

Parbonberry Fields Forever
by Minna Toivonen (mikrito@hotmail.com)

Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The characters don't belong to me. No profit is being 
made from this story.


Prologue

He so much wanted to take off the gloves and touch the pale skin 
with bare fingertips. Feel the smoothness and warmth of the face. 
To run his fingers over those closed eyelids and feel the velvet 
softness of the long eyelashes resting on the cheeks. How he 
wanted to bend over and let his tongue sweep over those closed 
eyes. Over those tanned cheeks. To mark his territory. To 
impurify!

The soft, quiet sound of tranquil breathing. The sweet 
undisturbed tune of unconsciousness.

The maker felt his heart racing in the darkness and solitude of 
the room, watching the other man sleeping. How he desired to 
penetrate the infuriating integrity of unawareness.

Smoothly, slowly. Running his gloved hand along the right arm of 
the sleeper. Along the bare skin, so pale and fragile. How he 
hated those gloves. How he wished he could caress the skin with 
his lips and then slowly sink his teeth into the flesh. To taste, 
to own. To leave his teeth marks on the arm, watch them turning 
supple red as the blood underneath the skin slowly found its way 
to the surface wounds. But it was not yet time.

The man moved in his sleep. He made a little sound, barely 
audible. A sigh. In the darkness, the maker could so well see 
those eyelids twitching as the man was traveling through dreams.

So softly, the maker ran his gloved hand along the cheek of the 
sleeper, moving upwards to the eyelids and the forehead, finally 
letting his hand find its way inside the mop of tousled dark hair 
sprawled on the pillow. So soft.

The maker bent down a little and sniffed the hair. Immediately a 
shock of unbearable excitement shot through him. Almost 
uncontrollable. The blood in his veins surged forward, throbbed.

Screamed...

The maker had to close his eyes and concentrate in regaining 
control over himself. It was not yet time.

The dark-haired man moved again. He tossed the blanket aside and 
mumbled something in his sleep. Then he moved again. The maker 
smiled melancholically in the darkness. This was the sign to 
leave.

He bent a little forward until his face was almost touching the 
face of the sleeper. Feeling the warmness of the soft, tranquil 
breathing on his face, being so close he could so easily have 
kissed those unaware lips, the maker stared at the man. Stared so 
intensely he could almost see into the man's dreams. "Soon, my 
special one." The maker felt his penis getting erect. "Soon..."

So softly, so quietly, the maker moved to the door and 
disappeared from the room like he had never been there. 
Surrounded by silence and solitude, bathing in the mere light of 
a faraway moon, Apollo opened his eyes.

Perhaps it was a dream or a sound. Most likely it was nothing 
that had awakened him.

Sleepily Apollo eyed around the moonlit room. Starbuck had not 
returned from duty yet and Apollo wasn't expecting him until the 
early centars of the morning. Beautiful, unique Starbuck.
With a smile on his face, Apollo slowly drifted back to sleep...

* * *

Chapter 1

Caiari Moonfall. Day 2.

The Scorpio Sigma lounge was packed. One could hardly make his 
way to the bar.

Daniel let his eyes sweep over the lounge, enjoying the sight of 
so many influential people gathered together in one place. All of 
them looking extravagant, even pompous. All of them strolling 
around the lounge, chatting to each other for a passing moment, 
superficially, meaninglessly.

Tonight, the Scorpio Sigma was the place that had the power to 
change one's whole life. Make the dreams happen.

Daniel knew he would one day become famous. He had always known 
that the magic would happen. He had been born to make a 
difference. His mother had told him that.

So far, Daniel had only made it to doing striptease shows on the 
Rising Star, but hell, that was only the beginning. Daniel had no 
intention to let his own hopes down. One day someone important 
would unavoidably notice his special talents and hard-to-ignore 
presence.

A man pushed past Daniel, making him almost spill his drink. 
Someone with an expensive Garcini suit and extremely well-
trimmed, graying hair. Daniel's eyes followed the guy.

"Harry Clifford! You son of a daggit!"

Daniel turned. 

The man in the Garcini suit turned.

"You never cease to amaze me Cliff!" A man with a balding 
forehead and a huge pretentious smile was fighting his way 
through the crowd.

"Where do you always find these lads?! 'Otherside' will 
definitely be the hottest new musical act in ages!!"

"Darren Chiswick." The man in the Garcini suit created a warm 
smile on his face and opened his arms to give the approaching IFB 
marketing manager a friendly business hug.

"I'm so glad you could make it Darren. Such a stylish tie you are 
wearing."

Darren Chiswick patted Harry Clifford's shoulder during the 
friendly hug.

"I wouldn't have missed this for the world Cliff." Darren 
grinned. "The catering is such a success, the mushies are 
delicious, the ambrosa is as old as it can get... Yeah, 
definitely a successful little get-together you have organized 
here!"

"I'm glad you approve Darren..." Harry Clifford's smile was like 
syrup. "...But you will have to excuse me for I was just on my 
way backstage to make sure the band is still in one piece and 
ready for the evening's performance..."

"Sure Cliff!" Darren Chiswick smiled. "But don't forget I'm 
planning to beat you in golf next secton you daggit..."

"D. Chiswick!!" A widely grinning Comptel financial assistant 
Mike Torrance appeared there beside the two men. "Darren, you 
devil. Still a gatecrasher..."

"Mikey, Mikey!" Darren Chiswick beamed. "You should know by now 
that everyone is just dying to invite me to their parties... I've 
always been DA MAN when it comes to being an entertaining 
guest..."

"Careful with that self esteem Darry!"

"Nice to see you here too Mike." Harry Clifford smiled. "I hope 
you'll enjoy yourself... Now, please excuse me, I have to..."

Harry Clifford was already on his way across the crowded hall, 
walking smoothly and with self-confidence. Daniel watched him 
going.

Mike Torrance's large front teeth made him look like a horse.

"Darren, you devil. What were you talking with H. Clifford? And 
don't tell me it was nothing. That man sure has his finger on the 
golden pulse of business!"

"You bet Mikey!" Darren Chiswick grinned. "Our Cliff sure is a 
fracking goldmine!"

"And a heck of a fellow too!" Mike Torrance put his arm around 
Darren's shoulder and started to lead him towards the crowded 
bars.

"Come on D! Let's get ourselves something to drink, shall we! My 
throat is starting to feel like sandpaper..."

Daniel didn't take his eyes off the man in the Garcini suit 
walking towards the backstage door.

Harry Clifford. Daniel smiled...

Future.

* * *

Yeah, so, err... in addition to being Daniel's future, a fracking 
goldmine and a heck of a fellow, Harris Clifford was an IFB 
producer and he damn well looked like one too. A fairly handsome 
man in his early forties. A bit of gray highlighting the well-
trimmed hair, creating an impression of distinguished elegance. 
Brown eyes. Thick, but nicely formed eyebrows. Tall, lean figure 
that was well maintained by a daily dose of gym visiting. Such 
impeccable taste when it came to clothes and appearance. Harry 
Clifford was the most eligible bachelor on the Comptel ship.

* * *

Clifford opened the stage door and descended the few steps 
leading down to the corridor of the artist dressing rooms. He 
pulled open a red door, the first one on the left, and stepped 
inside a smoky room.

"Hi ya mate!" A shockingly blond, bleached mop of hair turned and 
the face hidden somewhere underneath grinned at Clifford. "How's 
it going with the outside world..."

"Pretty well Nicael." Harry Clifford smiled dryly. "Most of the 
important people we want to influence are showing up... but I do 
think that we would a better impression promoting the band's new 
album if the band was actually taking part in the promoting..."

"Don't worry Cliffy." Dimstar, the band's singer and frontman was 
adding eye-liner. He glanced at Harry Clifford through the 
mirror. "We'll be there in just couple of centons. Why don't you 
just relax and find your way to the grog tables."

Harry Clifford eyed the dirty-blonde, messy-haired lad coldly. He 
didn't like the way Dimstar acted and he sure as hell didn't like 
the way the boy looked. Especially tonight, as the lad was 
wearing such ghastly silver-colored platform shoes, ridiculous 
flared trousers with silver 
buttons, a tight, shiny shirt a la 5th millennium, and to top it 
all, a pair of idiotic old-fashioned sunglasses the size of IFB 
receivers were hanging on a chain around his neck. Jesus!

"Fine. We'll be waiting for you. Don't forget to turn up." Harry 
Clifford eyed his protégés once more and then walked out of the 
dressing room, softly closing the door behind him.

Dimstar stared after him.

"How about getting a new producer." He murmured. "Cliffy is just 
about as exciting as an Aerian hay bale!"

"Hold on here!" Nicael, the band bass player, ran his fingers 
through his bleached hair, trying to make the fringe to stay at 
the back. It fell right back on the forehead.

"Harry Clifford's the best producer there is. Just because he's a 
wry fracker doesn't give us a reason to get rid of him. Not if we 
want to succeed with this album..."

"Uhhh, I dunno..." Dimstar was already concentrating on other 
matters such as examining the eye-liner artwork. "Whadda ya 
think... Should I have chosen the light blue instead of this 
sparkling gray..."

"Hell no!" Nicael grimaced. "Pale blue makes a person look like a 
retarded owl! Always go with darker colors my friend! By the way, 
perhaps we should cancel the gig on the prison barge. I'm not too 
thrilled about..."

"No way!" The band drummer, Oscar paused fiddling with his 
drumsticks. "That's the gig that'll bring us the most publicity! 
Playing in front of a bunch of criminals... Hell, we're going to 
be the legend of the fleet!!"

"Oz, you're forgetting that 'Parbon Skyline' already played on 
the barge two sectons ago! Not to mention a couple of other bands 
before that!" Dimstar grinned. Such a catchy grin too.

"Yeah, but 'Parbon Skyline' and the others only played in the 
cantina. They don't let the worst mass murderers in the 
cantina..."

Nicael sighed dramatically. "Oh Oscar! Sometimes I wonder if 
there are any brain cells left under that mat of brown curly 
hair. The cantina is exactly the same place where we'll be 
playin'..."

"Yeah, but that's Harry Clifford's doings!" Dimstar smirked. 
"Without that hay bale we could have gotten a better deal! I say 
we get rid of that bugger..."

"Hey dimwits! Take a moment to consider the facts here..." A 
stout girl with short brown hair threw the Taurus Digest she had 
been reading back on the glass table and stretched with a yawn. 
"If we get rid of Harry Clifford there will be no prison barge 
cantina gigs left to argue about. Clifford's the only producer 
who has ever managed to get shows organized on the barge..."

"Charley the always sensible." Dimstar smiled. "Okay lads... and 
ladies... End of subject. Let's make an entrance and blow the 
minds of people who matter. Yo, Jamey! Toss me the earrings will 
you!"

A lad with dark, short hair and a misleadingly silent manner 
lifted his eyes. "You look better without the earrings Dimmy. 
Don't spoil the entirety."

"Hey Dim! Are we going to play the six-song set like we 
discussed? I think we should start with 'Farside'..."

"We'll start with 'Violet'. Dimstar finished applying the make-up 
and admired the results in front of the mirror, smiling 
satisfied. He ruffled with his hair so it would look even messier 
that it already did, then pouted his lips and posed for himself. 
"We'll do the slower-four-beat version."

"Oh well, you're the boss... And I guess the slower-four-beat is 
better than doing the swingy thingy..."

"Hey guys..." Oscar smirked. "Why don't we do a slow bossanova 
version with a swinging bridge! That'd be cool!..."

"Frack off Oz!"

The band drummer bent down just in time to avoid a flying 
harmonica swirling across the room.

* * *

Okay folks. So what is this 'Otherside' then.

'Otherside' is the most controversial underground act in the 
fleet at the moment. Their music, that is considered to be 
psychedelic explorations to existentialism and to the darker 
meaning of creating art, has brought them both enemies and 
fanatical followers, yes, but most of all fame.

Their wild gigs and contentious quotes in interviews have been 
the talk of the Comptel ship for at least a sectar now. And then 
of course, there is Harry Clifford.How could a band possibly go 
wrong with a producer of that quality.

Harry Clifford is the one who has managed to organize 'Otherside' 
gigs on all the best locations on the fleet's ships: The Taura-
Arena, the Velvet Lounge of the Rising Star, the Scorpio Hall, 
where Nicael got carried away and trashed his bass, only to 
realize a centar later that there was no way he could afford to 
buy a new one. Thank god for Harry Clifford and his connection 
with the Comptel Slidger Ltd. the band didn't have to cancel the 
whole tour.

The Aerian Assembly Hall gig was magic, the Aquarian Angst & 
Elegance was so and so.
The Virgon Spiral was totally shit since Nicael decided to trash 
his new bass only to piss off Harry Clifford. And then...Then 
there was the Piscean Party Pit where Oscar decided to do his 
famous solium-man imitation, but this time without the sock! The 
security staff went crazy and the concert was canceled right 
after the first song. Oscar ended up spending the sleep cycle in 
a Piscenians jail for indecent exposure.

Harry Clifford is also the one that has always succeeded in 
getting the band to doing interviews in such meaningful shows as 
'The Dig Issue with Derek D' and 'Give me a Break'.

And then of course, Harry Clifford is the one to be thanked for 
'Otherside' finally getting a record deal with the IFB FCC, which 
is exactly what tonight's party on the Scorpion was all about. 
The release of 'Twirls of Distance', the debut album with an 
image of orange-green swirl of petals on the cover.

Dimstar would have wanted to change the psychedelic petal-swirl 
into an image of purple circles symbolizing the eternal search of 
the mind, but the Comptel Print Co was out of purple.

The president of the IFB FCC had named 'Otherside' as the next 
Beatles (Yes, unfortunately those guys are still famous all over 
the universe) while the broadcaster and the executive producer of 
the IFB late night show 'Give me your little finger' declared the 
boys as being the new Marilyn Manson (Yep! Those guys are pretty 
famous too) and destroying the souls of teenagers of the fleet.

So far, 'Otherside' themselves have expressed no opinion on their 
debatable success.
The band simply claims to be ready to take the future as it 
comes. Most preferable sex, dekar and psychedelic pop.

Okay, back to the dressing room.

* * *

"Oi! Pass me the ambrosa bottle Nic!" Oscar extended his hand 
towards the bleached mop of hair. "I'm in need of something 
refreshing before stepping into the lion's mouth."

"You mean BARRELS of something refreshing..." Nicael smirked and 
took a sip from the bottle before handing it over to Oscar. "This 
is already the fourth bottle that your hand is reaching out for! 
Careful there Oz or you'll end up snoozing off behind the drum 
kit..."

"Right guys!" The widely smiling Dimstar who was still 
scrutinizing himself in the mirror, stroke another pose, put on 
his sunglasses and blew a kiss to himself, then turning to face 
the others with a beaming grin.

"Okay fellas! It's finally time for the world to witness the 
birth of a legend!..."

* * *

"Galactica shuttle requesting permission to land on the 
Scorpion..."

"I'm getting too old for this." Boomer was sitting on the window 
seat, eyeing the approaching lights of the Scorpion landing bay.

"The place is going to be overcrowded with freaks and crazed 
teenagers from hell. Even thinking about it makes me start 
reaching for my walking stick..."

Apollo, who was sitting next to the aisle, turned to give Boomer 
a grin.

"Calm down buddy. It's only an album release party, not a rock 
concert. There'll be no teenagers to pester you, I promise! Just 
IFB folk, music press, invited guests, a couple of gatecrashers, 
a few refreshing games of pyramid and us, thanks to me being the 
commander's son and Starbuck taking shameless advantage of 
that..."

"Yeah well, it still sounds like something I could easily spend 
my evening without. This is not exactly something I had in mind 
when you guys called and insisted for a hang-out..."

"Hey now buddy. A party is always a party." Starbuck glanced at 
Boomer and grinned. "A game of pyramid is always a game of 
pyramid. No matter where the stuff takes place..."

"Hmmm..."

"Believe me Boomer." Starbuck poked his friend with his elbow. 
"You'll gonna have to time of life tonight. Just trust me..."

They had left Starbuck's and Apollo's quarters approximately 
twenty centons ago, planning on spending a fun night out since 
today had been Boomer's last working day on the Rising Star.

Yes. To Starbuck's utter relief, Boomer had finally come to a 
decision to quit the stripping and re-join the military.

Starbuck and Apollo did go to see Boomer perform a couple of 
times, but every visit only ended up in unpleasant feeling of 
awkwardness. Boomer always felt awkward showing his family jewels 
to Starbuck who in fact is the only person Boomer really wanted 
to show those jewels to, and Starbuck always felt awkward seeing 
them. Apollo just felt awkward.

So... as far as Starbuck was concerned, tonight was the 
celebration of Boomer finally having come to his senses, and the 
fact that there just happened to be an album release party on the 
Scorpion was only a nice extra trimming to it all.

As Starbuck said: A party is always a party, no matter where it 
takes place.

* * *

45 centons ago, when they had still been in Starbuck's and 
Apollo's quarters getting ready to leave, Apollo struggling with 
his dress uniform medallion in front of the living room mirror 
and Boomer lying on the couch sipping his grog from the only 
clean cup in the room, Starbuck had emerged from the bedroom, 
making Boomer almost choke on his beweridge.

"Oh no. Please don't tell me you're going to wear THAT!!" Boomer 
had gasped for air.

"What's wrong with it?" Starbuck had grinned and turned to admire 
his reflection in the living room mirror. "It looks just fine to 
me!"

Horrified Boomer had stared at the glittering platform shoes, 
flared trousers, and the tight, orange shirt that had left none 
of Starbuck's chest muscles to imagination.

Apollo had forgotten he had been holding the dress medallion and 
it had dropped to floor.

"Starbuck, you're not going to leave the quarters in that clown-
costume!"

"Of course I am." Starbuck grin had turned, if possible, even 
wider. "It's an album release party for Sagan's sake. Everyone is 
going to be wearing this kind of stuff."

"Great!" Boomer had sighed, deeply, agonized. "That's just what I 
wanted to hear. Now I'm really looking forward to all this!"

"You guys think I should wear my hair on a ponytail." Starbuck 
had turned to study his profile in the mirror, holding his hair 
at the back. "Or perhaps I should cut my hair..."

"Starbuck, all people will be too busy getting over the shock of 
seeing you in that outfit! I don't think anyone notices your 
hair..."

"I'm definitely in need of another grog." Shaking his head with 
disbelief, Boomer had arisen from the couch and started towards 
the kitchen.

"Good idea Boomer." Apollo's partly frowning, partly amused voice 
had lingered after him. "Bring me one too... In fact, bring me a 
double!"

* * *

Now, sitting in the shuttle on their way the Scorpion, Boomer was 
relieved as frack that in the end Starbuck had finally come to 
his senses and decided to change his outfit.

"...Or they wouldn't have let us board this shuttle!" Boomer's 
eyes were still on the approaching landing bay lights.

"I shouldn't have listened to you guys." Starbuck frowned. "Look 
at this worn-out dress uniform. Could there possibly be anything 
less imaginative than this!"

Apollo tried to hide his smile.

"Look at it this way Starbuck. At least now you won't have to 
worry about being chased by the fashion police."

"Very funny. Your choice of expression just kills me..."

"Buck up Bucky..." Boomer murmured. "...Or you'll be chased by 
the fleet security police."

