BY YOUR COMMAND - Static ARCHIVE

Chapter 19

Lomas and Cree followed two cylon centurions along metallic and glass-covered corridors of the base ship 7. They kept walking in silence. The centurions never said a word. Cree was too afraid to speak. And Lomas was way too deep inside his own world to even think about something so shallow as speaking.

The walk seemed to take forever. Cree was already so totally lost. If for some reason he now had to find his way back to the shuttle on his own, without a map, a compass and a radar he would be in deep felgercarb.

Cree glanced at Lomas. For lords' sakes, the man was grinning idiotically like he was on his way to a pajama party. Cree rolled his eyes. He sure had a bad feeling about this.

They came to a glass door. One of the cylon centurions pressed a red button and the door opened, revealing an enormous chamber with no other furnishing than a huge black chair placed on a pedestal that must have been at least three metrons tall.

"Hello Baltar."

Cree jumped in the air as he heard Lomas' voice.

The huge chair started to turn.

Cree held his breath. He had never seen Baltar before and he wasn't really looking forward to that happening now either.

"Son…" Baltar's grin slowly turned to a leer. "Well, isn't this a co-incidence. What are doing in my neighbourhood?"

Lomas didn't answer. He smiled at Baltar, sarcastically.

Baltar arouse from the chair, leering, not taking his eyes away from his guests. "How nice of you to pop in and say hi. Should I perhaps offer you a cup of tea or something?"

"A gentleman, as always." Lomas smiled coolly.

"That's me." Baltar grinned, his eyes lingering on Lomas for a long time. Then he turned to look at the two centurions. "Leave us."

"By your command." The cylons turned and walked out of the chamber.

Baltar looked at Lomas again. "Now, why don't you tell me what brings you here. And don't tell me you just happened to be passing by…"

Cree was silently thanking the sagans for Baltar seeming to have completely ignored his presence in the chamber. Quietly Cree backed further into the dark shadows, closer to the wall, and and tried to become invisible.

"Baltar…" Lomas started.

"Please!" Baltar grinned. "Why don't you call me dad!"

"Baltar." Lomas smiled. "I'm here to accomplish something that can no longer be put aside."

"Is that so?" Baltar eyed Lomas. "Well, why don't you ease my excitement and then tell me what it is."

"You know exactly what it is, DAD." Lomas smiled, coldly.

"Hey, the boy said the d-word." Baltar grinned. "There's hope for you yet…"

"Well, I always was a quick learner, wasn't I, DAD." Lomas kept his cold eyes on Baltar.

"Oh dear. Do I detect sarcasm." Baltar descended from the podium and started walking closer to Lomas. "Yes, sonny. Indeed you were a quick learner…" Baltar reached the younger man's side and remained standing in front of him, not turning his gaze away from Lomas' eyes. "But obviously not quick enough." Baltar smiled "Remember when I taught you the most important lesson of your life."

Lomas stared at Baltar. "And what might that have been?"

"Don't tell me you don't remember!" Baltar pretended to be shocked.

Lomas hated the man. "Well, why don't you refresh my memory."

Baltar grinned. "Always remember to eat your parbon berries with a touch of whipped cream."

The older man laughed. Lomas wanted to strangle him.

Then Baltar syddenly stopped laughing. He kept his eyes lingering on Lomas. You were such an immense possibility, sonny." Baltar spoke. "I almost believed in you… I was almost…attached to you…" Baltar lifted his hand and gave in to an urge to touch Lomas' cheek, very lightly. A what could have been a glimpse of sorrow darkened his face for a fraction of a micron and then dissappeared. "What changed your fragility son? Why did you end up rejecting me…"

"Why did you lock the door, sonny…" Baltar was standing in the bedroom doorway, holding a master key in his hand.

"I'm sorry, dad. " Little Lomas was swallowing tears. "I don't know why I lock it… I guess I was afraid of the dark…I didn't meant to…"

Baltar leered. "You were afraid of the monsters under the bed, weren't you." Baltar stepped into the room and quietly close the door behind him. "Well, aren't you just the stupedest little kid in the universe. Don't you know that you couldn't have locked those monsters out by locking the door? You would have locked them in the room, with you…" Baltar smiled. "But daddy's here now. Daddy's here to protect you from all the monsters…"

Lomas grabbed Baltar's wrist and forced his hand away. "My fragility was never the one to change. I always remained fragile." Lomas eyed Baltar with so much hatred. "I changed, because you broke me."

* * *

Starbuck was quietly sneaking down the corridors towards what he knew would be Baltar's throne chamber. As he was about to enter the hallway of the third section, a group of cylon warriors came into view and Starbuck quickly withdrew into a dent in the wall to hide himself from their sight.

Starbuck's hand lightly touched his holster, but he didn't draw out the laser gun. In order to succeed in confronting Baltar the way he wanted to, Starbuck knew he needed to remain in total secrecy. And to be able to do that, he would have to avoid all the unnecessary shooting to the very last. The viper was definately the weak point in the plan. Starbuck could only hope to sagans that no one would notice his viper on the fourth deck or he would be in deep felgercarb.

Starbuck carefully looked at each direction to make fracking sure the group of cylons had disappeared from view. Then he started down the corridor.

* * *

"Sentimental felgercarb." Baltar snorted. "You always wanted to be physically close to me, sonny. And you deserved to be punished because you knew that your closeness would lure me..."

"You are such a bad boy, sonny." Baltar's hand was slowly moving up inside little Lomas' night gown. "Maybe I Should hurt you this time, son. Would that feel nice?"

Lomas cleched his teeth together and squeezed his eyes shut.

Baltar took a tight hold of Lomas' little wrist. He forced the boy's hand into his trousers.

Lomas didn't allow himself to cry. He had already cried so many times that the tears didn't express anything any more. Lomas didn't plead, he didn't make a sound when Baltar's hurtful grip directed Lomas hand to move up and down on his hardened penis. Lomas was already so far, far away. Riding his white unicorn on the moonlit suburbian streets of Caprica City. Laughing with elfs in the secret garden of imagination. Holding faraway stars in his hands while flying through the most distant milky ways. Smiling to another smiling face as the friendship he had always yearned for but never found, had finally arrived and filled his empty heart.

Lomas kept his eyes closed and pretended not to hear the whispers and sighs of his father's dark passion.

"I will tell you a secret, dad." Lomas was staring Baltar's face. "I never forgot the darkness of your whispers. I still hear them in my nightmares when I am awake."

"Oh well, didn't one wise man once say: Listen to your father." Baltar grinned and turned away from Lomas. "I guess you took that a little too literally…"

Baltar gasped as a blade was suddenly pressed against his throat. "What the frack are you doing sonny. Didn't anyone teach you that you should never play with dangerous toys…"

"Shut up dad." Lomas' voice was a mere whisper. He firmly held onto Baltar from behind, with one hand around the man's chest and the other pressing the blade of a carving knife hurtfully against the skin on the man's throat. "Maybe I should hurt you this time, daddy. Would that feel nice…"

* * *

Another cylon squadron. For frack's sake this place was swarming with those parasites. Starbuck had to grin to that logic. This was, after all, a cylon base ship… Okay, two more corridors to go…

* * *

"Don't be a fool sonny." Baltar croaked. "You will not accomplish anything by killing me."

"Maybe not, but how does this feel like, dad?" Lomas' voice lingered very close to Baltar's ear. "Do you like being the helpless one?"

"How does this feel like, son?…" Baltar was so close that his lips were almost touching little Lomas' face as he spoke. Lomas couldn't move. Baltar was pressing him firmly on the bed. "You need to be taught a little lesson on disobedience, my son."

Lomas didn't answer. He was frightened.

"No dinner tonight, sonny." Baltar smiled. "You are going to stay in this room until daddy comes back with gardening scissors and cuts you little dick off. That's what happens to naughty little boys when they are bad. When they do bad things like you…" Without saying anything more, Baltar arose from the bedside. He switched off the light in the room as he walked out, locking the door behind him.

Lomas was afraid to close his eyes. He remained still, lying on the bed in the darkness waiting for the monsters to crawl out from under the bed. Waiting for his daddy to come back with the gardening scissors…

"The worst part of it all, dad…" Lomas whispered. "Was that you blamed me for your own sickness. And guess what…" Lomas breath caressed Baltar's ear. "I ended up believing it too… I ended up blaming myself."

"But my dear son…" Baltar croaked and grinned so a row of teeth appeared. "It really was all your fault!"

Lomas smiled."You had your time for games, daddy dearest…"

Baltar felt the knife being pressed tighter against his throat. He gasped.

Lomas leant very close to whisper into Baltar's ear. "Now daddy, it is finally your time to die."

"Hey, hold on a micron!!"

Baltar, Lomas and Cree lifted their very surprised, disbelieving eyes and saw Starbuck in the chamber doorway, pointing his laser gun towards the three men.

Lomas didn't loosen his hold on Baltar. The knife was still very much pressed against the older man's throat. However, Lomas couldn't turn his amazed, intrigued eyes away from Starbuck.

Baltar lifted one eyebrow. "Well, isn't this a day for surprises..."

"It warms my heart to see such loving family reunions." Starbuck grinned. "I hope you don't mind if I join in. After all, I am a part of the family, aren't I…"

Baltar's jaw dropped all the way to the floor. "What? For Kobol's sake Bucky boy. You've obviously been travelling in space much too long. You've lost all your fracking sense!"

"Not quite. Let me tell you a little story. Starbuck kept his eyes on Baltar. "A couple of days ago, your obviously very loving sibling here…" Starbuck nodded at Lomas' direction, "decided to make my day by telling me that we are the same blood. You and me Baltar. Father and the long lost son."

"Don't make me laugh!…" Baltar sneered.

Lomas was looking at Starbuck but his words were aimed at Baltar. "He is your blood, father. The son you thought you never had."

Baltar couldn't answer. This was too much, even from the mouth of his insane son.

"Remember dad, how you once told me a story of a baby who died inside her mother's womb just centons before he was due to be born…" Lomas continued, sarcastically. "Well father, you were fooled big time. The baby was born. You just were never told about him. Mum kept him a secret from you." Lomas smiled. "How does it feel like to find out you were deceited, Baltar…"

Baltar couldn't believe what the crazy daggit was telling him. "The baby was born dead, you fool. They showed me the body…"

They showed you a body, period." Lomas smiled. "But not the body of your son."

"You are out of your mind…" Baltar snorted.

"Mother hated the real you, Baltar. She tried everything in her power to free herself from you." Lomas eyes were cold. "When she became pregnant the first time, she was shattered. She realized you would never let her go now, so she tried to escape by lying to you. " Lomas smiled. "And that's exactly what she did daddy dearest. She lied to you. The baby was definately not a stillborn but very much alive when he was thrown into a garbage can…"

"And how would you know?" Baltar eyed Lomas with contemp. "You weren't even born."

"I'll come to that…" Lomas' didn't bother to react to anything that Baltar might say or do. He continued speaking. "And, of course, knowing what a bastard you are, you never did let mother go. Oh no. You even sank low enough to blame her for losing that child, didn't you." Lomas voice was now so sad. "And then you forced her to become pregnant a second time…" Lomas paused for a centons as if he was trying to remember the face of his mother. "Why father?" Lomas lifted his eyes and looked at Baltar. "You already had so much power over so many people. Why couldn't you just let her go! You didn't need her. And you sure didn't love her." Lomas paused. He smiled, ironically. "But you know what, Baltar. She did escape from you in the end. She escaped by finally committing suicide, five years after I was born." Lomas closed his eyes. "You broke her. Just like you broke me. But unfortunately she was always the more fragile one. She didn't survive…"

"you are out of your mind." Baltar almost spat out the words.

"And when mother was dead, father. What did you do…" Lomas suddenly put more pressure on the blade on Baltar's throat. A drop of blood appeared and started curling down. "You turned your power on me, so I had to come up with something that might possibly save me. And I did…" Lomas turned his eyes on Starbuck. "I found out about you…"

Baltar's voice was still full of contemp. "You are such a little liar. There was no way you could have been able to dig up something that had been buried six yahrens before. Even I never found out about the existence of another son..." Lomas looked at Baltar. "That's because I searched for him, dad. You didn't…"

Starbuck swallowed. "How can you be so sure it was me? That's impossible…"

Lomas turned to look at Starbuck. "As I said. I searched. I found out the truth. Don't bother to imagine that I could be mistaken, because I am not. You are the brother that was supposed to be dead."

"But…" Starbuck had a frack of a hard time accepting this. "This is total felgercarb…"

There is no but." Lomas' face was almost expressionless. "You are the one."

Starbuck paused. He mind lingered to the distorted memories of the forbidden city. There was no way to explain how, but Starbuck knew he was the supposed to be dead son of Baltar. Perhaps the distortions in memories had revelations of the subconsciousness. Metaphors of the hidden but existing. Or maybe the sagan forsaken black queen was interfering. But whatever it was, Starbuck had been shown the truth. And somehow he had known it all along.

Baltar stared at Starbuck, grinning. "Well, I'll be damned!"

Starbuck eyed Lomas. "Why did you search for your brother… for me…"

Lomas was silent for a while. His gaze lingered on Starbuck. An uninterpreted gaze. "I kept believing that if I found you…" Lomas spoke, this time with sadness. "I might be able to turn my father's dark passion away from myself…"

Starbuck stared at Lomas. "Wait a centon…"

"But you turned your back on me." Lomas eyed Starbuck, now with hatred. "You didn't give a frack about the truth! So easily you denied me and left me facing my nightmares alone and defenseless…"

"Hey, hey, hey. Hold on here! I was just a child when you came to me." Starbuck cut in. "Besides, you can't place the guilt on my shoulders, damn it! In no way could I have been able to change your life…"

"Yes, you could have." Lomas eyed Starbuck, wearily. "And the saddest part is that you don't realize it at all." Lomas was suddenly so tired. So empty.

He let go of Baltar.

The older man's legs failed him and he fell to the floor, holding his hand on the little wound on his throat.

Lomas looked at Starbuck again. "But you are here now. This time you did not let me down."

"What?" Starbuck eyed Lomas warily. "You are starting to talk felgercarb again."

"I almost lost faith in your darker strengh." Lomas smiled a little. "But I'm glad to see that even I can make a mistake."

"Errr… What the frack are you talking about?" Starbuck stared at Lomas.

"You came here for one reason, didn't you." Lomas was still smiling. "To get revenge on the man who destroyed our childlike innocence. Mine by bringing the monsters alive, yours by abandonment."

"Hey, Hold on a centon. I did have a great childhood at first. I did have a family…"

For a while, yes." Lomas admitted. "But then you faced another abandonment, didn't you."

"Umm, I don't quite see how that could be Baltar's fault…" Starbuck was still staring at Lomas.

"Everything you were never able to run away from. All the things that you didn't want to face in yourself…" Lomas started walking closer to Starbuck. "All those things are what Baltar is responsible for."

"Yeah, that's what I thought at first, after our little friendly chat on the Sagittarian." Starbuck nodded. "But I was very wrong."

"No, you weren't wrong, Starbuck." Lomas was still walking closer. "You released your hatred then, and you can release it again now." Lomas smiled. "You did come here for a reason didn't you Starbuck."

"Well, yes… yes, of course." Starbuck was now very suspicious of Lomas' motives. Frack he was always suspicious of Lomas' motives…

"And that reason…" Lomas stopped in front of Starbuck. Too close, Starbuck took a couple of steps backwards. It amused Lomas. "Well, there's no use repeating myself, is there. I just said what the reason was, and I was right."

"Okay, I admit I was angry. Frack I was furious. I hated Baltar for being my father. Most of all I hated you for being my brother and for being honest with me… ummm, those amongst so many other things…" Starbuck grinned. Then the expression on his face became more serious again. "Yes, I wanted to confront Baltar, and I would be a sagan forsaken liar if I denied that killing Baltar never crossed my mind." Starbuck kept his gaze on the other man's waterpond eyes. "But I guess you are the one I should now thank you for making me realize how stupid that would have been." "What?" Starbuck's last words made Lomas lost control for a micron. That was a micron too much. The rivers broke free.

"Baltar is not responsible for any darkness in me, Lomas." Starbuck continued. "He's just a pitiful old goat who was, and always will be, idiotic enough to push away everyone who could have stood by him one day."

Lomas was glaring at Starbuck.

"I admit that what the goat did to you was… a frack of a lot more than plainly unforgivable." Starbuck's eyes were sympathetic. "But just because someone has sank undescribably low, it doesn't give the others the right to sink down to the same level. Yes, revenge can be the sweetest pleasure, but in the end it is only a weakness."

"Beautiful. And so believable. You are such a genius Starbuck." Lomas applaused by clapping his hands. "But aren't you forgetting something."

Starbuck eyed the man. "What?"

Lomas' eyes were amused as he kept looking at Starbuck for a long time. Alarm bells should have started ringing in Starbuck's head. He should have recognized this version of Lomas. He had seen it before. The man with serene waterpond eyes had become a fiend. Lomas smiled. "You're not my shrink."

He attacked Starbuck, who was unprepaired for such immense physical strentgh.

The first strike was bad. Starbuck felt dizzy long enough to allow Lomas to have total control. Lomas kept on hitting Starbuck, scratching him in the face, biting him like a wild animal.

The worst thing was that Lomas was still holding onto the fracking knife and tried to stab the blade into anything he could.

Starbuck cried out from pain as Lomas kicked him in the stomach. He bent over and Lomas used this moment to strike a hard hit on Starbuck's head. Starbuck fell to the floor, half unconscious but still trying to cover his head with his hands to avoid more of Lomas' kicks and strikes…

Lomas stopped. He remained standing beside Starbuck, staring at the man. "You are so ridiculously weak, brother dearest." Lomas spoke. "I despise myself to have ever believed that someone like you could ever be an accomplice to someone like me."

Starbuck was quietly moaning.

