A Second Chance
--- A Battlestar Galactica story by Marion Duerselen ---
                      June 25, 1998

     Quietly he sat in his quarters, staring down onto the
picture he held in his hands, seeing and not seeing the all
so familiar faces smiling back at him. He couldn't tell how
long he had been sitting there, just looking at that one
picture - his mother and his father and him as a little boy
of six. It had been so long, so long since he had lost them.
There were days like this one where he found himself missing
them still so much as if it just happened yesterday.
     He still remembered his mother's beautiful, kind face.
Her long hair, that had reached down to her waist and always
smelled like one of those spring mornings on his home world
Caprica.  For a brief moment he smiled to himself about this
poetic thought. Some warrior he had turned out to be. But then
again - hadn't his father been the living proof that heroism
and courage could go hand in hand with sensibility?
     He sighed and put the picture down onto the table in
front of him. They were both dead now.
Victims of this senseless war against the Cylons like so
many others before them and still he couldn't think of the
war as something just bad. After all, it separated his
mother and him from a husband and father who stopped caring
about them both a long time ago.  It brought them together
with a colonial warrior, who loved them both more than
anything and never felt
ashamed to show it. Apollo ...
     He had felt closer to him than to his own father and
when he was talking about his dad, he always meant Apollo.
He still remembered the day Serina, his mother, died. They
had both been crying.  Even Apollo's promise that Serina's
spirit would always be with them did not help at the time.
What had helped was his dad's presence. The way he had
always be there for him  - understanding and loving this
little boy as if he was his own.
     And then one day, a few yahrens after his mother's
death, Apollo had not returned home.

     Troy looked up from the picture in front of him, trying
to hold back the tears that he felt were coming as he
recalled these painful moments of the past.
     "Troy?" A familiar voice from the other side of the
door and an impatient knocking brought him back into
reality.  With a brief smile he shook his head and answered
to the person outside.
     "Come in, Dillon. The door is open."
     Some things never seemed to change. He recalled quite
vividly situations and conversations between his father and
his best friend Starbuck that reminded him so much of his
friendship with Dillon. They both had a way of showing up at
the most inconvenient times, interrupting the few, precious
private moments one could have aboard the Galactica, but
always cheering everybody up with their carefree
disposition.
     The door opened and the smiling face of Lieutenant
Dillon appeared in the doorway. Troy returned the smile as
he looked up into his friend's eyes.
     "Hey, Dillon. What's up?"
     The smile on the other man's face vanished.
     "What do you mean `what's up'? In case you forgot, we
are scheduled for patrol in exactly..."  He stopped to give
his wrist chronometer a quick glance.  "... 10 centons.  You
were nowhere even close to the launch bay to be found.  What
is the matter with ...oh,no."
     He stopped as his eyes, that had been moving all over
the quarters to maybe find the answer to his last question
himself, came to a hold on the picture that was still laying
on the table.
     Troy's smile had disappeared too on Dillon's unnerved
remark.  He was surprised about the harshness of his own
reply.
     "What `Oh no'?!"
     The blond man was sensitive enough to realize that he
just touched a sore spot and carefully tried to find the
right words as he answered to his friend's harsh reply.
     "I couldn't help noticing that picture, Troy. Is it one
of those days again?"
     Obviously he hadn't tried hard enough because the stern
expression on his friend's face remained and he could
clearly see the anger in his brown eyes.
     "What days are we talking about here?"
     "For Kobol's sake, Troy, don't take it out on me. Just
now and then you seem to leap about 20 yahrens into the
past, clinging to some old memories..."
     "Stop it!"
     The dark haired Captain jumped up from his chair and
stared at his friend. He knew Dillon was right. He knew that
it was senseless and only painful to hold on to the past
like that, but he couldn't help it. Something deep inside of
him wouldn't let go and it hurt enough with-out somebody
nagging about it.
     "Look, buddy, I understand you miss them."  Dillon made
one last sensible attempt to let the situation not get out
of hand. He knew he was close to saying something he might
regret later on.  He couldn't hold his temper much longer.
"But that was so long ago. Why can't you just let it be and
move on?"
     Troy moved a hand through his dark hair and slowly
moved around the table to stand face to face with his
friend. Dillon's voice was kind.  Troy realized that he was
only trying to help. Without much success however.
     "Forget it, Dillon. You wouldn't understand. It's not
so much the fact that I still miss them. I just feel there
are so many things left unsaid. See, my mom knew - I know, I
told her more than once how much I loved her. But my dad? I
owe him so much. In the few yahrens we had together he
taught me more and gave me more love than my own dad did in
all the yahrens before."  He took in a deep breath, then
turned away and looked out of the window of his quarters
before he continued.  "I wish I could see him one more time.
Just one more chance to tell him all the things that were
left unsaid back then."
     Dillon placed one hand on his friend's shoulder and
squeezed it slightly.  "I do understand, buddy, but it is
kinda useless to even think about it. Besides, you are going
to have more than enough of talking to do after your
granddad suspended us for being late for our patrol."
     The smile returned to Troy's face and he gave his
friend an amused yet thankful glance. How did he always
manage to somehow cheer him up? No matter what the situation
was, no matter how low he had felt, as soon as Dillon was
around he always felt better in no time.  Didn't his father
use to say the same thing about Starbuck?
     Troy shook his head as if to shake off the ghosts of
the past for now. Dillon was right, it was pointless to
think about it. And Adama would have their heads if they'd
be late for patrol. He turned to grab his flight helmet
sitting on a board next to him and started walking towards
the door.
