"Starbuck's Lady"
           (By Sharon Monroe, writing as Sarah Whitney)

     It was a gentle landing, as crash landings go, after the ambush.
     When the Cylon's lucky shot opened his fuel tanks, Starbuck was
grateful he didn't immediately become history.  Relief quickly became
concern when he realized there was no way he could make it back to the
Galactica on the little tylium in his reserve tank.  All he could do
was continue to coast in one direction, conserving his fuel for an
attempted landing somewhere.  Luckily, scanners showed that a planet in
a nearby system was habitable.
     Apollo promised to be back in a few centars with a rescue shuttle;
there was nothing else he could do.  Starbuck went in for his landing.
     He made it, although his ship was more badly damaged than he'd
known, and smooth re-entry became a wild dive as his Viper nosed toward
the green surface.  He pulled the ship out of its dive with his last
scrap of luck and skill, blacking out somewhere in those final microns
as the gravity of the planet wrestled with the forces governing his
descent.
     But he survived.

                             * * * *

     From the moons in the sky, Starbuck knew he'd been out for
centars.  The star/sun had still been high when he hit atmosphere.  He
shouldered carefully out of the restraining harness and threw open the
slightly twisted canopy.  The bright moons illuminated the dark
green-and-gray of the foliage around him, and a strong scent of crushed
and bruised grasses hit him almost at once - a pleasant sight and
smell.  Starbuck's first breaths were a grateful thanks that he was
alive, addressed to whatever deity might be listening.
     Then he decided to get out of his ship.  The increased activity
made his head swim for a moment, but he climbed out onto the body of
the wreck without losing consciousness.  The side of his Viper was
rammed into a tree that now leaned at an acute angle; the small ladder
was gone - he'd have to drop off the nose.  He slid carefully off the
rounded side; his feet hit something solid, and his knees crumpled. 
With unexpected suddenness, the world went black as the Void...