"I despise myself for hoping. even for a micron, that you could ever be strong enough for revenge." Lomas was still eyeing the man on the floor. "How could I ever have seen a glimpse of me in you, when I should have noticed from the very beginning that your rivers were just non-existent puddles." Lomas didn't really want to waste any more time on this meaningless daggit. He kicked at Starbuck one more time on his thigh and leered. "I pity you, brother dearest. I pity you."

Lomas turned. "Hey father. Why don't we pick up from where we left." Lomas grinned and suddenly dashed towards the older man.

Baltar grimaced and quickly reached for his laser gun. Lomas was quicker. He kicked the gun out of Baltar's hand. The older man took a couple of steps backwards, holding his hurting hand and eyeing Lomas with disbelief, but most of all with hatred and contempt.

Lomas was pointing the knife at Baltar. "Come to my arms, daaad." Lomas sneered. "Let's refresh all those wonderful father-son memories."

Baltar snorted.

Lomas kept the knife steady and his eyes on the older man as he slowly moved over towards the gun he had kicked out of Baltar's hands. He knealt down to pick it up from the floor. "Thanks for the gun, daaad. " Lomas smiled. "Or, on the second thought. Perhaps you should rather thank me…"

Baltar eyed his obviously insane sibling. "And why in the heavens' names would I do that, sonny."

Lomas took his time before he answered. "You see, daaad. At first I planned that I would slowly cut you to pieces with my knife and really make you suffer…"

Baltar sneered. "Is that so."

Lomas' eyes narrowed. "Don't tempt me…"

Baltar grinned and his teeth showed. "I wouldn't dream of it, sonny."

Lomas eyed Baltar. "But now that I'm such a lucky owner of your laser gun, I could kill you faster and you wouldn't have to suffer so much. Doesn't that sound great." Lomas paused. "Although suffering would be something you definately deserve…"

"Killed by a laser gun. Well, aren't I a lucky son of a daggit." Baltar's face didn't reflect any kind of fear. Only contempt. "Then, why don't you get it over with and get the frack away from my ship. This conversation is starting to bore the felgercarbs out of me…"

Lomas smiled. "Playing touch, I notice. Well, don't bother, dad. I can see the real you. I can see the fear."

Baltar didn't aswer.

Lomas walked around Baltar and stopped behind the man. He moved very close, so close that his face was only millimetrons away from Baltar's occiput as he whispered. "Enjoying the closeness, daaad… Like in the old days…" Lomas put the gun against Baltar's head. "It's your choice now, daddy dearest. Will it be the gun, or will it be the knife…" Lomas smiled. "Your choice… But make up your mind quickly. My hand is getting tired."

"I choose the holiday on Aries." Baltar leered.

Lomas fell silent. He didn't say a word when he slowly moved further away from Baltar and even took his eyes off the older man for a fraction of a moment. Then Lomas suddenly turned. He raised the gun and smiled. "Goodbye Baltar."

"Not so fast!"

Agitated Lomas turned. His furious eyes spotted Starbuck, who had managed to arise from the floor and was pointing his laser gun at Lomas. "This is beginning to feel like a sarcastic joke, Starbuck." Lomas spoke, irritated. "Why don't you just mind your own business and let me take care of the rest." Lomas smiled a little. "After all, one couldn't trust you to do the tough job in the first place, could he…"

"I'm warning you Lomas." Starbuck's hand didn't flinch. "Baltar and I might not be the best of buddies, but I still won't allow you to kill him." Lomas raised one eyebrow. "Oh really? And may I ask why?"

"Because, although he's a sagan forsaken crook, a despicable traitor and a pitiful jerk…"

"I beg your pardon!" Baltar raised one eyebrow.

Starbuck kept his voice calm. "…It still doesn't give you the right to play sagan and take his life."

"Hold on here!" Lomas couldn't believe his ears. "And this statement from a man who has killed more beings that he can possibly count…"

"For self protection." Starbuck wasn't going to let Lomas' sarcasm infuriate him. "And for the protection of the fleet. I have never killed anyone without a very good reason."

"Well, I have a good reason." Lomas grinned, darkly. "So why don't you bugger off and let me finish what should have been finished 25 yahrens ago."

Lomas once again looked away from Starbuck and pointed his gun at Baltar. His finger started putting pressure on the trigger.

"I'm warning you." Lomas heard Starbuck's voice. "Put down that gun."

"Frack off!" Lomas aimed the gun at Baltar's head.

"Don't be such a naive fool, sonny." Baltar spoke. "Do you really think that I would be careless enough to carry only one weapon…"

"Shut up, dad." Lomas kept his eyes of hatred on Baltar.

"I'm not kidding…" Baltar smiled. "Don't be a fool now…"

"Put the gun down. Lomas" Starbuck kept his alert eyes on Lomas. "Don't give me a reason to interfere…"

"Please, Starbuck." Cree's trembling voice came from somewhere in the shadows. "Don't hurt him, please…"

"Lomas, for frack's sake!" Starbuck was shouting. "If there is any sense left in your sagan forsaken empty head… "

"Too late, Bucko!" Lomas pressed the trigger. "Be nice to the devil, dad…" Starbuck aimed at Lomas…

Cree saw Baltar raising a laser gun…

"NOOOOOO!!!" Cree screamed. He flew out of the shadows and dived in front of Lomas to cover his beautiful mentor with his body. "LOMAAAAAAASSS!!!! NOOOOO!!!

A laser beam hit Cree and the boy cried out from extreme pain. Blood burst out of the boy's chest and his legs suddenly failed him. With a stunned expression on his young face Cree grabbed a desperate hold of Lomas' tunic and tried so hard to remain alive. "Help me, Lomas. Take me away from this cold darkness…" Cree's whisper was hardly a sigh. He still tried to hold onto Lomas tunic, but slowly, unavoidably Cree fell to the floor, his eyes still remaining wide open. Scared. Forlorn… "I love you, beautiful Lomas." …And now blind.

Baltar stared at the dying boy with an unreadable, blank look on his face. He was holding a laser gun in his limp hand and smoke was slowly curling out of the gun's pipe.

Starbuck buried his face into his hands.

"Cree!!!" Lomas grabbed the boy's limp body and held it against his chest. "Cree, don't leave me, please." Lomas didn't even realize he was crying. "Cree, my little angel face… You can't leave me… Don't you dare to leave me!! Didn't you just promise me to stay with me eternally. Then hold onto your promises, you fool!"

Lomas' voice faded. His words drowned into a flood of tears of extreme agony. Tears of the utmost guilt. He kept holding Cree against his chest, kissing the top of the boy's head, caressing the shaggy sandy hair tenderly with his lips and his hands.

"Cree… I'm so sorry!…" Lomas closed his eyes. "I'm so sorry…"

Lomas knelt down and gently placed Cree's lifeless body on the floor, keeping his forlorn eyes on the boy. How beautiful Cree now looked through the veil of tears. "We were the same kind…" Lomas kissed Cree's forehead. "And I did care…"

Slowly, powerlessly Lomas arose from the floor. He remained standing there, beside Cree for centons. "Why for frack's sake did you have to be such a stubborn nuisance, Cree! Didn't I tell you not to come, damn it!…" Lomas had to look away. "I did love you…"

So wearily Lomas turned towards Baltar. "You took away everything beautiful father. My innocence, my freedom, my hopes and my belief. My life…"

A tear was slowly rolling down Lomas' cheek. He didn't notice it.

"And how you replaced them with darkness, whispers and rivers, hatred…You filled me with only death, father…"

Lomas turned and slowly walked to the glass doors of the throne chamber. Once more he lifted his eyes and looked back at Starbuck, and then at Baltar.

"…But worst of all father, you deprived love." Lomas' voice was so fragile, so forlorn. "You made both of my angels fly away. Now I'm alone." Lomas turned to go. "Now I'm dead."

He walked out of the chamber.

* * *

Chapter 20

"Father and son, huh! Well, what do you know…"

Starbuck, who had stared at the empty doorway for a long time after Lomas had left, turned and saw Baltar's ironic eyes looking at him.

"Isn't this just terribly amusing." Baltar's eyes were twinkling. "Had someone come to me yesterday and told me that I'm the lucky father of the most hotheaded hero of the Galactica. Blood relation to the dearest companion of Adama's son…" Baltar grinned. "I would have pushed him right out of the airlock and laughed myself to death!"

Starbuck didn't answer. He walked over to Cree's body and knealt down beside it. "Goodbye, friend." Starbuck whispered. "Take care of yourself, wherever you will go…" Starbuck bent down and kissed Cree's forhead. Then he raised his eyes to notice that Baltar was walking towards him. Starbuck stood up, not taking his eyes off the leering Baltar.

"But what do you know, Starbuck. Life sure seems to have a tendency to surprise the frack out of you sometimes, doesn't it." Baltar raised one eyebrow. "And to be honest, things could've turned out worse." Baltar leered. "My dear long lost son could have turned out to be one of the felgercarb recyclers on the sanitation ship." Baltar stopped in front of Starbuck, still leering at him. "Welcome to the family Starbuck." Baltar grinned. "My son, the fanatic…"

"Why don't we just pretend that this touching revelation never took place." Starbuck smiled at Baltar, sarcastically. "As far as I'm concerned, you never were, and never will be, my father. To me you will always remain the pitiful traitor of human race, an old goat who is alive today only because of the deceitful mercy of some vicious machines."

Baltar eyed Starbuck, freezingly. "Be careful, sonny, or I will send some of those so-called vicious machines after you…"

"No you won't." Starbuck smiled. "If I spot even one of your metal daggits on my scanner, I will make a sharp V-turn and come back here to finish off what your other fanatic son started." Starbuck intended to go, but he still kept his ironic eyes on Baltar for a micron longer. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm off to the Galactica. And please, don't bother to try to track me, Baltar. My viper will be invisible on your radars…" Starbuck grinned. "Thanks for dinner dad, and let's not keep in touch."

Starbuck walked to Cree, picked up his limp body and then turned and walked out of the chamber.

Baltar stared after him, leering. "See you again, sonny!" Starbuck heard Baltar's sarcastic laughter echoing from behind. "Don't get into too much trouble before that!"

* * *

Athena heard the glass door closing behind her. She didn't turn.

Jolly was shocked. He stared at the brown-haired woman for centons, totally lost for words. He still couldn't believe he had just arrested Athena. For lords' sakes, Athena, of all people. Not only was she a fellow officer, but she was the beautiful sister of Apollo, the lovable daughter of the fleet's commander, and last but not least, a good friend too. Jolly swallowed. "Athena, I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Athena's voice was blank. She didn't turn to look at Jolly. "If you don't mind, I would like to be alone for a while…"

"Sure…" Jolly felt so helpless. He eyed Athena compassionately a little while longer and then turned and walked away from the prison barge cell section beta. Athena stared at a cell wall. She didn't want to think about anything.

Where was the adrenaline rush now, huh… What happened to the thrill and the saganliness… The only thing Athena was now feeling was numbness. And yes, indifference.

Still, she couldn't shed the image of her father's face…

The shuttle from the Tauranian had landed on the Galactica on schedule. Athena had followed the other passengers out of the vehicle, smiling brighter like the suns on Cerigta, feeling like she never thought could be possible. Athena was sure the other passengers must have noticed how her eyes were sparkling and heard how her heart was beating a million hectares per centon…

Then she had noticed Adama.

"Father?" She smiled. "What are you doing down here?"

Adama didn't answer. He just kept his eyes on his daughter.

Athena felt a tingle of disturbance. Not really a shudder of warning yet, just a little shiver of uncomfort. "Father, I thought you would be on duty on the bridge…"

"I am on duty." Adama answered, slowly, wearily.

"You are?…" The discomfort intensified, turning to a wave of hidden anxiety. "Are you waiting for a shuttle or..."

Athena noticed two Galactican officers standing behind Adama, one of which was one very grave-faced wing sergeant Jolly.

"Hi Jolly, how are you?…"Athena smiled at him. The wing sergeant tried to smile back in a strangely encouraging way, but the smile was a failure.

"Hello Athena…"

At that micron Athena knew. She was in felgercarb…

Adama looked away from his daughter and turned to face the two officers behind him. "Take her to the prison barge."

Athena felt all the blood suddenly disappeared from her head. She had to struggle to remain calm. How the frack did they find out!!! "You're mistaken father. I haven't…"

Adama turned.

Athena swallowed. She had never seen such a cold look in those blue eyes before.

"Why, Athena?" The quiet, forlorn question echoed in the landing bay. "What were you searching that didn't I give you?"

"Father, I'm really sorry." Athena stuttered. "I never meant to… I didn't think…I mean…"

"I'm sorry too." The old man said.

Not once did Adama turn to look back at his daughter as he walked away from the landing bay.

* * *

Frack! Frack! Frack! Starbuck couldn't believe it. His viper was gone!

Starbuck placed Cree's body on the floor, spotted a screwdriver near his foot and kicked it, cursing out loud. Starbuck knew very well who the daggit was that had taken the damn craft. Oh, you could always count on Lomas to put you in deep felgercarb. The man was a master at that.

"I'm definately going to kick that boray in the cojones the next time I see him!" Starbuck mumbled half aloud and kicked more stuff on the floor. "Just great! Now what?" Starbuck eyed around the deck 4. He couldn't spot any other vehicles besides cylon fighters and Starbuck wasn't exactly willing to take a risk by trying to approach the Galactica with an enemy ship. Damn it, the Galacticans would be sure to shoot him before he even had time to identify himself.

Hey wait a centon, Starbuck lifted his head. Lomas and Cree obviously couldn't fly, so they hadn't come here by using their own wings. There had to be another vehicle.

Starbuck eyed the are of deck four more carefully. Where the frack was that vehicle. It had to be here…

Two cylons entered the deck area and Starbuck quickly found a hiding place behind a cylon fighter. Cree's body was next to him and Starbuck hoped to sagan the cylons wouldn't think of looking at the fighter too carefully or they would notice Cree's legs…

Starbuck grinned as unexpectedly spotted a Piscenian shuttle on the left side of the deck, approximately fourty metrons away from him. Lomas' shuttle. Brilliant. Luck hadn't obviously turned its back on him yet…

The cylons seemed to hang around the deck area forever. Starbuck's back was beginning to ache from all the crouching and his legs were starting to stiffen. What the frack were they doing, anyway. They sure had picked a funny place for a picnic…

A third cylon entered the area. He walked to the other ones and Starbuck could easily hear the metallic-voiced discussion of which he couldn't understand felgercarb. It was something about the hermetic modulation of passive cyclon-sequence-separators.

Jeeez, Starbuck had hardly understood anything about the modulation of regular alpha-sequencers, about which some instruction specialists in the academy had held a couple of obligatory remediations. Starbuck had,of course, slept like a baby with a clear concience through those lessons, even though Apollo had been kicking Starbuck's leg the whole fracking time… And just his luck to end up in a situation where you had to listen to the same felgercarb about the triple-form modulating all over again, but this time from the cylonic technical point of view… phew!

After what seemed like a hundred yahrens to Starbuck the cylons finally left the are and Starbuck creeped out from behind the fighter. Okay, where was the shuttle again. The left side of the deck, great.

Starbuck ran to the vehicle and his smile must have been from one ear to the other when he noticed that the shuttle doors weren't looked. Starbuck climbed in and hurried to the cockpit. This baby sure was abnormally well equipped for a shuttle, Starbuck noted. He sat down on the seat, next to the solium control mechanism and pressed down seven green buttons to prepair the shuttle for start-up. The solium mechanism started squeeking like mad and Starbuck jumped at least ten metrons in the air. "What the frack?…" Starbuck frowned. The solium readings showed that all the containers were empty. Well, sagan damn it, of course they were empty. Starbuck should have come to think of it earlier. How could he have forgotten such an important detail.

Okay, if Lomas had had any braincells at all left in his head he must have known that after such a long flight to the base ship, the viper couldn't possibly contain enough fuel to carry all the way back to fleet. The solium tanks were not large enough. Frack! Starbuck should have remembered that himself. Then why hadn't he!!!!

Starbuck swiched off the squeeking control mechanism and prayed to sagans that the high-pitched noise hadn't lured any curious cylons to the fourth deck. Starbuck listened quietly for awhile. Nothing alarming. No footsteps. No metallic voices. Great. Starbuck stared at the zero readings on the solium control and tried to think. Lomas obviously had had the sense to fill the viper tanks with the solium that was still left in the shuttle. Good for him, a nightmare for Starbuck. Starbuck sighed. Okay, there were not too many choices to choose from. He had to either take a risk and steal one of the cylon fighters or he would have to stay here on this forsaken base ship and start playing happy family with Baltar…

Starbuck felt an irresistible urge to quote Baltar and choose the holiday on Aries. By Kobol, he sure was in need of a holiday. Okay, it was going to be a cylon craft. Starbuck just had to find a suitable one and refresh his memory how to operate those felgercarbs. Yeah, and Starbuck sure hoped to sagan that the bridge officers of the Galactica would receive his identification code in time…

* * *

Boomer was humming to himself and playing with a toothpick.

"Would you cut it out." Apollo glanced at the dark lieutenant, who was sitting opposite him. "You're making me nervous."

"You already are nervous. It's not the toothpick…"

"I don't understand where Starbuck could possibly be!" Apollo's voice was angry. "And I can't believe that Adama didn't give us permission to go and search for him, when he knows so well that Starbuck means more to me than my own life."

"Calm down, Apollo." Boomer glanced at a group of cadets who entered the officers club, chattering loudly. They reminded him of Cree…

"We couldn't have gone after Starbuck in the first place, because we have no fracking clue of his whereabouts." Boomer put the toothpick into his mouth like a fumarello, eyeing Apollo. "And I'm not very thrilled about the idea of getting lost in space…"

"I would die for Starbuck." Apollo didn't look at Boomer.

"I know. And if it came to that, I would too. "Boomer's tone was serious. "But I don't think Starbuck wants us killed. I don't think that was his intention."

