Alternate Obsession
by Sharon Monroe


It had been sectars of exhausting work, demanding every bit
of energy and concentration he could give it.  He was
satisfied his theories were correct; what he had created
would function, and as expected.

And yet, the night before the -Starwind-'s maiden voyage,
Doctor Ravashol sat on the bridge of the small starcraft,
going through computer banks, double-checking his own
equations, looking over the blueprints, rescanning
experimental data, all for the last time.  If he had
miscalculated, made an error anywhere along the line of
research and development, he would pay the price as well as
the hand-picked young crew, for the aging scientist was
accompanying them.  Akilles had protested, but it had been
part of the agreement from the beginning; Ravashol would be
part of the culmination of his life's work.

A small hand placed a heavy mug at his elbow.  "Father-
Creator?"

He barely glanced at the petite blonde Theta - small-boned,
short-haired, blue-eyed; another of his creations, cloned
and perfected during his period on Arcta.  A number on the
tan overalls identified the series and culture of the
female.

"What is it, Tenna-Fourteen?"

"Will you be here all night, Father-Creator?"  She spoke
softly, with the reverence all the Thetas expressed for the
human who'd brought them into existence.

"Just a little while longer, Tenna.  Go to your rest.  I'll
be all right.
Oh, but have the Ser-Fives check over the gamma-delt
feedlines one more time, especially the twenty-alpha-four
seals and circuits."

"Yes, Father-Creator."  The small blonde padded silently to
the lift and disappeared.

"You don't trust the work of your own Planners, drawn from
your own ideas and overseen by you every step of the way?"

Ravashol smiled at the young Warrior who addressed him so
archly.  A dark-haired, handsome youth, Major Akilles was
the oldest son of Ila of the Council of Twelve, formerly its
president, and Commander Adama of the -Galactus-, whose
quick thought and actions had saved the Twelve Colonies at
the False Peace almost two yahrens before.

Akilles had played his own role in saving the Colonies,
through his part in the undiscovered conspiracy and in
battle at Kobol.  Some of the shadow-scars burning in the
Warrior's eyes were from that time; others were from what
they were attempting now.

"Do you miss anything, Akilles?  I begin to think it's true
what your pilots say, that you never sleep."

The major smiled.  "I just don't get caught napping."

Ravashol had to laugh.  "But what brings you here the night
before our first experimental flight?  You should be
sleeping before the voyage."

He shrugged, glancing around the cramped quarters of the -
Starwind-'s bridge.  "One last look, same as you.  We'll be
trusting our lives to this lady.  She has to be right."

"She is."

"Will she take us where we want to go?"

"Across time and space, to follow the dream or vision or
will-o'-the-sisp that's obsessed you since your brother's
death at the memorial."

Akilles's smile faded.  "Apollo....  Is it possible to miss
someone after two yahrens?"

Ravashol's expression was equally pensive.  "It is.  Eos is
still much in my thoughts...."

"Who?"

"The woman who contributed her cells to the cloning
experiments.  She is dead several yahrens ... but she lives
on, in the Tennas."

The Warrior nodded.  "As Apollo lives on in his daughter.
There are times I think she means more to my parents than
the rest of us together - Athena, Ares, Artemis, her mother,
the boy...."

Ravashol stepped off the command dais and rested his hand on
Akilles's shoulder for a micron.  "It only seems that way
because Korona is still just a baby, and is adored as babies
are.  You matter to them, you always will."

"I know.  It's hard being jealous of a baby - you feel like
some kind of equinus' astrum."

Ravashol's laughter was rich and contagious.  "Indeed.
Well, a grandchild to fawn over has kept your canny father
and powerful mother from investigating what kind of research
I have been doing, and your exact involvement in it."

"Just like at the False Peace.  They had too many other
things on their minds, the safety of the Colonies to
consider.  Now they're busy with its rebuilding.  And I'm
running away...."

Ravashol held his tongue on that subject.  "I'm going to
Engineering to check out a few things.  You may want to stop
in the bay, give the tubes and our escort Vipers a few last
checks.  You've only looked them over a dozen times today.
Something might have changed in the last centon."

"How'd you know where I came from?"

Ravashol laughed again; then the man left the bridge, and
Akilles was alone to think and relive the events that had
set him on his current course, taking the scientist and
others with him.

