BY YOUR COMMAND - Static ARCHIVE

The two lovers lay in sated sleep. The darker of the two opened his eyes first and began fondling the blond next to him. The blond stirred languorously, but didn't open his eyes. He was awake; he just wanted to make his lover work for it.

"So that's your game, is it?" the darker man growled. "I can play, too." He slid down under the blanket that covered them and began paying attention to the interested cock with his mouth. The blond moaned softly as his lover began; the man knew just where to hit to get him rock hard in no time! He smiled to himself.

The other man stopped his ministrations. "Now, if you don't open your eyes, I'm going to leave, Bucko."

"Oh, Boomer," Starbuck said, as if he were still asleep, but dreaming.

"Boomer? Trying to make me jealous, Bucko? Won't work this time."

A brief pause. "Del?"

"You're pushing it, Bucko."

"Oh, it's you, Apollo," he said, finally giving up all pretense when his lover refused to continue making love to him.

"Don't sound so disappointed, Starbuck. You'll hurt my feelings."

"You hurt mine by stopping," Starbuck pouted, that full bottom lip sticking out childishly.

"Poor baby! I know just how to soothe *those* hurt feelings." He pulled Starbuck closer for a long kiss. Starbuck accepted Apollo's tongue, letting it caress his palate. Apollo pulled back and returned to his earlier activities. Starbuck moaned again as his lover teased him back to full arousal. He was soon writhing under his lover, purring contentedly.

Apollo decided to take it a step further. He traded his mouth for his hand briefly and sucked one finger from the other hand into his own mouth. After making sure it was good and wet, he returned his mouth to his lover's erection. The wet finger then found its way to Starbuck's backside and thrust its way gently into the tight opening.

Almost immediately, he felt his lover stiffen and the lovely erection begin to fade. The purring stopped and the moan was replaced by a stifled whimper.

He looked up at Starbuck's face - and immediately wished he hadn't. Starbuck looked terrified.

"Frak! Starbuck, I'm sorry! I didn't think..."

"S'okay, 'Pol, I'll be okay," he panted. "Just... just give me a centon, will you?"

Apollo crept back up to his lover and held him tightly. Starbuck was trembling violently. It took a few centons before he began to relax again.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to overreact on you like that. It's just that..."

"I know - Brenyn."

Starbuck shook his head. "Not just Brenyn. Or even Cade. Apollo, you know I was a socialator trainee before I came to the Academy. I hated it. I only did it to protect Del." He stopped and looked around the room for a moment, as if looking for something that wasn't quite there. "You've noticed that I've never let you come *inside* me, haven't you?" At his lover's nod, he continued. "That's because... because it was never *my* choice. Do you understand?" he asked his lover earnestly. "It's hard for me, even today, even when it *is* my choice." The trembling eased as he forced his emotions back into the pit where they resided.

"How did you stay sane?"

"Are you so sure I did?" he joked, deflecting the serious question with a quip at his own expense. "Well, one of the tricks they taught us was to use a shield: someone we loved, to pretend while we were being fucked. Del was mine, of course. While I was with a client, I would imagine that it was Del with me, making love to me. Picturing that was what made it bearable for me."

"I'm sorry, Starbuck."

"It's not your fault, Apollo. I thought I had dealt with all this yahrens ago. I guess Brenyn just brought it all back again." He shuddered as he remembered being raped and whipped by his old friend's master.

"Then maybe you should go talk to a counselor."

"No!" he snapped. "I've handled it by myself this many yahrens, I can keep on doing it by myself."

"You're not by yourself anymore, Starbuck. You've got me now."

"Thanks, 'Pol," Starbuck said, hugging his lover as close to him as possible. "Just be there for me."

"Haven't I always?"

Starbuck laughed. "Yeah, I guess you have."

"Let's try to get some sleep before I have to go back on duty again. I've got four centares before I go back out on patrol."

"Sleep sounds good," Starbuck agreed, grateful for the change of subject. "How did you end up with this duty period? You're the one who makes out the schedules."

"That's how. Everybody else always complains so much I just take it myself so that's one less person I have to listen to complaining."

"Well, next time schedule me to go out with you. I won't gripe *too* loud."

"Yeah, I've heard *that* one before. Hey, don't forget that awards ceremony we have later today. It wouldn't look good if Blue Squadron didn't show up."

"Yeah? Well, I would like to know just exactly what they did that resulted in the *entire* squadron getting medals," he said, again trying to use humor to deflect his emotions.

"You know they destroyed a small Cylon outpost before the rest of us could even get there."

"Is that all? Why haven't *we* ever done anything like that, Captain?" he teased.

"Oh, go to sleep, Starbuck."

"G'night, 'Pollo."

"Good night, Starbuck."

Starbuck tried to rest, without much success. Eventually he did get some sleep, but what little he had was troubled by dreams.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////

When it was time for the awards ceremony, Starbuck let himself into Apollo's quarters silently, trying to sneak up on his lover.

"Starbuck, is that you?" Apollo called from his bedroom.

"Frak, Apollo, I must be losing my touch. I thought I was being quiet."

"You were, but I'm late so I knew you'd be coming in. I'll be ready in just a centon. There were some problems with the last patrol and I had to complete the report before coming to get dressed."

"Why do we have to wear dress uniforms for this? It's not like *we're* the ones getting any medals; just Red Squadron ."

"Military courtesy, Bucko. You wanted to be a warrior."

"Yeah, but I hate all this felgercarb. Although I have to admit I do love seeing you in *your* dress uniform. I just love watching the way your cape falls. It's distracting, though; I keep picturing you with nothing else on *but* your cape," he laughed. "Makes me want to go talk to your father."

"My father? And what would you say to him?"

"Just this - Sire Adama, I'm..."

"*Sire* Adama? Not Commander?" Apollo sounded amused.

"Nah, this is your father I'm talking to, not the commander of the Fleet."

"Okay, go on then."

"No more interruptions, now. I'd like to say, Sire Adama, I'm in love with your son, and..." He heard a small noise behind him and turned around - to face Commander Adama who had come in just in time to hear Starbuck's words. Shaken, but not willing to show it, Starbuck repeated himself solemnly, "Sire Adama, I'm in love with your son, and I want to spend the rest of my life with him."

"You sound so serious! Is that a proposal, Lieutenant?" Apollo joked.

After trying in vain to interpret the Commander's expression, Starbuck nodded. "Yes, I suppose it is," he answered more nervously than he wanted to admit.

To Starbuck's considerable relief, Adama smiled and held out his hand to take Starbuck's. He started to respond, then stopped in dismay as Apollo answered his proposal.

"I don't think I can right now, Bucko. There are a few things about your past that I can't seem to get over right now." He paused for a long moment. "Ask me again later, though."

Starbuck didn't hear Apollo's last words. Adama watched Starbuck's face fall as he heard his lover's refusal, then watched his hurried escape from the room.

"Bucko? You still there?"

"No, he left, Apollo."

"Father? When did you come in?" He came into the sitting area, looking for his lover.

"Just in time to hear you humiliate your best friend. Apollo, until now I have never had cause to be ashamed of you, but..." Adama said angrily.

"Where did he go? I have to explain..." he said, heading toward the door.

"He ran out of here after you alluded to his past."

"Oh, gods, he probably thinks I meant the socialator thing."

"And you didn't?"

"No! How could I hold that against him? He did what he had to do. I have to find him." He started toward the door.

"He has too much of a head start and we're going to be late for Red Squadron's award ceremony."

"What do I care about Red Squadron? I have to get to Starbuck."

"You will not be late to this ceremony. The Council will be livid if you're not there and I'll never hear the end of it. I will not let you compound your behavior by missing this ceremony. Now get moving. That's an order, Captain."

"Yes, sir, Commander," Apollo replied resentfully. He looked toward the door, then finished getting himself ready.

"Besides, Starbuck's supposed to be there as well. You'll see him there."

"Yes, sir."

He followed the Commander to the ceremony, his mind still consumed with worry about his friend.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Starbuck didn't go to the ceremony. He made his way to the celestial dome, setting the locks as he entered. After he opened the protective shield, he sat down abruptly, not really seeing the stars. All he saw before him was his lover's face. Apollo couldn't stand the fact that he had been a socialator. That had to be what he was talking about. His heart broke at the realization. He buried his face in his hands. No tears though, no crying, even though he was tempted. He hadn't cried since he was fourteen and he wasn't going to start now, not even for this.

He contemplated his options. Staying with the way things were now was out of the question. There was no way he could go on knowing that his best friend didn't respect him anymore. It was what he had feared for fifteen yahrens.

A transfer. That was it - he'd request a transfer to another squadron. Surely Commander Adama would understand the necessity. After all, he'd been present at Starbuck's humiliation. First thing in the morning, then. No, sooner. As soon as that blasted ceremony was over with. Before his resolve had time to crumble. Before he risked seeing Apollo again.

He had one other option just in case, one that he really didn't want to contemplate. He was trained for something else.

Starbuck sighed and finally looked up. With a start he realized where he was and couldn't stand it anymore. He had come here without thinking. This was *their* special place. He suddenly had to get out of there. Trembling, he ran from the dome and headed toward the shuttle for the Rising Star. He had some people he needed to talk to, to prepare for the worst.

//////////////////////////////////////////////

The ceremony took just under an eternity for Apollo. He'd scanned the crowd of warriors, looking for one in particular. Of course he wasn't there, so Apollo looked in vain. He'd glued a smile on his face for the ritual, and was counting the microns until he could get out of there and go talk to Starbuck.

No such luck; immediately after the ceremony, Jolly came up to Apollo, his round face nervous.

"Uh, Captain, there's been a problem. We found something we need for you to look at."

"Can't it wait, Jolly?"

"No, sir, it's pretty serious."

"All right, I'll be right there," Apollo sighed.

"Yes, sir," Jolly said, relieved.

Starbuck waited outside the doors, where he could see, but not be seen. When the Commander left, one of the last to come out, Starbuck followed him, intent on requesting a transfer. He remained just behind him until he reached the turbolift. Starbuck allowed the Commander to enter first.

"Commander, I need to speak with you for a centon." /Good. So far the voice was still steady./

"Good, Lieutenant, I'd like to speak with you as well."

/Get it over with, Bucko./ "Sir, I'd like to request a transfer to another squadron, effective immediately."

"Starbuck, I know why you're doing this, and I think you're mistaken. Apollo..."

"Sir, I can't continue to work with the Captain under these circumstances. Please, sir," Starbuck almost begged.

"Lieutenant, I understand why you're upset, but..."

"I'm not upset, Commander. I just can't continue working with a captain who doesn't respect me."

"It's not what you think, Starbuck." Adama felt like a father refereeing a dispute between two sons.

"It's what I *have* to do, Commander."

After a brief hesitation, Adama decided. "I'm afraid I have to refuse your request, Lieutenant."

Starbuck paused in dismay, then his temper got the better of him. "Then I resign, Commander. I can't do this anymore. It's about time I found out how he really felt about me."

"Resign? Where will you go?" Shock and disbelief vied for dominance in the Commander's mind.

"I *am* trained for other things, Commander. I can always find a place. Goodbye, Commander." He had to get away before he thought about what he had just done.

Starbuck pressed the signal button and the turbolift doors opened. He walked away from the turbolift, ignoring Adama's startled cry of "Starbuck, wait!"

He returned to his quarters to change clothes and pick up what few belongings he would take with him in his new life. He folded his dress uniform and packed it in the duffel where he had put the others before his meeting with the Commander, when he had been expecting to transfer. Tears threatened as he looked at the suede jacket he had worked so hard to earn. He stroked the soft material as he remembered his first meeting with Apollo, fifteen yahrens ago, when they had first entered the Academy together.

//////////////////////////////////////////////

Starbuck was nervous, away from the orphanage for the first time he could remember. He looked around him in trepidation, afraid he would get lost before he could find his new room. /Quarters; in the military it's called quarters, stupid,/ he reminded himself.

While he was looking for the right corridor, he noticed a dark-haired boy looking a little nervously at a man in a command uniform in front of him.

/Probably his father,/ Starbuck thought. Then he noticed the boy's eyes. They were an even brighter shade of green than Robardel's were. Robardel was still back at the hellhole, as Starbuck not very affectionately referred to the only home he knew. He had hated leaving Del there, but the younger boy had insisted that Starbuck take advantage of being accepted into the Colonial Academy. It had always been his dream to be a warrior and pilot and this was his only chance. So he had left his friend and lover in the care of the other socialators-in-training at the orphanage, and had gone on alone to join the cadets at the Academy.

The older man turned to look at the other boy. "Son, your quarters are down this way. Do you think you can find them on your own?"

"Yes, Father," the boy replied, sounding more confident than he looked.

"It's all right, son. And that's 'Yes, sir,' not Father. I outrank you, Cadet," he said with a smile.

"Yes, Father, I mean, sir." The boy's blush was visible despite his dark complexion.

"I'm going to visit some old friends while I'm here. I'll let you get acquainted with your new comrades. I'll meet you at 1800 for evening meal."

"Yes, Fath... yes, sir."

His father nodded approvingly. "Keep trying, Apollo. I'll see you in a few centares." He strode off in the other direction, drawing salutes and stares. Starbuck heard a few people address him as "Colonel" as he walked past.

The green-eyed boy looked lost for a moment, as nervous as Starbuck. Then he picked up his own duffel bag and started in the direction his father had pointed out to him.

Starbuck took the opportunity to "bump into" the other boy. Accidentally, of course. "Oh, I'm sorry, I must not have been watching where I was going. Uh, my name's Starbuck. I'm new here."

"I'm Apollo. I'm a new cadet, too, but I've been here before."

"This is my first time away from home. Maybe you can help me find my room, er, I mean, quarters?" /Way to make a lousy first impression, Bucky./

"Sure, let me see your assignment. It looks like you're right down the hall from me. Just follow me," the boy answered.

/To the ends of the planet,/ Starbuck replied silently. He nodded to the other boy and followed. "So what're you in for?"

"Huh?" He blushed as he realized he hadn't been paying attention.

Starbuck laughed. "What course of study?"

"I'm going to be a pilot."

"Me, too."

"Uh, where are your parents? They're allowed to stay with a new cadet until evening meal tonight, you know."

Blushing, Starbuck replied, "I haven't got any parents. I'm an orphan."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"That's okay. I don't remember them. I've been at the hellhole, I mean, the orphanage since I was about five," he said with a mischievous smile.

"Well, sometimes it can be a definite advantage not to have any parents," Apollo said, looking in the direction his father had disappeared in.

Starbuck nodded sagely, if uncomprehendingly. He looked around intentionally letting his voice sound wistful, noting the other cadets with their parents. "I guess this means I'm on my own for evening meal tonight, then."

"Um, since you don't have anybody to eat with tonight, why don't you eat with us?"

"Sure! If you're sure your father wouldn't mind?"

"No, he won't mind. He'll be glad I've met somebody to talk to already." The boy smiled shyly. "Well, here's your room, I mean, your quarters."

"It's going to take some getting used to, isn't it?"

Apollo nodded.

"Hey, where's yours?"

Apollo pointed down two doors.

"I'll see you for evening meal, then. 1800 centares? That's about six, isn't it?" Starbuck asked, unwittingly revealing that he'd been eavesdropping.

"Yeah, six." Apollo smiled, then headed to his own room.

Starbuck couldn't believe his good luck in being so close to someone so gorgeous! He entered his quarters, shaking his head.