     "Alright, let's go, Dillon. We are going to be late for
patrol. Why do I always have to wait for you?"
     Troy gave his friend a roguish smile and had to laugh
at Dillon's indignant expression. Then they both had to
laugh and started chasing each other down the corridor
towards launch bay Alpha.

     He opened his eyes and started up - shocked, surprised.
He was still sitting in his viper and remembered that Dillon
and he had been patrolling through one of the neighboring
vectors to check out if it was safe for the fleet. He
couldn't remember falling asleep or passing out for some
reason. How long had he been asleep? He switched on the
unicom and glanced still confused through the transparent
Tylinium of the cockpit's canopy.
     "Dillon, why didn't you ... Dillon?"
     No reply.
     "Dillon, come in. Where are you?"
     Again his friend did not answer and Troy's puzzled
expression was replaced by a now rather  worried one.
     "Viper 2 to Galactica. Come in."
    Once again there was nothing but silence on the unicom.
Troy felt fear rising in his throat.
What had happened? Where was Dillon? Where was the
Galactica? And most importantly, what was his own current
position? The readouts on his scanners didn't make any
sense. Just as he decided to switch on his distress signal,
although that would be a violation of regulations, he picked
up a signal behind the planet in front of him. His heart
almost stopped.  If he ran into Cylons now, alone, without
any useful scanners and more than confusing read-outs, he
wouldn't stand a chance. Troy pulled back his hand from the
distress signal switch and drew in a deep breath. If it was
his fate to run into Cylons now, so be it.  He was not going
to endanger the Galactica and the entire fleet by sending a
distress signal giving the enemy a chance to trace it back
to the fleet. A large object appeared behind the planet and
came into visual range. The young captain let out a relieved
sigh as he recognized it and smiled to himself. It was the
Galactica.
     "Galactica come in. This is Captain Troy."
     Still there was no reply.  Only now it occurred to him
that whatever happened to him might have damaged his unicom,
although the computer was not giving any damage reports. But
then again, nothing the computer was giving him made any
sense. He would have to have the hangar crew check his viper
as soon as he was back. Troy hoped and prayed Dillon was
safe and sound and hopefully awaiting him in the officers
club with a pitcher of cool ambrosia.
     A few centons later he landed in one of the Galactica's
landing bays, unbothered he didn't have any clearance. That
wasn't all that surprising. It happened now and then that a
viper was damaged while in combat or on patrol and lost all
means of communication.  The sensors of the battlestar were
able to identify every known type of spacecraft and the
pilot's species.
     Troy climbed out of his cockpit and glanced around the
landing bay, hoping to see Dillon's viper, when one of the
hangar crew members approached him with a puzzled expression
on his face.
     "Where did you come from?"
     Troy gave him a somewhat angry glance.  "What do you
think? I am part of the deep star exploration patrol, if you
don't mind. Did my wingman return yet?"
     "Well, yes, I think so. A while back there were..."
     "Alright, alright. Sorry, pal, I had a rough day. I
don't mean to be rude, but please check that viper for me,
will ya? Something is wrong with the unicom, and the
scanners and ... well, roughly everything."  He let
out a tired sigh.  "I need a drink. Excuse me."
     Without giving the mechanic a chance to reply he
started walking towards the elevators and left the landing
bay. He knew he should go to the bridge right away and file
a report to the commander, but he wanted to stop by the
quarters of blue squadron first to check if Dillon was okay
before he went to report to his grandfather. A few centons
more or less wouldn't hurt.
     He felt weird as he moved through the corridors of the
Galactica. Something was wrong. He couldn't put a finger on
what it was, but he felt uncomfortable. As he approached the
quarters of blue squadron that feeling seemed to increase
for no obvious reason. He hoped it had nothing to do with
Dillon.
     Only few steps from the quarters he came to an abrupt
halt. The door stood open and he could hear familiar voices
from the interior. A card game was obviously taking place
and he felt his heartbeat increasing as he overheard parts
of the conversations inside.
     "Starbuck, you are stalling again. Are you gonna call
or not?"
     "Alright, alright, why are you so eager to lose, Jolly?
You know, you guys don't stand a chance here."
     Slowly Troy moved closer to the open door, trying to
control his shaking knees. He must have banged his head real
hard out there, because he was obviously hallucinating now.
This was impossible! Starbuck was left behind after a crash-
landing shortly after his father was killed and Jolly - he
still remembered that big, good-natured warrior - was killed
in a Cylon combat about 10 yahrens ago. There was just no
way...
     "Starbuck! Come on, we still have a report to file and
my father doesn't like to be kept waiting."
     "Just another hand, Apollo. I have them against the
wall now."
     "NOW, Starbuck!"
     Troy didn't hear the rest of the conversation. He drew
in a sharp breath and had to lean against the wall next to
the door as his knees threatened to fail. What was going on
here? What happened? This was some kind of weird dream he
was going to wake out off any centon now, he reassured
himself. Before he could make a decision on what to do next,
somebody appeared at the door and noticed him standing
there. He looked up into a familiar, handsome face and the
clear green eyes he had remembered all these yahrens.
     "Are you not feeling well?"
     Apollo looked him straight in the eyes and Troy found
his heart beating against his ribs so hard that he was
unable to answer. He just shook his head and tried to
control his shaking hands and racing thoughts. Apollo gave
him a puzzled glance.
     "Do I know you?"
     Troy cleared his throat, drew in a deep breath and
nodded.  "Yes, sir, I think so. My name is Troy."