"You guys shouldn't be allowed to drink grog..."

The shuttle was now only 25 metrons from the Scorpion landing 
bay. The captain was apparently one of the newly graduated ones 
since the vehicle started descending with a noticeable vibration 
and had difficulty keeping the delta balance.

Starbuck poked Boomer and grinned. "I have a feeling this is 
going to be my lucky night."

Boomer sighed. "I vaguely remember hearing that line somewhere 
before..."

"Hold on a centon Starbuck..." Apollo gave a surprised glance at 
the blond warrior. "I thought you wanted to go to this party 
because of the band..."

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Star grinned. "Oh no, not in the 
least. The band is just a nice little trimming to something far 
more important."

"What?" Apollo raised one eyebrow. "Boomer having re-joined the 
military?"

"Gambling." Starbuck's twinkling eyes lingered on Apollo and 
Boomer.

"Tonight, my dear friends, I am going to get rich..."

The shuttle landed with an unpleasant bump. Starbuck was sure his 
butt was going to ache for sectons after this.

A stream of un-smiling passengers with metallic passes attached 
to their tunic fronts, lined out of the shuttle and made their 
way towards the bay elevators.

All of them were wearing official colonial garments, mostly IFB 
capes and green tunics.
Starbuck would never admit it to Apollo or Boomer but he was in 
fact thanking the Sagans for not happening to be wearing the 
flares and the silver platforms.

It took them about fifteen centons to reach the sigma level. The 
lounge where the party was held was right opposite the elevator 
corridor.

Apollo, Boomer and Starbuck had hardly entered the lounge as a 
waiter was already there, holding a tray of ambrosa glasses, 
serving the guests with a pleasant smile on his face.

"Thank you Jeeves..." Starbuck grinned as he took a glass from 
the tray. "Now, this is what I call service..."

"Thank you sir. May I wish you a pleasant evening."

"Yes, you may." Boomer smirked after the waiter who was already 
on his way to vanish into the crowd.

"Why don't we take a little stroll around and see who's here." 
Starbuck suggested, his eyes already searching for the pyramid 
tables.

"Perhaps we will even run into the band and we can get their 
autographs on our chests... Hey! Watch it buddy!!"

"I'm very sorry." The man who had bumped into Starbuck turned 
with a genuine apologetic smile.

"I hope I didn't make you spill your drink..."

"No you didn't mate." Starbuck grinned. "It seems my drink is 
still alive and well in the glass..."

Starbuck paused. Where the hell had he seen this man before?? 
Those green eyes and the blond, curly hair.

He turned to Apollo. "I could swear I know that guy from 
someplace..."

Apollo glanced up. "I think that was Astral. You remember. Lomas' 
friend. The guy he used to refer to as 'his angel'..."

"Yes, of course!" Starbuck's eyes lingered back to Astral inching 
his way through the crowd. "No wonder he calls him angel. That 
guy sure does look like one. You think he's had any contact with 
Lomas..."

"No, I don't think so." Apollo mumbled thoughtfully. "Not after 
what happen in the hearing..."

"I should've known I'd find you guys here..."

Interrupted, Starbuck and the others turned.

A short-haired, lieutenant-uniformed bloke was fighting his way 
towards them, holding a parbon juice glass in his hand above his 
head.

"Barton! The fleet celebrity!" Starbuck grinned. "How does it 
feel to be the hero who shot the man-slaughtering monster from 
Caydra..."

"Cut it out Starbuck." Barton grinned. "So, what are you guys up 
to... OUCH!"

"Excuuuse me mates... Sooorrryy..." A striking mop of white hair, 
white skin and loose clothing was trying to cram his anorectic 
figure past Barton and Starbuck, who immediately recognized 
Nicael of 'Otherside' from having browsed through an occasional 
copy of 'Zound' when having spent uneventful duty centars in the 
launching bay.

'Zound', of course, was the weekly music magazine published by 
who else, the IFB.

Starbuck casually watched the white-haired celebrity for a micron 
and then turned back to Apollo, Boomer and Barton.

"So... err... How about those pyramid games!?"

Nobody was listening to Starbuck.

"I wonder if there has been any improvement in Lomas' condition." 
Apollo was still eyeing the far-away Astral, lost in his 
thoughts. "It's such a shame what Baltar did to his son..."

"Incest." Boomer mouthed, not really meaning to say anything 
aloud. "No wonder Lomas is tormented. I'm glad he's getting help 
on the Sagittarian..."

"What? You guys haven't heard!" Barton glanced at Apollo and 
Boomer quite surprised "Lomas was released from the Sagittarian 
two days ago."

"WHAT!" Starbuck almost dropped his glass of ambrosa. "Jesus 
Christ! Don't tell me those monkeys someone might refer to as 
Sagittarian doctors have let that dangerous lunatic go free!"

"Yeah, they have." Barton nodded. "Apparently there wasn't much 
more that could've had been done for Lomas. And I think they 
needed the room for a new patient..."

"Why, oh why didn't those idiots move Lomas onto the Prison 
Barge!?!..." Starbuck raised his disbelieving eyes towards the 
ceiling.

"Perhaps they didn't think it was necessary." Barton raised one 
eyebrow at Starbuck's reaction. "Why ask me anyway for Sagan's 
sake! How would I know! Go and ask the man himself! He's right 
here in the Sigma lounge somewhere as we speak..."

"By the lords of Kobol!" Starbuck frowned and covered his eyes 
with his hand. "Please tell me this is all just a bad dream..."

* * *

No Starbuck... I'm sorry ladies and gentlemen but... Yep! 
Lieutenant Barton is telling the truth. Lomas is once again a 
free man.

After spending two sectars on the Sagittarian, Lomas was once 
again released and, instead of being so predictably re-placed on 
the Piscean, the fleet accommodation committee chose to move 
Lomas to the delta sector of the Scorpion, where he has been for 
the past two days now.

Not much to tell about the time Lomas spent on the Sagittarian. 
Boring stuff.

Two sectars of psy-medical sessions, cranial nerve simulation, 
brainwave calibration, experimental alterwave hypnosis, psycho-
babbling with the doctor with thick eyeglasses... All that 
useless feldercarb. Two sectars of vulnerability, aimlessness, 
emptiness...

Oh please. Now you're all shedding tears I see...

Here, have a fumarello. It's not that bad. You all know Lomas has 
always been a survivor.

Anyway.

Nobody really knows what happened with the silent one.

For all the time on the Sagittarian, Lomas has not spoken one 
word about Vega. Not one word.

Perhaps there is nothing to tell. Maybe Vega was just another 
meaningless milestone in the long line of disappointing people. 
Who knows...

Who cares.

* * *

Apollo put his hand in Starbuck's shoulder. "Hey, don't take it 
so hard buddy." Apollo gave a supporting smile. "Perhaps, in some 
way, somehow, Lomas really has changed! Perhaps he has 
finally come to find peace inside his mind..."

"Sure, and daggits have wings." Starbuck rolled his eyes. "Oh 
well. Let's find the gambling decks! I'm in need of an enriching 
pyramid game after all these good news!"

* * *

Daniel had three drinks. That was quite enough for one night. Not 
many people had such will-power. Daniel knew how easily people 
could be destroyed by fame, and only because 
of their weakness. So easily could one be enticed to the alluring 
world of being famous. The 
world of false beliefs of being everlasting, undestroyable. 
Untouchable. So few were ready for that kind of power. Fame was 
for the ones with the strength to handle it. The ones like 
Daniel.

The lights turned dimmer. Daniel's glanced at the stage. Yes, he 
was right. The roadies were finishing up. The band was apparently 
about to start their set soon. Daniel didn't care about music. He 
wasn't here to pay homage to 'Otherside. 

Oh no.

He was here to make an impression on the people who mattered... 
Like Harry Clifford.

Daniel had really invested a lot on this evening. It had taken 
him three centars to get ready.

First he had taken a long, hot turbowash. Letting the scent of 
wildflower absorb into his skin, enjoying the warmth relaxing  
his muscles and thoughts. It was important to feel relaxed. It 
gave an impression of self-confidence. Such an important feature 
in the world of fame. Without self-confidence you only remained a 
shadow.

Daniel knew he would never remain a shadow.

Trying out different outfits was the best part in getting ready 
for making an appearance.
This time Daniel had ended up on a simple gray shirt, a pair of 
well-fitted black trousers and a black jacket that complemented 
his lean body. The shoes were important. One should never 
underestimate the importance of foot gear. They were the ones to 
reflect the real appearance of a person.

Hair was not to be underestimated either. A simple, stylish cut 
was always the best choice for any man with the desire to be 
noticed by the right people. Daniel had brushed his light-brown 
hair in front of the mirror for ages until it really shone. Then 
he had added a touch of hair spray to keep the completeness 
unfaulty a little longer. Just a touch though. Too much hair 
spray made one look cheap.

Wearing make-up was optional. Yes, it could be a completeness to 
the desired image, but it could also so easily destroy all 
credibility. One should be very careful with make-up.
Daniel knew he didn't need any. He would make the perfect 
impression anyway.

Daniel licked his lips to make them shine in the dim lights and 
took his pose to suggest he was concentrating on enjoying the 
performance of the band. A good pose was always 'a must'. The 
right person could cast an accidental look anywhere, any micron. 
One should never underestimate the power of first impressions.

"Excuse me but where are the turbowashrooms?..."

Daniel turned. He had never seen such pale eyes before.

"It's right next to the main entrance." Daniel gave a controlled, 
practiced smile. You never knew who could be the right person. 
"You can't miss it."

"Thanks." Lomas' tranquil waterpond eyes lingered on Daniel 
perhaps a micron too long before he walked away.

Daniel stared after him.

A man with importance, Daniel was sure of it. Such uncommon 
maneuvers could not be possessed by just anyone. That was a man 
his mother would have been proud of.

Daniel smiled.

* * *

The commander of the Scorpion, sire Akhael, had no intention of 
spending his whole evening in the Sigma lounge. Strolling around 
IFB folk, exposing his hearing to some feldercarb that 
couldn't even be called music. This was just a goddamn waste of 
time. Oh, but he had a mission, he had to attend this party. 
Besides, he was a commander. He had duties.

Akhael's gray eyes lingered indifferently on faces of the crowd 
but then he spotted a beautiful, wavy-haired man walking past. A 
beautiful man with an aura. A man that would definitely be needed 
by the circle of Orion.

They would have to get him.

Yes. Perhaps soon after the awakening...

The beautiful man halted. Suddenly his face turned pale and such 
a shocked look appeared into those waterpond eyes. Lomas had 
noticed his angel.

Frack! Frack! Frack! Astral turned his eyes away from Lomas as 
quickly as he possibly could but it was already too late. Lomas' 
presence had captured him. All those sectars that Astral thought 
had made him stronger and indifferent. Two sectars, less than a 
micron apart.

Lomas didn't even feel himself move. So suddenly the angel was so 
close, the face of beauty so near, yet millions of hectares away. 
There they were, two men, standing face to face in a middle of 
the crowd that wasn't even there.

Together. Alone.

"I...I didn't know you were..." Astral was completely lost for 
words. All he could do was to drown in Lomas' eyes. Why for 
Sagan's sake did that man have such an affect on him. The guy was 
a monster, a murderer. Dangerous.

Lomas took Astral's hands, so afraid to continue. So scared that 
the angel would fly away.

"Why did you never come to see me on the Sagittarian, Astral?" 
Lomas' eyes were immensely sad. "Not a night has gone by that I 
haven't thought about you... longed to see you..."

"I didn't... I don't..." Astral had no idea what to say. His eyes 
were lingering somewhere between Lomas' chin and his right ear, 
so hard trying to avoid those pale ponds of water.
So afraid of the look in them.

"Don't be frightened of me my beautiful." Lomas voice was so 
gentle it made Astral shiver.
"What you see in my eyes is what I am. A tormented man. No Sagan, 
no devil."

Astral didn't want to hear this.

"Don't be afraid to look into my eyes Astral." Lomas was now 
merely whispering. "There lies no insincerity in them. No fire of 
hatred. And if you look into my heart you will see pain, yes, but 
honesty too. In my soul, see the ashes of darkness, the torn 
petals of disappointment but do not close your eyes from seeing 
the first rays of the new rising sun of my hope..." Lomas 
squeezed Astral's hands a little harder. "Look into the 
humaneness and the faultless of being a man. Can you see the 
perfection and purity of my love for you."

Astral couldn't answer. There were no words existing in the 
universe. All meaning was in silence. Lomas let go of Astral's 
hands and touched Astral's lips so softly, so frightened, then 
finally finding enough courage to pull the angel so close to him 
and give his eternal love in a kiss.

Sire Akhael didn't turn his eyes away...

* * *

Dimstar's feet were beginning to ache. Wearing the platforms 
wasn't exactly a picnic but if achieving the desired image meant 
a little extra suffering... to hell with it. Looking good was 
always worth pain.

Well... Yeah well, Dimstar still felt like he had been strolling 
around the packed Sigma lounge for thousands of yahrens, casting 
overly pleasant smiles at the guests and exchanging the 
occasional polite sentence with IFB reporters, the last one being 
the infuriating Gregory Dickinson from Comptel co.

Dimstar glanced at the preparations taking place on stage. The 
roadies were finishing testing the cords. Apparently it was 
starting to be show-time in a couple of centons. Time to get to 
the stage and start the set.

Dimstar eyed around the Sigma lounge trying to spot Nic and the 
others. He couldn't see shit from behind the sunglasses...

The maker was leaning against the bar, looking at Dimstar with a 
little smile on his face.
How ridiculous the lad looked. Platforms, flares, sunglasses... 
Oh for Sagan's sake. That outfit made even the triad costumes 
look like haute couture.

The maker took a sip from his glass. He was still too excited 
about the little work of art he had performed in one of the back 
rooms before the party in the Sigma lounge had begun. Shit, he 
had to calm down or he might give his real persona away. People 
were not always quite as stupid as they appeared to be.

The maker smiled.

Yes, definitely not stupid but usually damn blind.

How many of those people saw him every day, performing his usual 
duties, saw him taking part in the fleet's so-called normal 
social life... They were all so blinded by his surface of 
calmness. His presence of stability. How they all looked at him 
every day without seeing a thing.

The maker took another sip. He noticed three familiar faces 
approaching. Time to become what they all saw...

* * *

"Damn, it's hot in here!" Starbuck panted. "If I had known that 
there would be no gambling decks on the Scorpion I would've 
stayed in the quarters watching the Inter Fleet Broadcasting 
instead of cramming myself in this can of sardines!"

"It's just as crowded on the Rising Star..." Apollo smiled. 
"...And I haven't noticed that would have kept you away from the 
pyramid decks there!"

"But that's just it!" Starbuck smirked. "There are gambling decks 
on the Star. That makes a HUGE difference!"

"You're incurable Starbuck." Apollo raised one eyebrow. "You'll 
be lurching to the Star with your walking stick when you're 
ninety and betting your last retirement cubits ..."

"I'd rather believe that we'll have found our way to the Earth by 
then..." Starbuck grinned.

"...Or some other place if my father is to decide... Ooops! I'm 
so sorry!" Apollo turned to give one of his most charming 
apologetic smiles at the person whom he had bumped into by 
accident. "It's so crowded here one can hardly breathe 
without..."

The face that he saw made Apollo forget how to speak.

"Don't worry about it." The man's voice was so low and soft it 
was almost inaudible, and before Apollo had even had time to 
recover from seeing this inhumanly beautiful face, the night-time 
eyes and the black hair that had framed the most mysterious pale 
features had disappeared into the tumult of people. Apollo could  
no longer spot the man no matter how hard he tried.

"By heaven's Starbuck! Did you see that?! Did you..."

"What?" Starbuck turned. "See what?"

Apollo kept opening his mouth like a fish on dry land but no 
noise came out.

"What??" Starbuck's eyes were on Apollo who was still staring 
into the crowd of people, completely lost for words.

"What's the matter with you Apollo!?" Starbuck raised one 
eyebrow. "Someone stole your wallet or something..."

Apollo succeeded in creating something that he thought was a 
smile on his face. To Boomer it looked more like a grimace. 
"What's the matter with you?"

"Err... Nothing." Apollo mumbled. "I just... I saw something..."

"Well by the looks of it, it must have been a ghost..." Boomer 
stared at Apollo.

Starbuck did too.

"It was nothing." Apollo smiled, now a lot less insanely. "I just 
saw someone I thought I knew. That's all..."

Bullshit, but how could you tell the your loved one that you had 
just seen the face the you hadn't even been capable of dreaming 
about yet the same face that your heart has yearned to see since 
childhood. How would you describe the eyes that were so dark they 
have seemed to be holding the secrets of your unspoken wishes in them.

Would you know the words to explain to the one in your heart that 
you had just met someone you would never, ever forget. Someone, 
who has always been with you. A person whose silhouette would be 
tattooed into your eyes for as long as you would continue living.
From that micron on, Apollo knew that the face of midnight would 
forever haunt him.

For it always has.

"It was nothing." Apollo smiled. "Nothing at all."

"Sure..." Boomer was still eyeing Apollo incredulously. "Nothing 
at all, huh... "

Apollo didn't even hear Boomer mumble. He didn't hear the band 
start playing the sweet melody of 'Violet', nor did he feel 
Starbuck taking his hand and kissing it softly. Apollo didn't see 
Boomer trying to look away with sadness in his eyes. He didn't 
even realize the lights in the Sigma lounge suddenly going out.

"What the frack!..."

Total darkness. Stunned buzz of voices from all around the unseen 
kept growing louder and louder.  People started pushing and 
shoving each other, stepping on each others' toes which caused an 
avalanche of curses.

"Apollo? Is this yours?" Starbuck squeezed the hand that he was 
holding on to.

"Who else's could it be?" Apollo half amused, half piqued murmur 
came from the darkness beside Starbuck.

"What happened?" Boomer's very surprised voice from beside 
Apollo. "Did the Scorpion hit something?"

"The cylons attacked! We're under attack!!" A hysterical male 
voice from a bit further away. "We're being attacked!"

"Calm down you idiot!" A heck of a lot more calm voice from 
somewhere a little closer.

"Ladies and gentlemen..." A pleasant voice from the loudspeakers. 
Apparently one of the party organizers had found his way to the 
stage and was now speaking into the microphone. "I think we only 
have a little power cut here..."

"If we have a power cut then how in the hell does your microphone 
work!" A sarcastic female voice next to Boomer.

The lights came on.

Everyone was staring at each other, pale-faced and not having the 
faintest idea what had just happened... Well, except the lights 
having gone out...

Harry Clifford was indeed on stage, holding a microphone in his 
hand, trying to come up with a logical explanation to it all.

Dimstar was sitting on the edge of the stage, his eyes lingering 
over the crowd. To Starbuck he looked nothing like the pictures 
in the 'Zound'.

"I can't believe he's wearing those sunglasses..." Apollo 
mumbled.

Someone screamed. A penetrating shriek that froze the blood in 
Boomer's veins.

The thing lying on the floor near the backstage door had no 
face...

Not one but TWO dead bodies!" prison barge head criminal 
investigator Peter Kohn found it very hard to believe. "Are we 
talking about a DOUBLE killing here..."

It was two centars after the incident and the PVU still had no 
plausible argument nor any kind of evidence leading to how the 
murders in the sigma lounge had taken place.

