I don't recall exactly how old this is, but it appeared in an issue of Purple & Orange, which stopped doing BG zines at least a dozen years ago. I don't know if they still even have the old ones available, so it's been a while since it was around. -- Sharon "That Special Day" By Sharon Monroe Medea was nervous The sealing gown fit her slender figure to perfection. The lacy veil suggested a mystery worth revealing. A single re ruby on a golden chain adorned her neck. Her bouquet, on the table near her, was of green gerns and a singe red Aquarian rose. She was an enchanting picture, dark-haired, storm-purple-eyed, slender, silver-robed. In ancient days, they might have called such beauty the result of sorcery set to trap a man. She'd been a socialator, and knew how to show off her charms to their best effect. But she'd left that profession in the ashes of Gemon. For a time she'd been a politician's aide, but found less self-respect in that post than the survivors had given her in her first profession. Now, her time was spent with children rather than men, trying to heal the wounds the Destruction had left in their fragile minds. Today was her sealing day. Medea was marrying a warrior. As eager as she'd been for this day to arrive, she was afraid she would somehow be found lacking, not enough for the man. Although she'd left her first calling behind, and he'd never held it against her, today it haunted her. She wondered how she deserved such a wonderful man. "Will you relax?" Cassiopeia scolded, adjusting the bride's veil slightly. "You look heavenly!" On her other side, Melantha smiled encouragingly. Medea was glad they were here. Cassie had been a close friend for yahrens. Melantha was a squadronmate of the man who'd chosen her. Cassiopeia and Melantha wore pink; they were her bride attendants. "Am I good enough for him?" she asked anxiously. "You're *too* good!" Melantha declared. "At least, that's what Jolly keeps saying! It's enough to make a girl jealous, the way he talks about you!" Medea tried to think herself calmer, and ease her fast breathing. Any centon now, the ceremony would begin, and she would have no way out. The door chimed. "You can't come in!" Cassie called. "Why not? I'm her protector!" "Come in, Apollo!" Medea had no surviving family. Apollo had asked Medea, quite humbly, if he could serve as her protector, and hand her over into his friend's care, as old Caprican tradition still demanded, as outdated as the custom was. Apollo entered with a wide smile. "Everybody's ready. All we need is a bride." With final hugs, Cassie and Mel grabbed their own flowers and slipped out for the procession. Light strains of music wafted into the room. Medea wasn't sure she could walk. Apollo offered his arm. She grabbed it like a life mask in an airless room. He smiled again, shaking his head. "I'm not sure which of you is more nervous." She was still trying to even her breathing. "Am I good enough for him, Captain?" "Medea, my name is Apollo. You're part of the family now. And, yes, you're good enough for him. The first thing we ever heard about you was that you were the woman of his dreams. He's been floating around the ready room ever since, and he hasn't looked at anybody else." "That wasn't so long ago. Maybe we should have waited a while?" She looked unsteadily into his reassuring eyes. "What does your heart tell you?" he asked softly. "Could you bear to be without him?" She knew Apollo had been left without his heartmate after too brief a time. If ever he didn't come back... The music was suddenly the Procession March. "Are you ready?" "Oh, yes!" she said fervently. They reached the decorated, brightly-lit room. Ahead of them, Cassiopeia reached Starbuck, and they stepped aside. Melantha and Boomer were just approaching each other. Jolly stood next to Boomer, strong and tall in dress uniform. Adama stood at the front of the room, his expression a solemn reminder of the formality of the occasion, occasionally breaking into a smile of paternal fondness as he watched them approach. All around them, a mixture of warriors and civilians hushed in their seats. Jolly's eyes found Medea the micron she entered the room. Now, as she approached with Captain Apollo, their eyes locked together in love, sharing overflowing hearts and emotions, bound more closely than any mere ceremony could make them. Neither felt any doubts or nervousness. "Who gives this woman?" "I do." Apollo lifted her hand into Jolly's, then stepped aside. Electricity sparked through them. Medea and Jolly never heard the first words the commander spoke. Their feelings threatened to spill from their hearts and eyes, to sing and cry their love for everyone in the room to hear and see. Both stood proud, needing only each other to make life worth living. "This is the most sacred union for a man and a woman, blessed by the Lords of Kobol--" Their union was complete; they felt as one. Red alert! The klaxons screamed an enemy presence, completely disrupting the solemnity of the room, sending men and women scrambling for duty posts or safer quarters. Medea and Jolly felt a wrenching tear as the mood was broken, and knew that duty had interfered with their joy. Their hands clasped tightly, painfully together. Medea felt a tear on her cheek, stinging. Jolly felt an unreasoning hatred of whatever was out there, then forgot it in his beloved's sob. The other warriors and tech crews had dashed out. Only the commander still waited, halfway to the door to return to the bridge. "Jolly, do you hear the alert? I'm sorry, but-" "Commander, witness us." His eyes never left hers. Adama stepped closer again, understanding their need and fear. "I will witness your joining before the Lords of Kobol." "Medea, you are my wife. For now, forever. I love you." "Jolly, you are my husband. Forever. I love you." "I witness this union, for the Lords and all the people. You are sealed." Adama's voice was solemn, but hurried. "Come back to me, Jolly." "Always." Then both men were gone, and a new wife sank to the floor of an empty room, sobbing her fears