     He was afraid of having said the wrong thing by
revealing his name, but he saw no reaction in Apollo's face.
Maybe Serina had never told him, that "Boxey" was just a
nick-name and that his real name had always been "Troy." As
a child he had preferred to be called "Boxey," but when he
grew up he had started to hate that name, that sounded
sillier with every yahren that he grew older and so he had
changed it back into "Troy." The name didn't seem to be at
all familiar to Apollo and so his puzzled expression
remained.
     "I can't say I remember ever seeing you before,
Captain. May I ask what you were doing here?"
     He needed time, a good story, anything. He couldn't
tell the truth.  Apollo would think that he had lost his
mind. Then again, maybe that was exactly what had happened.
What precisely was the truth anyway? He still hadn't a clue
what had happened, how he got here and what happened to
Dillon. What was that about a leap back into the past, that
Dillon had talked about? And didn't he wish for a second
chance of meeting his father and telling him all the things
that were left unsaid?  Here he was, back in the past.
Standing face to face with his father, who had never known
him as an adult and finding himself unable to breathe a
word.
     `Pull yourself together, Troy,' he thought to himself.
"Actually, I was just on my way to the bridge to talk to
Commander Adama," he finally said. It was at least an
excuse, the only thing that came to mind and hopefully a way
to get out of this situation.  But as he heard himself
saying the words it felt like a good idea. He had to see his
grandfather, explain the situation to him. If anybody would
believe him, it was the Commander. Adama had always kept a
very open opinion about everything knowing that the universe
was infinite and that there were more things possible out
there than any of them could even imagine.
     His plan didn't quite work out though. Apollo nodded at
his explanation and replied, "In that case, you can join me.
I was on the way to the bridge myself."
     He stopped and a rather cross expression appeared on
his face as he turned around and looked through the door
into the quarters of blue squadron.
     "Actually, Lieutenant Starbuck and I BOTH were on our
way to the bridge", he said rather loud and in a way, that
left no doubts about it being meant as an order.
     "Alright, Apollo, you won. I'm coming," came the
annoyed voice of Starbuck from within.
The blond warrior slammed his cards onto the table and
grabbed his flight jacket.
     "You got out of this one, Jolly. But next time you are
going to say your good-byes to this cycle's salary."
     "No way. Wanna bet, Starbuck?"
     A wide grin appeared on Starbuck's face.
     "Sure, Jolly. Anytime."
     A micron later he appeared in the doorway next to
Apollo.  Troy couldn't help but staring at him like he had
stared at Apollo before. Just as he remembered him. The
blond hair fell into his face as he was searching his
pockets for one of the fumarillos he used to smoke. There
was that roguish twinkle in his bluish grey eyes and Troy
had to keep himself from smiling.
     He used to like Starbuck a lot. Being with him had
always been a lot of fun. He remembered the time that
Starbuck would let him play cards in this very quarter with
the other pilots.  He was still that little six-year-old and
after his dad hadn't returned home all these yahrens ago,
Starbuck had been there for him, being like a substitute dad
for him, trying to fill in his best friend's place as good
as he only could. When they had to leave him behind after
crash-landing on that planet he had missed Starbuck just as
much as he had missed his father before. Troy just stood
there now, silent, staring at the two men before him and
wondering - wondering what really happened back then, what
became of them.  His eyes widened as he suddenly realized
the opportunity that had been given to him. It didn't have
to happen. Troy knew what was going to take place and he
was able to prevent it! He could tell them about their
destinies and prevent them from going on those fateful
missions. His heart began to race again and he opened his
mouth to say something, but Apollo was faster.
     "So glad you could join us, Starbuck. Now, shall we?"
     "Hey, look, Captain. You don't have to be so sarcastic.
I had the winning chance of a life time in there and you
ruined it all."
     Apollo gave him an annoyed glance.  "Starbuck, every
game is the winning chance of a life time to you."
     "Yeah, well, don't come complaining to me about the
money we just lost."
     Apollo had started to walk down the corridor with Troy
and Starbuck following on his heels and stopped abruptly on
these words.  "What do you mean `we`?! You didn't gamble
with MY money again, did you?"
     Starbuck gave him his most innocent smile and shrugged
his shoulders.  "Well, since you asked..."
     "Starbuck, you..."
     Apollo stopped, pressing his lips tight together and
just gave his friend an angry glance. Then he just turned
around and continued to walk down the corridor.
     "I should know better," Apollo muttered to himself.
"With a friend like that, who needs enemies!"
     Starbuck followed him, smiling. He knew only too well
that Apollo wasn't really meaning what he said and nothing
Starbuck did, could possibly surprise Apollo anymore. They
had been friends half of their lives and knew each other in
and out. It was Starbuck who was surprised, that he was
still able to draw Apollo out of his reserves that easily.
     With a wide grin he lit one of his fumarillos and
noticed the young man that was walking next to him.
     "Hey, Apollo, who's your friend?"
     Apollo glanced over his shoulder, still looking a
little cross.  "Don't expect to hear your name as an answer
to that question for the next couple of days."  After a
brief moment he added, "Well, make that centons."
     A smile came back to Apollo's face and he looked at
Troy, who was still eyeing them with an expression as if he
had just seen a ghost. To Troy it felt precisely like he
did.
     "Starbuck, meet Captain Troy. Troy, this is Lieutenant
Starbuck."
     Troy nodded in Starbuck's direction and then slipped,
"Yes, I know."  He saw the surprised faces in front of him
and wished he hadn't said that. Things were getting more
complicated each centon.