"We have to start with presuming that one person killed both of 
the victims." Assistant officer Samuel Dexter spoke. "It would be 
a little too co-incidental that two killers just happened to 
strike at the same party at the same time..."

"Has the FFC unit reported to have found any fingerprints on the 
bodies?" Peter Kohn cut in.

"None whatsoever." Dexter glanced at the older investigator. 
"Both of the bodies were as clean as sanitized particle 
accelerators..."

The two men turned as the office door opened and doctor Wilker 
stepped in.

"Good evening-cycle sirs." Wilker smiled warmly. "Presumably 
there is no need to waste time so I will get to the right to the 
point..."

Please do." Chief investigator Peter Kohn nodded.

Doctor Wilker took a moment before he began detailing his view on 
the autopsy results.

"The methods used in these killings are totally different from 
each other. If we take a look at the younger one of the victims, 
the unknown one..." Wilker handed a picture to investigator Kohn.
"... We immediately notice that the face of the victim has been 
removed. Completely peeled away..."

"Jesus!" Investigator Dexter grimaced over Kohn's shoulder.

"...But in the case of commander Akhael..." Wilker handed Kohn 
the other picture.
" ... We are looking at a victim that has unquestionably died 
from poisoning."

"What about those stabbing wounds on the commander's neck, arms 
and chest?..."

"They have apparently been done after the victim had died." 
Wilker replied. "The thing I can't figure out is the meaning of 
those stabbing wounds. I mean, they seemed to be in a particular 
scheme." Wilker looked up. "...But then of course I could be 
wrong."

"No, there really seems to be a pattern in that stabbing..." 
Peter Kohn looked at doctor Wilker. "But for Sagan's sake... Who 
in the names of the lords would have had time to kill both men, 
peel the face off the other and then do a series of stabbing on 
the other on. Hell, the lights were gone only about five 
centons..."

"This doesn't make any sense." Investigator Dexter nodded.

"There must have been more killers than one..." Peter Kohn 
glanced at his assistant. "What about the blackout? Any idea how 
the blackout was set off?"

"The main switch in the dynamo at the end of the corridor where 
the stage dressing rooms was evidently been tampered with. The 
segma-wire is ragged and..."

Peter Kohn's  eyes lingered on the younger investigator. "The 
wire was damaged? How in the hell were the lights managed to be 
turned back on if the wire is broken?! Using higher physics..."

"No no. The segma isn't completely broken, it's still very much 
operational. But there are clear marks revealing that someone has 
pulled the wire out of its socket and then put it back in 
again..."

There was a knock on the door.

"Excuse me Peter..." The head of the secretary of prison barge 
criminal investigation sector peeked in. "...but there is someone 
on the telecom for you. He didn't tell me his name..."

"Thank you Connie." Kohn mumbled and walked to the telecom on his 
table. Kohn picked up the receiver, listened for a couple of 
centons without saying a word and then placed the receiver back 
down again. He looked at the others in the room.

"I think that is all for now doctor Wilker." Kohn smiled, 
surprising the frack out of everyone. "We all appreciate the help 
you have been giving us and undoubtedly we'll be in touch with 
you later... Dex, will you accompany the doctor to the door..."

Samuel Dexter eyed Peter Kohn. "What was that telecom call 
about?..."

"Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow." Kohn's false smile 
lingered on his assistant. "Why don't you too take the rest of 
the night off and go back to your quarters for a good night's 
sleep. I think we can all use some sleep, don't you..."

"But..." Dexter stared at the chief investigator, puzzled. "We 
were supposed to..."

"There's nothing more we can do tonight, Dex." Kohn continued 
smiling. "Go now and enjoy yourself for a change..."

Dexter thought for a micron. He sensed there was something wrong, 
something strange going on, but... Hell, it wasn't every night 
that a criminal investigator could take some off.

"You're right Peter." Dexter grinned. "Let's get out of here!"

"Err... Why don't I finish up here." Dexter mumbled without 
looking at Dex. "You go ahead... There's a shuttle leaving in 
five centons."

"All right Peter. As you say..." Samuel Dexter grabbed his 
uniform jacket and started towards the door. "See you tomorrow 
Pete..."

"Nighty night." Investigator Kohn was already deep in thinking 
land so he barely noticed Dexter leaving. "Turn off the lights as 
you go..."

"Sure Pete!"

Soon the PVU-office was bathing in soft darkness. The voice on 
the other end of the telecom-line kept lingering in the silence.

Investigator Kohn didn't like to be threatened.

"You don't need to know anything Peter." The voice had a 
strangely hollow echo, like it hadn't been a human voice at all 
but a flow of digital beta waves distorted with a gamma 
sequencer. The kind that was used to purify the background in IFB 
news broadcasts.

"Leave it, Peter. You don't want to know who we are." We... So 
there were more people involved in this than only one 
psychopath...

"Look in the mirror Peter. Do you like what you see? Do you like 
the color of your eyes..."

Alone in the dark, investigator Kohn could so well bring back to 
mind the smoothness in the hollow voice in the telecom. The weird 
pleasantness. "Do not try to see the truth Peter or your eyes 
will be gouged out."

The call had ended.

Now there was only silence.

Silence was good. It gave Peter Kohn more room to move around in 
his thoughts.

The Scorpio Sigma. The very moment before the lights had gone 
out. Investigator Kohn tried to re-live the moment using what the 
party-attending people had stated at the PVU interrogations.
He was so hard trying to find something in the painted words that 
would slightly open the curtain of the complete picture. The 
false picture.

Why two victims. Why had the killer, or killers chosen those 
exact two men. An unknown civilian man with a Piscean insignia. 
The commander of the Scorpion, sire Akhael. Two men that seemed 
to have nothing in common.

Something wasn't right. During the alleged time of murder, the 
victims had been too silent.
One would suspect a person to be screaming his lungs out when 
being harmed, but no one in that party had heard anything. Not 
even a sigh of pain. Nothing.

How in the hell had the killer managed to wipe all the blood off 
his hands before the lights had came back on... Perhaps... Yes. 
What if the killer hadn't been there any more at the time the 
first body was discovered. It wasn't too dark to see one's way 
out through the stage doors. Eyes got used to seeing in darkness 
in mere microns... And then again, what if there had been two 
killers... This did not make sense.

What about the strange telecom call...

Why would someone take such a stupid risk by calling the criminal 
investigation sector to make a threat. Everyone knows the call 
could have been traced... Peter Kohn's eyes widened in the 
darkness. The call had been traced! Everything taking place on 
the prison barge was digitally stored into the memory of 
"Atticus", the central computer.

That was the last thing to enter investigator Kohn's mind before 
the ax 
came down.

* * *

"Uh oh!"

"What?" Apollo turned to glance at Starbuck. "What??"

"You got the key Appy?"

"No. You said..."

"I don't have it." Starbuck gave an apologetic smile.

"WHAT?" Apollo stared at Starbuck. The blond man's face was 
slowly turning into a smirk.

"Only kidding!" Starbuck grinned and pulled the key out of his 
pocket.

Apollo gave him a glare.

"What a night" Starbuck sighed as he pushed the key into the lock 
and turned. "But fear not my darling. I have already solved the 
terrifying murder mystery."

"Oh?"

"Indeed!" The grinning Starbuck glanced at Apollo as he pulled 
the door open. "I know who the killer is."

"Is that right, Sherlock." Apollo was trying to hide his little 
smile as he followed Starbuck into the quarters.

"Easy." Starbuck smirked. "It was our friend Lomas all over 
again. The guy obviously decided to let his juices flow... err, 
what did he use to call them again... rivers..."

Apollo took off his dress cape and placed his dress cape on the 
back of a chair.

"No, I don't think that's very likely Starbuck. Not even Lomas 
would be that crazy to jeopardize his freedom so soon after being 
released from..."

"...The fleet madship." Starbuck completed Apollo's sentence and 
headed towards the turbowashroom. "I think he is. Besides..."

"Why don't we talk about this tomorrow Starbuck. I'm really kinda 
tired and as you said, it's been a feldercarbish night..." Apollo 
pretended  to yawn and covered his mouth with the back on his 
hand. His eyes lingered to the dark space outside the window. The 
mesmerizing face of the beautiful stranger was staring back at 
Apollo. The stranger with the eyes of midnight.

Starbuck was whistling in the turbowash. Apollo didn't hear it. 
He wanted to drift in the darkness, fall closer and closer to the 
dream from his childhood.

* * *

The corridors on the opal part of the Scorpion were narrower, 
much narrower than on the other parts of the ship, and the 
lighting was different too. Instead of a row of ugly and all-
revealing fluorescent lamps that decorated most of the corridors 
of the Scorpion, the light bulbs on the ceilings of the opal 
corridors were dark blue, creating a shimmer that the Scorpios 
liked to call dark light.

The metal door at the end of the last corridor had no carvings on 
it, nor did it make any sound as it slid open and revealed a dark 
chamber. It was forbidden to look around but Damon always did. 
They were all veiled in black capes. All faces were hidden. 
Sixteen men, no-one speaking. All personalities hidden.

One of the faceless shadows stepped out from the circle of Orion. 
It was his turn.

Damon's eyes followed the lean figure walking softly to the 
middle of the chamber and kneeling down beside a naked body. The 
chant of the thousand moons became a little louder, a little 
faster.

The figure raised his hands and slowly brought down the hood that 
had been covering his personality. For a passing centon Damon 
could see a pair of immense, dark eyes. Almost 
black. Such white skin. Such frightening beauty. Night-black 
hair, shimmering in the candle light. Damon was holding his 
breath.

Enticed, he watched as the man bowed down and kissed the face of 
the dead person before him.
Frozen face, but probably still warm against the lips. Damon 
could almost feel the warmth in his imagination.

The dark-eyed man took the silvery dagger of offering from a 
small podium next to the body.
The podium was surrounded by eleven blue candles. The man lifted 
his hood up, and once again he become just a faceless shadow. 

Now Aeon could have been any of the sixteen men in the chamber of 
Orion. Damon still did not escape the pale beauty he had just 
witnessed for a passing moment.

The doors of the chamber slid open and an old man with gray hair 
and a blue commander's cape walked in. Damon almost choked on his 
saliva.

Except for Damon, the other fifteen men in the circle of Orion 
keeping their veiled eyes strictly downcast as the old man walked 
to the podium next to which the dark-eyed man was kneeling.

Horrified, Damon stared at the man who had just walked in. He was 
the man whose body was lying on the floor beside the podium.

* * *

"I can't believe this! I just... I can't believe this!!" 
Assistant officer Samuel Dexter was pacing around the PVU office. 
"Damn you Peter! You never should've asked me to leave... I never 
should've..."

Dexter lifted his eyes as the door of the office opened and yet 
another man in a criminal investigator's uniform stepped in. "And 
who are you...?"

"Jesus Christ! What is that thing..."

"Sir, may I advice you to keep at least two metrons away from the 
marked area until I have finished examining the body..."

"No worries doctor Wilker. I'm not really looking forward to 
getting acquainted with that thing anyway." The blond man in his 
mid thirties, who had just stepped into the office eyed the 
remains of Peter Kohn's head on the floor. "Thank Sagan I didn't 
have time to eat supper..."

"Assisting chief investigator Terence Stanton I presume..." 
Samuel Dexter started approaching the man with his hand extended. 
"I'm Sam Dexter, Peter Kohn's assistant. Thanks for coming at 
such short notice..."

"Yeah well, goes with the job..." Investigator Stanton gave one 
of most charming grins and shook Samuel Dexter's hand. "Please, 
call me Terry."

"Thanks for coming at such short notice... Terry." Samuel Dexter 
smiled. "As you must have been informed, you are taking over 
Peter Kohn's latest murder case..."

"...The Scorpion double killing." Stanton ended the sentence. 
"Yes I'm very aware of the situation. I studied some of the files 
on my way here. I'm also taking over the investigation concerning 
the death of Peter Kohn." Stanton's eyes studied Sam Dexter. 
"Have you found the possible murder weapon?"

"Yes." Dexter replied. "No fingerprints on the ax, nor on Pete's 
body. No fleet insignias carved onto the axes handle..."

"How in the hell did someone get past the prison barge guards and 
the surveillance system, succeed in killing an investigating 
officer in his damn office without anyone noticing and then being 
able to disappear again without a trace!! Is this what you 
monkeys call maximum security..."

The six uniformed men in the PVU office immediately decided not 
to like Terry Stanton.

"Have you idiots even tried to betaordinate the surveillance 
tapes?"

Samuel Dexter hesitated. "Ummm. The one that was used for 
recording after eleven has been stolen..."

Terence Stanton kept his disbelieving glare on Dexter for a 
while, then he took his time slowly walking around Kohn's body, 
eyeing it. "Okay, so what about the telecom call that came into 
Kohn's office sometime between ten and eleven? I presume the 
calls on this ship are traceable..."

"We have nothing on that call." Junior PVU officer Pixton 
coughed. "Atticus has been provided with false data."

"Atticus?" Stanton looked up at the young, freckle-faced man.

"That's the prison barge central computer, sir." Pixton 
stammered. "Someone has managed to distort the original 
information and replace it with unreadable codes..."

"Is that so..." Terence Stanton's face suddenly turned to a dark 
smile. "Gentlemen, it looks like we have something here after 
all..."

Samuel Dexter stared at Stanton. "We do?"

Terence Stanton raised one eyebrow. He didn't bother to answer.

Samuel Dexter watched Stanton walking to the desk and taking a 
pack of fumarellos from one of the drawers. "Errr... 
There's...errr.. one more thing..." Samuel Dexter swallowed, not 
wanting 
to continue. "The body of commander Akhael has... errr... "

"What?" Stanton lit the fumarello and looked up. "Has what?"

"Err... Disappeared..."

* * *

Damon closed his eyes and opened them again. Nothing changed. The 
old man whose body was lying next to the podium was still very 
much alive in the room. Damon almost burst out laughing, he was 
so sure he had gone crazy.

Commander Akhael knelt down beside his own body and took the 
dagger from the dark-eyed man who was holding it on the palm of 
his hand. Damon stared dazed as commander Akhael sank the dagger 
into the chest of the body.

His own chest for frack's sake!!! Damon couldn't believe this! 
And such strange words the old man was whispering. They didn't 
make any sense. Damon swallowed.

Strange language that was calling the awakers of Orion. Words 
that were praising the power of the ancient ones. 
Incomprehensible yet clear words that frightened the shit out of 
Damon.

* * *

"WHAT?!!" Stanton blasted. "What the bloody feldercarb..."

"The body of..." Dexter stuttered.

"Yeah, I heard that you idiot!" Stanton frowned. "When?"

"Umm... I think..."

"Oh for Chrissakes!" Stanton threw his arms in the air. "Stop 
thinking and tell me when was the
disappearance of the body noticed!"

"When the night shift med-technicians arrived, I think it was 
sometime around eleven..."

"So the disappearance was discovered after Kohn's body was 
found?"

"Actually... "

"Was Kohn aware of this disappearance?"

"No..." Dexter was now avoiding Stanton's stare. "In fact, the 
med-technicians found Pete's body after..."

"So those two incidents are most probably connected." Stanton 
sighed. "Or then again, perhaps not..."

"Sir?"

"Never take anything for granted Sam." Stanton was puffing his 
fumarello, not looking at Dexter. "That is something I've come to 
learn the hard way."

Everyone's wary eyes were on Stanton who was now strolling around 
the room, seemingly having forgotten about the fumarello in his 
hand. After a couple of centons, Stanton suddenly turned.

"Gentlemen..." Stanton smiled. "Let's call it a night, shall 
we... "

"What?"

"You heard me Sam."

Without saying anything more, Terence Stanton walked out of the 
room.

* * *

Commander Akhael raised his eyes and let his gaze sweep over the 
sixteen men in the dark chamber. Damon shuddered violently. The 
eyes of commander Akhael were completely white.

Damon wanted to scream. He wanted to get the frack out of there 
but like in a nightmare, the whiteness from those eyes started 
streaming out of the sockets and cascading all around the room. 
Whiteness, that somehow made it impossible to move. Damon was 
sure he was having a terrible nightmare but his eyes were not 
closed.

Slowly, so slowly, the whiteness formed into a forest full of 
pale shadows. The kind that appear only on the most colorless, 
forlorn days.

Someone was approaching Damon from behind the leafless trees. 
Someone with a face of a ghost. Damon saw the face of the unknown 
side of himself. He screamed.

The ghost moved closer to Damon and took his hand in the 
moonlightless dream. Moving without sound, he led Damon deeper 
and deeper into unconscious awareness.

And Damon saw red.

Red.

Nothing else. Not for a long time.

Then gradually violet. A touch of restlessness, but not yet 
anxiety. Slow streams of violet. Diffusing into the red like 
smoke into air. Slowly, slowly disappearing. Turning the red 
darker. Bluish red, like coldness. Can you hear the secrets from 
the unknown side, Damon." The ghost spoke. "Listen..."

Quiet breeze. Vast moments, passing eternities of nocturnal 
whispers. Evanescent eons of unsettled tranquillity. Waves. 
Ripples. The lakes of what has been are speaking. Telling the 
history of what is yet to come.

White snowflakes are falling.
Slowly. Everlastingly.
Momentarily.

Winter-time.
Night-time.
On the planet that brings the dead to life.

Damon's eyes popped open.

Frantically he looked around in the dark chamber of Orion.

The eleven candles surrounding the podium of offering had 
extinguished. The body of commander Akhael lay on the floor in a 
pool of blood, covered with eleven stabbing wounds.

The old man with the eyes of whiteness was gone.

* * *

The prison barge cantina was closed for the night but Terry 
Stanton had had the key to let himself in.For a while he had eyed 
around the silent, dark hall and then walked to the 
nearby table to sit down.

Solitude was a good place to start if one wanted to look for 
answers. To look for answers you need to start with the 
questions. You need to go through the facts...

Terence Stanton closed his eyes to concentrate.

Two bodies. One found near the stage doors in the sigma lounge 
right after the blackout, the other in one of the back rooms 
about half a centar later when the party had already been 
canceled and the investigation team was searching the place.

Neither of the victims had made any sound. Either they had both 
been killed in the back rooms and the faceless one then dragged 
into the lounge for a reason, or...

What if the victims had not been killed during the blackout at 
all.

Two completely different killing methods.

One victim lacking his face. Obvious cause of death were the stab 
wounds scattered around the chest and the area very near the 
carotid artery. Stab marks on the other victim too, noticeable in 
a formation, but the cause of death was without any doubt organic 
poison. Okay. Either the killer was an extraordinarily sly son of 
a daggit or there were two killers.

Terence Stanton sighed. He forced himself to concentrate in the 
flow of his thoughts. How he craved for a cup of coffee but there 
wasn't much of that stuff lying around on the prison barge at 01 
centars at night.

What about the aftermath...

An unknown caller.
An unexpected violent death of the investigating officer and one 
of the body's disappearing from the autopsy room. Why? Data 
deleted from the main computer... Now if there were two killers, 
which one would be the one to feel threatened...

Interrupted and annoyed, Terence Stanton looked up as he heard 
the door of the cantina being opened.

* * *

"The gig was shit!" Dimstar took off his sunglasses and eyed his 
band mates challengingly.