                             * * * *

     Starbuck drew a deep breath, and knew he was waking up again.  He
savored the rich, living smell as it penetrated his lungs, and wondered
how long he'd been out.  Face down, he could feel the oddly mixed
textures of rich dark soil, fresh pliant grass, and broken branches
from the nearly uprooted tree scratching his face and hands.  He tried
to roll over and look up, but succeeded only in tangling himself still
more in the long, wiry weeds.
     With the mildest of oaths, he began to extricate himself from
their clutch.  He'd realized he'd have to be careful.  The world was
habitable, but he had no idea what else might live here, flora or
fauna, that could be dangerous to his fragile and already slightly
damaged human frame.
     Then he heard the laugh.
     He couldn't say afterward whether the sound had been a high
lilting trill, or a deep husky throatiness, or something in between --
but when he glanced up, he saw a woman standing in the shimmery
moonlight.  He'd have sworn that at that moment she was tall and
pale-skinned, with silver-touched fair hair.  Her face was mature but
unlined; her eyes were a shadowy green, colored like the plants at her
feet; her figure was slim and supple-looking, somehow perfect, too
young for those eyes.  She seemed almost fey in the odd light, and the
soft breeze that suddenly shifted her nearly transparent tunic about
her hips added to the illusion.  Her long hair blew in moonbeam
tendrils about her oval faced and bared white shoulders as she glided
closer to him.
     For a moment, he couldn't speak; his breath had been completely
stolen away.
     She stooped in a smooth motion, extending a hand.  The gesture was
regal and almost condescending.  He immediately felt like a clumsy oaf
who'd just tripped in front of  princess in a royal procession.
     "Lords, you're lovely!" he exclaimed.  Close up, she was even more
intoxicating than at a distance.  Her smile dispelled his momentary
abashment.  And the whiff of perfume he caught from that smooth, pale
skin...
     He took her hand, and was able to rise.  Leaning against his ship,
he brushed away the last weeds tangled around his legs and arms with
her help.  Every touch sent a thrill through his nerves.
     "Uh, who are you?  Where'd you come from?"  *If she's a sample of
the native life on this planet, I may not want to leave!*
     She might have been reading his mind.  She flashed a brilliant
smile as she laughed again.  Her voice was rich and melodious when she
spoke.  "Call me Tyche.  I'm not native to this planet, if that's what
you're wondering.  I'm here on a mission."
     *A mission?*  Then she represented some people, a civilization of
some other world...
     "I'm Starbuck.  I *didn't* come here on a mission.  How do you
do?"
     She giggled in response.  "I have always done quite well, thank
you, Starbuck.  But you've had a trying day, I would guess.  Come, my
camp's not far from here, and you can rest.  I've been prepared for
your arrival."
     "Prepared?  What d'ya mean, prepared?  *I* didn't even know I was
coming here!" he declared in astonishment.  *What in hades is she
talking about?*
     "Perhaps I should say that, having seen your ship enter the
atmosphere, and determining its location, I prepared for the
eventuality of survivors before I came looking for you."  From any
other woman, the words would have sounded like a lame excuse.
     A light cloud scudded before one of the moons, and the sky
darkened.  Her hair seemed to lose some of its luster, and her
pale-skinned face took on a pallid hue for a micron.  The breeze picked
up, and a chill settled on the warrior.
     "That makes sense, I guess," he admitted.  His momentary suspicion
was lulled. It was only logical that a star-rover on a mission to some
odd planet would be prepared for anything, able to deal with an abrupt
change in circumstances, like an unexpected guest.
     "Come!"  She led the way, wading through the rippling waves of
thick grass that rustled at her passage.
     Starbuck followed.  The tough weeds tugged at his knees, but he
kept up with her, although the effort quickly left him out of breath. 
She had no difficulty navigating the meadow-like terrain; he consoled
himself with the reminder that she'd been here a while, knew the land,
and hadn't been in a Viper crash a few centars before.
     In only a few centons, they left the wide grassy space, with its
few scattered trees, and entered a grove of some kind.  The grass gave
way to almost bare ground, with only a few mosses and ferns under the
thick leafy canopy above them.  Tyche deftly led him between the thick
trunks to the side of a fast-running stream.  He could see, in the
moonlight, that there were more of the same type of growths on the
other side, and the tall, ancient-looking trees stretched away on
either side of him, following the water's path.
     "Where's your camp?" he panted, leaning for a moment against the
rough bark of one of those old trees.  *I may not make it without
rest...*
     Tyche halted for a few moments, letting him catch his breath.  She
stood with her face lifted to the distant moons, basking in their
delicate light; her eyes were closed, and her face was radiant.  She
seemed to be listening.  All Starbuck could hear was wind stirring the