"Hello, there," a voice called out to him.

"Uh, hi, I *am* in the right room, aren't I?"

"Yeah, I'm your roommate. Name's Boomer."

"Mine's Starbuck."

"Which bunk do you want?"

"I'll take the lower, if you don't mind."

"Sure. I'll take the upper."

At the same time both boys asked, "What're you in for?" - that being the joke for new recruits. They laughed and answered together, too. "I'm going to be a pilot."

"I think we're gonna get along just fine," Starbuck laughed.

"Where're you from?" Boomer asked.

"Caprica City. What about you?"

"Same."

"So you're not too far from home, huh?"

"If you can call it that," the other boy said sarcastically. "So, where're your folks?"

"Don't have any. I'm an orphan."

"Lucky you."

Starbuck squinted up at his new roommate. "Why do people keep saying that? What about you? Where are *your* folks?"

"My father's dead and my mother has to look after my brothers and sisters."

"Oh, sorry."

Boomer shrugged. "I'm used to it." He was grateful for the casual way the other boy accepted the fact without offering sympathy.

The two boys talked for a centar then decided to go see what they could find out about their new home. On their way out, they ran into Apollo just coming out of his room.

"Hey, Apollo, I want you to meet my roommate, Boomer."

"Uh, hi."

"Boomer, this is Apollo. Want to come with us, Apollo? We're going to take a look around."

"Thanks, but I've seen just about all there is to see already."

"Yeah, that's right. You said you'd been here before. Well, how about showing a couple of new guys around?"

"If you really want me to..."

"Hey, Starbuck, if he doesn't feel like it..." Boomer began.

"No, no, I'd be happy to show you around. Where do you want to go?"

"Everywhere," Starbuck announced to the general laughter of his companions. They started out and spent the rest of the afternoon together, exploring.

"Well, I think that's just about everything," Apollo said. He'd loosened up from his initial shyness and had enjoyed himself almost as much as Starbuck had.

Starbuck was in heaven (and half in love), spending time with his new friends, nobody knowing what he'd been forced to do back at the orphanage.

"Hey, how about a bite to eat?" Boomer asked. "I'm starving."

Starbuck and Apollo looked at each other guiltily.

"What time is it?" Apollo asked.

"Oh, about half past six. Why?"

"Frak!" Starbuck cursed.

"We were supposed to meet my father at 1800 - half a centar ago!"

"Well, I'm sure he'll understand," Boomer began.

"You don't know my father. He's a stickler for details, especially in military matters. Come on, maybe it's not too late."

The three boys ran to the mess hall. Apollo's father was standing by the door frowning deeply, two younger children by his side, a boy and a girl.

"Father, I ..." When he saw the thunderous expression on his father's face, he corrected, "Sir, I can explain..."

"No explanations, Apollo. You're late. I had planned on eating with the commander of the Academy, but I'm sure he's finished eating by now."

"Sir, I apologize for making your son late for evening meal," Starbuck began. "It's my fault. I wanted to explore the place and Apollo generously offered to show me and my roommate around. My name's Starbuck." He held out his hand in greeting.

The girl beside him laughed behind her hand.

Adama's face was unreadable for a micron, then he returned Starbuck's greeting. Turning to Apollo, he gently reprimanded him. "Son, aren't you going to introduce me to your new friends?"

Apollo blushed and made the proper introductions. "Father, you've met Starbuck. And this is Boomer, Starbuck's roommate. They live down the hall from me. Starbuck, Boomer, this is my father, Colonel Adama. And these are my sister and brother, Athena and Zac." Addressing his father again, he continued, "Since Starbuck doesn't have any parents, and Boomer's couldn't be here, I thought they might eat with us, Father... sir," he amended sheepishly.

Adama nodded his approval. "Excellent idea."

They ate quickly and quietly, the three boys starving as only teenage boys could be and intimidated by the commander's presence. When they finished, Adama walked with them back to their respective quarters, telling his other children to wait for him.

As Starbuck and Boomer stopped at the door to their room, Apollo shot Starbuck a glance that plainly said "Help." Starbuck sensed there was something wrong with his new friend, but didn't know what to say or do.

"Good night, boys. It was a pleasure meeting you. I'm sure I'll be seeing much more of you over the course of your studies," Adama said as they opened the door.

"Er, would you like to come in for a moment, sir?" Starbuck asked, looking instead at Apollo, his head cocked inquisitively.

"No, thank you, Cadet. I think I'll just see Apollo to his quarters and then I'll have to leave. It's after evening meal; time for all parents to leave." Apollo looked hopeful, but his hopes were dashed when his father continued, "Being a warrior myself, though, I do get to bend the rules somewhat. So I don't think I'll get into too much trouble for staying a few extra centons."

Adama and Apollo resumed their walk to Apollo's quarters. When they reached the door, Apollo opened it and entered, expecting a lecture on promptness. He was surprised when his father instead gave him a hug and said, "I'm glad you seem to be making friends, Son. I was worried about your not fitting in here because you're *my* son. Keep it up, Apollo. I'll see you when the term breaks for holiday." With another squeeze, he left his astonished son alone in his room.

After Apollo and Adama left them, Starbuck started a letter to Robardel. He told his friend about Boomer and briefly mentioned Apollo. He agonized over how much to tell Del and settled for just mentioning his new neighbor. He still loved Del, and didn't want to hurt him by letting him know he had a rival. He sent several letters over the course of the term and, in the beginning, received letters back. Then the return letters stopped. Starbuck kept writing until his letters started coming back unopened. He wrote to his friend Darach in the infirmary, but Darach knew nothing beyond the fact that Robardel had left the orphanage. Starbuck felt almost relieved for a moment after reading Darach's letter, relieved that Del was "out of the way," then immediately felt guilty for his relief. His friend, his lover had disappeared Lord knew where and he was relieved. It wasn't likely that Del had been adopted, after all, not at his age, and considering just how many orphans there were. Starbuck had an uncomfortable feeling about his disappearance. He made a few more half-hearted attempts to find his old friend, but they led nowhere. He finally gave up, arguing to himself that there was no way he could do any more. He was more than a little infatuated with Apollo as well, so that made Del seem somehow less real to Starbuck.

The three boys had many classes together and spent most of their free time outside class together, as well. Before the first sectar was out, it was no longer Starbuck, Apollo and Boomer, but rather, Bucko, 'Pollo and Boom-boom. They hit it off amazingly well, especially considering Apollo's shyness.

That first term had been rough on all of them. The upperclassmen were basically allowed to torture the newest cadets, in an attempt to wash them out. They were especially rough on Apollo once they discovered who his father was.

"Oh, it's the Colonel's little son and his little friends," the older cadets jeered whenever they came near. "Expecting special treatment, little boy?"

Starbuck soon learned that his quiet, shy new friend had a very bad temper. They ended up in several fights over the term, earning Apollo visits from his mother, and Starbuck visits from the orphanage director. These they tolerated as best they could. Starbuck learned very quickly how to say what the director wanted to hear. The first time he had been called to the Academy, the director had threatened to remove Starbuck from the roll of cadets. Starbuck had placated the man by promising that he would do his best to avoid the cadets in question the very best he could. The man had been fooled that time and every time he was called in.

Boomer also learned what it meant when Apollo's eyes started glowing like emerald fire. His mother was called in on several occasions, as well. He didn't handle these events as well as his friends did, so he learned to avoid the fights to the best of his abilities. When he did get caught, Starbuck always made him look like he had been hurt, using extra dirt and bandages, making his mother feel sorry for him instead of angry. Starbuck began to understand why his friends had thought it might be a good thing not to have parents. It was much easier on him fooling the director of the orphanage than it was for either Apollo or Boomer with their respective parents.

//////////////////////////////////////////////

Starbuck shook himself as he came out of his reverie. These memories were dangerous. If he kept remembering how good it had been with Apollo and Boomer all these yahrens, he might not be able to keep his resolve to leave. He looked at his formal letter of resignation and wanted to destroy it on the spot. He put it in his pocket instead, planning to drop it off with the Commander on his way to the shuttle. He took the small duffel with his personal things and headed out. Before reaching the door, though, he turned back and reopened the duffel holding his uniforms. He unfastened the Galactica insignia from the collar of one uniform and placed it carefully in his pocket. Then, before he could change his mind, he re-closed the duffel and almost ran out of the room.

He caught the shuttle just as it was getting ready to leave for the Rising Star. Since he was the last person to enter, he didn't get a choice of seats. Somehow he ended up in a seat which gave him a perfect view of the Galactica. He couldn't tear his eyes away from it as the shuttle flew toward his new home. He fingered the small pin in his pocket.

After so many yahrens, he had trouble imagining what life would be like without either Apollo or Boomer. /Good old Boom-boom,/ Starbuck thought fondly. He remembered the first time he had conned Boomer into doing his homework for him so he could go out with a particularly lovely female cadet. It had taken much more effort to get Boomer to do his work than it had to get Apollo started writing papers for him. Boomer was much less credulous and trusting than Apollo had been. It was the same with borrowing money after Starbuck discovered Pyramid. Apollo was always ready to stake Starbuck in a game or two, despite the fact that he lost much of the time.

Starbuck first discovered the game during the break between terms, when the rest of the cadets went home to their families. Since he hated the orphanage and Robardel was no longer there, he stayed at the Academy, working as a gardener. It was hard work and he was the youngest one there, but he enjoyed working with the older men. At night, they all played Pyramid, a card game Starbuck had never heard of before. They taught him, expecting to fleece him like the innocent he appeared to be, but he caught on quickly and ended up earning a few extra cubits for himself. They also helped him practice Triad, a sport that he had discovered Apollo loved.

The first time he watched Apollo play, he had ended up with a raging hard-on just from watching his friend move in the skimpy uniform. Since Starbuck had never played, he wasn't able to play with Apollo and Boomer, but he never missed one of their matches. He was determined that he *would* learn the game and be able to play it with them. During his first term, he practiced every chance he got, frequently even before classes started in the morning.

Many of the gardeners were too old to help him with Triad, but there were a few who were just out of school themselves and sympathetic to the boy's wishes to learn the game. It was all the rage at the time and all the young people seemed to be playing. They played almost every night after evening meal, before the rounds of Pyramid.

Starbuck finally began putting some weight on his thin frame, the constant exercise and better food making a considerable difference in him. He also grew taller, so that he was just slightly taller than Apollo when the latter returned to the Academy.

When they returned for the second term, Boomer and Apollo almost didn't recognize their friend, he had changed so much.

"Hey, Boom-boom! Good to see you!"

"Hey, yourself. Bucko?"

"Yeah, what, you thought I'd wash out already?"

"You just... look different, that's all."

"I stayed here over the break and worked. Got a nice tan, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you sure did. Great. I suppose this means more girls, huh?" Despite Starbuck's near obsession with Apollo, he had not lacked for a social life during his first term as a cadet.

"Well, when you got it, you got it," Starbuck laughed. All he really wanted was Apollo. He hadn't seen his friend yet and was anxiously awaiting his arrival.

"Boomer!"

Starbuck's head snapped up as he heard Apollo's voice. "'Pollo! Good to see you! How was your break?"

"Great. Starbuck?"

"Not you, too! Boomer didn't recognize me either."

"Well, you've put on some weight since the end of last term, Starbuck."

"So now I'm fat, am I?"

"No, no, not fat. It looks more like muscle."

"Well, I did spend the break working and playing Triad."

"Triad? Great! Ready for a game?"

"Any time, 'Pollo. Right now?"

"Give me a chance to get settled first."

"Well, hurry up, will you?"

"Anxious, aren't we, Bucko?" Boomer asked after Apollo had returned to his own room.

"It's been a long break, Boom-boom. How was yours, by the way?"

"Boring. I'm almost glad to be back."

"Almost? Are you kidding? You mean you didn't miss me?"

"Did I miss you getting me in trouble? Did I miss doing your homework? Are *you* kidding?"

"Aw, I didn't get you in *that* much trouble."

"No comment about the homework, I notice."

"Well, Boom-boom, it's not like you did *all* my homework, you know," he stopped as they heard someone at the door. "Who is it?"

The door burst open to reveal Apollo already in Triad uniform. "I'm settled in. Ready?"

"Willing and able," Starbuck announced, heading to get his own clothes. "That was quick, 'Pollo. What'd you do, just throw your stuff down and change clothes?"

"Pretty much. I haven't had much of a chance to play over the break. We need another team, though."

Starbuck grinned at his roommate. "Up for a game of Triad, Boom-boom?"

"Only if you can't find anybody else."

"Great, then we only need one more person," Starbuck said enthusiastically.

"Hey, I didn't say..."

"I know, buddy, you're great to agree to play at the last centon like this."

Apollo shrugged his shoulders when Boomer looked a question at him. "Don't bother to try and stop him when he's like this, Boomer. You ought to know better by now."

"Yeah, I guess I oughtta," he said, shaking his head. "I gotta get my head examined for agreeing to room with him again this term."

"That's true. I would have thought you'd have learned last term," Apollo agreed. "Good thing is, we can probably still beat the frak out of him."

"Hey, why don't you make it more of a challenge and take *me* as your partner, 'Pollo?" Starbuck called from the cupboard where his clothes were already stored.

"That *would* be a challenge," Boomer joked, "considering you never played before last term."

Keeping his fingers crossed Starbuck continued, "I've been playing every day over the break. I found a few people to practice with so I stayed here instead of going back to the hellhole over the break. Of course, if you're afraid…"

"Are you trying to dare me, Bucko?" Apollo asked, peeking around the corner of the cupboard.

"Who, me?" he asked innocently.

"All right, then. I accept your challenge. We're a team. For today."

Boomer laughed. "Why do I get the feeling I'm going to need a new Triad partner?"

"Boom-boom, I'm wounded that you'd think I'd steal *your* partner." Starbuck managed to keep from giggling hysterically.

"Uh-huh, buddy. I can see how wounded."

"Who knows? If it works out, maybe we can alternate partners."

"I never knew I was so much in demand," Apollo joked.

"You've been around him too long," Boomer teased back, pointing over to Starbuck.

"Who, me?" Starbuck asked again, reappearing with his Triad gear ready.

//////////////////////////////////////////////

Starbuck and Apollo beat Boomer and another cadet who they found in the gym. For the rest of the term, they alternated partners, as Starbuck had jokingly suggested. Boomer, getting the unspoken message from his roommate, finally found another partner, leaving Apollo free to stay Starbuck's teammate. Apollo and Starbuck ended up remaining partners for the rest of their career at the Academy, and thereafter. They played together so much and so well that it seemed they could read each other's minds.

The shuttle landed smoothly on the Rising Star. Starbuck rose, his duffel bag in hand and exited. He avoided all the warriors' usual hangouts and went to a small, nearly deserted bar well away from the main attractions. He sat down at the end of the bar and ordered a glass of ambrosa.

He leaned back against the wall, looking for someone. He waited patiently until he saw a man enter who fit the description he had been given. Leaning over the bar, he motioned for the barman.

"Yeah? Need another?"

"Not yet, thanks. Who is that who just came in? That guy over there?"

"Him? Who wants to know?" the barman asked suspiciously.

"Just a friend. A potential client?" Starbuck offered him a conspiratorial smile and a couple of cubits.

Pocketing the cubits quickly, he answered, "Name's Idris. He looks after a bunch of socialators here on the Rising Star."