     Starbuck looked at him.  After a moment he said, "I am
sorry, Captain. But have we met before?"
     Troy felt cold sweat breaking out on his forehead and
for a moment he hoped, the ground would open before him and
swallow him. It didn't do him that favor and it wouldn't
have helped his situation at all. Troy would only have
reappeared one deck below them and for a brief micron he had
to smile about that thought.
     "Did I say something funny?"  Starbuck looked him
straight in the eyes and Troy's smile vanished in an
instance.
     "No, not at all. Sorry. I'll explain later, okay? Right
now, I would prefer to talk to the commander first."
     Apollo gave Starbuck a brief glance and said, "Well,
what do you know. There actually IS another person on this
battlestar, besides me, who does not try to avoid having to
file reports to the commander."
     Starbuck returned the glance and they stared at each
other for a few microns in a silent duel,
then started smiling at each other.
     "Very funny, Captain. If Troy here was related to you
in any way, I'd say, that habit is just running in the
family."  Starbuck turned his head and found Troy staring at
him, his face suddenly pale and looking like he was close to
fainting. The blond lieutenant raised one eyebrow and shook
his head.  "What is the matter with you? I am sorry for
being so forward, but you are acting very suspicious, you
know."
     "Leave him alone, Starbuck. The commander is waiting
and besides, since when are you sorry for being forward?"
     Troy gave a sigh of relief as he followed the two young
officers down the corridor. Apollo's remark had centered
Starbuck's attention back on his friend and they went on
with their friendly teasing all the way to the bridge.  That
gave Troy time to clear his thoughts and to just watch them.
The more he watched Apollo the more the realized how much he
had taken after him, although they weren't even related by
blood. But all these yahrens Troy wanted to become like
Apollo more than anything and he was happy to see, that he
succeeded. And Starbuck? He just reminded him so much of
Dillon. Was it pure coincidence that his and his father's
best friend were so much alike? Or was it the special
chemistry between Apollo and Starbuck that had made them the
friends they were?  Opposites that attracted like two poles
of a magnet and that he had felt the day he first met Dillon
yahrens ago?
      The smile that had appeared on Troy's face as he
listened to the teasing between his two companions vanished
as he thought of Dillon now. Whatever happened to himself,
his true concern was the safety of his friend. He sure hoped
that he had made it back to the Galactica - in their own
time. He couldn't continue this line of thought, because at
that moment they arrived on the bridge and Troy's attention
was drawn back onto his surroundings.
     It was true - everything was exactly as he recalled it
from visits to his granddad when he was still a child. They
were all here - Colonel Tigh, Omega, his aunt Athena and
Flight Sergeant Rigel, of whom he knew that she had had a
crush on his father. He smiled to himself - not even Apollo
had known that.  Rigel talked about it to Athena one day and
Troy had been listening. Adults are always quite careless
around young children when it comes to sharing sworn
secrets. They never thought he would understand or even pay
attention, but he did and he probably knew more about every
member of the Galactica's crew than anybody else. And he had
paid closer attention than everybody else and even now, that
they were entering the bridge, he could see Rigel's head
turn slowly to follow Apollo's every move. Poor girl - he
probably never even knew she existed.
     "Apollo!"
     A familiar voice from the control center of the bridge
drew his attention back and he looked up to see his
grandfather standing there, so much younger than today.
Today? No, not today.
This wasn't even close to any time he would call "today."
This time travelling was getting very confusing.
     Apollo hurried to walk up the steps to his father's
seat, giving a sign to the two officers behind him to follow
him.
      "Sorry about the delay, commander. Starbuck and I
had... something important to take care of first."
      Adama looked at them with a stern expression and
raised one eyebrow before he answered:
      "I don't even want to know, Captain."
      "Thank you, sir."
      Adama looked into his son's eyes and knew by his
reply, that whatever "important matter" he and Starbuck had
to take care of, he indeed did not want to know. The
commander adopted the policy to not ask any questions when
Starbuck was involved a long time ago. He was just about to
demand the long overdue report, when he noticed Troy
standing behind Apollo and Starbuck.
     "Who are you?"
     "Let's see, if he gets a reasonable answer to that
question now," Starbuck muttered, when he noticed the stern
glance Adama cast him. He instantly fell silent again and
decided to keep his mouth shut for once and not push his
luck anymore today.
     Adama motioned his hand to have Troy approach him.
Apollo and Starbuck stepped aside to make way for the
addressed officer and Apollo, minding his manners,
introduced him to his father.
     "Commander, this is Captain Troy."
     It was Adama's turn now to show a puzzled face as he
looked at the officer before him.
     "You do look familiar to me, Captain. But I'm not
sure..."
     "Commander!"
     Omega's anxious voice drew Adama's attention
immediately onto his communication officer and saved Troy
for the moment from another rather awkward situation.
     "What is it, Omega?"
     "Sir, we just received a message from the hangar crew
and I am not quite sure, what to make of it."
     He paused for a moment and Adama felt his impatience
increase.
     "Well?"
     "They are saying, that about half a centar ago a viper
came in without clearance and the pilot stated he was part
of the deep star exploration patrol. According to our
records Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck did that
patrol today and they returned together about one centar
before that pilot in question came in. And the strangest
part of it is, that according to the techs this viper
shouldn't even exists. They say, it is technologically far
more advanced then ours, but it is without a doubt a
colonial viper."
     Omega fell silent on completion of his report and
waited for a reaction from the commander.
