BY YOUR COMMAND - Static ARCHIVE

"Captain Boomer to Lieutenant Starbuck!"

The voice infiltrated Starbuck's slumbers.

"Starbuck! Come on, buddy, wake up!"

Starbuck struggled towards the surface, but consciousness came hard. Didn't he just climb into bed? And now somebody needed something…

"Lieutenant Starbuck!" Boomer's voice blasted out of the comm over his head. "Answer me, dammit!"

"What - what is it?" Starbuck answered, trying to read Boomer's tone.

The Captain was excited, but not angry or agitated.

"Get down to shuttle bay Beta-3. On the double!"

"Why? What's up?"

"No arguments, Lieutenant! Beta-3, and that's an order!"

But just before Boomer cut communications, Starbuck heard him laughing. What is he - drunk? the Lieutenant wondered as he hoisted himself to his feet. At least, whatever was going on certainly didn't sound dangerous.

*

From the corridor, Starbuck could hear the noise inside the shuttle bay. It sounded like a - a party! Starbuck shook his head and hit the doorswitch. As the doors slid aside, the first thing he saw was a strange ship, black in colour but with no identity markings. Before it was a small crowd of people: Starbuck picked out Boomer, Jolly, and Sheba, amongst several other officers, then his eyes lit on Athena, and the Commander.

And then he saw who stood with them.

No, he thought, as his mouth went dry and his heart sped up, can't be…

Of their own accord, his feet carried him forward and through the crowd until they stood face to face. Those blue-green eyes looked right through him, as they always had. Starbuck couldn't speak, squeezed his eyes shut against the tears as Apollo pulled him into a tight embrace.

*

The next few centars were a blur. News of Apollo's return moved at lightspeed through the Fleet. Starbuck couldn't tear his gaze away from him. Apollo looked a touch older, but his smile was the same. Adama and Athena positively glowed, and Athena kept her arm locked through her brother's, unwilling to let him out of her grasp. Starbuck watched, stared, actually, the shock of his friend's return having a firm grip on him. And, in his mind, he saw once more Apollo walking away from him on the surface of that strange planet. Over the yahrens, Starbuck had come to believe that this was Apollo's ghost he'd seen, and that Apollo was destined to haunt that world for all eternity. But obviously, that wasn't true, for as flesh and blood Apollo had returned.

They were in Adama's quarters now, and Apollo answered their rapid questions briefly, saving the longer explanations for later: Where was he? Many, many places. What happened on that planet? He wasn't entirely sure, but had a few theories. How did he find his way back? He had heard about a large Fleet moving through this system when he made a stop at an outpost, and set out to find it. What has he been doing for the last three yahrens? Flying the ship he came in on for some of it…

Three yahrens. It struck Starbuck suddenly just how much time had passed. Three yahrens since that heartbreaking day when they'd had to give up the search. And, for three yahrens, Starbuck had blamed himself, had tried for some sort of redemption by watching over Troy. He scanned the room, looking for the boy - no, not really a boy anymore, rapidly becoming a young man. Troy stood with Sheba, watching from afar, like Starbuck.

And behind Starbuck, gripping a goblet of water, was a very important guest. He called himself Daeshan, and was from a place called the Prelar Confederacy. The black ship belonged to both him and Apollo. They were partners in some sort of venture. Daeshan spoke only a little of their language, but Apollo was fluent in Prelaran, and translated when necessary.

Starbuck studied Daeshan out of the corner of his eye. The Prelar was humanoid, taller than Starbuck, but with fine facial features: thin nose and almost lipless mouth. And his eyes were a reddish-gold, seeming to burn within their sockets. Rich brown hair flowed past his shoulders and was clipped neatly at the back of his neck. All in all, Starbuck had to admit, a rather impressive looking being. Daeshan gave off the aura of peace, but Starbuck had the feeling that that could change in an instant.

Apollo yawned suddenly, and admitted that he'd been awake for the last 22 qualons - "I mean," he said, pausing to think for a micron, "the last 30 centars or so."

"Well then," Adama announced, "we'd better let you get some sleep. You can stay here, in my spare room, and we'll arrange quarters for Daeshan."

Apollo spoke to the Prelar, who replied with a modest bow of his head.

"Daeshan says thank you, but he would prefer to sleep on his ship," Apollo said. "He just needs someone to escort him back to the shuttle bay."

"Of course," Adama said. "Perhaps Lieutenant Starbuck could accompany our guest?"

"Be glad to, Sir," Starbuck said, and his heart skipped as Apollo shot him a warm smile.

*

After seeing Daeshan safely, and silently, back to the shuttle bay, Starbuck decided to seek out Troy, wanting to make sure he was all right. It had taken Troy a long time to get over losing Apollo, and, in his mind he had constructed a picture of his father made up of only happy memories. This picture wasn't necessarily accurate, but it was how Troy chose to remember his father. However, now the boy was suddenly faced with reality, and Starbuck knew how potentially unsettling that could be.

As it turned out, Troy was waiting for him, a serious expression on his youthful face. Starbuck stopped in surprise just inside his quarters. A couple of yahrens ago, Troy had lived here, too, and Starbuck had never bothered to change the access code after the boy went to stay with Athena. That had been hard, Starbuck finally admitting to himself that he couldn't look after a child and asking Athena to step in. But thankfully, Troy had held no grudges against him.

"I was just going to look for you," Starbuck said.

Troy just nodded as Starbuck sat down beside him.

"So, uh, are you okay?"

"Yeah," Troy replied. "Still can't really believe it, though."

"Me neither."

They sat in silence for a few moments.

"Why aren't we happier about it?" Troy asked suddenly.

"What do you mean? I'm happy."

"No, I was watching you. And I don't like that Alien."

"His name is Daeshan," Starbuck said firmly.

"Yeah, whatever."

Troy stood.

"Oh well," he said skeptically. "We'll see what my Dad has to say tomorrow."

"Troy," Starbuck said, puzzled over the boy's response, "it's a good thing that your Dad's come back."

"I know. I'm glad, I guess."

He left before Starbuck could say another word, not that there was anything he could say. Troy was likely just protecting himself, wary in case this apparition disappeared like all the others. But he and Apollo had been very close, and hopefully that would overcome Troy's misgivings.

*

Of course, Starbuck was desperate to talk to Apollo, but destined to wait in line, it seemed. Apollo was paraded before the Council, and cajoled into making a short statement to the entire Fleet. But there was no information about where he'd been all this time. If Athena and the Commander knew, they weren't even hinting at it. But at least Daeshan wasn't lonely for too long. There was a contingent of women eager to keep him company and show him around, which he accepted with good humour, struggling to communicate. And, Starbuck realized, this visitor provided one clue as to Apollo's adventures: for Apollo to know Prelaran so well, he must have spent a lot of time in the Confederacy.

After his shift, Starbuck was enjoying a drink in the officer's club, sizing up possible opponents for a round of Pyramid, when Apollo suddenly walked in. It was instant pandemonium as a cheer went up and the crowd practically rushed him, eager to shake his hand and buy him a drink. With a sigh, Starbuck got off his stool and shoved his way through the uniforms, finally grasping Apollo firmly by the arm.

"Sorry folks," Starbuck said, "but as Apollo's longtime wingman, I claim the honour of buying him his first drink."

Nobody argued, and the crowd parted to let them pass.

"What can I get you?" Starbuck asked as they settled at the bar.

"My usual. That is, if you remember," Apollo replied with a small smile.

"Of course I remember."

Starbuck ordered, watched Apollo stare around at the Officer's Club.