"That's the one I'm looking for. Thanks." He rose from his seat and headed toward the man in question. "Idris?"

An older man walked in as they were speaking and looked at Starbuck closely as he spoke with Idris.

"Who wants to know?"

"Can't you people be a little more original? That's what *he* said." Starbuck cocked a thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of the bar. "My name's Star...er, Bucky. I'm looking for a job."

"Job? What kind of job?"

"I'm a trained socialator." /More or less,/ he thought to himself.

"Trained where?"

"Caprica City. At the orphanage."

"Got any proof?"

"What proof? You want references?"

"You got any?"

"You know Cade? Danar? Robardel?"

"No, no, and no. No, wait a micron. I remember a socialator on Caprica named Danar. Big guy, great body. Got himself killed in the Cylon attack, though."

"Really?" Starbuck felt a momentary grief for his old friend. "He helped train me."

"Got anybody else?"

"What do you want, satisfied customers?" he asked, exasperated.

"Okay."

"I don't know where any of them are. Frak, I haven't even seen them in yahrens!"

"I can't take in just anybody, you know. I run a high class operation here."

"So I see," Starbuck said, looking around with a raised eyebrow.

"This isn't mine. This is just where some of the boys hang out."

"Uh-huh. Well, if you're not interested..." He made as if to leave.

"Now, I didn't say I wasn't interested. I just need proof of some kind."

"Uh-huh. What kind of *proof* are you talking about? There's only been one person I couldn't satisfy."

"Either find somebody who knows you and who *I* can trust, or..."

"Or?"

"Or you can prove it to me by seducing me."

"I think I'll take my chances somewhere else. You were recommended to me, but so were others."

"Where'd you get my name?"

"My sources prefer to remain, ahem, confidential."

"Bucky?" the man at the bar asked.

Starbuck's head turned. He stared at the man for a centon before something clicked in his mind. "Sire Doran? Is that you?"

He rose from the bar and joined the other two men at their table. "Bucky, I almost didn't recognize you. You've filled out a lot since the orphanage. I figured you'd been killed in the holocaust. Where've you been all these yahrens?"

"I got away from the orphanage for a while. Idris, you wanted satisfied customers? Sire Doran was one of my regulars at the orphanage. You know him?"

"Yeah, I know him. He's a regular here, too. You vouch for this guy, Doran?"

"Vouch for what?" he asked suspiciously.

"He an orphanage-trained socialator or not?" Idris growled.

"Oh, yes, he is. Is he going to be one of yours?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe? You got your witness. I don't have time for this. See you later, Idris. Like I said, there are others I can go to." He got up from the table and started moving toward the door.

Idris watched him walk away for a moment.

"He's really good, Idris," Doran observed.

Idris nodded and enjoyed his view of Starbuck's posterior. "Come back here, Bucky."

Starbuck turned. "Only if you're willing to talk seriously."

"We'll talk."

The former warrior returned to the table and sat down gracefully.

//////////////////////////////////////////////

At the end of a centar, the two men had reached a tentative agreement. To seal the agreement, however, Starbuck had to sleep with Idris.

Since Starbuck didn't have a place to stay yet, Idris allowed him to use his own rooms to get ready. Starbuck was nervous, since he hadn't done this in almost fifteen yahrens, but determined not to show it. After showering, preparing himself, and dressing, he entered the bar with assumed confidence. He greeted Sire Doran with a radiant, but completely spurious smile.

Idris nodded his appreciation.

"Glad you approve."

"You have beautiful eyes, Bucky. Is that really your name?"

"Thank you. It's what people used to call me."

"Used to call you? What do they call you now?"

"Same thing, I guess."

"Lovely shade of blue. I think, if you do come to work for me, that you should wear that shade of blue as your hallmark."

"My what?"

"Each of my socialators has his own hallmark, something peculiar to him to make him stand out in a crowd. That would be my recommendation for you."

"Thank you, I think. Well, shall we get this over with?"

"Oh, come now. It's not just about sex, Bucky. It's about satisfying the customer. Giving him what he wants."

"And what he wants is sex, right?"

"Yeah, but I want to put you through your paces tonight, see what all you can do."

"A challenge, hmm? Okay, I can do that. There's only one person I haven't been able to satisfy." He smiled, looking directly in Idris' eyes. "You know, you have lovely eyes yourself."

"Unoriginal," Idris commented dryly.

"But true. As the poet said, though, 'The rose is a rose, and was always a rose, But the theory now goes That the apple's a rose, and the pear is, and so's The plum, I suppose. The dear only knows what next will prove a rose. You, of course, are a rose, but were always a rose.'"

"Better, better. What next?"

"What would please *you ,* Idris? After all, I *am* here to please you."

"My socialators pride themselves on being able to divine what their customers want."

"I would have thought that you have a need to be in control, thus, allowing you to make the decisions is what would make you happy."

"Not bad, considering you just made that up on the spur of the moment."

"Who says?" Starbuck smiled slyly at the man. He slid his chair closer to Idris' and put a gentle hand on his thigh.

"Did I give you permission to do that?"

"If you don't it's going to be a long night." He removed his hand and continued, "Then maybe I shouldn't. I take it that 'a long night' is exactly what you want."

"Better. But I'm still not convinced."

Starbuck rose and held out a hand. "Then let's go somewhere I can convince you."

Idris took the proffered hand and stood up. "All right, let's see if the action lives up to the talk. You talk a good game..."

"Now I'll prove it. There's only one person I've never been able to satisfy."

"So you've said. Show me."

"Lead the way," Starbuck said with a sultry smile. He turned that smile on several of the men in the bar and was rewarded by lustful glances that were not lost on Idris.

//////////////////////////////////////////////

When Apollo finished with the problem that Jolly had mentioned, the first thing he did was go to Starbuck's quarters to clear things up with him. When he got there and there was no answer, he tried the door. It opened freely and he entered. The place was deserted. Starbuck had never had much in the way of decor, but now the place was empty. Except for a duffel bag. He opened it and looked in, finding Starbuck's uniforms.

"Frak! What's happened?" He ran out into the corridor and headed for the bridge. With the single-mindedness that was such a part of his personality, he made it there in record time, only to find that his father wasn't there.

"No, Apollo, he should be in his quarters. He said he didn't feel well, but..." Tigh started.

"Thanks, Colonel." He ran from the bridge, leaving confusion and concern in his wake.

Upon reaching his father's quarters, he didn't bother with the chime, he just keyed in the code that would open the door and entered.

"Father? Where is he? What happened?" Apollo stopped as he saw his father's face. "What's the matter? Tigh said you didn't feel well."

The Commander looked shaken. "He's gone, Apollo. He resigned." For once he refused to meet Apollo's eyes.

"What? Resigned? Starbuck? Never! Being a warrior, being a *pilot* is all he's ever wanted. Why would he resign?"

"He asked me for a transfer to another squadron. When I refused his request, he resigned. I didn't get a chance to explain..." Adama felt like he'd lost another son.

"Resigned?" Apollo repeated as if he were in shock. "I just came from his quarters. There's nothing there but a bag with his uniforms in it. Where would he go?"

"Shuttle records indicate that he took a shuttle to the Rising Star. I'm sorry, son. He did say that there was something else he was trained to do."

"Trained to... I have to find him. I have to explain before he makes a huge mistake."

"He's already made it, son. Here's his formal letter of resignation." Adama held it up. Apollo jerked it out of his father's hands.

"I'm sorry, son. He's gone."

"I have to find him." He started for the door. "Rising Star? Father, he's going to go back to being a socialator."

Adama nodded. "Yes, that must be what he meant."

"I can't let him do that."

Apollo caught the shuttle over to the Rising Star, but had no luck finding Starbuck. He looked in all their usual hangouts, knowing all the while that his friend would avoid them. He had hoped that *somebody* might have seen him, but no one had. Starbuck had successfully avoided all eyes that might have known him. Apollo returned to the Galactica with a heavy heart.

//////////////////////////////////////////////

Starbuck nervously followed Idris to his rooms. He felt the tension begin to build, just as it always had. He forced it back down again.

Once in the bedroom, Idris stroked Starbuck's hair gently. Starbuck leaned into the caress, smiling. Idris pulled him in suddenly for a kiss. Starbuck let his hands roam over Idris as they kissed. The older man's hands moved to the fastenings on Starbuck's pants, unhooking them with skilled fingers. Starbuck helped, wriggling his hips to drop them to the floor. He sat down and tugged off his boots, then stripped his pants off the rest of the way and pulled his tunic over his head.

Idris watched appreciatively as his new socialator stood naked before him. His own cock twitched when he noticed the erection bobbing just below the blond's waist. He smiled and pulled the other man closer to him for another kiss. Starbuck was just submissive enough to arouse the man, but also exuded a strong male presence that let Idris know the only reason *he* was in charge was because Starbuck *let* him be in charge. His hands reached down for the erection and stroked it roughly. Starbuck moaned and reached for the fastenings on Idris' pants. Idris stepped back so that Starbuck could strip him.

Starbuck's nervousness increased, but he was determined not to show it. He kept repeating to himself that it would all be over soon, just as he had as a child. He visualized himself with Apollo, touching Apollo and not the stranger in front of him.

Idris guided him over to the bed and pushed him down on it. Starbuck smiled seductively and pulled Idris toward him.

Idris kept Starbuck the entire night, arguing that his new employee didn't have anywhere else to go. While agreeing, Starbuck really wanted some time alone, to get accustomed to what his new life would be. He stayed reluctantly and satisfied Idris' curiosity - and desires - over and over again. He thought the night would never end.

It did end, finally. In the morning, they rose and Idris assigned Starbuck a suite of rooms. Starbuck was astonished at the luxurious quarters and said as much to his new employer.

"Oh, this is nothing. You're going to be quite successful at this and we want to make a good impression on the customers, don't we? We'd have our work cut out for us if we didn't start with the best," Idris answered.

"Oh, yes, *we* certainly would," Starbuck answered sarcastically.

"I'll send up someone to take your measurements. You may choose your clothes pretty much for yourself, but remember, your working clothes are white - with blue trim, I think. Yes, that should be your hallmark."

"Why white?"

"All my socialators wear white while they're on duty. It's a sort of a code down here. Didn't they have something like that at the orphanage?" he asked innocently, still testing Starbuck's knowledge of the orphanage training procedure.

"Only if you consider a cock ring as a code. That's generally all we wore when we had, er, visitors."

Idris nodded. Right answer. Either this man had been trained at the orphanage, or he had been a customer. And he looked too young to have been a regular customer before the destruction.

//////////////////////////////////////////////

Starbuck started a few nights later. Sire Doran was there, overjoyed to see the handsome young man. He was Starbuck's first customer, paying the required money to Idris, then following the blond to his quarters.

They stayed up in his rooms for over a centar after Doran had fucked Starbuck, talking. Starbuck naturally didn't tell Doran much about his own life, preferring to keep it as quiet as possible. He had chosen Idris because this bar was almost never frequented by warriors. If it hadn't been for his contacts, he wouldn't have found it himself. Doran seemed satisfied at the half answers Starbuck gave him. Before he left, he patted the young man on the head and left him a large tip.

He ended up bedding two other men that night. Idris propositioned him as well, but Starbuck pleaded fatigue.

"It's been a long time since I've done this, Idris. I don't think I'm up to the challenge just yet."

He looked at the worn out young man for a moment. "Your shield is a damn fool, Bucky."

Blue eyes flickered in sudden hostility. "Don't you worry about my shield, Idris. He has more sense than you know."

"Hey, hey, easy. I didn't mean to insult you... or him."

"That topic is off limits, Idris. Understand?" The threat in Starbuck's voice left no room for doubt in the matter.

"Okay, okay." But the man was intrigued. He made discreet inquiries, through one of his agents on the ship.

A few days later, he had a partial answer. "Your 'Bucky' is none other than the former Lieutenant Starbuck."

"What?"

"You heard me. Scuttlebutt aboard the Galactica is that he had some kind of disagreement with his captain and the Commander and resigned."

"See what else you can find out for me."

"It'll take some more cash," the man answered, holding out his hand.

"You'll get paid when you fulfill my request. I pay you well enough to know you're not hurting for cubits. Use your own instead of mine, for a change."

"It may take longer that way."

"Won't hurt anything. This makes things a little more interesting, doesn't it? I wonder what he's hiding from?"

Starbuck was a success as a socialator. Within a few sectons, he was one of Idris' most popular, much in demand by the customers. Then, inevitably, it happened; someone recognized him.

One of Sire Brenyn's men saw him. Soon after, Brenyn himself showed up at the bar.

"Well, well, well, Lieutenant - oh I'm sorry, I forgot: you're no longer a lieutenant. And you no longer have your friends to protect you. Too bad."

"Brenyn, I would suggest you leave this bar and not return," Starbuck warned.

"Oh, now why would I want to do that?"

"I *do* have protection." He raised his hand in a practiced gesture which was immediately answered by a pair of large men hired to protect Idris' socialators. "Boys, this is Sire Brenyn. He's bothering me. Brenyn, meet my new friends." He rose from the table and walked over to another one where one of his regulars sat.

The other men at the table were playing Pyramid. Starbuck looked on wistfully, remembering how many times Apollo had staked him for a game. When one of the men invited him to play, he joined them gladly, using the game to forget about his meeting with Brenyn.

The game lasted well into the early morning hours, leaving Starbuck with a mound of cubits in front of him. Idris greeted him angrily as the last of the men left.

"Just exactly what did you think you were doing, Bucky?"

"They invited me to play, so I played. I can't help it if they weren't very good players," he shrugged.

"I don't care if they were beginners; if you're going to play, let them win!"

"I disagree. It would be condescending of me to even consider losing on purpose. It's more of a challenge for them to try and beat me."

"And just how am I supposed to make any profit if you're sitting on your most valuable asset all night?"

"Make them pay to play. It wouldn't be every night; even I can't play Pyramid *every* night. Make it just one or two nights a secton. It could be a huge draw. Think of how many drinks you could sell."

"What makes you think I would get profits from that? I told you before that I didn't own this place."

"I've seen you take money from the till. There's no way any good barman would let that happen unless you were the owner."

"You're very observant, *Lieutenant *," Idris growled.

"And apparently you're very inquisitive. May I ask how you found out?" he asked, taking a sip of ambrosa, covering his dismay with a layer of apparent disinterest.

"I have friends who know how to make discreet inquiries."

"I hope they *were* discreet. It would be a shame if I had to leave your employ because my former friends came in here and chased away your *other* customers."

"They're discreet enough, *Bucky *. In turn, I hope you're content to be here. It would be a shame if I had to spread the word that the famous Lieutenant Starbuck is a cheap whore."

Starbuck shook his head. "I am *not* cheap," he laughed. He rose from the table, scooped up his winnings, and headed for his rooms. "Think about it, Idris... I could earn you some *real* money."

//////////////////////////////////////////////

After one person recognized him, naturally there were others. Starbuck looked up to find Robardel coming toward him in his hoverchair early one evening.

"Del? Baby, what are you doing here?"

"I heard you were here, Bucky. I couldn't believe that you were a... that you were doing this." He sounded horrified.

"It's what I was trained for, after all."

"But you were a pilot! That was what you always wanted!"

"Some people just aren't meant to have everything they want, Baby. It's my fate never to have what I most desire."

"What happened, Bucky? What about Apol...?"

"Not here, Del. Come with me. You got any money?"

