaeta."
"I've heard the name," Tom said, extending his hand to the stiffly formal young man who stood next to Baltar. Gaeta's eyes flashed briefly to Baltar before he accepted the handshake, but his hand was firm around Tom's.
"Nice to meet you, sir," he answered.
"Lieutenant Gaeta will be serving as my Chief of Staff," Baltar explained, "once his discharge from the military is complete."
"I see," Tom said neutrally. "When should that be?"
"I'm not sure, sir, but it shouldn't take long." There was an air of discomfort about Gaeta, his eyes slipping away from Tom's for a moment as he clasped his hands behind his back. Tom raised his eyes at Baltar, who shook his head just slightly. So. There was a story here.
"Well, I look forward to working with you," Tom said easily.
"As do I, sir."
Three sirs in as many sentences. Tom couldn't wait to hear Baltar's explanation for this one.
***
"Well?" he asked, when he and Gaius were alone.
"He's very efficient," Gaius explained, settling down at his desk. "Very bright young lad."
"Military through-and-through. Adama hasn't exactly been your biggest supporter."
"Yes, well. Adama may not have been. But it turns out that you were right, Tom, about the election being fixed." Gaius leaned back in his chair, picking up a pen and turning it over in his hands. "I still cannot believe that Roslin herself had anything to do with it-" Tom allowed himself a snort of disbelief at that, but Gaius ignored him- "but it was, indeed, fixed."
Realization dawned. "Gaeta blew the whistle on it."
"Yes."
"Loyalty to you?"
Gaius quirked an eyebrow. "Do you doubt it?"
"Not really," Tom replied lightly, although he'd want a verification on that hypothesis. "I assume Adama isn't too happy about it."
"Yes, well, there are reasons it shouldn't take long for him to join the staff." Gaius leaned forward and poured them both a glass of whiskey. He leaned back and examined the color of the liquor, turning the glass so it caught the light. "Although I have to confess I take a certain delight in anything that annoys Adama right now."
Tom grinned. "I'll drink to that."
***
Felix closed the box and marked it firmly with his name. Dee, sitting on the table, watched him with sad eyes.
"Would you stop that?" he demanded, swatting at her playfully. "I'm going down to the planet. Stop acting like I'm going into exile."
"I'm still surprised," Dee said.
"Why? Dee, the war is over," Felix said. "The Cylons aren't going to find us here. It's done. There's nothing left in the Fleet any more." He smirked. "At least, not for me."
Dee didn't even look embarrassed at what he was implying. Her mind seemed much further away. "You're really going to work for Gaius Baltar."
"He's the President, Dee. That's who the Chief of Staff usually works for." He sighed. "Come on. In a few years the Galactica will be decommissioned, and you and Lee will be down on New Caprica raising a hoard of fat babies and I'll drop in, spoil them rotten, and sneak them lots of sugar before I leave for the night."
"Right," Dee laughed, but there was a wistful look in her eyes. "Look, Felix, I understand you wanting to go down to the planet. I do. But I just can't shake the feeling that Baltar's going to make a mess of it."
"President Baltar is a brilliant man," Felix replied stiffly. "He-"
"Please do not start on the credentials of Gaius Baltar again," Dee groaned. "He might be brilliant, but he has no concept of-"
"Stop. Just stop." Felix snapped, and they stared at each other for a long, tense moment. "My transport leaves in twenty minutes," he said finally, his words cutting through the silence. "Let's not go through this again."
For a moment, Dee looked mutinous, but then she nodded. "You're right," she said, pushing off the table. "You're right," she repeated, half-throwing her hands up. "This isn't the way to say goodbye. Who knows when we'll see each other again."
Felix sighed heavily. "In a few days, when you come down to New Caprica on a Raptor, Dee. I keep telling you, the war is over. We're safe. We're done." He picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder, pulling his shirt down as it rode up. "Everything is going to be fine."
***
Felix was one of the first to leave the Galactica, but there was no real ceremony to it. No applause and no jeers, just a few quick good-byes from people who were staying, like Helo and Skulls and Hoshi. And when he climbed on the Raptor to go down to the planet's surface, he felt like the weight of a past life was being left in orbit, and he was staring into a vast unknown, filled with promise.
When he stepped of the Raptor, Gaius Baltar and Tom Zarek were waiting for him with a bottle of champagne, ready to begin the world.
***
"Mr. Gaeta," Tom said, walking into the cramped room that was serving as an office. "Do you have a copy of the plans for the water reclamation plant? I have a meeting with McMahon and I suspect I'll need a spare… what are you reading?"
Gaeta looked up, surprised. "The Articles," he answered.
"The Articles?" Tom asked, amused. "You're reading the Articles?"
Gaeta shrugged. "I haven't read them since I was in high school. I can recite just about any tech manual you ask for, but the basis of government?" He grinned sheepishly, and then stood up and started rifling through a pile of papers. In seconds he was handing Tom the plans. "I have another two copies, but beyond that I'll have to make more. Not difficult, but possibly a waste of resources at this point. While you're here, Mr. Vice-President, you might want to take a look at this."