They had all suffered keenly at Apollo's murder.  Ila had
never really recovered from seeing her middle son shot down
before her eyes; it was as though a portion of Adama's soul
had been slain as well.  The younger siblings had drifted
for a while, then recovered.  Of them all, only Akilles and
Ostara knew what had really happened - and Starbuck, of
course.

Then later, Dr. Ravashol.

When Akilles cautiously approached him with his ideas, he
had been suspicious, and demanded an explanation.  With all
the rebuilding in the Colonies after the False Peace, there
had been few funds to spare for such experimentation, but
Ravashol's name alone was good for billions of cubits on
every Colony, and it had taken nearly all of them to reach
this far.

It had not been an easy explanation to make; Ravashol had
been incredulous, as Akilles could understand.  It still
sounded insane.

Three men had come from a far universe, an alternate
dimension.  And they had saved the Colonies from
extermination.

The consciousness of that other Apollo had occupied the body
of Akilles's brother at the moment that young Warrior should
have died.  He had remained to give warning that the Cylon
peace offer was false and to begin the plot that had
resulted in the Colonies surviving that treachery.

For some reason, Akilles had believed the stranger, and
become part of the conspiracy, bringing in his own commander
and calling in every favor he'd accumulated in yahrens in
the Service.  They'd infiltrated the Colonial defense
computer network.  They'd made sure some ships in the fleet
were prepared for the Cylon attack.  They'd intercepted
messages and prevented sabotage in major cities and
installations across the Colonies.  The Cylon attack had
been blunted; they had won enough time to rally their people
and to drive off the enemy.

The other Apollo had married a woman of their universe,
Ostara, one of the conspirators - not entirely willingly, as
Akilles knew, but the union had settled to become something
stronger, with potential.  At any rate, it had lasted long
enough for Ostara to become pregnant.  Korona, the darling
of her grandparents' eyes, was the result.  Apollo's murder
by Charon had ended all the potentials in the marriage and
possibly sent the man home.  Akilles wasn't certain.  He
knew, however, what he'd felt at seeing his brother shot
down and bleeding ... dying.

Lieutenant Starbuck knew, too, both of him.  Another
Starbuck had come from the other reality, a man who was
Apollo's friend, who'd stood by him...

It had been so different here.  Starbuck had been an orphan,
from a lower caste family, who'd succeeded as a Warrior by
chance, as a client of Baltar, a nobleman of wealth and
standing.  The blond Warrior had been believed responsible
for treason and for the death of another friend of Apollo's
- Boomer, a Warrior who died in an accident, an equipment
malfunction.  Never highly favored by anyone in Adama's
family, he'd transferred from the -Galactus- to the -Pegasus-
, Kain's command, to serve under Flight Commander Akilles,
who'd not had time for the man either, until....

Until the other Starbuck came, taking his place in the
consciousness of a comatose Warrior, Ostara, injured in
combat.  He/she had worked with Apollo to save the Colonies,
until Starrie, as she was called, regained control of her
mind and began plotting on her own.  She had black-mailed
Apollo, demanding marriage as the price for her silence and
cooperation.  And Apollo had no choice but to acquiesce.

Their Starbuck had been accused of treason, of selling out
to the Cylons.
In reality, it had been Count Baltar and his agents who were
guilty of treason.  Starbuck had been freed with Apollo's
help.  His first meeting with Ostara had resulted in the
consciousness of the other Starbuck transferring to his body
in a bit of confusion that still mystified everyone but
Ravashol, who seemed to have worked the matter out to his
own satisfaction.

The other Starbuck had left, to return home or to perish,
after the salvation of the Colonies and the murder of
Apollo.  Strangely, some of his memories still hid in
Starrie's and their Starbuck's minds, surfacing at odd
times.

Akilles wondered at times what had made him offer Starbuck
the hand of friendship - the man was egotistical, stubborn,
a gambler, a dozen things that the patrician Warrior loathed
or didn't understand.  But somehow, after Apollo's death,
all that had become unimportant.  What mattered was keeping
Starbuck near him, as a friend, on the -Pegasus-.

He shook his head.  He didn't understand the intuition that
had provoked the decision.  But it had been the right one.
Starbuck had saved his life on more than one occasion, and
his loyalty was something the major now knew he could count
on in any situation.  Though Starbuck might seem
irresponsible and flighty, the knowledge that someone
willingly depended on him brought forth an astonishing
degree of allegiance.

