Lessons In Allegiance
Virtual Seasons 2, Episode 14
September 21, 2005

By Lisa Zaza and Maggie Hutchison

Note: The time frame of Lessons In Allegiance starts the morning after
the murder was solved in Bones, but before that story officially ends.


Chapter One

     Starbuck walked briskly down the corridor.  One secton.  That was
all that stood between him and full flight duty.  Well, okay, one secton
and four rogue cadets.  He sighed as he recalled in his day if they had
trouble with a cadet, they'd just fire him out on his astrum.  Apparently
the Council had been issuing directives affecting the training of this
latest bunch of cadets.  Of course, it couldn't have anything to do with
the fact that Sire Who's It's son was one of the offenders.  No, that was
just a coincidence.  Yeah, right.
     He tried to tell himself it wouldn't be that bad.  After all, this
wasn't the first time he had taught cadets.  Actually, the first time had
been a great experience, considering most of their fellow Warriors were
in Life Station with a life threatening illness, and it was left up to
Apollo and him to whip a bunch of shuttle pilots into shape to defend the
Fleet.  Female shuttle pilots he reminded himself fondly as his mind
wandered back to standing in a room surrounded by several beautiful women
in their pressure suits. Ah, yes, there is always some good along with
the bad.
     Besides, this had been the toughest sectar of his career since he
had been put on restrictive duty for stepping out of line on the bridge
when Commander Adama had been about to call off the search for Sheba.  He
just couldn't stand there and let them all give up on her.  Frak, Apollo
had looked like he had already resigned himself to Sheba's death.  Well,
Starbuck hadn't and, as usual, he didn't have a problem letting anyone
know that.  Colonel Tigh had come down on him hard.  He was making a
point that he was not going to tolerate any breach of discipline in the
ranks, and especially not by a deputy squadron leader.  Whatever.  Still,
Starbuck supposed that was primarily why he was stuck with this
assignment.  Perhaps the Colonel thought it deliciously ironic to assign
the Lieutenant to four disruptive cadets.
     Starbuck chuckled as he wondered what Lieutenant Deitra had done to
land in the same situation.  Deitra was a consummate professional. 
Starbuck was impressed with her confidence and ability.  It was Deitra
who had contacted him the previous night to suggest he write up the
course plan while she look over the cadet's evaluations so they knew what
they were up against.  She was a born organizer, which was good, because
until Tigh had suddenly requested a course outline, Starbuck had been 
planning to wing it.
     He reflected that perhaps he wasn't taking this very seriously.  He
half intended to make a quick assessment to see if these cadets were
salvageable and then get enough incriminating data on them to have them
expelled from the program.  Yeah, that whole son-of-a-Councilman
situation didn't sit well with him.  He was sick of seeing undeserving
Warriors elevated above their peers simply because of who their father
was.  Admittedly, there was a lot less of that on the Galactica than
there had been back in the Colonies, to which he gave full credit to
Commander Adama.  Still, it angered him that the Council had the power to
make decisions like this that should be strictly military, as far as he
was concerned.
     Starbuck walked into the nearly empty space that was supposed to be
their classroom.  Deitra sat there alone at the desk.  He looked up at
the chronometer on the wall and saw it was 0800 centars.
     "Well, I'm glad you made it.  I was beginning to think I would be
the only one." Deitra smiled ruefully at him.
     Starbuck grinned and handed her a java, "Not exactly a bunch of
keeners."
     "No." Deitra agreed, taking the java.  "Thanks.  How'd you fix it?"
     "Strong and black." Starbuck replied.
     "Perfect." Deitra nodded and took a sip of the hot beverage noting
the fact that Starbuck's java was twice as big and almost empty.  "Needed
a little pick-me-up this morning?" Deitra asked as she indicated his cup.
     "To say the least," he rubbed his tired eyes.  He had been up late
putting together the course outline and then in the early centars, when
it had felt as though he had just fallen asleep, he had ended up in Life
Station after Boxey had been attacked by some madman.  Starbuck was still
a bit confused about everything that had happened, but it had to do with
Sergeant Decker, who was apparently really a former member of the
Thirteenth Directorate called Tabor, who had killed a Major Dorian, also
with the Thirteenth Directorate, deca-yahrens ago.  Commander Adama had
been suddenly accused of his crime based on a beating he had given Dorian
on the date he disappeared.  Starbuck didn't know the old man had it in
him.  It turned out that the turbo flush incident that Starbuck had been
chuckling about the night before was Apollo's facilities blowing up from
an explosive device that was meant to kill the Captain.  Lords, what a
way to go!  Starbuck had looked on in shock and horror as missing pieces
of the story were revealed by a charred, broken figure of a man who was
trying to seek absolution for his crimes in the last moments of his life. 
He reminded himself to buy a decent bottle of ambrosa to share with
Apollo so he could get the rest of the story out of him when things had
settled down again.
     "So, since we're all alone, what did you do to get stuck with this
duty?" Starbuck asked her as he sat on the edge of the desk gulping down
more of the strong brew.
     "Stuck with it?  Is that how you think of it?" Deitra asked,
chuckling.  "No, don't answer that.  Of course, you'd feel that way.  I
didn't do anything.  I thought it would be a good experience for me."
     Starbuck shook his head giving her a pained expression.  "You
volunteered?"
     "Well, not exactly, but I do value the opportunity to use some of my
leadership skills." Deitra replied.
     Starbuck grinned at her.  "Fill your boots, Deitra." He wouldn't
mind taking a secondary role if she wanted the invaluable experience. 
Yeah, this secton wouldn't be too bad at all.  "I'll follow your
lead...if you really want the opportunity."  He winked at her.  He could
just sit back and watch, adding his voice of experience when it was
really necessary.  He went to take another sip of java, but his cup was
empty.  Ah, the story of your life, Bucko, he thought wearily.
     "Sounds good, Starbuck." Deitra replied confidently.  "Sheba was
supposed to do it, wasn't she?" Deitra asked.
     "Yeah, well, she was reassigned," he replied.  Apollo had actually
taken Sheba with him to break the news to Starbuck about this assignment
when it appeared they would be working together.  He assumed that when
Adama had been charged, Apollo had conscripted Sheba's aid to defend his
father.  Starbuck sighed as he realized there was a time not that long
ago when it would have been him at Apollo's side.
     "What's she doing?" Deitra asked, truly curious.
     "Danged if I know." Starbuck bluffed easily, as if playing a hand of
cards.  If word of the scandal made it out, it wouldn't be because of
him.  He looked at his chronometer.  0803.  "Seems like our cadets are as
unimpressed with this extra course as we...make that, I am."
     "I studied their files.  Kyna, Jada and Kefira actually have high
academic marks.  Pelias is average.  The problem with all of them seems
to be they have no respect for authority. Pelias, in particular, also has
a problem with women in authority, not to mention women as Warriors. They
also have no use for teamwork." Deitra filled him in as she handed over
the datapad.
     "So, why the frak are we wasting our time with them?" Starbuck
asked.
     "Good question.  Why don't you ask Colonel Tigh the next time you
see him?" Deitra replied with a smile.
     Starbuck sniffed in amusement.  He'd just as soon stay clear of Tigh
for a while. "I..."
     He broke off the comment as the first of the wayward cadets strolled
in as though she didn't have a care in the universe.  She glanced briefly
at Deitra and Starbuck and then took her place at one of the four tables
in the room.  She stretched out her long, slender legs after taking her
seat and poked at the datapad that lay in front of her while brushing a
tendril of black hair from her eyes that had escaped its tether.
     "Cadet...?" Deitra asked the slender, young woman.
     "Jada." She replied lightly as her dark, brown eyes met Deitra's.  
     "You're late, Cadet Jada." Deitra told her briskly.
     "Well, on a geologic time scale, it's barely discernible." Jada
replied indifferently with a shrug, as two more cadets started to walk in
the room.
     The short, stocky women stared at each other with intense dislike as
one brushed against the other coming through the hatch which distracted
Deitra from the swift reprimand she had been about to direct to Cadet
Jada.
     "Watch where you're going, Kefira." The first woman snapped, green
eyes blazing.  Her fair, freckled complexion burned with a redness that
accented her short and wavy auburn hair 
     "Me?  You bumped into me, Kyna.  You always were an oaf." Kefira
replied.  While she had the same stocky build and light colored
hair-dusty blonde, tied into a tight knot, in her case-that was
characteristic of Virgons, her features were darker and her eyes were
light brown.
     "Hey, that's enough!" Deitra told them.  "Take your seats.  You're
late."  She raised her eyebrows at Starbuck as he watched the scene
unfold with something akin to amusement on his face.  He started
reviewing the cadet's evaluations as the women took their seats as far
away as possible from each other considering the size of the room. 
According to their reviews, these women had clashed before.  In fact,
they seemed to thrive on harassing and haranguing each other.
     The last cadet, Pelias, sauntered into the room and stopped in his
tracks as he took in his fellow classmates and instructors.  He actually
backed up and looked at the room number before again coming through the
hatch with a look of utter contempt and boredom.  For a moment he stood
arms crossed, using his height to gaze down upon everyone in a pose that
they could tell was well-practiced.  His stance might have been more
impressive had he not had his arms folded across an extra layer of
padding.  "Pelias, take your seat." Deitra told him as she stood beside
the desk.
     "Who are you?" Pelias asked her with a note of disdain evident in
his voice.  "I'm accustomed to having people introduce themselves before
they address me."
     Deitra took a deep breath before replying.  "Lieutenant Deitra,
Cadet.  Lieutenant Starbuck and I are your instructors for the next
secton."
     "A woman?" Pelias asked as he stood with his arms still crossed and
feet firmly planted.
     "Well, at least your eyes check out, Cadet," replied Deitra,
struggling to cap her annoyance.  "You get full marks for discerning my
gender."
     "Is this some kind of a joke?" His eyes swung to Starbuck. 
"Starbuck?"
     Starbuck could feel the entire room fill with tension as every woman
present bristled from Pelias' words.  "That's Lieutenant Starbuck,
Cadet."  Starbuck returned evenly.  "Take your seat."
     Pelias hesitated, as if to strike home a point, before strolling
over to the last available table.
     Deitra gritted her teeth together as she watched Pelias sit down. 
Even knowing beforehand that the young man was a chauvinistic creep, she
wasn't quite prepared for the frontal assault.  She saw Starbuck give her
a questioning look and she nodded to him briefly and walked to the front
of the class.
     "Now, I'm sure you all realize that you're doing this extra
component to your training because your instructors have identified you
as having some deficiencies in regards to discipline and teamwork." 
Deitra coolly appraised the cadets.  "Apparently, there are also some
'attitude adjustments' that we need to work on." Deitra looked directly
at Pelias, who simply raised his eyebrows and stifled a yawn with his
hand.
     "How much of our overall mark does this course make up?" Kyna
interrupted. 
     "You will address me as Lieutenant Deitra when you wish to ask a
question.  Saying 'excuse me' or simply raising your hand are both
appropriate means by which to get my attention." Deitra added calmly
while staring down the cadet. "This is not grade school."
     Kyna hesitated as she looked at her instructor in surprise.  "Excuse
me, Lieutenant Deitra.  How much of our overall mark does this course
make up?"
     "This course determines whether you proceed with or leave the
program. It's not a percentage of a grade, it's a major determining
factor in your future."  Deitra told them as her eyes connected with each
cadet looking at her...which, of course, excluded Pelias.  "As such, we
expect you to take it seriously and that includes arriving on time."
     A snort of derision came from the back corner where Pelias was
seated.  "You can't grade us on the time we arrive in class," he sneered.
     Deitra took another deep breath instead of drawing her laser and
shooting him dead, which was her first instinct.  "Cadet Pelias, since it
doesn't state in your file that you have a hearing impairment, I must
assume your are either impertinent or stupid.  Which is it?"
     "You can't speak that way to me!  Don't you know who my uncle is?"
Pelias stood up outraged.
     "I don't care who your uncle is and I am not the one being evaluated
here." Deitra replied calmly.  "You are here by virtue of the fact that
the Council believes you deserve another chance to convince us that you
can behave in a disciplined manner and can learn to work together as a
team.  Both of those qualities are necessary for you to become Colonial
Warriors."
     "There are several examples of great men in history who haven't
always been team players, Commander Cain for example.  Even Lieutenant
Starbuck has a history of not always following orders and he's one of our
fleet's greatest heroes." Pelias returned while trying to stroke
Starbuck's ego, bureaucratic inclinations having a tendency to run in his
family.
     Starbuck looked up in surprise, as he was suddenly included in the
indolent snitrad's argument.  He had just been looking at Pelias' file as
he listened to Deitra berating and briefing the cadets on their
situation.  Frak, he had thought Pelias was the son of a Councilman, not
just a mere nephew.  He started to open his mouth, but Deitra cut him off
with a look that plainly stated his astrum is mine!
     "Cadet, you have a very long way to go before you attain the
experience and respect of either Lieutenant Starbuck or Commander Cain.
If you continue down this current flight path you won't even be fit to
clean their boots.  Despite your bureaucratic connections, you will not
graduate as the Commander of a Battlestar, and therefore, you will treat
your superior officers and your peers with due respect. Now, was any of
that unclear?"
     Pelias stared back at Deitra insolently.  "I guess we'll see about
that."
     "Your connections must be much higher up than your uncle if you're
getting command of a Battlestar," Jada chuckled.  "Last time I looked,
Commander Adama had the only one around here."
     "Must be nice to have family in high places. Some of us have to earn
our way through life." Kyna snarled.
     "Yeah, why do we even have to put up with this highbrow if he's
going to graduate whether he deserves to or not?" Kefira demanded.
     "Because," Deitra interrupted, "he's a quarter of the four equal
parts of this little equation. I see that you all excel in mathematics,
so let me pitch it to you like this.  For you to graduate you need to
pass this course.  Now, just to clarify, I'm not talking to just three of
you.  All of you have to pass this course.  If preferential treatment has
indeed existed in any way, shape or form up until now, it stops here. 
Now, as I said before, you need to learn to work together.  Lieutenant
Starbuck and I have decided that the best way to do that is to give you a
group mark." Deitra smiled as four young faces stared back at her in
shock and horror.  She just hoped Starbuck would maintain his trademark
game face and wouldn't give her impetuous decision away.  "Yes, that will
be a pass or fail mark.  To succeed in this course you will be required
to work together and support each other through each and every obstacle
we throw your way.  You will treat us and each other with due respect at
all times.  There is a rough coarse outline on your datapads for your
convenience.  That is, of course, subject to change at our discretion. 
Any questions?"
     "Lieutenant Starbuck hasn't really said much." Pelias muttered. "I'd
like to know if he agrees with the way you conduct your class.  It seems
a bit draconian to me." 
     Starbuck restrained himself from asking, Is that all right,
Lieutenant Deitra?  He rose from the desk to stand beside Deitra.  "You
didn't end up here because you need a gentle push in the right direction. 
You're here because you need a good, swift kick in the astrum to realize
your potential.  Frankly, we don't believe any of you deserve this
chance.  We're Colonial Warriors because we wanted to be just that, and
we were willing to work our astrums off to get where we are today."
Starbuck saw Deitra nodding in agreement.  She looked more resolved than
ever.  "Despite our appraisals however, you have another chance.  So,
either you help each other get into shape or you all get ready to ship
out.  It's as simple as that.  Does that clear it up for you, Cadet
Pelias?"
     "Yes." Pelias replied.
     "Impertinent or stupid, Cadet?" Starbuck retorted, glaring at the
man.
     Pelias took a deep breath.  His nostrils flared in resentment. 
"Yes, sir, Lieutenant Starbuck." He drawled, every word dripping venom. 
He had not found an ally in the only other male in the class.
     Starbuck nodded at him.  "Good.  Now, if you take a look at your
datapads, you'll see that after our five centon introduction...which you
were all late for, we were scheduled for a little pretest."
     Four consecutives groans echoed through the room.
     "Ah, the first sign of teamwork, Lieutenant Deitra.  Isn't that
encouraging?" Starbuck smiled at her.  "By my chronometer, I'd say we're
running roughly twenty centons late due to your inane little display of
rebelliousness, so you have approximately ten centons left in which to
complete your assignment."
     "That's not fair!" Pelias insisted indignantly.
     "No, but neither is life and that's what I'm going to teach you. It
isn't fair when a single Viper gets jumped by ten Cylons, but it happens,
so dry your eyes, and focus. Not only have you wasted our time, but you
have wasted your own." Starbuck replied.  He looked at his chronometer
again.  "Nine centons.  You'd better get started, Cadets."
     With an array of withering and scornful countenances, the cadets
activated their datapads and started furiously working their way through
the pretest from Hades Hole.  Starbuck knew that there was a remote
chance that they'd finish it in nine centons.  Oh well, so much for his
theory on sitting back and watching.