"It's exactly the same," he said.

"You expected great changes?"

Apollo shook his head. "No, but sometimes your memory isn't the most accurate."

Their drinks arrived, and almost solemnly they clinked their glasses.

"Welcome home," Starbuck said.

"Thank you."

They both took long drinks, set their glasses down on the bar. Starbuck burned with a million questions, but contented himself with just watching Apollo for now. And, Apollo seemed pleased enough with the silence. He'd likely been talking ever since he woke up, repeating over and over again where he'd been, and what he'd been doing.

"That Daeshan's an interesting guy," Starbuck commented.

"Yeah, he is," Apollo agreed. "And, I think he's enjoying all the attention."

"Well, who wouldn't? How long have you known him?"

"Not too long, maybe half a yahren."

That was a surprising answer.

"What kind of business do you two have going?" Starbuck asked.

"Oh," Apollo said, "mostly making cargo runs. Nothing too exciting. But, if I hadn't been doing that, I wouldn't have heard about the Fleet."

"That ship's pretty well armed."

"Has to be. Not every place in this galaxy is friendly."

Starbuck thought for a moment. "I guess we've been lucky then. So far we haven't had any problems with the locals."

"You wouldn't. It's the Prelar Confederacy they have a problem with."

"Why?"

Apollo shrugged. "The usual stuff. Trade embargoes, minor battles over land and resources. Nothing serious. Just politics."

"So, uh, what kind of cargo were you transporting into these hostile territories?"

Apollo's eyebrows shot up, and he searched Starbuck's face for a moment for the meaning underlying his words.

"Most of the time," he said carefully, "it was equipment and supplies for mining outposts."

"I didn't mean to imply anything, Apollo. I'm just curious."

Apollo nodded, then smiled. "Sorry. I'm used to being on my guard."

"Well," Starbuck said, draping an arm around his shoulders, "you don't have to be anymore. You're home."

"Thank God," Apollo said.

After that, conversation between them got easier, and Starbuck learned a few things, but the majority of the time he answered Apollo's questions. And, eventually, they even fell back into their usual banter, laughing and insulting each other like those three yahrens apart had never happened.

"So," Starbuck said hesitantly, "where have you been all this time?"

"I don't want to talk about that here," Apollo answered.

"Is it bad?"

Apollo nodded. "Some of it."

The atmosphere between them had turned serious, and Starbuck regretted his inquiry.

"It's so strange being back," Apollo said. "I never thought it would happen."

"Well, to tell you the truth, neither did I."

Starbuck paused, debating what to say next. He decided to take a gamble.

"I saw you down there, you know," he said. "On that planet. I saw you walking, and I followed you, but then you vanished."

Apollo didn't reply right away. He cupped his glass in his hands and stared down at the amber liquid within it.

"I know you saw me," he finally said, his voice a near whisper, "but I couldn't get to you."

"Why not?"

"That place," Apollo said, "was a fantasy land, where you could have anything you wanted if you allowed yourself to be captured."

"But, the satellites -"

"Were to warn people off. They weren't there to protect the planet. They were there to protect anyone who came across it."

"I don't understand," Starbuck said. "Why didn't it grab all of us, then?"

"Well, it only worked on certain types of people, I guess. And I was one of them."

"What are you saying? Are you saying that you wanted to stay there?"

"For a little while I did," Apollo admitted. "And by the time I'd changed my mind, it was too late."

Just then, one of the other officers boldly approached and began talking to Apollo. Apollo, in turn, seemed to welcome this distraction away from his conversation with Starbuck and turned his full attention towards the newcomer. Starbuck sat quietly until they'd finished, and then Apollo announced that he'd better go check on Daeshan, make sure that the Prelar didn't need anything. Starbuck just nodded, disappointed, but then Apollo leaned in close and said:

"I want to talk to you. Privately."

"You know where to find me," Starbuck said.

Apollo smiled at him affectionately. "I really missed you," he said.

Starbuck returned the smile, feeling a sudden flush of warmth rush through him. All the love he'd harboured for Apollo came flooding back, released from the place he'd hidden it.

*

So, Troy was right.

Three yahrens ago when he'd said "maybe my Dad didn't want to come back," the boy had obviously seen something in Apollo that Starbuck had missed. And it was no wonder Troy remained suspicious and aloof.

And what could have lured Apollo like that?

Starbuck walked down a corridor, these troubling thoughts occupying him. He heard voices somewhere ahead of him, but didn't pay any particular attention to them. Until they began to grow louder. And louder, and he realized there was a heated argument taking place.

But it wasn't in Galactican. It was in that strange tongue spoken by Daeshan.

Starbuck sidled up to an intersection in the corridor and peered around the corner. He saw Apollo and Daeshan, each one looking extremely angry, barking harsh-sounding words at each other. Suddenly, Apollo turned to walk away, but Daeshan grabbed him by the arm. Starbuck tensed himself, ready to intervene should the fight turn physical, but Daeshan merely leaned down and muttered quietly in Apollo's ear. Whatever the Prelar said, the situation became calm again, and Apollo nodded, listening intently.

"All right," Apollo said, and Daeshan released him.

The Prelar said a few more words, then strode swiftly away, leaving Apollo standing in the corridor rubbing his forehead and eyes as if suddenly fatigued. Starbuck pulled back before Apollo saw him, and scurried back the way he'd come for a short distance, so that he could look like he was just coming down the corridor right then and hadn't heard any of the argument.

"Hey," he said, coming face to face with Apollo.

"Starbuck," Apollo said, a bit distracted.

"What're you up to?"

"Nothing. Just had to talk a few things over with Daeshan."

Well, Starbuck thought, since you brought it up…

"What sorts of things?"

"Future plans," Apollo said, deliberately evasive.

"When you put it that way," Starbuck said, grinning, "it sounds like you're not staying."

"I have to do what's fair to him, that's all. He's done a lot for me."

Starbuck frowned. "What's that mean?"

"Look, it's between me and Daeshan, all right?" Apollo snapped.

"Okay." Starbuck paused, surprised by Apollo's brief flash of anger. "I, uh, gotta go meet Boomer."

That was a total lie, but Starbuck sensed that the longer he stood here, the more unpleasant the conversation was going to get. But he was sure that Apollo was holding something back, something big.

"Can I see you later?" Apollo asked, "in your quarters?"

"Of course."

Apollo smiled, touched Starbuck lightly on the arm.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm having a hard time getting used to this place again, if you can believe it."

What happened to you? Starbuck thought, looking into Apollo's troubled eyes.

"It's okay," Starbuck replied, fighting an impulse to just take Apollo in his arms and comfort him. "I'll see you later."

Apollo nodded and walked away. Starbuck watched until he had turned the corner and was out of sight.

PART 2

"From what Apollo has told me about the Prelar Confederacy," Adama said, "we can expect neither trouble nor aid from them. The Confederacy encompasses four systems within this galaxy, and not all of them are pleased to be governed by the Prelar."

"Do you mean these systems have been taken over, Sir?" asked Boomer.

"Yes, Captain. The Prelar appear to be the overlords here, but how they run this galaxy does not concern us. As long as we don't interfere with them, they won't interfere with us. Still, I want all pilots on patrol to be extra vigilant. This is a dangerous sectar of space, the most dangerous since we left the Cylons behind."

Despite what Adama said, he was worried. All the officers at the conference table could see that.

"Commander, do you think we should question Daeshan directly?" Starbuck asked.

"He's not a prisoner, Lieutenant, we cannot treat him as one. Any information he provides must be strictly voluntary. And since he brought Apollo back to us, at the very least he deserves the right of privacy and cordiality."