"Yeah, Geila pays me a generous salary. Why?"

"Pay that man over there and come with me. We'll continue this in private."

Robardel followed along behind Starbuck in his hoverchair. "Hey, slow down, Bucky, this thing's not built for racing, you know."

"Sorry, Del. I forgot. Here are my rooms. Come on in," he said, opening the door for him.

"Wow, this is nice, Bucky. This is where you live now?"

"A little bit nicer than my old quarters on the Galactica, isn't it?"

"I'll say! But, Bucky, how can you do this? You always hated being a socialator."

"Still do, but it's the only other thing I know how to do."

"I heard that you resigned, but I couldn't believe it. Ever since I met you, all you've wanted was to be a pilot. Now I find you here, dressed like *that* and..."

"I thought this outfit was rather becoming," Starbuck pouted.

"It looks great on you, Bucky, but you look like a whore."

"I am a whore, Baby. That's what you just paid for, you know."

Robardel shook his head. "You can't do this, Bucky. Think about Apollo."

"Watch me, Robardel. I've been here for over a sectar now. I'm one of Idris' most popular whores already. And I get to play Pyramid two nights a secton."

"Think about Apol..."

"No! I'd rather not, thank you. He's the reason I'm here. He couldn't handle the fact that I had been a socialator. I actually proposed to him, and he turned me down. In front of the Commander. I asked the Commander for a transfer, but he turned me down, too. So I resigned. At least now I know how they feel about me. My feelings aren't important to them." He shrugged. "I'm better off here. Here I'm not under the illusion that anybody gives a frak about me."

"Ah, Bucky, I'm so sorry! I must say, though, it doesn't sound much like Apollo..."

"What do you know about him? I've practically lived with him for fifteen yahrens. It didn't surprise me that much. I know how he feels about a lot of things."

"I don't see how he could hold what happened at the orphanage against you. You only did it to protect me."

"Yeah, well he doesn't see it that way, obviously. I'm better off here."

"No, you're not. I know - I could get Geila to offer you a job..."

"Doing what? Listen, Baby, I appreciate the thought, but what would I be able to do for her? I'm trained to fly and I'm trained to give pleasure. She's an attractive woman, but I don't think she needs her own personal ..."

"Don't talk about her that way, Bucky. She's been very good to me. I still want to know why you resigned and left Apollo."

"I already told you, Del. He doesn't have any respect for me anymore - if he ever did." He shrugged again. "Well, it's over now. You won't desert me, will you, Baby? Now that you've found me?"

"How can you even ask the question? After all you did for me? I'm insulted."

"Sorry, Del. It's just that I don't seem to know anybody anymore. It's been a long sectar."

Robardel looked sadly at his friend. "I am sorry, Bucky. I wish there was something I could do to help."

"Just be there for..." He stopped as he remembered Apollo making that same promise. "Oh, Baby, I miss him so much. Even after all these yahrens, even after it was destroyed, that hellhole is still making my life miserable."

Robardel held out his arms. Starbuck picked him up gently and set him down on the bed. They held each other for several centons, until they both fell asleep.

A chime at the door awakened both of them.

"What? Who is it?" Starbuck called out drowsily.

"Time," Idris' voice came through the door.

"Oh, frak. What time is it?" Robardel asked as the door opened.

"You've been in here for two centares."

"Geila's going to be worried silly! I told her I'd be back in a centar. I've got to go, Bucky."

"But you'll be back, won't you?"

"When I can afford it. You're not inexpensive, you know, Bucky." At his old friend's anxious look, he continued, "Of course I'll be back, Bucky. You can trust me."

"Thanks, Baby." He kissed Robardel, a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"That your shield?" Idris asked as they watched Robardel's hoverchair move down the corridor.

"Once. Not anymore. Besides, the question of my shield is off limits, remember?"

"Freshen up and come back down to the bar. There are other customers waiting, *Lieutenant *."

"Just give me a centon, Idris."

"I'll give you five; I'm feeling generous tonight. And, Bucky, save some energy for me tonight."

"Sure, Idris," Starbuck sighed.

//////////////////////////////////////////////

Robardel kept his promise to visit Starbuck whenever he could, sometimes with Geila joining them. The two old friends took great pleasure in each other's company, renewing their closeness, but not the physical relationship. Robardel knew that Starbuck still loved Apollo and was determined to help them in some way.

With the passage of time, Starbuck started to see some improvement in Robardel's condition. The first sign was the ability to move his right foot.

"Bucky! Bucky, you have to see this! I moved my foot!"

"What?" Starbuck asked sleepily (last night had been a late one).

"Look! I can move my foot!"

"That's great, Baby! When did this happen?"

"This morning. Geila says it's a good sign. She gave me the morning off to come see you. I have to go back this afternoon to show the children. They really have helped me, just like she said they would."

"How shall we celebrate?"

"You look like you could use some sleep, Bucky."

"Is that a polite way of telling me I look like hell?"

Robardel laughed. "No, you're still as beautiful as ever to me. Thank you, Bucky."

"For what?"

"For setting me free so I could find Geila. She's wonderful! It's almost like having a mother. At least, I'd guess that's what it would be like. I don't remember my mother. She died when I was very young."

"I didn't really do anything, Del."

"If it wasn't for you, I'd still be a slave...or dead. He would have killed me, you know."

"That's one of the reasons I wanted to get you away from him."

"Have you seen him since...?"

"Just once. He came into the bar. When Idris' guys saw that he was bothering me, they, er, escorted him out. Haven't seen him since then, though. Why?"

"Just curious. He's not the type to let you get away with what you did. You need to watch out for him. He can be subtle."

"Like he was with Cassie? Yeah, I know. I should be safe from him with Idris, though. He looks after his stable."

"I wish you'd stop talking about it that way, Bucky. Sounds, I don't know, dirty like that."

"Simple truth, Baby. I sleep with whoever pays for me. It *is* dirty. We're not *socialators.* Oh, they call us that, but, in reality, we're just whores. Socialators have some class. We don't."

"Stop talking like that, Bucky."

Starbuck shrugged his shoulders, then winced as a muscle in his neck knotted up.

"What's the matter?"

"Just a kink in my neck," he said, rubbing it gingerly.

"Move down here so I can rub it for you."

"Thanks. Mmm...feels good."

"You're tight as a tourniquet, Bucky! What did you do last night?"

"Don't ask. You don't want to know. Suffice to say, it was a long night."

Robardel ended up massaging Starbuck's whole back, leaving the blond ex-warrior purring with contentment.

"You're such a sucker for back rubs, Bucky. Are you still as bad about head rubs?"

"Worse. I haven't had one in so long I'd almost forgotten."

"Here, let me remind you."

"Baby, I don't think it's such a good idea," he said, pulling Del's hands away from the blond hair.

"Sorry. I guess I'm not your shield anymore, huh?"

"No."

"Let me talk to him, explain things. I could make him listen, I know I could."

"Baby, when he sets his mind, that man is more stubborn than *I* am."

"That's not possible, Bucky."

"Trust me. I've known him a long time."

"And I've known you a long time, Bucky. You're miserable here. Go back home."

"This *is* home, Robardel. There's nothing for me to go back to. They don't need me. They don't even respect me. That much was clear from the Commander's refusal to give me the transfer I asked for."

"Did you ever stop to think that maybe Commander Adama knew something you didn't know? Or that maybe Apollo meant something else when he turned down your proposal? No, of course not. You acted without really thinking, as usual."

"Robardel - oh, I can't explain it to you. I just *knew,* that's all."

Del shook his head. "Come on, let's go get something to eat - my treat."

"Sure, let me get dressed."

"Bucky, this has got to stop. I know you - you're miserable doing this. You hated it when we were kids and that hasn't changed. Let me talk to Geila..."

"No, Baby. I made this decision and I can live with it. Let me get dressed and we'll go eat. I know this great little place where..."

"Where no warriors ever go, right?"

Starbuck blushed. "Come to think of it, I've never seen any warriors in there, no."

"They're your friends, Bucky. Don't you think they deserve to know where you are?"

"They'd tell *him* and, besides, I couldn't bear for anybody else to know."

//////////////////////////////////////////////

It was just a matter of time before Brenyn tried something. Starbuck knew it and was prepared for it. Until it actually happened. Brenyn's men came one night while he was eating evening meal with Robardel. When the younger man left the table briefly to go to the turboflush, they just walked up behind him and took control of his hoverchair. Starbuck grew worried at his protracted absence and followed his friend. Brenyn's men had left him a note telling him to follow the two men sitting at the table next to the turboflush door.

He gave himself a moment to calm down, outwardly at least, and followed the instructions. The two men at the table smirked as they watched him approach. They rose without saying a word and headed for the door.

Starbuck followed them, first settling the bill.

"I trust nothing was wrong with the food or the service?" the waiter asked with a smile.

"No, no, my friend just wasn't feeling well and thought he should head back home. He didn't want to interrupt my meal, but I'm a little worried about him. Thanks," he said, adding a generous tip to the pile of cubits on the tray.

"Thank you, sir."

Starbuck exited the restaurant. Looking frantically from side to side, he finally spotted the two men waiting for him. They resumed walking and he followed.

They led him to a small room near the engine room, well away from the populated areas. He entered the room and found Robardel tied naked to a bed.

"Del! Baby, are you all right?"

"Bucky, get out! It's a trap!"

"Too late, little slave. Welcome, Lieutenant. Oh, I keep forgetting you're not a lieutenant anymore. No matter. I suppose I could just call you 'whore,' but that does sound a bit cold, doesn't it?" Brenyn sneered.

"Just let Del go, Brenyn. It's me you want."

"What conceit! No, I want both of you, whore. You both hurt me..."

"Hurt you? Look what you did to Del! He can't even walk because of you. Now let him go! Haven't you done enough to him?"

"Obviously not, whore. That's why he's here as well as you. I knew he would still be your weak point. You're very easy to control, whore."

"Get rid of your friends here, and see just *how* easy I am to control," he snarled.

"Is that a proposition, whore? I've already had a taste of your ass, whore. It was very pleasant. I may try you again."

"Not in this lifetime, Brenyn."

"*Sire* Brenyn, to you, whore. Didn't they teach you better manners than that at the orphanage?"

"My respect has to be earned, Brenyn."

"Like your Captain Apollo's, whore?"

The barb found its mark. Starbuck lunged for him, but found himself grabbed by the two thugs who had kidnapped Robardel.

"Don't like that, do you? Your lover's lost all respect for you because you're a whore."

"Leave Apollo out of this, Brenyn."

"Still sensitive, hmm? I thought you might be. I had to be sure, though. All right, boys, have your fun."

The men beat Starbuck until he passed out, then continued until Brenyn told them to stop. He sat on the bed next to the terrified Robardel and made sure he watched as his friend was beaten.

"Keep your eyes open, little slave. Watch as your friend suffers. If you close your eyes, I promise that it will be worse for him. Every time you close your eyes, it will add another five centons onto his beating. Do you understand, little slave?"

"I'm not your slave anymore. I'm a free man."

"Yes, of course, you're free. And I'm free - free to kill both you and your friend."

"No! Bucky!"

When Brenyn finally ordered the men to stop, they left him alone with his two prisoners. He picked up a sharp knife and leaned close to Starbuck's face, intent on disfiguring him, but didn't molest him sexually. Instead, after leaving Starbuck's face a bloody mess, he contented himself with raping Robardel then, untying him, he left the two helpless men.

"Bucky? Bucky, are you all right? Wake up, Bucky! I can't walk, Bucky. Somebody help!" He called for help repeatedly, but no one answered.

Starbuck finally regained consciousness. He moaned in pain.

"Bucky? Are you awake?"

"Del? What happened? Where am I?" His voice was slurred.

"Oh, Bucky, I was so afraid they'd killed you. Thank the gods you're awake. I've been trying to call for help, but no one will come. Can you move?"

"I don't know. Oh!"

"What's the matter, Bucky?"

"Hurts to breathe. Must've cracked some ribs. I think my leg's broken, too. My head..."

"So you can't walk, either? What'll we do?"

"I don't know." He put a hand to his head. When he pulled it away, he saw that it was covered with blood. "My face! What did they do to my face?"

Robardel looked down at him. He hadn't really seen all the damage until Starbuck began to move. Brenyn had forced him to watch, but he had tried not to *see* what was actually happening. They had paid special attention to his face, beating it even worse than the rest of him. His nose had been broken so both eyes were bruised and swollen. Combined with what Brenyn had done, his face was almost unrecognizable.

"Oh, Bucky, I'm sorry! It's all my fault. I'm sorry!"

"My face." He put his hand up to it again in disbelief. "My face."

"Somebody help, please! I don't know what to do, Bucky. I still can't walk yet and neither can you. What are we going to do?"

"I don't know. Oh, Baby, it hurts!" he cried out as he tried to move.

Robardel listened as Starbuck's breathing grew more labored.

"Bucky, are you still with me?"

After a centon he answered, "I'm here, Baby. It hurts. Hurts to breathe."

"I'm going to try to make it to the door."

"You can't walk."

"No, but I can crawl. I've been working on my upper body, too. I think I can make it." Robardel pulled himself over to the edge of the bed and dropped down with a groan of pain.

"Baby! Are you okay?" Starbuck tried to move again, but his own pain prevented it.

"Just landed wrong. I'm fine."

"Be careful, Del."

"I'm going to get help, Bucky. Hold on."

Starbuck nodded. "I can't breathe, Baby. It hurts."

It seemed to Robardel that it took forever to reach the door. Once there, he pulled himself into a sitting position and levered himself to his feet. He managed to open the door, but fell into the hall. The corridor was deserted. He called again for help. Realizing that there was no one close enough to hear, he looked closely at the door, committed the numbers on it to memory and crawled off in a direction he hoped would lead to people.

It was quite some time before he heard sounds of other human beings. He almost sobbed in relief.

"Help! I need help! Please!"

"Did you hear that?" a voice asked.

"What is it?" came a second voice.

"Is somebody there?" asked the first voice again.

"I'm over here. My name is Robardel. My friend has been badly beaten and needs medical attention. Please hurry."

"Where is your friend?"

"Back that way. The numbers on the door were 64759."

"Where are you? I don't see..."

"Look down. I can't walk."

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. It's my friend. He's back in the room. He needs help."

"64759? You crawled all the way from there?"

Robardel nodded. "My friend needs help. Please?"

"Of course." The first man commed a med team and sent them directly to the room where Starbuck lay on the floor, barely hanging on to consciousness.

"Take me back there, please. He needs me."

"You're in no shape to..."

"If you don't take me back, I'll crawl back there again. He's hurt; he needs me!"

"Okay, okay, we'll carry you back again. Calm down. Are you sure you're all right? What happened to your clothes?"

Robardel had forgotten that he was nude. "It's a long story. Just take me back to Bucky."

"Here, put this on," the first man said as he handed Robardel his jacket to wear.

"Thanks, I appreciate it."

They picked him up gently and carried him back to the room. They reached the room just as the med team arrived.

"He was beaten. He's having trouble breathing and he says he thinks his leg is broken," Robardel told them.

"Which leg?" one of the med techs asked.

"I don't know; he didn't tell me."

"What's his name?"

"Bucky."

"Bucky? We're from Life Center. We're here to help you."

"Life Center? Where's Cass?" he mumbled. "It hurts. I can't breathe."

"Cass? Who's Cass?"