"Not only did the damn lights go out and someone was murdered 
right under our damn noses, but Oscar screwed up with the damn 
bridge to the damn C-section of 'Violet' and Nicael kept 
forgetting the damn words to the damn backing vocals and broke a 
damn string during 'Farside' so we had to play the rest of the 
damn songs without the damn bass.

"Calm down Dim." Nicael grinned.

"Calm down, calm down..." Dimstar panted. "Would you want to calm 
down if one of the dimwit roadies had screwed up with connecting 
the damn cord leading from your damn guitar to the damn 
amplifiers and caused them to blow up in the middle of your 
favorite damn song after which you have to end the damn concert 
half way..."

"'Starway' isn't my favorite song." Nicael smirked. "Besides. We 
would've had to end the concert half way anyway since the PVU 
came to investigate the murder..."

The Delta lounge of the Scorpion was almost empty. Dimstar and 
the other members of 'Otherside' were sitting at a corner table, 
sipping their grogs, trying to put off going back to their 
quarters since none of the band members were tired.

"But whatever you guys say about the gig..." Nicael was still 
smirking. "At least my purple velvet jacket with the glittery 
collar was pretty far out!"

Jamey's eyes lingered on the jacket that Nicael was wearing. "I 
don't know... It's got sanitation ship written all over it..."

"Cut it out you dork."

"You two dorks cut it out!" Charley tossed a napkin at Nicael.

"Well I'm off to get another grog..." Oscar pushed the chair away 
from the table and stood up. "...And a currant croissant. Anyone 
else want one?"

"No." Dimstar's eyes casually followed Oscar walking towards the 
bar, then noticing a young man with curly dark hair and a face 
pale as snow stumbling in to the lounge and falling onto the 
nearest seat by the entrance.

Damon noticed some guy with idiotic clothes eyeing him. In normal 
situations Damon would've been self-conscious and ill-at-ease for 
being observed but this time he was much too shaken to care.

Damon buried his face into his hands and tried to forget about 
all this shit he had gotten himself into. Trying to forget the 
horrible white eyes of the man that should've been dead for 
Sagan's sake.

He didn't notice Jolly and Giles passing him, chatting, grinning. 
Making their way to the table near the windows.

"It's somehow different than others." Jolly was saying. "I 
haven't seen a planet quite like that anywhere else. It's... too 
colorless."

"I dunno..." Giles mumbled and took a chair. "To me it looked 
just like any other unknown place in the middle of nowhere. I'm 
kinda getting used to these weird planets..."

Jolly grinned. "Sounds to me like you are going to volunteer for 
tomorrow's patrol to that weird white planet..."

Giles raised one eyebrow. "Oh? And since when exactly have I 
started to appear like the volunteering type..."

"Since tonight." Jolly smirked. He let his gaze linger casually 
around the lounge to perhaps spot a familiar face.

Damon was slouching a bit further away, looking ill. Jolly felt a 
sting of concern noticing the lad. He was just about to mention 
something about it to Giles when he noticed someone's eyes on 
him.

"Jesus!" Jolly poked Giles. "Look at the clothes on that guy..."

Dimstar's eyes had paused on the two pilots who were grinning at 
each other. A stubby one and a sexy one. Horrible uniforms! Thank 
Sagan Dimstar had once upon a time kept his head and never 
followed his grandfather's last wish to join the military.

The stubby one noticed Dimmy's gaze. Bored with the world, 
Dimstar looked away.

* * *

"There are no markings of the planet in the map..." Tigh glanced 
up at Adama. "As far as this piece of paper is concerned, the 
place does not exist!"

Adama was staring at the white planet on the beta side of the 
Galactica. The command bridge was quiet and deserted since it was 
sleep cycle for most officers. Night-time duty-shift seldom 
required more than five or six operatives present and tonight was 
no exception.

"The map is obviously wrong." Adama mumbled to the stars outside. 
"Not everything in space is documented with detail. Perhaps this 
part of the Galaxy is more or less unknown to long-distance 
travelers..."

"Perhaps we should ask Omega to run a scanner check on the planet 
for organic inhabitation before sending patrols down there..."

"Omega is off-duty tonight." Adama turned to look at Tigh. "We'll 
run the scanner check tomorrow."

A grin spread on Adama's face as he took Tigh's hand. "Come now, 
my dear. My bra is killing me..."

* * *

It was 02 centars night-time and the Audra deck of the Scorpion 
was deserted. Aeon didn't pay any attention to the two men 
standing face to face in the shadows near the corridor leading to 
the launching bay. So lost in his own world of thoughts, Aeon 
walked past Astral and Lomas, 
heading towards the elevators. Astral couldn't believe how 
unnaturally beautiful the man was.

Shiny, black hair falling softly on the shoulders, glimmering in 
the faint light of the deck. The night-time darkness creating 
such frightful contrast against his pure, white skin.

Those immense brown eyes were not eyes at all. They were 
mysterious gates into beauty that could only be known from the 
other side. It was so hard to look into those eyes without 
believing in fairy tales.

"He's mesmerizingly beautiful isn't he..." Astral tried not to 
stare.

"Yes." Lomas was lost in those green eyes of the man he loved 
more than life. "So very beautiful, but nothingness compared to 
what you are my angel."

Astral's heart skipped a beat.

Lomas took Astral's hands and kissed them both, still staring 
into the green eyes.

"Thank you for sharing this moment with me. " Lomas said softly, 
sincerely. "Thank you for not having turned away from me tonight 
for you could have destroyed me..."

"Lomas, please..." Astral swallowed. "You're making me 
uncomfortable..."

"I'm pleading for you not to fly away from me now, my love." 
Lomas' voice was quiet. "I know you are not ready to fully let me 
into your life, but..." Lomas closed his eyes. "Without you I am 
nothing. Please, I'm begging you give me a chance to show you 
that I can be what you want me to be for I truly have changed..."

"Lomas..."

"All I'm asking from you Angel..." Lomas looked into the green 
eyes again. "...That you let me spend time with you. That is all 
I ask..."

Astral smiled, shyly. Embarrassed. So much wanting to run away 
from this situation, so frightened of Lomas but still so unable 
to move.

"Just a cup of coffee tomorrow morning on the Piscean... in the 
cantina..." Lomas' eyes had turned desperate. "Please, my 
love..."

"All right." Astral swallowed. "A cup of coffee in the cantina, 
but..."

Lomas took a hold of Astral's chin, forcing the man to drift away 
into the pale pond of water. Making him shiver. Frightening the 
feldercarb out of him.

Fracking hell, why couldn't he just turn away from this man and 
go on living his uneventful, unintimidating life. Astral was 
furious with himself. He didn't believe for a micron that Lomas 
could've changed. People just don't change like that. Especially 
people like Lomas...
Lomas lips met Astral's.

Astral closed his eyes. He was lost.

* * *

Solitude arose from the chair as Aeon stepped into the darkness 
of his quarters and closed the door behind him.

Without switching on the lights, Aeon walked over to the window 
and remained standing there, his back turned to the darkness in 
the room, dim starlight creating a shimmer on the inhumanly 
beautiful face. Lonely face.

For centons did Aeon just remain standing there, striped by 
shadows. Then he turned.

He walked over to the bed, pulled off the covers and blankly 
looked at the promise of nightmares that lay there awaiting. Aeon 
was afraid of those dark dreams. He hated the chaos he saw hidden 
in them. He feared the truth about existence those dreams were 
created to reveal. Death was only a word. Just a word.

Astral was ecstatic.

He was horrified.

Walking down the deserted corridor to his Piscenians quarters, 
Astral kept grinning to himself like an idiot. He didn't know 
whether to obey his fear and run like hell away from Lomas, or to 
just give into this sweet, sweet, painful tumult of emotions that 
was making his heart burst.

They had parted soon after the kiss. Lomas so much yearning to 
not let Astral go, Astral fighting the urge to follow Lomas to 
the end of the world.

"I have to go, Lomas." Astral had whispered with a choked voice 
when their lips had parted but had still remained lingering so 
close, still caught in the hurting moment of magical splendor.

Forcing out those words had demanded so much more willpower than 
Astral could ever have imagined. It would have been so easy to 
surrender. To give in to the excruciating longing in the heart.

"Damn you Lomas!" Astral was cursing half out loud while walking 
down the hallway, his heart singing with joy. Singing such 
beautiful melody that it made Astral want to scream so he 
wouldn't hear it. "Damn you!..."

Five lamps were broken in the next corridor.

Obscurity intensified.

Astral was digging into his pockets to find the key.

A pale face appeared from the shadows.

"Ali..."

"Shit!" Astral jumped at least five metrics in the air. "For 
Sagan's sake Damon! You frightened the pogees out of me!! What 
the feldercarb are you doing sneaking in the corridors at this 
centar..."

Damon walked closer so Astral could see him in the light. The 
fear in Damon's brown eyes made him shudder. "Shit! Damon, what's 
wrong..."

I've been waiting for you Ali..." Damon's words were hardly 
audible.

"Waiting for me...?" Astral stared at the younger man, his heart 
still bumping because of the scare Damon had given him. "What's 
the matter honey?..."

Damon tried to come up with meaningful words.

There were none.

"Something happened to me, Ali..." Damon's terrified eyes 
lingered on the walls of the dark hallway, not meeting Astral's. 
"Something that freaks the shit out of me."

Astral took a hesitant step closer, then reached out to pull his 
friend into a comforting embrace. The other man turned away and 
stepped back. "Honey?" Astral's eyes were on Damon, now worried 
as hell.

Damon walked a little further away and remained standing there in 
the shadows, his back turned to Astral. Centons passed until he 
spoke again.

"You're my friend Ali. My best friend..." Damon smiled to the 
darkness. "Ever since they moved me from the Celestra to the 
Piscean, from the first moment we met" Damon paused. He turned. 
"...You have been like a brother to me, Ali. That is why I'm 
reaching out for you now..."

"What is it honey?" It frightened the feldercarbs out of Astral 
to see Damon like this. "You know you can tell me anything..."

Damon smiled but the smile was more like a grimace. "I'm guilty, 
Ali. Guilty of participating in Akhael's death."

"What?!" Astral's widened eyes stared at Damon.

The events that had taken place on the Scorpion earlier flashed 
past his eyes like a nightmare.
The terrifying faceless body...

Astral swallowed.

"What for heavens sake are you saying, Damon."

* * *

Lomas was perfectly happy right where he was. Lying alone on the 
narrow bunk in his tiny scorpion quarters. Still centars before 
the morning cycle was to arise. Still an eternity to go 
until tomorrow night when he would be able to see the face of the 
angel again.

Though Lomas missed Astral so terribly that every micron apart 
seemed like torture, at this very moment he somehow had 
everything his soul would ever yearn for.

There, in front of his eyes, in the bleak light that surrounded 
him, in the remains of his heart...

There was belief.

There was Astral.

Lomas did not want to drift to sleep yet. He didn't want to miss 
a micron of this newly-found agonizing rapture in his being. He 
fought to keep his eyes open to be able to watch as beauty was 
cascading into the room, turning the gloomy place whiter...

Lomas flinched.

The white had Cree's face...

* * *

"It wasn't a murder, Ali. I'm no murderer." Damon's sad eyes did 
not falter from Astral's as he spoke. "Neither of us are..."

"Us? What the..." Astral had difficulty remembering how to 
breathe. "Oh Damon. What for heaven's sake have you gotten 
yourself into..."

Damon smiled again. A forlorn smile.

"I better start from the beginning, shouldn't I..."

* * *

"Starbuck." Apollo turned his head a little so he could look at 
the lump next to him that was Starbuck under the covers. "Hey 
Bucky..."

"Hmmpff..." The lump moved, just a little. Then nothing.

"STARBUCK!"

"Frack Apollo! I'm trying to sleep here!"

Apollo reached out and turned on the bedside lamp. The vague 
shadows that had reigned the walls of the starlit room vanished 
in the sudden golden light.

An annoyed, shaggy head appeared from under the blanket. "For 
Sagan's sake Apollo, have you happened to glance at your 
timepiece..."

"Starbuck, I just had the strangest dream..."

"WHAT!" The shaggy head frowned. "Don't tell me THAT is the 
reason why you wake me up in the middle of..."

Apollo turned to look at Starbuck. "When I was a kid, I found 
something in my father's library..."

Starbuck gave Apollo a glare that he could hopefully remember for 
the rest of his life. "It's quarter past 04 centars sleep cycle, 
for frack's sake! This is no time to discuss literature!!..."

"Shut up Starbuck. It was sort of a legend..."

"Let me guess. The memoirs of the oldest lord of Kobol." Starbuck 
rolled his eyes. "Okay. Why don't we get some sleep now and you 
can tell me his shoe-size tomorrow."

"Starbuck. I'm serious."

"Yeah, well. So am I..." Starbuck eyed his obviously insane 
lover.

"The legend Starbuck, it told a story of a planet with a special 
ability..." Apollo's eyes were lingering in the room as he was 
trying to remember what had been in the book. "It told the same 
exact story that I just had a dream about."

"So?" Starbuck raised one eyebrow. "That's merely basic 
psychology. The story happened to affect you strongly when you 
were a kid and now for some, possibly meaningless reason, your 
unconsciousness decided to bring it up in a dream..."

"Starbuck..."

"I know what I'm talking about Appy." Starbuck grinned. "I, too, 
was once very strongly affected by a book. It was called 50 000 
ways to become shamelessly rich. Whoever wrote that book was a 
goddamn liar..."

"Starbuck!" Apollo fought not to laugh. "I mean it! I'm serious! 
The white planet that came into the view of the Galactica 
tonight..."

There was a knock on the door.

Starbuck and Apollo looked at each other, stunned.

No man in his right mind would come to knock on their door at 
this time of sleep cycle. Unless...

"It must be something important." Apollo hurriedly climbed out of 
the bed and searched for his robe. "We might be approached by a 
Cylon squadron or worse... "

Apollo glanced at Starbuck sitting wide-eyed and butt naked on 
the bed. "Put something on Bucky..." Apollo grinned as he was 
already hurrying towards the door. "...in case it's someone 
under-aged..." Grabbing the handle, Apollo pulled open the door.

In the corridor outside stood a young boy with a grin on his 
face.

A young boy that looked exactly like Zac.

* * *

"Please tell me what's burdening you mind Damon." Astral urged, 
worried. "You know you can tell me anything..."

Damon took a deep sigh. He was silent for a moment, recalling in 
his mind how it all had started.
Recalling, how Aurora had told him about a secret cult that 
nobody was supposed to know about.
A community of believers that were rumored to have had visions 
about the things above all human knowledge...

"And how the hell do you know about this stuff." Damon had eyed 
Aurora with one eyebrow raised. "You just said that it's a secret 
cult..."

Aurora had eyed Damon impatiently. "Oh Deedee. Does it really 
matter how I found about it. Isn't it more important that I 
know..."

"I thought we shared everything Aurora." Damon had said. 
"Especially after the taking of the Celestra feldercarb..."

"We do! That's why I'm telling you about this cult Deedee." 
Aurora had sighed. "Haven't you been complaining the feldercarbs 
out of me for being so bored with your life and needing something 
to return the excitement..."

Damon had eyed Aurora. "Tell me about this cult."

And so Damon had learned about the hidden planet of Orion. Found 
out about the breath of awakers, the unknown power to bring one 
back from the dead.

Of course Damon hadn't believed shit but it had sounded 
intriguing enough so he had asked Aurora to make a contact with 
her... source.

The next night a man dressed in white had come to pay a visit to 
Damon's quarters. Not really knowing what the funny question were 
for, Damon had played along with the game and before he had even 
realized, Damon had become one of the sixteen men. One of the 
chosen ones to lead the fleet to awakening...

Astral's eyes were on Damon. "Awakening?..."

"That's the word they use for bringing someone back from the 
death." Damon smiled. "Which, of course, I considered to be total 
bullshit until..." Damon sighed. "Whatever I thought about the 
cult in the beginning, Ali..." Damon smiled sarcastically. "I 
couldn't have been more wrong."

"Wrong?" Astral realized he was holding his breath.

"The white planet of Orion exists, Ali. Tonight, a little before 
the party on the Scorpion was to start, the fleet entered a 
system called Du'yraan. We were told from the very beginning that 
this would be the moment to commit the final offering..."

"Offering..." Astral's eyes were wide.

"Stop repeating every word I end my sentences with, Damn it!" 
Damon got irritated, then fought to calm down. "According to the 
holy writings, to sacrifice himself in the final offering was be 
the duty of the cult leader. It was promised that he would be 
returned by the awakers..."

"Do you really believe in that feldercarb?" Astral was now 
beginning to find this cult thing a little ridiculous. "You can't 
wake up from death."

Damon smiled. "Yes. That's what I thought..." He turned to look 
at Astral again. "...But I was wrong. One can come back from the 
other side. The place without colors..."

* * *

"Hello Lomas." Cree beamed. "Long time no see..."

Terrified, utterly despaired, Lomas stared at the illusion of the 
boy that was standing there before him. Yes, it was no doubt an 
illusion for Cree was dead. Forever disappeared behind 
moonsilver. This was only the sickness in Lomas' head. The 
monster... "Leave me alone." Lomas whispered to the ghost of his 
mind.

Cree stared at Lomas, hurt. "I would've thought you'd be thrilled 
to see me after all this time..."

Lomas closed his eyes to get rid of the nightmare of not having 
been cured after all. "Please, Sagan. Please free me..."

"Oh Lomas." Cree seemed to be on the verge of tears. "You're 
hurting me. Why are you behaving like this?" The boy started 
hesitantly closer to Lomas. "...The way you acted when I died... 
I would have thought you'd be glad to see me returning..." Cree 
halted. He let his eyes linger on the floor for a centon as if 
gathering courage, then looked up at Lomas, the expression on his 
face puppy-like. "You're still the only thing that matters to me 
Lomas. If I had a choice I 
would die for you all over again. And even though I couldn't 
return as a whole. Not the way I used to be... Cree smiled a 
little apologetically. "...it doesn't change the way I feel... 
Nothing ever could."

Lomas wasn't able to speak. He wasn't able to open his eyes.

"You see, when I returned...the entity of me that did return..." 
Cree's sad, strangely colorless eyes were on Lomas. "...That was 
the empty side of me. I'm alive without a soul. You could never 
love me the way I am now..." Suddenly Cree smiled. A warm smile. 
"But it doesn't really matter Lomas. It doesn't matter because 
soon you will be just like me too... We'll once again be so 
alike..." Cree's face reflected the love in his heart." 
"...Together, forever without a soul. Surrounded by the chaos 
inside..."

* * *

Astral remained silent, waiting for Damon to continue.

"Akhael, our leader knew it was time. He knew his duty was to 
commit suicide so he planned to gather us all to one place where 
we would not be noticed..."

"The party." Astral eyed the boy.

"Yes, the party." Damon smiled. "Where else could one be so 
unnoticeable than in a crowd."

Both men were quiet for a centon, eyeing the floor, lost in their 
thoughts. Then Damon looked up.

"Commander Akhael, our leader, took poison to be able to pass the 
event horizon of life as we know it, but he needed us to complete 
the offering..." Damon paused. His eyes were unflinchingly on 
Astral. Wary eyes. "You must believe me that I didn't know where 
this would lead, Ali. I only did it to experience something 
intriguing..."