Adama turned around to face Troy, who found Apollo, Starbuck
and almost every other officer on the bridge staring at him.
     "I think, you owe us an explanation, young man," was
all the commander said, before he announced Colonel Tigh to
be in command of the bridge and ordered Troy, Apollo and
Starbuck to follow him to his nearby quarters.

     Upon arrival there he sat down behind his desk and
waited for the demanded explanation. Silence fell on the
little group as Troy was searching for the right words while
the other three were waiting for him to speak.
     "I don't quite know how to explain this," he finally
started. "It is all very confusing to me as well.  I'm
afraid you will think I have lost my mind when I tell you
straight what I think has happened."
     Starbuck made a sound that unmistakably showed that he
wouldn't put a cubit down on this fellow's sanity.   But he
didn't say a thing and saved himself from being kicked by
Apollo who was standing right next to him. Adama didn't pay
attention to them, but didn't lift his eyes off the
mysterious young man in front of his desk.
     "Well, why don't you tell us where you are from to
start with."
     Troy sighed.  "If I told you that I grew up on the
Galactica, would you believe me?"
     Adama exchanged a confused look with Apollo and
Starbuck, who couldn't do anything else but shrug their
shoulders before he turned back to Troy.
     "What do you mean, you grew up aboard the Galactica?
How long exactly do you think you have been on board?"
     "To be precise, commander, 22 yahrens."
     "That does it! This is ridic..."
     "Starbuck!"  Adama had risen from his chair and made a
sharp motion with his hand.  "I am talking to Captain Troy
now and would very much appreciate your cooperation. So
could you hold back your remarks until I am finished?"
     Starbuck lowered his eyes and bit his lip. One day that
temper was really going to get him in trouble.  "Of course,
sir. I am sorry."
     Adama sighed. He knew Starbuck and his temper only to
well and liked the young lieutenant far too much to be
really angry with him. Just now and then Starbuck was way
out of line and he could not tolerate this from anyone.
     "Now, Captain Troy. You are saying you have been on
board of this ship for 22 yahrens. Truth of the matter is,
that we have been on this quest for about a yahren now and
before that time, before the destruction of our worlds,
there were no children allowed aboard the battlestars. Now,
how do you explain that?"
     Troy looked his grandfather straight in the eyes and
decided to stop beating around the bush and just tell him
straight. Everything else was absolutely pointless.
     "I told you it would sound crazy."
     Apollo gave Starbuck a warning glance, but the blond
man didn't show any intentions of making another remark. The
dark-haired Captain almost smiled, knowing that his friend
was probably close to choking on all the things he was just
dying to say and wasn't allowed to. He turned his head back
to Troy and listened to the rest of his story.
     "Look, the last thing I remember is sitting in my viper
on a deep star exploration with my wingman, Lieutenant
Dillon. I don't know what happened to him, I don't know what
happened to me. I woke up in my viper finding myself in ...
well, it appears to be another time zone. I don't know how
else to describe it."
     Behind him Starbuck made a sound as if he was actually
choking, desperately trying not to laugh or say anything.
Apollo bit his lip, finding himself more and more in the
same position as Starbuck as Troy continued telling his
unbelievable story. He found it very hard not to speak his
mind, but was quite aware of the warning glances his father
was casting in his and Starbuck's direction and kept silent.
     "Captain Troy, you are saying that you are from another
time? From the future in that case?"
     Troy felt like he was on the right track now and
hurried to continue before his courage failed him again.
"Yes, sir, precisely. I was born on Caprica six yahrens
before the destruction of our worlds."
     At that point Starbuck lost his courageous battle
against his temper.
    "Very convincing. That means he is about Boxey's age."
    Troy drew in another deep breath before he said as
serious as he had ever been.  "I AM Boxey."
     "What?!" Apollo and Starbuck had yelled that one word
simultaneously, while Adama just stood there flabbergasted,
not knowing how to best react.
     "Felgercarb!" Starbuck was close to turning into a
raving maniac again.  Before he even stood a chance to
really go wild, Apollo turned to him and gave him one of
these glances that Starbuck only knew too well.
     "Starbuck, would you mind shutting up just a centon?
Can't hear myself think with you going berserk here."
     The blond man raised his hands in a defensive gesture
and drew back.  "Alright, alright, my lips are sealed."
     Apollo sighed.   "I'll believe it when I see it," he
muttered and then turned around to stand next to his father,
facing the young man who just claimed to be from the future.
Even more so - to be his little son.
     Apollo gave his father a confused glance, waiting for
him to say something, but for once Adama was speechless. He
just stared at the young adult in front of him and tried to
keep the open opinion he was known for, seriously taking the
possibility into consideration that he was  telling the
truth. Troy looked from his grandfather to his father and
back and could clearly see the confusion in their faces, the
conflict between two sensitive souls that knew that this
universe was still holding many surprises for them and two
intelligent minds that could not believe something so
abstract without questioning it.
     Weakly Troy tried to smile and helplessly raised his
hands.  "Please, believe me. I am not crazy and I am not
making this up. I can prove it. Asked me anything you want."
     Adama and Apollo exchanged a glance and turned back to
the young man before them.
The commander nodded and looked Troy straight in the eyes.
     "Sounds fair, Captain. But I am warning you, if you are
making this up for whatever reason you will have to face
disciplinary proceedings."
     "Or the loony bin," Starbuck muttered behind them. None
of the three men paid attention to him and so he just sat
down in one of the comfortable chairs in the rear of Adama's
quarters and took an observation post.