* * * * *

     "Well?" Deitra asked Starbuck as the last of the cadets sauntered
out of the classroom.  The first half of the class had been one exercise
in frustration followed by another.  Deitra calculated that it had taken
her about one centon to lose her temper, but reminded herself that at
least the cadets didn't know that.  Outwardly, she had maintained her
poise and had continued to display the esprit and self-control that had
helped earn her the position of the Silver Spar deputy squadron leader.
     "Hmm," Starbuck muttered as he entered marks into his datapad while
sitting at the desk.  "I'm thinking we should start the second half with
crash landing Vipers.  We skip the simulation training entirely and
proceed planet-side.  After all, Jada is cocky enough to believe she can
do it, Pelias is idiotic enough, and Kyna and Kefira will likely blow
each other out of orbit before we get there anyhow." 
     Deitra chuckled.  "I don't think the Colonel will like losing four
Vipers.  He may also be reluctant to lose the cadets." She sat on the
desk and looked over his shoulder at the datapad.
     "Well, he hasn't met them, has he?" Starbuck grinned up at her. 
"I'm telling you, this plan has definite possibilities."
     Deitra shook her head.  "You're supposed to be the voice of
experience here."
     "Frak, I keep forgetting." Starbuck dramatically slapped a hand to
his forehead.  "All right, first we make Kyna and Kefira wingmen."
     "Please tell me you're still joking." Deitra begged him.  Kyna had
enlightened them to the fact that the young women were rival gang members
on Virgon.  Their animosity had run deep for yahrens.  Oddly enough,
Deitra's speech about them now coming together in a mutual purpose to
defend the people of the fleet hadn't impressed them one iota.
     "No.  I'm not.  What better way for them to learn to work together
and trust one another?" Starbuck asked her candidly.
     "You're the one who said they're just as likely to blow each other
out of orbit." Deitra reminded him.
     "Yeah, so either way it's a win-win situation." Starbuck grinned at
her.
     "I think I missed that class in leadership training," Deitra
commented wryly.
     "No, that's my voice of experience." Starbuck explained patiently.
     "Oh, sorry.  My mistake."
     "Don't be so hard on yourself, Lieutenant." Starbuck shrugged.  "So,
by default, that puts Pelias and Jada together."
     "Well, at least Jada's more likely to hit him with witty retorts
than her lasers." Deitra commented.  
     "What's her story?" Starbuck asked.
     "She was an orphan.  You may have noticed she has a bit of a chip on
her shoulder." Deitra told him.  "I think she's hesitant to get too close
to people.  She seems to use her wit as some kind of psychological
barrier to keep others away."  
     "Oh." Starbuck answered briefly.  He'd seen Jada's type before. 
Hades, he'd been just like her at one time, consumed with resentment and
mistrust.  She made light of everything and treated it all with a casual
indifference.  It was as though she felt she was owed something for what
life had dealt her thus far.
     "Any thoughts on how to handle her?" Deitra asked. "Beyond the
'crash landing Vipers' plan?" She added with a grin as an afterthought.
     "I didn't major in psychology at the Academy." Starbuck evaded her
question and her searching gaze.
     "No, but you were an orphan too.  I thought maybe you would be able
to relate a bit as to how she feels." She suggested.  After all, Jada had
a couple Starbuck-like tendencies.  Deitra noticed that even though
Starbuck had finished his data entries, he continued to peer down at the
datapad as if somehow it mystically held the answer to her question.
     "It's hard to say really.  I remember...acting the same way when I
was her age.  When you're an orphan, relationships are generally
temporary.  Your friends get transferred or the odd lucky one gets
adopted." Starbuck told her quietly.  "As a Warrior, it can be the same;
here today, gone tomorrow."
     Deitra looked down at him in surprise.  Though she had been looking
for a serious answer, she didn't actually believe Starbuck was likely to
give her one.  "I guess I never really thought of it like that before. 
How do you get past it?"
     Starbuck wondered about that himself.  Had he moved past that?  No,
probably not.  Wasn't that why he had so much trouble truly committing
himself to a relationship?  Wasn't that why he surrounded himself with as
many friends as possible, so it would be less noticeable when
one...disappeared from his life.  Okay, Bucko, she's asking about Jada,
not you!  "Time and a thick skin, I guess." He shrugged.  "I think it
helps to actually feel like you belong to...something that endures."
     "You mean the Colonial Service?" Deitra prompted.
     "Yeah, that and Humanity.  It just helps you put things into
perspective about how small a piece of the big picture you really are."
Starbuck replied in a measured tone.
     "Why do I feel I should be buying you a drink?" She had never seen
this reflective side of Starbuck before.
     He grinned up at her.  "I feel more like you should be lighting me
up a smoke and lying your head on my shoulder."
     Deitra groaned aloud at his analogy.  Lords, but how quickly his
serious side was withdrawn behind his usual bravado!  "Just don't let
Pelias catch you saying something like that, or I'll have to kill you in
front of him simply to prove a point."

* * * * *

     Pelias made his way quickly to the Rising Star and ultimately, his
uncle's quarters.  Lords, he was not going to stand idly by while
Starbuck and that...woman, destroyed his chance at a fast-tracked career
in the military.  His family had a long history of both civil and
military service.  Admittedly, none of them had worked very hard to
achieve their ambitions, however, when your family could trace their
roots to the original aristocratic descendents of Kobol, one should not
have to work very hard.  Their bloodline determined their rights and
their destiny.  It was as simple as that.  A commoner like Starbuck
couldn't comprehend that, but he could take orders, as was his station.
     Pelias signaled his entrance and was soon admitted to Sire Feo's
chambers.  He could feel tension drain from his body as he entered the
opulent surroundings.  There was something so calming about familiarity. 
Pelias had been raised in a home that was palatial compared to the
quarters that Feo now maintained.  In contrast, the starkness of the
recruit quarters on the Galactica was an oppressive reality that he
really hadn't come to terms with.  He reminded himself it was only
temporary.
     "Pelias, my boy, you're looking well." Sire Feo told him fondly as
he grasped his nephew's forearm.  Feo and Pelias were all that was left
of their distinguished family line.
     "Thank you, Uncle, as are you." Pelias smiled and bowed his head to
his patriarch in respect.
     Feo nodded.  The boy knew his place, as he should.  "I thought you
would be involved in your studies, son.  Isn't this the secton you
have...personalized instruction?" He had pushed for this in Council.  It
hadn't been difficult to gain his contemporaries' support, after all,
most of them came from distinguished bloodlines themselves, or at least
professed to.
     It was evident to Feo that the careful preparation and moulding of
the young aristocrat was not being properly attended to by the hastily
assembled team of Warriors that made up the current faculty.  The Academy
had paid special attention to the individual needs of the privileged
class.  Feo had been disgusted when it had been brought to his attention
that his only heir had been lumped in together with a group of problem
cadets.  The Council had decided that the deputy squadron leaders would
personally handle these cadets.  In particular, Lieutenant Starbuck was
to personally supervise Pelias' additional training to give the young man
the necessary extra credit to continue in the program.  While lacking
birthright, the Lieutenant had distinguished himself as a recipient of
the Gold Cluster and an outstanding officer coming out slightly ahead of
his counterpart, Lieutenant Greenbean, in Feo's opinion.
     "Well, actually, Uncle, that's why I came to see you.  It was my
understanding that this specialized training would be largely ritualistic
and more of a formality." Pelias suggested.
     "Well, that goes without saying, my boy." Feo declared grandly
waving his hand in the air.
     "Apparently not." Pelias contradicted him.  "Lieutenants Starbuck
and Deitra are sharing a cozy little class of four.  I have been teamed
with three common-women and collectively we have been informed we are to
work together to achieve a group mark of pass or fail.  This will
determine whether we continue in the program." Pelias stated
acrimoniously.
     Sire Feo narrowed his eyes.  Apparently, the Council's intent had
not translated well through the chain of command.  "Obviously, a lack of
communication is the problem, Pelias.  I'll handle this personally."  

* * * * *

     Starbuck couldn't help but smile as Kyna, Jada and Kefira filed back
through the hatch with five centons to spare before their meal break was
concluded.  Now, that was more like it.  Even Deitra had a smile playing
on her lips as she realized that they had made some progress with the
wayward cadets.  Kyna and Kefira even desisted from heckling each other
as they walked into the classroom, but both women paused when they
noticed the tables had been arranged differently.
     "From now on, you will be seated with your assigned wingman." Deitra
informed them as they arrived.  "Kefira, you will be Kyna's wingman. 
Pelias will be Jada's."
     "What?  Surely you realize that she'd be more likely to annihilate
me than protect me!" Kyna exploded.
     "Well, then you have a problem." Starbuck suggested as he crossed
his feet on the desk and linked his fingers behind his head while he
sought to achieve the perfect balance in the precariously tilted chair. 
"Especially in combat.  It will be a real pain in the astrum if you have
to evade Kefira's lasers as well as the enemy's." He added nonchalantly.
     "We thought you would have covered it by now, but your fellow
Warriors are not the enemy.  Trusting your wingman is critical for your
survival." Deitra told them as she perched on the edge of the desk.
     "Well, in that case, does anyone know a decent little
non-denominational prayer they can offer at my funeral service?" Jada
asked with a grin.  "Here lies Jada, victim of a son-of-a-Councilman."
     "Nephew." Kyna corrected.
     "Yeah, well, it kind of loses its effect with nephew." Jada
shrugged.
     "Speaking of Pelias," Deitra looked at her chronometer, "he's late."
     "Well, that's a switch." Jada interjected.
     "He's not exactly getting into the spirit of our group mark, is he?"
Kefira asked the others.
     "It's not our fault if he doesn't show." Kyna averred before
suddenly looking doubtful and asking, "Is it?" 
     "Not your fault, no." Deitra replied.  "However, the parameters that
we first outlined for you specifically stated that you need to work
together and support one another.  That's difficult to demonstrate if
Pelias isn't here."
     "That son-of-a..." Kyna started as she curled her hands into fists.
     "Councilman." Jada finished smoothly as she noted Deitra's
disapproval.  "So, what if we go find our...fellow cadet and remind him
of his duty to us?"  She looked to Deitra for her approval.  "After all,
I should really keep an eye on my wingman.  I'd hate for him to get
himself into any more trouble than he already is."
     "Do you have any idea where he is?" Deitra asked skeptically. They
had already wasted enough time, however, at least the women were
beginning to work together, even if it was to unite against their
classmate.
     "Probably went running to Daddy." Kefira stated.
     "Uncle." Kyna corrected.  "Where would that be?"
     "Where most of the filthy rich people reside in the Fleet, the
Rising Star." Jada told them.  "Are you with me, ladies?"
     "Wouldn't miss it," Kyna told her.
     "Gotcha covered, Jada." Kefira winked at her.  "In place of your
wingman, of course."
     "You have one centar." Starbuck added.  "After that, class is done
for the day.  There's a shuttle leaving for the Rising Star in..." he
looked at his chronometer," eight centons."
     "We'd better run for it," Jada suggested as she lead the way.  Kyna
and Kefira followed hard on her heels.
     Soon the three cadets were jumping off the turbolift and racing
across the launch deck towards the Rising Star Shuttle.  They stopped
short as they saw Pelias strolling obliviously towards them.  The three
women stood abreast as they watched recognition flicker across his
features when his gaze settled on them.  His languid stride slowed even
further.
     "Hello there, wingman." Jada smiled icily.  She stood flanked by
Kyna and Kefira.
     "So, did Dr. Salik forget to remove the anal probe during your
prostate exam?  Is that your problem?" 
     Pelias could feel his jaw muscles begin to twitch as he considered
the three very angry women before him.  He knew he was late for class,
but as Feo had pointed out, that was irrelevant now.  Lords, he wished
his uncle would hurry and clear things up with Commander Adama.  How he
yearned to be present to see Starbuck and that she-devil, Deitra, get
dressed down by Colonel Tigh for their treatment of him. 
     "You have the pedigree of an inbred daggit, Jada." Pelias told her
acerbically. 
     "Yeah, well, I'm hardly your type anyhow.  I'm not mechanized or
inflatable." Jada returned calmly.
     "I swear she gets more likeable with every micron," Kyna commented
to Kefira who nodded her agreement.  "Listen, you spoiled little Daddy's
boy..."
     "Uncle's..." Jada and Kefira corrected her with a grin.
     "Oh, I have a good idea that Daddy started it." Kyna rolled her eyes
at them.  "We have a bad feeling that you don't grasp the concept of a
group mark, Pelias.  Now, either you get in line with the rest of us or
we're going to make your life hotter than Hades Hole." Kyna stepped
forward until she was almost eye-to-eye with him.  Unfortunately, it lost
some of the effect when she stood on her toes.
     Pelias snorted in her face.  "Don't waste my time," he replied
derisively.  "You don't understand that there are two sets of rules in
this life.  One for people like you and one for people of distinguished
lineage."
     "You heard Lieutenant Deitra.  The preferential treatment is over,
Pelias." Kefira told him.
     Pelias chuckled.  "Perhaps she can recite that to herself while
she's helping to fertilize the agro ships.  Now, get out of my way or
I'll report you to our commanding officers for assault and intimidation."
     The women held fast as if they were a defensive force protecting
their positions.  "We're not stopping you, Pelias.  Nothing to report
here.  Just walk around us." Jada told him as her dark eyes stared into
his, daring him to act.  She would strip naked and run laps around the
launch bay before she'd be intimidated by a snitrad like Pelias.
     Pelias raised his hand in frustration as he glared at the defiant
woman.  Oh, how he'd like to slap that smirk off of Jada's face.  His
hand actually tingled with the desire to strike her.
     "You touch her and we'll all deck you," Kyna promised him.
     "You deck me and you'll get thrown out of the program." Pelias
rejoined.
     "It will be worth it." Kafira informed him seriously.
     Pelias lowered his hand slowly.  He could feel sweat beading on his
brow from his tension.  "It doesn't matter.  In the end, I'll win. 
You'll see."
     Jada grinned.  "Oh, you'll get it in the end all right, Pelias. 
We're sure of that."  She could swear her foot was itching with the
temptation of a good, swift kick in the astrum.
     Pelias glowered as he stepped around them and strode briskly to the
turbo lift.  He could hear their laughter resound across the bay.  It
didn't matter.  He would have the last laugh.