branches, and the quiet gurgling of the water.  He wondered how well
those delicate-looking ears could hear.
     "This way."
     In moments, she turned away from the bank of the stream.  Set in
among the trees, several yards from the water, was a small encampment
-- two tents, several small piles of equipment, and something that was
obviously a heating and lighting device, although like none he was
familiar with.
     She indicated the tent nearest the light/heat generating device. 
"You may sleep here," she announced.  She sounded used to obedience. 
Iit never occurred to Starbuck to question otherwise - bad manners for
a guest, especially when she was taking in a complete stranger who'd
quite literally dropped in from the skies.
     He had more questions, like where she was from, what people, and
what she was doing here, but Tyche forestalled any further inquiries
with a light yawn and a stretch.  "I know you must have a thousand
questions, but we can talk in the morning.  I've had a long day, and so
have you.  There's a food pack in the tent, if you're hungry, and
water.  Good night."
     She moved to the other tent, leaving him no choice but to check
out his accommodations.  The small tent, quite similar to others he'd
used, looked and felt like standard issue; it was padded on the bottom,
quite snug and tight against moisture and insects.  A small stuffed
pillow was sewn in at one end, and two lights along with thin but warm
blankets were folded at the other.  Beside the blankets were the
promised food pack and a flask.
     *Either this woman's people put a little more money into their
star exploration than the Colonies did, or she's a special case,*
Starbuck mused appreciatively as he opened the food pack.  The smell
emanating from the self-heating packet made his mouth water.  Calling
it "rations" just didn't seem right!
     He felt a moment's indecision - could he be sure the food was safe
for a human to consume?  Well, it sure smelled good...and she was
definitely humanoid, even if not human...and he was hungry.  She'd said
to eat, surely she wouldn't have given him anything that would be
harmful to him.  He ate ravenously, washing it down with the fresh
water from the flask.
     He pulled off his boots and uniform jacket.  After a brief
examination of the coverings he'd been given, he removed his shirt as
well, keeping only his pants on in case it was necessary to vacate the
tent with little warning.  He settled his laser on top of his pile of
clothing, next to the pillow, where he could grab it instantly.
     *Maybe she's a princess, or some kind of nobility,* he considered
drowsily as he snuggled under the warm, soft blankets.  She certainly
carried an aura of authority, a stamp of refinement he'd not often
encountered in the women he met.
     Starbuck suddenly sat bolt upright. *If we both sleep, who the
blazes will guard the camp?  Anything could happen!  Of course, if
she's been here awhile, alone, she would know if it's safe to sleep
without a sentry...*
     But *was* she alone?  She'd said nothing about companions - their
presence or absence.  Maybe she was stranded, like him.  Maybe her
mission, whatever it was, had been something else, and she was simply
left behind when it failed or ended.  Maybe she'd go with him tomorrow
when Apollo arrived with the promised shuttle...
     And as far as how *safe* the area was, he'd seen no weapons lying
about, and Tyche quite obviously carried none.  Maybe the world was
safe, but going weaponless on a new planet, alone, on a survey check,
was nothing he would've cared to undertake.
     He heard a quiet murmur.  Silently sticking his head through the
tent flap, he saw a figure sitting next to the heating device.  The
moons had gone completely behind the clouds, and the only light came
from that heater.  A woman sat on log - not Tyche; someone completely
different.  She was singing; her voice was deeper, he thought; it was
certainly a different person.
     This woman was dark, her hair and form barely discernable in the
darkness, although she wore the same short, light-colored tunic as
Tyche did. *She fills it better, though,* was his first irreverent
thought.  Her hair was thick, black, and tightly curled; when she
turned slightly, he noticed full lips and a wide nose, and dark, dark,
eyes that were blacker than the night itself.  She, too, was beautiful,
and would give Tyche a run for her cubits in any competition, in the
daylight.  She seemed to be keeping guard; there was no sound from his
hostess' tent.
     Starbuck felt a moment's guilt; was he displacing this woman from
her tent?  Forcing her to change her schedule to watch over him?  But
maybe the women shared a tent, with one keeping day centars and the
other pulling night duty.  He could understand that.
     At least he didn't have to worry about it; Tyche's orders were to
get some sleep.  And his head was starting to ache again.  Keeping the
flap open so he could hear, he lay back down and pulled the blankets
up.
     The pounding eased when he rested his head on the pillow.  With a
contentedly full stomach and the guard's low-voiced song outside like a
lullaby, Starbuck was sound asleep in microns - a deep sleep full of
pleasant dreams, with beautiful women fading interchangeably into and
out of every scene...