"She's a friend, a med tech on the Galactica," Robardel answered.

"What would a socialator know about the Galactica?" asked one of the men who had carried Robardel back.

Before Del could think of a good answer, the med techs pushed them all out of the way so they could move Starbuck to the Rising Star's Life Center.

"Come on, out of the way. He's got a fractured femur and it looks like he's got at least three broken ribs that are pressing against his lungs. No wonder he says he can't breathe!"

The men carried Robardel on to Life Center. He thanked them profusely for their help.

"I guess you'll want to go back to what you were doing. You're both heroes, as far as I'm concerned. I'm so grateful for your help."

"You're welcome, Robardel. Would you like us to stay with you?"

"It's not necessary. You've done enough already."

"We'd be happy to keep you company. You don't need to sit here alone while they look after your friend. My name's Elyot and this is Malin."

"Thank you both. You really don't have to stay, but I have to confess I'd be grateful for the company."

"Are you all right? Does the doctor need to check you out?"

"No, Bucky's the one who's hurt."

"But we're going to look you over, as well," a med tech said, coming up to them.

"I'm fine. I don't need anything."

"Just let me verify that, okay? Come with me, please."

"Uh, I can't walk. My legs are pretty much useless."

"What? I thought you said you weren't hurt?"

"I wasn't. This is from an old injury. I'm fine."

"Come on," the med tech said, picking him up.

"Put me down!"

"All right," he said as he set him on an examination table. He examined the young man and found the evidence of the rape. He broached the subject unwillingly. "Who did this to you?"

"It was my old master, Sire Brenyn."

"Master? What do you mean?"

"I used to be a slave. Bucky helped me get my freedom, but my master wanted to punish both of us so he did this."

"Do you want to press charges?"

Without thinking, Del answered, "Yes, I do. For both of us."

"I'll call someone from security."

The security officer took a statement from Robardel and promised to look into the situation. Robardel had been forced to reveal Starbuck's real name, first making sure no one else was listening.

The med tech who had examined Robardel returned.

"How is my friend? Will he be all right?"

"Yes, he should be just fine. If he'd moved any more, though, he probably would have punctured a lung. He has three broken ribs and his right leg is broken in two places." The technician shook his head. "That leg. The break is just fractions away from the femoral artery. He would have bled to death if he'd severed that. There's still some danger, but I think we got to him in time."

Almost hesitantly Robardel asked, "What about his face?"

The med tech shook his head. "He's going to require some work there. There's no apparent damage to the facial muscles, but it's going to take some time to get him back to what he looked like before and there may be nerve damage as well. He's going to need some surgery to take care of the scars. Do you have any recent pictures of him for the doctors to use as a guide?"

"I'm not sure if I can find any *recent* pictures. I know I have some from when he was younger."

"The more recent, the better. Hey, what are you doing?" he asked as the security man headed toward the room where they were treating Starbuck.

"I have to have pictures, as evidence against his assailant. I'll also need a full report from the doctor."

"I'm well aware of that, but you'll need to wait..."

"It can't wait. We should have been called before he was even moved. I'll make an exception, but I have to get some pictures."

//////////////////////////////////////////////

When Starbuck awoke, the bandages were still covering his entire face, including his eyes. His first instinct was to rip them off. The sedative they had given him was still in his system so he was groggy and not thinking clearly.

"Brenyn? Where are you?"

"Welcome back, Bucky," said a med tech who had been in the room checking on the patient. "Don't take the bandages off just yet. Your face is still in pretty bad shape."

"My face? What happened?"

"Apparently you made somebody pretty mad at you and he cut you up rather badly."

"Del. Where's Del?"

"Is that the guy who brought you in? He's back in his quarters, I presume. He was treated and released a day ago."

"Treated? You're lying. This is some scheme of Brenyn's"

"Brenyn? Is that the man who beat you?"

"Get this off my face."

"I can't do that. The doctor won't…"

"Get this off my face!" He started to rip at the bandages, in a panic.

"Calm down, calm down. Somebody help me in here!" He grabbed Starbuck's hands and held them down. Others rushed into the room to assist. They tied Starbuck's hands down so he couldn't remove the bandages. They gave him a sedative to calm him.

The doctor called Robardel in to soothe his friend.

"What happened?" the young man asked.

"Apparently he woke and thought he was still in the control of the man who beat him."

"I'll stay with him until the bandages come off. He knows my voice."

"That would be a good idea. I hadn't considered what his reaction would be to finding himself in a strange place with his eyes covered."

"You had no way of knowing, Doctor. I'll stay with him now."

The next time Starbuck woke, Robardel was able to soothe him enough that the med techs untied his hands. As Robardel explained the situation to him, his mood turned darker and darker.

"I'm pressing charges against Sire Brenyn. I also filed charges on your behalf, Bucky, so…"

"On *my* behalf? Thank you, no. I'm not putting Apollo in danger from that boray."

"Bucky, if you don't do something about him, he's just going to keep coming after you. You beat him. He can't stand that. He can't stand being beaten at anything. The only way to stop him *is* to press charges."

"But what if he goes after Apollo? I couldn't stand the thought of that boray hurting my Apollo, Del."

"That's what he's likely to do if you don't do something. He knows now that Apollo is still your weak point, like I am. I don't want him to hurt your friend either, Bucky. That's why I did it. I knew you wouldn't do it yourself, so I did it for you. We're pressing charges and we're going to put him away for hurting you. It shouldn't be too difficult with an eyewitness and the pictures that security took here in Life Center."

"Del, I don't know..."

"Trust me, Bucky. It's the only way."

//////////////////////////////////////////

Robardel panicked about finding pictures for the doctor to use. He went first to Idris, to see if he had any. He didn't, so Robardel had to start back at square one. Reluctantly, knowing how much Starbuck would hate it, he went to the Galactica, to find one of his old friends.

As luck would have it, the first one he saw was Boomer. He remembered the warrior from his time in Life Center.

"Uh, hi, Boomer, isn't it?"

"Yeah. You're Robardel, right? Have you seen Starbuck?" he asked suspiciously

"Yes, that's why I'm here. I need some recent pictures of him..."

"Pictures? Why? Where is he?"

"He...he's been hurt and the doctors need recent pictures of him."

"Hurt? Where is he? What happened?"

"I can't tell you. He's going to be so angry that I even came over here. Please, do you have any recent pictures of him?"

"I do, but you're going to have to tell me where he is first."

"He's in Life Center over on the Rising Star."

"The Rising Star? But we looked there."

"He lives in a part you would never go to. He wanted to stay away from all his old friends."

"He doesn't seem to have stayed away from you."

"I found him by accident and I learned stubbornness from *him.* Please, he needs your help."

"Come with me. I'll get the pictures. Then I'm going with you."

"Oh, all right, just hurry."

Robardel followed Boomer back to his quarters and then led him to the shuttle area. An awkward silence dominated the short trip.

"Come on. It's this way," Robardel said as he motioned for Boomer to follow him.

"I know where Life Center is."

When they reached Life Center, Robardel greeted the med tech who'd helped him with spurious cheer.

"I found some pictures of Bucky. This is a friend of his, Lieutenant Boomer. He had some pictures."

"Good. Let me see them. Yes, these will do."

"Can I see him?" Boomer asked.

"Er, he's a little sensitive about his face right now."

"I haven't seen him in over two sectares. Please, just let me talk to him a centon. His face? What about his face?"

The med tech looked at Robardel. "He was beaten rather badly and needs surgery done on his face. That's what we needed the pictures for. Didn't Robardel tell you?"

"No, Bucky doesn't want his friends to know what's going on," Robardel answered. "He's going to be furious with me for even asking for the pictures."

"I'm not giving you these pictures until I get to see him."

"All right. He's still sedated. His leg is still giving him some pain, so we gave him a pain killer."

"Leg?" Boomer asked.

"Two bones in his leg were broken, including his femur, and he tore some muscles, as well. He also has three broken ribs, and more contusions than I can count. Plus his face."

"Well, take me to him."

Boomer entered the room quietly. He eyed his friend on the bed for a moment, taking in the bandaged face. "Bucko?"

"Hmm? Who is it?"

"It's me, Boomer. Where've you been, buddy? We've been worried sick."

"Boom-boom? What are you doing here?"

"Robardel asked me for some pictures. What the frak did you think you were doing, running away like that?"

"Del? Pictures? What for?"

"They're going to do some work on your face, Bucko. They needed recent pictures."

"Go away, Boomer."

"Forget it, Bucko. Now that I've found you, I'm not budging from this spot until you answer some questions. Now, what happened? Robardel won't tell me anything."

"Brenyn."

"Brenyn? He back again?"

Starbuck nodded. "He didn't appreciate my interfering with his slave so he and a few boys did a number on my face. Wanna see?" he asked, tugging on the bandages.

"Not really, no. Oh, Starbuck!" Boomer said as he saw the damage done. "Sweet Lords of Kobol!"

"Looks great, doesn't it? Very becoming, I think."

"So why did you run away, Bucko?" he asked, trying not to look at his friend's face. Only the blue eyes were the same. Brenyn had used a very sharp knife on him, slicing his face repeatedly. The worst of the gashes had been stitched up. One slash had caught the lid of his right eye so that he could barely open it. His nose was broken, and his face was bruised and swollen all over. Overall, the effect was nightmarish.

"I had to leave, Boom-boom. I couldn't stay. .Not after Apollo..."

"Apollo's been looking everywhere for you. He was frantic after he found to that you'd resigned."

Starbuck snarled at Boomer. "My dearest friend couldn't stand the fact that I'd been a socialator back at the orphanage. I proposed to him, Boom-boom. He turned me down because of 'something in my past'. I had to go." His voice was thick with the suppressed emotion.

"You must've heard wrong, Bucko. He wouldn't..."

"But he did. The Commander was there; he heard it, too. I asked for a transfer to another squadron, but the Commander wouldn't let me have it."

Boomer sat down hard on the chair by Starbuck's bed, his friend's first words just sinking in. "Wait a centon! You *proposed* to Apollo? As in sealing? You asked Apollo to seal with you?"

"Mm-hmm. And he turned me down cold."

"I don't understand it. He's in love with you. Why would he say no?"

"I told you, Boomer. He said it was something about my past. I couldn't stay after I knew he'd lost all respect for me. And the Commander, too. He knew. He heard it."

"He hasn't lost any respect for you, Bucko. I know better. He's been looking everywhere for you ever since you disappeared."

"Don't tell him, Boom-boom. Just go away and don't tell him where I am."

"Uh-uh, buddy. I'm going straight back and tell him where you are unless you tell me where to find you once you get out of here."

"Please, Boomer, don't."

"I will, Starbuck."

"No."

"I think he needs some rest right now," the med tech interrupted, having eavesdropped on their conversation.

"I'm going now, Bucko. Tell me."

"No!"

When he left the room, Robardel stopped him. "Please don't tell Apollo. It's been hard enough on him as it is. He's gone back to being a socialator, Boomer."

"What?"

"He works for a man named Idris. Here's where you'll find the bar. Please don't tell him I told you. And don't tell Apollo."

"All right, I won't tell Apollo."

"Or anybody else?"

"Or anybody else. Why did he do this?"

"Did he tell you that he asked Apollo to seal with him?"

Boomer just nodded, still in shock at the new information.

"When Apollo turned him down, in front of the Commander, I think something just broke inside him. I found him by accident. I couldn't believe he would go back to doing this. He hated it back at the orphanage. Still does, but he won't stop. I've even had Geila offer him a job working for her, but he says he's only qualified for two things. It's going to kill him, I'm afraid."

"And you just made me promise not to tell anybody. What kind of friend are you?"

"A very good one. If Apollo shows up here, he'll run again and, this time, I might not get lucky and find him. I won't risk losing him altogether."

"I won't tell Apollo...yet. But sooner or later, we're going to have to. Sooner or later, if he keeps looking, he's going to find him on his own. And I don't think anybody'll be happy with those results."

"All right, but not yet. Wait until you hear from me about it, okay? I'll have to work on Starbuck a bit, get him ready for it or he will run."

"You have my word on it. Starbuck's my friend, too. Met him my first day at the Academy."

"That's right. You were his roommate. I had forgotten."

"He told you?"

Robardel nodded. "He wrote me several letters before I was sold. I wish I'd been able to keep them, but my second master threw them in the fire as punishment. Oh, well, if he hadn't, Sire Brenyn would've."

"Is Brenyn looking for you, too?"

"I don't think so. I hope making me watch them hurt Bucky was enough to satisfy him. I'm afraid he'll come after Bucky again, though, or Apollo. I'm pressing charges this time. I filed charges on Starbuck's behalf, too. I figured he wouldn't."

"Well, if you need any help getting him to the tribunal, just call me. I have experience with this kind of thing. After all, I did manage to get him to class when we were in the Academy."

"Get him to class? But he used to love school... and learning."

"Bucko? You gotta be kidding me. He had the worst grades I ever heard of. It's a wonder they didn't expel him. I think the only reason they let him stay was because he was such a damn good pilot."

"Strange. Someday I'll have to get you to tell me all about him at the Academy. I feel like I missed out on a lot."

"And you'll have to tell me about what he was like as a kid. Bucko *wanting* to go to class? That sounds bizarre. Good blackmail material. But we'd have to do it some time when he can be there. It's no fun unless I can see his face while he hears it..." He stopped as he thought about Starbuck's face. His smile fell. "Keep in touch with me, okay? Let me know how he does."

"I will. I promise."

After Boomer left, Robardel looked at the pictures he had left for the doctor to use. Most of them were of Starbuck and Apollo together. It was easy to see the affection there, even before they were officially lovers. There was one picture in the pile from the Academy. They were standing outside of some building Robardel couldn't identify. The colors in the picture were very vivid; among the first things that you noticed were a pair of bright blue eyes, and a pair of equally bright green ones. Apollo had one arm around his friend's shoulder. Starbuck looked nervous, like he was getting ready to take off running at any micron. Robardel wondered - had Starbuck fallen in love with Apollo straight away, or was it something that grew over time? Judging from what he remembered of Starbuck's letters, he guessed that he had loved him from their first meeting. Bucky had tried to be subtle about it, but that just made Robardel pay more attention. Sometimes it's what's left unsaid that's important.

The other pictures were similar. Starbuck and Apollo in Triad uniforms; Starbuck and Apollo in dress uniforms; Starbuck and Apollo, Apollo and Starbuck. He glared at the dark haired man in the picture. Bucky loved him so much, yet Apollo had hurt him like no one else could.

/Jealous, Baby?/ Starbuck's voice asked in his head. No, he wouldn't be jealous of Apollo. He wouldn't.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Boomer returned to the Galactica feeling more than a little bit guilty about promising not to tell Apollo, especially when Starbuck was in such bad shape. Then, again, maybe it would be kinder *not* to let Apollo see his lover's face at the moment. He shuddered as he remembered his first sight of Starbuck's face. He wasn't so sure *he* wanted to see it, much less Apollo. And, if he knew about Brenyn, Apollo was likely to go after him and be-damned to the consequences.

