"If you let me," Lukas whispered, "I can show you my gift."
"How?" Apollo asked sleepily.
Lukas' finger slowly traced a pattern on Apollo's chest.
"You have to let me in, just for a moment."
Apollo opened his eyes. Lukas was propped on an elbow, looking down at him.
"What do you mean, 'let you in?'"
"Up here," Lukas said, touching Apollo's temple.
"And then what?"
"You'll feel me, closer to you than you could ever imagine…"
Apollo considered it. He was very tempted.
Lukas had been telling him, little by little, about his gift, trying to explain it so that Apollo would understand.
"As a child," he'd said, "I had vivid, vivid dreams, that weren't dreamlike at all. No strange images, no enigmatic scenes, just my reality in Rehai perfectly reflected back at me while I slept. I didn't really think anything of it, didn't know that dreams weren't supposed to be like that, until I was eight, and I realized one day as I watched a doctor tend my brother's broken arm, that I had seen this already. Several days earlier I'd dreamed it, seen him fall while trying to scramble up that short rock face. I recognized the doctor, even though he wasn't the one my family used. After that, I began to pay more attention to my dreams, and the more attention I paid, the closer they rose to the surface, until eventually, even while awake, I would see future events in the town, see what was going to happen to the people around me."
"Did you tell anyone?" Apollo had asked.
"My mother," Lukas replied, smiling. "She didn't quite believe me at first, but after I was proven right a few times, she decided I had a true gift, and began searching for a place for me. The Ey-ben Sie Colony on Deos promised they could train me to use this gift properly, so that I controlled it, not it control me. And I had 14 good, quiet yahrens at Ey-ben Sie amongst true mystics. They opened me to the universe, to the vast intelligence of it, a mind we can never hope to understand. But it understands us."
Now, lying there, Apollo wondered if it would be right for him, untrained, ungifted, to tap into this power.
"Nothing will happen to you," Lukas said. "I'll be your guide. I want to show you, Apollo. I want you to know me this way."
"Why?"
"Because I feel like you don't competely trust me."
Lukas' hand moved down, over Apollo's hipbone and to his thigh, then between his legs. Apollo was tired, but his body responded to Lukas' touch, his eyeslids fluttered closed and his breathing deepened as Lukas stroked him. Then, kisses on his neck, and a tongue tickling his ear.
"I know you're tired," Lukas whispered, "so just lie still."
His tongue, his lips, moved slowly down Apollo's body. Oh, gods, it was incredible. It had never been like this with anyone, not Serina, Sheba, or Starbuck, not with any of the lovers of his youth. Apollo reached up to brace himself against the wall as Lukas took him into his mouth, the sudden heat and wetness making Apollo moan. Lukas's finger, which he'd already moistened, moved into Apollo's cleft and then inside him, so he was being stroked both inside and out. Apollo felt his muscles turn to jelly. He was helpless, couldn't have stopped this if he'd wanted to.
Of course, he didn't want to.
There was a slight ache in his head, behind his right eye. The pain grew, pulling him away from the pleasure Lukas was giving. He put his hands to his temples, the pressure helping to relieve it.
Relax, he heard. Just relax, and the pain will ease.
The voice came from within him.
"No," he said, "No, don't -"
Trust me, Apollo, said the voice again. Let me show you.
"Stop it," he said, the pain increasing. "Lukas, please -"
I'm doing this for you, Apollo. It'll help you.
"NO!"
"Apollo! Open your eyes. Look at me!"
He did. Lukas was on top of him, holding his face in his hands.
"It's all right," Lukas said soothingly.
"I - I don't want that," Apollo said, a bit frightened.
"I won't hurt you. I'd never hurt you, but you need to know, Apollo."
"Know what?"
"Just follow me…"
Apollo felt like he was sinking, like the bed was giving way beneath him and he was falling. Lukas stared deeply into him, Apollo was caught in the darkness of his eyes and couldn't look away. The darkness enfolded him, the walls of the room around him faded and disappeared, leaving nothing. Apollo floated in a sea of black, a peaceful, soothing sea. There was no fear in this place. All his senses were completely at rest.
"From here, we can go any where you like," Lukas said, his dembodied voice the seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere. "What do you want to see?"
Apollo drifted, his mind released, the tensions that wracked his body dissipated. He hadn't realized the true extent of the strain he'd been under, didn't really want to leave here…
"Caprica," Apollo whispered, a sudden longing for his home overtaking him. "Osaiya."