                             * * * *

     Morning came and Starbuck woke to a brilliantly colored dawn and
the glowing orb of a sun that hurt his eyes to watch as it rose over
the horizon.  He blinked and rolled over, but the light came through
the tenting material.
     *Lousy way to wake the troops,* he thought grumpily, *shining a
light in their faces at this time of day.*
     Resting his head on his crossed arms, he stared out to see what
might be going on in camp at such an early centar.  He blinked,
staring, but realized his eyes weren't playing tricks on him.  There
was a *third* person in the camp, another woman, one he hadn't seen
before, and he was instantly awake.
     As human in appearance as the others, she was a trim-figured
brunette, standing alone at the edge of the grove.  One long-fingered
hand shielded her eyes like a visor as she faced the sunrise,
motionless.  The bright glow passed through her translucent gown, and
Starbuck could clearly see every line and curve of her perfect body.
     *I think I'm in heaven...*
     As the complete disk of the sun cleared the horizon, and the pinks
and violets of sunrise faded into blue, she turned toward the other
tent in camp.  Starbuck saw soft, dark curls framing a heart-shaped
face, with eyes the hue of the dawn, as she walked past where he lay.
     *I gotta meet this woman!*
     He scrambled for his shirt and boots, dressing with the speed of a
man used to answering red alerts in his sleep.  All the same, by the
time he'd crawled out of the borrow tent, the brunette was nowhere to
seen.  In fact, there didn't seem to be anybody in camp at all, except
him.
     "Hey!"
     There was no response for a centon.  Then someone called to him
from the direction of the stream.  He followed the voice.  It sounded
like-
     But it wasn't Tyche.  The woman on one knee next to the small
cooking fire, bent over a pan of something smelling highly edible and
very delectable, couldn't be the moon-touched fairy of the night.  This
was a golden goddess, with rosy cheeks and an even tan, topped with a
shoulder-length cap of riotous sun-gold hair.  Above the questioning
smile of her red lips were a pair of the bluest eyes he'd ever seen.
     She rose in a lithe movement.  "Breakfast is ready.  Care for
stream fish cooked with native herbs?"
     *A man could live on the smell alone!  But-* "Who are you?"
     She looked at him quizzically.  "I'm Tyche.  Remember?  I found
you stranded by your crashed ship.  You followed me home."
     His jaw almost hit the ground.  "But..."
     She cocked her head, letting some of that gloriously sun-touched
hair swing free.  He was fascinated by the simple movement.
     "Tyche...  But I thought your hair...  You seemed so much paler... 
I mean, your skin...  And your eyes...  Are you *sure* you're Tyche?"
     She nodded her head decisively.  "Always have been.  My parents
gave me the name when I was born.  I don't remember changing it.  Or my
hair, skin, or eyes.  I've always been me."
     "Then my memory's gone, or my brain's not working..."
     She moved swiftly to his side, gently pushing him down to sit on a
fallen tree trunk, watching him gravely.  "You crashed, remember?  And
you had a headache...  You were probably unconscious for centars; it
wouldn't surprise me if you were suffering from a minor concussion. 
What makes you think you weren't a little disorganized last night,
especially adjusting to an alien planet?  And that was moonlight - this
is the light of day."
     He smiled weakly. *That has to be it, my memory's just a bit
muddled from the crash...*
     "Are you disappointed?" she teased.  "Maybe I prefer the wounded
man whose admiring blue eyes followed my every movement, while he
wondered what he could get away with, if he were healthy," she finished
slyly.
     "Hey, you wouldn't disappoint anybody!" he insisted immediately,
rising to her easily perceived womanly charms with a pleased grin.  He
could still flirt, find the right words to charm this lovely woman as
she was affecting him.  And it added spice, somehow, to know she saw
through him, but was willing to play the game anyway.
     She threw back her head and laughed gaily.  "Good!  Let's eat
before the fish get cold.  Then we can start back to your ship, where
your friends should be arriving shortly with your rescue shuttle."
     *How does she know-* "What did you say?"
     "Didn't you tell me a friend was coming for you?  Someone named
Apollo?" she asked.  "Or was that just another delusion of the night
and your accident?  Are you stranded here?"
     "No...  Apollo's coming.  I just didn't remember telling you about
him..."
     "Don't worry about it.  When you get back to your ship, the medics
can check you out.  If there's anything seriously wrong, they can fix
it."  She tossed her head saucily as she stirred the fish in the plan,
those blue eyes watching him coyly.  "It doesn't look to me like
there's anything wrong."
     She waved the pan of savory fish under his nose.  "Now, let's
eat!"