"Then tell me, damn it, what was his intention." Apollo snapped.

"We have been through this before, Apollo." Boomer kept his eyes on his friend. "Something happened right before we left for Probability, right? And knowing how stubborn Starbuck can sometimes be, I'm sure he just wanted to take that something off our shoulders…"

"He's a sagan forsaken fool…"

Yes, occationally." Boomer smiled. "But a well-intentioned fool."

"I know…" Apollo's voice choked. "I just wish he could have been able to talk to me…" Apollo's hand was nervously flinching on the table, Boomer reached out and put his own hand on top of Apollo's.

"Let's not stop hoping, Apollo." Boomer's voice was soft. "I'm sure that some day he will return…"

"Do you really believe that?" Apollo looked at Boomer.

"I don't know." Boomer answered truthfully. "But it is something that I want to believe in."

* * *

Lomas looked at his hands. He didn't recognize them any more. He didn't feel his face as he touched it with those strange hands. He didn't see himself when he looked at the reflection on the viper's sidewindow. He didn't exist. He had become a new one. And he had no destiny, only a desire to feel.

Everything Lomas had believed in, had vanished into porpouslessness. He had not achieved serenity nor synchronized with intensity. Nothingness was much worse than darkness. Yes, the hatred was still there. The weakness was still there. The fear and the power were still very much there. But Lomas had become someone else.

* * *

The members of the Council of the Twelve fell into awkward silence as the fleet commander entered the chamber.

Adama walked to his seat at the end of the table and sat down. He lifted his eyes and looked at each council member. "I will not oppose the sentence of my daughter in any way."

Sire Kane hesitated and then stood up. "Commander, I do hope you are aware of fact that bridge officer Athena could face imprisonment up to twenty yahrens…"

Adama's face was expressionless. "You can forge ahead with the enforcement of punishment without further ado"

* * *

Starbuck switched the sega-compromizers up to position gamma. It was all coming back to him now. He was beginning to remember how those cylon garbage cans called fighters worked. Surprisingly the system wasn't all that different from the colonial starbuses which Starbuck had chauffered for a while once, as a summer job, back in the academy days. Starbuck checked that the wing equalizers were working. They were. Perfect. Okay, time to press the lauching button.

There was a smile on Starbuck's face. Boy, he could hardly wait to get back to the Galactica. Oh sagan it had been so stupid to run away in the first place, Starbuck understood that now. But the human mind always moved in mysterious ways.

Possibly, without going through the anxiety brought on by the memory distortions, Starbuck might not have understood the deeper meaning of the fact one could never affect something that had already happened, but there was always a possibility to change the future to be the way one wanted it to be. Sure, Starbuck had always known all that stuff, but he had to… like, realize it all to be able to really internalize it. Besides. Things, they don't always have a logical meaning. There aren't always explanations to even the most simple course of events. In fact, there very seldom is. To quate one ancient Aquarian science fiction broadcasting: The truth is out there… But it can never be found because there are just as many truths as there are mind rivers.

"My head is beginning to ache." Starbuck rolled his eyes. "This is not the time or place to get deep, damn it. Now concentrate on operating the fighter…" Starbuck switched on the co-ordinators and the scanner adjusters. The craft was ready to be launched. "Okay, Apollo, here I come…" Starbuck grinned. "You better not shoot me, buddy…"

* * *

Lomas glanced at the scanner. Still 14 point 62 hectares to cover. Quite good. He had already left behind over half of the journey in a much shorter time than he had anticipated. But then again, these vipers were faster than shuttles, no matter how well-equipped the shuttles might be.

Lomas switched off the tracking scrambler. It was a bit too early for that really, but he did it anyway to eliminate any possibility that he might forget. Lomas sure wanted to be visible in the fleet radars when the time came. Yes, he was returning to the Piscean. Such an unexpected turn. Yet, so obvious. So unpreventable.

* * *

To Starbuck's surprise, Baltar had seemingly kept the unspoken promise to hold back all cylon squadrons. Starbuck had easily escaped from the sphere of the base ship 7. There had been no trouble with the controlling either. Although this kind of fighter normally needed two cylons to operate it, Starbuck had no difficulty handling the vehicle on his own. Starbuck grinned. Well, of course he could do it on his own. He was. after all, the hero, and the cylons were just some metal daggits whose screws were always falling off someplace.

"What's this…" Starbuck noticed a red, twinkling apparatus. A kind that he hadn't seen before, not even in the previous cylon fighters he had been in. "Looks intriguing. What if it is the grog cupboard…" Starbuck grinned. "Oh well. Better not fiddle with it. You never know, this thing might blow up or something. Just forget it." Starbuck couldn't resist. He leaned forward and pressed the yellowish e- button. "Idiot!" Starbuck snorted to himself and squeezed his eyes shut to prepair for the possible explosion. Nothing happened. Starbuck slowly opened his eyes. "For sagan's sake, buddy. The next time you feel an urge to do something stupid, just keep your hands on the control stick!"

Starbuck glanced at Cree's body that was placed under a blanket on the seat where the third cylon, the one giving commands, always sat. "What do you say, Cree. Want to play a game of pyramid to kill the time." Starbuck grinned. The unavoidable curses of boring, lonely journeys. You start acting like a felgercarbing fruitcake.

* * *

"Why ?" There was so much sadness and uncomprehension in Apollo's eyes. "Please make me understand."

Athena eyed her brother through the glass door. "Why, why, why… for sagan's sake I'm tired of all the fracking why's. I can't give you reasons, Apollo. I can't even give reasons to myself. I just did it, because doing it felt good." Athena's face was indifferent. "I admit it, I'm not too thrilled about getting caught and spending the best yahrens of my life on the fracking prison barge. But hey, it's not the end of the world."

Athena walked closer to the glass door, still keeping her eyes on Apollo. "I enjoyed killing Salik, I'm not going to lie about it. And to be honest, if I had the chance, I would probably do it again." Athena smiled. "And only because it felt fracking good."

Athena was now standing in front of Apollo, very very close, but still separated by the glass door. "I have changed, Apollo." Athena spoke. "And I will never again be what I was before."

"What changed you?" Apollo asked, sadly.

"Questions, again. Sagan, Apollo. Didn't I just tell you that I have no answers…"

Apollo remained silent.

Athena sighed. "I don't know what changed me. Perhaps it was awareness, perhaps it has always been in me. Or maybe I simply have had too many disappontments."

Athena placed her hand on the glass surface, as if touching her brother. "I'm sorry for hurting you, but I'm not sorry for becoming."

Apollo kept his sad eyes on Athena. "I wan't you to know that I will do everything in my power to get you out of this place, Athena. It breaks my heart to see you on the prison barge…"

Athena's eyes narrowed, just a little. "Which is it that breaks your heart the most, Apollo? Me being here, or me being here and you having to be ashamed of and disappointed in me? Which is it. Brother? Be honest."

Apollo stared at Athena. "I don't know you any more…"

"Oh, is that so." Athena smiled. "Well, quite frankly my dear, I don't give a frack…"

* * *

"You had so much…" Sheba held Cassiopeia's limp hand. "Why couldn't you see it." Sheba bent his head down and rested it against Cassiopeia chest for a centon.

Cassiopeia didn't open her eyes.

"I loved you Cassie." Sheba kept her head on Cassie's chest. "Not always the way you wanted me to, but I still loved you." Sheba closed her eyes. "I loved you for what you were."

Sheba lifted his eyes as doctor Wilker approached her. "Has there been any change in her condition?" Sheba already knew the answer and she didn't really want to hear it.

Wilker's face was compassionate. "I'm sorry Sheba, but there had been no change. She is still in a coma." Doctor Wilker paused for a centon. "I'm going to be honest with you…"

"Whatever it is doctor, please tell me." Sheba kept her eyes on Wilker.

"The chances that she will ever regain consciousness are very small. The longer she remains comatose, the narrower the possibilities of recovery get." Doctor Wilker hesitated. "And, as I said I'm going to be honest with you Sheba. Even if Cassiopeia did regain consciousness, there is not much of a chance that she could ever be fully recovered. The possibility of permanent brain damage is now 99,2 per cent…"

* * *

"This is lieutenant Starbuck requesting permission and co-ordinates for landing."

"Permission granted." The voice of a pisceanian bridge officer flooded through the computer.

"The co-ordinates are 83 point 7 inclination beta, 4.11 alpha angle, 62 degrees omega. Landing sector 2 is currently unavailable, you need to direct the craft onto sector 3, bay 5."

"Co-ordinates received and proceeding to land."

Lomas turned off the communicator and smiled in the darkness of the viper . Too easy.

His cover was perfect. What a stroke of luck that he had noticed the viper on the fourth deck. Lomas had immediately perceived that with that viper he would have the perfect alias to enter the sphere of the fleet's scanners without any trouble at all, and sneak onto the Piscean to find Astral.

Everything was intense. So beautiful. Lomas had been reborn from the ashes of his disillusion. Reborn, and regenerated. Into awareness. Into oblivion.

Lomas turned to smile at Cree. Angel face. You never died.

* * *

"Okay, buddy." Starbuck was still chatting with Cree's body. "We are starting approach the Galactica's scanner range. It's time to start holding our breaths."

Starbuck glanced at the computer readings. It was time to switch the wing equalizers off autocontrol. Starbuck needed to use the equalizers manually in order to succeed in swaying the fighter from one side to another as approaching the battlestar. Starbuck remembered how he and Apollo had once been recogniced by that stunt, so there was a good possibility that it might work again. Hopefully Boomer will be on the bridge. Or Apollo…

Beautiful Apollo… Starbuck heart picked up beat. He couldn't wait to see the look in Apollo's eyes… The lights of the Sagittarian and a few other fleet stragglers were already twinkling ahead. Dimly, yes, but recognizable. Starbuck could even see vague figures of a couple of tiny shuttles.

That reflective thing in the far distance… Starbuck narrowed his eyes and smiled. It couldn't be anything else than the Agroship 9. Enthusiastically Starbuck tried to spot the Galactica.

Hey, there was the Rising Star, hovering in space like a swan. Beautiful, inviting and full of promises of unspeakable riches.. Yep, it was definitely the Rising Star.

Starbuck grinned. Home, sweet home.

* * *

Chapter 21

"You are approaching the landing bay in too steep an angle. Correct the position of the viper and bring the nose up approximately 2 point 74 degrees."

Lomas followed the instructions of the pisceanian landing controller.

"Fifteen microns to touchdown."

The lights of the landing bay were becoming brighter with every micron and how Lomas loved the sight of those approaching lights.

"Ten microns to touchdown."

Lomas smiled as he glanced at Cree. "You are looking beautiful."

Cree blushed and Lomas grinned.

"No, really. I mean it. These lights make you look almost unreal. It doesn't matter that you once were stupid enough to cut your face. The traces have disappeared. You have become eternal and undestructable, just like me." Lomas extended his hand and touched Cree's face. "Soon we will all be together."

"Yes." Cree smiled. "All of us.

"Five microns to touchdown."

* * *

"What's going on?" Boomer entered the bridge, running. The sound of the claxon was screeding all over the Galactica and the personnel on the bridge were rushing to take the emergency positions.

Tigh turned to look at Boomer. "Condition red, liutenant. We are being approached by an enemy craft. A cylon fighter."

Boomer looked out of the large window. "I don't see any…" He noticed the image on the scanner. "But it's still almost a hectar away…"

"We can't risk the safety of the fleet." Adama's voice was calm. "We can't take a chance that this might be another suicide dive."

Boomer could never forget the huge fire that had been caused by a cylon craft making a suicide crash onto the Galactica landing bay. That was one of the times they had all been in serious felgercarb. Boomer still remembered too well the fear and the powerlessness he had felt when being trapped inside a recreation chamber with a few others, including Athena and Boxey. Sagan, it sure had been a close call. If it hadn't been for Muffit, they wouldn't have survived. Thank sagan for the little daggit. But one thing Boomer still couldn't internalize. How in the frack could Muffit, a robot for lords' sakes, smell the mushies and be evoked by them enough to want to follow the scent…

Apollo kept his eyes on the object on the scanner. "I still think we should wait until we can contact the craft."

"We would take an unnecessary risk…"

"Commander." Boomer spoke. "I think I know what Apollo is thinking…" Boomer turned to look at the captain. "…But it's very unprobable that Starbuck could be in that fighter."

Apollo didn't look at Boomer. "All I'm asking is that we wait until we will be able to receive a possible identification…"

"All right. We will delay the attack for another five centons. But if we do not receive any ID-code in that time, we will either launch vipers to check it out, or use the laser generators on the Galactica to destroy it." Adama's voice was determined. "We cannot take another risk…"

* * *

"Okay buddy. We are in the fleet's radar sphere now." Starbuck didn't really care whether he was talking to Cree's lifeless body or to himself. He just wanted to talk aloud and hear his own voice. It made him feel less anxious. "We are now visible in the scanners. In a couple of centons I'm going to start swaying this piece of metal. I hope you don't get seasick too easily…" Starbuck grinned at Cree's body. "Or maybe I should use the term spacesick."

Starbuck turned to look at the approaching lights of the 220 ships of the fleet. "Beautiful sight." Starbuck just had to comment. "I'll never get bored seeing that view. It sure is breathtaking." Starbuck raised one eyebrow. "Let's just hope this won't be the last time we see it."

Starbuck eyed the co-ordinates on the computer. It was time to proceed. "Okay Cree, you better tighten your seat belt. It's going to feel like a rollercoaster for a while…" Starbuck took a hold of the manual wing-control stick. His hands were sweating. "And for sagan's sake Cree. Keep hoping for the best…"

* * *

Lomas took off the helmet and wiped the matted hair away from his forehead. He turned to glance at the empty seat behind him. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to come with me, Cree." Lomas smiled at the boy. "I don't want you to take any risks now that you have finally… become."

Cree's eyes were on Lomas. "Don't forget I'm eternal. Nothing can harm me. I exist in you."

Lomas reached out and caressed Cree's shaggy hair. "Angel face, I will return as soon as I find Astral."

Cree smiled. "I know."

Lomas climbed out of the viper. The bay technicians didn't pay any attention to him. Casually Lomas strolled across the bay towards the corridors, absorbing the homely goings-on around the bay area. The noise from one of the cranes a couple of metrons away from Lomas paused and the technicians operating it started shouting instructions to each other. A forklift truck drove past Lomas and a shuttle was being trailed to a launching position. A fluorescent lamp further away was flickering.

Lomas knew very well that he should have gone through decom, but he was too impatient. Stupid? Oh yes, that too, but Lomas just couldn't waste any more microns. He wanted so much to find the angel.

One should never skip the few obligatory centons in decontamination after a viper flight. Yes, vipers were faster and much better equipped than other small vehicles, but they lacked in apha dust sterility. Shuttles were more tightly sealed and better compressed to block out the alpha, and even ferosin dust. Shuttles were better condensed because they were operated more frequently and were in constant use of civilians. And decontamination of every passenger after every minimal shuttle flight would definitely cause problems.

This time Lomas knew where to search for the angel. The man was either somewhere on the bay areas, where he had said he worked, or he would be somewhere on the naval deck or the silicon section. Unless… Lomas hoped to sagan it wasn't time for one of those idiotic centars of prayer…

Of course, it wasn't going to be all that easy to find the man. But this time things were a little different. First of all, this time there was no reason for desperation. Lomas knew now that the angel was real and not only something that he wanted to see. Something that his mind had created. And secondly, Lomas now had more time due to not needing to follow the inner compulsion for fulfilling the destined. Besides, this time he had all the strength in the universe. He had intensified.

And thirdly, his charade was perfect. Not only had Lomas risen from the ashes of his former, destroyed self to be reborn into a new level of existence, but in the blind eyes of all the others, the meaningless ones, he actually was someone else. Lomas grinned. He was lieutenant Starbuck.

* * *

"There is still no idenfication coming from the craft." Rigel turned to look at the others standing beside her. "The fighter does not react to our requests."

Adama's face was thoughtful. Boomer's eyes were on the large window of the bridge.

"Hey, look!" Boomer poked Apollo on the rib. "I can see the thing..."

The men turned to look out of the window and saw the fighter approaching, a cylon craft.

"The object will reach us in twelve centons…" Rigel observed the computer screen.

"We have to proceed now." Adama started. "Prepair to launch vipers…"

"Guys…" Apollo could hardly speak. He pointed at the fighter. "It's swaying…"

You're right." Boomer raised one eyebrow. "That's funny…"

Apollo's smile was brighter than the eternal fire on the Caprica City Square.

"It's Starbuck…" Apollo turned to look at the others. "It's him! He's coming back!!"

The pulsation from the radar drowned under a flood of words of relief and excitement.

Rigel covered her other ear as she tried to hear the person on the com unit. She eyed the data appearing on the computer screen in front of her. After a couple of centons she put down the unit and turned to look at the others. Her face was serious. "It can't be Starbuck in that cylon fighter…"

Apollo looked at Rigel with disbelief. "What are you saying, girl…"

"According to the fleet's flight control data…" Rigel paused to take a look at the computer screen again. "…Lieutenant Starbuck's viper landed on the Piscean fifteen centons ago."

* * *

Starbuck couldn't believe this. The communicator of the cylon fighter refused to operate on alpha or beta sequence and connection with the Galactica couldn't be established. "Great!" Starbuck frowned. "Why do these things always have to happen to me!" Starbuck felt like banging his forehead against the windshield of the viper. Actually, he felt like banging someone else's forehead against it. A cylon forehead.

"Okay, if I won't be able to send or receive any data in the next ten centons, I'm going in blind, without co-ordinates." Starbuck sighed, capitulatingly. "Let's just hope the bay technicians know how to run..."

* * *

Boomer climbed into the viper and put on his helmet. He heard Apollo's voice through the communicator.