And there had been Boomer, dead in their universe, alive in
the other.  He had come in his own body, and left with it
intact.

That was what convinced Akilles that physical travel between
the two realities was possible.  That was what sent him back
to Ravashol to discuss old theories.  That was what brought
Ravashol into this second conspiracy.

And that was why he was standing on the empty bridge
tonight.

Only a few hand-picked security personnel were on guard
duty, along with a number of the doctor's Theta-class
Tennas, Ser-Fives, and Planners.

The crew had been equally hand-picked, carefully selected,
though Dr. Ravashol's importance and Akilles's connections
through mother, father, and commander.  Ravashol and his
associate Dr. Willis led the scientific side of the team, in
the -Starwind-'s ostensible purposes of experimentation with
a new drive and minor exploration.  An additional military
purpose was to check on renewed Cylon infiltration of the
sector.  Major Akilles was in charge of the Warrior escort,
including Lieutenant Starbuck, Captain Artemis, Lieutenant
Ares, Lieutenant Ostara and others.  Captain Omega, a former
classmate of Apollo's and a member of the conspiracy, had
been responsible for choosing an appropriate bridge crew.
Most of the rest of the crew were Theta-
class life forms, Ravashol's clones.

The greatest difficulty had been choosing a commander for
the mission.
Under the circumstances, it had to be someone they could
trust implicitly with their information and goals.  Akilles
had tried to wangle the proper commission himself, but his
youth had told against him - the authorities, his parents
included, didn't see it as proper to place him in command of
a valuable experimental craft - even if privately financed
and built.

They had, however, seen it as fit and proper to promote
Colonel Tigh to commander, and to offer him the ship.
Akilles had urged him to accept it; after consideration,
Tigh had done so.  The ship and the mission were his.

Some time soon, he would have to explain to his old friend
and mentor what was really entailed in this expedition.  He
hoped Tigh would understand what they were doing and why.
The man had been as much a guide to Apollo as he had to
Akilles, but such a mission, and the rationale behind it....
To have to mutiny against a man he so highly respected would
hurt; it would also make a poor beginning to the mission.
Not that there was any doubt about the success of a mutiny -
the carefully chosen crew and Ravashol's Thetas would make
it easy to take control of the -Starwind- if it proved
necessary.

There was no way any of them would harm Colonel ... no,
_Commander_ Tigh.
Assuming they returned, he could make any report he chose;
Akilles and the rest of the conspirators had sworn to
acknowledge responsibility and accept punishment if Tigh
denounced them.

Akilles knew his parents and his people might never forgive
him for mutiny.
The standard punishment had always been incarceration, but
termination had been assigned in several cases since the
False Peace.

He would much prefer Tigh to be part of this.

*Tomorrow we try to cross the barriers of time and reality.
Lords of Kobol, I must be insane.  Why do I have to find out
if Apollo made it back?  He wasn't my brother, not really.
Why do I have to know?*

Shaking his head, he left the bridge.

                           * * * * *

Her lullaby faded into the night.  The room was gently
still.  In the dim light, Ostara peered into the child's
bed.  Korona was asleep, tousled dark hair lying in wisps
over her pillow, eyes closed, breathing steadily.  One hand
clutched the stuffed toy daggit to her green sleepgown; the
other was twined in the blanket.

She slept so easily, this little girl who was the image of
her father.

Smiling with infinite fondness, Ostara kissed the baby's
head and touched her cheek.  Korona stirred a little, but
sighed and drifted into a deeper sleep.

Leaning over her daughter, she heard a soft purr, and
realized Troy's bast had crept into the room again.  She
found the furry creature nestled between the pillow and the
wall, and scooped it up.  It kneaded sharp claws into her
palm and hissed once, but knew it didn't belong in the
baby's room, and accepted removal.

She stepped back into the hall and closed the door.

"Scoot, Kohl."  She dropped the black bast and watched with
a smile as it streaked away down the hall, long fluffy tail
nearly straight out behind him.  At least the daggit
appeared to be minding its manners at the moment - Muffey
wasn't chasing Kohl through the halls at bedtime this
evening!  She'd have to mention to Troy that he keep a
better eye on his pets.