* * * * *

     Pelias strode down the corridor and smiled as he caught sight of
Deitra heading in the opposite direction.  Of course, the Lieutenants had
probably thought they would get a reprieve before beginning their class
again.  After all, those three tramps were poised to take a shuttle to
the Rising Star to track him down.  He chuckled as he imagined himself
sitting coolly in the classroom when Deitra returned and patiently asking
where everyone had gone.  Oh, that would get her panties in a twist!
     Pelias was still wearing the smug grin as he stepped into the
classroom, but it flew like a startled avian as he saw Starbuck sitting
in front of the desk with his feet resting on it.  
     "Welcome back." Starbuck said as he put down the data pad and
studied the cadet.  "Seems you're late. Again."
     "Sorry...sir." Pelias returned briefly.  He sauntered over to the
tables and raised his eyebrows as he noted their new positions.  "What's
this?"
     Starbuck raised his arms and linked his hands behind his head.  He
calmly waited with an expectant expression.
     Pelias sighed.  "Lieutenant Starbuck, why have the tables been
rearranged?"
     "You've been paired with Jada as her wingman. You'll be sitting with
her, Cadet."
     "Her wingman?" Pelias glared at Starbuck.
     Starbuck couldn't suppress his grin.  "Kind of ironic, isn't it?"
     "Do you really think you're going to get away with treating me like
this?" Pelias walked over to the desk.  He was so damned tempted to kick
Starbuck's chair out from under him.  Again, the Lieutenant was balancing
it precariously on two legs.
     "You mean like the other cadets?" Starbuck asked lazily.  "Do you
have a problem with that, Cadet?"
     "Yes." Pelias put his hands on the desk and leaned down to stare at
Starbuck.  "I can assure you that Sire Feo, honourable member of the
Council of Twelve, will be speaking to Commander Adama posthaste
regarding my treatment and my inclusion in this class of misfits."
     "Good." Starbuck replied coolly.  He slowly swung his feet off the
desk and stood up.  He placed his hands on the desk and leaned across so
his face was millimetrons from Pelias.'  "Then the Commander can clear up
this ridiculous idea you seem to have about how we do things here on the
Galactica.  Cadets who deserve to graduate do graduate. It's as simple as
that. Commander Adama doesn't pander to your blue blooded theories on
your right of succession. Do you really think he wants your lazy astrum
defending his grandson or making decisions that could get the boy
killed?"
     Pelias faltered as he looked into Starbuck's eyes. The Lieutenant's
gaze was locked on his as though he was taking aim and shooting to kill. 
However, Pelias had been raised to manipulate people to his way of
thinking...or at least to instill a measure of doubt in their argument
and he wasn't prepared to give up yet.  "Sire Feo has socialized with
Commander Adama for many yahrens.  I think he knows his mind better than
a mere Lieutenant in the service." He scoffed at Starbuck.
     Oh, to be able to wipe that smirk off of Pelias' face!  Starbuck
slowly smiled at Pelias and shook his head.  "I've served under Commander
Adama for almost a deca-yahren.  I've seen the way he treats people and I
know he believes firmly in discipline, duty and responsibility.  There is
no room for spoiled children in Adama's ranks, Pelias."
     "You sound very sure of yourself, Lieutenant.  But then, I hear
you're a bit of a card player, and as such, you can probably tell a
convincing lie." Pelias guessed.
     Starbuck sniffed in derision.  In truth, he only hoped that the
Commander was up to a confrontation with Feo.  Adama had been to Hades
and back after being charged with Major Dorian's thirty-yahren-old
murder.  Add to that, Sheba's altercation with Tabor, Apollo's
turbo-flush exploding, and then Boxey's apprehension and subsequent
injuries, the last thing their old man would need would be a visit from a
bureautician demanding privileged treatment for his precious heir.  Then
again, Adama was from a distinguished bloodline himself.  How well did
Starbuck truly know him?  Maybe Adama would surprise him?  Hades, Adama
had been one of the only constants in his life in his recent yahrens. 
He'd be very disappointed in him if that was the case.  He must remember
to tell him that.
     "There are very few sure bets in life, but Commander Adama is one of
them, kid.  You'd best remember that."  Starbuck replied evenly.  "I told
you once before and I hate to repeat myself.  Shape up or ship out.  I
want you to take your seat and keep your festering gob shut unless you
have a reasonable question.  You will treat your instructors and fellow
cadets with respect.  You will work as a team with you flight leader and
other cadets and then maybe you will survive this little course.  I don't
want to hear another mention about Sire Fee Fie Foe or anyone else you're
related to.  I don't give a rodent's astrum about that.  I just want to
know you can do your job well and you're not going to endanger your
fellow Warriors." Starbuck stepped closer, glowering down at Pelias with
a face like a killer in a dark alley. "If you can't do that you'll end up
back on your civilian ship so fast they'll think I sent you through the
launch tube.  Do you understand?"
     Pelias watched the man's face carefully through his entire speech. 
Starbuck didn't hesitate or flinch.  Either he was very good, or he spoke
the truth. 

* * * * *

     Sire Feo was not as well prepared for this particular encounter as
he had hoped to be.  He had stopped by his neighbor's quarters before
departing for the Galactica, but Sire Antipas was not as helpful as Feo
had hoped.
     It had seemed a natural decision to seek Antipas' assistance when he
was going up against Adama.  After all, Antipas' machinations were an
example of bureaucratic artistry at its finest.  The man had the tongue
of an angel and the soul of a demon.  Feo admired him greatly.
     Of course, the other reason Feo sought Antipas' help was he was too
damn lazy to do the research himself.  He needed something to motivate
Adama to see things his way.  Oh, Antipas probably had something on the
Commander, but as soon as he'd begun making his pitch to the Libran, Feo
got the sense that Antipas wasn't going to share it with his fellow
Council member.  Antipas had seemed strangely less energetic than usual,
as if his mind was preoccupied with something else.  Finally, when Feo
had finished, he had simply smiled and said, "I'm afraid you're on your
own.  I cannot help you." 
     Feo had really hoped to have an advantage over their illustrious
Commander.  Mind you, according to the scuttlebutt, there was something
happening involving Adama, he just didn't know the details.  Hmm, this
might work after all.  Adama wouldn't expect Feo to blatantly challenge
him anyhow.  That was simply not how it was done in their circle.  He
might be able to bluff his way through this encounter...as he had most
things in his life.
     "Enter." Adama's voice called as Feo signaled his arrival.
     Feo squared his shoulders, raised his head and entered the lair of
his rival.  Adama looked surprised as he saw who his visitor was.  The
expression was quickly controlled as he rose to feet and put a tight
smile on an obviously weary face.
     "Sire Feo, this is an unexpected...pleasure." Adama told him,
carefully trying to control his emotions.  The last thing he needed was a
visit from a Councilman, especially this one.  Feo would be there for one
reason only; he needed something.  At this point, Adama's energy had
waned completely and he had only wanted to decompress following his
absolution of charges in the termination of Major Dorian and the
subsequent death of Lieutenant Tabor.  Thankfully, Boxey was recovering
from his traumatic series of events, as only a resilient child could, and
his release from the Life Station was expected the following day.
     "Commander Adama." Feo nodded as he crossed the space between them. 
"I do hope I haven't disturbed you.  I know you must be in need of
some...solitude after your recent misfortunes."  Feo watched carefully
for Adama's reaction.
     Adama raised his eyebrows as he considered the pudgy, waxen-faced,
balding man before him.  He wondered if Antipas or Lydia had somehow
caught wind of his recent predicament  and had seen fit to share the
information with Feo.  Of course, Adama, Antipas and Lydia shared other
secrets, such as the true identity of Claudia, a humanitarian worker
aboard the Senior's Ship.  She had been tried, exonerated in a secret
tribunal, and absolved of any involvement in her husband's treasonous
activities.  Her husband had been Baltar, and to complicate matters she
was now involved with Chameleon.  Should her identity be uncovered, the
repercussions to Chameleon and by association, even Starbuck, could be
disastrous.  So how much exactly did Feo know?  Or perhaps this was a
bluff?  Adama narrowed his eyes almost imperceptibly as he studied the
man in front of him.  Lords, but he was truly too tired to be playing
these bureaucratic games right now.
     The Commander had spent much of the day reflecting on how the
secrets of his past had come back to haunt him, especially where Dorian
was concerned.  Not only had his past decisions caught up with him, but
they had endangered his family.  He had discovered a lump in his throat
every time he thought of what could have happened to Boxey if he had not
landed on the thickly padded alien shuttle and had instead plummeted to
the hard deck far below as had Lieutenant Tabor.
     "I assume you're referring to my grandson's recent fall." Adama
returned.  He noticed a slight tightening around Feo's mouth.  That was
not the response he had hoped for.  "Thankfully, the Lords have been
gracious and he is expected to make a full recovery.  I do appreciate
your concern, Sire Feo."
     "Well, as you are aware, I am also a family man, Adama." Feo smiled
gently as his opponent provided him the perfect opening to discuss
Pelias.  "In fact, it is my concern for my nephew that has delivered me
to you at this difficult time.  Of course, I would have left you to
reflect on your own...difficulties, shall we say, if it was not of the
utmost urgency that I speak to you." Feo nodded empathetically at their
shared concern for their families.
     Adama realized he must be truly exhausted as he could not discern
whether Feo really knew something and was attempting to subtly threaten
him...or was so full of felgercarb that he could fertilize the agro ships
for the next yahren.  He took a deep breath and broached the topic that
Feo obviously wanted to discuss.
     "Pelias."  Adama nodded as he recalled the tortuous meeting of the
Council of Twelve where the young man had been discussed at length.  "I
believe the Council agreed he was to be given another opportunity to
prove himself with the assistance and specialized attention of the deputy
squadron leaders."
     "Yes, but apparently Lieutenants Starbuck and Deitra have
misunderstood how Pelias is to be handled." Feo informed him, slightly
relieved that Adama recalled the event.
     "How so, Feo?" Adama asked, truly curious.
     "He has been placed in a squadron with three baseborn females and
has been informed they are to be graded by a group mark." Feo protested,
while trying to control the fury that rose within him at the mere thought
of his heir's treatment.
     Adama stared at the aristocrat.  He blinked as he realized that Feo
was asking for preferential treatment for Pelias.  Certainly, he was
aware of the tradition in Colonial Society, but that had been a vastly
different time and place in which inane desk jobs and ceremonial duties
were plentiful.  Personally, Adama had never agreed with the tradition
and had only contempt for the blue blooded individuals that felt it was
their privilege to hold office or rank based purely on birthright. 
Despite his own aristocratic ancestry, Adama had earned his position and
had proven he was worthy of the ultimate responsibilities he was given. 
He was proud to say that his own children had done the same.  "And what,"
asked the commander, measuring his words to maintain the tentative hold
on his composure, "would you have me do?"
     Feo's face went red with frustration.  Apparently, Adama was a bit
more obtuse than he was given credit for.  "Isn't it obvious?  You need
to speak with your subordinates and explain to them that someone in
Pelias' position will not be subjected to the humiliation of working for
a 'group grade' with these commoners."  He fairly spat the last word in
distaste at the thought of what his nephew was being forced to endure. 
Surely, Adama would understand how inappropriate this was and set things
straight.  The Sire took a deep breath to ease his ire and graced Adama
with his most ingratiating smile.  "Of course, you of all people
understand that this was not what the Council intended.  Obviously, there
has simply been a miscommunication that I'm sure you won't hesitate to
correct.  After all..."  Feo paused to puff out his chest in confidence. 
"like you, I simply want what's best for my family."
     Adama stared unblinking at the man.  He wasn't sure whether to throw
him out on his astrum or to laugh at him, for his utterly ridiculous
misconception that the commander would ever...ever...compromise the
training of the Fleet's cadets to cater to some spoiled, soft... Had he
not been utterly exhausted and drained by the recent events, he would
have chosen the latter option.  But at the moment, the sight of this fat,
privileged councilman, oozing of sickly false compassion was just too
much...
     "Sire Feo,"  Adama began through gritted teeth.  "I most certainly
will speak with my Deputy Squadron Leaders..."  Adama paused as the
Councilman grinned from ear to ear.  "And I will most definitely inform
them..."  Feo was hanging on his every word.  Adama took a deep breath. 
"That they are to be commended for their superiorly creative approach to
handling this group of renegade cadets.  Group grade?  Brilliant! What
better way to instill in them the importance of working as a team."  
     "But..." Feo sputtered, his eyes wide.  "But you can't be
serious..."
     Adama narrowed his eyes and drilled the councilman.  "I most
certainly am serious.  What you proposed-- exempting a cadet from meeting
the training standards that I have established, training that could at
any moment decide the fate, not only of their own lives, but the fate of
the entire Fleet-- because you think that he is entitled to it simply
because of his blue-blood, pampered, spoiled upbringing-- is..."  Adama
pulled himself to his full height.  "Is beyond my utter contempt!" he
roared.  "Now, get out!  Out!"  He waved towards the exit as Feo, his
eyes bulging in shock, nearly stumbled over a chair in his haste to
leave.
     As the doors hissed shut.  Adama sank back into his chair, exhausted
beyond words, but, he managed a weak smile to himself.  Damn the
consequences.  Lords, but that had felt good!