"Blue squadron launching in seven microns." Apollo was saying. "Hey, Boomer, you take Starbuck's position as my wing man. And Jolly, you keep guard on the tail, okay?"

"Sure. Hey Boomer." Jolly's voice. "Are we the only squadron attacking?"

"Yes." Boomer answered. "The silver spar squadron will be on standby, but don't you all think we can take care of one cylon ship with our eyes closed…"

Apollo's slightly amused voice. "You're right Boomer. But guys, keep in mind that we do not know if the vehicle contains cylons or other hostile beings. We must try our best to establish connection with the object."

"Apollo, it's not Starbuck." Giles' voice. "Didn't you just see the data of Starbuck's landing on the Piscean…"

"That's what bothers me." Apollo said thoughtfully. "What would Starbuck do on the Piscean for sagan's sake."

"You have a point." Boomer consented. "But it was Starbuck's viper that landed…"

"Just keep trying for the connection, okay?" Apollo switched up the take-off preparators.

"You guys ready?"

"Uh huh." Boomer put his finger on the turbo button. "As ready as we'll ever be."

"Blue squadron prepairing to launch." Apollo spoke to the communicator.

"All clear." Rigel's voice. "Launch when ready."

* * *

The cantina on the west section of hydra deck was packed. Lomas was standing in the doorway, eyeing around the place to find an empty table or at least an empty seat.

Lomas had been looking for Astral everywhere on the ship, but the angel sure knew how to be difficult to find. Lomas was starting to feel slightly uncomfortable but he kept fighting against the approaching anxiety. He repeated to himself over and over again that the angel would be found. Of course the man would be found. Lomas would never leave the Piscean without him. Lomas would rather die. And without Astral, he was dead.

"I'm sorry sir. We have no seats available at the moment." A red-haired waitress hurried towards Lomas. "You have to wait, or make a reservation."

"I'll wait." Lomas replied absent-mindedly. He didn't look at the waitress. "Why is it so crowded? What's the special occasion?"

The waitress smiled in a way that annoyed the frack out of Lomas. "You don't know what day today is… Oh lords. You are obviously not pisceanian."

"Good guess." Lomas smiled, sarcastically. "So, what's the occasion?"

"It's the eleventh opening of elements." The waitress said proudly. "The third one for me."

"I regret that I asked." Lomas snorted.

The waitress pretended not to notice the arrogance. "May I suggest that you make a reservation. It might take a while…"

"All right." Lomas consented. "I'll make a reservation. You can put my name on the list."

The waitress smiled. "Good choice. And what is your name sir?"

"Starbuck." Lomas grinned. "Lieutenant Starbuck."

The waitress wrote the name down. "Nice to meet you lieutenant Starbuck. I've heard a lot about you…"

"Don't believe even the half of it." Lomas turned to go. "I'm much worse than my reputation."

"You have a seat reserved in exactly two centars, sir." The waitress smiled pleasantly. "We will imform you via com-unit-speakers. But I must warn you that the audibility of the unit is restricted only in the silicon section and the alpha section, so you need to remain in that area..."

"I'll keep that in mind." Lomas said politely. "By the way, have you seen a blond, long-haired, tall man entering the cantina? Around thirty yahrens old and very beautiful…"

"You must be talking about Astral." The waitress grinned.

"How do you know…" Lomas was stunned.

"Oh, he's a regular. He comes here at least four times a secton." The waitress' eyes twinkled. "Sure is a good looking guy. I've had my eye on him for a while."

Lomas felt a wave of uncontrollable rage. He fought hard not to let it show.

"Why are you looking for him?" The waitress asked, keeping her curious eyes on Lomas. "You guys friends or…?"

"Do you know where I can find Astral now?" Lomas kept his voice was calm, but he felt the rivers awaking. "I need to talk to him."

"Sure." The waitress grinned. "He's in the cantina at this centon, sitting at one of my tables…"

Lomas hated the way the waitress almost winked. How contemptible. So vulgar. But then of course, she only was one of the meaningless ones. How could she know anything about the connection of souls. Lomas stared at the waitress. "Would you get him for me, please. It's really important…"

The waitress hesitated. "Umm… I don't know if I can interrupt him. He's not alone…"

"Is that so?" A sudden surge of overpowering jealousy flushed over Lomas. "Who is he with?…"

The waitress leant forward to whisper into Lomas' ear like a conspirator. "I don't really know who the men are, but I've heard that the assembly fellowship is thinking of making Astral the next assistant to the sermon master."

"Really…" Lomas didn't know whether to laugh or scream. These people really were insane!

The waitress grinned. "Remember, you didn't hear this from me, but I think the only reason for Astral to be considered for the position of the next assistant is because the sermon master has an eye on him…You know, a crush…"

"Well, what do you know." Lomas couldn't believe this felgercarb. The smiled as he leaned closer to whisper into the ear of the waitress. "But let me tell you a little secret. I don't quite believe that Astral wants to…"

"Can we get some service here!!" An annoyed murmur came from somewhere behind.

Lomas turned and noticed that a line of people had gathered behind him while he had had this such a mind-expanding conversation with the waitress.

"I'm sorry sir. I'll be with you in just a centon." The waitress replyed apologetically.

She turned towards Lomas. "Your reservation is in two centars sir. I'm sorry, we have to keep this line moving."

Lomas took a hold of the waitress by her shoulder. A hurting hold. "Let me go in. I need to speak to Astral."

"I'm sorry. You can't go… Hey wait a centon!! SIR!!" The waitress ran after Lomas who had already pushed her aside and was now loping down the mid aisle of the cantina.

"Hey, watch it! An oncoming waiter almost bumped into Lomas. "For lords' sakes…"

Lomas didn't even bother to apologize. He had already wasted so much energy for nothingness. Now that the angel was somewhere within reach, Lomas sure wasn't going to be prevented from reaching out. Nothing could hold him back…

Lomas saw the angel. Everything else in the universe disappeared at that very micron. They were alone together. They had always been.

Astral almost choked on the mushies as he spotted Lomas loping towards his table.

"What?" An older man dressed in a black tunic and assembly organizer's loose-fitting chinos lifted his eyes and looked at Astral.

"Errr, nothing." Astral coughed.

Lomas was smiling so beautifully, Astral could hardly bare to look at him. And the way he walked. Oh sagan, it was so much more capturing than the dance of the wind.

Lomas reached the table. He was looking straight into Astral's eyes, sinking deep inside the beauty of the angel's existence. Astral was so much more intense that Lomas had even been cabable of comprehending. Astral was the reason why the world was created.

"Hello, Lomas." Astral smiled. "I'm glad to see you have returned."

"Yes." Lomas couldn't turn his eyes away. "I returned for you."

Astral blushed embarrassed. Ummm, Lomas. Meet acolyte Eternio. He has just offered me a very respectable position on this ship…"

The older man extended his hand. "Nice to meet you, young man. One of Astral's friends I presume…?"

Lomas totally ignored Eternio's friendlyness. "Astral, We need to…"

"And this is acolyte Seneka…"

"Astral, why do we have to waste time on all this nothingness, when there is so much beauty awaiting…"

Now Astral was really embarrassed. He eyed the two older man apologetically. "And this is Corporal Lo…"

"Lieutenant Starbuck." Lomas snorted and extended his hand. "Pleasure to meet such meaningless beings. Now please Astral, my angel. Please can we go…"

"What unspeakable impudence!" Acolyte Seneka stared at Lomas, outraged. "Don't you have any manners, lad…" Seneka paused.

Where in the names of heavens had he seen that person before… Seneka's mind couldn't place that man anywhere on the Piscean but still, there was something disturbingly familiar in that pale face…

* * *

"Frack!" Starbuck cursed out loud. He still hadn't been able to establish any connection with the battlestar and it was now only five centons due to landing. Things didn't look good. "Oh well, at least they haven't shot at me yet." Starbuck tried to see the lighter side of the situation. And right then he saw the vipers of the blue squadron approaching…

~~~~

Apollo kept his eyes on the cylon fighter. It was smaller than the usual ones and that seemed a little odd. Why would such a tiny craft be sent to attack the fleet. The vehicle seemed too small to even be like the ones the cylons sometimes used for reconaissances. "Damn!"

"What?" Boomer heard Apollo's voice. "What is it?"

"Well of course it's a small one." Apollo grimaced. "Why destroy a better ship…"

"What are you babbling about, Apollo."

"They are going to attemp to make a suicide crash. We have no time to waste."

"None of us have been able to establish any kind of connection with the craft." Giles' cut in. "So, captain. What are we going to do?"

Apollo looked at the fighter for a micron. "Let's shoot the daggit."

~~~~

Starbuck started swaying the fighter like mad. "Come on, Apollo. It's me damn it. Don't you recognize the forsaken signal!"

The vipers were approaching in a formation.

Starbuck didn't like that sight at all, but hey, how many times do you get to see the blue squadron in formation from the cylon point of view…

A laser beam was shot. It missed Starbuck by quarter of a metron.

"FRACK!" Starbuck shouted. "What's the matter with you guys!!!" Another shot. "I have a bad feeling about this." Starbuck frowned.

It would be sheer insanity to try to approach the Galactica now. He would never make it. The only choice was to flee. Starbuck glanced at the solium controllers and what he saw made his hair raise towards the ceiling of the fighter. There was only 0,005 megons of fuel left. Frack. That wouldn't even carry him to the nearest planet. This was bad. This was really bad. He had to try anyway or he would get blown up.

"Come on, you piece of cylon felgercarb!" Starbuck pulled back the control switch as hard as he could. The vehicle didn't seem to react at all. "Turn, you piece of frack!"

Nothing happened and Starbuck knew very well why. He had read his physics at the academy. With a grimace, yes. But read it anyway. So he knew that the forsaken fighter had moved with too high speed to be able to turn in such a small angle. Although there was no air in space, there was resistance which composed of chromomyte particles. Those, in higher quantities, compounded alpha dust.

~~~~

"It sure moves in a funny way!" Boomer commented. "Look at the way it rocks. It either has to be a some sort of a signal, or the being inside the craft is either cross eyed or been sniffing plant vapors…"

"I admit, there is something funny about that thing." Apollo said thoughtfully.

"Maybe it is intended to be a diversion." Giles' voice. "You never know what goes on inside the metallic heads of the cylons. They might surprise the frack out of you when you least expect it."

"Yeah…" Boomer's absent-minded voice. "If that thing inside the ship is a cylon…"

~~~~

Starbuck desperately tried to come up with something that would save his life. In his mind, with the speed of light, Starbuck recapitulated the facts.

Okay. The communicator didn't operate. The craft wouldn't turn quickly enough to escape the laser beams. The figter was almost out of solium, and even if there had been enough of it, Starbuck couldn't spot a suitable planet on the radar to land on. Even Probability was now much too far… God damn!

Give a laser signal, Starbuck's head came up with an idea. Shoot, but don't shoot at the vipers.

Starbuck eyed the laser launchers. He had never before operated any kind of cylonic weapon that was within a cylon craft. The mechanism looked like felgercarb. Starbuck decided to press the button that read "generating". Three lights came on. Okay. Starbuck took another lucky guess and pressed the one in the middle. A hiss. Then nothing. Suddenly a laser beam flashed from the front generators of the fighter. Jeeeez, Starbuck saw himself just firing towards Apollo's viper.

In mere fraction of microns, Apollo managed to curve up and avoid the hit.

Starbuck swallowed air at least five times in a row. His hand was shaking as he wiped perspire off his forehead with the back of his hand. "You IDIOT!! Why didn't you just shoot yourself while you were at it!"

Starbuck closed his eyes for a micron and said a million prayers for Apollo not having been hit. But it had been too close. Much too close.Starbuck knew he would never forget this micron of his worst nightmares. He took a deep, deep sigh. "I'm going to need a shrink after this…"

~~~~

"Apollo!! Are you okay??" Boomer shouted to the communicator. "Apollo???"

"I'm fine Boomer." Apollo answered. "Will you stop shouting in my ear…"

Jolly's voice. "That didn't look good. The shot missed you only by millimetrons."

"Thanks for reminding me!" Apollo rolled his eyes.

"Well, at least now we know that it's an enemy ship and we can destroy it with a clear conscience." Giles grinned.

"You are right." Apollo spoke, keeping his eyes on the cylon craft. "Fire when ready."

* * *

"Err, Lomas…Why don't we go…" Astral stood up quickly, embarrassed that Lomas might decide to say something even more damaging. Astral looked down to smile at the two older men, apologetically. "I'm so sorry, but something came up…"

Acolyte Seneka was eyeing Lomas very disapprovingly. "Yes, something certainly did."

"I want you to know that I'm extremely honoured that you chose to ask me to be the assistant of the sermon master…" Astral smiled very warmly. "But regretfully I must decline."

"This is not an opportunity that comes knocking on your quarters every day, Astral." Acolyte Eternio corrected the position of his eyeglasses. "I don't believe you have given this enough thought…"

Lomas' waterpond eyes turned to look at the two acolytes.

Astral smiled nervously. "I think we really need to go now…"

"Don't waste your time, gentlemen." Lomas smiled pleasantly. "My angel isn't in the least interested in your felgercarb. You can go and tell your pathetic sermon master that he can frack off and find another object for his forbidden desires." Lomas grinned. "Oh dear. Did I just say the word frack? Oh, I'm soooo sorry. I forgot one can't use such language on this ship."

"Lieutenant Starbuck!" Acolyte Eterno rose to his feet. "Your military career is going to be over the micron I inform the fleet commander of your adverse behaviour."

"By all means." Lomas grinned. "Don't let me hold you back."

Astral tried to be invisible. "Lomas, can we leave now…"

"Lomas?" Acolyte Seneka raised his eyes and looked at the man more carefully. "Corporal Lomas?"

"Poor old man." Lomas grinned. "My great grandmother used to suffer from alzheimer's too, so I know what you must be going through." Lomas eyed the acolyte sarcastically. "Well I guess it's useless to repeat that my name is Starbuck. Lieutenant Starbuck. You will forget the name in a centon anyway." Acolyte Seneka ignored what the young military man was saying. He smoothly drew out a laser gun from under his cape of penance and pointed it at Lomas. "You son of a daggit murdered a young boy on the Galactica." Seneka spoke, softly, poisonously. "How unlucky for you that the boy happened to be my cousin's roommate's foster child…"

Astral turned his shocked eyes towards Lomas. "you said you had never…"

Lomas laughed. "Is this a joke?"

"I wish it was." Seneka put pressure on the trigger.

Lomas eyed the obviously insane acolyte. "Hey, hold on here. I haven't killed any innocent being in my entire life. You are mistaken…"

"No, I'm not. Your face is recorded on the surveillance systems of the Galactica control center. Your face is tattooed in my soul."

"How achingly poetic." Lomas sneered. "If you are so certain that I have killed… whoever the person was. Your roommate's grandmother's cat's gourmet cook's masseur…"

"Very funny…" Seneka snorted.

"…Then why don't you just shoot me." Lomas smiled. "You cannot destroy me."

"For sagan's sake, Lomas…" Astral gasped. "Seneka, don't do anything stupid…"

"Would someone tell me what is going on here…"

Acolyte Seneka turned.

A chunky officer wearing the insignia of the Galactica was walking towards Astral and the others. "I don't consider it to be very polite to intrude me in the middle of a meal…

Lomas paled. He knew that man.

"Hey preacherman, for sagan's sake, put down that gun." The chunky officer shook his head. "What do you think this is, the night of the yahrenly moonage fireworks…"

The officer paused.

"Corporal…?"

Lomas looked the other way to try to keep his face hidden. The galactican officer took a hold of his shoulder.

"Lomas? Hey, I thought it was you. What are you doing on the…"

"Corporal Lomas. I'm placing you under imprisonbargement for the murder of the computer co-ordinator Karlo…"

Lomas knew what he would see even before he raised his eyes.

Astral turned and saw another man standing behind the table, pointing a laser gun at Lomas.

The chunky officer looked at the guy who had been sitting at the table with him just centons ago, enjoying his meal and telling jokes about the daggit he used to own before the colonies were destroyed.

"Hey Nano, what's going on here? What are you doing with that gun…"

"I'm fulfilling my duties as an officer of the Galactica." The whiny-voiced man, Nano smiled.

He turned his eyes on Lomas.

"I knew you would return. Isn't it a saying that the criminal always returnes to the crime scene…" Nano grinned. "But in this case, the criminal returned to the neighbourhood of the crime scene…"

Nano glanced at the chunky officer as he was putting handcuffs on Lomas.

"You better inform the Galactica that we will be bringing in a prisoner."

The chunky man was puzzled. "Why the Galactica? Shouldn't we be taking this dude to the prison barge…"

Nano patted the chunky officer's shoulder. "Oh Bert. Have you forgotten that the judicial processing is always held on the Galactica."

"Oh yeah… sorry."

Lomas had no idea what the others were talking about.

He stared at the men, frightened, confused. Lomas could only just remember where he was. Everything looked somehow disturbingly parallel. Like he was outside his own existence, observing himself, but trapped in a place where everything had lost all sense. Like in a dark dream.

"Astral…" Lomas whispered. "Help me. Please."

* * *

Giles' finger put pressure on the "fire" button of the control stick. He had the fighter locked on his scanner. "I've got you locked… "Giled mumbled, concentrating. "Now, hold still you daggit…"

"What did you say?" Apollo had heard Rigel's voice through the com unit very clearly, but he hadn't internalized it.

"Oh, nothing. Just talking to the enemy…" Giles grinned.

"No, not you Giles." Apollo cut in impatiently.

"The man on the Piscean have been identified." Rigel's voice repeated. "He's not liutenant Starbuck."

"Hold the fire!!" Apollo shouted into the communicator. "Don't fire!!"

"What's going on?" Boomer turned his head and eyed Apollo's viper beside him.

"Just… Don't fire!!… NOOO!.." Apollo dropped the communicator and stared horrified as Giles' viper sent a laser beam towards the cylon fighter.

The laser hit the wing of the fighter.

It lost balance and got caught in an uncontrallable tailspin.