That took some of the pleasure from her smile.  She would be
gone in the morning, and he was already prepared for bed.
She wouldn't see him again before the voyage.  Who knew how
long she would be away from her children?
Or even if she would return from this experimental cruise?

At least she knew Troy and Korona would be in the best of
hands.  Adama and Ila loved their grandchildren, by adoption
and by blood, with a fierceness only strengthened by the
death of the children's father.

Their father.  Her husband.  A man she'd never had time to
know.  Starrie forced away the memory of him lying in the
grass, blood running from that dreadful wound in his chest,
no comfort in the assassin's body sprawled at his feet.  The
surge of hatred and grief was replaced by the hollowness,
the ache....

She hadn't intended to fall in love with Apollo.  He had
been a tool, the way to a better life.  But he had become so
much more to her.  And had left her with so much less.

It was his coming that had brought the Other, too, with his
memories of another world, another life.  The Other had used
her mind and body, for a time, until she woke and regained
control.  She wondered if that Starbuck had survived, if he
had made it back to his own place, when Apollo was cold and
gone...

*No!  He had a chance.  Starbuck says they made it, that he
felt the Other slipping away, that it happened before Apollo
died.  He had a chance.*

Determined not even to consider any other possibility, she
strode along the dim hall, a fair-haired shadow.  She had to
say good bye to her husband's parents, too, and then report
to the -Starwind- for the last night planetside.

Starrie heard voices chattering, and realized the commander
was telling Troy a bedtime story.  She slowed and almost
stepped in to join them, but prevented herself.  She'd
already told the boy good night, and how much she loved him,
and that he should behave while she was gone, and  obey his
grandparents.  It was what she told him every time.  She was
gone so often with her military assignments that Troy and
Korona almost were closer to Adama and Ila than to their own
mother.  She didn't interfere between grandfather and
grandson.

Instead, she descended to the lower level and joined her
mother-in-law in the solarium.  Councilor Ila looked up from
her work at Ostara's entrance.

"Korie's asleep, but I think Troy is taking advantage of the
Commander again," she reported as if to a superior officer.
"Their bedtime stories always seem to spin on for a centar
or longer."

Ila's smile lit up her face.  "Adama loves spending time
with the boy.  And with reconstruction likely to continue
for the rest of our lives, why deprive him of such a simple
pleasure?"

"Why indeed?" she agreed.  "It's good to have Troy and Korie
feel so comfortable here.  They need a sturdy foundation.
Warriors aren't the most stable parents...."

"You can't always be here, and sometimes you die."  Ila
spoke matter-of-factly.  "You don't have to mince words
around me, child.  I've spent too many yahrens as Adama's
wife and had too many friends in the Military, not to be
aware of the reality."

She stacked the reports and set them aside on her bench.
"Are you worried about them because you're leaving
tomorrow?"

Starrie shrugged a little.  "I suppose that's it."  She
didn't accept the unspoken invitation to join Ila on the
marble seat.  After two yahrens, she still didn't feel
entirely comfortable in this woman's presence.  For too many
yahrens, Ila had been a councilor and then the president of
the Quorum of Twelve; now she was a councilor again, and
still a major political force in the Colonies.  Her natural
aura of power and superiority made it difficult for Ostara
to approach her, much less to confide in her.

When Ostara showed no sign of sitting down, Ila rose to join
her at the massive window overlooking Caprica City.  They
stared down at the vision of city lights curling around the
moonlit bay.  Only a few last curtains of sunset hung far to
the west; everything else was darkening around the city.
It was as serene as if nothing had ever been destroyed
there, as if the deadly attack two yahrens before was only a
bad dream.

Then Ila looked up, scanning the starry heavens.  She
focused on a spot of brightness, something that moved too
fast to be a star, that steadfastly orbited their world.

"The -Galactus-," she murmured.  "No more long patrols now.
The battlestars circle our worlds and hold our system in a
tight web.  We won't be that vulnerable and open ever
again."

"Won't we?" Ostara asked softly.  "In another two hundred
yahrens, when we're tired of war again?  When our children
have only dim memories of the attack, and their children
remember only frightening nighttales?  When the Cylons are
strong again, and our arrogance convinces us we can live
with them, we can believe them, this time they mean it?
Humans forget...."