* * * * *

     Lords, but he was ready for this class to end.  Starbuck rubbed the
back of his neck where an increasing pressure was building and climbing
up his skull.  If a cadet stepped out of line just once more, he was
certain the top of his head would blow off.  He took a deep breath as he
wondered yet again why the Gods had conspired against him to land him in
this predicament.  Oh right, that was you, pal, not the Gods.
     Deitra was winding things up with the pain-in-the-astrum cadets. 
Starbuck admired her patience and ability to remain calm in the face of
overwhelming idiocy and rudeness.  Ah, that described Pelias perfectly.
     Despite Starbuck's discussion with the obnoxious cadet, he had
persevered in making things difficult, especially where Deitra was
concerned.  It wasn't so much what he said, but how he said things, that
clearly communicated a disdain and disregard for his female instructor. 
On the other hand, Pelias was treating Starbuck with a smarmy respect
that made the Lieutenant want to race for the turbo wash after spending a
day in the man's presence.  
     To Jada's credit, she had shaken off her previous nonchalance and
applied herself to the lessons at hand, after returning with Kyna and
Kefira from their encounter with Pelias.  Starbuck could see a new
confidence in her, as she bantered with her recently acquired friends
while sitting beside her assigned wingman.  He recognized in her a need
to belong, which she balanced with a total disregard of Pelias' intense
dislike for her.  After all, she didn't like him either.  
     Even Kyna and Kefira seemed to be tolerating one another as the
three women united against their nemesis at every opportunity.  If it
wasn't so entirely justified, Starbuck might have felt the tiniest bit
sorry for Pelias, but frankly, the man had dug his own grave.  However,
the frequent digs directed towards and from Pelias were now constantly
disrupting the class.  Starbuck could see even Deitra was at the end of
her rope.
     "Enough!" Starbuck shouted as he stood up from his chair, knocking
it over by the violent motion that propelled him upward.
     All four cadets froze as they watched Starbuck glare at them from
where he stood with his fists clenched at his sides.  Even Deitra snapped
her mouth shut in response to his outburst.
     "Frak, I'd rather be training daggits to fly vipers!  What is wrong
with you people?  Don't you get it?  This isn't about three of you
ganging up on the other one.  This is about how you are failing to work
together.  Lords, Deitra, let's just call it a day and write these
useless excuses for cadets off as hopeless.  I've had enough.  I'd rather
go back to desk duty than spend another frakkin' micron with these
morons." Starbuck raved.
     Deitra turned her back on the astonished cadets to watch Starbuck in
action.  He was beautiful.  It was pure artistry as he stood there
berating them and insisting they weren't worth the spit or the polish on
his boots.  She didn't have to see them to know they had turned several
shades paler, as they contemplated their furious instructor, who was
determined to send them back to their playpens so he could focus on
helping serious, ambitious recruits realize their dreams, instead of
wasting his time with this lot.
     "Uh, Starbuck, maybe we should talk about this in the corridor."
Deitra suggested delicately when he paused to draw a breath.
     Starbuck sighed elaborately as his gaze flickered over the subdued
cadets.  Even Pelias looked like he needed a change of pants.  He nodded
at Deitra and followed her to the hatch, but not before directing another
disdainful glare at the nervous youngsters.
     Deitra closed the hatch behind him and considered him thoughtfully
with a wry smile.  "Very inventive."
     "But was it effective?" Starbuck asked as he leaned against the
wall.  "Frak, this is so much worse than I thought it could be.  I really
am tempted to just fail them all and move on."
     "Do you really mean that?" Deitra asked as she stood across from
him, arms crossed.
     Starbuck shook his head slowly as he reconsidered.  "No...the girls
will probably be fine.  Unfortunately, we're going to have one Hades of a
time trying to get them to work with Pelias.  Frak, I wouldn't want to
work with him either."
     "You know what really gets to me about Pelias?" Deitra commented. 
"He knows the answers to just about every question we send his way. 
Technically, his recall is almost perfect.  If he could just apply
himself, he might end up as an officer under his own momentum."
     "Possibly, but I knew a few guys at the Academy who could
practically quote the text books, but couldn't apply the information when
it counted." Starbuck replied skeptically.
     "I guess that's what Pelias has yet to reveal." Deitra returned.
     "Yeah," he agreed.  "It does rile that this guy seems to know it
all, but doesn't want to expend any unnecessary energy to excel.  It's
strange that the people who these things come easily to always seem to
appreciate it the least."
     Deitra smiled and nodded.  "All right, do you think they've had time
to reflect on their moronic tendencies in the playpen?"
     Starbuck grinned back at her, "A little over the top?"
     "Let's just say it wasn't exactly in the leadership guidelines in
the manual." She responded.
     "There's a manual?" Starbuck asked agog.
     Deitra shook her head in mock dismay.  "You're going to owe me a
cold one in the Officer's Club after this class, Starbuck."
     "Sorry, sweetheart.  I can't tonight.  Have to wash my hair."
Starbuck winked at her.  "Seriously, I have a few things I need to do
that have already waited too long."
     "Well, then, I'll just go to the OC myself and put it on your tab."
Deitra chuckled in return.  "Oh, and Starbuck, if you ever call me
sweetheart again, I'll shove you in an air lock with Pelias and weld the
hatch shut."

Chapter Two

     Pelias strode down the corridor angrily as he replayed in his mind
the last centar of the class.  When Starbuck and Deitra had returned, the
trinity of trollops had transformed into an obedient and attentive trio. 
Even Pelias had had his doubts about how much his uncle could achieve
after Starbuck had threatened to fail them all.  The young nobleman had
put on his best bureautician's face and had listened attentively to his
instructors, who, when they weren't being interrupted and heckled by
their students, had proven themselves to be informative and relevant. 
Pelias reflected that if learning about basic geodetic surveys was
something that actually interested him, instead of boring him into a
semi-comatose state, that he might have actually benefited from the
lesson.
     The truth was that if Pelias was still in the Colonies he would be
attending the Caprican Art Institute, instead of learning about observing
and recording astronomic and solar azimuth data.  Unfortunately, when his
cousins and older brothers had died in the Destruction, it had fallen on
him to hoist the family coat of arms high above his head and follow in
the footsteps of his ancestors, as had his forefathers.  Bloody Hades
Hole, but he'd rather be painting.  He sighed.  That was over now.  Oddly
enough, the Council had yet to reestablish an Art Institute.  No, their
priority was war, not virtuosity.
     He hurried towards the closest shuttle to the Rising Star.  He
really needed to speak with his uncle to find out if he truly had to
tolerate Starbuck and Deitra's draconian tactics, or if he could skip the
remainder of the classes and plan on early graduation with a subsequent
cushy assignment.  Perhaps he could become a liaison between the
aristocrats and the military?  Yes, then he could prevent the
preposterous reoccurrence of his own situation befalling other young
bluebloods.
     Pelias was still shaking his head as he thought about the following
day.  They were to begin a survival-training mission on Agro Ship One in
the Desert Environment Dome.  The cadets were supposed to meet Deitra and
Starbuck at 0800 centars at the Supply Office to get their equipment for
their adventure.  Pelias groaned inwardly as he thought about spending
three days with Jada at his side.  Lords, that woman was annoying.  
     "Pelias!" 
     Pelias turned in surprise to see Feo scurrying to catch up to him. 
The older man fairly waddled along as his legs became entangled in his
own flowing robe.  There was perspiration on his face from his unusual
exertion and he was flushed.
     "Uncle, I was on my way to see you.  What did Commander Adama say?"
Pelias asked eagerly, as he unconsciously smoothed his uniform as if to
somehow make amends for his kinsman's disheveled appearance.
     Feo stood panting at Pelias' side.  His quick eyes swept the area to
ensure their discussion would remain confidential.  He smoothed his
thinning hair back into place and pulled a linen cloth from his robes to
fastidiously blot his brow.  "I'm afraid we don't have the Commander's
support, my boy."
     Pelias stared at his uncle in shock.  Throughout his entire life,
either his father or uncle had been able to manipulate a given situation
to get him what he wanted.  Certainly, there was a slim possibility that
Pelias would have to toe the line, but the young man had simply not
prepared himself for it.  "What are you saying, Uncle?" he demanded.  He
suddenly felt a little lightheaded as the enormity of the situation hit
him.
     "If you want to succeed as a Colonial Warrior with a future in the
military, you'll have to knuckle down and do it the old-fashioned way."
Feo explained patiently.  After all, the boy had the brains; he just
needed to apply himself.  Certainly, he would prefer not to...that went
without saying, but in this case he would have to make an exception.
     "But..." Pelias stammered, "they can't treat me like this!  There
has to be something you can do!"
     "Alas, it is out of my hands.  I went to the very top, dear boy. 
While you are in your training, you will be under the authority of your
instructors.  As much as you dislike it, you will have to deal with it."
Feo returned a little briskly.  The insolent little snitrad didn't even
appreciate the effort or the humiliation his patriarch had suffered for
him.
Pelias closed his eyes and shook his head ever so slightly.  Deal with
it.  That was the best his patriarch could offer in this centar of
discontent.  The man didn't even appreciate the sacrifices he had made to
carry on in the family tradition.  Now he was about to spend three days
dealing with crawlons, serpents, extreme heat and discomfort to prove to
a couple uppity Lieutenants that he was able to be part of a team.  For
the first time since enlisting, he wondered if tradition was really so
important and just why he felt the obligation to endure the utter
felgercarb they were shoveling upon him.