into the silence. "Lords, bring him back to me." * * * * And still the Cylons came after them, never truly permitting the survivors of the Colonies to vanish in exile among the stars. They might vanish for a time, but they always returned, to attack again and again, to destroy and kill, and leave the mourners behind with their fears and pains and hates. Today was the same. The Cylons struck rapidly, but the warriors and their Vipers held them back from the fleet, although the Galactica herself was forced to move into the battle, and sustained some minor damage. Jolly struck furiously against the Cylons, attacking ship after ship, sending the Raiders to whatever hell the Cylons had. Today, he couldn't be as cool and careful as he usually was. Today, he couldn't help being angry and wild. They had torn him from her side, today of all days. They had dared to destroy happiness along with life and security. "Jolly! Look out! Pinwheel!" Boomer's voice cut urgently into his bitterness. Trapped! Cylon fire cut very near his ship. He tried to spin away. Boomer and Melantha streaked desperately through space to try and reach him. * * * * A woman prayed for her husband's safety, tried to think where he might be, willed herself to be there where he could think of her and know he had to survive. He had to come back, he had to. * * * * An opening! The Lords were generous today! Jolly fired, then rammed forward, following his own laser burst. He slipped between two Cylons, through the dissipating wreckage of another. With rapid spins and banking maneuvers, he brought his nose to face the enemy. They weren't getting any free shots at his tail! Another Cylon disintegrated. Then Boomer's and Melantha's fire cut the remaining Cylon ships to ribbons of metal. "Watch it, Jolly, you know Tigh's been complaining that we lose too many ships!" Melantha called with a weak attempt at a joke. "I've got my head clearer now. Thanks, both of you," he responded. The rest of the battle was brief. Jolly's anger had faded with the failure of the pinwheel attack. * * * * Back aboard the Galactica, everyone felt relieved that another attack had been turned back. Most of the Raiders had been destroyed; the rest had turned away and vanished as quickly as they had come. Boomer patted Jolly on the back. "Don't worry, buddy. We'll get you sealed off right yet!" "Yeah! You don't get off this easy," Starbuck declared. "Even if it *does* mean dress uniforms again!" "I may get to like being a protector, if you make me do it so often," was Apollo's contribution. "Not with my wife, you don't." The four men hastened back to the ceremony room, past repair crews and various other personnel. Melantha, still with her pink gown giving odd bulges to her pressure suit, was on her way to life center to have a burn tended to. The room was a shambles. The battlestar had taken a hit near this area. No one had realized, however, that this room had taken damage. A beam had fallen from the ceiling. The ceremonial table at the front of the chamber lay shattered. Chairs were upended. The gauze curtains had fallen and lay around the room, some torn. One was half-burned where candles had fallen; the rest was soaked with chemicals from the fire-control systems. "Medea?" Jolly called, staring wildly about at the mess, then running for the altar. "She probably left," Starbuck tried to reassure him while Boomer and Apollo picked different sections of the wreckage to search. "No, she wouldn't have. She'd have been at the landing bay waiting for me." They found her. Medea lay between the viewport and the pieces of the broken table. One of the torn curtains lay over her like a shroud. She was still, eyes closed. Blood stained curtain, gown, veil, hair, and face. "Medea!" Jolly choked. Apollo caught his breath. Not like this. Not today. He pulled off the curtain to check for life signs, while Boomer and Starbuck tried to hold Jolly back long enough to find out- Her eyes opened slowly. She smiled, and reached for Jolly with one arm. Nothing could keep him from her. Starbuck and Boomer both went flying as he shook them off and threw himself down beside her, scooping into his arms. "You came back. I knew you'd hear me. I waited." She sighed, leaned against his broad chest, and lost consciousness again. Jolly carried her to life center, the others tagging behind. The memory of Serina hung over them all. * * * * Jolly was not to be left as Apollo had been. Medea would survive. She had a concussion and broken bones, many bruises and scratches, but Cassiopeia had assured them before hurrying to another patient, she could be released from life center in a few days. "We'll have to plan this all over again," Boomer complained, as worry turned into relief, which turned into a need to lighten the mood. "Dress uniforms. Ugh!" said Starbuck. "No, you won't," Jolly replied, smiling happily and holding his sleeping wife's hand. "Aren't you getting sealed?" Apollo asked, astonished. "Not again, Skipper. I couldn't take another day like this." "Huh?" "I witnessed them those last centons before the attack." Commander Adama joined them. He was touring life center, offering encouragement to wounded warriors. "You boys missed the whole thing." "How could you do this to us!" Starbuck looked properly offended, trying to keep a straight face. "Without her protector, yet!" Apollo said, with mock severity. "Is that legitimate?" "We knew what we needed. I wouldn't have gotten through it without you," Jolly said, his voice dropping softly. He was speaking to her, forgetting the others. "I think we could manage to give you a leave of absence, Jolly. For a few days, at least," Commander Adama said, wondering if Jolly even heard them. Then he gestured at the other warriors to come away and leave the couple alone. He met Apollo's eyes. The young man nodded back silently. Father and son both knew the loss when the right woman wasn't there to share life. They walked away together. Starbuck looked at Boomer, then finally said, "Well, I think it's a hades of a way to spend a honeymoon!" - The End -