"Yes, but he might be a better source of information -"

"He'll tell us no great secrets about the Confederacy," Adama said firmly. "Why would he? No, Apollo's perspective, the human perspective, is more important to us."

"Well, if he knows so much, Sir," Starbuck said, frustration getting the better of him, "he hasn't been too forthcoming."

Adama glared him into silence. "Perhaps he hasn't told you, Lieutenant, but I assure you he's been quite open with me."

"Yes, Sir," Starbuck said, chastened.

"In 27 centars we will be arriving at a system called 'Kemhai", which is engaged in civil war," Adama said, resuming the briefing. "Its people are trying to break their ties with the Prelar, but they are not succeeding. You may receive distress calls, or even direct contact, but we are in no way to become involved in this conflict, no matter what you may hear or witness. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir," said Boomer, replying for all of them.

"I don't like giving that sort of order," Adama said. "I realize that we have relied on many kindnesses from other races while on this journey, but we cannot afford to have the Prelar as an enemy. Apollo assures me that they are stronger and better armed than we are, and from the looks of the Prelar ship, I am inclined to agree. It is a shame that such a strong, advanced race uses their power to conquer others, but if that is their way, we cannot change it. We can only hope not to become involved."

"The pilots will be carefully instructed, Sir," Boomer assured the Commander.

"Yes, I leave that responsibility to you and your officers, Captain. This briefing is concluded and you're dismissed. Lieutenant Starbuck, could you stay a moment, please?"

Starbuck sat back in his chair while the others filed out. He tensed himself, waiting for the dressing down he was about to receive for his thoughtless outburst. But the Commander had something completely different in mind.

"Starbuck," Adama said, dropping the formality of the briefing, "I'm concerned about Apollo and his connection to the Prelar. While he's told me quite a bit about their society and military strength, I haven't learned how he ended up here. Has he told you anything?"

"No," Starbuck replied. "I've tried to ask, but he deflects the question, doesn't want to talk about that at all. But there's something going on with him and Daeshan. I have a funny feeling about it."

Starbuck told the Commander about the argument he'd witnessed between Apollo and the Prelar, and Apollo's continuing promises to stop by for a private talk.

"But he hasn't come to see me yet," Starbuck concluded.

"I'd like you to keep a close eye on him and the Prelar," Adama said. "I feel that Apollo's trapped somehow." Adama paused. "And, I fear that he might disappear again unless we proceed carefully."

*

When Troy first came to live with him, he and Starbuck would spend centars playing 'Sky War'. They'd sit on the floor, tightly gripping their controls, watching the holographic ships swoop around the main room, engaged in a vicious dogfight. At first, Starbuck couldn't believe that this boy of eleven could beat him - could, in fact, shoot him down in two centons flat! But Starbuck got better, even used to practice in private when Troy wasn't home.

It was a lot of fun, Starbuck getting to play with toys that had been unavailable to him when he was young. Hell, even just 'playing' had been frowned upon in the orphanage, where all the children were expected to work to earn their keep. And then he'd been sent to live with a farming couple, an older man and woman who'd lost their sons in the war and needed help. No time to play there, either.

So, for a while, having Troy with him was really kind of a novelty, which was totally the wrong way to approach their new-found relationship. The boy needed guidance, needed someone to help him through his grief, but instead of talking they played games, avoiding the subject of Apollo. And when they grew bored with playing, there was nothing left.

They both knew it. Troy spent more and more time at Athena's until Starbuck just said to her one day: "How about you and I switch quarters so that you'll have enough room?"

It was surprising, then, that Troy still hung around with Starbuck, still felt the need for his company. Especially now that his father had returned.

At the soft tap on the door, Starbuck had fully expected to find Apollo finally making good on his promise, but instead it was the boy, looking upset. Troy wouldn't sit down, stood just inside the door, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"It's not him," Troy said. "It's not my father."

"What are you talking about?"

"He's not doing what he should be doing. He's not - the same!"

"Well, Troy, he's been gone a while, and maybe what you remember is -"

"No!" the boy interrupted angrily. "That's not it! He won't talk to me! He avoids me!"

"That's not true," Starbuck said. "I saw you together just yesterday, down by the Rec Area."

Troy shook his head and let out a long, agitated sigh.

"Yeah, well, he stood there for as long as you were watching, and then he made an excuse and took off. Just like he has every other time, Starbuck. And, he's left rooms when I've come in. It's not my imagination."

Starbuck didn't know what to say. And any trying to counter these accusations would be like calling Troy a liar.

"Have you told Athena or Adama?" he asked gently. Troy shook his head. "How can I? They're so happy to see him. But I thought maybe they might've noticed…"

He trailed off, then continued: "I guess I should have been happier to see him on that first day."

"No, whatever's going on, I'm sure it's not your fault," Starbuck said. "Do you want me to talk to your father?"

Troy shrugged. "I don't care."

"Well, you do care, or you wouldn't be here telling me. I'm sorry, Troy. I don't know why he'd act like this. He loves you, I know he does."

Troy half-nodded, unconvinced, and left without saying another word.

*

The longer Apollo stayed, the deeper the mystery surrounding him got. Why he would treat his son this way, if that's indeed what was happening, Starbuck couldn't begin to fathom. Apollo had always wanted a family, was so grateful to have a child to raise when he was beginning to think it would never happen. After three yahrens away, Apollo should want to spend every micron with Troy, learning everything that had happened to him in the time they were apart.

And, the more Starbuck thought about it, the angrier he got at Apollo. All the unanswered questions burned through Starbuck. It doubled the incentive for finding out what, exactly, was going on.

"Lieutenant," said a voice behind Starbuck as he walked.

The word, however, came out more like: leee-o-tae-nant. It was Daeshan, hurrying to catch up.

"Yes?" Starbuck replied, not all together friendly.

"Uh," Daeshan said, putting a hand on his chin, thinking. "I leave… how?"

Starbuck blinked at him for a moment. "Do you mean, leave the Galactica?"

"Yes."

"In your ship?"

"Yes." Daeshan smiled, pleased at being understood.

"Well, I just have to call the Bridge and say that you want to leave. And then we can open the shuttle bay doors."

Starbuck answered with what he hoped were the appropriate hand gestures. The Prelar got the gist of what he said.

"Yes. Good. Now, please."

"Now," Starbuck repeated.

"Yes, uh" - Daeshan muttered something in Prelaran, searching for the right words - "Problem. Message. I go now."

"All right," Starbuck said. "I'll come with you to the shuttle bay."

Daeshan nodded once, a quick up and down motion of his head.

"So, where are you going?" Starbuck asked as they walked.

Daeshan gave him a perplexed look, shook his head in confusion. Convenient, Starbuck thought, that you don't understand that simple question. But he just smiled in a friendly manner and they continued on in silence.

"What do you mean he wants to leave?" Adama asked through Starbuck's combadge.

"I don't know, Sir. He just came up to me in the corridor and said he had to go. Some sort of a message and a problem."

Starbuck stood a little ways away from Daeshan in the shuttle bay, speaking quietly to the Bridge.

"We have no record of any transmissions," Adama said, "but I suppose the Prelar could use a frequency we cannot detect." The Commander sighed. "Very well, Lieutenant, tell him to ready his ship. You are cleared to open the bay doors."

"Yes, Sir."

Starbuck turned back to Daeshan, and told him he could proceed with his launch.

"Does Apollo know you're leaving?" he asked.

"Ummm," Daeshan said, his placid expression showing a hint of annoyance. "I come back," he said. "Uh, two - three Galactica days. I come back."