"I believe you Damon." Astral replied softly.

"Because..."Damon's face reflected pain now. "If I had known what 
was to follow, I would never have voluntarily consented to bring 
on something like this..."

"Please tell me what happened, honey." Astral wanted to walk over 
to Damon and take his hands but he didn't. Somehow, Damon seemed 
so distant, so cold...

"To complete the preparation for the awakening, all of us 
belonging to the circle of Orion were to leave a mark of offering 
onto our leader's chest and that's what we did..." Damon lifted 
his eyes. He wanted Astral to see the reflection of truth in 
them. "But we did not kill Akhael. Each one of us just stabbed 
him after he had swallowed the poison of ora'an. The stabbing of 
offering was demanded in the holy writings and by Akhael 
himself."

"What about..." Astral's eyes were on Damon.

"The sixteen men in the circle of Orion..." Damon continued, 
ignoring Astral's attempts to cut in. "We are faceless to each 
other. During our gatherings, our souls are clustered but our 
identities are always hidden behind masks, veils. We have never 
been allowed to look at each other." Damon remembered very well 
that he had always disobeyed that command yet he left that 
unmentioned.

"As you must realize Ali... we couldn't have shown up to the 
party wearing our capes of Orion, it would've caused attention, 
so in order to remain faceless in the offering, we needed 
darkness. That is why we organized the lights going out."

"Err, excuse me my ignorance but... how in the names of Sagans 
did you manage to perform the stabbing ritual in complete 
darkness..."

Damon smiled. "First of all, we weren't in the main lounge. The 
stabbing was performed in one of the back rooms... Hold on a 
centon..."

..."And eyes get used to darkness in microns so we could easily 
see the shadows of each other and the body of our leader." Damon 
finished.

"But..."

"That is all Ali. I swear."

"Damn it Damon. Why was the body found in the lounge, near the 
stage." Astral walked closer to the younger man, yearning to hear 
the answer. "Why for Sagan's sake was his face peeled off! Was 
that part of some ritual too?..."

"Anyone order a cheese sandwich?" The young boy grinned.

"Zak!" Apollo felt his legs failing him. He had to grab a hold on 
the door so he wouldn't collapse to the floor. "My god..."

"You don't need to call me god when we're alone together, bro." 
Zac's colorless eyes twinkled. "Aren't you going to invite me 
in?"

"...You're...But you're..." Apollo stared at the beautiful face 
of his brother whom he had missed so desperately.

"Dead?" Zac raised one eyebrow. "Do I look dead to you, Appy?..."

The room turned upside down and all outlines vanished into bright 
spots dancing in impenetrable darkness. Apollo's grab on the door 
slipped and he fell to the floor, unconscious...

* * *

Damon's eyes lingered on Astral. "That wasn't commander Akhael. I 
have absolutely no idea what happened to that poor bloke. And to 
be honest that jars my chips, but..."

"Great!" Astral frowned, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. 
"Are you suggesting that there might be more crazy cults than 
yours."

"I don't know, Ali, and to be honest, I don't even give a damn. 
Please shut up and let me finish my story. I only told you all 
this so you could understand what happened to me..."

"Shit, Damon. Who was the other body?!?"

"Shut up for Sagan's sake!" Damon through his hands in the air. 
"Listen to me, damn it!"

Astral wanted to say so much more but he remained quiet.

The legend about being able to return from death..." Damon smiled 
darkly. "It's no feldercarb. Tonight I saw commander Akhael 
returning with my own eyes."

Astral opened his mouth but there was nothing he really could 
think of to say.

"But..." Damon continued smiling. "...although it was Akhael, it 
somehow wasn't. There was nothing human in that creature I saw."

Astral was completely lost for words. He knew Damon wouldn't lie 
about anything but this was a little too much to believe in...

"Tonight, my dear Ali..." Damon sneered darkly, sarcastically. 
"Tonight, I have created a monster.

Damon burst out laughing like a lunatic.

* * *

"APOLLO!!" Starbuck saw how Apollo collapsed in the doorway. Like 
a lupus he dived to the side of his lover, his heart beating like 
crazy.

"APOLLO! ANSWER ME DAMN IT!! WHAT HAPPENED? ARE YOU ALL 
RIGHT??!!"

"Shut up Starbuck." Apollo narrowed his eyes. It hurt to look 
around in such bright light.

"What happened?"

"You tell me!" Starbuck was trembling. "Suddenly you just... 
fell!"

Apollo pressed his hands on his temples. His head was aching like 
hell. "I..." Apollo looked up at Starbuck, furrowing his brow. 
"What?..."

"What do you mean what?" Starbuck was eyeing Apollo concerned as 
frack. "Who was that at the door?"

"What?" Apollo stared at Starbuck.

"The knock, the door, remember!" Starbuck furrowed his brow. "You 
went and opened the door to someone... Who was it? And stop 
saying what for Sagan's sake..."

Puzzled, Apollo turned his head to look at the empty corridor 
outside.

"I have no idea what you're waffling on about buddy!" Apollo 
turned back to Starbuck. "Are you sure you weren't the one to hit 
your head instead of me..."

"That's it! I'm taking you to doctor Wilker!..."

"Calm down Starbuck." Apollo frowned. "My head is just hurting a 
little but I'm okay! Stop being so frantic about little 
things..."

Starbuck couldn't take his concerned eyes off Apollo.

* * *

Daniel was disappointed as frack. Some loser with a distorted way 
of finding amusement to himself had completely ruined all of 
Daniel's perfect chances of becoming famous tonight.

Why for frack's sake hadn't the daggit done his killing 
elsewhere. Now all Daniel's perfect preparations had turned out 
to be useless. The clothes, the poses, the facial 
expressions...Damn it! Daniel had been so sure...

He had noticed how a couple of important looking blokes had 
started eyeing him a little intrigued during the evening. Damn 
it! If the investigating officers hadn't come to cancel the party 
half-way, there might had been a bloody good chance that one of 
those blokes would have offered Daniel a deal of a lifetime! Now 
everything was spoiled! Fracking hell!

Daniel slipped on his green, worn-out nightgown and walked to the 
couch beside which his slippers were. He didn't see the person 
slouching behind the kitchenette door, watching 
him.

Daniel walked to the light switch and soon the quarters bathed in 
pale white light that was coming from the planet nearby. Daniel's 
rooms were on the beta side of the ship so he had an excellent 
view on the white thing. Not that he was that interested in new 
places or space travel, but one thing Daniel had to admit and 
that was the fact that the strange light coming from the planet 
sure created an elegant atmosphere in the room.

If only he had become famous tonight...

Surrounded by paleness, Daniel walked to the bed. 

The maker's eyes followed him.

He had noticed Daniel already at the party. A kinda good-looking, 
self-confident bloke with an annoying habit of touching his hair 
every five centons.

The maker never knew what it was in those people that set it off 
in him, but this boy was definitely a one to have it. The maker 
knew from the start he would have to follow the boy and take him. 
Later, when the fleet would be sleeping...

The hand of thrill had squeezed his throat...

The maker had been kind of amused as the lights in the sigma 
lounge had gone out as if it had been caused by fate to give him 
an unexceptional chance to fetch his artwork from one of the back 
rooms and bring it to the lounge for all eyes to see and admire.

It had been so easy to see in the darkness. The maker had softly 
ran to the stage door and slipped into the backstage area. The 
possibility of the lights suddenly coming on and he getting 
caught red-handed dragging the dead, faceless boy had given the 
maker such thrill it had been almost unbearable.

The blackout had, of course, turned out to last long enough and 
oh, how the maker treasured the moment when all those blind eyes 
had seen the masterpiece.

That very moment had also increased the maker's throbbing desire 
to take Apollo. Finally and with utter capitulation. The maker's 
eyes had lingered to Apollo and Starbuck who were staring 
horrified at the body in front of the stage. Oh Sagan. the maker 
could almost feel the scent of that dark-haired warrior, feel the 
taste of the flesh, the taste of blood...

He had forced his feverish eyes away from Apollo and searched the 
lounge, desperately for a target to replace Apollo, to ease his 
extreme desire. The maker had spotted Daniel again. Yes, the man 
with the annoying habit of touching his hair was to be one.

Someone had to be or he would burst...

The maker didn't feel even slightly uncomfortable being crammed 
behind the kitchenette door, watching Daniel pulling of the 
covers and climbing into bed.

Such pleasure it gave him to stare as the young man slowly 
drifted to sleep and listen how his breathing became more and 
more  placid. Oooo, it was too enticing to be there, surrounded 
by that quiet breathing. The maker almost felt reluctance as the 
time came to crawl out of the hiding place and approach the 
sleeping man.

Without making any sound, the maker moved to the side of the bed. 
The pale light from the planet made Daniel's light-brown hair 
almost completely colorless. The boy's face was colorless too. It 
looked sickly gray and the lips were blue. Funny how things 
always change with the lights...

Slowly, the maker put on his gloves, his eyes still lingering on 
the colorless, unaware face.
He took the surgical knife from his pocket and smiled as its 
blade reflected the light of white.

Beautiful.

The maker took a piece of tape. Gently, carefully he placed it 
over the sleeping man's mouth.
Daniel jolted awake and his eyes popped open...

* * *

Starbuck was the first one to open his eyes. Immediately he 
turned to look at the seemingly still sleeping man beside him.

How beautiful and vulnerable Apollo looked. Starbuck loved him so 
much his little heart was about to burst. How it had frightened 
the feldercarbs out of him to see Apollo collapsing to 
the floor like that. Starbuck would rather die than see something 
horrible happening to Apollo.

Damn how much Starbuck wanted to be sealed to this beautiful 
person that meant more to him than life ever could.

Sure, they had constantly talked about finally getting sealed, 
always making plans, giving each other promises...

And it was always Apollo's newly-ordered, unadventurous trainee 
duties as 3rd insigniated bridge commander (daddy Adama was 
obviously planning for little Appy to take over when the time 
would come) that forced them to postpone the scheduled dates and 
break the promises.

Break Starbuck's heart all over and over again.

Apollo gave a little sigh and opened his eyes. His still sleepy 
gaze lingered to Starbuck.
"What are you doing up? You never wake up this early!"

Starbuck smiled warmly. "It's not so early any more Appy. It's 
quarter past 10.00 centars."

"Really?" Apollo raised one eyebrow. "Why didn't you wake me 
up?..."

Starbuck reached out to caress Apollo's cheek softly. "I liked 
watching you sleep...You don't even realize how beautiful you 
look..."

Apollo smiled a little and then his gaze lingered away from 
Starbuck to the vague stripes of shadows slightly moving on the 
ceiling.

Starbuck was still keeping his eyes on Apollo. "Baby, what's 
wrong?..."

Apollo didn't speak for a while. Starbuck's finger was tenderly 
following the outlines of Apollo's lips. "Is your head still 
hurting?..."

"No, it's the legend I told you about last night." Apollo spoke 
absently. "The book..."

"Oh no..." Starbuck frowned. "Please don't tell me we are going 
to have that same conversation all over again..."

Apollo turned his head and looked at Starbuck. "There was a 
picture in that book..."

"Uh huh." Starbuck raised one eyebrow. "Many books tend to have 
pictures... When I finish my first novel I'll put my own face on 
the cover..."

Apollo didn't smile, he probably didn't even hear Starbuck's 
words. "That man in the old picture... The face..."

Apollo paused. His eyes lingered to the space outside. "I saw 
that man yesterday. I saw him on the Scorpion."

* * *

"Good morning Sam." Terence Stanton entered the PVU office where 
the assisting investigator Samuel Dexter already was, going 
through the matured penalty tickets for shuttle double parking, 
just to have something to do to get the last night's events out 
of his mind.

"Morning Terry." Dexter hardly glanced away from the papers in 
front of him. "How are you this morning?"

"Never been better, my friend." Terence Stanton grinned oddly, 
staring at the assistant who was sitting behind the desk. 
"Shouldn't you be having something more important to do..."

Samuel Dexter looked up. The weird grin on Stanton's face made 
him feel extremely uncomfortable. "So, err... Did you come to any 
conclusion last night?..."

"The whole mystery is solved, my dear Dexter." Stanton's grin 
widened. "Now we can go and enjoy a couple of doughnuts in the 
cantina for I have cracked everything."

"What?" Dexter's jaw dropped. He stared at Stanton. "It can't 
be..."

"Be what, Dex?" Stanton raised one eyebrow. "You don't believe 
me?"

Dexter couldn't stop thinking that Stanton looked unnaturally 
pale. "Sure I believe you but, err... How...?"

Stanton eyed Dexter amused. "Let's just say that I had some help 
from a visitor."

"Oh..." Samuel Dexter stared at the other man like he had gone 
crazy. "So, err... mind telling me what you have discovered 
then..."

Stanton grinned. "Why?"

"Err..." Dexter's jaw dropped.

"So. How about those doughnuts buddy?..." Stanton's now 
malevolent eyes were still on Samuel. "I heard there are freshly 
baked tulipian buds in the barge cantina. I wouldn't mind a 
little taste of..."

Dexter's mind was working overtime but no rational thoughts came 
out. "Terry, umm... What about Peter Kohn... Who... What was the 
conclusion you were..."

"Stop stuttering Sammy boy." Stanton snorted. "It's infuriating."

"Who killed Peter Kohn, Terry?!?" Dexter realized he had never 
disliked any man more that Terence Stanton at this very moment. 
"How did those murders on the Scorpion take place...?
"It doesn't matter, Sam. You don't need to know. It makes no 
difference." 

Stanton's smile lingered on the other man for a long, long time. 
"It doesn't make any difference..."

"What's wrong with you Terry?" Dexter wasn't even pretending to 
be not dumbfounded any more.

"Nothing Sammy." Terry Stanton's mind lingered back to the events 
having taken place last night. "Nothing at all..."

* * *

Infuriated, Terence Stanton looked up as he heard the door of the 
cantina opening. Goddamn it, he hated to be interrupted in the 
middle of his thinking process. Whoever this intruder was, he was 
going to feel it in his skin to have barged in like that.

Stanton narrowed his eyes to make sense of the shadowy figure 
that had walked in, but that didn't do much god. It was too dark. 
Stanton couldn't see shit.

"Hello?" Stanton asked, startling himself with his own voice. He 
hadn't even realized how quiet it had been until now.One gets 
used to quietude so easily it ceases to be noiselessness until 
someone or something makes a sound.

"What do you mean it doesn't matter!" Samuel Dexter was freaking 
out. "Jesus Christ Stanton! We are talking about some violent 
murders here! Are you out of your Sagan forsaken mind!!!"

"Calm down Sammy boy." Stanton was smiling. "That kind of 
behavior is bad for your blood pressure..."

"This has better be damn good!" Terence Stanton kept his 
displeased eyes on the approaching dark figure. "If that's you 
Dexter, I'm gonna put you on report..."

An old man appeared from the shadows. "Good evening Investigator 
Stanton." Commander Akhael smiled pleasantly. "Did I disturb 
something important? I apologize..."

Stanton opened his mouth, then clicked it shut again.

"I presume introductions are not a necessity." Akhael grinned as 
he took a chair and sat down next to Stanton. "I'm here to help 
you with your investigation."

Terence Stanton couldn't stop staring. Goddamn it, he had fallen 
asleep after all and was now having what was called an anxiety 
dream.

"I was the one who made that prank call to investigator Kohn." 
Akhael confessed with a smile. "You see, I came back from the 
other side a bit too early and then I really couldn't go anywhere 
since there were still people in the next room to the morgue. So 
I made a threatening call to one of the investigators just to 
pass time. Yes, that prank call was made only because of 
boredom."

This was the worst anxiety dream Stanton had so far. Perhaps he 
should take a vacation and spend a secton on the Rising Star or 
something...

"Later, when I thought all people had finally left, I sneaked out 
of the morgue planning to get away from the barge, you see, I was 
expected to attend a little ceremony from which I was already a 
little late so I crept to the corridor and then realized there 
was still one of the thick-headed investigators left. Of course, 
I couldn't take any risks that I might be spotted prematurely and 
be prevented from getting to the ceremony..." 

Akhael gave a conspirator's wink to the utterly stunned Stanton. 
"You see, I have a few disciples who were very much expecting me 
to drop by. So, I went in the PVU office and killed investigator 
Peter Kohn, you know, just in case..."

Okay buddy. You're already having this anxiety dream so why not 
play along. Stanton cleared his throat.

So, err..."What's the face thing for then?" Stanton asked calmly, 
hoping to wake up before the dream would go even crazier. "Did 
you peel off the face of one of the victims and how in feldercarb 
did you do it?... I mean, you died about the same time didn't 
you..."

"I know nothing about that." Akhael smirked. "You're the 
investigator here. It's your job to find out..."

Stanton stared at the ghostly white eyes of commander Akhael. 
They didn't look like eyes. They looked like white holes of 
nothingness.

"...But in the meantime..." Akhael smirked. "Why don't we make 
ourselves a little more comfortable..."

Paralyzed, Stanton watched as those eyeless white holes came 
closer and closer...

* * *

"Are we going to stand here all day or what." Stanton raised one 
brow. "Those doughnuts won't be staying fresh forever you 
know..."

Samuel Dexter stared at the morbidly white, grinning face of 
Terence Stanton. God he hated that man. And he was frightened as 
frack of him too. For the first time in his life, Dexter wished 
he wasn't a colonial policeman so he could shoot the bastard of a 
daggit.

* * *

"Oh Apollo!" Starbuck frowned. "You just saw someone that looked 
like the bloke in the picture. Not THE bloke in the picture! 
Jeeez, I'm beginning to worry about you. You might have hit your 
head harder last night than I thought. Perhaps we should pay a 
little visit to the sick bay..."

"Ummmm..." Apollo was lost in thoughts. He wasn't listening to a 
word.

"Who was that person at the door anyway?!" Starbuck continued, 
then poking Apollo with his hand to wake the man up from his 
obvious daydreams. "Hey!"

"What?" Apollo realized Starbuck was speaking. He looked up. 
"What are you talking about?"

Starbuck stared at Apollo. "What, don't tell me you still don't 
remember going to answer the door..."

"What door?"

Starbuck was beginning to get seriously worried. They were 
definitely going to have a little chat with doctor Wilker this 
afternoon. Apollo didn't even seemed to realize there was 
something to worry about. He stretched with a yawn, then 
remembered something.

"Hey, by the way, weren't you planning to go to the race tracks 
with Boomer this morning?" Apollo gave Starbuck a teasing smile. 
"You better start getting dressed for success Bucky. Today might 
be the long, long awaited day that turns you into a 
millionaire..."

"What race tracks." Starbuck eyed Apollo puzzled for a moment. 
Then it came to him. "Oh frack!" Starbuck cursed out loud and 
shot out of the bed. "I forgot!" He frantically eyed around the 
bedroom. "Where's my Sagan forsaken uniform! The damn betting 
stalls will close in a 
centar! I should've met Boomer in the shuttle launching bay five 
centons ago! Where's my damn communicator..."

"I'm beginning to thinks it's you who we should be worried about 
Starbuck." Apollo was grinning as he watched Starbuck hassling 
around the room. "If one of us is suffering from what might be 
the first symptoms of an early dementia and memory loss, it is 
you darling..."