* * * * *

     "Oh my God!" wailed Athena, as she loosened her grip on Boomer, his
muscles still taut beneath her fingers, his breathing still ragged. Her
head lolled back onto the sparse padding of his flight jacket, and when
she at last opened her eyes, she beheld the stars over them through the
transparent Celestial Dome. Slowly the rumble of the ship's main drive
penetrated her awareness, and she felt her own body begin to relax from
the waves of pleasure coursing through it. She closed her eyes again,
letting her heart slow and her breathing along with it. When she opened
them again, she saw Boomer looking at her, his eyes still alight with
hunger, but his face relaxed in contentment.
     "Well," he said, after a few moments.
     "Yeah," she replied, taking a deep breath. "Not quite the afternoon
we had in mind."
     "Oh?" He asked with a look of hesitant uncertainty.
     "Not that I'm complaining," she laughed. 
     Her laugh sounded magical in his ears, and he kissed her again,
stroking her thick, dark hair off of her forehead.  He could feel her
lips quirk beneath his and lifted his head to be included in the joke. 
"Hmm?"
     "However, I doubt the designers of this place would ever have
dreamed of it being used for this." She grinned up at him devilishly.
     "Who cares? Of course, if Apollo ever finds out..." Boomer's voice
trailed off as he studied her relaxed features so full of mischief...and
happiness.
     "Oh yeah," giggled Athena. "He'll have us both cleaning out thruster
nozzles on the Hegal until we reach Earth."
     "Without spacesuits," added Boomer, raising up on one elbow. For all
his professed liberal-mindedness, he knew just how old-fashioned the
Strike Captain could be at times. Especially when it came to his one and
only sister.
     Then, of course, there was the Commander...
     "Well, I don't care Boomer," said Athena, stroking his cheek with
her left hand. Lords, but he's handsome. Like a sculpted demi-god! "It's
how I feel."  It was so good to feel again.  Being felt again didn't hurt
none either, she grinned to herself.
     "I know, babe," replied the other. As a matter of fact, the
intensity of Athena's emotions surprised him no small bit. After their
unexpected consummation on Ki, they had agreed to "hold off" as it were,
to see where their relationship was headed. Had it been a mere rush of
emotions, in the face of what had seemed like certain and immanent
annihilation? Boomer had not realized how attracted to him Athena had
become, in the sectars since their narrow escape from the fire that had
nearly killed them in the suicide attack on the Galactica. It was not her
usual nature to wear her heart on her sleeve, especially after Starbuck
had so unceremoniously dumped her the way he had. She had kept her
feelings about Boomer well and truly undercover.
     Until one fear-filled night in a miserable cave on a planet called
Ki. 
     She had called him, a few centars ago. He'd been up in the Celestial
Dome, doing some routine maintenance and adjustments to the antique comm
gear, as per Apollo's request, and invited her to join him there. A
sexual encounter hadn't occurred to him, partly because they had kept
things pretty much on a "friendship" basis since Ki, and partly because
the Celestial Dome, closed in and full of electronics, hardly struck him
as a prime location for a lover's rendezvous.
     She'd wanted to "discuss things". At first, that had been all it
was. She'd talked about Ki, about how their respective duty watches
rarely seemed to mesh of late. (Partly due to Starbuck's being taken off
flight status, partly due to Sheba's recent absence from the flight
roster as well as the rosters having to be redone.) And, of course, the
recent events with finding the murderer and saving the Commander. But
she'd gotten into other things as well. Her feelings about family, about
her growing up and being known at school as "Adama's kid", with all the
fun and joy that implied. Her own confused feelings after the Holocaust,
and the loss of Starbuck, which she admitted was as much her own fault as
his.
     One thing that Boomer did not, and figured he probably never would
understand, was the female mind. His father had warned him about that at
an early age.  Sure, all those things had played a part in making Athena
the person she was today. Hades Hole, he had a lot of baggage himself, if
he cared to think back on it. His first girlfriend, and the bitter sting
of betrayal. The accident as a child that had nearly killed him. Watching
his father die in his arms at the hands of a doped-out street punk too
long without a "fix". Burying his mother at a young age. His own failed
attempts at romance. But how did all that sort of felgercarb fit into the
future? He and Athena needed to go forward from this point on, not dwell
on the past, and all the ugly...
     Then, she had stopped his reply by boldly leaning forward, and
kissing him. After a few moments, surprise was replaced by something
else, and before he was fully aware of it, the two were being held ever
tighter in the grip of passion. She was all over him, or perhaps it was
the reverse? In any event, several centars had passed by unnoticed before
reality settled back into place, and they lay still entwined, but spent.
     "So, what do you think we ought to do?" he asked her after a few
more quiet moments, taking her hand and kissing her elegant fingers
lightly.
     "Yeah." She replied watching him closely. A million thoughts seemed
to be running through her head at the same time.
     "Yeah? Kind of non-specific," he teased. "But I'm serious, Athena.
We need to decide what we're doing, where this is going. I mean if we
keep this up, Boxey's going to have a new niece or nephew to play with."
     "Well, actually that's not very likely," she said, turning over onto
her side. Admitting to him that she had started taking birth control on
their return from Ki made it sound like she had planned all of this. 
Then again, she had planned all of this.  Sort of.  At least in her mind.
She had found herself thinking about how she would seduce Boomer at the
oddest times, whether while on the bridge or working out in the fitness
center.
     "Say again?" Boomer asked, as he moved in behind her and pulled her
back against him.
     Athena paused as she thought about how to respond.  Oddly enough,
his powerful body stretched out fully against her had a way of
distracting her.  And that hand of his that was running slowly up her rib
cage towards her breast..."Hey, if you really want me to answer you, you
had better stop that," she replied lightly as she captured his hand in
her own.
     The sight and feel of her lithe and toned form just about made him
forget the conversation, but he bit his lip, and thought of cold showers
and prostate exams.     "Sorry," he chuckled. "No, I'm not sorry really,"
he admitted and he knew by the slight shake of her shoulders that she was
sharing his mirth.  "Are you saying you're using birth control?"
     Athena sighed and rolled back slightly to see his face.  Oh, she
could drown in those eyes.  "Yes.  When we came back I...wasn't sure what
to expect.  I didn't know what you wanted...I didn't know what I wanted. 
I just didn't want the complication of a pregnancy getting in the way of
figuring all of that out.  And yes, I'm impulsive. Like just now. I was
hoping for this sort of outcome today, I'll admit. I mean, it's been so
long since..."
     "Yeah, I know. For me too, babe." He was quiet a moment, choosing
his next words carefully, but she beat him to it."
     "It's just that I'm afraid, Boomer." Lord, that was as hard to admit
to Boomer as it was to herself.
     "Afraid? Of?"
     Athena looked at him tentatively. It was that same old fear that had
torn apart her relationship with Starbuck.  "Losing you. Of getting ever
closer, than maybe you go out on a mission, and never come back. Of the
uncertainty of relationships in the middle of war.  I just don't know if
I'm strong enough to go through all of that again." She could feel tears
prick the back of her eyes and blinked several times to ward them off. 
She had lost so many people; family, friends and...her lover.
     "Hey, Baby," he said, stroking her face gently, "remember, we're all
equally at risk, especially in this new region of space where we know
diddly about what's ahead. Any of us could be lost, any moment. But if we
are to have any kind of future, and I mean the whole Fleet, we have to
push forward doing normal things. Plant, in the hopes that we may get a
harvest, like the Book Of The Word says. It's...like in combat. Hesitate,
and you can evaporate. You know that as well as I, or anyone who's ever
been in a cockpit." He leaned down and kissed her gently. "And, I'm not
Starbuck, Athena. I'm not the sort to...toss people over when it gets to
close to the bone. Hate to talk about a friend and fellow Warrior like
that, but..."
     "I know...I..." she turned her head slightly and burrowed it into
his strong chest.  She really didn't want to be thinking or talking about
Starbuck right now.
     "You worried about it. Thought about it. Hey, even some of us
thick-skulled micro-brained male types can figure that out."
     "Really?" she laughed as she looked up at him again.  No man had
ever understood her like Boomer did.  Well, at least as much as any man
could.  Her face again grew somber.  "Yes, I couldn't help but think
about...all that felgercarb with him." She sighed. "Boomer, I guess I'm
just a bundle of contradictions at times. Sometimes, I sit there on the
bridge, fantasizing about you...us, when I should be paying attention to
work. Other times, I want to deny what I'm feeling.'
     "And what are you feeling, Athena?" he gently stroked her breast,
relishing the sound of her gasp. "I know what I'm feeling. And I'm not
talking about lust, either.' He looked up at the stars sliding by, and
took a deep breath. "I'm thinking about the future. Our future, Athena. I
mean, look...Apollo and Sheba. They're smart, looking ahead, no matter
what may come. The Cylons, the Ziklagi, another disaster with the Agro
Ships. Anything might happen, but they're still making plans."
     "Boomer?" said Athena, an uncertain smile crossing her face as she
took it all in.  She knew this would be the perfect romantic setting. 
Well, at least it was private and the view was second to none.  "Are
you...pro..."
     "Attention," came a voice over the speaker. Colonel Tigh's.
"Lieutenant Athena, report to the bridge, please. Lieutenant Athena,
report to the bridge."
     Athena growled something through her clenched teeth that would have
done Commander Cain proud, and got to her feet. Boomer tossed her her
uniform.
     "Some people have no sense of timing," he said, grabbing up his own
uniform.
     "Oh, I don't know," she replied, pulling her boots on.  Maybe this
interruption was a good thing.  Sure, she was hoping for some passion,
but she had not counted on a proposal.  She needed to give this some
thought.  "Your, uh, timing is great." She smiled an impish grin at him,
then headed for the hatch.

* * * * *

     One and a half sectars.  Yes, this trip was overdue - long overdue. 
Sure, he'd sent a message to him just as soon as he had been released
from the Life Station, after three days of treatments and grueling
physical therapy (was that a perverse gleam he had seen in the
therapist's eye every time he had started a session?) for his injured
back and knee, but that was vastly insufficient, at least in Starbuck's
mind.  No, he needed to see Copernicus, to talk to him, if possible, and
to do whatever he could to make his situation better.  The man had, after
all, saved his life. 
     And he would have visited him the day he had gotten out of the Life
Station, but Colonel Tigh had had other plans for him.  Although he was
placed on light duty for five days, he had still been immediately shipped
over  to the Orphan Ship, to complete his two-secton tour of duty.  It 
was an a assignment that he had received partly because he had missed a
mandatory briefing, but mainly because it, like so many of the ships in
the Fleet, sorely needed repairs and upgrades.  The tour of duty had been
worthwhile, he admitted, and something for which he would volunteer
without hesitation in the future, but it had left him with no available
time to visit Copernicus and his caretaker, Tarnia, aboard the
Sagittarius.  Thus, he had vowed to make that trip the day he returned to
the Galactica.  
     Well, first he had had to submit to one last torture session at the
hands of Dr. Paye to be declared 100% fit for full duty status, and then
Apollo, to welcome him back, had grabbed him as he had exited the Life
Station to inform him that they were on patrol in 30 centons.  As much as
the prospect of finally climbing back into a cockpit and blasting into
space thrilled him, it also nudged up his frustration level.  The trip to
the Sagittarius would once again have to wait.  Over another sectar, it
turned out, for this had been the patrol that had led to the encounter of
the nearly destroyed Zorhloch ship.  Thus, he and the others had been
fully occupied with what had culminated in a fierce battle between the
Galactica and the Ziklagi, with the help of their new Zorhloch allies.
     It was in that battle that Sheba's ship had disappeared and had been
feared lost.  As Starbuck replayed in his mind yet again that moment on
the bridge, when he had let his anger and frustration override all lines
of authority and military codes of conduct, the stubborn conviction that
he would change absolutely nothing only strengthened-- even though it had
landed him on report and restricted duty for a sectar, and even after
spending his first complete day with the rogue cadets.  Especially
Pelias.
     At the thought of that weasily, spoiled son of a...nephew of a
Councilman, he snorted and refocused on why he had boarded a shuttle
headed towards the Sagittarius, as opposed to relaxing in the O.C. with
Deitra and the other pilots.  Or engaging them all in a round of
Pyramid...or seeking out his favorite medtch, who he happened to know was
off duty, too.  Hmmmmm, and who'd promised to wait for him to return...
Starbuck grinned at the lingering thought of Cassiopeia bedeck in a
translucent, flowing gown, so silky as it slipped off her smooth
shoulders...Focus, old boy!
     He chomped down on the end of his unlit fumarello and gazed around
the shuttle; it was packed with an assortment of civilians and military
personnel, most of whom were awaiting the shuttle's first stop, the
Rising Star.  Few, he figured would be heading on to the Sagittarius,
which was actually the shuttle's only other  stop before returning to the
Galactica.  Starbuck sighed. The whole trip would take him 40 centons to
just get to the Sagittarius.  In the past, he would have just hopped into
his viper - after clearing it with Apollo, first, of course - and zipped
over to his destination in about 5 centons.  No longer.  Fuel shortages
and strict rationing had ended that, and although they had replenished
their fuel supply on Ki, the regulations had been tightened; vipers were
to be used strictly for duty-related assignments.  For personal trips,
now even the hotshot pilots had to wait in line for crowded shuttles,
just like the rest of the Fleet, as well as even Pelias and the other
blue-blooded aristo-rodent astrums... 
     Starbuck bit through his fumarello.  He'd have to thank Colonel Tigh
for this assignment from Hades, because it would be a true test of his
resolve - could he survive the secton with the wannabe cadet or would he
land in the brig because he had plastered the snitrad's face across the
flight deck?  Yes...he could just picture Tigh laughing every time he
thought of the lieutenant's situation.
     As predicted, when the shuttle docked at the Rising Star for 10
centons, all but three people filed out.  No one boarded.  Given that it
was only 1900, it was hardly surprising; no one left the luxury liner
that early.  Starbuck let out a long, slow breath as the shuttle launched
again, finally on its way to the old, rickety Sagittarius, not too
affectionately known to some as Old Saggy.  Kind of the opposite end of
the spectrum when compared with the Rising Star.  
     Was it getting hot in the shuttle?  Starbuck wiped at his moist
brow, but his forehead felt cool.  Starbuck suddenly realized that his
heart was thumping against his chest.  Frak, he felt like a cadet faced
with his first patrol.  Why in Hades was he nervous?  This was
ridiculous.  Yet... he knew why.  The last time he had been on the
Sagittarius, he had been seriously injured by a panicking mob, following
an explosion on the ship - a deliberate act of sabotage--  and then faced
with the madman, Sherok, who had been intent on offering the lieutenant
up as some sort of sacrificial ovine.  Starbuck would not admit it, not
even to Cassiopeia (or especially not to Cassiopeia...), but he had been
having night terrors about the incident.  The gaunt, sickly face with
penetrating eyes that send shivers through the soul.  The man's
determined look as he ranted on about salvation and such, as he had stood
above the helpless, injured Colonial Warrior.  The long, evil-looking
blade of the dagger that he had drawn above his head, intent on plunging
it into his chest--
     Starbuck shook the thought from his head as a shiver ran through him
and forced himself to look around the shuttle, to study the three other
passengers - anything to divert his mind from the vision.  Why should it
bother him, anyway?  He had flown into basestars, taken on 10 Cylons at a
time, dropped into the heart of a Cylon city.  That had never bothered
him.  Why should this--
     Stop!  He studied his broken fumarello, wondering how it had become
so crushed, then realized he had squeezed it in his fists.  Frak...He
tried to concentrate on guessing why the other passengers would be
heading for the Sagittarius.  One was obviously a technician who had
completed his work for the day.  The other two were a father and his
young son, presumably.  The boy looked to be about Boxey's age, and
perhaps he attended Instructional Periods while his father worked
as...maybe a maintenance worker or custodian, from the look of his hands. 
The boy lay dozing with his head tucked against the man's shoulder.  The
other gently stroked his son's hair and was humming, Starbuck realized. 
A moment of serenity midst a life of uncertainty and sometimes chaos. 
     Something I never got. Lucky kid.  
     The lieutenant gazed at the pair for a moment and chewed his lip. 
The one subject that he was trying desperately to avoid was about to
break through his defenses. Like father, like son, Starbuck thought
bitterly; I'm avoiding it, or denying it, or so Boomer and Apollo and
Cassie and even the commander keep telling  me.  And you know what? 
They're damned well right.  Just what I am supposed to think of a man
that won't admit that he's my...Hades, if I'd knocked up Athena, or
Cassie, or even Aurora, I'd at least have acknowledged it.  Starbuck
closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.  Father. Chameleon is my father. 
There, he'd said it.  Or at least thought it.  And sure enough, along
with that thought came a rising fury about the lie.  The Lie. The. Lie. 
Why?  In the name of the nine Lords of Kobol...why?  Perhaps you should
ask him, a part of his mind reasoned.  Perhaps.  Perhaps it was time. 
Maybe. Now don't get too hasty, Bucko.
     Before he could talk himself into - or out of - taking that step to
contact Chameleon, a docking bell signed their arrival at the
Sagittarius.  Saved by the klaxon!  He followed the other three off,
watching as the man nudged his son awake and guided him out.  As he
stepped out onto the deck, he paused for the briefest of moments,
pondering what lay ahead.  He would be meeting Tarnia in the Commons Area
in - he glanced at his chrono as he started walking - 45 centons, but
first, he needed to talk to someone else.  
     He had figured that he could killed two avians with one spear and
had arranged to meet them before Tarnia arrived.  He inhaled, then
exhaled slowly.  He had not seen  nor spoken with Mairwen since that
fateful day, either.  In fact, he did not know  if she was even aware of
what had happened to him after he left her quarters.  He supposed he
would find out, once she arrived.  He did owe her, though.  She had
convinced him to see the situation with Chameleon through Cassiopeia's
eyes, to see how she had been trapped by circumstances.  Trapped by
Chameleon's cunning - stop.! 
     He chewed his lip. Maybe he did need to see the old man.  He wanted
to hear his explanation of how he could lie about something like this,
and then persuade Cassie to lie for him, too.  Yeah, he wanted to hear
it, needed to hear it...before he decked him one.
     "Hey, Starbuck!"
     The excited voice broke through the lieutenant's musings.  He looked
up to see that he had entered the Commons without even realizing it. 
There were few people about at the moment, he noticed.  A couple dressed
in bridge uniforms, a man in a non-descript robe, and the huge
maintenance worker, Lou, that he had seen on his previous visit.  The
huge black man, wrench over one shoulder and tool-belt jingling, tipped
his hat to the ladies, and passed Starbuck on the way out, giving the
Lieutenant a nod. 
     Without missing a beat, though, Starbuck spread his arms to catch
Cassy as she leaped at him, her eyes bright with joy.  He pulled her
tight in an ursa hug and swung her around.  The girl squealed with
delight.  
     "Hiya, Cass,"  He gave her a kiss on the top of her blonde head 
before plopping her back down.  "How's it going?"  He glanced up to see
Mairwen, her face calm and a slight smile on her lips,  waiting quietly a
few steps away.  
     "Great!"  shouted Cassy as she scampered up onto a bench.  Starbuck
noted that she appeared to be wearing a new dress and held a new doll,
which she whipped around by the arm.  
     "She's right," said Mairwen as she sat down next to her daughter. 
"Things are going much better, now that I've got the job at the java
stand.  Siress Belloby has been wonderful with Cassy.  Almost like an
aunt, really."
     "I don't doubt it. Starbuck said, grinning.  He propped a foot up on
the bench and leaned on his knee to gaze at the two; they both looked so
much happier than when he had first encountered them aboard the ill-fated
Spica.  One small victory, but it felt *good.*
     "How are you?" Mairwen asked, studying the lieutenant.  "How's your
knee...and your back?"
     "Ah, so you knew.  I'm fine now.  Have been for a while."  He
narrowed his eyes.  "How'd you find out about my back?"
     Mairwen smiled.  "Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Boomer stopped in to
see me the day after the riot, to make sure that we were okay.  They told
me that you'd been injured but didn't give a lot of details."
     Starbuck sighed, pursing his lips.  "Suffice it to say that it was
not a fun incident," he said at length.  He gazed at his fingers,
suddenly at a loss for words as intrusive memories tried to impinge on
their reunion. 
     Mairwen did not fail to notice the dark shadow that  had passed over
his face.  "They said you got mixed up with that madman, Sherok...are you
sure you're okay?  He gave me the chills."
     Starbuck flashed her a big grin. "I'm fine.  And--" he pulled an
envelope from his flight jacket.  "I want to thank you for helping me
that day.  I owe you--"
     "No you don't!"  Maiwen protested.  "You've done so much for Cassy
and me.  I can't even begin to repay you."
     Starbuck snorted.  "I'll call it even, then.  Because you really
helped me screw my head back on straight where Cassiopeia was concerned."
     "So...things are okay between you and her?"  Mairwen's smile
waivered as she  studied his face again, this time fighting back a sudden
desire to *not* know the answer.  She inhaled and pulled Cassy close,
hiding her reaction as she kissed her daughter's cheek. 
     Starbuck was oblivious to her momentary discomfort, however.  "We
are more than fine," he stated with a grin.  He held out the envelope. 
"Here.  It's four passes to the Rising Star and four vouchers for dinner
in the Astral Lounge - full meal compliments."
     Mairwen stared at the lieutenant, her mouth hanging open.  "How did
you...?"  She shook her head in disbelief.  "You didn't have to!"
     "No, but I wanted to it.  Let's just say that I have my ways.  I've
been stuck doing some desk work lately, and I had to put my time to good
use, somehow."  When  Mairwen frowned at him, not understanding.  He
said, "Don't ask.  Just enjoy them."
     "Okaaaaay."  She gave him a dubious look, then surprised even
herself by jumping up to hug the lieutenant.  "Thanks," she whispered,
blinking back the tears that threatened to flow.  "Thank you for
everything."
     Starbuck returned the hug then pulled back.  "No big deal."  For a
moment, he watched Cassy, who was climbing up and down on the bench,
flipping her doll around, lost in make-believe.  He nodded towards her. 
"That's all the thanks I need."  He turned to look into Mairwen's green
eyes.  "Let's call it even, okay?"
     She nodded.  "Deal."  She said, a bit  breathless, suddenly aware of
her heart pounding against her chest. Lords, he felt good...too good. 
"You'll still visit, won't you?"  She looked away as she felt her face
grow hot  - and then flushed even more when she realized that she was
blushing like school girl.  She turned her back to him  quickly to gather
up Cassy but listened attentively for his answer.
     "You bet I will," he answered easily, but noticed she seemed to be
avoiding his gaze.  . He stretched out his arms to take Cassy for one
last hug - and spin - then handed her back.  Mairwen looked suspiciously
self-conscious.  Oh frak, she wasn't considering him as a
prospective...no, don't be ridiculous.  After all, she was helping him
reconcile his problems with Cassie not long ago.  She was just a friend. 
Wasn't she?  "Take it easy, will ya," he said quietly as he watched her
closely while trying to figure out exactly what was going on. "And
contact me if you need to. Okay?" 
     "Okay," she said, nodding, taking a deep breath to regain her
composure.  She smiled warmly at him.  "And you take care, too.  Good
luck with Cassiopeia and--" she paused to catch his eye, now that her
face had returned to a more normal color.  "Your father."
     "Yeah, that too," he said, his smile fading as he watched the two
walk off towards their quarters. Great.  One more possible complication
in his life he wasn't counting on.  He pulled out another unlit fumarello
to chew on as he gazed around the Commons, looking for Tarnia.