Solid ground formed beneath his feet, gritty, with a firm softness. Sand - a beach, and a great roaring reached his ears, wind and waves crashing against the shore. Greyish light filtered through an overcast sky, and the Kirric sea was angry today, the waves unrelentingly struck the sand, carving out hollows that quickly filled in again.
Apollo stood there, looking out over the water. Behind him, he knew, was the ruined city of Osaiya. He wasn't quite ready to look at it again.
"You must look," said a voice at his ear. "You'll want to see what they've done."
Lukas was with him, the wan light giving his skin an unhealthy pallor. Slowly, Apollo turned, expecting to see blackened buildings, toppled and twisted. But instead there was - nothing. He took a step forward, not wanting to believe his eyes, but it was gone, all traces of Osaiya completely obliterated, only a vast crater marking the ground where it once was.
"They are doing this to all the colonies," Lukas said. "They're wiping us from the faces of all our worlds. They have also done this to Kobol."
Apollo sank to his knees in the sand. This was worse than ruins, and it explained why the Cylons still hunted them. No one must be left to tell of this civilization. The enemy would erase a whole history of a people.
"Take me back," Apollo said, his voice hoarse with emotion.
"Not yet," Lukas said. "I have one more place to show you. Think of this as the beginning. Now, I will show you the end."
Around them, the landscape changed. The sea shrank back, green shoots pushed up through the sand, the land before them dropped away and down, so that they stood on a hilltop. Apollo felt warmth across his back and shoulders as the clouds parted and scattered, revealing a bright blue sky and yellow sun. In the distance was a city, unfamiliar to him, but a city all the same.
There were voices down below, speaking a language he didn't know, but they were unmistakably human voices. From out of a stand of trees broke a small group, three women and two men, and they walked towards him and Lukas. One of the men stopped and turned around, whistling, and from out of the trees dashed a four legged creature that bounded up to the man, making rough, but unthreatening sounds, leaping, then racing away ahead of them. They walked right past Apollo and Lukas, and off down the other side.
"Where are we?" Apollo asked, not daring to hope…
"I believe this is our home," Lukas replied. "I have seen it many times."
"Do you know how to get here?"
"No. This is a vision. I'm showing you one of my dreams, Apollo."
"And Caprica was also only one of your visions?" Apollo asked, disappointed.
"Such doubt in your tone," Lukas said. "Such distrust of what all your senses are telling you. This place is very real. You can feel the sun on your back and the breeze against your skin. All things exist somewhere in space and time, Apollo. Where we stand, can be reached."
"Can we go down to that city?" Apollo asked.
"No," Lukas replied. "Think of this as standing at a window. You can see everything beyond it, but cannot pass through."
"So, we're here, but we're not here," Apollo said, struggling to understand.
Lukas moved closer to Apollo.
"It is confusing, I know," he said, kissing Apollo's neck. "But you will remember being here. We have travelled, just not in the way you're accustomed."
"But it's just in our minds."
"Our whole life is played out in our minds. Entire universes exist within us. My gift allows me to bring you into my universe, so we are joined like two halves of the same soul."
Lukas turned Apollo's face toward him and kissed him, lingeringly and passionately.
"Let me make love to you in this form," Lukas whispered, "free from our physical encumberances."
"But we have bodies," Apollo said, holding his hand up.
"That was just so you'd have something familiar," Lukas said. "We're pure energy, pure - essence. It will be unlike anything you've ever experienced."
Apollo nodded, a little afraid but curious.
"We must go back to that soothing sea, as you called it," Lukas said. "We'll belong to each other forever."
++++++++++++
"What's the matter?" Athena asked.
"What? Nothing."
"You haven't heard one word I've said, have you?"
"I've got a lot on my mind."
"Well, I'm trying to tell you something about your son, so I think you could spare a few moments to listen to me!"
Apollo sighed.
"I told you," he said. "I don't know what's wrong with him."
"And you know what?" Athena replied. "I don't believe you. I don't know why, Apollo, but I feel like you're hiding something from me. If it has to do with Troy, I have a right to know!"
"Look," Apollo snapped. "I don't have time for this right now. If Troy has some sort of a problem, then you should be talking to him, not me. And maybe if you leave him alone, he'll work it out by himself. He's old enough to clean up his own messes now."
Athena was genuinely shocked. She stayed in her seat for long moment, staring at her brother, then got to her feet.