Tom took the extended file. "Building codes and labor specifications?"
Gaeta nodded. "I've read it already and marked the changes that I think are relevant, and I've given a copy to the President, but I thought you might want to take a look at it as well. I've also made copies for the Quorum representatives and-"
"Most of them won't read something like this," Tom said, flipping through the packet. "Too low-level."
Gaeta shrugged, but Tom could see the skepticism in his eyes. The kid honestly thought that the Quorum would care about the details, when all they really cared about was that the work got done and their constituents were happy. All that mattered to them was that these codes even existed.
"Right. I'll take a look at it. I'll see you later, Mr. Gaeta."
Gaeta nodded and then sat back down at his desk, bending over the Articles again. Tom shook his head and shut the door behind him. Gaeta was clearly planning to be here late into the night. The kid was going to burn out in a matter of months.
But still, a tiny voice reminded Tom what it was like to be young like that.
***
The sun was setting, coloring the sky a washed-out red. On Sagittaron over twenty years ago, Tom wouldn't have even noticed, but here on New Caprica it was a thing of wonder. It made his breath catch in his throat, and he had to swallow before he could continue.
"I'm not saying that the capitalist economic model is a thing of the past," he insisted. "I'm saying it's not effective or efficient for our present situation. We can plan for that model- evolve to it- but right now it doesn't fit the needs of forty thousand people trying to build a civilization with exceedingly limited resources."
"I understand that, Tom, but a collective arrangement denies people of the rights that should be theirs," Gaius riposted, titling back in his chair and turning the glass of ambrosia in his hand. "People need incentive, reward. Surely you don't think a government can mandate people's work ethics?"
Gaeta spoke up. "But sir, right now, everyone is lacking. No one has much of anything. There needs to be some way to ensure that what we do have is distributed equitably."
"Put it on the agenda for tomorrow," Gaius said, waving a hand. "Or sometime soon, at any rate. And if you're both so concerned about the people's precious rights to poverty and dragging each other down, then perhaps you should be living in tents like everyone else." He leaned his head on his hand and picked up a pen, flicking it between his fingers.
Tom and Gaeta exchanged glances. "Mr. President," Gaeta said, "we are. We decided when we landed that having the staff live here was too big a drain on the ship's resources."
Gaius seemed surprised by that, but pleased. "Oh, well. That's settled. That will be all for tonight." Tom sighed and began gathering his papers, but Gaeta leaned forward.
"Mr. President, there's still the matter of the next group of settlers. I think-"
"Mr. Gaeta," Gaius began. "Felix. I am giving you the rest of the evening off. Relax. Get drunk, get yourself laid, and come back tomorrow."
Tom hid a smirk as Gaeta looked down at the desk. "Yes, sir," he demurred, and began gathering his own things.
"Well," Tom laughed as they left the President's office, "that's a pretty easy order to obey. Come on. I'll buy you a drink."
They hadn't even broken ground, but already a tent was set up for the distribution of alcohol. Tom heartily believed that any time a civilization was established, the first thing humans did was find whatever could to frak themselves up. He put a hand on Gaeta's back and half-guided, half-pushed him into the tent. The tent was crowded, but a few people gave way when they spotted Tom. A nod here, a clasped hand there, a personal inquiry addressed to a name that he remembered… the warmth in the crowded tent went up a few degrees.
"Don't you ever relax?" he asked Gaeta when they were seated at a table.
Gaeta raised his eyebrows and his glass. "I am relaxed."
"No, you're not. You're watching everything I do and analyzing it."
"Civilian politics is new territory to me," Gaeta said. He took out a packet of cigarettes and offered one to Tom, who accepted it. "I have a lot of catching up to do."
"You never thought of a political career?" Tom asked casually.
"Well, no." Tom waited, but Gaeta didn't continue. He was staring moodily at the table top, taking a deep drag of his cigarette.
"Tell me something," Tom began, and paused as Gaeta coughed. "In that documentary that they showed about Galactica, you said all you'd ever wanted was to be an officer on a battlestar."
"Yeah, but now that we're hidden from the Cylons-"
"That's not what I'm asking," Tom said with a smile. "I'm curious. Why was that such a lifelong ambition for you? Military family?"
"Oh. No, my parents weren't military," Gaeta said, and Tom noticed that he spoke of them quite easily despite their assumed deaths. "My father was a contractor, though. He designed hulls for large military ships, particularly battlestars. Sometimes he'd take me along on inspection visits." Gaeta grinned nostalgically. "The first time I was ever off-planet was when we visited the Battlestar Solaria. He met my mother when he was working on the Battlestar Pegasus, actually. She was installing the Viper fueling system there."
"I'll bet that made for really interesting dinner conversations at your house," Tom said sarcastically.
"My mother says- well, said, anyway- that 'tylium' wasn't my first word, but it was in the first twenty." Gaeta's smile was twisted as he stubbed out the cigarette and pulled out another. "But needless to say, they weren't upset when I said I wanted to join the Fleet."