Boomer successfully managed to avoid Apollo for the next few days, but finally found himself flying a six centar patrol with him. Both of them were quiet, other thoughts filling their heads. Apollo was naturally worried about his best friend. So was Boomer, just in a different way. He was worried about Apollo, too. The Captain barely slept anymore, staying up late either making inquiries about his missing lover or just worrying about Starbuck when he ran out of ideas. He was more irritable since Starbuck had disappeared, more of a stickler for regulations that Starbuck could have teased him into ignoring. Boomer wondered if any of the other pilots realized how much they owed Starbuck. Apollo's temper hadn't gotten any better with adulthood. He was also a perfectionist. Starbuck was his balance - had been since they met. The two of them complemented each other, with Apollo's seriousness calming Starbuck's wilder schemes, and Starbuck's mischievous nature livening up Apollo's gravity.

Boomer remember some of the fights they had gotten into as cadets. When Apollo's eyes started to flash, Boomer had learned to get the frak out of the way. Starbuck never had. If Apollo was in it, you'd find Starbuck nearby, if not at the center of things. Apollo was intensely loyal to his friends and loved ones. When the upperclassmen threatened Starbuck because he had said or done something to infuriate them (which was quite often) Apollo was the one to demand an apology. Not that he ever got one out of them, but he demanded it anyway. It always ended up in a fight, with Apollo and Starbuck both dragged into the commander's office for reprimands. Apollo fought hard against any special treatment because he was a colonel's son, but it was still there subtly. He was almost a model student. He never missed a class, not even the driest lecture on the most boring topic imaginable. He always had good questions to ask and even read what the instructors assigned them to read before each class. Boomer never had, and as for Starbuck, well... how he had passed, Boomer had no idea. He did know that one time, during their second term, Starbuck had been forced to take oral examinations instead of written ones because they suspected him of cheating. He must have passed, but he never told Boomer or even Apollo what all had happened that day. After that, though, Starbuck had seemed to take classes a little more seriously.

"I wonder how he is," Apollo said over the comm link.

"Me, too," Boomer replied.

"Why did he leave, Boom-boom?" Since Starbuck had left, Apollo had started calling Boomer by his old nickname again, as if to preserve some part of Starbuck. "I should have gone straight after him, shouldn't have listened to Father."

"Yeah, maybe." Apollo had told him something about what happened, not that Starbuck had offered to seal with him, but enough that Boomer had had some idea of the whole story.

"What?"

"Maybe you should have gone after him. You know how sensitive he is when he's serious."

"Who said he was serious? And serious about what? Do you know something you're not telling me, Boomer?"

"You're getting paranoid, Captain," Boomer said, realizing that he had almost slipped.

"Just worry for Starbuck. I'm sorry, Boom-boom. I can't help it. Now I'm suspecting one of my oldest friends of keeping something me. I know you'd never lie to me, Boomer."

Boomer shifted uncomfortably in his cockpit. That hit too close to home for his taste. "Of course I'd never *lie* to you, Captain."

"I wish he'd just tell me where he is. I wouldn't worry so much if I just knew."

"If you *just knew,* Apollo, there's nothing that would stop you from going to him."

"That's not true; if he didn't want me around, I'd stay away."

"You couldn't. I've known you for half your life. If you knew where he was, you'd be on top of him in a micron."

"Why did he run from me, Boomer? Why didn't he stay and talk to me?"

"It's not his way, Apollo."

"I miss him, Boom-boom."

"Me, too, 'Pollo. Me, too."

//////////////////////////////////////////

The date of Brenyn's tribunal came around too soon for Starbuck's taste. The doctors had just started the surgery on his face, so it took some persuasion on Robardel's part to get him to go. He wore a surgical mask to cover the worst of the damage.

Robardel and Starbuck sat behind the opposer, both in hoverchairs. The doctors had managed to fuse Starbuck's leg most of the way through, but because one of the broken bones was his femur, it was simply too large for that to be effective. The torn muscles hadn't healed yet, leaving him in pain much of the time.

Brenyn was led in, glaring at his former slave. His expression changed when he saw Starbuck with the mask over his face. His fierce scowl, changed to a smirk. Starbuck noticed and sunk down deeper into his hoverchair, then winced as that put pressure on his still healing femur.

"It's all right, Bucky," Robardel reassured him.

"How did I let you talk me into this ?"

"I didn't give you a choice in the matter. You forget who taught me to be stubborn."

"I am not stubborn."

"Right."

"Well, I'm not." He looked around the room. "Del, I can't go through with this."

"Too late." The opposer and Brenyn's protector both rose to greet the Tribunal as they entered.

Robardel, being an eyewitness to the attack on Starbuck, was the first witness called.

"Now, Robardel," the opposer started, "Tell us what happened on the night in question."

Brenyn's protector raise his hand to protest. "Ladies and gentlemen of the Tribunal, I protest this witness as biased against Sire Brenyn. He was formerly Sire Brenyn's slave and holds a grudge against him."

The Tribunal leader leaned forward to pursue the matter. "Protector, you have no proof that this witness has a grudge against your client."

"Ask him, your Honor. Let him answer for himself."

"Robardel, do you hold a grudge against the accused for any reason?"

"I hold no grudge against Sire Brenyn for what happened while I was his slave. The only grudge I have is for raping me and treating me like a slave after I became a free man."

"So you admit you do hold a grudge?" the protector asked.

"As I said, for his actions after I was freed."

"We will allow his testimony," announced the head of the Tribunal.

Brenyn's protector nodded. He hadn't really expected that to work.

"Now tell us, Robardel, what happened on the night in question," the opposer started.

"Bucky and I were eating dinner on the Rising Star. I needed to use the turboflush, but on my way there, two men took control of my hoverchair and forced me to go with them."

"Forced you? In a public place?"

"One of them had a knife and threatened to use it on me if I made a sound. Bucky got worried when I didn't come back, so he went to the turboflush to look for me."

"I protest," called Brenyn's protector. "This witness does not know what happened while he was not present. This is mere conjecture on his part."

"Upheld," answered the head of the Tribunal.

"Please continue your story from Bucky's arrival, Robardel," the opposer stated calmly.

"When he got to the room where I was being held, Sire Brenyn told the men to beat Bucky. He forced me to watch, then, when they finished beating him, Sire Brenyn himself started cutting Bucky's face with a knife."

"His face?"

Robardel nodded, shuddering as he remembered watching. Starbuck had already been unconscious at the time, but his friend had winced and cringed for him.

"Yes. That's why he has to wear that mask," he said, pointing at a thoroughly embarrassed Starbuck.

"Please continue your testimony about the night in question, Robardel."

"After Sire Brenyn finished with Bucky, he... raped me, then untied me, and left us in the room, taking my hoverchair with him. I stayed there, feeling helpless for a long time. Bucky finally regained consciousness, but, because of his broken leg, he couldn't walk any more than I could, so I pulled myself off the edge of the bed and crawled out the door and down the hall. I finally found some people who called a med team and helped me back to the room where Bucky was. I filed charges against Sire Brenyn, for the attack on myself and also on Bucky's behalf."

"Thank you for your testimony," the opposer announced. "Since Robardel has mentioned the state of Bucky's face, I believe now would be the time to introduce our evidence." The opposer handed the small packet of pictures to the Tribunal member at the end of the table. She looked at them, shuddered and quickly passed them on. Each Tribunal member in turn did the same thing.

"These are the pictures taken by security after the attack. They reveal the utter brutality of this act against an innocent man." Turning to the protector, he said, "You may question the witness."

"Thank you. Now, Robardel, you say he has to wear the mask? Or is he too vain to go without it?"

"Has to. The doctors have just started surgery on his face."

"Oh, come now; it can't be that bad. May I see the pictures?" Brenyn's protector asked. He kept himself from shuddering with difficulty. "I admit these are rather brutal looking. But surgery? Was that really necessary?"

Robardel nodded. "Yes. There was no way the doctors could heal Bucky's face without leaving very bad scars."

"And he can't live with a few scars?"

"Why should he have to? Besides, you don't seem to realize just how bad the scars are."

"Perhaps we can see and judge for ourselves?"

Starbuck shook his head, no, but the opposer nodded. Blushing profusely, Starbuck took the mask off and levered himself up. The members of the Tribunal winced and shuddered again at the damage done. They didn't recognize him because the first surgery had taken skin from another part of his body and grafted it over the places where the bones had been exposed. The other scars were still vivid.

"Thank you, Bucky," the opposer said gently. Starbuck pulled the mask back over his face and sat back, eyes downcast.

"Now, may we see what he looked like before the alleged attack?" Brenyn's protector asked.

Starbuck's head popped up, frantically shaking no. The opposer, however, produced another packet of pictures, copies of the ones Boomer had given the doctors.

Robardel bowed his own head, feeling his friend's embarrassment. Once again, the pictures were passed down the row of Tribunal members, drawing gasps of recognition this time. Most of them knew that Starbuck had resigned and disappeared. Starbuck refused to meet their glances, keeping his tear-filled eyes on the table in front of him.

"So you say your friend's name is Bucky?" Brenyn's protector asked, looking at the pictures.

Robardel nodded. "Yes, that is his nickname."

"Nickname? What is his real name? Never mind, I'll ask him myself when he's on the witness stand."

Starbuck's shoulders slumped even further.

"Now, I do have one question about your earlier testimony. You said you filed charges on Bucky's behalf. Why on his behalf?" Brenyn's protector asked.

"I knew he wouldn't do it for himself."

"Why not?"

"This isn't the first time Sire Brenyn attacked Bucky. The first time, he threatened to hurt Bucky's friends, so he didn't file charges then. I had the feeling that he would do the same thing again."

"So these charges were brought *against* the wishes of the person who was attacked?" the protector asked in disbelief.

"No. After he woke up, he and I talked about the situation and he agreed that he needed to file charges this time."

The opposer rose and allowed Robardel to leave the witness stand. The next witness he called was Elyot, one of the men who had helped Robardel call the med team for Starbuck. He merely corroborated the part of the testimony in which he was involved. Malin, the other man, also testified, as did the med tech who had answered the call.

As Elyot was giving his testimony, Starbuck's pain medication began to wear off. He had been in some discomfort the whole time, but the increased pain took its toll very quickly. The doctor, who also planned to testify, spoke with the opposer.

"Begging the Tribunal's pardon, but because Bucky is still recovering from his injuries, I request a recess until tomorrow morning. The doctor has just informed me that he has been up too long today and needs to rest."

The Tribunal agreed to the recess and they were allowed to leave. By this time, Starbuck was visibly exhausted and barely able to sit up in the hoverchair.

On their way out, Starbuck and Robardel were met by Idris and Geila, respectively. Robardel had informed Idris of the attack on Starbuck while he was looking for pictures, but the man hadn't been to visit Starbuck in Life Center. This was the first time he had seen his employee since the attack. He had been horrified by the sight of Starbuck's face. He hadn't really been expecting it. Robardel had told him that Starbuck's face had been slashed, but he had no idea how extensive the damage was.

"Well, Bucky, how do you feel?"

"Hi, boss. I feel like hell, thank you. How are you?"

"The boys have been worried about you, Bucky."

"That's so thoughtful of them, Idris," he replied sarcastically. "Tell them I said hi."

"Excuse me, but Bucky needs to get some rest," the doctor interrupted and pushed his hoverchair away.

//////////////////////////////////////////

Once back in Life Center, Starbuck was unable to get to sleep. He reached into the drawer of the nightstand beside the bed and pulled out a little hand held mirror . He took the mask off so he was able to look at his face.

He wanted to cry as he looked at his reflection. Starbuck had never thought of himself as vain before; he knew that people, especially women, considered him handsome, but took it for granted. Now he was glad Apollo couldn't see him. Conversely, he wished for his friend's presence with his whole heart. He needed Apollo to hold him and tell him this was just a nightmare. He wanted Apollo so badly he could taste it.

He had asked the doctor for copies of the pictures Boomer had left, just so he could see Apollo's face. He pulled the pictures from the nightstand. As he looked at them, tears threatened to spill over, but he wouldn't let them. It was his own fault that Apollo wanted nothing to do with him, he reminded himself. No use feeling sorry for himself. But he missed Apollo so much!

He threw the pictures across the room, unable to stand the sight of what he *had* looked like, versus what he *did* look like. He regretted it immediately. He wished he had a picture of just Apollo. He did, back in his room, but had no way to get them.

/Oh, what I wouldn't give for a fumarello or a drink right now,/ he thought. /Just something to steady my nerves. Something to do!/ He had too much time to sit and think about things. Maybe he would ask Del to bring him some books or something.

His unpleasant reverie was interrupted by a med tech coming in to check on him.

"Can't sleep, huh?"

"Of course I'm asleep, can't you tell?" he snapped back.

The med tech looked at the pictures strewn across the room and shook his head. He knew better than to mention them.

"Can I get you something, Bucky?"

"Yeah, I'd like my life back, thank you."

The man looked thoughtful for a moment before answering. "Hmm, think I'll have to put in a special request for that one. I'll have to check with the doctor to see if that's allowed."

Starbuck glared at him. Under other circumstances, he would have appreciated the remark, but as it was, it just infuriated him.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No."

"Something to eat or drink? Something to help you sleep?"

"I said no! Just leave me alone!"

"Okay, okay. Just call if you do decide you need something, all right?"

"I will call you if I need anything. Now go away." He knew he was pushing people away when he needed comfort and reassurance, but he couldn't help it. The one person he wanted to comfort him was unlikely to appear .

He said a small prayer to Adama's God. It was an inarticulate plea for help, a prayer for things to be the way they were.

He was interrupted by a visitor. Boomer knocked on the door only to hear a pained, "Go away! I said don't need anything!"

"Well, I'm sure that would make a difference to some people."

"Boomer? No, go away!"

"I've already seen your face, Bucko. You made me look at it the last time I was here."

"I don't want any visitors, Boomer. It's been a long day and I need some sleep."

"Quick thinking, Bucko. But it won't work on me. I used to live with you, remember? I know full well how many times you stayed out all night with some little girl, then turned around and played Triad with Apollo for…"

"Things change, Boomer," Starbuck said softly. "People change."

"I'm here, Bucko. I'm not going anywhere." Boomer came into the room in time to see the expression of grief that crossed Starbuck's face. "Hey, are these *my* pictures on the floor here?"

"Copies. Sorry, Boom-boom."

Boomer held out a hand that was quickly grabbed and squeezed.

"I take it today went badly. What happened?"

"It seemed like all Brenyn's protector wanted to do was humiliate me. I don't know what Brenyn is up to. The opposer showed the pictures security took right after the attack. Then the protector made me take off my mask and show what it looks like now, then showed pictures of I looked like before."

"Oh, Bucko," Boomer sympathized.

"So the Tribunal already knows who I am. After tomorrow, so will anybody else who's there. Tomorrow *I* testify and Brenyn's protector has already said he's going to ask me my real name. Oh, Boom-boom, why?" He dropped his head carefully into his hands.

"I'm sorry, Starbuck. And what I have to tell you isn't much better. I told Apollo I found you."

Starbuck's head popped back up, once again revealing the scarred face. "Damn you, Boomer, what the hell…?"

"Calm down! I didn't tell him where you were, just that I found you. I had to tell him; he was frantic, Bucko. He doesn't sleep more than a few centares a night. He spends all his off-duty time looking for you. I thought he might relax some if he knew you were safe."

"Then you don't know him very well, do you? He's more stubborn than I am when he sets his mind. He didn't follow you here, did he?"

"No, he was on patrol when I left."

"Good. He's the last person I want to see right now."

"That why you threw the pictures across the room?"

His head dropped again. "No, I've just discovered how vain I am. I couldn't stand seeing what I used to look like."

