Captain Beatrix Gades
Beatrix1.jpg Gades, Beatrix T.
CPT Medical
Station BS-114 Orion
Position Doctor
Age Sex
33 F
Hair Eyes
Auburn Green


It's easy to slip through the cracks when you're one of 6.7 billion people on the most populated planet in the Colonies.

It's even easier when you're poor.

Beatrix Gades was born in the slums of Mangala, on Canceron. There was nothing remotely special about her birth in any way, shape, or form. She wasn't even born in a hospital. She was born in the back of a little two room house that was barely better than a shack. Her mother had neither wanted nor planned to have another child and the general response to her arrival was, "Great. Another mouth to feed."

Of course, that was probably because Beatrix's mother, Diana, had already had three other children by two different men by the time her father came along. They'd already been taken by the state, which was no small feat of acheivement in a place like Mangala. Small miracles, or something like that.

Her parents bond was one forged over a shared love of illicit substances. Her mother was especially fond of a few variations of opium, which was a habit that it proved impossible for her to kick. It made Beatrix largely her father's responsibility who, gods bless him, rose to the occasion as best he could. He cleaned up, got a job, and got his life together — or tried to, anyway. There was only so much that Cadmus could do to take care of his daughter when just about every cubit he brought home got swiped and spent on drugs, when anything they had in the house worth any amount of money got pawned off for cash to feed Diana's habit.

After four years of struggling, he'd had enough. He crammed his clothes and everything Beatrix owned into a bag — yes, just one — and walked off with her in the middle of the night. It's not like it was hard to disappear. It's easy to slip through the crack when you're one of 6.7 billion people on the most populated planet in the Colonies.

Beatrix was always grateful for what her father did for her. There was no question of that. Of course, it didn't mean they understood one another. In fact, it seemed as though Beatrix didn't really understand anyone at all. At least, it seemed that way to everyone else.

The truth was, she understood them all better than they ever knew. Beatrix was a precocious child — quiet, intelligent, observant. She made a silent study of those around her constantly. She could've faked it, being one of them. Maybe she could've fooled them, too. For whatever reason, she never even bothered to try. She turned to her studies and to her books instead, and found a world where she belonged, where she excelled. It really did nothing to help her fit in with her fellow street-rats. A mousy, bookish girl was entirely too easy a target when the poverty and the violence of the slums had hardened everyone around her. It didn't ease her often awkward relationship with her father, either, but at least Cadmus was proud of her acheivements. The problem was, he didn't really see the point. Maybe, being so clever, she could get a job as a shop clerk if she worked hard enough and would just make friends with the right people. It'd be better than breaking her back scrubbing floors or clothes, right? Maybe it'd even pay decent. It wasn't like she was going to go to college after high school. Who was going to pay for that?

The Colonial Fleet was going to pay for that, that's who. Three hots and a cot was plenty of reason to enlist for a lot of desperate kids from Mangala, but Beatrix wanted more than just getting herself off the streets. She wanted to be somebody. She wanted to make something of herself. She signed up for the the ROTC program. Between that and the gold-star she'd earn any university for "diversity", filling the magic demographic of slumdog that wanted to pull herself out of the slums? Beatrix soon found herself at the University of Delphi on Caprica, tuition paid. She was going to owe the Navy half her life, it seemed, but wasn't that worth it for the life she was going to have?

As a young student with a wealth of option in front of her, Beatrix decided to do the one thing that she couldn't do back home — help people like herself. She knew what it meant to feel isolated, alone, helpless. She knew what it meant to watch addiction destroy a family. If someone had been there to hold out a hand, maybe things would've been different. Maybe she would've known more of her mother than hazy memories of a child too young to understand. Maybe she would've had a real family. Maybe she would've felt like she belonged.

Beatrix elected to study psychology and organic chemistry, with some hope of understanding the underlying processes of addiction and the cycle it formed. It was followed by medical school, again paid for by the Colonial Fleet. Again, on Caprica. Again, she excelled. What she didn't understand either intuitively or from her own life experience, she wrapped her mind around by force and application. There was a hunger to her now, one that extended beyond a simple thirst for knowledge. It was though by understanding this than maybe, just maybe, she could understand the path of her own life.

She only ever had two passions that quite equalled it. The first? The theater. There was something so inherently soothing about slipping away into another world, into another identity, if only for an evening. On any night when she couldn't be found in a dark library pouring over books on anatomy and pharmacology, she could be found in a dark theater, drinking in the words and emotions of the figures on the stage. The second was Carter Deima, a young man from a wealthy family who happened to share her first love. They were absolutely wild for one another. They fit together in every possible way, save one.

When she finished medical school, Carter wanted the two of them to get married. She… owed twelve years to the Fleet. It was not something negotiable. Twelve years, or the full cost of her education in a single lump sum to be paid to the Caprican government's educational department. She, of course, didn't have the money. Carter's family did. They were willing to pay off her debt, he said. After all, she was going to be a Deima, he said. His parents didn't begrudge her her past, he said. He didn't understand why she wouldn't take the money, why she had a sudden flash of stubborn pride, why she was willing to leave him over something as trivial as accepting more than a quarter-million cubits and a few phone calls to some officials. He loved her. What difference did owing her entire life to his parents make?

Three weeks later, she was working her residency in the medical bay of a Navy ship. Some called her doctor. Others addressed her as Lieutenant. Carter called her neither. He couldn't accept the choice she had made.

Recent Events

Service Record & Medals

Year Rank Station Notes
1988-1992 ROTC Recruit University of Delphi Undergraduate Student
1992-1996 ENS Caprica University Medical Student
1996-1999 LTJG Battlestar Atlantia (BS-79) Psychiatric Resident
1999-2000 LT Battlestar Atlantia (BS-79) Psychiatric Resident
2000 - 2002 LT CFAB Andross Psychiatrist
2002-2004 LT Battlestar Orion (BS-114) Psychiatrist
2004-Present CPT Battlestar Orion (BS-114) Psychiatrist

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