"You sound very relaxed about them."
Gaeta snorted. "It's not like I'm the only one who lost my family when the Cylons attacked," he said. He took a deep drink, finally indicating to Tom that the question and the subject agitated him much more deeply than he wanted to let on. "Besides, they were older."
"Lots of older siblings?"
"None. I'm on only child."
"Miracle baby," Tom realized. It was funny how such a little fact could explain so much, like the oddly sheltered air about an otherwise confident commanding officer. He filed it away for further reference, along with the shrug that Gaeta gave at the description.
They continued to talk, mostly inconsequential things that people talk about in bars. But Tom learned a lot. He saw the way Gaeta nodded to the few people from Galacitca already on New Caprica but didn't join their conversations. He noticed that Gaeta wasn't prone to eyeing low-cut shirts and long, slender legs. And by the end of the evening, he knew three times as much about an FTL drive and navigation systems than he had before, which was far more than he ever wanted to know. It was enough to paint a quick sketch of the man Baltar had chosen as a Chief of Staff, and Zarek felt that the drinks he'd bought were money well spent.
***
"You need a suit," Tom announced from the doorway.
Gaeta looked up. "I know," he sighed, glancing down at the casual clothing he was wearing. "But I only had the one with me on Galactica. Not much call for suits in the Colonial Fleet."
"I know." Tom smiled. "Come on."
"But I need to-"
"Felix, the President will live if whatever you're doing is not on his desk in the next five minutes. In fact, I expect he won't get to reading it until two days after you put it there anyway, so you can take an hour."
Gaeta hesitated. "The marketplace is still pretty chaotic," he said dubiously.
"That's not what I had in mind. Come on."
As they walked through the busy streets, a vaguely familiar smell hit them. It took Tom long moments to recognize it, but then he heard the whir of a saw and the memory clicked. Sawdust. And he recognized the young man cutting poles from the spindly trees that grew near the settlement. The worker stopped and waved cheerfully to them.
They continued through until they came to a tent. Tom knocked respectfully on the pole, and an older woman with thick gray hair done up in a twist pushed the flap aside. She smiled as she saw them. "Good morning, Tom. Please, come in."
Tom entered, gesturing with his head for Gaeta to follow. He obeyed, crossing his arms and looking around awkwardly.
"How are you today, Celia?" Tom asked. Spread out on any surface that could possibly hold them were detailed drawings of sewage, power, and water systems. Tom fingered one for a moment, and then focused his full attention on the woman before him.
"I'm fine, Tom." Celia gave him an easy smile. "I almost have those proposals done. I have three different scenarios for you to take a look at, but I'd also like to get Martins down from the Demetrius to discuss the treatment facilities."
"I'll see to it that he's early on the settlement schedule," Tom agreed. "Celia, this is the President's Chief of Staff, Felix Gaeta."
Gaeta extended his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am."
"Very nice to meet you." The smile wasn't so easy any more, and Tom felt for her. She was one of forty thousand sad stories looking for a new start. She looked Gaeta over and turned back to Tom. "You're right. He should be about the same size. You're the navigator from the Galactica, right?"
"Yes ma'am."
"My husband was the navigator on the Valkyrie before he retired and went into defense contracts. I know how unappreciated the position often is." She knelt down and pulled a trunk out from under her bed. "We were travelling to our son's graduation on Tauron when the Cylons attacked. My husband died from a head wound, and obviously, our son…" her voice quavered and she shook her head. Tom laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, and Gaeta stuffed his hands into his pockets, obviously very uncomfortable. Celia surfaced with several items of clothing in her hands. "They were meant to be graduation gifts. I know I should have done something with these, given them to someone who needed them," she said, "but I just couldn't let go."
"Ma'am, I… I can't-"
Behind Celia, Tom shook his head furiously, willing the young man to understand. This woman was waiting to give these tokens to someone in a way that had meaning to her, and this was it. This was not just a donation, but a burial as well, and the only one she was going to get. Gaeta's eyes lit with understanding, and he took the clothing as if he was accepting a folded Colonial flag.
"Thank you," he said in a strangled voice.
"Thank you," Celia whispered.
Tom let the moment linger between them, and then touched Celia gently on the shoulder again. "I'll be in touch regarding the plans, all right? Celia nodded, wringing her hands together, and Tom hugged her carefully. "I'm so sorry for your losses," he murmured in her ear.
"Thank you, Mr. Vice President," she said, and then released him and moved over to her work table. Tom took the hint and led Gaeta out of the tent.
"How do you know her?" Gaeta asked Tom after they'd left.
"She was one of my constituents," Tom explained. "And she's been submitting plans for the sewage system and the power grid within the city. I've had several meetings with her on the subject."
Gaeta stopped and nearly dropped the clothing. "No."
Tom stopped too, and turned, his face a study of puzzlement. "No, what?"
Gaeta shook his head. "This would be a bribe."