"That's something we're going to have a little talk about later 
this afternoon..." Starbuck dropped down his boxers and grabbed 
the uniform from the back of a chair. "...this memory loss thing. 
I mean it when I say I'm worried about you Apollo..."

"Stop being worried you turd and get ready. I'm sure Boomer is 
already eyeing the timepiece..."

"Shit!" Starbuck rushed to the turbowashroom to start shaving.

Apollo kept smiling to himself. How he loved that wonderful man. 
They would be together forever and ever...

With a stretch and a yawn, Apollo too pushed the blanket aside 
and reluctantly crawled out of the warmness of the bed. He needed 
to pay a little visit to the library ship.

Apollo hoped that the book about the legend of Orion would still 
be there...

* * *

Hmmm. Where should he put it... Let's see...

Some of the best places on the walls were already taken but there 
were a couple of brilliant spots left for the most intriguing 
ones. The maker felt a shiver of excitement thinking about them.

So. How about that corner next to the mirror...

Naah. Daniel hadn't been good-looking enough to earn a place next 
to the mirror. That spot was deserved for Apollo. Yes, 
definitely.

Most of the faces on the walls were artificial ones, but so 
brilliantly manufactured from alphafied tri-decteron rubber that 
it was almost impossible to tell the fakes from the real ones.

In time, the maker would replace all the manufactured ones with 
originals, but that was a long-term plan. The killing of so many 
people had to be made with patience, no matter how unbearable the 
wait would be. The maker had no intention of getting caught. He 
was much too forbearing for that shit.

So, there they all were. Looking down from the walls, smiling at 
the maker without seeing him.

Cassiopeia's eyes were the wrong shade of color. Adama's face 
looked just a little too carefree for the maker's liking. He had 
seen Adama too many times to know that was not the commander's 
most usual facial expression.

Starbuck looked exactly like he always did but Apollo... Sagan 
the maker could hardly wait to get the original face. Nothing 
manufactured could ever come even close to resembling the 
magnificence of the real thing.

The face of the poor lad that had met his destiny on the Scorpion 
last night was hanging over the fireplace. Yes, the real face. 
Although not being the first of the collection, the face was 
definitely the beginning of the new era.

Oh yes, the maker had relished his nice little habit even back on 
Caprica, way before the cylons had come and destroyed everything. 
It had been way easier down there on Caprica. Way easier! Now 
living in space, on ships of the fleet, the amount of people was 
a heck of a lot smaller and if someone disappeared in the middle 
of space it would not be the most common thing to happen. The 
disappearance would undoubtedly be very much, and very 
immediately, noticed.

"Alright Danny boy. Where shall we place you..." The maker's eyes 
lingered on the walls, then Remained for a centon on the spot 
beside Boomer.

Yes. Yes. That would be the perfect choice. Two former strippers 
hanging next to each other..."

The maker grinned.

"Yeah... maybe those two'll have something to chat about..."

Surrounded by his own laughter the maker started towards the dark 
lieutenant's face.

* * *

No answer. Astral knocked again.

Damn it, the way Damon had behaved last night, Astral was now 
worried sick about him.

The lad's nightmarish revelation had sounded like feldercarb, yet 
there was something...
And the insane laughter. Shocked, not knowing what to do, Astral 
had left the insanely laughing Damon standing alone in the 
corridor and made his way back to his quarters, hoping to forget 
about everything for even a little moment.

He hadn't of course.

For Sagan's sake. First Lomas and now this! How much more could a 
man take in one night.
Exhausted, so overwhelmed, Astral had fallen on the bed and 
closed his eyes. Not for a micron did he fall asleep during the 
night.

Would you have?

Astral knocked once more.

Where the frack could Damon possibly be at this centar. There 
were no gatherings of prayer, no readings of the palm... even 
lunch-time wouldn't be due for at least two centars.

Astral's concerned eyes lingered around the corridor and paused 
on a poster near the cleaning closet doors. It portrayed a cat 
sleeping. A bowl of milk was placed next to her, a toy of  some 
kind was beside the bowl and a human hand was reaching out to 
apparently cuddle the cat.
Underneath the picture there was a text in plain black and green, 
which read: 'Let the higher meaning take care of your life. Let 
the prayer enter your heart'.

Shheeeesh, this ship was ludicrous. Astral had to get off the 
Piscean as soon as possible!

"Damon!?" Astral's mind returned to the boy. He knocked and 
shouted one last time through the door. It was useless. There was 
no answer. Perhaps Damon wasn't home after all. Astral shrugged. 
He turned and started down the corridor.

Behind that metallic door, inside the shadowy, tiny room, there 
was Damon. 
Slowly swaying.

Hanging from the ceiling with a robe around his neck.

* * *

"I'm beginning to regret coming here." Boomer's nose was running 
for it was uncomfortably cold in the race tracks areas on the 
livestock ship. They had arrived there just in time for morning's 
last Capricorn race. "It's bloody freezing in this place!"

"Then buckle up you jacket buddy." Starbuck was counting the 
cubits on his palm. "Shit. I only have seven. Can you lend me a 
couple of cubits Boomer."  Starbuck gave his friend a charming, 
persuasive grin. "I'll pay you back when I'm rich. I promise..."

"Keep on dreaming Bucky." Boomer pulled his jacket tighter around 
him. "So, which is the lucky Capricorn you are going to bet on?"

Starbuck's eyes lingered on the list of the participants for the 
11.20 centars' departure.
"I don't know..." He glanced at Boomer with a grin. "How does 'My 
Grandmother's Lucky Sock' sound to you..."

"Like something that should have been taken to the sausage 
factory ship a long time ago."

Starbuck raised one eyebrow. "Oooh, I sense a vibration of a 
challenge in the air. How about us making a bet buddy. Lucky Sock 
against the Capricorn you choose..."

"It's a deal." Boomer grinned and leaned closer to take a look at 
the list Starbuck was holding in his hands. "Okay. I'm gonna put 
two cubits on 'JR Ewing'. I feel that Capricorn might have some 
potential..."

"You've gotta be kidding me." Starbuck's eyes lingered to the 
Capricorn stables and his eyes met this old and gray, one-horned 
horse placed in one the stalls nearby. Starbuck's horrified eyes 
lingered back to Boomer. "Are you crazy! That nag can hardly eat 
his oats nowadays, not to mention run in a race. Why don't you 
bet on something more safer like 'Beaumont's vendetta'. That baby 
won the Caprican championships last yahren..."

"I like the look in JR Ewing's eyes." Boomer smiled. "I think he 
can be a winner if he wants to..."

"Oh well. They're your cubits, not mine." Starbuck sighed, but 
with a twinkle in his eyes. He took Boomer by the arm, not 
noticing how this innocent, friendly touch made a shiver shoot 
through the other man. "Come on buddy." Starbuck was beaming. 
"Let's find the betting stalls. I 
have a feeling this is going to be my lucky day..."

"Oh for Sagan's sake Starbuck." Boomer rolled his eyes. "If you 
had received a cubit every time you've said that forsaken 
sentence, you would've been a billionaire ten yahrens ago..."

"Where would I be without your delightful wit, Boomie." Starbuck 
smiled and put his arm around his friend's shoulders.

"Probably in a lot of trouble." Boomer frowned.

Neither of the men noticed as they passed a dark figure of a 
person, leaning against one of the betting stalls with his hands 
in his pockets, carefully watching Starbuck.

* * *

"Just a centon!" A very annoyed Harry Clifford struggled to keep 
the towel around his waist as he was heading to the door. "I'm 
coming damn it..."

Who the hell would it be at this centar to drag him out of the 
shower. Harry Clifford knew he had no scheduled meetings planned, 
nor had he any such close acquaintances that would come knocking 
on his door on the few mornings he had off from the Comptel ship.

In fact, Harry Clifford didn't have any such acquaintances that 
would come knocking on his door. Period.

All his relationships were half professional and always obeying 
certain ethics. Harry Clifford wasn't the kind of guy you would 
go to the cantina to grab couple of grogs with. Not unless you 
had something you wanted to accomplish, needed Clifford's 
connections to be able to do it but not wanting to appear too 
straightforward in asking for a favor. That was when you took 
your buddy Cliffy for a pint or two and talk about your newborn 
nephew if you had one.

Another knock. Jeeez, such impatience. "I'm coming damn it..."

Harry Clifford placed his hand on the handle and opened the door 
to one of his worst nightmares.

"Morning mate!" Dimstar was grinning widely. "Taking a shower I 
see. Hope I didn't interrupt you too badly..."

"Okay Dimbo, what is it? I presume this is not a social visit..."

"Harry, Harry..." Dimstar smirked. "You should think more highly 
of yourself. What makes you think I'm not here because of your 
charming personality..."

Clifford's face turned darker.

"But, I guess you're right this time Cliffy." Dimstar winked. "I 
am here for a proper reason."

"Which is?..." Harry Clifford raised one brow.

"Well, we sorta went drinking last night and..."

"Get to the goddamn point Dimstar!"

"We need a new bass guitar, Cliffy." Dimstar smiled. "Nicael 
accidentally sat on his Slidger last night when we got back to 
our quarters. It kinda broke..."

"What!?" Harry Clifford's face turned red.

"So, err, we kinda thought that you with all your Comptel 
connections, you know..."

The door slammed to Dimstar's face.

On the other side, Harry Clifford slowly let his back lean 
against the door and closed his eyes for a couple of centons to 
regain his calmness. What a goddamn bunch of idiots. The next 
time Harry was to end up in a situation where he would have to 
take on a new bunch of protégés, he would damn well make sure 
there were brain cells included in the bargain too...

There was a knock on the door.

"Go away Dimstar!" Clifford didn't open his eyes. "We'll discuss 
the bass situation later, just..." Jesus!

The knocking continued.

"For Sagan's sake..." The enraged Harry Clifford grabbed the door 
and pulled it open, ready to kick Dimstar's ass for  being a 
nuisance. The person standing in the hallway was not Dimstar.
Repulsed, struck with horror and disbelief, Harry Clifford stared 
at the thing in front of him.

"Such a pleasure to finally meet you mister Clifford." Daniel 
knew he was giving his most charming vibes. He had practiced 
these things in front of a mirror a thousand times when he had 
still been alive. "I'm going to be your next product mister..."

Daniel paused to wipe some blood away from his hand before 
reaching out for a friendly handshake. "Mister Clifford. I'm 
going to give you the honour of making me a star..."

Harry Clifford had never seen a living faceless man before.

Not even in his darkest nightmares.

* * *

The first thing Apollo saw when entering the bridge was the 
always dutiful Omega placing his uniform jacket on the back of 
his chair and then sitting down in front of the main control 
computers, starting to go ahead with the daily routine such as 
data distortion checks.

From the corner of his eye Omega noticed Apollo and turned to 
look at him pleasantly.
"Good morning captain. Another exciting day on the bridge..."

Omega grinned. He, as well as every other man on the Galactica 
who had any clue of what kind of a person Apollo was really was, 
knew that the captain would rather have continued being the 
captain of the blue squadron and going on patrols with his 
warrior friends than doing all this commander training 
feldercarb. Apollo had no intention of becoming the next 
commander. Hell no! All he would have to do now was to make his 
father aware of that and knowing Adama, even fighting the cylons 
would be a piece of mushies.

"I was just about to go and get a hot cup coffee from the 
officers' club..." Omega smiled. "Can I get you something?..."

Omega the always obliging.

"No, thanks." Apollo smiled warmly. "I'm fine. In fact.... this 
is only going to be a short visit. I'm on my way to the library 
ship and came here just to pick up the code card." Apollo glanced 
at the green data on the computer screen. "Are those the compiled 
readings from the planet we have encountered?"

Omega nodded. "I haven't had time to go through them yet but 
looking at the data now, there seem to be no hindrances in 
sending patrols down there..."

"Great."

"Captain...err, commander..."

"Yes?" Apollo turned to find the newly-recruited coordinating 
assistant Ville standing there with a cute smile on his boyish 
face.

"Captain. I'm having trouble establishing connection with the 
launching bay technical crew."

"Have you tried the gamma frequency?" Omega asked from behind 
Apollo before Apollo had a chance to say anything.

"Um, That's sort of the problem... You see, I don't seem to be 
able to change the frequency at all. There's something jamming 
the tuning pretty heavily..."

"Have you run the delta check on the B.I.T. scanner to see if you 
can find out what it is? It usually gives pretty accurate 
answers... I remember when I was your age and operating as the 
coordinating assistant on the Oidipus..."

"Weren't you supposed to have gone to fetch coffee." Apollo 
glanced at Omega, amused.
Omega pretended not to notice.

"I tried to start the delta check." Ville shrugged. "The only 
thing I got was the comp-farknell turning green..."

"Captain..." Ensign and trainee-alpha-sigmatizer Anna rushed to 
Apollo.

"Not now!"

"but sir...I can't get accurate dat-vibrations..."

"Omega." Apollo grinned. "I'll leave you in charge of all the 
problematics... In fact. I'll leave you in charge of the whole 
bridge. I know that you of all people can handle it..."

"Apollo! You can't! I'm not qualified to..."

Apollo was already on his way towards the doors.

* * *

Ortega's hairstyle was a little different. After his death he 
kinda got used to not combing his hair at all and so it kept 
sticking upwards and sideways, pointing all over the place in 
fact.Ortega liked it. The hairstyle made him look like Sid 
Vicious (Yay! Yet another space-famous earthling).

Now watching Starbuck, Ortega noticed that the man hadn't changed 
his ways at all while he had been gone. It amused Ortega to watch 
how Starbuck's eyes always started to gleam as his mind lingered 
to all the cubits that just might be there within reach...

Annoying, irritating Starbuck. Always expecting to win. If even 
once had Ortega had the chance to kick Starbuck's arse during a 
game of triad, but no. That daggit had always been too fast and 
too damn good a player.

Ortega had almost wished that it really would have Starbuck to be 
the one to have murdered him on the Rising Star instead of the 
other bloke, so the daggit would finally have gotten what he 
deserved. A life-sentence on the prison barge.

Now leaning against one of the betting stalls, Ortega watched 
Starbuck and Boomer walking towards one of the ticket stalls in 
the beta sector. Ortega couldn't help noticing that Starbuck had 
his arm around Boomer. Did those two perhaps have something 
going...

How close to Ortega those two were.

All they would have to do was to turn their heads, just a little, 
and they would notice him.

Ortega smiled.

Perhaps he should really do it. Walk over to Starbuck and make 
his presence known. Frack, it felt tingling thinking about it... 
Perhaps he should...

No.

The master, their leader of Orion had instructed... no... had 
ordered them to lay low. They were all strictly told to keep 
their presence unknown until the final gathering and Ortega 
didn't really want to contradict Akhael's request.

Time for playing with Starbuck would come later.

Oh, but it still felt so fracking tingling...

Ortega forced his white eyes away and started towards the 
swarming crowd by the race tracks.
Damn it felt good to be back!

* * *

The phi-sector of the library ship was quiet. In addition to 
Apollo who was strolling around the bookshelves looking for 
section d, there were only a handful of others. Apparently the 
sector for equivocal history and inexplicable legends was not the 
most popular area of scientific literature.

d...de...di...dis... Damn it. Where was that book. Apollo was 
absolutely sure the book had survived the destruction. The 
library ship had been hovering four hectares above Caprica for 
inventory reasons when the cylons had attacked and therefore it 
had remained unharmed.

... dit...dof...doo...There! Finally! 'Doors from the unknown' 
compiled by P.F. Williard.
Apollo grabbed the book from the shelf and eyed its cover for a 
centon. A déjà vu from childhood washed over him... Lying on the 
bed under the covers with a flashlight after Adama and Ila had 
told little Appy to go to bed... 

Turning the pages that were telling the strangest story... 
Turning over the leaf to page seventy five... And it was always 
there... The portrait of the so-called chosen one, Apollo 
remembered it so well now. It was the picture of the most 
mesmerizing face Apollo had ever seen...

Apollo hardly looked where he was going as he made his way to the 
table nearest to the bookshelves. Feverishly he started flicking 
through pages until...

Apollo's heart almost stopped as he saw it.

Slowly Apollo let the book descend to the table...

* * *

Cree wasn't there now.

At first Lomas had been afraid to open his eyes in the morning. 
Afraid to see that all this hoping, all this...yearning, had been 
pointless. That he still wasn't cured. He would never be.

At night, having finally drifted to sleep trying to escape the 
dark rivers of his mind, Lomas had traveled through nightmares 
until this moment he had finally woke up into this empty room.
A room that had now turned into a prison. Lomas had to get out of 
the quarters or he would suffocate in this desperation. He had to 
get to a place where he could forget about all this darkness and 
pain.

Lomas had to get to Astral.

Not wanting to waste any more time than had already been wasted, 
Lomas had grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair and left 
the quarters without even checking his appearance in the mirror. 
He had run down the corridors to the launching bay. For the first 
time ever, Lomas had paid no attention to any person passing him. 
A Cylon could have walked past him in the hallway and Lomas' 
wouldn't have noticed.

The fifteen centons' wait for the next shuttle to be ready to 
board passengers had been almost physical suffering. Lomas had 
held so hard onto the memory of Astral's face. The face of the 
angel. Lomas' missed him so much. He needed Astral so much.

The shuttle had landed and Lomas had rushed from the bay, ran up 
the stairs, ran down the corridors, ran like mad, until...

Someone was with Astral. A boy with dark curly hair, a stupid 
haircut and an unfitting Piscenians uniform. They were standing 
together in the corridor, ignoring the people pushing 
past them.

Lomas' heart shuddered...

Damon turned and saw a tall man with wavy hair staring at them. A 
flash of hard-to-control fury flashed in Damon's white eyes.

Astral's heart took a leap of seventeen hectares when he saw 
Lomas so accidentally in the corridor. People were still swarming 
around him, some going to prepare themselves for a centar of 
prayer, others strolling towards a cantina, a turbowashroom, a 
lounge, a launching bay or just strolling along. Astral didn't 
see any of them.

"Lo... Lomas." Astral stuttered, blushing. "What are you doing 
here on the Piscean? I was just on my way to... What are you 
doing here??"

Lomas didn't answer. There wasn't anything he could say.

Two men, one with waterponds and a heart so many times broken, 
the other with green diamonds and a shy, hopeful smile were alone 
in the universe, caught in a fleeing moment in time that to them 
would last forever and ever.

Lomas knew now that Cree wasn't there. Nothing dark was. Only 
strong, sincere love.

* * *

The first rows of page one were unreadable. Apollo cursed out 
loud. Apparently some indifferent imbecile had knocked over a cup 
of coffee or something while reading the book. Hopefully that 
person ended up having been shoved out of the airlock!

Actually...Apollo realized something.

Now holding this book in his hands, there was no need for him to 
read it.All those vivid images created by childhood imagination 
were already there, alive and intense. Surrounding Apollo in this 
stuffy library section, reminding him of the dark legend of 
Orion...

* * * 

The planet Kobol was the beginning for the human existence. The 
planet where the first lords were told to have been created.

No.

Another kind of existence was first.

An existence that later came to be known as death.

The planet Kobol was only an end of a journey. An escapade from 
the slavery of everlasting.

In the days of chaos, the rebels were plenty and their number 
kept increasing, but so far they had all remained nameless. The 
awakers could not tell them from the consenting ones.