"Maybe you're right," she said. "I suppose no child of 11 should expect any help from his father. I suppose once they're, what, 9 or 10, they should just be booted out and told to look after themselves! Is that what you really think?"
"No," Apollo said, with exaggerated patience.
"Good." She leaned over the table at him. "I know it has something to do with you," she said. "And I will find out what it is."
She's threatening me? Apollo thought, astonished.
"I hope you do find out," he said coolly. "Be sure to let me know."
Athena looked like she wanted to say something else, but decided not to. She left, and Apollo let out a long sigh of relief, put his elbows on the briefing room table and rested his forehead in his palms. Just need a few moments of peace and quiet…
The alarms sounded, the sudden harsh blaring sending a stab of pain through Apollo's skull. He struggled up from his chair and hurried out onto the Bridge.
"Report!" he yelled.
"Commander," said Omega. "Captain Boomer reports an encounter with a lone Cylon fighter at co-ordinates 392.8."
Apollo looked at the viewscreen. Those co-ordinates were dead ahead of them. That wasn't good.
"Let me talk to him," Apollo said, opening a compartment on Omega's console and grabbing a spare headset. "Patch me in, private channel."
"Sir," Omega said, making the necessary adjustments.
"Boomer, tell me what you see," Apollo said, walking to a quiet spot on the Bridge.
"So far, just the one, Sir," Boomer said. "I'm doing a sweep right now. We seem to be in kind of a dead area between systems. Just stars, so there'll have to be a Baseship around somewhere."
"Did the fighter send any transmissions?"
"Yes, I think so," Boomer said gravely. "I think they're coming, Commander."
Apollo saw Tigh come onto the Bridge.
"Stand by, Boomer," Apollo said, motioning to Tigh.
He quickly told the Colonel what Boomer had reported.
"I recommend we change course immediately," Tigh said. "Move away from this threat."
"I agree," Apollo said. "Make the necessary adjustment, Colonel, and relay it to all ships."
"Yes, Sir."
Tigh walked away towards the helm.
"Anything, Boomer?" Apollo asked, reactivating the headset.
"No, Sir. It's way too quiet. I don't like it."
"The Fleet is changing course," Apollo said. "I'll give you 15 centons to finish your sweep, then you are to return to the Galactica. Understood?"
"Understood, Sir. Captain out."
Boomer was right, Apollo thought, looking at the star chart of the sector they were passing through. This was a dead area of space, nowhere for either side to hide. So where was the enemy?
"All Vipers scrambled and ready for launch, Sir," reported an Ensign who suddenly appeared beside him.
"Thank you. Tell them to stand by."
The centons ticked by as Apollo stared at the starchart, thinking. Something not right about this. Anything as big as a Basestar should be detected by the patrol. The Cylon fighters didn't have the range that the Vipers had, had to stick closer to home, so there was only a limited area that the Basestar could be in. Why couldn't Boomer find it - or at least a trace of it?
Unless the Cylons had new camoflaguing technology, a thought that sent a shiver through Apollo. It was certainly possible, and they were about due for a change in tactics. Like clockwork, almost, the Cylons would make a new discovery, improving their shields or firepower or maneouvrability, and then the Humans would capture it and pervert it to their own use. It kept the balance.
"Course laid in, Sir," Tigh said. "We are underway."
"Good. Thank you, Tigh. What's our course?"
Tigh called it up, so that a blue line cut across the chart, showing their direction.
They were now headed towards a binary system, with one white star, and one red.
*
Apollo waited nervously for Lukas. After he had seen their new heading, he'd just left the Bridge without a word to anyone. He'd heard Tigh make a small grunt in surprise. After all, the Commander should be on the Bridge at a time like this!
Apollo and Lukas hadn't spent much time discussing the dream, for Apollo didn't want to give in to the irrationality of it, didn't want to give it too much importance. But then, he had let it direct him before, at their last major battle. He'd allowed himself to be rattled…
Finally, Lukas arrived. Apollo glared up at him in irritation for taking so long.
"You sent for me, Commander?"
"Where were you?"
"Even I have a right to leisure activities, you know." Lukas sat down beside him. "So, you're ready to discuss this dream of yours, are you? The changes, the new elements, our present course taking us to the heart of anniliation?"
Apollo looked at him suspiciously.
"Oh, don't look at me like that! Of course I know, Apollo. Now, do you want my opinion?"
Apollo nodded.