Tom sighed. "Felix, no. It's not. Celia will probably get the contract, yes, but it will be fair, I assure you. However, politics is about people, or at least it should be," Zarek said. The fire began to burn in his blood, slow embers that could ignite at any moment. "You don't spend your days meeting with someone and not find out certain facts about them." He began to walk again, and Gaeta was forced to follow. "We have to re-evaluate what government means in our context. What government can't be is a dictatorship, dominating every aspect of people's lives. People need their government to listen, to understand their position. And since we have such a small number of people, all of whom have been through a trauma so extreme that the mind can only begin to fathom it, it becomes even more crucial that the government serves as a facilitator, not a ruler."
"But-"
"Listen. When we were back there, in that tent, you understood what she was saying. You took the clothing for a reason- I saw it on your face. Just because she's a civil engineer who is looking for a job does not mean she is not also a grieving mother, looking for some closure."
"And just because you're a concerned ear and benevolent facilitator doesn't mean you're not looking to see if you can get a lower bid out of her because she's mixing personal feelings with business."
Tom shrugged, amused. "Can't help it if she does," he said lightly, "but just because a transaction happens to serve a purpose doesn't make it immoral. Besides, you do need some new clothes, and she needed the ceremony of it."
Gaeta sighed. "I know," he said. "That's why I said yes."
Tom grinned.
***
The Prometheus landing was the first thing on his agenda that morning, and Felix had found himself up early as the light filtered in through the seams of his tent. He was standing in the barren, muddy field when the accompanying Raptor landed and waved excitedly.
Cally was the first one off the Raptor. She looked around, her face lighting up in the sunshine. "So this is it?" she asked.
"Don't block the doorway," Skulls demanded from the inside. "Come on, Cally. Move it."
"This is it," Felix said. He handed Cally, and then Racetrack and Dee as they came off, bunches of weeds that almost resembled flowers. His eyes widened when he saw Dee in her new uniform. "Congratulations, Lieutenant, and welcome to New Caprica," he said, grinning as if he owned the place.
"What, I don't get flowers?" Chief said as he jumped out. "Gaeta, you wound me!"
They all laughed, and for a brief moment the breeze felt warm. Felix looked at Racetrack. "Everything still on track?"
"As far as I know," Racetrack said. She was taking off her helmet and shaking out her hair. "Prometheus should be landing in a twenty minutes. So this is really it, huh? Doesn't look like much."
Skulls nudged her. "Hey. Don't insult our planet that way," he laughed. He wandered over and gave Felix a one-armed hug that lingered.
Felix grinned ruefully. "I know it's not the land of milk and honey," he said, winking at Dee, "but it isn't that bad. And once we break ground and get some of the facilities built, it will be much more habitable."
The comm unit beeped in the Raptor, and Skulls jumped back in to take the call. Chief rubbed his hands together. "Well, let's get the work done so we can get to the good parts."
The day was taken up with organizing people, shipments, unloadings, and dismantlings. Felix felt like he didn't stop, and only caught glimpses of the people from Galactica that had come down on the Raptor. But finally, when the sun began to set, he was able to catch Dee by the arm.
"Want to grab dinner?" he asked her.
"Sure." Dee's uniform was wrinkled and her hair had escaped its severe bindings, but Felix noticed she'd stuck the little nosegay of weeds (because really, they weren't anything else) in her belt. "How's the food down here?"
"Less inedible as anything on Galactica," Felix admitted cheerfully. They walked companionably through the row of tents, and he pointed out to her how the city was going to shape; where the water reclamation plant would be, the schoolhouse, the hospital, the marketplace. As they walked by Colonial One, they saw Tom Zarek coming out and heading down towards the town.
"Mr. Gaeta," Zarek greeted him. "Everything go all right today?"
"Everything went smoothly, sir," Felix said, pulling himself up. "Oh, Mr. Vice President, this is Lieutenant Dualla-"
"We've met," Dee said curtly.
Belatedly, Felix remembered that Dee had been on the Astral Queen that day. "Oh. Right. Erm…"
Zarek smiled. "It's lovely to see you again, Lieutenant," he said smoothly. "Forgive me for not staying to talk longer, but I'm late for a meeting. Mr. Gaeta, the President wants you to be at a meeting at 0600 tomorrow morning regarding the trade policy."
"I'll be there, sir." They watched him walk off. Beside him, Dee's face was stony.
"I'm sorry," he began. "I forgot-"
"You're working with Tom Zarek," Dee stated flatly.
"Well, yes. He is the Vice President. And before you start," he said, rightly recognizing the signs of war on her face, "I didn't pick him, the government goes a lot more smoothly if I work well with him, and just like with the President, we don't agree. So let's just drop it, okay?"
"But the man is a terrorist. The lives he took just to make a statement-"
"I said let's not go there."
"Fine." Dee pulled herself together, but there was a chill between them. "We should find the others for dinner," Dee said, leading him off like it was her city, not his.
That hadn't been their plan, but he followed her anyway. He didn't really relish the idea of avoiding the topic at dinner, especially when a nagging voice was telling him that he wasn't sure he agreed with Dee about Zarek at all.