Orion was the largest and richest trading post in the Daa'r 
galaxy. Most of the black silver that was mined in the volts of 
the secret mines of midland, ended up in the hands of Kahikian 
dealers.
Human slaves were forced to serve the lord of Sikh, the leader of 
the Kahikians. Lord Sikh was the one that had named himself 
Sagan. The highest one.

This all took place so long ago it's incomprehensible to the 
human brain. Not millions of millenniums ago, not billions of 
indescribable time elements has passed since then. It all 
happened much earlier than that.

The domain of the five white planets of Du'yraan, set in the 
galaxy of Daa'r,  have been eternally, for eternity is only a 
sequence in what has always existed.

In the domain of Du'yraan, humans had always been the slaves. 
Always, until one day when X-552 chose not to be brought back 
from the other side.

"Sounds like bad science fiction, doesn't it..." Aeon's smile was 
melancholy as he took a chair and sat down at the table opposite 
Apollo. 

Apollo could only stare.

"I knew you would eventually come to think of this book." Aeon 
spoke so softly it turned Apollo's flesh into goosebumps. "But I 
must admit it took you a little longer than I had expected..."

Apollo couldn't turn his eyes away. He just couldn't. Nothing he 
could possibly think of could ever do justice to this beautiful 
being. This... beautiful being from the book...

"I followed you here captain, because I have a little story to 
tell." Aeon smiled sadly. "It is the same little story as you are 
now holding in your hands but I can tell it to you so much better 
for I have been born with the knowledge of it... What is in that 
book is my destiny..."

"Uhhhmm..." Apollo was by now starting to feel like an idiot for 
staring but he still couldn't look away. Besides, this stunning 
man sitting opposite from Apollo was making no sense. What was in 
the book was only a legend, a fairy tale.

Or was it...

Aeon's gaze was lingering on Apollo too, making him a little 
uncomfortable.

"There is so much about the legend of Orion you do not need to 
know captain." Aeon continued. "And there are so many things I am 
not going to tell you..."

"Uhmmh..." If he could have, Apollo would've stood up and gone to 
bang his head against the library ship wall for not being able to 
act normally in the presence of this man. What the hell was wrong 
with him!!

"But I will tell you the final part of the story. The part in the 
book. The part where the rebels escape from Orion and how it 
takes them a couple of yahrens to travel through star systems 
with merciless mercenaries on their tales. Hitchhiking-hiking 
into the occasional uncomfortable cargo vessel trying to find a 
hiding place and hoping to end up on a suitable planet to 
establish their lives on, then finally running into the planet 
Kobol..."

Aeon saw the look on Apollo's face. He grinned.

"Yes I know what you're thinking. It seems like this 'fleeing 
from the this and that tyranny' feldercarb has been going on way 
before the thirteenth tribe stuff and now us. But as we all know, 
fate sometimes seems to have a distorted sense of humor... And 
isn't there a saying that history keeps repeating itself..."

It took a lot of effort but Apollo finally succeeded in smiling. 
Why for frak sake was he so paralyzed in the company of this 
person.

"... And so the fleeing continues." Aeon smiled. "After a while, 
the word about mercenaries approaching found its way to planet 
Kobol. The humans had just enough time to once again escape, this 
time to end up on the thirteen colonies, the whereabouts of one 
of which is still unknown."

"Umpf..."

"Yes, Earth." Aeon grinned. "Anyway... After planet Kobol was 
left behind, the mercenaries lost track of the humans for 
millenniums but, they never gave up the search. Yes, they are 
still out there, looking for us, relentlessly..." Aeon paused. 
His dark eyes were on Apollo. "We are actually lucky that the 
cylons found us first and not the mercenaries. If it had been the 
other way round, we wouldn't have been able to escape like we now 
have..."

"But, there were humans who escaped from planet Kobol..." Apollo 
peeped. "...And from Orion itself..."

"...Yes, but, you see, the mercenaries always learn from their 
mistakes. They always learn. And there is a possibility they all 
live forever..."

Aeon fell silent for a while, gazing at the book Apollo was 
holding, lost in his thoughts.
Then, after many centons, he finally looked up.

"The escapade from Orion is only an end of a story. A minor 
factor in the complex of which I came here to talk to you about. 
A minor detail in a continuous nightmare that you need to be 
aware of in order to understand how badly the fleet needs to 
escape the sphere of this white planet that we have encountered." 
Aeon paused, his serious eyes were on Apollo. "The planet before 
us is Orion, the white beginning of eternal existence. A kingdom 
where human souls have always been used for slavery that cannot 
be stopped from being..."

"Really." The look on Apollo's face made Aeon smile, though 
vaguely.

"Yes, I know I'm not making any sense by telling you all this and 
then adding that life itself as we know it, as far as I know it, 
started from death. In the system of Du'yraan death was first. 
Death is life but in another level. On another side... And the 
awakers were first too. The legends describes how they were born 
from death. The awakers were the ones to be the first known 
living souls in the universe of as we see it. And they are the 
ones that some of us humans consider as Sagans. They are our 
gods..." Aeon paused to smile darkly. "Ones that originate from 
pure chaos that the world of death is."

"Uh huh." Apollo stared at the crazy man opposite him.

"I do not know what is the beginning of death or is humans and 
how they ended up in the system Du'yraan." Aeon paused, then 
continued. "Perhaps they have always been there, created by some 
higher beings who might originate from death. Or perhaps the 
humans came from someplace else, from another level, another 
side... Formed from a substance unknown, developed from a 
physical and chemical reaction...That is all unknown to me, and 
not relevant to my story in any way."

Apollo raised one eyebrow.

"The relevant factor is that the existence of humans was, is, and 
forever will be, different from the one of the awakers. The human 
bodies, their souls are not created to last in one level 
eternally. The humans are to die, to transcend into chaos... 
perhaps continue from there to someplace else... Or simply stop 
existing completely."

"Really?"

"However, the awakers of Orion did not let the humans to retire 
their natural way of existing when the time came. The humans were 
brought back from what we call death."

Apollo watched Aeon's eyes lingering around the library.

"And a fact is that when a being is unnaturally forced back from 
another way of existing, distinctive, features of that other 
existence always follow along. The being is not the same one as 
he had been before transcending. The being is now a chaos of the 
so-called first level and the one that he has been brought back 
from..."

Apollo could have just as well been listening to the undeciphered 
language of Caydramen.
He had lost track of Aeon's story a long, LONG time ago...

"And, like I said, the awakers did not let the humans, their 
slaves, die. Therefore, for an unspeakably long time, the humans 
were completely unaware of their true way of being.

And so it all remained, until one day X-552 realized that the 
humans do not have to be slaves, or even brought back from the 
other side..." Aeon grinned. "...And then we get to the part 
where the rebellion groups started forming and escapade was 
beginning to be being planned..."

"The part in the book..." Apollo took a wild guess.

"Exactly." Aeon smiled. "The human slaves escaped and the awakers 
sent mercenaries after them, yes, but what I did not mention to 
you when I first started telling this story was that the awakers 
didn't have to take the chase too seriously for they knew that 
the humans would eventually return to them... You see, the legend 
of Orion had it, that a chosen one would one day be born and lead 
the descendants of the escaped ones back to the domain of 
Du'yraan to be once again enslaved. And that is what has now 
happened for I am the chosen one. The picture in that book is of 
me, created millions of millenniums ago, billions of 
indescribable time elements before I was born...

Aeon could have just as well been telling Apollo that daggits had 
wings, but still... The picture...

Apollo noticed that the man's dark eyes were now on him. Very 
serious dark eyes.

"It's important that you believe what I'm telling you captain, 
because we are running out of time. You have to lead the fleet 
away from the system Du'yraan as quickly as you possibly can. The 
awakers are already aware that we have arrived.

"Oh?"

"As it was envisioned in the prophecy, the leader of the newly-
formed Orion-cult community, in this case commander Akhael, was 
to commit ritualistic suicide at the time of D'ra. The moment of 
human outlaws entering the sphere of Orion.

That suicide was to be completed by of the other members of the 
circle to ensure that Akhael would  be received to the side of 
chaos by the awakers and be the first one to be brought back to 
gather us all together as one. Yes, to kill us all so we could be 
re-formed to fulfill our destiny as slaves."

Apollo had never heard anything this ridiculous in his life. 
"Erm...We have to launch squadrons to protect our fleet. We need 
to destroy this planet Orion..."

"No no no no no!" Aeon frowned. "Haven't you been listening to 
anything I've said. The awakers are eternal. Death is only 
another level of existence. Anyone who dies in the sphere of 
Du'yraan will return as newly formed. You need to get the fleet 
away from this place! Now!"

"But..."

"Once you have taken the ships away to safety, you can destroy 
the re-formed ones. Without the power of awakers they will not 
return and that power is only powerful in the Du'yraan system..."

"Err..."

"The aim of the awakers is to re-form as many people as possible 
and that is where commander Akhael comes in. He is to act as 
their tool. To kill..."

"This is crazy!" Apollo blasted. "This is... This is..."

"...The truth." Aeon smiled sadly. "Unfortunately this is all 
happening. There is so much more to the universe and existence 
that you could possibly ever imagine. Even my knowledge is merely 
a granule of stardust even though I was born as the chosen 
one..."

"Okay." Apollo rolled his eyes. "Erm... How were you thinking 
that I should do the destroying of the err...awaken ones..."
			
"That is where I come in." Aeon's smile became a little warmer. 
Apollo liked that smile.

"As I told you I had a destiny to fulfill by bringing you to 
Du'yraan and, oh yes, indeed I was one of the villains in this 
story... But hey! Who's to say that I should be playing along 
with that feldercarb once all the predestined is fulfilled. No 
one! And to be honest. I never liked my part as the villain in 
the first place..."

Apollo grinned. This was unbelievable.

"So, I was thinking..." Aeon reached over the table and took 
Apollo hand. Apollo flinched heavily. "...Captain. In 23 centars 
there will be a gathering of the thousand moons in 
the chamber of Orion and every one of the newly awakened ones 
will be taking 
part in that gathering, including me. So..."

"...So?" Apollo stared at Aeon, waiting. The man's touch burned 
Apollo's hand like solium fire but he didn't pull his hand away.

"...23 centars will be quite enough for you to lead the fleet 
away from Du'yraan and once the ceremony begins, all you need to 
do is blow up the Scorpion. The dead ones will not return..."

Apollo stared into those dark eyes for a long, long time.

* * *

The shuttle from the library ship would be landing on the 
Galactica in five centons. Apollo could already feel the 
descending starting. He pushed the red button on his communicator 
and dialed Starbuck's code.

"Apollo! I haven't won anything yet!" Starbuck frowned into his 
communicator as soon as he heard what Apollo wanted him to do. "I 
can't leave now! The afternoon's first races are about to start 
and I've just bet my last cubits, I can't..."

"Starbuck, get your butt onto the bridge! That's an order!"

"Apollo!!..."

"..."

"Captain! Whatever this is, can't it wait for another half a 
centar..."

"No Starbuck. When I say now, I mean now." Apollo switched off 
the communicator.

"Frack!" Starbuck frowned.

"What?" Boomer glanced at the blond pilot. "Trouble?"

"It's Apollo." Starbuck put the communicator back into his jacket 
pocket. He hated wearing those things on his wrist along with the 
timepiece and tried to avoid wearing it as often as possible.

Apollo was always lecturing Starbuck how easily the thing could 
fall out of his pocket and Starbuck could end up in a 
feldercarbish situation of not being able to contact anyone in 
case of emergency.

"He wants us on the bridge. Now..."

"An attack?" Boomer raised one eyebrow.

"He didn't say." Starbuck's disappointed gaze lingered on the 
people and Capricorn -swarming race tracks, already pining after 
the cubits he was now going to lose because he couldn't stay 
there to get rich. "But if this was about an attack I think we'd 
heard the klaxon or something..."

"Did Apollo say he wanted me on the bridge as well?" Boomer eyed 
Starbuck.

"No... Not in so many words..." Starbuck murmured, then looked at 
Boomer and smirked. "But if you think I'm going to leave you here 
alone to get rich while I'm being forced to take care of duty, 
you're dreaming buddy!"

Still not noticing Ortega as passing him, Starbuck and Boomer 
headed towards the main exit of the race tracks area. Having 
obviously made a habit of it, Starbuck once again put his 
friendly 
arm around Boomer, making the other man uncomfortable.

"Oh Boomer!" Starbuck sighed as they walked. "Why, oh why did we 
ever decide to join the military!"

Boomer glanced at Starbuck with a raised eyebrow. "Mmmm... 
Probably because knew you would have made a lousy stripper..."

"Lousy? Me?" Starbuck grinned. "Naah, you gotta be talking about 
someone else..."

They both laughed.

* * *

"Astral..." Lomas hesitated.

They were walking down the corridor leading to the Starfish deck 
and a popular Piscenians breakfast canteen. "I didn't interrupt 
anything... I mean, you were with that boy..."

Astral smiled. His heart was thumping because Lomas was holding 
onto his hand as they walked.
"Of course you didn't! That was Damon, a friend of mine. 
Originally from the Celestra, a sectar or so ago moved to live on 
the Piscean. Damon's in my prayer interpretations group."

Lomas fell quiet for a while. The sound of their steps echoed 
from the corridor walls.
"That guy didn't look exactly happy when I ran into you..."

"Oh. I don't think it had anything to do with you Lomas." Astral 
squeezed Lomas' hand. God he felt happy simply to be with this 
man. Happy and desperately confused. "It's just that Damon's been 
going through something pretty heavy and... well, I think he just 
upset about what he thought happened to him last night and he 
probably wanted to talk to me about it..."

"What happened to him?" Lomas glanced at Astral. He didn't give a 
shit about Damon's problems, he just wanted to appear 
sympathetic, for Astral's sake. 

"I don't really know." Astral mumbled. "When I ran into him 
yesterday he was a nervous wreck..." Astral looked up at Lomas, 
smiling warmly. "I had just been to looking for him in his 
quarters and then we just ran into each other in the hallway. 
Just a couple of microns before you arrived."

Lomas could have stared Astral forever. In his eyes the beauty of 
this perfect angel outshone everything else in the universe. "I'm 
so glad I did... I missed you so terribly! I had to see you!"

Astral blushed. "I missed you too."

Lomas' heart could've burst with happiness.

Smiling, the two men walked down the rest of the hallway and 
entered the plainly decorated Herring lounge of the Starfish deck 
. There was even now a little line in front of the canteen doors 
although breakfast-time had ended centars ago.

Still holding onto Astral's hand, Lomas led the angel to the menu 
placed near to the canteen entrance. No one paid any attention to 
a dark, curly-haired lad joining the end of the line.
Damon didn't take his white eyes off Astral for a micron.

* * *

"Where's Ville? We need him to operate the delta sequencer..."

"Shouldn't you be discussing these changes with the council 
captain? Or at least with commander Adama..."

"I can't get the balancer working. It's giving me 1,662 degree 
false readings..."

"Try it with alpha omega..."

"Or with G509Fdsd..."

"Apollo, shouldn't you wait for Adama?..."

"What's going on here?..."

Apollo turned to see Tigh entering the bridge priority area. "I'm 
leading the fleet away from  system Du'yraan, colonel."

"System what?"

"The star system we are in right now. Umm, I'm sorry I don't have 
time to explain..."

The doors of the main entrance slid open and Starbuck and Boomer 
stepped in. 

"Apollo, what's going on?..."

"Where the frack is Ville?? I can't define the data on the delta 
sequencer!!..."

"Starbuck!" Apollo turned and smiled. "I need to talk to you in 
private..."

Omega span around in his chair. "Apollo, I've now inserted the 
5,16 degrees angle into the CVF files. The Galactica should be 
starting to incline in seven microns..."

Great! Thanks Omega..." Apollo walked over to Starbuck and took 
him by the arm. "Come on Bucky. Let's get out of here..."

* * *

Harry Clifford was whistling while walking down the corridor to 
the IFB financial department.
He had never felt better in his whole life.

And he had a plan.

After he had...errr... taken care of the on-duty cash keeper, he 
would take a little commission from the safe and... Hell, he 
earned the commission! After putting up with nuisances like 
Dimstar he sure as frack did! Dimstar! That clown! And the other 
clowns! Harry Clifford frowned. Perhaps, after fetching his 
deserved little commission, he should indeed pay 
a little visit to dimwit and the other dimwits on the Scorpion. 
Yes... 

A smile started spreading on Cliffords face, then it froze.

No!

Harry Clifford frowned again realizing that if he now went and 
killed those clowns, they would return to live forever in the 
circle of Orion and he would have to bear those jokes of artists 
for an eternity to come. Harry Clifford did not want that! Hell 
no!

Damn it.

Oh well...

Picking up with the whistling again Harry Clifford took a couple 
of Fred Astaire-esque (indeed) steps and threw his make-believe 
silk hat to an edge of a...well, something, like in old movies.

"Smells like teen spirit." Daniel smiled from the shadows, 
startling the frack out of Harry Clifford.

"Danny boy! I didn't know you were here." Clifford grinned at the 
faceless man who had just killed him a little while ago. 
"Following me about are you now..."

"Just making sure you don't forget about making me a star." 
Daniel stepped into the light and started walking closer to 
Clifford. "Aren't we just the greatest team..."

"We sure are." Clifford winked. "Especially after I've robbed the 
financial department's safe..."

* * *

Ouch, it hurt to move the head.

Ville tried to see something in the darkness. God what a 
sickening smell. Just like dead rats or something...

What the frack has happened?? The last thing Ville remembered was 
leaving the bridge and rushing down the corridor towards the 
officers' club to get Omega a cup of coffee... Then... Something 
had hit him from behind...

Ville pressed his fingers to his temples. Damn that throbbing 
pain. It made it hard to think straight. How long had he been 
unconscious. Yes, that is what he must have been because Ville 
had no idea how he had come to be in this dark place... And what 
the hell was that music?! Ville lifted his head and listened.

It must have come from a room next to this place... An annoying, 
weird melody. Somewhat familiar... Sounded a bit like the Pinky 
Dinkies. Ville hated all that 4th millennium kinda stuff. Peace 
and love... parbon flowers in your hair... Hey, hang on a centon! 
What's that... A vague streak of light. Must've come from under a 
door...

Ignoring the throbbing pain in his head, Ville started crawling 
towards that light... And he was fracking right. There was a 
door! Running his hand over the smooth metallic surface Ville 
tried to come across the knob or something.

The door was suddenly opened from the other side, startling the 
feldercarbs out of Ville!

He narrowed his eyes trying to make sense of the person now 
standing in the doorway but he couldn't see shit because of the 
light coming from the room behind.

"Welcome back to the world of the conscious." The dark blur 
smiled. "You were out of it for quite a while. Perhaps I should 
have hit you a little less hard..."

"Where the frack am I?" Ville glared at the blur. "And what am I 
doing here?"

The maker laughed. "Always those same damn boring questions. Why 
is it always so important to know where you people are? What does 
it matter? Why don't you want to know what's going to happen?! If 
I was you, I'd be a little more concerned about the future than 
the present..."

Asshole, Ville thought to himself. "All right. What's going to 
happen to me?..."

The maker grinned. "Nothing... Yet." Boy, this little Ville had 
more guts than one would've thought by just looking at him. The 
maker was very pleased to have made this particular choice.
Of course little Ville wasn't quite Apollo but...