~~~~

Starbuck saw the laser beam coming. It shot towards him much too quickly to leave any time for extra reaction, such as thinking and swearing out loud. Like in a trance, Starbuck inserted more speed into the turbo controllers and tried to avoid the hit by sliding past the target point. The damn craft was too slow. The laser beam hit the wing and the vehicle jerked violently. Starbuck lost consciousness.

~~~~

"GILES!!! I TOLD YOU TO HOLD ALL FIRE!!!" Apollo screamed.

"Yes, you did." Giles admitted. "But a micron too late. I had already fired." Giles paused. "What's the matter anyway? It's just a cylon fighter…"

"Yeah! A cylon fighter with someone who might very well be Starbuck inside it!!!!"

"But…wasn't Starbuck supposed to be on the Piscean…"

"They identified the bloke. It's not Starbuck!"

Apollo didn't want to waste time on his felgercarb. He had to act. There had to be something he could do. He couldn't just helplessly lay back and watch his own life tailspinning to death in front of his eyes.

~~~~

The pressure was unbearable. Starbuck came to and grimaced as he tried to lift his head. He couldn't move. "What the…"

"Oh frack!" In microns Starbuck realized that he had been hit and was now trapped in a very felgercarbish situation. Turn off the engines, Starbuck mind pounded, making his head ache more. Starbuck clenched his teeth together and he tried to reached to the turbo switches. Damn it, they were too far away. Starbuck cursed out loud, extended his right leg and kicked the swiches to position gamma. The roar of the engines silenced. Starbuck could feel the pressure created by the tailspin decreasing. He climbed to a sitting position on the seat and took a strong hold of the control stick. Now all he had to do was to bring the fighter to an 5,5 angle. The chromomyte particles would provide enough resistance to put the fighter into a slide for what could last up to one and a half hectares. With that sliding technique Starbuck could easily land on the Galactica. And that was exactly what he was going to do.