"I'll tell the Commander."

Daeshan bowed his head in appreciation, and disappeared into his ship.

*

The Prelar's absence had no calming effect on Apollo. In fact, it seemed to make him jumpier. He couldn't sit still in Starbuck's quarters, was constantly drumming his fingers and tapping his feet. Most likely, Starbuck thought, he was forcing himself to sit and would prefer to be pacing. Was Apollo worried about the Prelar? Hard to tell.

Starbuck had practically dragged Apollo in here, fully intending to lay into him about Troy, but watching him now, he couldn't. Apollo's obvious agitation was too distracting.

"Are you worried about him?" Starbuck asked.

"Who? Daeshan?"

"Yeah."

Apollo shook his head. "No."

"Do you know where he went?"

"Kemhai."

"Should we be concerned about that?"

Apollo looked at him. "Is this an interrogation?" he asked.

"No, but it's a dangerous area and I just want to be sure we have all the relevant information. And you should be eager to share what you know."

"I've told the Commander everything I know about the Confederacy and their wars," Apollo said. "If you stay out of their affairs, you'll be fine."

"Don't you mean 'we'll be fine'? You are one of us, aren't you?" Starbuck countered.

Starbuck smiled to soften the words, make it more like teasing, but they still seemed to hurt Apollo, who looked away with a small sigh.

"I'm sorry," Starbuck said, changing tactics. "It's just that you've been back for eight days now, and I've hardly talked to you. I still don't know anything about where you've been or what happened."

"What do you want to know, then?" Apollo asked quietly.

"Well - everything. You're a walking miracle - you've returned from the dead. All the guilt I've carried around for the last three yahrens has finally been lifted from me."

"Guilt?" Apollo said. "Over what?"

"You got shot down because of me."

"No," Apollo said, shaking his head. "I landed on my own. I wasn't forced."

There was a silence of several microns before Starbuck responded.

"What do you mean you landed?" he asked finally. "And why would you do that without telling me?"

Apollo looked down at his hands. "It's hard to explain what happened, Starbuck. It sounds too fantastic for anyone to believe."

"Try me."

"Okay." Apollo paused, thinking about how to begin. "When you first saw that place, what did you feel?"

"What'd I feel? I don't know. It was three yahrens ago!"

"Well, I remember," Apollo said. "You went barrelling right towards it, couldn't take your eyes off of it. And you certainly weren't listening to me. It was calling you, Starbuck, and it almost got you."

"Calling me! What - you think it was a - a siren-world? Those are just stories, Apollo!"

"Stories that have been around for a millennia. And whoever put up that defense grid certainly knew what kind of world it was. It saved you."

"Saved me! So you're saying those satellites snapped me out of it? Broke the spell? Why didn't they work for you, then? They were shooting at you, too."

"In the course of rescuing you," Apollo said, "I broke through the line, and suddenly I was overcome by feelings of peace and tranquillity. That planet filled my view, it was all I could see. And all the pressure, everything I was worrying about, just went away. Then I heard a voice that filled my mind, and it said, 'Come and rest awhile. Your journey is long and hard, and you're tired. You must rest now.'"

Apollo paused, shaking his head at himself. "So, I went. I wanted to. I couldn't have turned around."

"Usually in those stories," Starbuck said sarcastically, "the unlucky traveller ends up starving to death or being torn apart by monsters. They certainly don't come back."

"I knew you wouldn't believe me."

"Well, come on, Apollo! The siren-worlds are myths!"

"So's Earth, but you have no trouble swallowing that one."

Starbuck had no direct reply to that.

"How'd you get away, then?" he snapped.

Apollo didn't answer right away, but his blue-green eyes clouded over and he stared at nothing.

"There were monsters," he said finally, "but not on the surface. They came from the sky, and they - rescued - me."

"Why do you call them monsters if they did that? Was it the Prelar?"

"No," Apollo said. "Look, I haven't even told my father this, and I think he should hear it first."

"Why?"

"He just should."

Apollo leaned forward and rested his face in his hands.

"Is it that bad?" Starbuck asked.

Apollo nodded. "I shouldn't have come back here," he said.

"But this is where you belong."

"Not anymore."

"How can you say that?"

Apollo lifted his head and looked at Starbuck. "Do you know why that siren-world worked so well on me?" he asked.

"No, why?"

"Because the past caught up with me. It took five yahrens, but it finally did. I used to scoff when people said that if you didn't deal with things that happened to you, they'd just build up and drive you crazy. I never believed it, but that's exactly what happened. All that time we'd been travelling through dead, quiet space all I could think about was Zac, and Serina, and my mother, and Caprica, and everyone from our squadrons who'd died. I couldn't get any of them out of my mind, Starbuck. It was eating away at me."

"I never knew."

"Of course you didn't. Nobody knew. It was easy to function on auto-pilot when it was quiet. I could even go to the Officer's Club for a few drinks and look like I was having a good time. But in my mind I was seeing everybody who was gone, so it was easy for me to be pulled away by that place. The dead went away, which was what I wanted. I didn't want to think about them anymore."

"What did you find when you got out of your ship down there?" Starbuck asked.

"Heaven," Apollo replied. "I can't describe it any other way. And I would have died there quite happily, Starbuck, looking up at the clear blue sky as I took my last breaths. I should have died there."

He paused.

"But now I only feel guilty about that," he continued. "I abandoned the Fleet and my family."

"But if you weren't in control…"

"I was never far from you when you were searching for me. I found it funny, watching you all run around frantically. And then I let you see me, Starbuck. I knew you'd follow me. It was just a big game."

"What would've happened if I'd caught you?"

"You wouldn't have. That place protected its inhabitants."

"Well," Starbuck said slowly,struggling to understand everything Apollo had said, "it doesn't matter now. You're home. You got away."

"You came back to me," he added, after a moment.

"Starbuck -"

"No, I want to say this. I want to say that it doesn't matter what happened to you, and I'll help you any way I can. You don't know how much I've thought about you since that day you disappeared. I've prayed that you were alive, and that you'd find your way home. I was on the verge of giving up, but here you are."

Starbuck moved closer, put his arm around Apollo's shoulders and nuzzled his hair. Then he whispered:

"I won't lose you again."

For a moment, Apollo leaned into him, but then pulled away.

"I better go," Apollo said.

"Why? I don't want you to."

Apollo broke free and got to his feet. Starbuck quickly followed, grabbing his arm.

"Apollo -"

"Don't do this," Apollo said. "Please…"

Maybe he was taking advantage of Apollo, but Starbuck didn't care. Gently, he pulled Apollo to him, put his arms around him, revelling in the feel of Apollo's body against his. Starbuck closed his eyes and let his imagination run through favourite fantasies of he and Apollo intertwined, caught up in acts of passion. Gods, they might actually come true now -

Apollo shifted suddenly, lifting his head from Starbuck's shoulder. His lips found Starbuck's, and for an instant Starbuck couldn't tell if this was really happening or still his imagination. But then Apollo's embrace tightened, and his hands slipped under Starbuck's tunic and moved sensuously across his bare skin. Starbuck's lips parted to admit Apollo's tongue, and his fingers raked through Apollo's hair. There was a flush of intense heat in Starbuck's groin, and he pushed it against Apollo's hip, feeling an answering push from Apollo.

Finally, out of air, they broke off the kiss. But there was no turning back, and they both knew it. In a few strides they were by Starbuck's bed, tugging at their clothes and letting them fall to the floor. Apollo had scars, fine lines of pale flesh below his left collar bone and across his flat stomach, like he'd been slashed. Starbuck ran his finger along them, questions in his eyes but Apollo grabbed his hand, shaking his head gently, and pulled Starbuck down onto the bed.

