"Clear Skies"
by Seanchaidh

     I first came up here when I was ten, a young child going on an
adventure with his father into the depths of an immense ship.  It was my
tenth natal day, the passing of my first decade of life.  Dad thought
that an event such as this needed to be passed in a very special way, and
for the sectons leading up to the celebration, he wouldn't say a word
about what his surprise for me might be.
     The day of the celebration itself, after spending the day with our
family and friends, both his and mine, we made a graceful exit so we
could head back to our quarters.  As we walked, Dad was oddly quiet, but
that in itself wasn't too unusual.  My father was a quiet man, only
speaking up when he was among people he was comfortable with.  Even so,
after we reached our quarters, he finally told me to change into
something comfortable, with boots suitable for a long walk.
     A long walk?  Where, I had asked, were we going to go for a long
walk on a battlestar in the middle of space?  But he had just smiled
enigmatically at me before disappearing into his sleeping chambers.  Not
sure that I wanted to know, I hurriedly changed into a less formal
outfit, namely loose trousers and a shirt that had seen better days. 
When I was finished, Dad was already ready.
     It was a very long walk that we went on; longer than what I thought
was possible on the _Galactica_.  Down one corridor and up another, going
from lift to ladder, and from populated areas to places where we were the
only ones for dozens, even hundreds, of metrons.  But soon, after
climbing a few sets of ladders, we reached the destination that Dad had
in mind, and when he opened that hatch to go inside the closed dome, I
thought to myself that this had to be the most disappointing end to
anything I'd ever experienced in my life.
     There was nothing to see, except metal and more metal.  I looked
back at Dad, where he was sitting up at a control panel of sorts.  He was
smiling that secret smile of his again, and told me to close my eyes. 
Giving a sigh, I did, and I heard a click, and then the sounds of gyros
moving. When Dad's voice announced that it was all right to look now, I
carefully uncovered my eyes, not sure what to expect.
     We were surrounded by stars, more than I'd ever seen before.  Even
the clearest skies on Caprica couldn't achieve the magnificence that
surrounded us, and after looking around in total amazement, I looked back
up at my father, seeing the same expression on his face that had to be on
mine. 
     "Amazing, isn't it, Boxey?" he asked me, getting down from his panel
to come next to me.  He stood silently by my side for several centons, as
we both took in the sight of the passing stars.  Finally, he spoke again.
"Happy natal day, son."
     I turned to him, and gave him a hug.  "Thank you for sharing this
with me, Dad."
     His smile told me that he understood completely, and we remained in
the dome for centars.  I don't think we ever had a moment like that ever
again.  Under those stars, protected from the vacuum of space, he wasn't
so much my father as he was a confidant, someone I could talk to and
explain things to.  Tell him my dreams, and not be frightened of them
being ridiculed.  In return, he opened himself up to me, too; telling me
stories about his relationship with my grandfather when he was younger,
and about the dreams he used to have, along with the ones he had now.
     In the sectars after my natal day, we went back to our normal
routines, with me at learning period, and Dad with his position as flight
commander. When he was away on his missions, I'd sometimes go up to
celestial chamber, and open it up while trying to guess in which
direction my father's ship was located.  It was fun trying to guess if I
were right, and if I were, Dad would give me a hug, telling me that I was
going to make a finer warrior than he'd ever be.
     He never had the chance to find out.  Two sectars before my eleventh
natal day, Dad went out on solo patrol, and he never came back. 
Grandfather sent Starbuck, Boomer, and my would-be mother -- I knew Dad
had been meaning to propose to Shaba for sectons now -- out to find him,
but they came back empty-handed.  In the countless moments of grief that
came, I would always head back up to the dome, to the only place in the
ship where I felt comfortable thinking about him.
     Then came my brother Josce's birth, eight sectars after Dad's death,
and I became too involved with him and my school work to spare any time
to go up to the celestial dome.  It was pushed to a corner of my memory,
never to be touched or even thought about as I first moved with Sheba and
Josce to the passenger ship _Achilles_, then came back to the _Galactica_
to attend the Academy.
     My graduation came quickly, even though I'd been there for four
yahrens. While it was a moment of celebration for my friends, and the
completion of a goal for me, it just didn't feel right.  In the faces of
my family and friends, the dark-haired, green-eyed face of my father was
missing from the celebrants.  In my one moment of glory, I wanted only my
father so I could see the pride on his face.  Selfish, I know, but that's
all I wanted.       Graduation night, there was a party, and my friends
Kip and Dillon were among the celebrants.  I didn't feel like joining in,
though out of courtesy, I stayed for a centar or two.  When I left, I
didn't feel like sleeping, and I wandered aimlessly around the battlestar
that felt suddenly empty.  I didn't pay attention as I walked, and before
long, I found myself in a semi-familiar area of the battlestar; an area
where a captain had brought his son nearly twelve yahrens before, on the
way to a great surprise.