     For the next half centar Apollo and Adama both asked
Troy numerous questions to which only Boxey could have known
the answers.  The man that claimed to be from the future
didn't leave one single question unanswered.  After that
half centar Starbuck didn't even feel like making ironic
remarks anymore.  Apollo and the commander both were rather
pale when they stopped questioning Troy.
     Adama moved around his desk to sit down heavily in the
big, comfortable chair behind it.  He stared at the young
man his little grandson was going to be one day. It was so
confusing, so unbelievable and yet true. No doubt about it.
     Apollo stood there, looking into his son's eyes,
overwhelmed by emotions he couldn't even clearly define.
Finally, after a few awkward moments of total silence, he
began to speak again.  "Sorry, for staring. I just can't
believe it is really you, Boxey."
     The young man before him began to smile.  "Troy. I
prefer Troy now. Boxey is a nice name for a little boy, but
you grow out of a name like that."
     Apollo nodded weakly, swallowing hard as he still found
himself unable to take his eyes off the person standing in
front of him.
     "Alright then - Troy. I still don't understand. How did
you come back and why?"
     Troy's smile disappeared and he looked into his
father's face for a brief moment.
     "Can't tell you how it happened. My guess is as good as
yours when it comes to that detail.
About the reasons ..."  He lowered his eyes and stared onto
the floor, not really seeing it, while he was trying to find
the right words to express his emotions.
     Apollo bent down a little in order to make his son look
up again.  "Well? What's the matter, Box...Troy?"
     A very brief smile about this slip flickered across
Troy's face before it went completely serious again. He
looked up to face his father, determined to tell him now.
He had no idea what twist of fate had brought him here or
how long this phenomenon would  last. Troy may have found
himself back in his time any centon now, missing out on the
second chance he had wanted so badly.
     "Well, I guess, I just wanted to see you one more time.
There were so many things left unsaid...  I needed a second
chance to say them, so I could finally move on with my
life."
     Apollo saw Starbuck getting up from the chair he had
been sitting in all that time and staring at Troy with wide
eyes.  "Why do I have the feeling that this story does not
have a happy ending?"
     Slowly Troy turned around to look at the blond
lieutenant, who stood behind him, waiting for an answer and
yet not really wanting to hear it.
     "Because it doesn't," Troy said sadly, almost unable to
face any of the other men.
     Starbuck cast Apollo a glance and then turned away with
a sarcastically muttered "Oh, great."
Adama, too, had risen from his chair and stood behind his
desk.  He looked at the young men before him, afraid to hear
Troy's next words and yet knowing, that he could not prevent
the inevitable. Apollo drew in a sharp breath and tried to
calm his racing heartbeat.
     "How much longer?," was all he said.
     Troy turned back to him and all the pain of the past
yahrens showed only to clearly in his face.  "From today?"
     Apollo nodded.
     "About a yahren."
     Silence fell upon the four persons gathered in Adama's
quarters. For a moment nobody knew what to say, how to
react.  They barely dared looking at each other. It was one
thing to feel the threat of death everyday in the line of
duty, but to actually know how much time was left
was more than any of them could easily deal with.
     Finally Apollo stopped staring at the ground before him
and looked up into his son's worried face.  "Thanks for
telling me," he said in a choked voice, struggling for a
slight smile.
     "This was not what I came here for," Troy replied,
searching for the right words once more.  "I think I never
told you how thankful I was for everything you did for me -
and my mother. For loving us the way you did. For taking
care of me after her death, teaching me all you did, being
there for me ... you know."
     Troy stopped, making a helpless gesture as the words
failed him and he felt tears threatening to choke him. He
swallowed them down and turned slowly to face Starbuck, who
was still standing behind him, silent for once.
     "And that goes for you, too," he said softly.
     Starbuck raised his eyebrows and looked surprised for a
moment, not taking in the true meaning of these words yet.
"You are thankful to me? What ever for? For letting you play
cards in the quarters of blue squadron or slipping you some
mushies behind your father's back?"
     Starbuck gave Troy one of his famous wide grins and was
quite amused about the indignant look on Apollo's face on
hearing these news. But it wasn't the moment for teasing -
on the contrary. Troy's serious look showed quite clearly
that he wasn't out to make jokes about it all.
     "No, Starbuck, it was you who filled in my dad's place
as best as you could after he didn't return and ..."
     Starbuck abruptly raised one hand and Troy fell silent,
giving the blond man a startled look.
     "Why are you telling me this now?"  The lieutenant
stared at the young man before him with a suspicious
expression on his face.  "It doesn't mean, what I think it
does, right?"
     Troy lowered his eyes, unable to stand Starbuck's
glance, and nodded.  "I'm afraid it does."
     Starbuck's eyes widened and, contrary to Apollo, it was
not sorrow or fear that showed in them, but rage.  "Me too?
You've got to be kidding!"
    Adama, who had stood silently behind his desk all that
time, raised one hand to calm the blond man down.
"Starbuck, please. I don't think that Troy is in the mood
for joking. If this was a joke, it would be a bad one
indeed."
     Troy turned around and looked into his grandfather's
face, thankful for his soothing words before the situation
threatened to get out of hand. The young man's eyes were
crying for help, but nothing could save him from Starbuck's
next question, his tone still angry.
     "So, how much longer for me then?"
     "About three yahrens from now."
     "Terrific!" Starbuck exclaimed and started walking up
and down in Adama's quarters like a caged in animal. "Guess
in that case I shouldn't be standing here, but hurry back to
my card game with Jolly, before I run out of time to beat
him after all. That is, if Jolly is still going to be around
long enough."