Starbuck wanted to cry. This was exactly where he'd always wanted to be, lying with his lover Apollo, a tangle of limbs and sweat and passionate kisses. Apollo touched him, stroked him from his balls to head, and Starbuck moaned, opening his legs wider. But Apollo was in no hurry, let his hands and tongue slowly explore Starbuck's body, tickling, nipping and caressing. Starbuck was in a sustained state of euphoria, where reality spun out of control and merged seamlessly with his dreams.

It was his turn for a little exploration. He pushed Apollo onto his back and rolled on top. For a moment he just looked down at Apollo, stared deeply into his blue-green eyes. Even in the midst of their lovemaking, Starbuck saw trouble in Apollo's gaze, saw distress that he couldn't quite hide. But then Apollo pulled him close for a kiss, and Starbuck's desires took over again. He kissed down Apollo's body, being especially gentle with the scars, brushing his lips lightly over them. He traced Apollo's hip bone, nuzzling the soft flesh of his lower abdomen. Starbuck ran his tongue along Apollo's inner thighs, hearing Apollo gasp, then went over his testicles and up to the head of his cock. Starbuck looked up, saw Apollo watching. He smiled and opened his mouth, taking Apollo inside. He felt a pair of strong hands entangling in his hair as Apollo began to thrust deeply into Starbuck's mouth.

"Oh god," Apollo moaned, "Oh god, oh god, Starbuck -"

Starbuck touched himself, matching Apollo's thrusts, his own orgasm building along with his lover's. Apollo gave a sharp cry, and came into Starbuck's mouth. Starbuck almost choked, for he came at the same time, but somehow managed to swallow and moan and continue breathing. Shakily, he lay down beside Apollo, one arm across Apollo's stomach, head nuzzling his neck. Apollo took Starbuck's hand and kissed the palm.

"You belong here with me," Starbuck said, stifling a yawn. "You always have."

Apollo didn't answer, had already drifted off to sleep.

*

Apollo was gone when Starbuck awoke. He had only been asleep for a few centars, but Starbuck had gone deep into the unconscious world and been plagued by dreams. A few images lingered as his mind strove for wakefulness: a great, empty plain that stretched forever under a restless, dark sky; the Galactica, drifting derelict, long abandoned and forgotten; and Apollo, crouched down in a grey place, looking gaunt and starved, his eyes black pools that caught the light and reflected silver -

Starbuck sat up, shaking his head, trying to clear that last remaining image. He arose and peered into the main room, confirming that he was alone. With a sigh, he went back to bed, pulling the covers up around him, thinking about everything Apollo had said.

And everything he had not said.

Like, who his rescuers were, and what happened after that.

**I knew you'd follow me…** Apollo's voice echoed through him. Maybe, Starbuck thought, if I'd gone further, I would have been caught by that place, too. Then we would have had each other, at least… A smile played on his lips as he remembered the feel of Apollo's body against his. Lords, it was all he'd ever wanted -

But then the dream images invaded again, and the warmth of the moment fled.

Sighing, Starbuck got up again. There'd be no more sleep until he knew everything. He hopped into the sono-shower, leaning back against the warm wall as the waves gently pummelled him. Then he dressed and went out, wandering with no particular place in mind, just a walk and a think.

"Hey, Bucko," said Athena as she came towards him.

"Hi. You seen your brother anywhere?"

"He's off someplace with Troy."

This surprised Starbuck. "Oh… well, that's good."

"Why do you say that?" Athena asked, puzzled.

"No reason."

"I did - kind of - want to talk to you," Athena said hesitantly.

"Well, only if it's not gonna be too painful for you. You know the way to my quarters."

Inside, Athena sat back in a chair and appraised Starbuck critically, her gaze going from head to foot and back again.

"So," she said, "spill it. What's he told you?"

"Uh," Starbuck stammered, taken aback by her abruptness, "Nothing - nothing that he hasn't told you already."

She continued to stare for a moment or two.

"I guess I believe you," she said finally. "Although I've been wrong about believing you before."

"Athena!"

"All right, all right, I'm sorry. I'm just a little frustrated, and you're my last hope. He's holding back, and I don't know why. And the Council is breathing down Father's neck, getting nervous about Apollo's silence. You've heard the rumours?"

"Yeah."

Rumours about Apollo being the advance scout for a Prelar invasion force. Rumours that it really wasn't Apollo at all, some fantastical creation sent to lead them astray.

Rumours that the old enemy had somehow gotten to him, the most frightening despite how preposterous the idea was. They were 4 yahrens beyond Cylon space.

"The Council thinks that the Commander is protecting Apollo," Athena said, "when he should be debriefed and interrogated like any other recovered soldier. And, even though he's my brother, I do think Father should be more pro-active about that."

"But it's his son, Athena."

"Yeah, but if things turn ugly that won't help him, Starbuck."

"Well, I think Apollo's been seriously traumatized, and somehow the Prelar are capitalizing on that. We should be concentrating on getting him completely away from them."

"But they brought him back," Athena said, frowning. "They don't own him."

"We'll see when Daeshan returns, won't we?"

"Yeah," Athena said slowly, thinking. "You know, I said to Dad that we just shouldn't let the Prelar back aboard. But he said that Apollo was insistent that Daeshan be allowed to return. I wonder why? If Apollo is a captive, this is his chance to escape."

"Unless," Starbuck said, "he's a valuable captive. Unless they need him."

"But all he does is cargo runs."

"I'm not so sure about that," Starbuck said grimly. "Not anymore."

*

Duty interrupted Starbuck's ponderings. A four centon shift of patrol boredom, but he had to at least try to concentrate, ever mindful of the Commander's words. The Fleet was now within range of transmissions from Kemhai, but the system was eerily quiet. Maybe, Starbuck thought, the Prelar have prevailed, and crushed the opposition… He set his vectors and hit the turbos, swinging towards the back of the Fleet.

He had looked for Apollo before his shift, but couldn't find him anywhere. His thoughts drifted back to three yahrens ago, when Apollo said he was in such a tailspin. Starbuck searched him memory for any signs he'd missed, any hint of the turmoil that Apollo said was engulfing him If it was that serious, how could he not have noticed?

Easily.

Quiet times for Starbuck meant more Pyramid, more drinking, more loafing around… more fooling around. No, even though he was lusting after Apollo, Starbuck was having too good a time to be bothered by his problems.

But now, that would change. No matter what had happened, even if that whole siren-world story was completely bogus, Starbuck would be there for him. Nothing would change his mind.

Or his heart.

"Hey Starbuck," called Boomer from the other Viper, "you awake over there?"

"Barely."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

Boomer hesitated, then said: "Why do think there's been no talk of Apollo taking his old job back?"

"Why - you worried or something?"

"No, there's certainly room for two of us. But don't you think it's a little odd that nobody's even mentioned it?"

"Geez, Boomer, the guy just got back. Give him a micron to catch his breath, why don't you."

"It's just… I don't know. There's no talk about the future. More like he's just visiting."

"You're not listening to those rumours, are you Captain?"

"Of course not!"

"And who says he has to go back to his old job anyway?"

"Well, I guess he doesn't have to…"

"Good. Glad we cleared that up," Starbuck said. "Case closed."

*

It was worrying, all the unanswered questions that were beginning to swirl around Apollo - even getting to Boomer, the most rational man in the Fleet. They could end up driving Apollo away… But then, it was up to Apollo to provide the answers. It was up to him to eradicate the rumours with a strong dose of truth.