***
They ate under the stars, huddled into warm flight suits and coats. "It's nice to see the sky for a change," Cally commented. "It's amazing how much beautiful stars are from the planet instead of from a ship window."
"Gotta admit, it was good to see the sun today," Chief said. "Hey, Gaeta. What is this that we're eating? It's not half bad."
"Well, when it's alive it looks like a cross between a squirrel and a rabbit." Felix noticed that Dee didn't look up when he spoke, she just continued focusing on her plate. "It's amazing what you'll try when you've been eating shipboard rations and protein bars for nine months."
"Any luck on finding fruit?" Skulls asked around a full mouth.
"None," Felix sighed wistfully. "At least, nothing safe to eat. But I think it's still winter; maybe come spring…" he trailed off, trying to remember the last time he'd had fruit. "One of the top priorities is trying to get some growing technologies going; hydroponics, greenhouses, the like. Then maybe we can genetically engineer some of the plants that are around into something more suitable for human consumption."
"From what I've heard today, there are a lot of top priorities," Racetrack said, leaning her elbows on the table.
"Well, what do you expect?" Dee said lightly. "Given who's in charge."
Chief snorted appreciatively, and Felix sighed. Dee continued to eat with a studied grace, ignoring his gaze. Felix turned to Chief. "Are a lot of your crew coming down to settle?"
Chief ran a hand through his hair. "There's a lot that want to," he admitted. "But there's a lot that needs to get done on Galactica, first, and most of them aren't essential for early settlement."
"Do you have any specialists with construction backgrounds?" Felix began, but Cally groaned.
"Can you two last for five minutes without discussing work? Please? It might be nice just to enjoy a night planetside before we have to head back up to Galactica." The look she gave Chief was so pleading and so… Felix smirked. He hadn't seen that one coming. Next to him, Skulls laughed and touched his knee under the table. Amusement shifted rapidly to something else, and Felix swallowed hard.
"I'll give you the list tomorrow," Chief said, and casually draped his arm around the back of Cally's chair. "You gonna be around when we take off?" Although Dee was talking to Racetrack, something about the set of her shoulders told Felix she heard the question and was interested in the answer.
"I should be," Felix said. "Hey, listen. I need to go, but do you guys need me to show you where you're staying for the night?"
Chief shook his head. "Nah, we're set. Thanks, Gaeta."
Felix stood up and took his plate up to the dishwashing station, running it through the water. He'd just set it in the pile of clean ones when he became aware of Skulls standing behind him.
"Hey," he said, turning and smiling.
Skulls smiled back. "I missed it. Where are we staying, again?"
"'We' being the people from the Raptor, or 'we' being you and me?" Felix asked, his smile turning into something more like a leer.
"You know exactly what I mean."
Felix cocked his head towards the door. "Come on. I'll show you."
They walked through the makeshift streets, a set distance between them and making awkward small talk as Felix nodded to people he'd met. But the minute they were in the tent the awkwardness was gone and they were on each other, tearing at each other's clothes and barely making it to the bed.
They lay together in the aftermath. Somehow, Skulls had found something to prop himself up against, and Felix lay with his back against Skulls's chest, playing with their hands, with Skull's legs draped loosely over his.
"Nice to actually have a whole night together for a change instead of just a half hour," Felix sighed. "Plan on sleeping much tonight?"
"Not if we don't have to," Skulls laughed. He rubbed his nose along the back of Felix's neck. "Are we crazy for keeping this just sex?"
Felix sighed heavily. "You over Robert?"
"Nope. You over Baltar?"
"Nope. I'd say we're not crazy for keeping this just sex," Felix said. He pressed their palms together, measuring the length of Skulls' fingers against his. "Besides, you're staying on Galactica."
"Yeah." Skulls sighed and shifted. "What was up with you and Dualla at dinner tonight?" he asked.
Felix shook his head. "Political differences."
"Man. Glad we don't talk politics." Skulls kissed his shoulder.
It was lightly phrased, but it said so much, and Felix knew that even if the dead Robert and the very much alive Gaius Baltar didn't exist, this would never work anyway.
***
Gaeta was five minutes early for the meeting, which didn't surprise Tom in the least. Gaius was late, which was not a surprise, either.
"Pretty girl, your friend," Tom commented as they sat at the table.
"Hmmm?" Gaeta looked abstracted, like his mind was far away. "Oh, Dee? She's not your biggest fan."
"So I remember," Tom said wryly. Gaeta raised his eyebrows meaningfully, but Tom ignored it. "Not my biggest fan is an understatement. Is she yours?"
Gaeta snorted. "After last night, hardly."
"Lover's quarrel?" Gaeta fixed him with a long, are you stupid look, and Tom smirked to himself. He didn't think so- the body language hadn't pointed to it- but he wanted to add another facet to the picture he was forming. "All right, so not a lover's quarrel. Got shot down?"
Gaeta sighed. "Shouldn't we be talking about-" he looked at his agenda- "trade policy? Or finance? Or establishing some sort of monetary system?"