     "Would you stop that?" Apollo cast his friend an angry
glance. "It is not the time for your sarcasm, Starbuck!"
     "Well, then what exactly is it time for, buddy? Seems
to me, like `time' is getting a whole new meaning all of a
sudden!"
     "I'm sorry," Troy interrupted softly. " I shouldn't
have told you that. It was probably wrong to come here in
the first place, but that wasn't my choice. Fact is, I don't
know how I got here and how much longer I am going to be
around."
     Troy stopped as his eyes met with his grandfather's.
He couldn't help but noticing a rather sad and hurt
expression on the older man's face. It wasn't just sorrow
about what Adama had to learn about his son's and Starbuck's
fate. There was something else ...
     The realization struck Troy all of sudden and he looked
straight into the commander's eyes - shocked and
apologizing.
     "God, I am sorry, granddad. I didn't mean for you to
feel left out. It's just... You see, I must have told you
how much I care for you a hundred times over the past 20
yahrens and you are still going to be there for me, when I
get back to my own time. But ..."  He made a helpless
gesture as he turned back to face Apollo, not noticing the
understanding and loving smile that flashed briefly across
his grandfather's face.  "I didn't mean any harm.  All I
wanted was a second chance to tell you ..."
     Troy was surprised about himself. Now that he had the
opportunity he had been wishing for, saying the words seemed
to be the hardest thing to do. He drew in a deep breath and
continued.
" ... well, that I love you very much and how grateful I am
for all you did for me - both of you."
     Starbuck found it impossible to calm down or just stand
still. He walked back into the opposite direction,
struggling to control his temper with rather little success.
"Stop thanking me! I haven't done anything yet and quite
frankly, I don't believe a word of this felgercarb! You are
not going to tell me that Starbuck and his famous luck are
going to be defeated by those tin cans! No way are they
going to kill me - forget it."
     Troy looked at him, helpless, not knowing how to best
react.  "Actually, they didn't," he replied.
     Starbuck finally stopped his running back and forth and
stared at him with a puzzled expression.  "Now, what is that
supposed to mean?"
     Troy looked from one man to the other, finding the
intensity of the various emotions their faces expressed hard
to bare.  "I don't know if I should interfere anymore than I
already did, but I can't help it. Since I was there when it
happened I can tell you precisely what missions you have to
avoid and ..."

     He heard his own voice resounding in his ears like an
echo. The familiar faces around him had all of a sudden
turned blur and seemed to fade.  Panic struck Troy and he
rubbed his eyes, hoping that it was just his imagination.
When he opened them again, the phenomenon had not vanished.
What had vanished was his father, his grandfather and
Starbuck. Like silhouettes, blur figures in a thick fog, did
he still see them in the distance and realized with a shock
that whatever had brought him back into the past was calling
him back into his own time.  He held out a hand to the
figure, that used to be his father, unable to reach him
anymore and started yelling, knowing however, that his words
were no longer heard.
     "No, no, not yet. Please, let me tell them! Dad! No!"

     "Troy?! Troy, what's the matter? Come in!"
     He heard the words from far away and fell silent,
listening. The voice was familiar and hope rose inside of
him. Was it not too late after all? He felt dizzy. His
thoughts seemed to move in slow motion and only now he
realized that he held his eyes tightly closed.
     "Troy! What's going on over there? Come in!"
     There it was again. A worried, impatient voice he knew
so well. Hesitantly Troy opened his eyes and rubbed them to
clear his sight.
     "Dillon? Is that you?" he muttered confused.
     "No, it's the Imperious Leader! 'Course it's me - do
you see anyone else around here?" came the ironic voice of
his friend over the unicom.
     Troy was torn between a relieved smile to be back in
his own time and the sudden urge to slap his friend's face
just a little for bugging him like that after what he had
just been through. But Dillon didn't know about that - and
he was out of reach anyway, so Troy decided in favor of the
smile.
     "Give me a break, Dillon, will ya? I'm not feeling too
well."
     Dillon wasn't about to let his friend get out of this
situation that easily.  "What was all that yelling about?"
     "Nothing - just a bad dream."
     "Bad dream? Have you been sleeping over there?"
Dillon's voice sounded slightly annoyed.  "Look here,
Captain. For the past 15 centons I have been telling you
about that girl I met last night. I mean, I am sharing my
deepest emotions with you and you fall asleep on me?"
     Troy rolled his eyes and struggled to get back in an
upright position. He was growing a splitting headache and
was still very confused about what had really happened.
Could it be? Had it all been a dream?
     "Dillon, please, spare me that. I just had the most
unbelievable and fascinating dream."
     "Uh, well, I doubt that it was more fascinating than my
story..."
     "Would you quit your babbling for a centon and listen?"
     "Isn't that just like you?  I have to listen to your
story, but you can just go ahead and fall asleep when I tell
mine.  And I'm not even allowed to give you a piece of my
mind about that. Great. You are taking advantage of your
higher rank again, aren't you?"
     "I might, if you don't shut your mouth right away,
lieutenant," Troy answered. It was meant as a joke, but
unintentionally the words came out rather harsh.  He could
almost see Dillon's offended expression.  "I'm sorry,
Dillon. I didn't mean to be that rude."  The reply came
right away.
     "Forget it, buddy. If you risk getting in trouble with
me, you must be serious."  He gave a slight giggle and
continued.  "Alright, tell me about you dream."