Unless he couldn't speak it. Unless the truth was far too painful.

Starbuck left the troop decks, directing the turbolift towards his quarters. Part way there, he was paged through his combadge.

"Ensign Darien to Lieutenant Starbuck."

"Go ahead," Starbuck replied.

"Sorry to bother you, Lieutenant, but I have a bit of situation down here with Troy."

"What's the problem?"

"Well, essentially, I can't get him to go home. Short of forcibly dragging him out of here, I don't know what to do."

"Is he causing trouble?" Starbuck asked.

"No, no, he never does. But it's time to close up. I can't leave him in here."

"Okay, I'll be right there. Starbuck out."

With a sigh, Starbuck redirected the turbo-lift down to the Viper repair labs. For a few yahrens now, Troy had been hanging around there, watching the engineers and asking questions. After a while, they began giving him small components to work on, teaching him about ships' engines and weapons systems. Troy had an aptitude for mechanical problems, it seemed. Ensign Darien was waiting outside the door, looked relieved to see Starbuck.

"What's going on?" Starbuck asked.

"I don't know. Troy's completely ignoring me, acting like he doesn't hear me. I don't know what's wrong with him. He's never been like this. Both the Commander and Lieutenant Athena are on the Bridge, and I don't know where Apollo is, so I called you."

"Okay. Wait out here."

"Yes, sir."

Starbuck stepped into the controlled chaos that was the repair lab. Bits of unrecognizable equipment and salvage nearly covered the floor space, so that there were only narrow cleared pathways to walk along. Starbuck spotted Troy as a work station, and made his way over there, swiftly navigating the maze.

Troy ignored him, was intently studying readings on a diagnostic unit. He looked tired, his gaze verging on a dead stare, and the numbers that scrolled across the screen likely weren't registering at all.

"Whatcha got there?" Starbuck asked.

"Power cell from a laser cannon."

"What's the matter with it?"

"Doesn't charge. I don't know why."

"Well, you can try again tomorrow. Darien needs to close up now."

"Yeah," Troy said, but he didn't move.

With a sigh, Starbuck grabbed a stool and sat down.

"What's going on, Troy?" he asked, deciding on the direct approach.

"Nothing."

"I know you can lie better than that. So come on, tell me."

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"Promised."

Starbuck was rapidly tiring of these one word answers. "Promised who?"

The boy visibly slumped. "Apollo," he mumbled, barely audibly.

Starbuck suddenly remembered what Athena had said, about Apollo being out with Troy. Obviously it wasn't a very happy meeting…

"What did he say to you?" Starbuck asked, his tone a bit sharper than he'd intended. "I know you promised, but if he upset you, I want to know!"

But his sharpness seemed to ignite something in the boy. He gave Starbuck a sidelong look, like he was sizing up a possible ally before making any commitments. With a slow, deliberate movement, he shut off the diagnostic unit, waiting until it had completely powered down before speaking.

"He said I deserved an explanation," Troy said.

"For what?"

"For why he's been avoiding me."

Starbuck waited, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"He's not staying, Starbuck," Troy said. "When the Prelar comes back, he's leaving."

Starbuck felt cold, like all the blood had suddenly drained out of him.

"D-Did he say why?"

Troy shook his head. "Just that he had to. Don't you know why?"

Another appraising, sidelong look.

"No."

Troy continued: "He said that he was sorry he hadn't spent much time with me, but -"

He broke off, pushed the air out of his lungs in a long, ragged sigh.

"But he didn't want me to get too used to having him around, because he has to leave again."

Starbuck was too shocked to speak. His worst suspicions were being confirmed, and this miracle of Apollo's return was quickly turning into a nightmare. He reached out to squeeze Troy's shoulder, but the boy jerked away.

"Troy, I don't know anything about this, but I will find out what's going on -"

"Commander Adama to Lieutenant Starbuck." The page interrupted Starbuck.

"Starbuck here," he replied into his combadge.

"Please report to my quarters, Lieutenant, as soon as possible."

"Be there shortly, sir. Starbuck out."

Troy slid off his stool and headed for the exit, with Starbuck following close behind. There must be something he could say, but his own mind was reeling. In the corridor, Troy strode swiftly away, ignoring Starbuck who called after him.

"Everything okay, Starbuck?" Ensign Darien asked.

"No," Starbuck replied. "Definitely not."

*

Apollo, Athena, and Adama waited, their expressions uniformly grim. The Commander wordlessly indicated for Starbuck to sit, and he settled carefully onto a sofa to Apollo's left. Apollo wouldn't meet his gaze. Starbuck had the urge to touch his hand, for he seemed in desperate need of comforting. But one look at Adama's hard, serious gaze squelched the impulse. Starbuck sat back, afraid of what was to come.

"Well, he's here," Adama said impatiently. "Continue."

Apollo glanced up as his father, then at Starbuck. For an instant Starbuck saw fear in Apollo's eyes, but then the emotion fled, replaced by cold emptiness.

"What I told you before," Apollo said slowly, "about that planet being a siren-world, might not be completely true. It's just my subjective impression, but I don't really know for sure."

Adama's fingers tapped soundlessly on the arm of his chair. Apollo noticed, was distracted momentarily by the motion, recognizing the gesture as a small outlet for the simmering anger inside his father.

"What I do know," Apollo continued, "is that it's used by a race called the Kaine, who call it 'Piege', which means 'trap'. They check it every so often to see if anybody's been lured there, but whether they set the trap or it's naturally occurring, I don't know."

Adama sighed, shifted in his seat, a skeptical expression on his face.

"What do these 'Kaine' do with the people they find?" Athena asked.

"They consider themselves to be 'scavengers of lost souls'," Apollo said, "when really they're slavers. They buy and sell lifeforms, concentrating on scavenging individuals who've become separated or lost. Daeshan told me that they have an extensive database by which they can identify new additions to their inventory and who might want to purchase them. I never saw it, but they did put me through some kind of scanner, which is how they classified me as a human. Daeshan believes they've been all over the universe, and that they have knowledge of races we can't even imagine. Certainly, their ships can travel great distances in a fraction of the time it would take anyone else."

Another pause.

"But, lucky for me," he continued, "they're also a bit lazy, or maybe I should say, attentive to their profit margins."

Adama shook his head. "I have no idea what you're getting at. I wish you would come to the point, Apollo."

"All right," Apollo replied quietly. "Who do you think would pay the most for a human, Father? Who would pay the most for a human military officer from a fleet that had escaped a war of annihilation?"

Starbuck's throat went dry and his heart thumped in his chest. Apollo said these words like it was a dare, his tone angry and cold. Athena had gone very pale, could only stare at her brother open-mouthed.

"Oh no," Adama whispered, "you couldn't have been…"

"I could. And I was. They sold me to the Cylon Empire."

*

Adama said nothing, but got to his feet and walked away. He stopped and stared out the portal, his back to them. Blood pounded in Starbuck's ears, and a mix of rage, sorrow and fear swept over him. Through his mind flashed a dream image: Apollo's eyes, reflecting silver. Cylon silver!

Adama spun around to face them again.

"Why," he demanded, his voice deadly quiet, "did you not tell me this until now?"

"The Fleet is not in any immediate danger," Apollo said.

"I will decide that!" Adama snapped, his voice rising in anger. "Why, in the name of every human survivor, would you keep this a secret? Your silence is treasonous, but I will hear your explanation."