"Not without the President," Tom said gleefully. "So you did get shot down."
"Why is this of any interest to you?" Gaeta asked. "And no, for the record, Mr. Vice President sir, I did not get shot down. She is just a friend."
There was such an air of smugness about him that Tom couldn't help it. "You got laid last night, didn't you?"
He expected a well-deserved questioning of his age. What he got was a sly grin and a simple, "Yes, sir." And he couldn't help laughing.
"What's the joke?" Gaius asked, standing in the doorway. Tom exchanged glances with Gaeta, who gave a slight shake of his head. They both stood, but Gaius waved them down. "I could use a good laugh. I have the worst hangover," he complained, flopping down in his chair.
"Meeting with Franks go all right after I left?" Tom asked.
"Yes," Gaius sighed. "But the woman has an amazingly high tolerance for alcohol. It took another half a bottle to get her to divulge anything about the true state of supplies on the Prometheus, and several glasses beyond that to be sure she was telling the truth." He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "Did you get anything interesting out of Gabaldon?"
"I got a promise of an inventory, although I suspect that it will be… incomplete," Tom sighed. "But more important, I got a promise of a six-month show of good faith before establishing any sort of black market dealings."
"Sir," Gaeta began cautiously, "are we trying to establish a capitalist market or following a collective model?"
"We decided that, Mr. Gaeta," Gaius said.
"No, sir, we didn't."
Tom jumped in smoothly. "I believe that the consensus was that we will work to evolve to a capitalist society, with minimal government interference, but in these early stages, a different strategy must be adopted. But regardless, black market dealings this early in the game would be detrimental to any plan." He kicked Gaius under the desk, and the President snapped back to life.
"I agree," Gaius said, leaning forward and making rapid notes on his pad. "How difficult will it be to enforce such a law, though?"
"Quite difficult without significantly controlling the people and restricting civil liberties," Tom pointed out. "And while we could perhaps offer Gabaldon and some of his cronies… incentives, shall we say, to obey the laws, it's not like black market dealings are a novel concept."
"No," Baltar sighed. "It begins as private trade between two people- two desperate people- and then escalates. I suppose the best way to curb anything like this is to make sure shortages don't develop."
"If you'd like, sir, I can work up a rationing system," Gaeta suggested. "Give people a certain number of credits to budget, give them some control over their own lives but still let them know that the resources are there."
Gaius nodded. "That sounds good. Thank you." Tom noticed that Gaeta smiled as he wrote down what would undoubtedly be a tedious and time consuming task.
They worked steadily for another hour, and by the time they were done the sun was up over the town. Gaius and Gaeta were happily debating some scientific point about a power system, and Tom shut them out for a moment and stared out the window.
After a month of being on this planet, it was beginning to sink in that this was home. He would live the rest of his life here, building a city and a civilization, getting it right this time. He was beginning to realize that this wasn't just a reprieve from the Cylons, but a chance to correct old wrongs, a chance to not only change the world, but create it.
He tuned back into the conversation for a moment- something about membranes and ions and potentials. Gaeta looked flushed and excited, and Gaius even looked happy, especially as he began drawing a diagram on the back of his agenda. They saw it too, and what had begun as a plan simply to win an election was blossoming into a whole new dream. Tom couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this sort of… of hope.
And judging by the others, they could feel it too.
***
The Raptor was taking off at noon. Felix managed to get there as Racetrack and Skulls were going through the preflight check. Dee was helping Cally and Chief load some supplies to take back up to the Galactica.
"I don't care what these things look like," Chief told Gaeta as he approached, hoisting an insulated box. "Everyone's going to be happy to have fresh meat tonight."
Gaeta laughed. "You know they're rodents."
"They're edible," Chief corrected firmly. "Cally, can you get that one next?" he asked, pointing to a box. Felix grabbed Dee's arm.
"Hey," he said quietly.
"Hey."
"Dee, don't go away angry at me."
Dee looked at the others, sighed, put down her box and stepped away. "I'm not," she admitted. "I'm just… worried."
"Well, don't be," Felix said. "Everything will be fine. And if it's not…" he shrugged. "I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself, you know."
"I know." Dee smiled. "So. Where did you disappear to last night?" She glanced back at the Raptor significantly. Felix flushed, and Dee raised her eyebrows. "How's he been taking you moving to New Caprica?"
"I keep telling you," Felix said, pulling her a little further away. "It's not serious."
"It's been going on for three months. That seems serious to me."
But he just shook his head, because her going on about his sex life was far preferable to yet another argument about his career. Fortunately, Chief saved him.
"Lieutenant! I need that box next!"
"Coming, Chief!" Dee shouted back. "Think about it," she said over her shoulder.
"Come on!" Racetrack shouted from the cockpit. "Let's move it, guys!"
In minutes, Felix was left in the fumes of tylium exhaust, waving at the Raptor until it disappeared from sight.
***
"So tell me," Tom said late that night when it was just him and Gaius at the desk, "what did you really get out of Captain Franks?"