* * * * *

     There were very few times in her life when Deitra could remember
really needing a long, tall, cold glass of courage, but this was
definitely one of them.  She strode down the corridor leading to the
Officer's Club with determination in her step and Sagittarian Ale on her
mind.  What a terrible day. Oh, how she regretted her daft little speech
to Starbuck about challenging her leadership abilities before she knew
what she was getting into. What a complete idiot you are, Dee. What were
you thinking?
     Damn, she took her career way too seriously at times.  She should
really take a page from Starbuck's handbook and try to relax a bit
instead of jumping up to embrace each challenge thrown her way. 
Starbuck.  She smirked as she recalled him jumping out of his chair and
blasting the cadets.  Now that was something she would never have the
guts to do.  You couldn't pull it off, girl, face it.  It's just not you. 

     She brushed her dark hair back off her face as she entered the noisy
taproom.  Most of the usual suspects were present as she headed towards
the bar.  She leaned against the counter and scanned the room as she
waited to catch the barkeep's eye.  The man was pouring drinks at the
other end of the bar and chatting up Brie.  Brie was doing the hair-flip
rounded out with the wide-eyed giggle and head-tilt.  Oh, it was going to
be a while before she received her drink.
     "Deitra, we don't often see you in here." Greenbean commented as he
leaned up against the bar next to her.
     "Well, sometimes a girl needs a drink." Deitra shrugged at him.
     "What's your poison?" Greenbean asked.
     Deitra picked up an imaginary glass in her cupped hand and toasted
him.  "Nothing so far.  Seems Assault 9 is busy."
     "ASSAULT!!" Greenbean shouted down the bar. He added a shrill
whistle for good measure just in case the barman from Proteus had missed
the first indication that someone wanted his attention.
     "Keep yer shirt on, Greenbean!" Assault yelled back as he made his
excuses to Brie and moseyed to the other end of the bar.  
     Greenbean ordered them both an ale as he picked at some nuts on the
bar.  "So, how goes the coveted assignment?"
     Deitra picked up the proffered glass from Assault and took a long
drink.
     Greenbean raised his eyebrows as he looked at her sideways.  "That
good, eh?"
     Deitra grinned as she lowered her glass.  "Oh, you were so wise to
let me take this one.  How did you know?"
     Greenbean took a gulp from his own glass. "Easy. Starbuck's been on
disciplinary duty and he was assigned to this. The Colonel is wa-y-y-y-y
beyond choked at him, so it would only follow that this duty would be
ugly."
     "Why didn't I figure that out?" Deitra asked morosely as she took a
slower, more cautious sip from her glass. It was sad that the diluted
brew was actually beginning to taste good to her after not having any of
the good stuff for several sectars.
     "You're poisoning your body with meat. Clouds your judgment."
Greenbean replied with a wry smile.
     "Lords, are you trying to convert me or something?  Next thing I
know, you'll be wearing a dress uniform and knocking on doors offering
samples of veggie protein on little sticks...complete with pamphlets."
Deitra teased him.  She was well aware that Greenbean was a vegetarian.  
     "I never hand out pamphlets. paper's too precious." he took another
sip. "Besides, it is a well-known fact that the Ninth Lord of Kobol was a
vegetarian."
     "Oh, so that explains why they fled Kobol!" she replied, stifling a
belch.
     "Is he pushing the veggies again?" Jolly asked from her other side
as he joined them at the bar.
     "I don't push veggies." Greenbean denied.  "I have been known to
dice them and serve them with dip, however."  He chuckled to himself,
knowing full well that the frequently discussed mystery meat in the mess
was textured veggie protein.
     "Dip? Well, if they come with dip, I might be willing to try them."
Jolly volunteered as he patted his ample abdomen. "The problem with veg
in the mess is nothing seems to be quite the right color. Dip is an
excellent solution."
     "Jolly always was a dip man." A voice claimed from behind them. 
Giles squeezed in between Deitra and Jolly.  "We went out to a dance club
once in Caprica City. Jolly seemed to like the dip.
'One-two-three...Dip!' Or maybe he was just a dip. I keep getting them
confused." He grinned the too-happy grin of a man who may have had one
drink too many.
     "Are you celebrating something, Giles?" Deitra asked in amusement as
she took in his flushed appearance.
     "I won the bet. Let me buy you a drink, Deitra." Giles signaled
Assault, who didn't appear to notice.  "Hey, Assault!" he shouted.
     "I don't think he can see you over the bar, Giles." Greenbean told
him across Deitra.  "I told you to bring the stepstool when you come to
the OC with the big boys."
     "Hey, Stilts..." Giles started.
     "Actually, I have a drink, Giles. Thanks though." Deitra
interrupted. "What was the bet you won?"
     Giles glared at Greenbean and curled his lip disdainfully before
returning his attention to Deitra...who was looking rather lovely. 
Funny, he hadn't noticed that before. "The bet about Sheba and Apollo.
You know, the one about their first big fight."
     Deitra looked blankly back at him and shook her head.
     "The bet was when they would have their first big fight, who would
start it, and who would apologize first." Jolly clarified. He sighed as
he breathed in the stale air that smelled of old ale, body odour and
smoke. Somebody was obviously tardy in changing  the air filters around
here. Still, he would have never believed he could appreciate that smell,
but after his recent experience on that Hades-hole called Boron-Din, he
found that even the simple experience of sitting here, gassing with the
other pilots, took on an intensity, a vitality, that he'd never known
before. The food tasted, the ambrosa hit, even the aroma of someone's
smoldering weed stung with an almost searing immediacy that only now did
he seem to truly notice. And the ladies...well, even the sound of their
voices made him feel glad to be alive, to savor the lyrical music that
was the female voice, and the sheer artistry that they were to look at.
He watched a gorgeous redhead, her name escaping him for the moment,
enter the OC, and cross to the bar. For a moment, he let himself revel in
the very sight of her; voluptuous and sensual in her movements without
seeming to even be aware of it. He envied Apollo his relationship with
Sheba, and for the first time in his life, began to consider what he was
missing.
     "Thanks," Jolly said, as Freeman, aka Assault 9, brought them all
another round of drinks. He let his gaze linger on the redhead a moment
longer, before tearing his mind away, and returning to the here-and-now.
     Deitra considered the drink that had been firmly placed in front of
her. Maybe another wouldn't hurt. Two was her limit though. "I hope Sheba
doesn't hear about this. She'll kill whoever set up that bet." Deitra
couldn't help the giggle that escaped her lips.  It was actually kind of
funny...in a completely immature male sense.
     Giles giggled along with her.  "Speak of the devil, where is
Starbuck?  I smell him, but I don't see him." He chuckled at his own
incredible wit. Funny that Starbuck, Boomer and Apollo were all
mysteriously absent from the club.
     Deitra shook her head. She should have known Starbuck would have
something to do with that bet. The eternal teenager. "He had some things
to do. Couldn't make it."
     "I hope he's finding us a place for the next big card game."
Greenbean guessed.
     "Ah, the mysterious rotating card games." Dietra commented.  It had
been a long time since she had relaxed in the OC with a couple drinks and
some totally inane conversation. Now, she felt herself beginning to get a
bit...happy. "So, how does a lady get in on a game?"
     "You play cards, Deitra?" Giles asked in surprise.
     "Oh, I used to dabble a bit." Deitra returned, enigmatically.  She
wasn't about to admit she used to be a dealer at the Oasis Chancery in
Caprica City.  It was a seedy little joint in the heart of the red light
district.  However, the pay was decent, the tips were great, and it
helped pay her way through school.
     "You want in?" Greenbean asked her grinning.  Fresh meat...uh,
veggie protein.
     "Absolutely. This isn't just for the boys is it?" Dietra asked. She
wasn't about to let them know that several of her fellow female pilots
also had a penchant for gambling and they had organized a sectonly game
in the women's billet.
     "We're an equal opportunity group of guys, Deitra", Giles assured
her as he stared into her eyes which were as dark as a deep abyss and
just as easy to lose yourself in.  Her hair was as glossy...frak, he
couldn't think of a good simile for that.  He took another drink and
signaled Freeman for another ale as he tried to hold Deitra's attention.
     Oh frak, Dietra thought as she watched Giles try to gain her
attention by smiling with all the charm and alacrity of a Piscon King
Serpent.  Oh, if only the piece of...what was that anyhow??... wasn't
stuck between his teeth.  Then at least it would be more tolerable. 
"Well, I might be able to get a few players from the billet if you give
us some notice." 
     "Notice?" Jolly asked. "Hades, Deitra, it's all about rushing off at
the last micron to a secret location to play a game of cards.  It
wouldn't be any fun if we gave people notice. Besides, that would be like
a predetermined omen that Colonel Tigh would find out."
     "Well, how can you know you'll be able to make it if you don't know
when it is?" she asked.  Men were definitely from a different gene pool
than women.
     "You don't.  You just drop everything else to make it to the game."
Greenbean responded matter-of-factly.  
     "Everything?" Deitra asked.
     "Well, except patrol." Greenbean replied.
     "And girlfriends." Giles added meaningfully with a wink.
     Deitra rolled her eyes at Giles. Lords, how come when you combined
testosterone and alcohol it turned into a lethal substance that turned
the nicest guys into the biggest equines astrums she had ever seen?  Mind
you, it seemed to have a similar effect on estrogen and alcohol
combinations, so maybe she wasn't being fair here. Yeah, it had been a
long time since she had unwound in the Officer's Club.  If Giles didn't
pass out soon, it would be a long time before she did it again.