"Quite often in these types of dreams," Lukas said, "besides the problem, there's also the solution. You might be too caught up in the drama all around you to see the way out."
"All I see, is wave after wave of attack, and two Basestars coming towards us."
"You're concentrating on known elements," Lukas said. "Do you remember anything that seemed out of place on the Bridge?"
"No, not even the crew. They're all the ones who're usually there. Except -"
Apollo broke off, thinking.
"Except what?" Lukas prompted.
"Athena isn't there, and during any attack she's essential personnel. She has to be on the Bridge, no matter what."
"That may not be significant. And, you aren't getting along with your sister these days."
"No, she's been missing right from the very beginning."
"There is something we can try," Lukas said.
"What?"
"I can follow you in, see everything you see. Maybe a fresh set of eyes…"
"But haven't you been spying already?"
Lukas smiled. "Well, yes, I admit it. But if I accompany you, I'll be more of a participant than a spectator, get a better sense of what it's all about. It won't harm you at all. You won't even know I'm there."
In a way, Apollo was relieved. Like a child with an irrational fear of the dark, he'd become uneasy about going to bed, knowing what awaited him below the surface of his conscious mind. He could endure this dream again with Lukas there to protect him.
"We should do this as soon as possible," Lukas said.
"You mean now?"
Lukas nodded.
"But I'm not sleepy," Apollo said, with a small smile.
"I know how to remedy that," Lukas replied, leaning in to kiss Apollo, running his hand up Apollo's thigh.
Apollo pulled away and activated his combadge.
"Commander Apollo to Tigh," he said, as Lukas licked his earlobe.
"Tigh here, Sir."
"What's our status, Colonel?"
Lukas had opened Apollo's top, slid his hand in and played with Apollo's nipple.
"Quiet, Sir. No signs of any Cylons."
"Well -" Apollo had to break off as Lukas' hand drifted down below his waist.
"Sir?"
"Sorry Colonel. If I'm not needed, I'll be in consultation with Special Advisor Lukas. And I don't wish to be disturbed, unless absolutely necessary."
There was a moment of silence from Tigh.
"Commander," he said, his voice tense and low like he didn't want anyone else to hear, "the crew needs you. This is a crisis situation."
Lukas now had Apollo's pants open, was kneeling before him, kissing and licking his way down Apollo's body. He took the waistband of Apollo's undershorts in his teeth -
"Which is why I'm consulting the Special Advisor, Tigh," Apollo said, his concentration rapidly scattering. "That's all. Commander out."
He grabbed Lukas around the throat under the chin, forcing his head up.
"I've told you before," Apollo said, a bit angry, "don't do this while I'm talking to Tigh."
"He doesn't know."
"But he suspects, and that's enough." With a shove, Apollo released him. Lukas fell back on his hands, not enjoying the game this time. He'd allowed Apollo to have his fun, but now it was time to take back a bit of control.
Lukas got to his feet, put out his hand.
"Shall we go?" he asked.
Apollo took it, and with a sharp, sudden pull and a twist, Lukas had Apollo's arm pinned painfully behind him.
"You know Commander," Lukas whispered harshly in Apollo's ear, "I've been thinking that I'm not getting quite enough out of this relationship."
Apollo struggled a little, but with each movement his shoulder seemed to separate more. Then he felt something cold against his cheek. It stroked him there, then moved down along his neck. Lukas held it out before Apollo's face. An ornate silver blade, the handle carved with strange symbols.
"Do you like my knife?" Lukas asked.
"It's very nice," Apollo replied quietly.
"We all had one at Ey-ben Sie. Sometimes it was necessary to use it, on yourself, that is, when your mind drifted too far away. Sometimes only the sight and taste of blood would bring you back."
Lukas looked down at Apollo's arm that he held tightly. The palm of Apollo's hand was facing outward, perfect for a demonstration.
"This knife is so sharp," Lukas said, drawing the edge of the knife across Apollo's trapped hand, "that you may not feel it when it first cuts you."
He could hear Apollo's ragged breathing as the blade sliced deeply into his flesh. A thin line of red formed across his palm, widening as the blood began seeping out. Lukas bent down and licked it, pushing his tongue into the cut. Apollo cried out, with his free arm tried to elbow Lukas in the gut, Lukas just applied more pressure to the limb he held, forcing Apollo to bend at the waist.
"I'll let you straighten up again if you promise to behave," Lukas said.
"Okay," Apollo gasped.