                             * * * *

     The day gave every promise of being hot and muggy.  Gone were the
soft breezes of the moonlit night, and the cool, spice-scented air of
the dawn.  The warriors would've appreciated a swim in the inviting
creek, but Tyche thought they should check his homing beacon first to
see if Apollo had landed.  So they set out.  They sun moved higher in
the sky.  The stream with its grove of trees and the woman's camp was
soon behind them.
     Starbuck was glad Tyche remembered the way back to his Viper; he'd
have sworn they were taking a different route than they had the
midnight before.  But then, the whole night seemed to be fading into
one massive blur that now refused to be sorted into any concrete
memories.
     "I don't remember that hill, but the grass feels the same," he
panted to his guide as she stopped to get her bearings or her breath,
he wasn't sure which.  The heat was affecting her; the short tunic
clung damply to her gleaming body.  The effect was to raise an
already-heightened temperature, and make him wish more fervently for a
cool swim - preferably with her.
     She glanced at the hill, looking very much like she owned the land
and knew it intimately.  "Of course not; you couldn't see it from here
at night," she informed him casually.
     "Oh."
     "Shall we go on?"
     "I guess so.  How much farther?"
     "Not far," she reassured him, smiling.  If that smile could be
bottled as perfume, no human male in the galaxy would have a chance of
resisting any woman.
     That she could move through the thick, coarse weeds without
tripping was a miracle of motion and feminine sway.  Starbuck barely
kept his feet under him - but then, watching her was enough to distract
any red-blooded human male who'd reached adolescence.  He tried to keep
his mind on the terrain.
     *Maybe a little conversation...* "How long have you been here,
anyway?"
     "Not long," she replied briefly. "I've still got a lot to do here
before I return home."
     "What kind of job are you doing?  Simple exploration?  Survey
check and report, that sort of thing?"  He tried to sound interested
without prying.  She hadn't really said much at breakfast, beyond mild
flirtation and a few generalities about the planet - and him. 
Starbuck's first impression was that she was by nature a private
person.  He began to think she might even be secretive.
     "Much more specific than that.  A single specimen of a certain
species is on this planet.  My duty pertains to that specimen."  She
was watching ahead, not looking at him.
     "A single specimen?  Isn't that difficult to find?"
     "Not in this case.  It was easy to find what I was looking for."
     "Oh."
     She still wouldn't elaborate.  He cast about for another leading
question, something that would get her talking.
     She stopped abruptly, raising a tanned arm to point ahead.  "Does
that look familiar?" she asked, the remembered lilt back in her voice.
     He stared.  It was his Viper, leaning against a stunted,
half-uprooted tree.  The temperature must be increasing, heating the
ground faster than the air - shimmery heat waves surrounded both craft
and shattered tree.
     And beyond the tree - *Thank the Lords!* - was a shuttle,
half-hidden among the wiry grasses and small trees.  Starbuck detected
a human figure next to the shuttlecraft; the heat waves made it
impossible to tell who it was.
     But it looked like he was rescued.
     He turned impulsively to Tyche.  "You're a real jewel, you know
that?"  He planted a kiss on those exquisitely formed lips, then turned
back toward the shuttle, waving at the indistinct man coming closer to
him.
     "I'm here!" he yelled.  "Hello!"  He hurried forward.
     In two steps, the ground beneath him changed.  The grass clutched
at his feet, making every step an effort.  It seemed to swirl about his
knees, then swallowed his body.
     "Good bye, Starbuck, for now.  This is my way.  You always knew
that, and accepted my odds..."  He heard Tyche's laughing words sink
through layers of consciousness as the water sucked him under.
     "What...?" he tried to gasp, choking as water rushed into his
mouth - dark green, tainted water, seeking his lungs, seeking to keep
him forever.
     *Don't you welcome my embrace?  Starbuck, how fickle!*
     *Oh, Lords...* He struggled, trying to swim against the
undercurrent that kept tugging at him, but made no headway.  He
couldn't see any light; everything was all that dark green - dim light
filtered through plants and dirty water.
     He was drowning. *She brought me here...* The Viper, the shuttle,
the man - they'd only been a mirage, or a siren's trick to lure him to
his death.  He was drowning.