"Never again."  Ila's voice was ice-tempered steel.  "Never
again."

They were silence moments more.

"Adama's furlon lasts a secton more, then he'll have to
report back to that light...."  Ila's voice was far away.
The commander of that battlestar had been free, technically,
to spend his time on Caprica or wherever he chose, without
accounting to anybody or being available.  Instead, as had
surprised no one, he had spent his time with his family, in
their home, visiting his ship every other day.  At least he
had been home nights.  There were so many times she had said
good bye to him, and the days had turned into eternal
sectars before she saw him again.  He would never be gone
for such an extended time again.  She wasn't sure if that
was a blessing or not.

"All those yahrens....  He sees her as his lady.  I've so
often thought of her as the rival in our yahrens together.
I've looked forward to the day he would come home to me from
her, leave her for good.  But if he had, would we have
survived?  And now, he'll never retire.  But he'll never
really leave again either.  He knows, they all do, where
their homes are.  They know they have to be here to protect
us.  Have I won, or not, at the end...?" she mused further.

"You have him here.  Even if you have to share him, you've
won, you've got something of him, his presence and his time
and his love."  Ostara couldn't help the bitterness in her
voice.

Ila touched her hand.  "Child, you are ours as well.  Don't
let old grief overwhelm you.  Come home safely."

"And bring good news?"  She tried to be light.

"I'm tired of war, Starrie, but afraid of the alternative.
Now, I will be satisfied if my children come home."  She
heard the gentle yearning and sorrow, and turned to see
tears on the older woman's cheeks.

Her throat choked.  Her own parents hadn't survived.
"Mother," she whispered to this woman for the first and only
time, clutching her spontaneously.

"Starrie...."  Ila embraced her in return.

"I'll bring good news," she vowed quietly.  If they could
find Apollo in that other universe, that other reality, it
would be the best news.  "And I have to go now.  Tell the
Commander ... Father....  I'll be back.  I love you ... take
care of the children, take care of yourselves....  I'll see
you soon...."

She blundered away, fleeing the freshness of the solarium,
running down the quiet halls, finding the door through
tears.  Her duffels of necessary gear had been onloaded a
day before.  She had only to reach the ship.  Across the
lawn, through the gate.  The night was clear, the air still
and full of spring.

At the road, she stopped long enough to catch her breath.
For now, the mad dash was exhilarating.  It felt as though
she'd managed to lose her grief and fear in the house,
looming behind her on the hill.  If she stayed here, or
slowed down, or waited for a carrier, they might catch up to
her.  Maybe if she raced to exhaustion, she would be able to
sleep tonight.

She ran all the way to the spacedrome.

                           * * * * *
X-UIDL: $&X"!7mm!!J_1!!!dI"!

Starbuck stared out the port of the spacedrome billets.
Across the field was the -Starwind-, waiting for her
morning's launch.  A rendezvous with the -Galactus- in
orbit, and then out of the system.  Once in free space, an
ultimatum to Commander Tigh - accept a new mission, or face
a mutiny.  And then the crucial test.  If Ravashol's
theories worked, they would be able to cross dimensions
somehow.  And they would search those dimensions for one man
in particular, the one called Apollo.

It was madness.  It was obsession.  But Akilles and Ostara
were both determined.  And Ravashol and Willis were so
fanatically certain their theories were correct that the
others couldn't be held back.

And he was the key they counted on.  Somehow, that other
Starbuck had left an alien imprint on his mind from the time
they had been one.  There were times he ... sensed things,
feelings and thoughts that weren't his, sometimes about
events that hadn't happened, or people he hadn't met, had
never known.  He knew there were memories in his mind from
that stranger, from a life he'd never lived.

But there were other thoughts as well....  Akilles was
certain he was somehow still linked to that other Starbuck,
that the Other was safely alive in his universe, and could
be traced through the inexplicable bond to him.

And through Starbuck, to Apollo.

Somehow he knew the other Apollo was alive.  But that wasn't
enough for the man's wife and brother.  They had to see him,
had to see his world, and know for themselves.

"I didn't ask for this," he muttered.