* * * * *

     "Don't you think he should at least give it a try?"  Starbuck asked,
trying hard - and not quite succeeding-- to keep the exasperated edge out
of his voice as he glanced at the dark-haired woman who strolled next to
him down the corridor that led to one of the Sagittarius' maintenance
shafts.
     "I don't know," responded Tarnia once more, shaking her head.  "It
wouldn't be nearly as easy as you make it sound."  She stopped as they
reached the portal and tapped in an activation code. The shaft they were
about to enter led to the lower decks of the ship, and following the
incident with the Sherok and the Il Fadim, access to those levels had
been blocked by locking the hatches.  Only authorized personnel - and two
civilians - possessed the necessary activation code.  Captain Tovar, in a
demonstration of trust, as well as for the man's protection, had
permitted Copernicus to continuing living in his makeshift abode on Deck
F.  
     Tarnia swung the hatch open but paused, turning to face the
lieutenant.  "Look.  I appreciate your desire to help, and so will
Copernicus, but..."
     Starbuck let out a long breath and gazed at the ceiling.  Tarnia had
met him in the Commons Area only a few centons after Mairwen and Cassy
had left.  He had beamed at her as she approached and motioned for her to
sit on the bench.  She had raised her eyebrows at his obvious excitement
as he had informed her that he had some "good news" for Copernicus and
her.
     "What news?" she had asked, studying the lieutenant, who was
grinning like the Caprican feline. *  (*From an old Caprican folk story
called "Alyssa in Wonderland")
     Starbuck withdrew the fumarello that had been clamped between his
teeth.  "I have arranged," he said, waving his smoke as he spoke, "for
you and Copernicus to be transferred to the Galactica.  There's a
position in the Life Station available for you, and Copernicus could work
in Dr. Wilker's lab..."  his voice trailed off and the smiled faded into
a frown.  "What's wrong?"  he asked, gazing at the expression on Tarnia's
face.  Far from being excited, she looked...troubled.
     "I know you mean well,' she had said, "but I don't think it would
work."  Her face had flushed in embarrassment and she had stood and
looked away from him.
     "But this would be a chance for Copernicus to really apply his
knowledge."
     "Lieutenant--" Tarnia began, turning back to face him.  Her eyes
were clouded, he noticed.
     "Starbuck," he said, interrupting, "please call me Starbuck."
     "Starbuck," she began again, slowly, choosing her words, "I am very
grateful for this offer.  I know you must have worked hard to arrange all
this, but..." She shook her head slightly.  "I'm afraid you don't realize
just how difficult such a move would be for Copernicus."  She gazed into
his eyes and spoke softly.  "Did you consider that?"
     "I, well, sort of..." Starbuck sputtered.  "I figured it might be a
bit difficult--"
     "Very difficult, is more like it," said Tarnia.  
     "But this could be a chance for Copernicus to show everyone just how
smart he is!"  Starbuck insisted.  "Given a real laboratory, who knows
what all he could do?  I saw how creative he was with just a pile of odds
and ends."
     Tarnia chewed her lip.  "You may be right, but Copernicus is happy
right now - happier than he's been in a long while. Asking him to change
all that is something that he will resist.  Strongly."
     "Well, can we at least ask him?"  Starbuck stood, as well, and held
out his hands, shrugging.
     "Yes, of course," replied Tarnia, motioning for him to follow.  "I
just don't want you to be upset if he turns down the offer, all right?"
     "It's deal," Starbuck answered, smiling again.  
     It took nearly ten centons to travel from the Commons Area to
Copernicus' habitat on Deck F, and throughout the trip, Starbuck and
Tarnia had repeated the same conversation.  He felt frustrated that
Tarnia would not be more insistent that her friend at least try the move
and the job in Wilker's lab.  After all, they could always return to the
Sagittarius if they so chose.  Tarnia, each time, had repeated that the
lieutenant simply didn't understand how difficult such a move would be
for Copernicus.  Finally, they had lapsed into silence as they approached
the man's habitat.
     As they rounded the turn in the corridor that led to the area where
Copernicus had made his abode out of a few blankets, crates, and an old
mattress, Starbuck was once again amazed at what he saw; if possible, the
man had even more piles of electronic gadgets and broken equipment, with
parts and pieces strewn about.  Copernicus sat on the floor with an array
of tools spread about and was humming and muttering to himself as he
tinkered with some device, holding it up for inspection, then making
another adjustment, then pausing once more to examine it.  Starbuck had
to admit that he did look quite content.
     Tarnia turned to face the lieutenant.  "Take a look for yourself,"
she said quietly.  "The whole reason he chooses to live down here is
because he can't handle dealing with people - the noise, the confusion,
the...unpredictability."  Her voice trailed off.
     Starbuck gazed at the man for a silent moment, watching him work.
     "You remember the incident in the Commons Area, don't you?" the
woman added.  "Most people don't even try to understand him."
     Starbuck, noting the bitter edge to her voice, glanced at Tarnia. 
"Yes, I remember," he said softly.  And he did remember - the service
worker shouting at Copernicus because he was too slow, Copernicus
screaming, lost, unable to deal with the situation, and Tarnia's
pleading, desperate look.  "But..." Starbuck gazed into the woman's
troubled eyes.  "Not everyone's like that, especially on the Galactica. " 
He watched her reaction, the fear and uncertainty that flitted across as
she seemed to once again consider the offer.  "I think," he said quietly,
"that you're almost as scared as Copernicus might be."
     Tarnia shrugged, not denying it.  "Why don't we talk to Copernicus
and see what he says."  With that, she motioned for the lieutenant to
follow once more and walked up to her friend.  
     Copernicus lost in his work, did not notice her.
     "Hey, Copernicus!"  Tarnia tapped him on the shoulder.  She glanced
at her chronometer.  "It's 2000.  Did you remember that I was coming?" 
She spoke loudly and distinctly.
     The man stopped working but did not look up.
     "I've brought a friend who wants to talk to you," she continued.
     Watching from behind, Starbuck saw the man's back stiffen, and the
device in his hand clattered to the floor.  For a moment, the warrior
thought that he was going to flee.  However, instead, Copernicus turned
slowly to stare at the lieutenant, unblinking, his face expressionless. 
Starbuck felt acutely uncomfortable, as if the man's gaze was a laser
beam, penetrating to his soul.  After nearly a centon, he shuffled from
foot to foot and grinned.  "Hi!" he said, at a loss as to how he should
react under such scrutiny.
     Copernicus frowned ever so slightly, as his gaze turned inward, as
if he were concentrating, remembering...or running a memory through his
mind like one might watch a vid.  Starbuck cleared his throat and was
about to say something else, when all at once, Copernicus hopped to his
feet, his face erupting into a broad grin. "Hi, Starbuck!"  Before the
lieutenant could react, he rushed forward and embraced him in a hug that
nearly pulled him from his feet and knocked the wind from his lungs.
     "Oof!" Starbuck struggled to wriggle free, then almost stumbled to
the ground when the man abruptly released him.  Steadying himself and
pulling at the bottom of his flight jacket, Starbuck took a step back. 
"Hi to you, too, Copernicus," he said at last.
     "You okay?" the older man asked, but didn't wait for an answer. 
Instead, he swung around and grabbed up the device that he had dropped. 
Shoving it towards the lieutenant, he said, "Tell me what you think."
     Starbuck took the object.  It was a compact cube with various
switches, lights, and a small keypad.  He studied it, turning it around
and peering at it before saying, "Uh, it looks great...what is it?"
     "It's a music synthesizer."  Copernicus took the cube back, punched
in a series of numbers and letters on the keypad, then handed it once
more to the warrior.  From a set of speakers on opposing sides came the
strands of a rousing orchestral piece that Starbuck vaguely recognized as
a famous work from Sagittarius.  Mouth agape, he stared at the device as
the music swelled and floated around him.  It was crystal clear, almost
as if the orchestra sat before him, playing.  
     Starbuck switched his gaze to Copernicus.  "This is
synthesized...and not a recording?"  he asked.
     "Computer generated," answered the man, grinning at the lieutenant. 
"The different instruments have been programmed into the device using
mathematical algorithms and precise equations based on the frequency,
pitch, and resonance of each.  Then, each separate sound is assigned a
programmable code sequence, whereby allowing the computer to precisely
replicate any sound.  Combinations of sounds are also given codes.  Thus,
provided the correct sequence is entered using the keypad, the computer
can duplicate any musical composition."
     Starbuck just stared and swallowed the "huh?" that threatened to
escape.  He blinked and managed to say, "Wow..." Then he carefully handed
the device back to the man.  
     "And I'm working on holoprojecting the orchestra, too. Here, let me
show you more!"  
     Copernicus started to grab something else from his pile of
electronics, but Tarnia caught his arm.  "Hold on.  I need to you listen. 
Listen, please."  She said distinctly.  
     The man stopped and turned to his friend.  He stared but said
nothing, waiting.  It was obvious that this was a routine: when she said,
"listen," he knew to concentrate on her words.
     "Starbuck has something to ask you.  That's why he's here,"  
     Copernicus switched his gaze to the lieutenant, and suddenly his
eyes reflected an anxious tension.
     "Well, I..." Starbuck wasn't sure how to broach the subject anymore. 
"I have an offer," he said at last.  It didn't help that Copernicus' gaze
now drilled right through him again.  "A question..."  
     "Go on," said Tarnia when the man said nothing.  Whereas someone
else would have known to use the pause to ask a probing question,
Copernicus just continued to stare.  
     "Would you be interested in working in an electronics lab on the
Galactica and having the chance to do real research?  It's not approved
yet, but I don't think it'll be a problem...if you agree to it."
     When Copernicus still said nothing, Tarnia leaned in close and
re-explained what the lieutenant had said.  Starbuck couldn't quite hear
her words, but he watched as the man's eyes went wide in comprehension
and his lips curled into a frown.  
     "No," he said at last.  "I can't leave here.  I can't.  I can't.  I
can't" As he muttered the words, he had begun to rock on his feet.
     Even though Tarnia had warned him, Starbuck was taken aback by not
only the man's refusal, but also by the look of...shear terror in his
eyes. 
     Hey!" Starbuck said.  "It's not even approved yet.  You wouldn't
have to move there.  You could just take the shuttle...frak."  
     He realized that Copernicus was not listening; he had sat down on
the floor, squatting on his heels, as he continued to rock and chant, "I
can't."
     Starbuck turned pleading eyes to Tarnia, who was watching her friend
and chewing her lip.  "Look, can you explain that it's just a...an
option?" 
     Tarnia was polite enough - or too worried about Copernicus-- to not
give an "I-told-you-so" look.  Instead, she sat down next to her friend
and started talking to him, quietly.  After several centons, he stopped
rocking and chanting and looked like he was actually listening to her. 
Several times, he shook his head vigorously.  Tarnia persisted, still
speaking so low that the lieutenant could not discern her words, but her
hands became more animated.  She was obviously trying to make a point. 
Finally, after nearly five centons, Copernicus gazed up at Starbuck and
said, "Maybe.  Maybe I can do that."
     "Do what?" asked a perplexed Starbuck to Tarnia.
     "He has agreed to at least visit Dr. Wilker's lab to see what he
thinks of it."
     Starbuck broke out into a relieved grin.  "Thanks!" he said,
"How...and why...did you manage that?" he asked, confused, given her
earlier resistance.
     "I thought about what you said, about me being scared," she said
quietly.  "And you're right.  I wasn't necessarily thinking about what
might be best for Copernicus.  I realized I was being resistant to
change, much like he is."  She paused.  "And I realized that you might be
right.  Maybe he could learn to do well in a place like a laboratory. 
But we'll never know if we don't try."
     Starbuck looked at Copernicus, who was waiting in silence, studying
the warrior.  "You'll love Dr. Wilker's lab," he said.  "He's got even
more electronic stuff than you have!"
     Copernicus furrowed his brow as he processed the lieutenant's words,
then all trace of his earlier tension evaporated as he broke out into a
smile.  "Does he?  Maybe I can show him my music synthesizer.  Maybe he
can help me tune some of the sequences which are not quite right.  If he
has a tone modulator, then I can..."
     Copernicus' words became an incomprehensible monologue, at least to
Starbuck, as he rambled on.  He gawked at him as the technical words
flowed from his mouth as if he were a professor giving a lecture on a
topic that was kilometrons above the warrior's head, by his reckoning. 
Maybe Wilker could understand him, but he felt like a primary school kid
sitting in a university class.  Starbuck shook his head and marveled that
this was the same man who, only moments ago, was rocking on the floor,
consumed by panic.  It was also difficult to remember, by watching and
listening to him now, that he had problems with auditory processing,
which was why Tarnia often had to explain spoken language to him, or it
took several microns to for him to comprehend even simple statements.
     "Incredible," Starbuck finally muttered.  He turned to Tarnia. 
"Look, I still need to talk to the commander...and to Dr. Wilker, but
I'll be in touch, okay?"  She nodded.  "It's getting late," he said,
glancing at Copernicus, who was still describing...something.  "I need to
get back."
     Tarnia tapped her friend on the shoulder several times before he
stopped in the middle of a sentence and turned towards her.  She
whispered something to him.  He nodded, and then gazed at Starbuck. 
"Goodbye.  I'll see you soon!"  He waved, then sank back to the floor to
continue his work.
     "See ya," Starbuck mumbled, but Copernicus was once again buried in
a pile of circuits and wires, oblivious to everyone and everything.