Lukas pushed him forward into the bedroom, and down onto the bed.
"Stay on your stomach," he ordered.
Lukas grabbed Apollo's arms, bound them firmly. His hand still bled. Lukas dipped his finger in the blood, coating it.
"Now, you may sit up," he said to Apollo.
Apollo struggled to his knees, sat kneeling on the bed, facing Lukas.
"Taste your own blood, Commander," Lukas said, pushing his finger between Apollo's lips. "There's no finer ambrosia."
Lukas let his finger trail down Apollo's chin, leaving a red stain. Then he slowly took off his clothes, pausing over each clasp, his cold gaze never leaving Apollo.
"At least you know enough not to talk," Lukas said, climbing onto the bed. "I do hate people that chatter when they're nervous."
Apollo's heart pounded against his ribs. The knife, with a thin sheen of red along one edge, lay on the bed by Lukas. He didn't think Lukas would really hurt him…
Lukas began stroking himself. Apollo felt himself going hard - more than that, felt like someone was touching him, and he realized that the feel of it matched Lukas' hands exactly.
"Everything I feel, you can feel too," Lukas said, his voice husky. "Oh, Apollo, I know you're afraid. It excites me."
Suddenly Lukas stopped, pulled his hands away.
"Pleasure," he said, eyes half closed, breathing deeply and heavily, "is heightened when mixed with a little pain."
He picked up the knife, bringing it up to his lips. His tongue carefully cleaned the blood from it, and Apollo again tasted it in his own mouth. Then Lukas brought the knife down to his thigh, and with a swift motion slashed across it, neatly opening the flesh. Apollo gasped, feeling the sudden, sharp pain. Blood began soaking through his pantleg.
Then, Lukas touched himself again, using his own blood for lubrication, and Apollo couldn't stop his arousal, couldn't detach himself, heard moans escaping his lips, perfectly matching Lukas'. Then Lukas reached for the knife again, one hand continuing to pump, and with the point of the blade, he traced a neat circle around his left nipple, cutting into his breast. Apollo was breathless, the knife burning into him, feeling blood trickling down his chest. Lukas continued to torture him, dark eyes flashing with glee as he made another cut across his stomach, and another, down his arm. Tears of pain streamed down Apollo's face, but he was powerless, had no voice to even beg Lukas to stop.
"Now," Lukas said, his eyes aglow with the rapture of it, "for the very best pain. This will cleanse you, Apollo. This will free you."
He moved the knife down between his legs. Apollo could only watch, eyes wide with terror. And at the same time, climax. Their orgasms were immanent. Lukas closed his eyes, concentrating on the motions of his hand. Apollo felt pressure building in his groin, the need for release was urgent, and just as he came, he saw the flash of the knife.
For an instant, he knew only searing agony.
And then he knew nothing.
++++++++++++
Someone shook him gently. He jerked awake, pulled away from the touch.
"Hey, it's okay, it's just me," Starbuck said, hand poised in midair.
Apollo looked around the room, searching for evidence for what he remembered had happened. But there was no blood anywhere, not from Lukas nor himself. In fact, he realized, he wasn't even in any pain, wasn't injured at all.
Starbuck said, "Tigh couldn't get you on the comm, told me to find you. What's going on, Apollo?"
"I just fell asleep, that's all," Apollo said.
He got up and went to the door, looking out at the empty front room. He leaned against the doorframe and ran his fingers through his hair, then laced them together at the back of his neck, the pressure against the base of his skull feeling good.
"They need you on the Bridge," Starbuck said.
Apollo nodded, not speaking. A sudden, sharp pain in his hand made him wince and pull it away from his neck. The cut across his palm was opening. He stared down at the blood welling under his skin. Starbuck came up beside him, and Apollo quickly made a fist, concealing the injury.
"What's going on?" Starbuck asked again. "The Fleet is on alert, Commander. You should be up there."
Apollo heard him, barely, too consumed by the burning in his hand and the influx of images in his mind: Lukas, the knife…
"Hey!" Starbuck shook him again.
Apollo looked at him, and his eyes went wide. The Leiutenant's face seemed to shine; no, it was an aura, of sorts, blue-white, radiating from him.
Blood seeped between Apollo's fingers, dripped onto the carpet.
"What happened to your hand?" Starbuck exclaimed, grabbing it and opening the fingers. The aura vanished.
"It's all right," Apollo said, snatching it back.