"I could have told you you were vain, Bucko," Boomer tried to joke. "You just now finding out about it?"

"You're such a help, old buddy. You always know just what to say to cheer me up."

"I'd say you're not interested in cheering up. I'd say you're more interested in feeling sorry for yourself."

"Well, how am I supposed to feel, damn it? I've lost everything I ever wanted because of a bunch of greedy men who thought I could earn them a few cubits. I almost had everything. I was the best damn pilot in this whole frakking fleet, I finally had Apollo. After all the yahrens of wanting him, he was mine."

"And you gave it all up without a fight. I thought better of you than that."

"Oh, go to hell, Boomer. You weren't there. He made it pretty clear he didn't want me anymore, that he'd lost any respect he'd ever had for me, because I had been a socialator."

"He said all that? In all the yahrens I've known Apollo I've never known him to make that kind of judgment. I mean, look at Cassiopeia. He stood up for her, didn't he?"

"There's a difference between me and Cassiopeia."

"Yeah, she didn't run away."

"Are you being this helpful deliberately, Boomer, or is this all just an accident?"

"It's deliberate."

"Well, this kind of help I don't need." He yawned broadly. "Why is it that I'm so exhausted I can barely sit up, but I can't sleep?"

"Have you thought about asking the doctor for something to help? They do stuff like that around here, you know."

"Have you always been this annoying, Boomer, or is this a new thing just for me?"

"Just for you, Bucko. The only way to get you out of this self-pity is to infuriate you, make you see how ridiculous you look when you're like this. You want me to bring you anything next time I come by?"

"No, I don't want you to come back."

"Since I'm going to anyway, you might as well accept gracefully."

Starbuck scowled at this, then asked hesitantly, "Could you stop by my quarters, I mean, my rooms and bring me a picture of Apollo?"

He sounded so unlike himself that Boomer teared up for a moment. "Sure, Bucko. Uh, where are your rooms?"

Starbuck was spared from having to answer by the appearance of Robardel in the doorway. "Just came by to see how you were doing, Bucky. Uh, hi, Boomer."

"Robardel," Boomer acknowledged the greeting.

"Del, baby, can you show Boomer where my rooms are? He's going to get something for me."

"Sure, Bucky."

"Thanks, Baby. I think I can try and get some sleep now, guys. Thanks, Boom-boom."

"Anytime, Bucko. Keeping your ego in check has always been my specialty. Dragging you out of self-pity is just the other side of the same cubit."

A weak smile acknowledged the sally. "Yeah, I guess it is. Thanks, Boom-boom, I've missed you."

"And we've missed you."

"Really?"

"Yeah, nobody else can calm Apollo down when he gets on his high 'regulation' horse."

"Is he doing that again?"

"Of course. He does it whenever he's upset about something."

"He's upset about me leaving?"

"Robardel, you've known him longer than I have. Has he always been this slow?"

"Pretty much. Oh, not slow in school or anything like that, just slow to believe that anybody could like him very much."

"More humor at my expense. Payback is hell, gentlemen."

"That's a little better, Bucko."

"It's good to hear somebody call me that again, instead of…" he trailed off guiltily, looking at Robardel.

"You don't want me to call you Bucky anymore? Why didn't you say so, er, Starbuck?"

"No, no, it's all right when *you* do it, but now it's everybody and I feel like I'm fourteen yahrens old again."

"I thought you were worried about feeling old, Bucko," Boomer teased. "I'll be back in a few days with what you asked for."

"Thanks. I'd appreciate it." The look of grief that flashed across his face didn't escape Boomer's attention.

Boomer and Robardel left Life Center together.

"His rooms are just down this way," Robardel said. "Just our of curiosity, what did he ask for?"

"Oh, just some pictures."

"Pictures. Of Apollo?" Del asked in a quiet voice.

"Yeah," Boomer acknowledged reluctantly, uncertain of the relationship between the two men.

"I wonder why he didn't ask me to get them? I'm here every day."

"Maybe he felt awkward asking you."

"Awkward? Why? Oh, you think that he and I … that we… We're not lovers, Boomer. He's my friend, my brother. I know he loves Apollo and…"

"And you still love him, don't you?"

"Yes, I love Starbuck very much. But he loves Apollo. And I want him to be happy. He's offered to… well, to make love to me, off duty, which would infuriate Idris no end, but I keep telling him I can't because of my legs."

"Who's this Idris?"

"Bucky's boss."

"I wasn't aware that socialators had 'bosses'."

"Oh, yeah, there has to be somebody to take care of them and make sure they stay healthy. Don't want any diseases, you know."

"I guess not."

"Here's his room. Do you know his code?"

"I can probably figure it out." After thinking for a centon, Boomer keyed in a code; the door slid open smoothly.

"How did you know? Did he tell you?"

"No, I've just known him a long time."

"It is pretty obvious, isn't it?"

"To anybody who knows the daggit. Thanks, Robardel."

"Don't mention it, Boomer. It was my pleasure."

"You can come in if you'd like. Looks like it's been a while since the maid was here, though."

"Well, Bucky's been in Life Center for a couple of sectons now. And he never was the neatest of people to begin with."

"No, he was certainly a slob at the Academy."

"I'd really love to hear stories about him at the Academy sometime, Boomer. He sounds so different from the Bucky I knew at the orphanage."

"I'd be interested in hearing what he was like before. Doesn't sound like the same person."

"Oh, I guess he's not really *that* different. It's probably more that he wasn't allowed to get away with as much at the orphanage, not with Siress Cynara around."

"Siress Cynara?"

"One of the matrons. She was also one of our teachers. Nobody dared let her down. I think she was one of Bucky's sponsors."

"If she could put the fear in Starbuck, I'd like to meet her. Say, how are your legs doing?"

Robardel blushed. "I can move them a little now, so Geila says there's hope that I'll be able to walk with assistance soon."

"Geila, huh? Man, is she still as good as she was?"

"Better! When did you see her dance?"

"Back on Caprica, she came to teach a weekend class in my neighborhood. You know, one of those, 'Let's give a little something to the kids in the wrong neighborhood' kind of thing. She was impressive."

"She's amazing. And the work she's doing with the orphans is astounding. The children respond to her so well."

"And to you?"

"Yeah, to me, too, I guess. Look, I'd better be going back now. It was nice to have a chance to talk with you, Boomer."

"You, too, Robardel."

It took a moment for Boomer to find the pictures Starbuck wanted. He'd hidden them so none of his clients would find them, but he had quite a little shrine to Apollo. Boomer shook his head - pictures, a Galactica insignia, keepsakes from the Academy. He couldn't believe that his two best friends were hurting themselves like this. Apollo wasn't much better; his Starbuck shrine was just a little more openly displayed in his quarters back on the Galactica.

//////////////////////////////////////////

After his two friends had left, Starbuck lay back in his bed and did the only thing he could do - think. He relived every moment he had had with Apollo, since they had become lovers. It was torture but, Lords, what sweet torture! He remembered the first time he had dared tell Apollo about his feelings.

It had come about because they were both drunk. They had spent the evening gambling (and drinking) on the Rising Star and returned to the Galactica very late. Athena was baby sitting Boxey so Apollo went with Starbuck to his new quarters for another drink.

"Nice," Apollo said, surveying the room.

"Isn't it, though? Wanna 'nother drink, 'Pol?"

"Sure. So how'd you rate quarters with more than one room, Bucko? Thanks," he said as he took the ambrosa from Starbuck. They both continued to drink steadily as they talked.

"Asked for 'em when I asked Athena to seal with me. Forgot about it at the time, or I would've canceled the request when she turned me down. Then one day last secton, I got notified that the change of quarters I'd asked for was approved and I could move any time."

"Amazing. You have the most incredible luck of anyone I know, Bucko. Except when it comes to cards."

"Now tonight was not my fault! He was cheating."

"The dealer would've noticed any cheating going on."

"That dealer wouldn't know cheating if he saw the guy slip a card out of his sleeve. I know cheating when I see it."

"Anytime you lose, the other guy is cheating, izzat it?"

"Must be. Usually I win."

"Why is it you only win when you play with *your* money, but you lose when you play with *mine *?"

"Oh, I don't always lose your money, 'Pol. I have been known to win you a bundle before."

"When?"

"I always win, when it's serious, 'Pollo. Like right now. I've been betting myself all night long whether or not I'd have the guts to do this. I think I do."

"Do what?"

"Have the guts to do this." He leaned over, taking Apollo's face between his hands. "See, I win." He kissed his captain on the mouth.

"Starbuck, what was that?" Apollo asked when he was allowed to breathe again.

"I *am* losing my touch. That was a kiss, Apollo."

"I know *that.* But, why?"

Starbuck sank down in his chair and mumbled something.

"What did you say, Starbuck?"

"I said, it was because I love you, Apollo." He looked up tentatively at the object of his affection. The very inebriated object of his affection. "I'm sorry, 'Pol. I shouldn't have done that."

"Why not?"

"Why *not?* What do you mean why not? Because you like women, that's why not."

"And you don't?"

"Course I like women. They're fun to be around. I like Cassie and 'The and..."

"Starbuck, I don't understand."

"S'cause you're slow, 'Pollo," Starbuck giggled.

"I am not slow; I just like to take things easy and I respect people."

"You respect me? Even after I kissed you?"

Apollo looked thoughtful, or as thoughtful as possible after a night of carousing with Starbuck. He had tried to match Starbuck drink for drink, with rather good success. "I don't know. I think I'll have to kiss you again to see."

"See what?"

"F'I still respect you. I'll have to see how good a kisser you really are." So saying, he grasped Starbuck's head between his hands and kissed him on the lips, a hard, sudden kiss.

It didn't take the astonished lieutenant long to adapt to the situation. He let his tongue play across Apollo's lips until they opened to let him in. He accepted the invitation and ran his tongue across the backs of Apollo's teeth. Apollo broke the mood by giggling drunkenly.

"What? Whazzamatter?"

"This! I've never had anybody try to count my teeth before."

"I was *not* counting your teeth. I was kissing you," Starbuck pouted.

"I've heard about this, but I never thought..."

"Aw, cut it out, Apollo."

"Starbuck, did you mean what you said?" Apollo asked after a moment of sullen silence on Starbuck's part.

"Mean what?"

"You said you love me."

Starbuck winced, expecting rejection. "Yeah, I said it. I'm sorry, Apollo."

"Then you didn't mean it?"

"Of course I meant it. I've loved you since the first day I saw you."

After a pause Starbuck looked up in horror as he realized what he had said.

"You *love* me? You mean, like a brother, right?"

"No, not like a brother. Like a lover." Starbuck gulped, afraid of the response.

"I thought you liked women?"

"I do, but... I don't know. I just know that I love you."

"It may take me some time to get used to this."

"I'm sorry, Apollo; forget I ever said anything. In the morning this will be just a drunken dream."

"Does it have to be?"

Starbuck's head had sunk down, but it popped back up once again at Apollo's question. Cautiously he answered, "Not if you don't want it to be."

"Like I said, it's going to take some getting used to. Why don't we start trying tonight? Athena's with Boxey, so I can stay with you."

"You mean it? It would be cruel of you to joke about this."

"So who's joking?" He stretched out his arms and Starbuck fell willingly into them. Apollo pulled his friend in close, until their mouths were almost touching. Starbuck smiled at him, half afraid this was an alcoholic dream. "I'm not."

"You're not... what?"

"Joking."

This time the kiss was slow, gentle, perfect. Both men were gasping for air when they finally broke it off.

"Apollo, izzis a dream? Am I gonna wake up in the morning... alone?"

"No, I think you're gonna wake up with a hangover."

"F'you were with me, I think I could even stand that awful pun."

Starbuck dove in for another kiss, at the same time pulling at Apollo's clothes. Off came the tunic, revealing a tanned, muscular torso. Unable to wait any longer to taste what he'd dreamed about for so long, Starbuck kissed his way down Apollo's neck, all the way to his nipples. There he paused to pamper those twin peaks of arousal with kisses, licks and nibbles. He was like a child who'd suddenly discovered that everything in front of him tasted like mushies. Choco mushies, at that.

Apollo was well on his way to sensual overload. Starbuck's hands were as active as his mouth, stroking, petting, caressing as much of his friend's body as they could reach. Apollo pulled the blond head away from his chest long enough to smile into the shining blue eyes, the eyes of a man who'd found heaven.

"Like it? There's better to come."

"Starbuck, I've never done..."

"Anything like this before. I know, 'Pollo. I have. You can trust me."

"Can we take this slow and easy?"

"Sure, slow and easy it is." He returned his attention to Apollo's body, lapping gently at the soft skin covering firm muscles. Apollo let out a sigh of contentment that almost set the seal on Starbuck's happiness. He was pleasing Apollo! He felt a shiver of his own arousal as he reached tentatively down to Apollo's crotch and felt the hardness waiting for him.

Apollo tensed as he felt his best friend stroke his erection through his pants. "Starbuck..."

"Shh, slow 'n easy, 'Pol, slow 'n easy. Promise." Starbuck pulled back enough to unfasten his captain's pants, then slid them down his hips to reveal the object of his desire. He had seen Apollo naked before; he had seen Apollo naked and aroused before, but this time, knowing that Apollo was naked and aroused because of *him* - it was almost too much for him to take. He sat back, transfixed by the image of himself before a shrine, with Apollo as the altar.

"Uh, Starbuck." His image collapsed as the altar suddenly spoke. "I know I said to take it slow, but could we go a little faster?"

"Sure, 'Pol, anything you want." After working Apollo's boots off, he finished pulling off his pants. He wanted to dive in and take his friend in his mouth, but wasn't sure that Apollo was ready for that, so he pleasured him with both hands.

The demon of mischief rose in Starbuck. He stroked Apollo back to full arousal, and, just as he felt the tension in the other man's balls begin to build to completion, he pulled back, instead caressing Apollo's strong thighs. Again and again, he brought Apollo to the brink of climax, but never quite allowed him to reach it.

"Starbuck, you're torturing me," Apollo moaned as Starbuck pulled away from his genitals again.

"Oh? I thought this was what you wanted," he said innocently.

"What I wanted?"

"Yeah, you did say 'slow,' didn't you?"

Apollo reached up to smack Starbuck, but his hands were forestalled by the presence of Starbuck's hands back on his cock. This time Starbuck allowed him to come. Apollo erupted with a loud moan of pleasure and passed out.

"You like, 'Pol? 'Pol? Apollo?" Realizing his friend had passed out, he snickered, "Can't hold your ambrosa, can you?" He pulled back and just stared at his naked friend. Apollo was in *his* bed, with semen all over him. He licked his fingers and, after debating for a moment, bent back over and licked the rest of the cum off his now-lover. Apollo grunted as he was cleaned, but, otherwise, showed no response.

Starbuck slipped off the bed and plopped back into a chair. Then his own erection reminded him of its presence. He pulled his pants off and eased back into the seat. His eyes on Apollo the whole time, he began to stroke himself, slowly at first, building to the point where need dominated all else, then allowed himself the pleasure of his own climax.

After cleaning himself up, Starbuck settled quietly into bed beside Apollo. Sleep followed quickly.

Apollo woke first, to a blinding headache.

"Wha? Where...?" He looked around at the unfamiliar room, then noticed the familiar blond head on his shoulder.