Apollo seemed unable to reply, was too surprised by his father's anger. He closed his eyes and bowed his head, but this only further enraged Adama. The Commander strode swiftly across the room. He grabbed Apollo by his shirt front and hauled him roughly to his feet.

"I'm waiting," the Commander said.

"Father!" Athena cried. "Stop it - Please!"

Adama shook Apollo, it was all he could do to restrain himself from striking his son. But some vague modicum of self control kicked in, so he unclenched his fists, letting Apollo drop back into his chair.

"You had no right," Adama said, his voice shaking, "to withhold this information."

Still no reply from Apollo, who now stared up at his father in wide-eyed shock.

"How much did you tell the Cylons?" Adama demanded.

Tears that clouded Apollo's eyes, and he swallowed hard.

"I told them," he said, his voice choked, "whatever they wanted to know. I tried to lie, but they always knew when I was."

Adama put his hands to his head and turned away. He stumbled back to his chair and sank into it.

"I - I assume, at least, that they tortured it out of you," he stammered.

"So now you accuse me of collaboration!" Apollo shook his head and brushed angrily at his tears. "They're very efficient in their torturing. They find your threshold and take you there every time. I held off for a few days, but" - he broke off, closing his eyes, the memories too close to the surface - "but by then they'd crippled me. I couldn't even crawl. There was nothing but pain and the only way out was to talk, so I did."

"And yet you still live," Adama said. "Why is that, I wonder?"

"They're not tracking me, if that's what you're thinking," Apollo said, incredulously. "I'll undergo any medical examination. You won't find any implants."

"Well, after all this time, it wouldn't matter! They would already have their information!" Adama yelled, his temper erupting again.

Starbuck wanted to shrink down and cover his ears. It was terrible being a witness to this disintegration of the very force that had held this Fleet together since the beginning of their journey. This family alone had ensured survival of the human race, had stood firm through every crisis, but was being irrevocably torn apart now. Starbuck glanced across at Athena, who seemed to have folded into herself. She had her arms crossed over her stomach, and her fearful gaze shifted between her father and her brother. Many times before, he knew, she'd had to mediate in disputes between the Adama and Apollo, but there was nothing she could do now. Her helplessness was paralyzing her

"Why do you say that the Fleet's in no danger?" Starbuck asked, trying to steer things back towards a semblance of rationality. "With what you know, Apollo…"

There was no need to finish the thought.

"Yeah," Apollo said bitterly, "with what I know - my fine military mind, trained to remember everything… I kept hoping I'd die, but they wouldn't let me, did just enough to make sure I got through the next interrogation. I'm alive because of that, Dad. Because they always thought I had more to say."

"The Fleet, Apollo," Starbuck said impatiently. "What about the Fleet?"

Apollo looked at him, stared at him, actually. Starbuck shrank under the intensity of the gaze, now one of calm resignation.

"The Kaine were lazy," Apollo replied, still watching Starbuck, clinging to this sole bastion of sanity in the room. "So they didn't take me back to our home galaxy. There was an outpost much closer, on the outskirts of a system called Halen."

He paused, turning his gaze back to his father, obviously waiting for a response. Adama's frown deepened.

"Halen," the Commander said, "is controlled by the Prelar, and is well within reach of our ships, which means the Cylons could easily catch us."

"Yes," Apollo admitted, "but the outpost isn't there anymore. The Prelar protect their borders, destroy anyone that encroaches upon them, even small, defenceless outposts. The Empire never learned I was a captive, never got any of the information those Centurions tortured out of me. The Prelar destroyed the outpost first."

"How can you be certain of that?" Adama asked.

"They communicated through a system of relay satellites that only came into alignment every 5 weeks or so. I was taken there in the middle of a cycle, and was held for only 8 or 9 days. They couldn't have sent anything."

"How do you know so much about their communications?" Starbuck asked. "If you were their prisoner, they wouldn't have given you the grand tour."

"I know because I personally destroyed three of their satellites. And that's how the Prelar found the outpost, by tracking their transmissions which went out at that interval. So, the Fleet is safe, Commander. The Cylons are long gone from here."

Adama sat quietly for a few moments, absorbing Apollo's words, testing their veracity against what their own scanners had told them.

"I can't help but feel," Adama said finally, weighing each word, "that you're either lying to me or deliberately withholding information."

"I can give you the co-ordinates of the outpost. You can go have a look at the wreckage, if you like," Apollo replied.

"Yes, we will do that." Adama paused. "I suppose you must be very grateful to the Prelar, coming for you when they did."

"Well, I was glad to get out of there."

"I assume they attacked with fighters," Adama said. "Bombardment from the air."

"Yes," Apollo said warily, trying to anticipate the direction of the questioning.

"A miracle you survived then, isn't it?"

"I was held underground," Apollo said.

Adama nodded, rubbed his eyes wearily, the anger finally draining from him. Starbuck slowly filed away all this shocking information, reflecting that the rumours hadn't been that far off after all. Athena just stared at her brother, her expression unreadable, but then she found her voice.

"How could you do this to us?" she asked him.

"Do what?" Apollo replied.

"Come back here," she replied. "We'd be better off still thinking you were dead."

"Athena," Starbuck said, surprised by her harshness.

"It's true and you know it, Starbuck. If we do meet up with the Cylons one day, I'd rather it be by chance, not because of something my brother told them. Maybe you can believe this fantasy about them not transmitting to the Empire, but I don't."

She stood.

"If you'll excuse me, Father, I'd like to return to my quarters."

Adama nodded, and she quickly left. Apollo's gaze followed her until she was through the door.

"Sir," Starbuck said, "there's something else you should know."

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"I have reason to believe that Apollo will be leaving the Fleet when Daeshan returns."

"Is this true?" Adama asked Apollo.

Apollo hesitated, met his father's gaze for a moment, then looked away and nodded.

"Were you going to tell me that, or were you just going to leave?"

"I would have told you, when the time came," Apollo replied.

"And where are you and Daeshan going?" Adama inquired.

More hesitation, then a small shrug from Apollo, like it didn't matter anymore.

"Kemhai," he answered.

"To the war?"

"Yes."

"What, exactly, do you do for the Prelar?" Adama asked.

"Cargo transport."

"No, you don't. If you were only running cargo for them, they should be able to find another pilot, and you could stay here."

Apollo actually laughed. "Stay here?" he repeated. "You just called me a traitor a while ago." Then he turned serious again. "This isn't my life anymore, Dad. I can't have this."

"What do you mean?"

Apollo sighed, chose his words carefully.

"I didn't want to come back here," he said. "They forced me. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Before Adama could respond, the klaxons sounded, and the lights dimmed as all available power was re-routed to defences. Starbuck and the Commander were quickly on their feet.

"Commander to the Bridge. Commander to the Bridge," Tigh paged over the comm.

"Status, Colonel?" Adama replied through his combadge.

"Approximately one hundred unknown craft are headed towards us. I don't know where they came from, Sir. They just appeared."

"Don't launch the squadrons, Father," Apollo said.

"Stand by, Colonel," Adama said into his combadge.

"Why?" he asked Apollo.

"Those ships aren't coming for you."

"Who are they, then?"

"The Prelar," Apollo replied. "They're heading to Kemhai. If you let them pass, they won't harm the Fleet. But if they see squadrons of Vipers coming at them, they'll fight. And they'll win."

The Commander was momentarily paralyzed by indecision, but then tapped his combadge.

"Colonel, can you confirm that the ships are Prelaran?"

"One moment, sir… The computer indicates that they could be Prelaran, but can't confirm, as we've only ever seen one of their ships and it wasn't a fighter. Squadrons are ready to launch, Commander."