He turned and walked into the bathroom, turning on the water in the sink. He put his hand under the flow, watched the blood swirl down the drain.
"Apollo," Starbuck said, following him, "You're scaring me. You're acting very weird, have been ever since - ever since Lukas began 'advising' you, if that's what he's doing."
There was a lot of blood coming out of Apollo's hand, almost like an artery was cut.
"Tell Tigh I'll be on the Bridge shortly," Apollo said.
"Apollo -"
"That's an order, Lieutenant."
"Listen to me, Commander," Starbuck said, "I've been through this before, in case you've forgotten. I've seen false prophets, seen so many since we started this joy ride that I think I can recognize 'em pretty easy now. And I thought you could too."
Apollo smiled down at his injured hand.
"Oh," he said quietly, "there's nothing false about Lukas. In fact, everything about him is far too true."
Apollo looked up at his own reflection, at the shadows under his eyes and cheek bones, and chin. Actually, it was as if his skull was showing through his skin, the dark patches outlined the bone structure exactly. And even his eyes had lost some of their blueness, looked more grey now.
Starbuck still watched him through the door.
"I want you to think, Apollo," he said. "I want you to remember the last false prophet that came to us, and what he tried to do to you. You're marked, for some reason. They look for you."
Apollo shut off the water and turned towards him. "I know," he replied.
Their eyes met, and Apollo felt something stir within him. Starbuck came close, reached up to touch Apollo's face. Apollo allowed it for a moment, even closed his eyes, giving himself over to Starbuck's touch, but then he took Starbuck's wrist and pulled his hand away.
"Don't, please," Apollo murmured.
"I'm afraid for you," Starbuck said, softly. "And I'm starting to be afraid for all of us."
"So am I," Apollo replied.
*
On the Bridge, Tigh was nearly incoherent with anger, was barely able to keep it in check as he briefed Apollo. No further signs of the enemy. All ships prepared to take up defensive positions. Full squadrons ready for launch.
"Thank you, Tigh," Apollo said mildly. "You're relieved. Go get some rest."
"The Commander plans to stay a while?" Tigh retorted, his voice a near whisper.
"Colonel, I could take that comment to be blatantly insubordinate. Have you already forgotten our little discussion?"
Tigh's temple veins bulged, his eyes glowered, but he backed down, aware of the sidelong glances coming from the other crew members.
"Was the Special Advisor of any help, Sir?" Tigh asked, a small gleam of mockery in his eye.
"No," Apollo answered. "No, he was not."
Tigh grunted and turned away, hurrying from the Bridge. Apollo watched him until the doors of the turbolift had closed, then went and sat in the command chair. On the viewscreen, the stars streamed past, and around him the crew silently manned their posts.
Movement, somewhere to his left. He caught it in his peripheral vision, turned to look, but there was nothing there. He shook his head at himself, returned to watching the viewscreen, and his thoughts drifted…
To Starbuck.
Involuntarily through Apollo's mind flashed scenes of he and Starbuck together. Seemed so long ago now, their momentary happiness, the culmination of a deep friendship…
But then, his reveries were invaded. Starbuck's face changed, and a new one super-imposed itself. Lukas. His essence flowed through Apollo, twisting every memory, creating new images of torture and pain. A battlefield of the dead and dismembered, a dark cannibalistic feast, a child nailed a floor - Apollo squeezed his eyes shut, hunched over in his seat as he tasted blood again and the cries of a million lost souls echoed deep within him -
"Commander? Are you all right?"
The soft voice snapped Apollo out of the terrible vision. His eyes flew open, and for a moment he didn't know where he was.
"Commander?"
Rigel looked down at him, her hand resting lightly on his arm.
"I, uh, I'm fine, Rigel. Do you need something?"
"No, Sir. I just - I just - noticed - you, that's all," she stammered.
Tears began running down her cheeks, quickly deepening in colour, from clear to pink to…red. Blood streamed from her eyes, but she didn't know it. Apollo forced himself to look away, and got hurriedly to his feet.
"Commander?"
"I'll be in the Briefing Room," Apollo said.
He rushed towards the doors. They slid open just in time to admit him, and he staggered over to the table, placing his palms flat on its surface and leaned most of his weight on them. He stared down at the featureless surface, forcing all thoughts, all pictures from his mind, concentrated on blank nothingness…
And then he heard it.