* * * * *

     Drowning. Drowning, being pulled beneath the surface as the swells
rush over the head and the current drags down, down, down. The crushing
pressure against the chest. Suffocating...but it is not water. Pulled.
Being pulled, pulled in all directions. Hands. Hands grabbing, pushing,
tearing. And arms. Elbows. Legs, feet, bodies. Bodies jolting and
jarring. Pushing, flailing against the maddening throng, helplessly,
futilely, for protection, to escape. The panic swells from within and
explodes into terror as the chaotic mass of angry, hysterical people
overwhelms. The frenzied, raging mob aboard the Sagittarius. The noise is
deafening. Senses scramble under a fierce barrage of pounding, kicking,
trampling, suffocating, crushing sea of bodies. A swirling human
kaleidoscope as the mind twirls dizzily. Then a sharp, blinding, piercing
pain rises with the deafening roar and crescendos into an explosion of
nothingness.
     Darkness. And cold, a cold that penetrates to the bone, numbing.
Trying to move, and a sudden, fierce fire burning through the center of
the back and radiating out through every nerve. A soundless cry of agony.
Gasping, gasping...the pain fades and eyes open. All is a blurry, greyish
black, shadowy...then tiny, flickering yellow flames break the darkness,
eerie pinpoints. The shadowy blackness floats, swirls...Fear swells with
the struggle to make sense of it, to comprehend, to regain control.
     A shape hovers above, a bearded face beneath a shroud, eyes
reflecting the yellowish orange flames. He desperately tries to look
away...But his gaze is locked, frozen, on the shadowy image above. The
face smiles, coldly, cruelly, as light glints off the long, jagged blade
that is poised to kill...Sherok, the madman, with icy, vacant eyes that
sear to the very core. Paralyzed, arms and legs cannot move; his eyes can
only watch, watch in a fascinated, terrified horror as a slow mirthless
smile spreads across the madman's face. "You will die." The voice is
cold, flat, mechanical. Human, but not. Gasping, short, panic-filled
breaths as the heart races. Sweat burns his eyes as it slowly trickles
down. His mind is screaming, "No!" But the words soundlessly choke in the
throat. A flash as Sherok slashes down, down - 
     And light explodes as eyes squeeze tightly shut. Breathing stops. A
deafening silence. A void...
     "Just wait! Just you wait!" 
     The face above him glares in anger. "Wait until your father gets
back!" She shakes a finger at him.
     He glances down at the shards of pottery at his feet and the bright
orange ball that lies amongst the ruins, then back at the face. He feels
his ears and cheeks burn and the tears well. His lip trembles and he
gulps, unable to hold back the sobs. It was an accident, he wants to
scream, but can't. He knew better than to throw the ball inside, he
did...and now he just wants to erase the horrible mistake that lies at
his feet. Her favorite pitcher, the one that used to be Granna's. Why?
Why'd it have to break? He hates her for yelling at him and he hates
himself. And he was NOT going to be around when his father gets home.
     He whirls and sprints out the door, running as fast as his small
legs will carry him. He'll run away, run forever. Out. Out into the
forest. He'll disappear. They'll never find him, never. Ever. The world
bounces as he runs. He hears her voice calling behind him, calling.
Fading. But he keeps running. Into the dark forest, through the thin
break in the brambles, over the bovine trail. His foot hits a fallen
branch and he stumbles onto his knees and palms. 
     The sting of the biting thorns stops his flight. He looks around at
the shadowy woods, listening to the suddenly scary sounds, the strange
hoots and cries. The lups...How could he forget?
     He turns, terrified, scrambling to his feet to run back the way he
came, but...it is too dark, now. He can't see the scraggly path. Can't
see the dim light from the setting sun. He screams. But the darkness
swallows up his voice. 
     It is black. Completely. He can see nothing. Feel nothing. Hear
nothing. Nothing...Nothing. Except a faint, rhythmic beat. Thump-thump,
thump-thump...
     A flash, blinding, ripping apart the blackness, followed by a
deafening explosion. Then another. And another. Until the night is ablaze
with cold, blue streaks of death, raining down as the world explodes in
hot, orange, searing flames.

     Lieutenant Starbuck awoke with a jolt, gasping, disoriented, the
dream a dreadful, frigid feeling just beyond his grasp as he jerked
upright. For several microns, he stared around in panic, until he
realized that he was in his squadron's billet. Breathing in gulps, he ran
his fingers through his hair and down his sweat-drenched face. He settled
back down onto his bunk, thankful that no one seemed to notice the
disturbance. It was a dream, Bucko, just a dream, just a dream...As he
stared at the bottom of the bed above him, as his racing heart eventually
slowed and the adrenaline ebbed from his system, a cold foreboding-- the
elusive shadow of the nightequa -- gnawed at his stomach. Sleep did not
return. 

Chapter Three

     The water hit Starbuck with an icy blast that he hoped would
reinvigorate him after a lousy sleep.  Every time he had closed his eyes,
his mind would return him to the series of unsettling images that
repeated endlessly from his nightequa.  Finally, he gave up and headed to
the turbo wash.  As he stood there thinking about just how much java it
would take to return the clarity to his brain, he became aware of a voice
intruding through the noise of the fine jets of water hitting him.
     "Huh?" Starbuck asked as he opened his eyes to see Boomer peering at
him.
     "I said, you have a message waiting for you, Bucko." Boomer
explained.  "It's from Chameleon."
     "What are you doing up?" Starbuck ignored his words as he readjusted
the water to a more humane temperature.  Boomer looked different somehow. 
He looked way too happy for any man at 0500.  "Did you get lucky or
something?"
     Boomer turned his back on his friend as he headed for another
station for his own turbo wash.  "Early patrol," he commented lamely as
he ignored his friend's other question.
     Starbuck grinned as he saw Boomer retreat.  "So...you and Athena are
heating things up?"
     Boomer's reply was a bar of soap that sailed through the air with
all the precision of a well-aimed laser blast, smacking Starbuck in the
chest.
     Starbuck laughed as the soap hit the floor.  "I guess that's a
'yes.'"
     "So...are you going to contact Chameleon?" Boomer asked.  Two could
play at this game.  Boomer didn't want to talk about Athena to Starbuck
just like Starbuck didn't want to talk about Chameleon...to anyone. 
Especially Chameleon.
     "I don't know.  Eventually, I guess." Starbuck answered and then
stuck his head under the hot water once more as he intentionally missed
Boomer's sage reply about the importance of family or some such
felgercarb.  He shut off the water in time to hear Boomer's final words.
     "...nothing more important in the universe.  You know that, don't
you?"
     "Right." Starbuck returned as he grabbed his towel.  "So...does
Apollo know?"
     "About Chameleon?" Boomer returned obtusely with a smile.
     "Athena." 
     "Why are you so certain that something's going on with me and
Athena?" Boomer asked him.
     "I am all-knowing and all-seeing." Starbuck replied, grinning as he
dried off.  
     "Then why haven't you talked to your father?" Boomer replied
watching Starbuck's grin disappear and an irritated scowl take its place.

     "I'm only going to say this once, Buddy, and I'll deny it if anyone
asks." Starbuck said evenly as he met his friend's searching gaze. 
"Athena is a wonderful woman and deserves that elusive thing we call
happiness.  If you hurt her, I'll be second in line to kick your astrum
all the way to Earth."
     Boomer watched Starbuck turn and, without uttering another word,
enter the bunkroom.  It had never occurred to him until then, that maybe
Athena wasn't the only one who had felt a great loss when their
relationship had ended.  It was ironic that in a conversation where so
little was said, he could learn so much about a friend.

* * * * *

     Deitra carefully balanced the overfilled extra-large cups of java as
she watched Starbuck approach the Supply Office.  He looked rather
distracted as he neared her, but his face relaxed into a smile of
appreciation when he saw the life-giving beverage in her hands.
     "My turn," Deitra told him.  She wasn't about to tell him that it
was her third cup that morning.  The two-drink limit she had imposed on
herself in the OC had somehow turned into a one-drink-too-many increase
as she sat relaxing in easy camaraderie and friendship with the other
pilots.  While she knew she hadn't over-indulged, she still felt a bit
lethargic from the ale she had consumed the night before.  Enough that
she wished she had stuck to her original self-imposed limit.
     "Thanks," Starbuck smiled as he took the java.  He wasn't about to
tell her that this was his fourth cup.  Chameleon's unread message had
been weighing heavily on his mind.  He wasn't sure why it was so
difficult for him to open the message when all it would have taken was a
tap of his finger on the control device of the squadron's messaging
system.  He had sat in front of the screen staring at Chameleon's name
and had become paralyzed by the array of emotions he was experiencing. 
Lords, how could something that he had hoped for all of his life turn
into something that he seemed so inclined to avoid?  Oh, you know the
answer to that, Bucko.  You're afraid of what he's going to say.  You're
terrified that you're the reason he didn't tell you who he was.  He would
read the message after the survival mission.  He was too busy to see
Chameleon right now anyhow.
     "Ah, Lieutenant Starbuck, you're back." Corporal Ximen said as he
walked down the corridor.  Ximen had been surprised when the Lieutenant
had shown up at the ungodly centare of 0600; impatient to organize the
equipment needed for a survival mission in the desert dome on Agro Ship
One.  It was unusual for Ximen to even be there at that time, but he had
decided to get an early start on his day and begin the tedious task of
doing his inventory.  Starbuck had cajoled him by convincing him there
would be a lot less to count after he collected the necessary equipment
for six adults on a three-day mission in a desert-like environment. 
There was also a discussion about Ximen joining the next rotating card
game which Starbuck had hinted might even take place in the Supply
Office.  "Everything is ready, Sir.  Just sign here."  Ximen handed over
his datapad and watched as Starbuck wrote his signature to authorize the
transfer of goods.  "There's a little something extra at the bottom of
the green pack which I think you might enjoy, Sir." Ximen whispered and
Starbuck's smile in reaction ensured the Corporal he would be included in
the next round of cards.
     "Well, this is a surprise," Deitra commented.  "We're ready to go?"
     "Yeah.  I was up early." Starbuck replied.  
     "Jolly's snoring?" Deitra asked.  Apparently, the man's snoring was
legendary.  At least, that was what she had heard from Greenbean last
night.
     "I swear the bulkhead was shaking from it." Starbuck replied with a
grin.
     "I think you're probably exaggerating." Deitra returned as Starbuck
gave her his most innocent Who me? look.  "Ah, here comes the first of
our eager students."
     "Good morning, Lieutenants." Jada grinned at them as she walked down
the corridor.  She couldn't believe that she was actually looking forward
to this, but it was going to be the first camping trip she had ever been
on!  Of course, the crawlons and serpents might put a bit of a damper on
her excitement when she arrived, but she had heard they tended to stick
with their own kind; therefore, she knew that they would immediately be
drawn to Pelias.  At least that was her story and she was sticking to it.
     "Mornin', Cadet." Starbuck replied.  Her enthusiasm was contagious,
probably because they hadn't seen any enthusiasm from any cadet since
this assignment started.
     "Kefira and Kyna are right behind me." Jada assured them as she
watched Deitra's eyes flicker beyond her looking expectantly for the
others.
     "Have you seen Cadet Pelias?" Deitra asked her.
     "No, but the advantage of that was I was able to keep my morning
nutrients down." Jada replied lightly.  She was also concerned that
Pelias was going to pull one of his hardheaded, half-witted stunts and
not show up.  "Ah, here they come."
     Kyna and Kefira were approaching the Supply Office about six paces
apart from each other.  It was obvious to all of them that the women had
once again been bickering.  Kyna's face was flushed and her green eyes
flashed with anger as she walked ahead of her wingman.  Kefira's face was
pinched from her chin to the tight knot in her hair, and Jada could
almost hear the woman's teeth grinding.  Oh, great, here we go again!
     Deitra gave Starbuck a sidelong look as she heard his sigh.  Time to
gather their resolve and begin anew.  She wondered how long it would take
for Starbuck to blow a gasket this time...even if it was just a ploy to
intimidate the cadets.  "Grab a pack, ladies.  As soon as Pelias gets
here we'll head out."
     Kyna nodded her response and Kefira murmured a "yes, Lieutenant
Deitra" as the two headed for their packs.  Once again they were
exchanging annoyed glances and the tension in the air was palpable.
     "Hey, did you two ever go camping on Virgon?" Jada asked, trying to
lighten the mood.
     "Camping?  Is that how you think of this?" Kyna asked, shaking her
head in amusement at Jada's perception of a survival exercise.
     "Sure.  We have tents and packs.  Did we bring any mushie-mellows?"
Jada grinned.
     "Damn, I forgot to mention the omission of mushie-mellows to Colonel
Tigh after the last survival test." Starbuck grinned at her.  He had to
give her credit; she was doing her best to improve the mood of her fellow
students.
     "Well, once again we raise the bar by surviving in a desert without
roasting mushie-mellows." Deitra replied wryly.
     "By the way," Jada interjected.  "Why in Kobol's name do we have a
desert dome on an Agro Ship?"
     "It's one of our efforts to preserve what we could from the colonies
in the way of flora and fauna." Deitra responded.
     "It's all about favouritism." Kyna grinned.  "I hear desert serpent
is a delicacy on Borallis."
     "Coincidentally, that will be your first assignment.  Catch enough
Black-Hooded Serpents for our midday meal." Starbuck teased her.
     "How do you season that?" Kefira asked, getting into the spirit of
things.
     "Well, you saut‚ it in a little Ta-kill-ya." Starbuck replied.  "So,
after you catch the serpents, we'll be learning how to distill alcohol
from the blue agave plant."
     "This mission is really looking up!" Jada gushed.  "I don't recall
this part in the course outline."
     "Well, sometimes you just have to wing it." Starbuck winked at her. 
"That's really what survival is all about.  Using all your skill,
knowledge, experience and instinct to remain alive when the odds are
against you."
     "I was hoping we could do better than remain alive after this is all
over." Jada interjected.
     "Well, it's really the best you can hope for." Starbuck replied with
a chuckle, which turned into a hearty laugh after looking at the
horrified expression on Kefira's face.
     "Oh, look, the sunshine of my life is finally here." Jada said as
she saw a sour looking Pelias heading their way.  "Good morning, wingman! 
Are you ready to catch some Black-Hooded Serpents?"
     "What are you blethering about now, Jada?" Pelias replied with a
sneer. 
     "Grab your pack, Cadet Pelias," Deitra interrupted, wanting to
prevent another battle between cadets before they had even entered the
shuttle.  "Let's move it out."

* * * * *

     "Patience. Patience," he told himself, as he waited to board the
shuttle in the Galactica's Beta Bay.  There was some sort of delay, it
seemed.  A minor mechanical problem, someone had said.  They'd have to
wait a little bit longer before boarding.  Part of him didn't mind, he
decided, as he leaned back in his seat.  It gave him a little extra time
to stu