     Acting on instinct, like an avian following an ancestral route it
had only taken once before but remembered as clearly as if it were
yesterday, I made my way to the dome.  The room felt as though it had
been expecting my arrival, and the dusky atmosphere immediately
brightened as I set foot in the dome.  No one was really left who would
use it, especially when both Dad and Starbuck left.  Boomer didn't feel
like it was his right to come here, Sheba was still on her own ship, and
Grandfather never ventured far from where he could easily be found --
something the celestial dome didn't qualify as.
     Making my way into the familiar chair, I settled back before opening
the dome.  Seeing the old familiar glory of the stars being revealed in
front of me, I felt for the first time that I wasn't alone.  Something
like a sixth sense told me that the dome wasn't just holding one person
in its fragile grasp; another person stood there.  Someone familiar and
greatly missed.
     I closed my eyes, remembering the first time I had been here, and
how secure it had been with my father at my side.  I smiled in memory,
seeing the two of us sitting on the deck, with the star field behind each
of us, talking to one another as equals.  I longed for that to happen
this time, too, for Dad to talk to me like we had once before.
     I must have been asleep and dreaming, because I heard Dad's voice
call to me very softly, telling me to come down to the main floor of the
celestial dome.  I obeyed, and settled down on the deck, looking out at
the star field when I realized that there was someone sitting in front of
me, present before me yet not there.  I saw the quiet smile, and the
green eyes, and I knew it was my father.
     Feeling like my heart was going to burst, I found myself talking to
him again, just like I had when I was ten.  Instead of calmly and
rationally, I ended up nearly bursting into tears as I spoke, feeling
everything coming out of me like a torrent.  Pain at his loss and the
loss of most other people who were close to me.  Sorrow at never actually
having the chance to say good-bye, and even anger that he had left.  And
most problematic for me:  not having him at my graduation.
     "Is that why you're so sad?" he asked.  "Is that why you came up
here?"
     I nodded slowly, watching him for his reaction.  Finally, he smiled
warmly at me, and reached out to wipe the tears from my cheeks like he
had when I was little.
     "Boxey," he began, and unlike most other people, I didn't care if he
called me by my childhood name instead of using Troy.  "My son, I've
never been so proud of you than I am right now.  Just because you can't
see me doesn't mean that I'm not there, you know.  Nothing can keep me
away from something as important as this."
     I smiled tentatively at him, and his own smile grew wider.  When he
made sure that I wasn't crying anymore, he reached up to ruffle my hair
affectionately, just like he did when I was a child.
     Strangely enough, I woke up to find myself sitting on the deck of
the celestial dome, and I didn't know if it had been real, or simply
imaginary.  I never questioned it, really, simply accepting it as a way
to have the strength to continue.  Nor did I ever talk about it with
anyone, not even my grandfather, even though he more than anyone else
would understand the dream and its significance.
     And so I took to the habit of coming up to the celestial dome when
something important happened.  It was like airing my inner demons,
talking to the empty air that just might not have been as empty as one
might think.  When we found Earth, after I returned to the _Galactica_
from the ship I was stationed aboard, I came up here to speak to him.  I
told him my worries, about what we'd find.  And then five yahrens later,
when I first met Semiramis aboard the _Galactica_, and how at the first
centon, I knew that she was the woman I was meant to be with.  When we
were sealed, I came up here again before the ceremony, knowing that
although the room looked empty other than me in my blue formal uniform,
he was there, too.
     Now, I've returned again, this time to share with him the latest joy
in my life, as my wife and I prepare for the arrival in a few sectars of
our first child.  There wasn't much disagreement between us as to what to
name our baby.  Both Amis and I had a family member named Serina, though
while she was my mother, Amis' Serina was a beloved cousin.  If it were a
boy, we would name him Apollo, after my father.
     This time, I saw him again, standing before me with that same proud
expression, and whether or not he was just a part of my imagination, I'd
rather not speculate on that.  Instead, as I looked at him, I looked
forward to the day when I would be able to bring my own child up here, to
share it with him or her as my father did with me.  But until that
happened, I still had the dome to myself, and the view of the stars
clearer than any sky on either Caprica or Earth.  And I could still share
it with someone.
     "Come on, Dad," I said, sitting down on the deck, looking at him
with a warm smile of my own.  "Sit down, and let's talk."

The End