It was like singing, like a sweet, gentle song that called to him from far away. A song he knew, but could not name. As he listened, his eyes filled with tears, it was so beautiful and comforting…
It faded, and was gone, leaving him with a depth of saddness that he hadn't experienced since he lost Serina. He brushed at his tears, put his face in his hands and took some deep, steadying breaths. Behind him he heard someone enter the Briefing Room, felt a hand on his back that slid up to his shoulder. It was Athena, he knew without looking.
"Rigel is worried about you," she said quietly.
"Yeah," he said. Then he turned and put his arms around his sister, suddenly needing contact with someone real, with someone who hadn't changed over the last yahren.
"What's wrong?" Athena asked.
"Everything," he replied.
She had the same aura as Starbuck, clear blue-white. He'd glimpsed it when he turned to her, could still see it as he looked down her back. He didn't like it, this cold brightness, closed his eyes against it. It frightened him a little.
It was the aura of… the Enemy.
The true Enemy.
No, he thought, can't be. Not Athena…
Yes, a voice whispered, tickling his mind. She will destroy you.
Apollo held onto her more tightly.
+++++++++++++++
Lukas had been sleeping, gazed dreamily up at Apollo from his pillow.
"Are you angry with me?" he asked, stifling a yawn.
"No," Apollo replied.
"Then sit."
Lukas moved over, making room, and Apollo sat on the edge of the bed. Lukas noticed the bandage around Apollo's injured hand, and carefully he unwrapped it, peering closely at the angry red cut across the palm. Lukas enveloped it between his own, and squeezed it slightly, closing his eyes and concentrating. Apollo felt warmth coursing up his arm, and when Lukas released his hand, it was completely healed, with no scar.
"I'm sorry I hurt you," Lukas said, touching Apollo lightly on the jaw.
"Are you?"
"Oh, yes. I don't want to. You are very important to me."
"Important how?"
Lukas' dark eyes flashed, but whether with anger or amusement, Apollo couldn't tell.
"You are the key," Lukas said. "You always have been. But more than that, I have never loved another like I love you."
Apollo had to look away, felt himself falling into those dark eyes again, wanting to respond to the desire in Lukas' stare. But he couldn't afford to be distracted; there were too many things he needed to know.
"Are you the same one who came before?" Apollo asked, tensing himself for the answer.
Lukas frowned. "I don't understand your question."
"Yes, you do."
"Well, then, I say no, because I have always been here."
"Don't play word games with me, Lukas!" Apollo snapped angrily.
Lukas smiled, slowly sat up.
"Ah, your anger - such a powerful force that drives you, as much as your guilt and despair," he said admiringly. "It is your strength, Apollo, the way you turn to the darkness within you and use it so willingly."
"Who are you?" Apollo demanded.
"You know already, my love. I need not say."
It was true, Apollo did know, but he wanted to hear Lukas say it, wanted to hear the name he used for himself.
"On Earth," Lukas said, drawing his knees up under his chin like a child, "there's an old, old book, full of old, old fantastic tales, believed to be the true history of a people, but it is the false work of our Enemy. In it I am a lowly creature, known only for the basest, cruelest deeds. What they deem weaknesses are my strengths, and my worth remains unrecognized."
"What is this book?" Apollo asked.
"It has many names: Koran, Talmud, Bible, Scriptures, all written in ignorance, enslaving those who read it. You, Apollo, are the key to the freedom of your race. You shall bring the truth to Earth, and lift the veil from your people's eyes. The Enemy knows this, fears your leadership."
"The Enemy," Apollo said slowly, "is already here."
"Yes, you have seen the ones who would stop you, but you have nothing to fear from them."
"Tell me your name," Apollo insisted.
Lukas ran his hand through Apollo's hair, gazed affectionately at him.
"Oh, my love," he murmured, "it must never be spoken, not even to you."
"Commander Apollo, you are needed on the Bridge!" Omega's tense voice called out from Apollo's combadge.
"On my way," Apollo answered.
He stood, straightened his uniform.
"Was the dream your work?" he asked Lukas suddenly.
Lukas shook his head. "No," he replied. "It was theirs."
*
"There!" Omega said, pointing to a spot on his screen. "Gone again."
"I don't know," Starbuck said, over the comm from his Viper, "maybe there's something, maybe not. Can't get a lock."
Apollo and Tigh hunched over Omega's shoulders, squinting at the scanner readout.
"It's definitely coming our way, whatever it is," Tigh said. "We should scramble the squadrons."
"Not yet," Apollo said.