"Pretty much exactly what I said," Gaius admitted, pouring them both a drink. "Well, and the fact that she would like input on trade policy. Well, what there can be of it amongst this lot."
"Is she qualified?"
"I think so, yes."
Tom turned the glass in his hand. The logical question, of course, was what were Doyle Franks' qualifications, and if they were something that were described on a resume or in a crate of liquor and cigars. She might have the former, but given the quality of the whiskey Gaius had poured, she had the latter, as well.
"I see," Tom said.
"What?" Gaius sat up straight. "I'll have you know that she's been regulating trade policy in a very delicate situations for over ten years. Additionally, she has a very strict view on enforcing her policies and won't tolerate any deviation."
Tom exhaled slowly. "I wasn't questioning it," he said finally.
Gaius snorted. "You sound like Gaeta." But his smile softened at that statement. "Believe me, Tom. I wouldn't give that sort of influence to someone I didn't believe was qualified."
He looked so sincere, so distraught that Tom found himself smiling. "I believe you." He didn't, but he could keep an eye on her. He knocked back the rest of his drink. "Shall we leave the rest of the running of the world for tomorrow?" he asked, suddenly tired.
"Feel free," Gaius said, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture.
Tom stopped by his office, dropped off his papers and shouldered his coat. As he left the ship, he noticed that the light was still on in Gaeta's office. He shook his head and headed out into the streets.
The air was cold, with a stiff wind that penetrated the leather of his jacket and made him shiver. The canvas of the tents wouldn't be keeping much cold out, but here and there he saw the glows of camp fires and small power cells. The low hum of conversation was punctuated with metal clinking and footsteps, and sharper sounds as people hailed others. As he passed one tent he heard a mother singing a lullabye, and another he heard a man and a woman laughing a low, intimate laugh.
His own tent seemed silent when he pushed aside the flaps and entered. Tom heated up a cup of hot water and made what passed for tea, and pulled out a book. He'd read it seven times already since the attack on the Colonies, but reading material was hard to come by. Normally, he didn't have a hard time getting sucked in, but tonight, his mind just refused to focus. He sighed and put the book down, lay down on his bed and stared at the ceiling.
For all the life and crowds around him, the tent really was very quiet.
Funny how he'd never really noticed that before.
On to Part 2
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-09-27 10:26 pm (UTC)After a month of being on this planet, it was beginning to sink in that this was home. He would live the rest of his life here, building a city and a civilization, getting it right this time. He was beginning to realize that this wasn't just a reprieve from the Cylons, but a chance to correct old wrongs, a chance to not only change the world, but create it.
This is such a great paragraph--I think it must've been how most of them felt this early on.
I think you did well capturing Gaeta's enthusiasm and expectations for New Caprica. And Zarek's already up to his sneaky, back room politics.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-28 03:46 am (UTC)-I think it must've been how most of them felt this early on.
Yeah- Baltar won for a reason, I think, and it wasn't his stunning intellect or lucidity :) We have such a limited view... and yet, Cally's got a point when she said sometimes it seemed like magic.
Thanks for reading and commenting!
no subject
Date: 2008-09-28 10:08 pm (UTC)You know,
no subject
Date: 2008-09-28 10:05 am (UTC)You have an amazing talent for describing body language. Gaeta's general awkwardness is spot on. It's interesting, the way Zarek observes him and the things he notices. Generally, I'm not much of a Zarek fan, but I could grow to like yours. I can certainly see how he and Felix would have gotten along on New Caprica.
Felix was one of the first to leave the Galactica, but there was no real ceremony to it. ... When he stepped of the Raptor, Gaius Baltar and Tom Zarek were waiting for him with a bottle of champagne. I like the symbolism in this. Especially if you take into account the way Felix' return to Galactica will be 'celebrated'.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-28 12:09 pm (UTC)Yeah, Zarek started catching my attention because there are hints that we see a very incomplete picture of him in canon. There are mentions that he does help other people, and he IS respected and has managed to hold on to power. And way back, when he got his start, my impression is that his cause was very just- it was just his means that were not acceptable. Or debatable, anyway. He strikes me as someone who really wants to make a difference and really wants things to go right, but is willing to make that happen however he needs to. However, his corruption seems very specific. For example, while I can see him bribing someone, I don't really see him accepting much in the way of bribes, if that makes sense? I'm hoping we see a bit more of him in Season 4.5.
I like the symbolism in this. Especially if you take into account the way Felix' return to Galactica will be 'celebrated'.
Thanks! That was actually one of my favorite lines in the whole thing, for similar reasons. Poor Gaeta is so under appreciated, that it must have been a real rush to be in such a different position!
Thanks for reading! :)
no subject
Date: 2008-09-28 10:05 am (UTC)I'm already looking forward to the upcoming parts. I love the New Caprica story but the missing year leaves so many gaping holes to fill, especially with Gaeta, Baltar and Zarek who barely featured in the 'Unfinished Business' flashback.