He hadn't asked for any of it.  He hadn't asked the
strangers to come to his reality.  He hadn't asked to be
accused of treason by High Command and cleared by the
strangers.  He hadn't asked to share consciousness with that
other self.  He hadn't asked for the link between them to
remain when the Other left.  He hadn't asked Akilles for
friendship in honor of the roles they'd played in conspiracy
and the relationships of a stranger.  He hadn't asked to see
Apollo die, or to be the instrument of avenging that murder.

*Blood.  And you left, and I was alone in the middle of
nothing.*  Starbuck closed his eyes and leaned against the
wall, feeling exhausted and very unhappy.

He wasn't at all certain of the rightness of what they were
doing - not that Akilles had given him any chance to voice
his objections.  Usually, he wanted the lingering sense of
another man to go _away_ and leave him alone to live his own
life.  He didn't understand the ccasional fascination that
kept drawing him back to this madness.  Was he as obsessed
as the others, as needful of knowing?  Did the stranger
beckon from across whatever distances they would have to
travel?  Or was it a simpler fear of losing a friendship he
now depended on, if he tried to express his feelings?

Akilles's friendship wasn't easy to possess.  The man was
egotistical, vain and arrogant, too self-assured, born into
and at ease with a world in which Starbuck could never hope
to be accepted.  When he was angry or wanted something, he
could probe for a man's weak spot and attack the jugular
like a ferocious predator, showing no mercy, leaving no
shreds of dignity or self-respect.  He expected obedience
and absolute loyalty and frequently took them for granted.
It was what he'd grown up with, what he expected from life -
to be a leader in a society that expected him to lead.

And because society expected so much of him, he demanded
much in return, but had a very cynical attitude toward that
society.  People and position were coldly measured against
his own abilities and desires; what they wanted was balanced
against what he could give and take.

Starbuck knew he wasn't the easiest man to call friend
either.  From the vantage point of the Other, he could step
outside himself and see who and what he was.  He was
stubborn and defensive, and tried to cover insecurity with
bravado.  He appreciated the material pleasures of life,
probably because he hadn't experienced many of them while
growing up.  He enjoyed gambling, partying, and the physical
pleasures of love - they gave him a sense of worth, of
control, of importance, however fleeting.  It narrowed the
outside world and its culture to small, manageable pieces.
There was always a delight in winning that could make the
past unimportant, for a few centons.

Each of the Warriors knew the other's weaknesses and
strengths by now.

Akilles was obsessed with his brother's memory, and the
cosmic significance of the others' very presence in their
world; he was also touchy about suggestions that his
position came from his parents' power - he knew there was
truth to the statement, but he was also very aware of his
own abilities, and how his situation made it possible to
fulfil his potential.

Starbuck's background was a wounding-point, and all his
bravado and easy approach to life could be swept away with
one reference to it, or to an old friend, dead for yahrens,
who might have died because of his failure.

Seeing the Boomer of that other existence had torn the old
wounds open anew, then stitched them shut in new patterns.
That Apollo had been a different man than his friend and his
friend's brother, fashioned in a barely gentler crucible.

Starbuck drew a deep breath, trying not to compare the men,
trying to think only of his own world.

Akilles was a solid rock, an anchor, secure in his life, his
goals, everything he did.  He was more like a restless wind
or sea wave, always moving, without any place to really call
home except for life itself.
Together, they seemed to balance and amplify each other's
strong points, and cover the weak.  They were beginning to
understand each other's pasts, and how those pasts had made
them.  Their relationship was forging, finally, into a real
friendship.  They were no longer just shipmates, pilots and
wingman, triad partners, or former conspirators who could
still face judgment.

But what would happen in the new dimension?  What kind of
world would it be?  What kind of people?  What kind of
enemy?  Would they be able to function there, and fit in
while they searched?  What would happen to him if they
encountered the other Starbuck again?

He couldn't voice his fears.  Akilles wouldn't understand;
how could he?  He didn't know what it felt like to have a
shadowy stranger constantly in your mind, even after he
should have been gone.

Starbuck knew that fear of weakness, and fear of showing
weakness, had always been his most crippling flaws.  Others
might exploit a weakness, use it against him.  Akilles was
certainly capable of it.

*I don't want to lose myself.  I have no choice but to play
the role my friend has set for me.  I can't even tell him
how I feel, not really.  I'm not sure I know what I feel.

*But it's been getting worse, this feeling.

*Something ... something is happening....*