Sagan help the person who would try to stop him.

~~~~

Apollo felt all the blood disappearing from his head. The world around him was rapidly turning white and swiftly vanishing further and further away. Apollo had to bend down his head and rest it against his knuckles for centons or he would have undoubtedly fainted right there and then. The relief that Apollo felt when he saw the fighter suddenly starting to straighten couldn't be described with words. It was so much more than immense.

"What a stunt!" Jolly's sigh of admiration echoed from the communicator. "The guy in that fighter's cockpit sure is cool-headed."

"Or a hot-headed one. " Boomer grinned. "No question about it. It's Starbuck alright!"

* * *

Chapter 22

Starbuck and Apollo were lying on the bed. Starbuck's head was resting on Apollo's chest and softly Apollo was caressing Starbuck's hair.

Both the men had been quiet for many many centons. There was no light in the quarters, except the light from the distant stars.

Apollo moved his head a little so he could look down at Starbuck. "You almost shot me, you daggit." Apollo's voice was teasing but tender. "First you dump me and then you try to shoot me. Is this how you're going to treat me when we're sealed…"

Starbuck grinned and replied to one of Apollo's nipples. "Hey, you forgot about me wasting all your money on gambling, taking idiotic risks on patrols, eating so many tulipian buds that I will look like a boray at the age of thirty five…"

Apollo laughed. "Yeah, not to mention the fact that I will gain such a lovable and even-tempered brother-in-law."

Starbuck lifted his head and turned to look at Apollo in the eyes. "Still wanna get sealed to me?..."

"Starbuck…" Apollo kept caressing Starbuck's hair. "What happened? Why did you run away?"

"I have already told you everything a thousand times." Starbuck grimaced. "Please can we just forget about this subject for the rest of our lives."

"But there are still so many things that don't seem rational…"

"Okay, this is the short short version." Starbuck grinned. "I was an idiot. There. Satisfied?"

"You never change Starbuck." Apollo just had to smile. "You are such a stubborn daggit…"

"And that's what you most love about me, isn't it." Starbuck winked.

Apollo smiled. He was silent for a centon. "Starbuck…" He started.

"Now what?" Starbuck was talking to the nipple again.

"I don't want to waste any more time. I want to get sealed to you now."

Starbuck grimaced. "Oh no. Please don't tell me you're pregnant…"

Apollo slapped Starbuck, but softly. "I'm serious. I wan't to get sealed as soon as possible. We could just jump on a shuttle and get sealed tonight on the Rising Star…"

"Uh uh uh uh uh uh!" Starbuck lifted his head again. "Out of the question, buddy! I don't want to do any sneaking. No more sneaking!! I want a proper sealing. You know… with all the trimmings." Starbuck sat up and looked at Apollo in the face. "I want your father to be the one to perform the sealing. I want the white dress, the buquet and everything. I want to see Tigh dressed in a pink bridal gown. I want Boomer to jump out of the sealing cake…"

Apollo laughed. Starbuck kept his grinning eyes on the man.

"And I want you to have the happiest day of your life."

Apollo smiled. "You just want to get your hands on the expensive sealing presents, don't you…"

Starbuck laughed. "You read my mind."

* * *

Boomer didn't see the images on the inter fleet broadcasting receiver. His mind was on Cree. Beautiful, beautiful Cree. Boomer couldn't believe the boy was gone. Forever. Why for frack's sake do those, who deserve the most to live, die so soon. Much too soon. There were no tears on Boomer's cheeks. Only abysmal pain in the eyes, endless sorrow in the heart.

Boomer had been present when doctor Wilker had arranged Cree's body to be removed from the fighter. Starbuck had been there too. Standing beside Boomer, his hand on the man's shoulder, silently comforting. Comfort didn't exist. Despaired, Boomer had turned away when the med technicians had lifted the lifeless body out of the craft. But he hadn't turned fast enough. Boomer had caught a glimpse of Cree's face. And that face was beside him right now. It would never let go. Boomer stood up and walked to the receiver to turn off the IFB. Darkness and silence cascaded into the room.

Why did the live ones have to die when there were so many dead people alive. Boomer was one of the dead ones. Living without reason. Existing without aim. Extinguished. Disillusioned by life, Boomer had given in and stopped fighting back when the fire was fading. He had not lived for so long he had forgotten what it felt like. He had even lost belief in being able to become alive again.

Boomer realized he hadn't been truly happy for at least the last ten yahrens. Hope was only a scratch in the surface. A lie. Inside, there was only disappointment. Anger. Yes, sadness too. Most of all, just emptiness.

Why did Cree, who was only beginning to blossom, have to fade away, when Boomer was the one who had already faded. Such terrible shame to waste life away like this.

* * *

"I feel guilty…" Starbuck didn't really say the words out loud but Apollo heard them anyway. He lifted his head and looked down at Starbuck, who was back to resting his head on Apollo's chest.

"Guilty?" Apollo raised his left eyebrow.

"…For being happy." Starbuck turned his head and met Apollo's eyes. "I'm ashamed to feel like this when there is so much unfairness…"

Apollo knew what Starbuck was talking about. He caressed Starbuck's hair and he rested his head back on the pillow, eyeing the ceiling.

"Athena…" he whispered.

"…And Cassiopeia." Starbuck kept his on Apollo.

"Cree…" Apollo closed his eyes. "Yes. So much unfairness." Apollo sighed. "But everything comes in waves. Why should we feel guilty for being on top of the wave, when so many times we have been the ones about to drown." Apollo opened his eyes and sat up.

"Besides…"

"What?"

Apollo looked at Starbuck. "Athena wanted to proceed the way that ended up on the prison barge. Cassiopeia chose to kill herself. And Cree wasn't told to jump in front of a laser beam to save Lomas. They all did that because of their own free will…"

"Apollo. What they did is not the real tragedy."Starbuck said quietly. "The true unfairness lies in the process… "

"Uh oh!" Apollo murmured. "Are you about to get existentialistic with me…" Starbuck smiled a little.

"Athena, Cassiopeia and Cree…" Starbuck spoke. "They were all victims of the harshness and unfairness of life."

Apollo opened his mouth to...

"I know what you are about to say." Starbuck said before Apollo had time to form any words. "Yes, we all are victims of life. In one way or the other. It's just that perhaps some of us are weaker. More affected."

Apollo didn't say anything. He was digesting Starbuck's words.

"Athena was disillusioned by others. Cassiopeia was disillusioned by herself. And Cree's bad fortune was the fact that he merely loved." Starbuck's voice was forlorn.

"Or perhaps life really is cruel and treats some people so much more unfairly than others."

Starbuck suddenly grew very fed up with the subject. "Hey, don't expect me to give you answers. I'm not the sagan here. I'm not responsible for the way the existence of everything works. Damn it, why did I ever start this conversation anyway…" Starbuck sat up and grinned. "My feelings of guilt just suddenly disappeared. What do you say we go to the officers' club and order a ambrata with onions. I'm getting kinda hungry here…"

Apollo smiled. "I thought you'd never ask."

***

"It would be advisable to proceed with the judicial hearing as expeditiously as possible." Chief opposer Solon was in Adama's quarters. "The defendant cannot stay on the Galactica more than twenty four centars. I hear there already are minor difficulties concerning the situation…"

"I'm aware of the difficulties." Adama nodded. "But rest assured that the hearing will take place Tomorrow morning. We already have the jury completely assembled and the authorized passes delivered to the participants." Adama arose from the chair. "I have examined the concrete evidence and gotten acquainted with the accusation…" Adama's eyes were on the chief opposer. "There is no doubt that the defendant is guilty of committing the crimes." Adama looked away for a centon. "I'm just not sure if he should be condemned…"

Solon eyed the commander. "Sire, what do you mean…?"

Adama turned towards Solon again. "The defendant is just as much innocent as he is guilty."

"I don't understand." Solon's face was puzzled.

Adama smiled, melancholically. "You will."

* * *

"Don't switch off the light, please." Lomas didn't turn to look at the guard.

The officer hesitated. Then he shrugged and left the light on as he stepped out of the room.

Lomas heard the guard locking the door and then walking away down the corridor as the footsteps gradually died down. Lomas was now alone in one of the guest quarters of the Galactica gamma sector. Alone? Oh no. Not at all.

Astral was there. Sitting on the floor, opposite the bunk, silently looking at Lomas. The angel looked more beautiful than ever. His blond, curly hair fell softly to the shoulders and the immense, green jewel-eyes were a gateway to heavens.

Cree was there too, pacing around the room, telling nervous jokes, trying to make Lomas, and himself, forget that they were being locked inside a small room.

Lomas just had to smile. That was just so typical pre-reborn Cree.

Cree the somewhat annoying. Cree the foolishly moving.

Starbuck was standing by the window, grinning at Lomas. "Now what, brother. Any plans?"

Lomas glared at Starbuck. Why was the man in this room now. He wasn't supposed to be here.

"I always desired you, Lomas. I should never have let you slip away." Apollo was leaning against the wall.

Lomas smiled. "I don't want you Apollo. You are nothingness."

Lomas sat down on the side of the bunk. He looked around to see the others but the room was empty.

* * *

Boomer fetched the rucksacks and all other bags from the largest closet. Then he walked to the bedroom wardrobe, opened it and took out all his clothes, placing them on the bunk. The military uniforms were the ones to remain on top of the pile of clothes. Boomer stared at the uniforms for a long time.

After what must have been more than ten centons, Boomer started folding the clothes and putting them into the bags, one by one. Very slowly, very carefully, like reliving a memory with each garment.

He packed the uniforms in separate bags than the civilian clothes. Boomer detached the colonial and military insigniasfrom the uniforms and placed tham into the bag pockets. The communicators and all other equipment belonging to the Galactica he lay on top of the uniforms. One more thing to do. Boomer unbuckled his belt, took the laser gun out of the holster and placed the weapon on the bunk. Slowly he folded the belt and put in in the bag.

Boomer's eyes lingered to the gun. It remained on the bunk. Boomer didn't want to touch it. He turned, walked to a chair in the corner of the bedroom and sat down to stare at the gun on the bed. It had saved his life so many times. Was it now time to give back?

* * *

Astral was lying on the bunk with his arms under his head, staring at the ceiling. He felt numb. Totally numb. Astral knew the numbness would be only temporary. Soon would arrive the anger, the disappointment, even sadness. But most of all, disgust. Lomas had seemed so… so… For sagan's sake, so anything, but not the monster he was claimed to be.

Astral had to admit to himself that he had become fascinated by the man. He had even considered delving into a relationship with Lomas, even though the piscenian religion forbid all physical interaction. Not that Astral would have really given a frack about the religion stuff. It was the older generation that took it more seriously and still tried to live like the religious rules demanded. And that was mostly eyewashing too. Astral, as all the other young adults on the Piscean knew better. Nobody lived under those rules nowadays.

Astral imagination created figures on the metallic ceiling. He saw clouds, unicorns, moons… And he saw Lomas' face. Astral stared into the pale, tranquil eyes. They were whispering to him. He tried not to hear what those eyes were saying. Lomas' lips were smiling. They were inviting Astral to enter the eyes.

Damn it! Why did he ever have to meet Lomas in the first place!

Well, Astral sure wasn't going to let the man influence his life any more. No way. He would never want to see Lomas again for the rest of his life…

Okay. After the judicial hearing tomorrow Astral would never want to see Lomas again. Not ever. Absolutely not.

By accident Astral happened to glance at the timepiece on the bedside table. Felgercarb, it was already way past time to drag oneself to a the centar of prayer. With a grimace Astral shot up from the bunk. Frack! The last thing he wanted to do right now was to listen to the sermon master's manic preaching and try to hide from the still agitated acolytes.

Astral opened the bedroom closet and pulled out the shabby cape of penance. Even the sight of it made him want to crawl back to bed. Astral reluctantly put the cape on and glanced at his reflection. He looked like a 6 foot dwarf from the Tales of Seven Enchanted Forests. Astral leaned closer to the mirror. Damn, there were dark bags under his eyes and his hair was a shaggy mess. Great. Oh well. Perhaps if he showed up to the holy assembly looking like a daggit, the sermon master would probably find something more interesting to concentrate in.

Astral hastily grabbed the book of prayers from the top of the dresser and dashed out of the room.

***

"What do you want to drink?" Starbuck eyed Apollo.

"I don't know… ummm… I'll have a cup of parbon juice. It goes better with the ambrata than grog." Apollo folded the menu and handed it over to the waiter.

Starbuck did the same, eyeing the waiter. Umm, yes. Bring us two ambratas with onions and peperato. Plus one cup of parbon juice and a cup of grog."

"Yes, lieutenant." The waiter left Apollo and Starbuck sitting at the table together alone.

Apollo picked up the fork beside his plate and started poking holes in his piece of bred. (Yes, it really was spelled that way on Caprica.) "I know you're going to sigh out with agony when you hear this, but…" Apollo's eyes were on the bred as he kept poking it.

"I'm already agonized from watching you abusing that poor thing." Starbuck grinned.

Apollo smiled. He looked at Starbuck. "When you were in the forbidden city…"

"Oh lords in heavens!" Starbuck buried his face into his palms.

"… You told me that you had distorted memories." Apollo kept his eyes on Starbuck. "I know it's none of my business, but I'm dying of curiosity…"

"Apollo…" Starbuck frowned. "You are ruining my appetite…"

"Please Starbuck, please tell me what memories you had." Apollo's leant closer.

Starbuck sighed resignedly. All right. But I refuse to describe the distortions."

"Fine by me." Apollo grinned. "I'm just curious about the memories…"

"One was about being lost in the forest after the cylons raded Cyrannus…"

"Go on." Apollo was listening.

"Then I remembered when I was sneaking into the orphanage primaries storage and one of the instructionesses caught me…" Starbuck grinned.

"What happened?" Apollo was smiling.

"Hey, I told you I wouldn't talk about the distortions…"

"No, I mean. What happened in real life?" Apollo grinned. "Did you get spanked?"

Starbuck smiled. "Nope. The instructioness let me off the hook. She was kinda nice…"

"You devil. You always wrapped everyone around your finger, didn't you." Apollo's eyes were amused.

"Not everyone." Starbuck grinned.

"Any other memories?" Apollo kept his eyes on Starbuck.

"Yeah. One that I'd rather forget." Starbuck didn't want to talk about this one. "It was the moment when I heard about the distruction of the colonies."

"I'm sorry." Apollo said softly.

"Can we stop talking about this now?" Starbuck glanced at Apollo. "This is not one of my favourite subjects…"

"Okay, if you want to." Apollo concented. "Sagan, those ambratas take long to be prepaired…"

Hey, there's one more!" Starbuck smiled.

"Huh?" Apollo lifted his eyes.

"I memorized about one of the summers in Ottawan."

"Really?" Apollo remembered that place oh so well. "Which summer?"

Starbuck paused. He looked at Apollo in the eyes. "Do you remember Vega…"

"Of course. Wasn't he the one making up all those stories about…"

"I saw him in the memory." Starbuck's eyes stared into the past for a centon. "I guess I should tell you something Apollo..."

"You had a crush on Vega." Apollo smiled.

"How in the frack do you know?…" Starbuck's jaw dropped.

"Come on Starbuck." Apollo was grinning. "It was written all over you."

"Great." Starbuck blushed.

Apollo's eyes were very amused by Starbuck's abashment. "What do you think happened to Vega by the way?" Apollo pondered. "We haven't seen him in yahrens…"

"Oh, he was probably killed in the distruction of the colonies." Starbuck was still blushed. "Can we talk about something else…"

Apollo kept his eyes on Starbuck for a long time. "Do you think Cassiopeia will ever recover?"

"You sure know how to pick a subject." Starbuck raised one eyebrow. "Jeeez…." Starbuck's face grew serious. "To be honest…" Starbuck replied. "I think it's very likely that she will die."

"What happened to optimism?" Apollo raised one eyebrow.

"It was replaced by realism. "Starbuck smiled. A sad smile. "And even if Cassiopeia did regain consciousness…" Starbuck spoke. "She would almost definitely wake up a vegetable." Starbuck hesitated for a micron. He looked into Apollo's eyes. "I really really hate to say this, but I think it would be a lot better if she did die…"

"You guys look cheerful."

Jolly was standing by the table, grinning.

"Hey Starbuck, I think Boomer has something important he wants to talk to you about."

Starbuck eyed Jolly, curious. "What? Why couldn't he come here…?"

"Hey, don't ask me!" Jolly shrugged. "I'm just the messanger boy here."

Starbuck grinned. "All right. I better go and see what Boomer wants." Starbuck arose from the chair. He bent a little towards Apollo and gave him a kiss on the lips. "Don't eat my ambrata while I'm gone…"

Apollo smile was wide. "You better hurry back then."

"I love you." Starbuck whispered into Apollo's ear. Then he left to meet Boomer.

* * *

Lomas laid down on the bunk and doubled up to foetal position. He kept his eyes open and stared at the wall. "Cree, I don't feel too good…" Lomas mumbled.

"What's the matter, Lomas?" Cree was sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I'm… I don't know. My stomach hurts." Lomas whispered. "I don't think I can move."

"Nonsense." Cree put his hand on Lomas' shoulder. "You have just eaten too many mushies for dinner."

"Cree, why are you wearing white?" Lomas looked up, confused. "Where did Astral go?"

Cree smiled. "Close your eyes now Lomas. You should get some sleep." Cree arose from the bedside. "Shall I turn out the light?"

"No, not the light. Please." Lomas narrowed his eyes to try to see Cree better. The boy was a mere blur. "Cree?"

"I'm right here."

"I feel sick…" Lomas rested his head on the pillow again. "I want to fade away…"

"Yes, Lomas. I know." Cree sighed sympathetically. "But you can't."

"I hate, Cree. I… hate myself." Lomas was tired of speaking. He was tired of awareness.

"Yes, occationally you do." Cree replied with patience.

Lomas pressed his forehead against the cold metal surface of the wall. "It will never be over, Cree." Lomas' voice was now almost unaudible.

"What's that?" Cree lifted one eyebrow.

"Emptiness." Lomas closed his eyes. "I want to be the wind, Cree. Please, help me be the wind."

"It's getting really late, Lomas. "Cree glanced at his timepiece. "You should definately get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a tough day with all the judicial felgercarb. You need strength."

Lomas didn't answer.

"You just get some sleep." Cree grinned encouragingly. "Soon the new day will arise and all these night-time shadows will vanish. You'll see…"

"That's where you are wrong, Cree." Lomas said quietly.

"They never do."

* * *

Starbuck knocked.

"It's not locked." Boomer's voice shouted from inside the quarters.

Starbuck pushed the door open and stepped in. "Hey buddy." He smiled. "What's up?"

"Hello Starbuck.". Boomer was standing by the window.

"What's going on here?" Starbuck stared at the rucksacks on the floor, stunned. "Are we supposed to go on patrol?…"

"I did some thinking…" Boomer started.

"Oh no…" Starbuck grimaced. "This doesn't sound promising."

Boomer could resist a smile. "Will you shut up for a centon. I'm trying to be serious here."

"All right." Starbuck said. "Go on."

Boomer looked at Starbuck for a while without saying anything. Then he spoke. "Things have to change, Starbuck. I'm not alive."

"What felgercarb are you letting out of your mouth. What are you then, a ghost?"

"I'm very serious." Boomer wasn't smiling. "I haven't lived for so long I don't remember what it is like. But…"

Starbuck kept his eyes on Boomer. "Hey, come on…"

"Please, let me finish before you say anything, okay?" Boomer's eyes pleaded. "I didn't invite you here because I wanted to talk about my so-called life." Boomer continued. "I asked you here because I..." Boomer turned to look out of the window. "I never stopped loving you Starbuck. And it is destroying me to stand aside and watch you with Apollo…"

"Boomer…" Starbuck said quietly.

"Please, let me finish." Boomer was looking at the stars far away. "Cree's death really affected me. I didn't love Cree, but he was someone dear. And he was so… alive." Boomer turned but his eyes were still avoiding Starbuck. "I thought about ending my life, Starbuck."

Starbuck gasped.

"I don't know whether I'm too weak or much stronger than I have realized, but I couldn't go through with it."

"Thank the sagans for that…" Starbuck's eyes were horrified.

"But I can't stay on the Galactica any more." Boomer lited his eyes. "I'm giving up my career as a military officer, a lieutenant and a pilot in the blue squadron."

"You can't be serious…" Starbuck couldn't believe his ears.

"I'm very serious." Boomer spoke. "I'm giving up my quarters on the Galactica."

"For lords' sakes, where would you be placed?"

"I have applied for one of the available quarters on the Rising Star." Boomer replied. And I have a good chance in getting it…"

"Boomer, you can't give up the military!"

Boomer's eyes were on Starbuck. "I already have another occupation…"

Starbuck stared at Boomer. "What? Where? When?…"

"I'll be working on the Rising Star…" Boomer smiled for the first time during the conversation. "…as a stripper."

"Boomer, for heaven's sake!" Starbuck had never heard anything so ridiculous in his whole life. "You are pulling my leg aren't you."

Boomer smiled. "No Starbuck. I'm very serious. I'll start work in 48 centars."

"You are insane, Boomer." Starbuck didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Don't you know what goes on behind the Rising Star stripping scene…"

"I'm very aware of the socialating business." Boomer kept his eyes on Starbuck. "Because I have agreed to become one of those socialators…"

"What??" Starbuck stared at Boomer. This couldn't be happening. This had to be a joke.

"I'm tired of my loneliness." Boomer spoke. "I have given in to the fact that I will never be loved the way I would hope to. I will never be in a proper relationship. I will always be filled with emptiness. And I will always be hurting because of you, Starbuck." Boomer walked closer. "I want closeness, Starbuck. In any way I can get it." Boomer smiled melancholically. "I'm tired of being lonely."

"For sagan's sake you fool." Starbuck was angry. "How can you possibly claim such things…"

"I knew you wouldn't understand." Boomer said quietly. "But you will. Perhaps. One day."

"Boomer I love you. Not like you want me to, but I still do." Starbuck just had to do something. He made a move to pull Boomer closer into a hug but the dark man didn't want to be touched. He turned and walked to the window. "Sagan Boomer!" Starbuck stormed. "You are an indispensible, dear friend. My goddamn brother. Why is it so fracking hard to see that there are so many people who love you unconditionally…" "Because I don't love myself, Starbuck." Boomer smiled.

* * *

The planet Probability was no longer in view. The fleet had moved 29 point 3 degrees west to avoid any possibility of a syflon hazard.

Rigel turned to glance at Omega. "We have been hovering still for 26 centars now. Is there something wrong with any of the ships?"

Omega took off his headphone. "No Rigel. According to the main surveillance data and all the ships' captains, everything should be in perfect order."

Rigel kept her puzzled eyes on the bridge operations co-ordinator. "Then why are we in the state of stagnation? Has the commander informed you of any deviation of normality?

Omega was quiet for a centon while he was checking the readings of the solium storage radiation.

"Well?" Rigel raised one eyebrow.

Omega looked at her. "Commander Adama has asked the operations division of every ship to hold their position until further notice."

"Why?" Rigel was amazed.

Omega shrugged.

"But this is absurd!" Rigel ejaculated. "The fleet is currently in a very negative situation if one considers the vulnerability and exposure to possible hostility…"

Omega was back to concentrating on the radiation readings on the computer screen. "I'm sure commander Adama has his reasons…" Omega mumbled absent-mindedly.