     "It was amazing, Dillon. I really did take that leap
back into the past.  I met my father and Starbuck and
finally got to tell them all the things  I wanted to tell
them. And although it was all just a dream, it felt so ...
real. It still does. Can't tell you why, but I feel so much
better now."  He stopped for a moment.  "I think, I'm
finally over it and can move on now."
     A relieved sigh was heard over the unicom as Dillon
glanced over to the viper flying next to his.
    "I am glad to hear that. Glad for you. I mean it."
    "Thanks, Dillon."
    "You know, it's a shame I haven't known you as a child.
I think I would have liked to meet your father and Starbuck.
From what I've heard about them, they must have been great
guys."
      A smile flashed over Troy's face and softly he
replied, " They were."
     Dillon started smiling, too, and a wicked twinkle came
to his eyes as he said, "Hey, why do you still sound so low?
Don't put yourself down, Captain. Hasn't anyone ever told
you that you are quite ... acceptable yourself?"
     Troy raised an eyebrow.  Then heard the faint giggle on
the other side of the unicom line and couldn't help but
grinning.
     "And did I ever tell you that I hate you, Lieutenant?"
     Dillon burst into laughter.  " ell, what a coincidence.
I hate you, too, you know."
     They looked at each other through the blackness of
space and exchanged a wide smile.
     "Alright, now that we have that cleared out let's go
home and have that long overdue pitcher of ambrosa," Troy
finally suggested.
     Dillon looked puzzled for a moment.
     "What ambrosa are you talking about?"
     "That's a long story. I tell you some other time."
     Both vipers turned around.  Simultaneously the two
young pilots hit their turbos, hurrying
back to the battlestar that had been their home for so many
yahrens now.
     `22 yahrens,' Troy thought.  That sure was a long time
- especially for mourning. He still could hardly believe,
that a dream would have that much of an impact.  That the
ghosts of the past which had been chasing him all those
yahrens had just disappeared. But it had to have been a
dream. What other explanation could there be for what he had
encountered? Just a dream ...? He wondered.

     He started up from the comfortable seat he had been
sitting in and looked around, confused and with a racing
heartbeat he could not explain at first. How long had he
been asleep? He
couldn't tell. The puzzled look on his face increased as the
memory returned and the images
he had seen grew clearer with each centon. What a dream!
     Apollo sat up in an upright position and rubbed his
eyes. As he moved his hands though his hair, trying to clear
his confused mind, he heard a familiar sound from the room
next door that had him freeze and stare at the door, almost
afraid of what he might see - or rather not see.  At that
moment a young boy and a robot-daggit showed up in the
doorway.  The child started smiling as he saw Apollo being
awake again. Apollo returned the smile with a relieved sigh
and held out his hand to have the boy approach him.
     "Boxey! Am I glad to see you."
     The child looked up to him, surprised.
     "You already saw me about 15 centons ago before you
fell asleep, dad."
     "I did? Sorry, son, I had a ... weird dream. Sorry
about falling asleep."
     "That's alright, dad. What did you dream?"
     Apollo's face turned serious as he thought about his
dream. He could still see the face of that young man before
his inner eye, who claimed to be his son.
     "Dad?"
     Apollo shook his head and centered his attention back
onto his little son, who was sitting on the floor in front
of him, looking up to him with big brown eyes, waiting for
an answer. Was there a resemblance to that face he had seen
in his dream?
     `Couldn't,' he thought to himself.  `After all, it was
just a dream.'
     "Never mind, Boxey. It was a silly dream..."
     But that weird feeling in his stomach that he had felt
when he woke up remained. Slowly, Apollo stood up and walked
a few steps through the room, not sure whether or not he
should ask the question that came to mind.  He looked at the
little boy, who was still sitting on the floor playing with
his daggit and fear rose in his throat. Apollo walked back
over to him and stood quiet for a moment, just watching his
little son, before he found the courage to speak.
     "Boxey?"
     His son looked up at him.
     "Yes, dad?"
     "Would you rather be called Troy?"
     He expected a puzzled reaction.  Or was he rather
hoping for one?
    Boxey shook his head and looked back at the daggit, whom
he was teaching a new trick.  "No, I never really liked my
name. I like Boxey much better."
     Apollo felt his face pale and drew in a sharp breath.
Couldn't be...  What did Troy say? One more yahren? But it
had been a dream. Impossible.
     "Boxey," he finally said in a choked voice.  "Are you
going to be okay alone for a while? I have to go see
Starbuck."
     The young boy looked up at his dad and smiled.  "Sure,
dad. Tell Starbuck to come visit me some time. He is funny.
I really like him, you know."
     Apollo swallowed hard and tried not to show his
confusion and fear.  "I know you do, Boxey," he said weakly
before he crouched down next to his son.  "Are you going to
give me a hug goodbye?"
     The little boy got up and threw his arms around the
young man's neck. For a brief moment Apollo held the child
close to himself, never wanting to let go again and secretly
wiped away a tear that had run down his cheek. Finally he
let go and looked in the little face before him.
     "I see you later, big guy. Okay?"
     Boxey smiled at him and nodded before he turned to his
pet again.  He ran his hand over the daggit's soft fur.
     Apollo got up and slowly moved towards the door that
opened in front of him. As he stood in the cool, metallic
aisle he heard the childish voice of his son behind his
back.
     "Daddy?"
     The young captain turned around to look at the child
inside the room as the door started to close again. Just
before it did and blocked his sight he heard Boxey's soft
words from within, "I love you."
                    
                    --- The End ---