"Commander!"
"I said, not yet."
"Whoa!" Starbuck said. "What the -"
The comm went dead.
"Starbuck?" Apollo called. "Starbuck, come in!"
Omega flipped through the frequencies, trying to raise the patrol. For a few tense moments there was nothing, then Starbuck's voice came back.
"-Galactica. Come in, damn it!"
"Starbuck, we can hear you! What happened?" Apollo asked.
"I don't know. System failure of some kind," the Lieutenant replied.
"The cockpit went scarily dark and quiet, then everything fired back up again."
"Same with me, Sir," said Ensign Meritt, on patrol with Starbuck.
"Did you see anything?" Apollo asked.
"I was too busy looking down at my controls, so, no," Starbuck replied. "How about you, Meritt?"
"I saw something," the Ensign said quietly.
"Describe it," Apollo ordered.
"I can't really, Sir, other than to say that it seemed to get…darker… out here. Like a shadow over my ship."
"Both of you, come in now," Apollo said.
"Maybe we should try following it, Commander," Starbuck said.
"No. You are to return to the Galactica. That's an order."
Starbuck hesitated before replying. "Yes, Sir. Returning home. Starbuck out."
Tigh was watching him. Apollo could feel the Colonel's eyes on him.
"Commander," Tigh said, emphasizing each word, "I must disagree. We should have more ships out looking for this entity -"
Apollo silenced him with a sharp glance, returned to watching the screen, watching the two patrol ships vectoring in on the landing bays. One lagged behind a little, slowly increasing the distance.
"Lieutenant Starbuck!" Apollo snapped. "I meant return home today!"
"I'm goin' as fast as my little boat'll take me, Sir," came the sarcastic reply.
Apollo knew what was going to happen, and he knew that he couldn't stop it. This was how the game would be played, just as it had been before. Suddenly, Starbuck's ship vanished from the scanner. He heard Tigh's surprised sharp intake of breath.
"That is why no ships will be sent out, Tigh," Apollo said quietly.
"How did you know, Sir?" Tigh asked.
Apollo deflected the question. "There will be no alerts, and no squadrons launched without my explicit authorization. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Sir, but the Lieutenant -"
"Will be returned to us," Apollo said. "He's in no danger. At least, not yet."
*
Apollo felt very calm. Even though the end was coming, he felt no fear. The red star was clearly visible now on the view screen, it's significance known only to himself, and Lukas. And the Enemy.
Beyond this plain an ancient battle waged, and sometimes it spilled over, affecting lesser lives. Checks and balances, opposites conflicting yet forging a sort of harmony, a cycle that spun on endlessly. But sometimes sides had to be chosen to ensure survival.
Apollo knew he had chosen his side long ago. It was his inescapable fate to sit here now, pondering the short stretch of time left to them.
And, anyway, it had been the Enemy who'd erred. For they had restored Apollo, had opened the way for the Dark Lords to return here, to succeed where they had first failed.
It was all very clear now.
He thought about that time, four yahrens ago, when Iblis came to them. A nefarious spirit, clumsy in his attempts to become their leader. Too selfish, too easily angered, so that in his rage he killed the only person in this Fleet who would have been of use to him.
And then the Enemy had seized their opportunity, sought to fill Apollo with their Light but the shadows that lurked within him were too deep, and quickly smothered the brightness.
He was being used, then. By both sides.
Apollo didn't want to see the Fleet destroyed. He truly didn't. He was still a human being after all, at least in some part. These survivors deserved better than to be caught in a battle that wasn't their own, controlled by forces they couldn't begin to understand.
I am the key, Apollo thought, Lukas' words coming back to him. But a key can both lock and open, turn two different ways…
There is was again, movement, caught in the corner of his eye, just like on the Bridge. But he was alone in his quarters, as the ringing silence attested. He sat very still, trying to look without looking. The wraith hovered, came a little nearer so that he thought he could make out its form, see a head and body, vague, wavering.
It was right by him now, waiting for him to take notice. A ghostly hand reached out to touch him but then abruptly drew back.
"Father," Apollo whispered. "Is that you?"
He dared to turn his head a little, raised his eyes to see the face. He saw kindness - forgiveness - reflected back at him.
"I am lost," Apollo said, "but I won't allow it to happen to the others."
The ghostly hand reached out again, touched Apollo on the forehead like a blessing. The wraith then disappeared, leaving him with a strange tingling where it had marked him.