Apollo was shaking his head. "Don't launch," he said quietly.

Adama was shaken by Apollo's certainty - no, by his apparent authority - and believed him, even though it went against every defensive instinct. But Apollo had lied to them, was likely still lying.

"Commander - you are needed on the Bridge!" Tigh snapped.

"Stand by," Adama replied.

Apollo said: "I promise you they won't attack as long as you make no aggressive moves. Don't risk everyone's life."

They were no match for the Prelar, Adama knew, at even strength. At one hundred ships, they were hopelessly outnumbered.

"Commander!" Tigh called. "I'm giving the order to launch -"

"Belay that!" Adama replied. "Cancel launch, Colonel, and go to yellow alert."

"Sir! There are fighters coming towards us-"

"I am aware of the situation! Those are my orders, Colonel. Now cancel the launch!"

"Very well, sir," Tigh said, not hiding his displeasure. "Cancelling, and going to Yellow Alert." The lights came back up. Adama glared down at his son.

"I hope you're right, for all our sakes," he said, then he hurried out the door, heading for the Bridge.

*

Starbuck was left alone with him, was still standing in the same spot from when the Red Alert sounded. All he was aware of was the sound of his own breathing.

And pain. Stress pains in his chest and across his shoulders, and in his fingers where he'd been clenching his fists.

"Why did you want me here for this?" he asked.

"So I wouldn't have to explain everything twice."

"I didn't need to know. I didn't need everything shattered this way."

"Yes, you did need to know," Apollo said. "It'll be easier for you to let me go."

"Don't make it sound like you've done me a favour!" Starbuck snapped in a flash of anger. "And I don't understand your timing for revealing all this. Why now? Does it have something to do with those ships heading to Kemhai?"

"No, nothing to do with them." Apollo hesitated. "I want you to be thinking about the Cylons. I want you to be more watchful."

"Why?"

More hesitation, then a long, tired sigh.

"I was supposed to go with Daeshan. He's making a recon flight around Kemhai, but I wanted to stay here a little longer. It was really…stupid of me, to send him out by himself."

Starbuck sank onto the sofa. "What are you saying, Apollo?"

"The Prelar know where the Cylons are, Starbuck. They know how to contact them. If I don't do what I'm told, that's exactly what they're threatening to do. It's how they got me to agree to this whole operation."

"Oh my God," Starbuck said.

"Daeshan wouldn't volunteer the information, but if asked directly he'll have to say. I should have gone. I don't know what I hoped to achieve staying here for a few extra days."

Apollo spoke matter-of-factly, no emotion colouring his words at all. He was changing in some subtle, but unmistakable way. With his terrible confession out, the uncertainty had left him. Starbuck sensed growing coldness, like Apollo was finally cutting all ties to this place.

"What do you do for the Prelar?" Starbuck asked, echoing the Commander.

"Exactly what I was trained to do, so long ago on Caprica," Apollo replied. "I'm a soldier, just fighting for a different cause now."

"And what will you do on Kemhai?"

"Why do you want to know?" Apollo countered. "You want to see how far I've slipped? I'm not who I used to be, Starbuck. You just have to accept that." He got a distant, detached look in his eyes. "I wish I could burn out my memory and forget about all this. I don't want my past anymore."

He looked at Starbuck again.

"You know what the best part of this whole story is?" he asked.

Starbuck shook his head, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"The Kaine sold me twice," Apollo said, a cold smile on his lips, "to both the Cylons and the Prelar. The Confederacy always needs soldiers, especially highly trained ones, so they were very interested in acquiring me. But they let the Cylons break me first, to save them some work, and then played the hero and rescued me." He shook his head, still smiling like it was all a joke. "I know I should feel like a pawn," he continued, "that I should feel angry at all of them but I don't. Prelar is my home, now. I am a full citizen of the Confederacy, and have my own command in their armed forces. In fact, I hold a higher rank than Daeshan, so I'm not their slave, and I'll return to them willingly."

"But you should be here!" Starbuck exclaimed. "You're a human being, not a Prelar!"

"Yes, and as such I will do my best to protect you while you're in our space," Apollo promised. "But I am loyal to the Confederacy and it will come first if there is any conflict of interest. Tell the Commander that."

Starbuck got unsteadily to his feet, unable to take any more. There was nothing to say, and he knew that when he left this room, he wouldn't see Apollo ever again. All their past had been obliterated in the course of this long, torturous conversation. And yet, Starbuck wanted to know if he had touched Apollo at all, if there had been any love returned during their night together.

"Don't think about me like this," Apollo said, seemingly echoing Starbuck's thoughts. "Don't think about me at all."

*

The Prelar ships slipped quietly past the Fleet. Adama managed to quell the panic, and no one dared to confront them. On the scanners, they watched the destruction of Kemhai, as the fighters relentlessly fired on the surface, a massacre akin to what the Cylons had done the colonies. The surface of the planet was reduced to dust, fire, and rubble, the insurrection was most brutally and decisively put down.

Adama sat alone in the dark in his briefing room. He didn't need Apollo to tell him their role in this mass killing. The Fleet had been used to block signals from the attack force, effectively masking the fighters, saving them from detection. It was the only explanation for their sudden appearance, and for the lack of retaliatory fire from Kemhai. The world had been taken completely by surprise.

Daeshan would have been able to monitor both the attack force and Kemhai from the safe haven of the Galactica, had used Apollo to get on board.

Adama felt nauseous, tasted bile in his mouth.

And he'd had to allow Daeshan to come back. He had to allow the Prelar to take his son -

A small cry escaped him, but he quickly stifled it. Tears rolled from his eyes, and he wept, but silently, his mind filled with the cries of the dead, wailing against the darkness.

*

Starbuck stepped into the empty shuttle bay. The lights were low, and the air was cold, as it wasn't being used now that the Prelar had left for good. He didn't know why he was there; was he hoping to find some lingering image of Apollo? No, Apollo was lost 3 yahrens ago. This one that came back to them was just a shadow that looked like him.

Starbuck heard footsteps coming towards him, and he spun around, for an instant hoping that maybe Apollo hadn't left after all… but it was Athena. She stopped beside him and they both silently surveyed the empty bay.

"Tell me that this was all just a bad dream," she said.

"Can't."

"What happened to him, Starbuck, can you tell me what happened?"

"I think he came back here to make a choice," Starbuck replied, "and he made it. He had to decide who he was."

"So now I have no brothers," Athena said.

She took one last look at the spot where Apollo had first reappeared, then left the bay. Starbuck remained, letting the cold numb him on the outside so that it matched what lodged within him. And I, he thought, have nothing but dread for what might come. There is no light ahead of us, only darkness. All hope is lost…

He swayed a little on his feet, feeling dizzy. He turned to go, but a flash of reflected light from the middle of the bay caught his eye. He walked towards it, got down on his knees to feel around on the floor for whatever had shone so suddenly bright. His hand touched a small, silver box. He just held it and looked at it for a moment, then opened it, pulling back the lid. Within was a set of Captain's bars - Apollo's Captain's bars. There was an inscription on the inside of the lid. Starbuck turned it in the dim light until he could see what was written:

I am a
Warrior
from
The Great Colonies.
The fight shall
never be
over.

Starbuck closed the lid. Tears stung his eyes, as he struggled to stand, but he wasn't altogether sad. Apollo had left this for him to find, a reminder of what they once had. Don't give up, just because I have, was the message from Apollo. That had to be the message - Starbuck refused to consider any other possibilities.

"I will remember you as a Warrior," Starbuck murmured. "I will remember…"

THE END