"Yeah, sure." Rigel snarled. "Has everyone on this fleet gone completely insane in the past three sectars… What if the cylons… What if the army of the black queen attacks! Probability is hardly a stone's throw away from us for lords' sakes…"

Omega wasn't really listening. "Hey Rigel, why don't you go and get a cup of coffee from the officers' club. They have great tulipian buds today. Real fresh…"

Rigel sighed. "I must be the only reasonable human being left on this battlestar. I should be the commander of the damn fleet…"

* * *

Starbuck's head was spinning as he left Boomer's quarters and headed towards the officers' club. He had lost all appetite. By all means, Apollo can eat both of the ambratas…

For sagan's sake Boomer had lost his mind. Starbuck couldn't let that daggit do such a terrible mistake. There had to be some way to turn Boomer's head around and talk some sense into him…

Someone was approaching Starbuck in the corridor. Starbuck sure wasn't in the mood to talk felgercarb to anyone. He hoped the person approaching him would be some freshly trained ensign or a cadet whom he didn't know and wouldn't have to deal with. Starbuck lifted his eyes. And his jaw dropped all the way to the floor.

"Hello Starbuck." Doctor Salik greeted. "Nice to see that you have returned safely."

"What?… How?… Frack!" Starbuck almost stumbled on his own feet. God damn it! Starbuck could easily take all the black queens, all the Baltars and the Lomases and other crackpots. For sagan's sake Starbuck could even handle it if he turned into a big, fat boray. But seeing doctor Salik in a corridor, in flesh and blood, resurrected from the death was definitely a little too much to handle!! "Salik?" Starbuck kept opening his mouth but only a little peep came out.

"Hello Starbuck." Doctor Wilker appeared behind the corner of the hallway. "I see you've already met the new, improved doctor Salik."

"Wilker…" Starbuck was peeping. "Don't you dare claim that you have some special abilities that you have kept hidden, because I will find it very hard to believe…" Starbuck glanced at Salik. "Or then again, maybe not so hard…"

Wilker laughed out loud. "What? The power to bring the dead to life. By heavens. No, of course not." Wilker eyed Starbuck extremely amused. "No, no, no, no, no. By lords no. This is not the doctor Salik. This is a doctor Salik. Starbuck, meet doctor Salik, the android." Wilker grinned. "He's a robot, Starbuck. Just like Muffit."

With disbelief Starbuck stared at Salik the android. "Well, you sure could have fooled me! He looks even more like doctor Salik than the real one…"

Wilker laughed.

Starbuck raised his eyebrows and looked at Wilker. "But why?"

"I could not possibly handle all the doctoring business on the Galactica on my own…" Wilker replied.

"Then why didn't you just employ and train up a new doctor…?" Starbuck asked, stunned.

Wilker smiled. "I guess I just got sort of used to my old buddy…"

* * *

Lomas jolted awake. "Cree?" For a centon Lomas had no idea where he was. "Cree, are you still here?" It hurt to speak. Lomas' throat felt like sandpaper.

Cree approached the bed. "I'm always with you."

Lomas shielded his eyes from the hurting, bright light in the room which made his head pound with stabbing pain. "Cree, I saw something I couldn't comprehend."

"What did you see?" Cree was still dressed in white and seemed to glimmer in the light of the room.

"You were lying on the floor, Cree. Bleeding. You were dying…"

"Only one of the dark dreams, Lomas." Cree smiled. "Go back to sleep."

"Cree…" Lomas suddenly took a hold of Cree's wrist. "You are behind veils…"

"No, Lomas. It's only moonsilver." Cree's voice was far away.

"Moonsilver…" Lomas closed his eyes for a centon. He saw. Baltar holding a gun. A sound. Cree diving in front of Lomas. A cry. Blood bursting out of Cree's chest. Blood smearing Lomas' tunic. Cree slowly falling to the floor. Pleads. Silence.

"Moonsilver…" Lomas whispered.

* * *

Starbuck was shaking his head as he entered the officers' club. Starbuck walked straight to the table where Apollo was sitting. He grabbed a chair, sat down and took a centon to slowly breathe out. Then he looked at Apollo. "Hold onto your chair buddy." Starbuck rolled his eyes. "Boy, do I have some news for you…"

* * *

"Xavier, would you come into my office for a centon..." The head of the sagittarian doctor with thick eyeglasses peeked from the doorway for a micron and then disappeared.

"What's up?" Xavier, one of the doctor's assistant strolled into the room.

"I trust you have read the notice about one of our former patients being taken to court tomorrow."

"Sure." Xavier took a chair and sat down. " Corporal Lomas. I remember him. Quite a character."

The doctor eyed Xavier. "In tomorrow's proceedings, Lomas is without any doubt found guilty. There is enough evidence to condemn him." The doctor corrected the position of his eyeglasses. "So I figured that the judicial hearing is obviously held because of trying to decide whether the defendant will be placed on the prison barge or here on the Sagittarian…"

"Yes…" Xavier waited for the doctor to continue.

"…And I am quite positive that Lomas will be re-placed here." The doctor finished the sentence. "But as you know, the Sagittarian is already overcrowded as it is." The doctor sighed. "So we need to come up with a locating solution."

Xavier thought for a centon. "Can the guy be placed in one of the dorms?"

"No, I don't think so." The doctor replied. "He's kind of a special case."

"But we don't have any private chambers available…" Xavier eyed the doctor.

"Exactly." The doctor prolonged the word. "So, the only choice is to place Lomas in a chamber with another patient…"

Xavier kept his eyes on the doctor. "Okay, but which one? This is going to cause problems…"

"Not necessarily…" The doctor smiled vaguely. "The patient in chamber seven in sector three…"

"The silent one." Xavier nodded.

"Yes. How long has he been on the Sagittarian?"

"He was brought here almost immediately after the distruction of…" Xavier replied thoughtfully. "I think it had something to do with… oh damn. I can't remember…"

"So, what do you think? Could we place Lomas with the silent one…" The doctor eyed Xavier.

"well, I don't see why not." Xavier replied truthfully.

"Good. I'll summon the board of psymed-doctors and take up this solution." The doctor smiled. "But I need a recommendation from one of my assistants. Would you…?"

"Of course." Xavier smiled. "I think the silent one is the perfect choice…"

* * *

Centars later. Very late at night. The corridors of the Galactica were deserted.

Corporal Antoniel yawned. He had returned to the Galactica from the Rising Star by the last shuttle before mornng cycle. The vehicle had been almost empty. A couple of ambrosa-giddy wing sergeants had kept Antoniel company telling him dopey jokes all the way to the battlestar. Thank sagans the flight had only lasted about seventeen centons. There's never much shuttle traffic at this time of sleep cycle.

It had been kinda slow night. Well, actually, it was never slow on the Star, but corporal Antoniel hadn't really felt like partying tonight. No reason, just too many duty shifts during the last two sectons. Too much work and no play sure had made Jack a dull boy, to quote one famous caprican horror novelist.

Antoniel dug into his pockets for the key. He yawned again. Tomorrow would be an off-duty day so lords help the person who might happen to interrupt him too early in the morning. Tomorrow would be dedicated to complete and utter laziness.

A sound.

Antoniel instinctively turned to take a worried look behind. The corridor was empty. Well of course it was empty. For sagan's sake, was he ever going to grow out of his dopey fear for dark places.

Two more corridors to go. In his mind Antoniel was already seeing the soft, inviting bunk awaiting in his quarters. A song of the Tucanas, the one that had been playing on the Star just before Antoniel had left, kept playing in his head now and made him hum along. Catchy tune! Perhaps Antoniel should buy the album…

A loud thump.

Antoniel's heart leaped two hectares and quickly he turned. This time he hadn't been mistaken. There was someone else in one of the nearby corridors.

Antoniel kept his wary eyes on the hallway behind but he didn't see anyone appearing from behind any corner. The corridors were completely silent. Sagan damn it. If there was someone in one of the hallways, why for felgercarb's sake did that person remain still and quiet now.

Footsteps.

Frack! Antoniel didn't hesitate. He turned and started loping down the hallway as fast as he could. The soft footsteps from behind hastened. Jeeez. Antoniel started running. The footsteps started running too. Shit! There was someone coming after him. Fast.

Antoniel noticed that the door to the beta sector cleaning storage was ajar. He couldn't believe the luck. Heart thumping Antoniel turned to take a hasty glance behind. There wasn't anyone else in the corridor yet. Thank you sagan! Antoniel flew to the storage room door, pulled it open and slid inside. Softly he closed the door and prayed that it would lock automatically. The damn thing didn't. The lock was broken. The felgercarbing door remained ajar.

Through the little gap Antoniel saw a dark figure appearing into the corridor. The figure halted. It remained still now, looking around the hallway, listening. Antoniel held his breath. Microns lasted milleniums.

Suddenly the figure turned. Swiftly, it returned to the direction where it had come from, soon disappering behind the corner. Antoniel closed his eyes.

For at least ten centons Antoniel remained crouching by the storage doorway, eyes closed, afraid to move. What if the strange person was still lurking behind that corner… What if it had crept back while Antoniel had not been looking and was waiting behind the storage room door.

Quietly Antoniel arose to his feet. He took a careful look through the doorway gap. The corridor seemed to be empty. Antoniel took a deep breath and gently pushed the door a little more open. Nothing happened. He wasn't suddenly attacked and strangled to death. No strange beings jumped on him and kicked him in the cojones.

Okay, here we go. Antoniel opened the door and stepped warily into the dark corridor. He felt a little current of air in the back of his neck. A warm current. Slowly, like in a nightmare, Antoniel turned. And he saw the person. So close to him.

Oh sagan, that smile… Those eyes…Antoniel had never before seen anything alike. And then he realized what the person was holding in the hand. Antoniel screamed… But only for a micron before his head was cut in half.

***

Chapter 23

Morning.

Lomas' eyes followed chief opposer Solon entering the judicial chamber and walking towards the court cathedras.

Fleet commander Adama, who was to be the judge in today's judicial proceedings, greeted the opposer and then eyed the audience in the chamber en passant.

The chamber was beginning to get packed. Perhaps it was time to start reducing the amount of people allowed to take part in the hearing.

The judicial proceedings were very seldom prohibited from the public, and this case was no different. But due to the surprisingly immense public attraction concentrating on the murder on the Galactica, guards had been placed around the chamber and in the doorways to keep an eye on the situation.

Lomas eyes wondered around the hall too. He noticed several intrigued glances rapidly being turned away when Lomas' eyes met them. Few individuals were courageous enough to meet Lomas' gaze and smile at him. One of those few was the piscenian waitress with big mouth. Lomas smiled back at her but the smile wasn't pleasant.

Starbuck was there, looking like he'd rather be somewhere else. He was sitting beside Apollo and Boomer, playing with a box of matches and jiggling his leg.

Lomas noted how Apollo raised one eyebrow and took a hold of Starbuck's wrist saying something. Starbuck started looking even more agonized.

Lomas smiled. He could almost hear the conversation in his mind.

Starbuck the impulsive, and at this moment obviously a very bored, daggit and Apollo the always so sensible captain. What a pair.

Lomas eyed Boomer for a centon. The man looked absent-minded and oblivious to what was going on around him. Lomas was kind of surprised to see Boomer present in the hearing.They had never been acquainted that well. Although they had shared centars in the near launching bay duty quarters in the past, they had never really payed any attention to each other. So why was the guy here now? Oh of course, Lomas realized. His buddies were present, that's why. Lomas knew so well that Boomer would probably follow Starbuck and Apollo to the edge of the universe, so why not to a meaningless judicial hearing. Lomas sighed empathically. A daggit in a leash…

Lomas' indifferent gaze lingered on to Nano, the whiny-voiced man who had made the arrest. By heavens the bloke looked ridiculous. Casting self-conceited glances and brash smiles at Lomas like some kind of a self-illusioned high and mighty geminian GFX-agent. Lomas leered. He winked at the man.

Nano's face darkened and the brashness turned to hatred.

Lomas grinned. Then he noticed the angel.

Astral quickly turned his eyes away the very moment Lomas looked at him. Damn it. Astral hands started twiching nervously on his lap. He felt Lomas' stare burning the right side of his face but Astral carefully kept his eyes at the cathedras in front of the judicial chamber to avoid the slightest eye-contact with Lomas.

Lomas kept his pleading eyes on Astral for a long time. He couldn't understand. Why was the angel consciously avoiding his eyes. It made no sense. Surely the angel didn't believe the mad felgercarb about Lomas' being guilty of something ridiculous like murder… Naah, of course not. The angel trusted Lomas. They were togetherness. But, despite this conviction, Lomas felt like his heart was suddenly clutched by abysmal coldness. Impenetrable darkness.

Someone touched Lomas' hand.

Cree smiled. "Don't worry. I will be with you."

"We are ready to proceed." Adama spoke.

The hum of voices in the chamber silenced and everyone present turned their awaiting eyes towards the judge podium.

"Please keep in mind that this is an official hearing. A person causing disruption will be immediately removed from the chamber." Adama's voice was cautionary. "And anyone who wishes to put forward circumstantial evidence concerning the subject of this proceeding, must await to be properly addressed."

Adama eyed on the audience for a couple of centons and then sat down on the judge's cathedra, placed on the highest podium. "Please be seated." The trial councel stated.

There was a little clatter as the participants in the audience took their seats.

Chief opposer Solon walked to the front of the chamber. "Corporal Lomas." He began. "You are accused of intentionally murdering a Galactican computer co-ordinator." Solon's piercing, dark eyes were at Lomas. "Is there anything you wish to say before I begin the interrogation."

Lomas stood up. He was surprised to notice that his hands were actually trembling. "I'm innocent, opposer." Lomas unflinchingly looked at Solon and the others present in the jury. His eyes were honest. A little tumult of voices arose.

"Quiet, please." Solon irritably glanced at audience. Then he turned his eyes back on the defendant. "Corporal Lomas. Are you aware that there is hard evedence pointing out that you did kill the co-ordinator. The control center surveillance equipment recorded your manouvres that day and the records show clearly that you were present in the control center and proceeded to kill an innocent youth."

Lomas stared at Solon, suddenly frightened. "I don't understand…" He noticed Cree's sympathetic eyes looking at him. Cree, baby. Please help me, Lomas' eyes prayed.

Cree put his hand on top of Lomas' and smiled encouragingly. "Everything will be all right, Lomas." Cree whispered. "I'm here with you. Nothing bad will happen. You need to trust me."

I trust you Cree. Lomas closed his eyes for a micron. Show me the way.

"Corporal Lomas." Solon spoke. "Would you come down to the front of the chamber and place your hand on the Holy Book of Kobol."

Lomas walked to the front, placed his hand on the book and repeated the kobollian oath of honesty after chief opposer Solon. Then he walked to a silver-coloured chair that was placed opposite the jury's cathedras and sat down.

Solon approached Lomas, not taking his eyes off the the man. "Let me repeat what the data states." Solon spoke, eyeing the papers on his hand. "You have gone through psychological treatment on the Sagittarian, after which you were placed on the Piscean." Solon lifted his eyes. "Is this correct?"

"Yes." Lomas replied warily.

Solon kept his thoughtful eyes on Lomas for a centon and then continued. "On the Piscean, according to few unfocused statements, your condition deteriorated." Solon glanced up. He took off his reading glasses and continued speaking without looking at the data on the papers. "For a reason which we can only suspect had something to do with co-ordinates…" Solon kept his eyes on Lomas. "…You sneaked onto the Galactica, trespassed into the control center and killed a computer co-ordinator, whom you obviously considered to be a dangerous witness to something you were planning."

"Objection!" The chief advocate Michel raised his hand. "The opposer is speculating!"

Objection overruled." Adama stated. "The surveillance records show clearly that the defendant proceeded to go forward with the killing."

"No… That's not true…" Lomas' eyes were wide. "I have never…"

"You are not allowed to speak." Adama warned.

"Then, if the evidence is condemning, why are we here..?" Advocate Michel shrugged.

"Every accused person is entitled to a judicial hearing. And in this case the main goal is to find out whether the defendant committed the crimes intentionally or under a state of mental disturbance."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that during this hearing it will be decided whether the defendant should be sentanced to the prison barge, or placed on the Sagittarian for psychological treatment."

"I understand." Chief advocate Michel took a seat.

Adama looked at opposer Solon. "You may continue."

Solon approached Lomas. "For some reason you returned to the Piscean, on where you stole the ship's commander's shuttle. Then, according to the statements from lieutenant Starbuck, you confronted Baltar and as a result of that confrontation, cadet Cree died."

"What??" Lomas stared at Solon, confused. "No, you are wrong…"

"After the confrontation you stole lieutenant Starbuck's viper and unlicensedly used his identity code to land on the Piscean…"

"This is all felgercarb!!" Lomas suddenly shot up. "Yes, I stole the shuttle of some old piscenian goat and nicked Starbuck's sagan forsaken viper. Yeah, I admit to using Starbuck's name and identity code when landing on a ship full of complete idiots. Big deal!…"

Gasp in the audience.

"I'm warning you corporal…" Adama eyed Lomas.

"…But all this felgercarb about killing a co-ordinator… It's absurd!!!" The lights in the chamber made Lomas' eyes hurt and the back of his head was beginning to ache. "And all this idiocy about cadet Cree" Lomas' tried to ignore the flickering of the fluorescent lights. "How can you say he's dead when he is sitting right there amongst you…"

A tumult of voices. A shudder brushed over the audience.

"Silence in the chamber!" Adama raised his voice. "Silence!"

Solon turned towards the audience. "Liutenant Starbuck. You claimed that Cadet Cree was shot by Baltar when trying to save the life of corporal Lomas…"

"Isn't it rather obvious that someone is dying when it happens right in front of you!" Starbuck rolled his eyes. He couldn't believe he had just been asked this question. "And if you need further reassurance, then may I suggest that you talk to doctor Wilker. He was there to take Cree's body right after I had landed on the Galactica…"

Lomas paled. He turned to stare at Starbuck. An unflinching, piercing stare.

"Corporal Lomas, how do you explain this statement?"

Lomas didn't hear.

"Corporal Lomas…" Solon approached the chair.

Lomas turned his eyes. He was smiling. "Corporal Lomas isn't here at the moment. Can I take a message?"

Stunned silence in the audience.

"Oh heavens. His personality just changed!" The pisceanian waitress whispered excitedly to the person sitting next to her. "This is horrible…"

Chief opposer Solon kept his wary eyes on Lomas. "Who am I addressing right now?"

Lomas smiled. "Well, the president, of course!" He winked.

Solon's face darkened with anger.

Lomas laughed. "Jeeez you guys are easily fooled. Who did you think I'd be. Sagan?"

"This is not the place for dumb jokes, corporal."

"Who's joking?" Lomas grinned. He stood up. "May I say a few words here…"

"This is an outrage…" Solon puffed.

Lomas stood up. He walked away from the cathedras and approached the audience.

"You guys think I have some kind of schitzophrenic multiple personality disorder. Well, let me correct your false views." Lomas halted in front of the first rows of the audience. "I am not at all what you fools think. "Lomas eyed the crowd. "I'm different." He smiled. "I'm above you, but you cannot comprehend my existence because on your level…" Lomas paused. He saw Astral's angelic face amonst the other faces, meaningless ones. "You an I are one." Lomas' smile turned pained. "Please don't let nothingness pull you away from where you exist."

Astral blushed as people in the crowd turned to look at him, curiously. "Lomas, shut up…" Astral hissed through clenched teeth, causing even more curious glances being turned towards him.

"Please Astral, become." Lomas spoke, forlornly. "Because only then I can become."

Lords! Astral wanted the ground to swallow him this micron. He closed his eyes and tried to be invisible.

"I do not only love you, Astral." Lomas eyes were so immense. "I exist in your presence. That is when I'm created."

Astral covered his face with his hands. This was horrible…

The pisceanian waitress' head was craning higher than all the other heads in the crowd. She didn't want to miss a centon of this development. This sure did beat the IFB's day-cycle soap operas...

"Astral, I want to tell you about heartshine, starbeams, lakes of silver, moments of eternity…" Lomas suddenly fell silent. His puzzled gaze swept over the audience. "Cree?" He asked, confused.

"I'm here, master." Cree was beside Lomas, smiling tenderly.

Lomas turned towards the boy and extended his hand. "Take me to the rivers…"

"I can't watch this felgercarb any more…" Starbuck stood up and tried to detach Apollo's hand that had tightly grabbed a hold of him.

"For heaven's sake Starbuck, sit down and act like a man of your age should…" Apollo's voice was irritated. "You can't leave now, damn it. You are expected to give a statement in half a centar…"

"They won't need my statement." Starbuck replied. "They will soon see everything with their own eyes." Starbuck glanced at Lomas. "I've seen him changing before and I'm not looking forward to seeing it again."

"What do you mean changing?" Apollo kept a hold on Starbuck's arm. "He's just acting because he enjoys to annoy people."

"No, Apollo." Starbuck answered.

And then they heard the cry.

Lomas dashed to the east-side wall of the chamber and started banging his forehead against the metal, so hard that blood was soon running down his face. Lomas' scream was like the one of a wounded wild animal. Hair-raising, so heartbreaking. And he kept tearing his hair with his nails.

A guard got a hold of Lomas from behind and tried to keep the man still while shouting for help.

Lomas fought himself free from the grip and threw himself against the wall.

Astral tried desperately to cover his ears with his hands so he wouldn't hear Lomas' penetrating screams. By lords, the man's beautiful face was all covered in blood now. Astral felt sick. He could hardly bare to watch bloody scenes in the IFB movies and now this!! Sagan how he wanted to run out of the chamber and forget that a person called Lomas had ever existed, but all Astral could do was to stare at the man being empowered by something horrifying and uncomprehendible.

Suddenly complete silence. Lomas fell to the floor.

Everyone in the chamber remained paralyzed for centons.

"Sagan damn it!" Starbuck roared. "Get him now that he's unconscious!!! Tie his arms!!"

Three guards hesitantly started towards Lomas. One of them was pulling handcuffs out from his back pocket.

"Too late." Lomas opened his eyes and grinned.

Like a lupus he shot up from the floor and attacked the guards.

Starbuck grimaced. He remembered too well the horrible strength Lomas had when he believed in it.

Lomas kicked one of guards in the cojones and the guard bent over with a yelp. Lomas quickly grabbed the laser gun from the guard's holster and pointed the gun at the two other approaching guards. "Stop right there, my friends." Lomas smiled. "The party's over."

The guards halted.

Lomas took his time walking around the two men, pointing the gun at them the whole time.

"Do you eat you parbon berries with whipped cream?" Lomas grinned. "Oh you should! That's the second important lesson my father ever taught me." Lomas eyed the guards with mischief. "The first one? " Lomas smiled. "You should never trust a man who talks about parbon berries."

Lomas fired.

The two guards fell. They were already dead even before they hit the floor.

People in the audience started screaming their lungs out and most of them dived on the floor to take any kind of shelter from more possible firing.