On his shoulder? On his bare shoulder? It took a moment before he remembered anything about last night. He smiled as the memories finally surfaced through a few layers of ambrosa. The smile lasted for approximately one centon - then the only thought in his head was getting to the turboflush before he threw up. He jumped up, letting Starbuck's head fall from his shoulder without thinking.

Starbuck groaned when his head hit the bed. He didn't want to wake up - ever. He heard the sound of someone vomiting then pulled a pillow over his head so his own stomach wouldn't want to join in. It seemed that he was getting as sensitive as Apollo! Throughout their career at the Academy, it had become obvious that Apollo couldn't stand the sight or sound of anyone else throwing up. Whenever confronted with anything of the kind, he joined in the misery.

Too late. Starbuck reached for the bucket he kept under the bed and threw up last night's evening meal. Then the rest of yesterday's meals. Then last secton's meals. When he could finally open his eyes again, he looked up to see a pair of pain-filled green eyes staring back at him.

"Got any painkillers?"

"Turboflush. In the cabinet. Bring me two, will ya?"

Handing the painkillers to Starbuck, Apollo asked, "Got anything to drink other than ambrosa?"

"Ooh, don't mention that word. Just water." He gulped the painkillers dry.

"How do you *do* that? They taste awful."

"Not any worse than the inside of my mouth right now. Might even be better, I dunno."

They sat in silence, waiting for the painkillers to take effect. Starbuck steadfastly refused to look at Apollo, remembering what had happened the night before. Both men were still nude, though Starbuck had pulled a blanket over himself.

"Starbuck, about last night..." Apollo began, only to be interrupted by his friend.

"Look, I'm sorry, Apollo, I was drunk and things just, well, they just got out of control."

"No need to apologize. I enjoyed myself. I think I have the answer to your question."

"What question?"

"Do I still respect you." He paused, knowing he was driving Starbuck crazy.

"Well?"

"Yeah. I think you're the best kisser I've ever experienced," he said, expecting a cocky answer.

"That wasn't what I meant."

Apollo was momentarily startled by the seriousness of the reply. "Yes, of course I still respect you. You're my best friend and the best pilot I know."

Starbuck stared at him anxiously.

"And I love you, too."

"You do? Not as a brother?"

"Definitely *not* as a brother. Somehow I couldn't picture Zac..." He stopped as he remembered his younger brother.

"You love me? You mean it? You're not disgusted at what I did last night?"

"Disgusted? I loved it! And I'd like to return the favor."

Starbuck couldn't believe his ears. Apollo loved him and wanted him? It was too much happiness at one time!

"Any time, Captain."

Apollo pushed away the blanket. "You have such a beautiful body, Starbuck. I've always thought so."

"Not always, 'Pollo. I used to be such a scrawny kid."

"True. I had forgotten the way you looked when I first met you. But, even then, you had a face like an angel."

The word 'face' jarred Starbuck back to the here and now. Suddenly he was back in the room in Life Center on the Rising Star. He tried to recapture the memory of his first time with Apollo, only to find that reality wouldn't let him. He had lost Apollo.

//////////////////////////////////////////

The Tribunal continued as it had begun. To Starbuck it seemed that the whole thing was designed to humiliate him. Brenyn's protector had apparently notified the IFB that something interesting was going to happen, because they were there in force.

Starbuck asked to be the first witness called this time. "Might as well get it over with," was his response when the opposer asked him why.

He moved to the makeshift witness stand in his hoverchair. The Tribunal accommodated him in this way to avoid reinjuring his leg.

The opposer started by asking Starbuck to tell his account of the incident.

"I was eating evening meal with Robardel. He needed to go to the turboflush. When he didn't return, I followed him, to make sure he was okay. There was a note for me there saying if I wanted to see him again I should follow the two men sitting at the table closest to the turboflush. They took me to a remote room where I found Robardel tied to a bed. Sire Brenyn was also there and told the two men to 'have fun' with me. They did. Their idea of fun is not the same as mine, since my idea of fun doesn't involve having my femur broken."

"No further questions," the opposer announced, then sat back down.

Brenyn's protector began his questions by asking for Starbuck's full name and profession.

"My name is Starbuck. I'm a socialator."

"I'm sorry, I can't understand you. Perhaps if you removed your mask?"

Starbuck complied. "My name is Starbuck. I'm a socialator," he repeated woodenly.

"Starbuck? Starbuck? I remember hearing of a warrior named Starbuck who disappeared some time ago."

The man in the hoverchair nodded reluctantly. "That was me."

"How interesting. And how did this situation occur? Why the change?"

"Personal reasons," Starbuck answered curtly.

"Why don't you share them with us?"

"I fail to see what bearing this has on the current Tribunal," the opposer interrupted.

"Withdraw the question. So Sire Brenyn had no part in the attack?"

"Other than ordering it? Not while I was conscious, no. When I came to, Robardel told me that he had been the one to slash my face."

"But you don't know yourself exactly who did it?"

Starbuck raised an eyebrow as best he could. "No, I was unconscious at the time. Del was conscious, though. He was a witness."

"We have already established that Robardel is a hostile witness. He has admitted to having a grudge against Sire Brenyn." He stopped and paced a moment. "You say your femur was broken. Sounds painful."

"It is."

"Still is? It still bothers you? Perhaps you need a painkiller?"

"No, the painkillers make me groggy. I want to be lucid for this Tribunal."

"I'm sure Dr. Salik on the Galactica would be able to help you there. And I'm sure your friends must miss you."

Starbuck stiffened. "I have every confidence in my doctor here, thank you."

"Why *did* you resign, Lieutenant?"

"As I said, personal reasons."

"You abandoned the people of the fleet because of a personal disagreement with your lover?"

Starbuck stiffened. He glared at the opposer, trying to get him to intervene. "I didn't abandon the fleet. I resigned as a warrior because I felt I could no longer function effectively as a viper pilot."

"Because of an argument with your lover."

"I protest. This line of questioning is unnecessary to the matter at hand," the opposer finally announced.

"Withdrawn."

The head of the Tribunal intervened at this point. "Protector, this is the second time the opposer has reminded you to keep to the subject at hand. Next time will not reflect well at all."

The protector nodded respectfully. "Yes, Sire. Now, Bucky...or Starbuck, which do you prefer?"

"Either one will do. I answer to both these days."

"Now, Starbuck, do you have any idea why Sire Brenyn would want to hurt you? What motive would he have?"

"I brought charges against him for beating Robardel..."

"His now-former slave?"

"Yes. These charges resulted in Robardel's being freed from slavery. Sire Brenyn resented my actions. I can only suppose that he did it for revenge."

"You *suppose?* But you have no proof?"

"I have no idea why the man would want to harm me. He did threaten to hurt my friends."

"He did? Be careful what you say."

"To the best of my memory, yes, he did threaten my friends. That was why..." he stopped.

"That was why... what?"

"That was why I didn't bring charges against him for his prior attack on me."

"What prior attack?"

"He had beaten Robardel severely and I was concerned for my friend. Sire Brenyn didn't like the fact that I kept 'interfering' with his slave, as he saw it. So, as a warning, he... whipped me. I spent quite some time in Life Center with an infection from the beating I received then."

"You were a warrior. And a colonial warrior let someone *whip* him?"

"I didn't *let* him do anything. There were three men holding me down, and another one of Brenyn's slaves standing by."

"Another of his slaves?"

"Yes, a slave named Cade."

"You don't know the other men?"

"No, I had never seen them before."

"But you knew the other slave, this Cade?"

"Yes, we were both in the orphanage together on Caprica."

"Perhaps we ought to hear from this slave, then. He can corroborate your story."

"Whatever you feel is best." The pain from his leg was becoming severe. This was the first time he had tried to sit in this position for any length of time. Yesterday he had sat with his weight almost entirely on his left leg, but today he tried to sit more normally, putting pressure on the still-mending bone.

"You may return to your position. I would normally say you may return to your seat, but you seem to have brought yours with you," he tried to joke. Starbuck just glared at him.

He called Cade to the witness stand.

"So, Cade, you are slave to Sire Brenyn."

"Yes, sir." Cade looked tense and nervous.

"You were present at the alleged attack upon Lieutenant Starbuck?"

"Yes, sir."

"And did it happen as he testified?"

"No, sir, it did not." Cade looked over to Robardel as if he were trying to say something.

"It didn't?"

"No, sir."

"No further questions."

Robardel leaned up and whispered something in the opposer's ear. After a micron, the opposer rose and asked one more question.

"Are you telling the truth, Cade?"

Cade sighed his relief. "No, sir, I am not."

A murmur rose from the room. Starbuck looked at Cade curiously.

"Why did you lie, Cade?"

"I was ordered to by my master."

"You know the penalty for perjury, do you not?"

"Yes, sir. But the penalty for disobeying my master is death."

"So tell us what did happen that night."

Cade smiled at Robardel, who returned the smile with a nod. "My master wanted me to get Bucky, I mean Lieutenant Starbuck, to the celestial dome. It was much as Bucky said here. Sire Brenyn was waiting for him with three men. They subdued Bucky, and Sire Brenyn... lashed him with a barbed whip. The whip was one that he had used a few days before on Robardel. He beat him badly and left him in the dome. He said he would send someone for him later, but I don't know if he would have or not."

"Did Sire Brenyn threaten Bucky's friends?"

"Yes, sir, he did. He told Bucky to remember just who might be hurt if he didn't listen."

"Why are you telling us the truth now, Cade?"

"I owe it to Bucky."

"Thank you, Cade."

As the opposer sat back down, Starbuck looked over at Brenyn. He looked furious. Cade was going to be in trouble. It was almost poetic, but he felt guilty. Cade had just put himself in danger to help Starbuck and he was going to be punished for it.

The head of the Tribunal rose and asked the opposer and the protector if they had any more evidence to present. After closing arguments, the Tribunal left to consider the verdict.

"It has to be guilty," Robardel said. "He didn't even try to mount a defense."

"With an eyewitness to his crime, there wouldn't be much of a defense he could mount," the opposer agreed.

"What about Cade?" Starbuck asked. "If he's found guilty, what's going to happen to his slaves? We can't get Cade out the way we did Del."

"His slaves would be sold off. Cade would go to a new master."

"Del, what did Cade do for Brenyn? I doubt he used him the same way he used you."

Robardel shook his head. "No, Cade looked after the other slaves, took care of us. If anybody threatened one of us, he would protect us. And when the master beat us, Cade made sure we got medical treatment."

"Um-hmm," Starbuck said thoughtfully.

"It may take some time before the Tribunal makes its decision. Why don't you two go relax a while? They'll call when they're ready."

"Okay. Come on, Bucky. Race you."

"No fair, you have more experience with these things." He started off after his friend.

They went into a bar that was close by. Robardel ordered a fruit juice and looked at Starbuck to see what he'd like.

"Nothing, thanks."

"Not thirsty, Bucky?"

"Not willing to take this thing off again," he said, indicating his mask. "I've had too many people seeing my face as it is."

"Sorry, Bucky, I didn't think."

"No problem, Baby. I guess I'm still too vain for my own good."

The barman came by with Robardel's drink. "Drinks are on me, you two. Saw you on the IFB this morning."

Starbuck's head popped up, his eyes horrified. "What?" he asked faintly.

"Yeah, the whole thing was on the IFB. You really Starbuck?"

Starbuck shook his head, ignoring the man's question. "Lords, no. If Apollo saw that... I've got to get out of here." He started to maneuver his hoverchair toward the door.

"Bucky, it's probably too late. Besides, I'm not through with my drink. And don't you want to see what the Tribunal decides?"

"I don't care. Apollo..."

"Probably didn't see it. I'm sure he had better things to do than sit and watch the IFB."

Starbuck came back to the table. "Lords, I hope so. Come on, Baby, finish your drink. I've got to get out of here."

"Calm down, Bucky. We'll go when the Tribunal comes back in."

"Looks like they're coming back now," the barman said, pointing to the screen.

"What? They were supposed to call for us. Come on, Baby."

"Right behind you." The two presented an odd sight, two men in hoverchairs going as fast as they could to the Tribunal room. "Thanks," Robardel called back to the barman.

They entered the room as the people were just sitting back down. They raced to their positions behind the opposer.

"What happened? I thought they would announce when they were ready," Starbuck asked.

"Normally they do. I don't know. Shh, let's see what they have to say."

The head of the Tribunal stood and spoke solemnly. "Seldom has this Tribunal faced a decision like this one. Sire Brenyn is a respected man, yet he is accused of heinous crimes. Because of the weight of the evidence, however, it did not take long to reach our verdict. The accused will rise."

He paused long enough for the man to comply. "Sire Brenyn, you have been found guilty of the assault on Starbuck, also known as Bucky. The sentence is five yahrens on the prison barge, sentence to be carried out immediately."

Brenyn shot back, "Five yahrens for slicing up a whore who deserted his people when they needed him? Is a whore really worth that much?"

Starbuck felt no sense of triumph at the verdict, he was just glad it was over. Ignoring the people clamoring around him, he headed straight for the door.

"Bucky?" a voice called to him.

"Cade?"

"Thanks. For freeing me from Brenyn. I know I didn't deserve your help, but..."

"I didn't do anything, Cade."

"You brought the charges against him."

"No, Del did that. And Del was the one who convinced the opposer to ask you the question that put him away."

Cade stretched out a hand and stroked Robardel's head. "Thanks, kid."

"Cade, I'm sorry we couldn't get you free like me, but..."

"Don't worry about it, kid. I'll manage. I always have." He was led away with the rest of Brenyn's slaves, who'd been present for the Tribunal.

"Del, I'm confused. This is Cade, you remember, the one who terrified you so much you were willing to sell yourself into slavery to get away from him?"

"Bucky, I know it sounds strange, but Cade changed. Like I said, he looked after the rest of us, took care of us when we were sick or hurt. He's not the same bully he used to be. He was forced into slavery just as much as I was. We have to do something for him."

"Do something? For Cade? Are you crazy?"

"Maybe. But I feel responsible somehow. I mean, he didn't ask to be a slave any more than I did. It's wrong that I should be free and him still a slave."

"We can't free him the way we did you. He was of age when he was sold. And we have no proof that he was sold against his will. The records were all destroyed on Caprica. What could we do to help?"

"You could buy him, Bucky."

"What? I don't want a slave! I don't want anything to do with slavery, even if it *is* legal."

"You could give him his freedom after you buy him. Or he could work for Idris, doing pretty much the same thing he did for Brenyn."

"Have Cade looking after *me?* Are you kidding? Thank you, no. I had Cade *look after me* before, back at the orphanage, remember? That's what got me into this trouble in the first place."

"Cade's changed. He's really different, Bucky. I know. I've been around him for yahrens now. Please, Bucky?'

"No!"

"I don't have enough currency to buy him and I can't ask Geila to do it," Robardel pleaded with his friend.

"Forget it, Robardel."

"When you call me that, I know you're mad at me."

"Look, Baby, I'm not mad at you. Could we please just change the subject?"

"It's important to me, Bucky."

Starbuck stopped in the middle of the corridor. "It's that important?"

"It's that important."

"But it's Cade."

"He's changed, Bucky. Please?"

"I'll consider it. That's all, no promises."

"Thank you, Bucky. It means a lot to me."

"No promises, I said. I might not have enough currency..."

"As much as you pull in for Idris? Oh, come now. I've seen you walk away from the tables with a fortune."

"Most of which goes to Idris. My boss, remember? It's the only way he would agree to let me play Pyramid."