Kalypso’s Sketchbook-Journal - I

Kalypso's Journals

Memoir Written After Log: Worth Four Psychologists
And Before Log: Small Blessings

Kalypso Leto, 57 ACH

I’ve worn this cold mask so long now that sometimes I wonder who I really am any more. There’s an interesting way to start a journal entry, but it’s true. The outward me tries to act like she knows so much, can do anything, be anything, but inside I think I’m barely holding it together. A year ago my world changed. Fifty-seven days ago everyone’s world ended. About thirty days ago I heard the bad news when the Hera found a broken fleet of ships stripped by the Battlestar Pegasus. Five days ago, the Battlestar Genesis came to our rescue. Three days ago I joined her crew to get back on the pilot’s path. Two days ago I went on my first mission.

I’ve been a wreck inside ever since. My performance was fine, I suppose. I did well at keeping the Raptor steady, at least until the micrometeor shower hit. I got Tempo and her Viper back to the barn safely and left some nice dents on the Deck from my landing. I don’t know what I’m doing. Would I be any better at this if things had worked out like they were supposed to? I don’t know. I’d probably be as frakked up as all of Gold Wing seems to be. Maybe I am anyway. Probably all of us are.

Yesterday I just went down to the Hangar and stared at the ships.

Today? All of it came home. Memories all flooded back, because I was trying to bridge some imagined gap between myself and Gold Wing. Took some of the scotch I’d brought over with me from the Hera as a peace offering… and then something Scala said, as I was leaving. Gods, it’s just winding through my head on repeat. It was the last thing he said to me when I left Caprica.


Year 1 - BCH
Artist’s Loft Apartment, Caprica

“What in the name of Hades are you doing, Kaly?” the bewildered voice of Dion Gaelan asked from the apartment’s doorway.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Kalypso’s terse voice snapped back. She shoved more shirts into the open suitcase laying on the bed. She didn’t even look at the handsome young man in the doorway, but she could feel his eyes on her. She jerked open another drawer and grabbed another handful of her clothes.

“Hey,” the man in the doorway said, moving forward into the apartment quickly. The door shut behind him “Hey!” He grabbed some of the clothes back out of the suitcase the second she tossed them in and stood there staring at her. He dropped the clothes on the floor and grabbed her wrist.

The blonde woman met his eyes then and brushed some of her hair out of her flushed face. It was easy to see the anger in her features, frustration, and annoyance at him for getting in her way. She lowered those flashing mis-matched eyes to the paint-stained hand gripping her wrist.

“What’s going on?” the man’s voice was gentle and that just set her more on edge.

Kalypso jerked her wrist free. “I’m packing. I’m leaving. Isn’t it obvious?” Her tone was like acid. She moved past him to start picking up the scattered clothes on the floor.

Dion’s eyebrows shot up, puzzlement obvious on his features. “I thought you didn’t leave for your assignment for another week…”

“Yeah, well, I’m not getting an assignment,” the woman snapped. She shoved the clothes back in the bag. Hastily turning her back to him she went to her side of the bed to grab her small artbox and a trio of leather-bound sketchbooks. Those too went into the suitcase before she strode towards the bathroom area to grab her toiletries.

“Not getting an… woah, woah… slow down, okay!” Dion said, moving into her way again.

Kalypso attempted to push past him and ended up just glaring as he continued to block her path. She ground her teeth together. “Dion. Move.”

He shook his head, taking hold of her arms. “Not until you tell me what the hell is going on. Why are you packing? What do you mean you aren’t getting an assignment? You graduated towards the top of your class.”

“Phelix Leto,” her father’s name curled off of her tongue like a curse.

Dion blinked, releasing her when she jerked away this time and followed her to the bathroom. He stood staring as she starting shoving her necessities into a small toiletries bag. “Kaly, what does your father have to do wit—“

“EVERYTHING!” she exploded, turning on her heal to glare at him. “He has everything to do with it. I don’t have a commission to go to now. He called in favors with everyone your family introduced him to until he got what he wanted.” The woman zipped the bag and stomped back towards the bedroom. “He controls my life. He’ll ALWAYS control my life…”

“Then we’ll get married!” Dion said suddenly, hurrying after her.

“How the frak is us getting married going to solve anything?” Kalypso demanded. She threw the little bag on top of everything inside the larger and proceeded to try to shove the top closed so that she could secure it. It was too full. More frustration flooded her and she pounded her fist against the top of the bag. “Close damnit.”

He took hold of her shoulders from behind, hands resting gently there. “We talked about it, you know, about maybe after you got back from your first leave. Well, we’ll just do it now instead of later. We’ll… we’ll get married. We’ll elope, run off to one of the other colonies…” Dion said, pale blue eyes gazing into her face intently, trying to catch her eyes, “We’ll start over, start a new life together.”

“GODS,” Kalypso said, angrily spinning in his grip so she could face him, “He would find us… find me. It would never work. Even if it would I’m not getting married. I still wouldn’t be able to fly. You think I want to be some frakking housewife to a starving artist on Aerelon? Be completely frakking miserable so that you could be happy?”

“Kaly… Kaly, hey, you’re giving up without a fight,” Dion rubbed her arms, his expression reminded Kalypso of a puppy trying to please its master, his eyes just as large and soul searching. “We could figure that out too. Get your commission straightened out after we get married. My family knows people too and—“

She shoved him then. It was sudden, abrupt and both hands struck against his chest with a force that knocked him backwards a step. “ Your family and their contacts are the reason this is happening! Just leave it alone Dion. Just frakking leave it alone. Leave me alone. I’m done. We’re done . I sure as frak don’t want to marry you. I hate you.”

He stood there. Silent and staring at her, blinking owlishly. Dion opened his mouth, closed it again. When he spoke the words were soft, carrying hurt in them, “You don’t mean that…”

Ignoing him, she triumphantly closed the suitcase and drug it to the floor. It hit with a thump. Her expression was blank. A hard mask she had learned to wear to hide her emotions during Basic and at the Academy. Now, she was using it as a crutch. It was a cold contrast to the expression on her lover’s face. He stilled looked like a puppy, only now it was a wounded one, one that she had kicked with steel-toed boots. “I do.”

Kalypso pulled at the handle of her suitcase and started wheeling it after her towards the apartment door. There would be a vehicle waiting for her downstairs. Her father was nothing if not prompt when he was destroying lives.

“Do you always bail so quick, Leto?” Dion asked, managing to find his voice again. He was still standing across the loft, in front of the bed. It was a line he’d delivered to her more than once during their relationship. The first time had been when they were kids playing a game against a team she was sure they were going to lose to. She’d threatened to quit, but the phrase from the cherub-faced boy had put steel back in her spine. Their team still lost, but not without a fight. That simple phrase was one that usually brought her back to her senses when times were rocky and she was on an emotional roller coaster.

Kalypso didn’t look back. She couldn’t bear to see the look on his face again. She knew it would break her and that then it would only hurt more when her father dragged her away kicking and screaming. She told herself this was self-preservation. She put her hand on the door. “This time… yes.”

The door clicked behind her, leaving Dion Gaelan to stand alone in the empty apartment.


He was right. I didn't mean it. I was taking it out on him because he was a convenient target… someone to lash out at because I was mad. I need to go to the Chapel. Maybe, just maybe I can find some peace there.

I have to hold it together. I don’t have any other choice.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License