Grinning, Lomas aimed the gun towards the audience. "What's the matter? Did someone's wallet just fall apart? Hey save me some of those cubits or I'll shoot…" Lomas laughed. He saw Starbuck.

"Well hello there." Lomas smiled. "Why don't you join me up here like a loving brother would."

"Why don't you just crawl back to the hole where you came from." Starbuck hissed.

"Wanna crawl with me?" Lomas winked. "Hey, how about us crawling back to the past. Doesn't that sound fascinating…"

"It's useless repeating yourself Lomas." Starbuck replied calmly. "I'm not affected by you any more…."

Lomas eyed Starbuck amused. "My, my. Aren't we independent. Does this mean that you won't be coming to my quarters on Kobolmas." (Author's note: The yahrenly celebrated birthday of the oldest lord of Kobol.)

"Exactly that." Starbuck eyed Lomas sarcastically. "And no more family dinners either."

"Well, I'll be damned!" Lomas was grinning.

Starbuck was slowly drawing his gun out hoping to sagan that Lomas woudn't notice.

Apollo was staring at Starbuck's movements horrified. What was the idiot doing. Lomas would undoubtedly shoot the very micron he suspected something. Apollo kicked Starbuck in the shin.

Starbuck winced.

Lomas raised one eyebrow. "What the frack was that?"

Starbuck was clenching his teeth, trying to keep his voice normal. "Err… Nothing. I just kicked myself in the leg by accident…It's not that comfortable slouching here on the floor…"

Lomas laughed. "Okay Bucky. Put that gun on the floor, kick it over to me and raise your hands where I can see them…"

"Yes, Obi-Wan." Starbuck grabbed the gun out of the holster and fired.

The shot hit Lomas' upper arm. The gun he was holding dropped to the floor and Lomas fell on his knees, crying out in pain.

"The fastest shooter in the wild west Aries." Starbuck grinned.

Apollo rolled his eyes and shook his head. Then he looked at Starbuck. "By the way Bucky…" Apollo raised one eyebrow. "Who the frack is Obi-Wan?"

~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~

Time stopped.

Lomas was holding his arm, staring at something the others couldn't see.

"Cree…" Lomas pleaded. "Please help me!"

Cree remined silent.

Cree?" Lomas tried to touch Cree but the boy was behind veils.

"I can't Lomas. Not now." Cree replied softly.

Lomas' eyes were drowning in Cree's. "Moonsilver?"

Cree nodded.

Lomas slowly closed his eyes.

Cree remained in stillness, staring at Lomas. So beautiful, so many moonbeams away.

Lomas opened his eyes and saw the dark rivers of his mind. He saw the sadness, the rainbows, the darkness and the stardust hidden in his heart. He looked through them all and met Cree's eyes. "I'm so sorry…"

Cree touched Lomas' face, gently. Lomas placed his own hand on top of Cree's.

For a moment, moonsilver surrounded them both.

* * *

Epilogue

"Eight six eight point five requesting entrance to sector three."

A metal door slid to the side and Lomas felt a little tap on his shoulder as the prison barge officer escorting him to sector three, one of the five totally restricted areas on the Sagittarian mental health facilities, gave him a sign to move forward.

Lomas stepped through the doorway and saw yet another one of security checkpoints. He rolled his eyes. There seemed to be a fracking security check behind every forsaken corner.

"Please, raise your hands." A man wearing SG-uniform stepped forward.

Lomas did as he was told and waited patiently the security guard hand-searched him and then led him through transillumination.

"All clear." The controller by the scan-com nodded her head.

Lomas was then led to a pentagon shaped room and handed a black garment and an insignia. He eyed the stuff. "What's this?"

"The official uniform of sector three." The security guard replied. "You are expected to wear it."

Resignedly Lomas sighed and pulled on the black garment, a tunic. It came all the way down to his ankles and the sleeves were much too long. Thank sagan there weren't any mirrors in the room…

"And the insignia…" The guard reminded.

Lomas struggled with the needle but finally succeeded in detaching the felgercarbish thing on the collar of the damn tunic.

The prison barge officer was leaning against a wall, tapping his foot impatiently on the floor waiting to take Lomas to chamber seven.

"What's the rush?" Lomas eyed the officer sarcastically. "You need to use the turboflush or something?"

"Shut up and let's get going." The officer walked over to Lomas and took him by the arm. "The doctor's awaiting."

More corridors. And then some more.

Lomas was starting to feel like they were either lost and kept walking in circles or they would soon accidentally walk completely off the whole ship. Not that it would have mattered much to Lomas. He would rather have drifted away to space than spend centars, sectons, sectars in nothingness.

No, the imprisonment was not the nothingness. Lomas didn't give a frack about being sentenced to the Sagittarian for psychological treatment for an undefined period of time. Nothingness was the truth. Reality.

Cree, the sweet angel face would forever be veiled behind moonsilver. How Lomas wished that he could have been the one to die instead of the boy.

Astral, the beautiful angel had turned away. From now on Lomas would be a prisoner of endless pain. The only reason for existence had shattered.

But one night. During the most silent centars, Lomas knew The vision of the angel would return. Kneal beside Lomas' bed and softly touch his face. Whisper sweet lies into his ears. Lead him to the garden of starlight. To the remains of what used to be beauty. To memories.

Yes, the illusions were fading. But the rivers would always be there.

One more door. The officer held onto Lomas' arm as they stepped into what looked like an office. Lomas had been there before.

"Welcome back young man." The doctor with thick eyeglasses arose from the chair behind his desk and corrected the position of his eyeglasses. "How are you feeling today?"

Lomas gave the old man a glare. "Never been better, thank you…"

The guard gave Lomas a warning glance. The doctor kept twiching nervously, annoyingly.

"I presume you have been informed that we have no private isolation chambers available, so we are going to place you with another person."

"Wonderful." Lomas sneered.

"Yes. But why don't I take to your chamber now." The doctor smiled. "Please, follow me."

The doctor led the two men to a monitored hallway very near the brainwave calibration units and stopped in front of a thick door searching for keys in his pocket. "I can assure you that the patient in chamber seven is the best choice we could have come up with…"

"How reassuring." Lomas snorted.

"Here we go…" The doctor inserted the key to the lock and opened the door. He turned and smiled at Lomas. "After you…"

Lomas stepped into the chamber. It took a while for his eyes to adjust to the faint light but gradually the room started having horizons and details.

Lomas noted that the chamber was bigger than the previous one he had been placed in, but exactly as aschetically furnished and dull as frack. Apart from two uncomfortable looking beds there was a sink, two drawers, a cracked mirror on the wall, an small IFB receiver and two wooden stools by the small window. A binary wardrobe was inserted into the wall.

On the table there was a pile of books and an empty, unwashed cup. The three lamps hanging from the ceiling were even uglier than the one in the previous room and they sure didn't light up the chamber much. Long, secretive shadows reigned the room.

Lomas didn't care. He wouldn't be affected by darkness any more. Darkness was only a part of nothingness. No monsters. No voices. Surely he wouldn't be afraid…

A figure of a man arose from the bunk. He had been so veiled in the shadows that Lomas hadn't noticed him at first.

"Meet your roommate." The doctor smiled at Lomas. "This is patient beta755. We refer to him as the silent one."

"Really?" Lomas raised one eyebrow. "And what will I be? The one who surfs the rivers…"

The doctor didn't get the sarcasm.

"The silent one has been here almost since the distruction of our colonies but to this day, no one here on the Sagittarian is aware of his real name or identity."

Lomas was a fraction surprised. He glanced at the silent one, intrigued.

"But why don't I leave you boys to get acquainted." The doctor grinned and Lomas felt overpowering desire to kick him. "I will come by in two centars to take the necessary blood samples and take you to pre-calibration. Tomorrow we can begin the sessions and define you medication."

"I can hardly wait." Lomas snorted. He was still eyeing the silent one.

"Oh, by the way. You might want to turn on the IFB." The doctor turned at the door."In a few centons there will be somekind of a newsflash from the Galactica…"

Lomas glanced at the doctor. "The Galactica?"

"Yes, the commander himself has requested fifteen centons of broadcasting time to speak to the people of the fleet." The doctor gave one more annoying smile before he stepped into the corridor. "Make yourselves comfortable. I will be back in two centars." The old man closed the door.

Lomas looked at the silent one. "Do you mind if…"

"No." The silent one eyed Lomas. "Go ahead."

Lomas walked to the receiver and turned it on. There wasn't anything on the IFB yet, only informative programme data.

"You can take the bunk on the left. It's the unoccupied one." The stare of the man made Lomas uneasy.

"Thanks." Lomas walked to the bunk to sit down. He tried not to look at the man, but he couldn't help it. His eyes kept turning towards the guy. Secret, curious glances. There was something intriguing about the silent one.

Not in the way he looked. Sure, the guy's appearance was pretty but definately not unexceptional. Light brown hair, Starbuck haircut, skinny figure but not fairylike and fragile like Astral's. Slant eyes that made one suspect the guy was of scorpion origin…

Yes, very pretty, but not intriguing. The allure was not in the looks. It was in the essence. Something less ordinary…

The man glanced at Lomas. Frack! Quickly Lomas turned his eyes away.

"See anything you like?" The man raised one eyebrow. He kept his eyes on Lomas for a long, long time, smiling.

Lomas was strictly staring at the IFB receiver, hoping to sagans that the fracking broadcasting would start…

* * *

"Airing in five centons…" The assistant director of the IFB shouted. "Can I get some more light here…Hey, key grip! Bring the dolly a metron closer…"

Adama was sitting patiently at the end of the council table while the make up artist was hassling with his face. ""Hold still now…" The girl mumbled with concentration.

"I don't see the reason for all this beautifying…" Adama murmured. "This is only an informative briefing about the situation of the fleet for sagan's sake."

The girl smiled. "This is not beautifying commander. This is inevitability so your face will look normal in the cameras…"

"Sound?" The assistant director shouted.

"We are ready." An answer came from somewhere in the crowd.

The cameraman whispered something to the director who turned and raised his hand.

"Hold it." The director walked to the microphone holder. "The mic is showing. We need a frame. Airing in three centons!" The assistant director shouted.

"I need a voice sample…" The sound editor raised his hand and stated while keeping his eyes on the the equipment in front of him.

"Commander?" The assistant director gestured to Adama.

"One two, one two…" Adama rolled his eyes.

"Perfect." The sound editor was pleased. "I'm using alpha frequency."

The producer was walking amongst people, keeping an eye on the situation.

"Airing in 20 microns!" The assistant director raised his hand and looked around the room.

Adama took a deep breath. Lords he hated these broadcastings. He would rather have spoken personally to an assembled crowd here on the Galactica…

Besides, the assistant director's loud voice was getting on Adama's nerves.

"Airing in ten microns!… Lights!… Can we have some more light here please! How many times do I have to ask… Camera!… All set!"

The director standing beside the cameraman kept his eyes on the marked frame. He lifted his hand. "Aaaand... Action!"

The red "On Air" sign lit up and the room silenced.

"People in the fleet…" Adama looked straight into the camera. "I am commander Adama…"

* * *

"No shit…" Starbuck was leaning back on the couch with his hands behind his head and one leg over another, watching the Inter Fleet Broadcasting. "And here I was thinking that he was the big bad lupus…"

"Shut up Starbuck." Apollo hissed. "I want to hear this…"

Starbuck glanced at Apollo. "You have any idea what this is about?"

"Not really." Apollo leaned a little forward in his chair to get a better view. "But I do suspect it has something to do with the fact that the fleet has remained stagnated for an unexceptionally long time…"

"Are you saying that Adama hasn't mention anything to you?" Starbuck took a fumarello out of the pack and put it in his mouth.

"Nothing." Apollo kept his eyes on the receiver.

"Well I'll be damned!" Starbuck lifted his eyebrows while lighting the fumarello. "Now I'm getting really intrigued…"

"Uh huh…" Apollo wasn't listening.

"Hey, you think it has something to do with the slaughters…" Starbuck said thoughtfully "What if they've got an idea who the killer is…"

"Yeah…" Apollo answered absently.

"I've been wondering about the murderer…" Starbuck watched the fumarello smoke slowly moving. "Do you think it could be Lomas… I mean… Heck, the guy ain't the sanest person I've met…"

"Ummmm…."

"Apollo, you're not listening to me…"

"Starbuck, sagan damn it. Can we please watch this broadcasting!!"

"You're right, I'm sorry.." Starbuck fell silent and concentrated on the IFB. "By the way Apollo…" Starbuck turned to look at the other man.

"Starbuck!!!!"

"Okay, okay…"

* * *

"People in the fleet, you all are aware of the meaning of our voyage..." Adama began his speech. "After the distruction of our homes we have been trying to escape from our enemy the cylons and kept searching for one particular place to re-establish our lives on."

The camera moved closer to Adama.

"In good faith I have been leading you to a planet, which the old legends of Kobol refer to as Earth…" Adama paused. He kept his eyes on the camera. "Yes, I have been trying to follow the footsteps of the ancient thirteenth tribe believing in the colonial desire to find other human beings…"

Adama slowly arose from the chair he had been sitting on and walked to the lit radar on the left of the room. The camera followed him.

"Lately however, I have come to reconsider the possibilities and the actuality of our situation… Adama turned to face the camera. "Reconsidering the possible target of our voyage…"

***

Starbuck gasped. "Oh no, don't tell me your father wants to move to Probability…"

Apollo grinned. "What's the matter? You don't like the idea of living under water?"

Starbuck grimaced. "Let's just say that I don't find the idea of living next door to the black queen very alluring…"

* * *

Adama was now standing in front of the bright radar map. "I have grown weary of constantly searching for a place that might not exist at all, or which could still be millions and millions of parsecs away from us."

The camera slid closer to Adama's face.

"Yes, I am tired of searching for Earth." Adama paused, keeping his eyes on the camera. "People of the fleet. I have decided that we will end our journey on the next suitable planet that comes across."

"Aaand cut to the commercial break!" The director shouted. "Fifteen microns!"

* * *

"Frack!!" Starbuck stared at the receiver not really knowing whether his explosive frack was manifested to the timing of the commercial break or the bomb Adama had just dropped.

"You sure have a way with words…" Apollo was amused.

"Can you believe that!" Starbuck turned to look at Apollo. "Your father is giving up on his dream…"

Apollo eyed Starbuck for a centon, thoughtfully. "Yes, you're right, he is." Apollo nodded. "But beside all the dreams always lies reality. Adama is the fleet commander. He is in a position where he has to place the needs of others ahead of the ones of his own."

"Poor Addy!" Starbuck sighed. "Tough job being a commander…"

"Yep." Apollo could hide his smile. "But someone's got to do it."

"What do you feel about this?" Starbuck eyed Apollo. "I know you wanted to find Earth too."

"Perhaps we will find it some day." Apollo arose from the chair. "Perhaps Earth will be the next suitable planet that comes across."

"Always optimistic." Starbuck grinned. "I suppose the next thing you're gonna say is that the cylons will stop hating us, the worldpeace is just around the corner, we will all live happily together forever after and I'm going to win a million cubits…"

"Not such a bad thing to think about." Apollo walked to the couch, sat down and crawled to Starbuck's side.

Starbuck put his arm around Apollo, pulled him close and kissed him on the forehead. "What, the worldpeace or the million cubits?" Starbuck grinned.

"The happiness." Apollo smilled."Time to set the sealing date!"

Starbuck eyed Apollo warmly. "Okay, how about three sectons from now. That'll give us enough time to fight over which one of us gets to wear the dress…"

Apollo grinned and kissed the tip of Starbuck's nose. "Sounds perfect."

Starbuck pulled Apollo into a tight hug. "I love you Appy. Just when I think that I'm gonna burst from love like a balloon I realize that I love you a million times more…"

Apollo laughed. "You've been reading those damn Sidney Sagittara novels again…"

"I'm serious Apollo." Starbuck closed his eyes and held Apollo tight. "I love you so much more than life Apollo. My love for you is infinate."

"I love you too." Apollo whispered. "You are my sun and my stars, my reason and my dreams. You are everything I exists for."

The two men stared into each others' eyes, Lost in their own world of absolute beauty. Nothing else mattered.

"By the way Starbuck!" Apollo raised one eyebrow. "You've been using my aftershave again…"

* * *

"We have ten centons of airing time left!" The assistant director shouted. "The commercial break will end in seven microns."

The make-up artist quickly finished adding some powder on Adama's face.

"Ready?" The assistant director eyed around the room. "Okay! Lights!… Camera!…"

Adama coughed to clear his throat. He was back to sitting at the end of the table.

"All set!"

A microns total silence.

"Aaaaand… Action!

"People of the fleet…"

* * *

"Turn it off." The silent one was blankly staring at the figures on the receiver screen.

"But…" Lomas eyed the man.

"Turn it off." The man turned to look at Lomas. "Please."

Lomas arose from the bunk, walked to the receiver and switched it off. He turned to look at the man. "Hey, what do you think…"

The silent one had laid down on the bunk. His eyes were closed and he was breathing quietly.

"Great! A party daggit…" Lomas rolled his eyes and he returned to his own bunk. "I might as well be on the damn Piscean…" Lomas laid down on the bunk too and stretched. Okay, he might as well sleep for two centars until the idiot doctor returned…

"What is your name?" A question came from the shadows. "Other than the one who surfs the rivers…"

Lomas laughed out loud. "Lomas. You mind telling me yours?…"

"Why are you here?" The silent one asked.

"You really don't know?" Lomas grinned. "And here I was thinking that I was the fleet celebrity…"

The figure on the bed was quiet for a while. "Why didn't they place you on the prison barge."

Lomas turned his eyes to look at the man. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

"Okay. I'm here because…" Lomas sat up. "I'm…"

"…Infinity, sadness, intensity, fragility, stardust, invincibility, moonshine, sunlight, darkness, anxiety, beauty, the rivers, the wind and the uncomprehendible…" The man smiled.

Lomas could do nothing but stare.

The dark figure sat up on the bed and turned to face Lomas. "We are alike." The man' eyes were like the ones of a cat. They were alive in the darkness. "The flow is in me too..."

"No offence but…" Lomas eyed the man. No wonder the guy was placed on the Sagittarian. He was crazy for real.

"You think that all you have left is nothingness, don't you." The man's face was almost sympathetic. "But you couldn't be more mistaken…" The man stood up and walked to the window. He remained standing there with his back turned to Lomas. "I can take you back…"

"To where…?" Lomas already knew.

The man turned. "To what you have always been."

Lomas kept his eyes on the man for a long, long time. "I need to know who you are."

The silent one smiled. "My friend, I am you."

Lomas smiled. He knew so well what the man meant. He understood. "Who are you in me?"

The man walked to Lomas and took a hold of both his hands. His smile was pure. "In you, my name is Vega. I'm from Ottawan…"

***

"Five centons!" There was a sharp knock on the door. Boomer's eyes didn't turn his eyes away from the mirror. No, he wasn't looking at the reflection of all the colours, the make-up, the feathers, the paillettes or the glitter and glamour of the jewels. He didn't see the reflection of a performer, nor a stripper. What he saw was a new beginning. The first night on the Rising Star. The first performace.

It was time. Boomer arose from the chair. He kept his eyes on the mirror a while longer as he added some more glimmering eyeshadow and then he pouted his lips seductively like he had seen done in some glamorous old-time movies. Perfect. He was ready. And he was nervous as frack.

Stomach full of butterflies the size of colonial freighters Boomer approached the closed curtains. From the other side he could hear voices, laughter, soft background music and merry jingling of glasses. Boomer closed his eyes for a centon. He concentrated.

"30 microns." Someone knocked Boomer shoulder. A young boy dressed in gold strings that left nothing to the imagination winked at Boomer and gave him the thumbs-up sign.

The announcer's footsteps echoed in the lounge as he walked the microphone placed on the stage. From behind the curtains Boomer could see the figure of the man. Boomer swallowed. Here we go…

"Ladies and gentlemen, performing on the Rising Star for the first time tonight… CHOCOLATE LOVE…"

The curtains started to rise. Boomer created a huge smile on his face and walked to the front of the audience. The fanfares were defening and the multicoloured lights were flashing blindingly. For a moment Boomer could see nothing but the flashing, but he heard applause from the audience. He heard cheers of encouragement and approval. The smile on Boomer's face turned genuine. He winked. More cheers.

The music stopped. A moment's total silence. Boomer took his position.

The first beats of "Love Love Love" filled the Astral lounge. The lights in the audience turned dark purple and the spotlight of gold illuminated the stage. Boomer blew a kiss to the audience. A thunder of cheers. Boomer swallowed. He took a couple of awkward, overly practised steps at the same time as he started slowly pulling the feather boa off from around his neck.

With a wink and a smiled Boomer tossed the boa towards the front rows of the audience. Somebody shouted something. The beat of "Love Love Love" accelerated. The warmth of the spotlights caressed Boomer's skin. They danced on the walls, entwined with the anticipation. And it all changed.

Boomer became the Music and the Lights. He became Sensuality and Enticement. He was born to be a Star.

***

"What centar is it?" Cadet Cora glanced the attendant. "Couldn't we close the beta sector storage control a just a little earlier tonight. Just this once…"

Beta attendant Erik raised his eyebrow. "You are always trying to slip out of your duties young lady."

"Please." Cora smiled beggingly. "Just this once. What could possibly happen in a stock room of a battlestar in the middle of space for heaven's sake. It doesn't seem very likely that someone would want to sneak in here and steal a trunk of Kogas…"

Erik sighed, trying to hide his amusement.

"Cora, you are incurable! Okay, let's lock the place up. We would only have ten centons left anyway." Erik arose from the chair behind the duty desk. "Get the keys."

"Erik, you are a sweetheart." Cora blew kisses to the attendant. "If I wasn't dating corporal Storke I would definately get sealed to you in a micron!"

"Just get the keys." Erik grinned. "Let's get out of here…"

~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~

Darkness and secrecy cascaded into the stock room. An old gamma radiator, placed near the duty desk, kept snapping as it cooled down.

There were other sounds too. Those, that always remained in a room after it was left deserted. The low hum of the battlestar engine, it never silenced. The dripping of the water faucet in the storage room turboflush. The patter of occasionally appearing phi-particles on the window. Oh, they sounded just like autumn rain on Caprica.

Then there was the unaudible noises, the ones that lingered on in the silence. The echos of memories from moments before. Those were the loudest sounds.

The lid of the 5 megon kogas storage trunk started to open slowly.

Carefully he looked around in the darkness before quietly climbing out of the huge wooden box with something in his hand. Something that looked like one of those sickles used on the livestock ship for cutting up gorellian meat or stone-hard jamalah fruits.

The man waited and listened. Only sounds of silence.

He smiled. The man from Caydra. The man with the blazing black eyes…

* * *

Fleeing from the cylon tyranny, the last battlestar, Galactica, leeds a ragtag fugitive fleet, On a lonely quest – for a shining planet, Known as Earth…

...Or possibly someplace else.

THE BEGINNING