My favourite sections of this first chapter were the sharp simplicity of the opening passages. I loved the glimpse into Gaeta's personal/sex life which we never see in canon; his friendly interactions with Dee and Chief were very endearing. You've created a great role for Skulls, who is little more than a bit part on the show. I really loved the sad scene when Gaeta acquires his suit. Also your grasp on politics is very impressive - please say you'll help me out when I get to the politics sections of my own fic!
Your characterisation is pretty much flawless. I especially like your Zarek; he's often a character I don't like or don't identify with on the show and you've made him very accesible, even sympathetic. Your Gaeta is heartbreakingly earnest at this point. His devolution is gonna be both crushing and compelling to read, I can tell.
Great work! Can't wait for more.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-28 12:15 pm (UTC)Also your grasp on politics is very impressive - please say you'll help me out when I get to the politics sections of my own fic!
::Blush:: I'm glad you think so- politics scare me! (To be honest, I very much agree with Gaius's assessment ;) ) But I can definitely try to help when you get there :)
I especially like your Zarek; he's often a character I don't like or don't identify with on the show and you've made him very accesible, even sympathetic.
Thanks! I think we see very little of Zarek, really. I sometimes wish the writers did more with him. I'd like to see more of the effect that being a convict for 20 years had on him, and the realization that he's now free. He's a very ends-justify-the-means person, but I think there's a lot of justice and nobility in what he often envisions as his ends, although he's got a pretty low opinion of humanity.
Your Gaeta is heartbreakingly earnest at this point. His devolution is gonna be both crushing and compelling to read, I can tell.
What is it about Gaeta that makes it so fun to torture him and crush him under your heel? I'm surprised the writers managed to resist it this long... hehehehehhe.
Thanks again! :)
no subject
Date: 2008-10-04 06:50 pm (UTC)This jumped out at me and buried itself in my heart:
She was one of forty thousand sad stories looking for a new start.
Can't wait for more!
no subject
Date: 2008-10-05 12:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-06 03:51 am (UTC)Gaeta's relationship with Dee is highlighted wonderfully here. Dee is spot-on in her stubbornness, her concern for Felix, her lingering, stiff-lipped hatred of Zarek. The implication of a Gaeta/Skulls relationship is interesting too.
Overall, I like the way you are juggling between several different viewpoints on New Caprica, even the people who aren't really on Caprica, but visiting it regularly. It's giving this fic a very realistic, fleshed out feel. And the hints of trouble bubbling underneath the hope and happiness of early New Caprica are subtly, skillfully laid out. Well done.
no subject
Date: 2008-10-06 03:00 pm (UTC)I've always wondered what they made of each other, especially before the Circle.
Such an interesting thought, isn't it? I know the show only has so much time, and they're minor characters, but there's such interesting potential there. In a way, I think they really have a lot in common. Tom's an idealist of a sort himself... corrupted, in ways, but he has some very strict standards. I wish the show had more time to devote to him as a person, and not just a figure, if that makes sense.
I know this is a common thought, but I so want to hug Felix in your icon :)
Thanks so much! :)
no subject
Date: 2008-10-08 06:00 am (UTC)OMG, Felix is *totally* huggable in that icon, although this is the one that always really gets me. :)
no subject
Date: 2009-04-26 09:55 pm (UTC)You know, this is a set of characters I generally spend less time thinking about, but this fic makes me want to think about them more. You've really nailed the voices and I love the exchanges...
I think my favorite line in this chapter was "Come on. In a few years the Galactica will be decommissioned, and you and Lee will be down on New Caprica raising a hoard of fat babies and I'll drop in, spoil them rotten, and sneak them lots of sugar before I leave for the night."
My Gaeta love... is now through the roof. (I'm making a mental note to include him more in whatever fic will be sequel to Out of the Black.)
I also really liked the sections talking about capitalism vs a collective economy. It's not something they really spent too much time discussing on the show but it would certainly be an issue. Hope I can get to more at some point.
no subject
Date: 2009-04-27 01:53 pm (UTC)(I'm making a mental note to include him more in whatever fic will be sequel to Out of the Black.)
::Grins:: Excellent. There can never be enough Gaeta fic. (He was actually a large part of my idea for a Firefly/BSG crossover, too. He and Simon were going to become best friends, because that FITS, and ironically enough, he and Jayne were going to be drinking buddies. And Tom was going to end up on Whitefall, cheerfully becoming political nemesises with Patience.)
I also really liked the sections talking about capitalism vs a collective economy. It's not something they really spent too much time discussing on the show but it would certainly be an issue.
Thanks :) I really wish they'd had more time to address it, as well, but I remember Tom talking about it in Colonial Day.
It's funny- I hadn't reread this chapter in a long time, and after you commented I went back and reread. I wrote this before 4.5 came out, and it cracked me up to see how well some of Tom's speeches fit into his 4.5 arc.
Thanks again! :)
no subject
Date: 2009-04-27 02:41 pm (UTC)I will finish reading and leaving comments along the way... eventually.