                             * * * *

     Words.  Disjointed.  They made no sense.
     "...Sure he's okay..."
     "...Good thing we ran a bio-check on the vegetation first thing
when we landed.  The quantity of hallucinogenic substances in some of
the plant life..."
     What was that?
     "...Explain why Starbuck walked away from his Viper...dropped
himself into the river eddy..."
     "Yeah.  If we hadn't heard the splash..."
     "...Been under much longer..."
     "Good thing *we* didn't stay longer..."
     "Might have affected *us*..."
     Eventually words did make sense.
     "Some of what you boys found could have great medicinal value here
on the Galactica.  I'm glad you brought back a few samples."
     "No trouble, Dr. Salik.  Just keep it under lock and key - and
preferably under glass as well!"
     "He's blinking.  I think he's coming around."
     Starbuck finally identified one of the voices around him.  The
last person to have spoken was definitely feminine, and the last woman
he remembered...
     "Lords, Tyche..." he moaned, trying to clear his sight as the
world gradually became real again.
     But no, the fair-haired beauty who took form above him was someone
he knew quite well - Cassiopeia, a med tech aboard the Galactica.  She
watched him with concern, but there was a stern glare in her eyes as
well.
     He smiled weakly.  "Glad to see a friendly face..."
     "Don't be too sure."  Her smile was guarded.  She looked past him.
     Starbuck couldn't lift his head; he shifted his eyes to see who
else stood by his bedside - Dr. Salik, Captain Apollo, Lt. Boomer, and
Commander Adama.  Quite a group to be clustered in life center watching
over one bed-ridden pilot.
     "Hi," he hazarded.
     Relieved smiles answered him.
     "It appears there is no serious brain damage," the doctor
announced.
     "Insufficient drowning," Cassiopeia sweetly demurred.
     Apollo and Boomer were openly amused; Adama, less so.
     "Who's Tyche?" Apollo asked.
     Starbuck shuddered.  "The woman...  Or maybe she was more than
one..."  The moon sprite, corpse-pale under the clouds...  The midnight
shadows, lulling him with her spun melodies...  The dawn-eyed maid,
gone with the sunrise...  The splash of sunlight, teasing and leading
him to death...  He'd seen them one at a time, briefly, and each had
seemed to be alone, fitting the light and surroundings...
     Uncomprehending stares met his gaze.
     "The blonde woman, tanned, the one who led me to the water..." he
insisted, no longer certain of anything, but with a growing sense that
he *knew* what Tyche was.
     Boomer cleared his threat.  "Uh, Starbuck, you were the only life
form on that planet higher than an amphibian.
     "Are you sure he's higher?" Cassiopeia muttered.
     "But..."
     "That's how we found you so fast.  Good thing we did, too.  You
nearly drowned - gave us a real scare.  Why'd you walk into the water
like that?" Apollo asked, a frown puckering his forehead.
     "I..."  It was impossible to explain.  Everything sounded so
very...unusual.  Tyche was fading into a blue that contained the images
of all four women he'd seen on the planet. *Maybe she really was all
four women...*
     "What...was someone saying about hallucinating?"
     Boomer, the expert botanist, answered him.  "Several species on
that planet contain strong hallucinogens in their flowers and sap. 
After a full day on that planet, surrounded by that plant life, it's no
wonder you were seeing things."
     "I...guess...."  In his own mind, he doubted it, as logical as it
sounded even to him.  He hadn't been hallucinating. - but he couldn't
explain what he'd seen.
     "I think we'd let our patient rest," Salik interrupted.  "Cassie,
I believe you had work to do.  Gentlemen, while your presence here is
always welcome, I think the Lieutenant need some peaceful and undrugged
sleep.  Come back in a few centars."
     As the warriors began to file out, the medical called one of them
back.  "Apollo, I think we'll want to run some more tests on you first. 
After all, you may have swallowed some of that water yourself, and we
don't want any unusual toxins or chemical agents affecting your
behavior over the next few days, do we?"
     Apollo remained.  Starbuck noticed for the first time that, while
the captain was wearing a dry uniform, his dark hair was still a little
damp, as if he'd recently stepped out of a shower - which he probably
had, considering the nature of the foul, brackish water he remembered.
     Salik indicated an examination table, then went off in pursuit of
the necessary instruments for the diagnostics.  The captain took his
place on the table next to Starbuck.
     After a moment, Apollo spoke.  "You know, Starbuck," he commented
thoughtfully, "if I remember my ancient history correctly, Tyche was
one of the old Lords of Kobol."
     Starbuck turned his head in shock.
     "She came to be connected with...chance, I think, or fate. 
Probably why the name's not used much these days.  People think it's
unlucky for a girl to be named for chance.  Where'd you hear the name?"
     Starbuck turned pale, shaking his head as he stared at the
ceiling.  "I don't remember," he lied.
     "You must've read about it somewhere."
     "Yeah."
     *Chance?  Luck?  You're a sharp blade, Tyche.  But you've got a
claim on me, I guess, for all the times I've depended on you.  Were you
making sure they found me, or were you trying to kill me?  Do you play
games with your favor?
     *I've risked the odds so many times, tempted fate, gambled I'd be
lucky one more time.  Were you warning me?  Have I come so close?  Did
I use up my share of luck?*
     "Got something on your mind, Starbuck?" Apollo interrupted his
thoughts.
     "I guess Lady Luck hasn't run out on me yet," he said
reflectively.
     The captain laughed.  "Starbuck, there are days I think your
luck's *never* gonna run out!" he declared.
     *I wonder...*

- The End -