"Right now I have to go and leave you here alone for a little 
while, but don't worry. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Where are you going?" Ville was still trying to make sense of 
the damn blur in the doorway.

"I'll be back." The maker smiled. "Why don't you just try and 
make yourself comfortable in the meantime. Oh, and take care of 
your face now! You wouldn't want to look mediocre in my special 
little collection now would you..."

"What the hell...?"

The door closed in front of Ville's face, leaving him once again 
alone in the darkness.

* * *

"Apollo. You've gotta be kidding..."

They were alone in one of the bridge offices, Apollo standing by 
the window facing Starbuck, Starbuck leaning against the door, 
staring at Apollo with disbelief.

"You're telling me that a man whose picture was put in a book a 
frack of a long time before he was even born came to you and told 
you that we have to leave this place now or we can never die... 
Come on!..."

"That is exactly what this man told me." Apollo tried to keep the 
expression on his face serious. "I know what you're thinking 
Starbuck. Trust me, I found it a little hard to believe myself at 
first but..."

"A little hard... Apollo, for Sagan's sake!!"

"...But I think this man, this Aeon, is telling the truth...I 
can't explain it but..."

"Aeon. So you're on first name terms already..."

"Starbuck!!"

"All right, all right, you're the captain, you're the love of my 
life, of course I believe you... But erm, you must admit that 
this all sounds like something an IFB soap opera script writer 
might make up..." Starbuck grinned. "...A soon to be unemployed 
IFB script writer."

Apollo smiled.

"Okay, so what do you want me to do." Starbuck's eyes were on 
Apollo. "I don't think you asked me here to fly this little 
battlestar..."

"Starbuck." Apollo hesitated. "When we exit the Du'yraan system I 
need a couple of reliable people to come with me and blow up the 
phi sector of the Scorpion, and since you're the person I trust 
the most in the universe..."

"Hey! Wait a centon here! I'm a viper pilot, not an unabomber!"

"I know Starbuck." Apollo smiled, now a little darkly. "And 
believe me I wouldn't ask you to do this if there was any other 
way, but..."

"What do you mean there isn't another way? Why couldn't Barton 
for example take care of it. He's the fleet hero'n all, shooting 
the Caydramen..."

"We cannot talk to anyone about Du'yraan or our plans to destroy 
the Scorpion. Those so-called awaken ones are everywhere. They 
are numerous and continuously multiplying, we cannot take the 
risk that one of them will find out about what we are preparing 
for. Therefore I cannot approach anyone else with this matter 
than you Starbuck. You and Boomer. You are the only 
people I truly trust."

"You trust your father for Sagan's sake! Why in heavens haven't 
you spoken to Adama about this..."

"Because I need people I can trust who can perform. Yes, I love 
my father very much but I don't quite see him sneaking around the 
Scorpion presetting laser blasters..."

Starbuck grinned but there was visible concern in his eyes.

Apollo sighed.

"I don't think you realize much I wish I didn't have to ask you 
Starbuck." Apollo's voice became quieter, sad. "I mean... If 
something ever happened to you..."

"Nothing's gonna happen to me." Starbuck walked over to Apollo 
and placed his hands on the man's shoulders, gazing deep into 
Apollo's blue eyes.

"This is what we'll do..." Starbuck grinned. "When this 
feldercarb is over we will finally get sealed and live happily 
ever after. No more putting off the date, no more excuses, Okay?"

"I promise." Apollo replied so softly. "No more delaying..."

Starbuck pulled Apollo into an embrace and closed his eyes. "I 
love you Apollo." He whispered. "I love you more than life."

"I love you too Starbuck." Apollo smiled beautifully. "Soon we'll 
be the happiest sealed couple in the universe."

Starbuck grinned. "Yes. And soon you can start bringing me 
breakfast in bed every morning-cycle like a good husband should."

"Dream on buddy!" Apollo snorted. "You'll be too busy washing my 
tunics..."

Both men grinned, happy.

Such perfection being in love.

"...Although I have to be honest with you Apollo," Starbuck 
mumbled with his eyes closed. "I'm not in the least bit 
interested in this not-being-able-to-die story line. You know, 
the awakers, the ones waking up and all that bombing feldercarb. 
I think it's a damn shame the writer couldn't have come up with 
something a little more imaginative and adventurous..."

"Don't think about it Starbuck." Apollo smiled. "And after all... 
We do get paid for this."

* * *

"WHAT? HEY WAIT A CENTON!" God peeks through a gap in the clouds. 
"Who's tampering with my creations. No one is supposed to say 
such things!! This is REAL LIFE damn it! The next time I hear 
someone say such feldercarb, he's fired!"

"Your creations?" Starbuck raises one eyebrow. "I thought we were 
Glen A. Larson's creations!"

"Yeah, we are... kinda." Apollo smiles. "God created the 
creations in Glen A. Larson's head."

"But what if God is Glen A. Larson?!" Starbuck's eyes are wide. 
"What if..."

"I'M NOT GLEN A. LARSON! HE'S A SAGAN FORSAKEN FRAUD! NO ONE 
CREATED ANYTHING EXCEPT ME! AND WHAT I CREATED IS REAL LIFE SO 
STOP SAYING THIS IS ALL FANTASY OR I'LL COME DOWN THERE AND KICK 
YOUR BUTTS!..."

Sheeeshh! Calm down God!  Calm down!!

Okay, back to the story...

* * *

Ummm, Apollo... I hate to interrupt this beautiful moment of love 
but there's something that doesn't really add up..."

"What?" Apollo disengaged from the embrace and looked up at 
Starbuck.

"First of all. How can you be so sure the Scorpion will follow 
the Galactica? As you told me the awaken ones are just dying to 
land on the Orion if excuse me my choice of words..."

Both men laughed.

"...So why would they follow us away from the planet instead of 
towards it..."

"That's easy." Apollo smiled. "As you know the ships in the fleet 
have automatic navigation system that is connected to the control 
center of the Galactica. In normal circumstances, most of the 
ships' captains are just  sort of loitering on the bridge, 
letting the computers take care of everything so using this auto-
nav, we can so easily direct the Scorpion from the Galactica. Our 
only concern is to keep the captain away from interfering with 
the auto system, and that won't be too hard since the captain of 
the Scorpion will verifiably be very much alive in the normal way 
when we start to proceed with our plan."

"What do you mean verifiably? How can you tell?..."

"We'll place one of the Galactican bridge officers on the 
Scorpion to do nothing but make sure the navigation is on auto 
pilot.

"Okay." Starbuck smiled. "Sounds good. So, how do you say we go 
back to the hugging..."

* * *

"NO NO NO NO NO!" Dimstar through his hands in the air. "It's 
after the fourth bar when you come in! The fourth bar! Not the 
goddamn third!! And you start with a three-quarter stroke and 
then slide into the 4/4 beat!!! Got it?! How many times do I have 
to tell you this!..."

They still had fifteen centons out of two centars Comptel studio 
time left. 'Otherside' had been asked to record two b-sides for 
their fourth coming single but so far they hadn't even finished 
recording the first.

"If you ask me this song sucks!" Jamey was leaning against the 
loudspeaker placed behind him. "Who would want to listen to a 4/4 
bar contemporary jazz with a continuous descending scale and a 
thunderous bass... As far as I'm concerned, this new stuff is a 
disastrous..."

"Nobody asked your opinion Jamey..."

"You never ask my opinion Dim! I'm getting a little pissed off 
about your attitude!..."

"Cool it guys..."

"If you don't like my attitude then what the hell are you still 
doing in my band!..."

"YOUR BAND, My ass! The last time I checked 'Otherside' was 
registered as OUR band..."

"Jamey..."

"Feldercarb! I'm the only goddamn person who brings any real 
artistic value into this shit!..."

"Artistic value?" Jamey laughed. "The only thing you're capable 
of doing is dressing up like a clown!!"

"Oh, so you're jealous of my original appearance and adventurous 
sense of style! I should've known..."

"Both of you guys dress up as clowns..." Charley frowned.

"...And when was the last time you contributed any meaningless 
musical value Jamey, HUH? I don't recall you composing any of the 
songs on our new album!!..."

"That's because you felt so goddamn insecure you didn't allow 
anyone else's investments to be put on the album for you knew 
that compared to them, your little songs would stand out as 
feldercarb!!..."

"YOU LITTLE PRICK..." Dimstar flew over to Jamey, grabbed a hold 
of his throat and starting to strangle him.

"CUT IT OUT, YOU JERKS!" Nicael ran over to the two guys and 
tried to pull Dimstar away from Jamey.

"Ehrmm... Excuse me..."

"YOU FRACKING PIECE OF FELDERCARB!..."

"Hello! I'm sorry for interrupting..."

"WHAT?" Dimstar's eyes were flashing with rage as he turned to 
look at the man standing in the studio doorway. "Umm... My name 
is Harold Depp and ummm..."

"Spit it out Harry boy! Can't you see we're a little busy 
here..."

"...I'm representing Roger Walton of the Pinky Dinkies and I'm 
here to give you a summons to court..."

"Are you out of your mind, man??" Dimstar glared at the guy in 
the doorway. "What is this feldercarb?"

"No feldercarb sir. The Pinky Dinkies have are charging you for 
plagiarism..."

* * *

A waiter with red hair and lots of freckles led Lomas and Astral 
to their table, held the chair for Astral and then handed the men 
their menus.

"I must apologize but we are out of mushies and derrata sauce..." 
The waiter confessed. "...but if you want something refreshing 
but spicy, let me recommend jhanba-buds. We had an extra fresh 
delivery this morning, straight from the Agroship..."

"I'll have a cup of coffee without milk, please." Lomas handed 
the menu back to the waiter. "And a packet of artificial 
sweeteners..."

"Yes sir." The waiter smiled pleasantly, then his eyes lingered 
on Astral. 

"And you sir?"

Astral didn't believe he could swallow a bite. "A tulipian salad 
and a glass of fresh parbon juice."

Thank you sir." The waiter nodded and disappeared with the menus. 
Lomas took Astral's hands gazing into the man's green eyes.

"I thought we'd never get inside this canteen." Lomas grinned. 
"We must had stood in that queue for centars, or at least it felt 
like it..."

"Yes." Astral smiled, not being able to look straight into Lomas' 
eyes. "It sure took a long while..."

"But my love, there is no place that I would have rather wanted 
to be than in that queue with you." Lomas meant what he said.

Somehow Astral knew it and it made him even more nervous... and 
ecstatic.

"I think we need to talk Lomas." Astral pulled his hands away 
from Lomas' hold although he didn't really want to. "I feel this 
is all happening too quickly. I don't feel comfortable..."

Lomas felt a little jolt of fear in his heart. "I'm sorry Astral, 
I don't want to pressure you into anything. It's just that... I 
feel so happy when I am with you! I feel like I have finally come 
to 
the place which I have always dreamed about but never really 
believed would actually exist..."

Astral felt shivers running down his spine. "But... I don't 
really know you Lomas. I don't know you at all!"

"You will get to know me Astral." Lomas smiled so heartmeltingly. 
"Please give me a chance to show you that I am worthy of you... 
That I am not the insane crook that everyone thinks I am. With 
you my love, there is nothing bad in me..."

Damon would've puked if he had been alive.

He was sitting a couple of tables away from the happy couple and 
pretending to sip his hot grog, reading the Piscean Dispatch & 
Courier, listening to every word Lomas and Astral exchanged. For 
feldercarbs sake what syrup the wavy-haired man was letting out 
of his mouth. Even that smoothy-boy Starbuck had never sank that 
low...

"All I ask is to be near you..." Lomas was still gazing into 
Astral's eyes. "All I want is that you exist..."

Astral couldn't take it any more. He threw his napkin onto the 
table and struggled to his feet. Lomas shot after him and took a 
hold of his arm to make Astral turn. "Please! Please give us both 
a chance for the happiness we have so far only dreamed about!!"

Hiding behind his Dispatch & Courier, Damon rolled his white 
eyes.

Oh for Kobol's sake...

Astral felt he couldn't breathe. Felt that Lomas was suffocating 
him but he was too powerless to fight his arm free, too weak to 
walk away...

Lomas pulled him closer, pulled him into an embrace and Astral 
was too weak to resist. He closed his eyes and surrendered to 
Lomas' kiss.

From behind his Dispatch & Courier, Damon let out a sigh of utter 
capitulation.

The waiter with red hair was standing beside the table that was 
reserved for Lomas and Astral. He decided not to open the parbon 
juice bottle but instead take it back to the kitchen. By looking 
at those two men the parbon juice would have left untouched.

And he was right.

After disengaging from the kiss, still looking dazed, Lomas took 
Astral's hand and led him away from the canteen...

* * *

Adama was the first one to notice Apollo and Starbuck coming out 
of the bridge offices.
Omega had informed Adama about Apollo's requests to lead the 
fleet away from current location.

"What is going on here Apollo?" Adama narrowed his eyes. "Why 
have you ordered the Galactica to proceed to direction sega 
without first having consulted me or any of the council 
members..."

"Father. I'm doing as I see best for the fleet and its safety..."

"I have never questioned your motives Apollo because I've always 
relied on your abilities as a squadron captain and leader but..." 
Adama glanced at the large radar, "...I don't see any reason for 
this sudden change of journey plans. The planet that is now 
behind us seems in no way hostile, nor have there been any 
apparent reasons why patrols shouldn't have been sent down 
there..."

"All I'm asking you to do is trust me father." Apollo's very 
determined eyes were on Adama. "Trust me. I know what I'm 
doing..."

"Famous last words."

"SHHHH!!" Ensign Anna's instructor gave her a warning glance.

Adama's suspicious stare was on his son for a long time. All 
other people on the bridge were quiet, waiting, their eyes on the 
two men. After many centons of silence, Adama finally smiled. He 
placed his hand on Apollo's shoulder.

"Son, I give you complete authority on the bridge. I trust you 
will lead us all to safety."

"I will not let you down father." Apollo put his hand on top of 
Adama's. "I promise you..."

The two men, father and son, smiled at each other in complete 
unison.

"Why do I feel like I'm watching Bonanza..."

"Shut up Starbuck! Shut up!"

* * *

The damn door didn't give in an inch, no matter how hard Ville 
tried to struggle with it. Nor did it really improve the 
situation that it was dark as hell in that room. The streak of 
light coming from under the door wasn't much help.

Think Ville, think! What did they teach you in the Young Computer 
Genius' handbook: Never panic. Everything has a solution.

Who's panicking!

Okay. The door was metallic and by the feel of it, the metal was 
stretoxic, so kicking in the daggit wouldn't be much of a choice.

No windows in the room. Not even one facing the space. Obviously 
there would be no escaping through windows then. Not that it 
would've had been possible anyway. There were no G-suits in 
sight...

Shit! The air ventilation system! Well of course! Those pipes 
were circling all over the Galactica and Ville wouldn't even have 
to crawl more than two metrons. The next room would be just fine. 
From there he could sneak out to the corridor and storm onto the 
bridge to report a kidnapping.

But hey... What if this wasn't the Galactica. Ville had been 
unconscious so the kidnapper could've taken him anywhere in the 
fleet.

Think, Ville. Think.

Duh! There was nothing to think about. Whatever ship this was, 
there would still be a ventilation system very much alike the one 
on the Galactica. It would be a piece of mushies finding a public 
area and after that, no matter where Ville was, he would without 
any doubt get help getting back to the Galactica.

"Okay, so what's there to wait for!" Ville grinned to himself. 
"Get your butt in the ventilation pipes!"

Thank heavens Ville was a technical genius and had studied all 
kinds of ship scale models so he had a pretty good idea where the 
vent-hole would be, even though he couldn't see anything in the 
room. The venthole were always above the doorway for safety 
reasons.

Why? No one knows. That's the way it just has always been with 
the colonial ships.

Another thing that was indeed typical on the ships of the fleet 
was the size of those ventilation pipes, but hey, Ville had no 
cause for concern. For once was being small actually a definite 
advantage. Ville would have no difficulty crawling along in that 
confined space. And after all, it wouldn't be much more than two 
metrons... Only to the next room...

Ville tried to eye around in the darkness. He would need 
something to stand on though to be able to reach the venthole and 
remove the grating. It was no use. He couldn't see feldercarb. 
Damn. Why was this always so damn hard in science fiction 
adventure novels!

Now what?

To Ville's utter surprise the door was suddenly opened and the 
blur of a man was back to standing in the doorway.

"And how are we doing?" The maker grinned. "Getting tired of 
being alone, are we?

Sagan how irritating that sounded in Ville's ears.

That voice...

Ville narrowed his eyes to make sense of who the blur was. There 
was something... something very familiar about the figure but 
still he couldn't quite put his finger on it...

"Why am I here? And what the hell am I doing here!?" Ville put 
his hands on his hips to appear more determined.

"Still pondering about those same meaningless questions are 
we..." The maker smirked. "Oh dear. Such a waste of time. Didn't 
I just..."

The maker's eyes bulged out of their sockets as Ville hit him in 
the stomach using all his strength. The man bent over, cursing 
out loud. Ville wasn't planning to stay around to hear it.

He flew past the maker into the brightly lit room and tried 
feverishly to spot the door out.

He didn't.

Instead, he spotted something else that made him stop and gasp 
for air...

"Like them?" A grinning voice lingered from behind. "You should 
since very soon you will be one of them."

Horrified Ville stared at the faces on the walls.

Familiar faces. Plastic faces. Real faces. Rotting faces...

Fighting to remain conscious and sane surrounded by this awful 
sight, Ville didn't even realize the maker taking a dive towards 
him and striking him in the back with a butcher knife.

* * * 

Chapter Two

Caiari Moonfall. Day 4.

Evening.

It was time!

Japhet Vincente eyed around the chamber to check that everything 
looked just great.
It had been his job to make sure that the candles were placed in 
the right angles and the altar of offering had been cleaned from 
all the blood that the previous gathering had caused.

Everything was perfect. Sire Akhael would be very pleased.

Japhet Vincente pulled up his hood and walked to the door. There 
he stopped once more to take one last look around. Just perfect. 
Japhet Vincente smiled. Then he finally opened the door and 
stepped out.

Japhet Vincente was one of the original sixteen men of the 
circle. One of those sixteen disciples of sire Akhael, devoting 
their fates into the hands of Aeon, the chosen one. And, although 
Japhet Vincente had his doubts, all the shit had indeed paid off 
as envisioned. It was finally time for the final gathering. Time 
to be officially re-born and become officially everlasting.

Japhet Vincente wouldn't wait to get to see the awakers. The old 
writings of Ora'an described them as beyond fire and ice, above 
light and darkness, in the heart of all that you do not see.
Japhet Vincente had no idea what that feldercarb meant but if the 
awakers were half as pretty as that Aeon fella, they sure would 
be pretty indeed...

Yo, this is God. Stop calling that bloke Japhet Vincente. It's 
irritating the feldercarbs out of me!

Sorry God. Sorry.

Right!... So... Vinnie was rushing down the corridor. He still 
had a couple of things to do before the gathering was to start. 
One of those was to iron sire Akhael white cape and the other was 
to make sure the catering would go smoothly.

You're surprised? You didn't know that dead people enjoy good 
food as much as so-called live ones? Oh, of course they do, and 
because this would be the last meal for them before landing on 
Orion and starting a new way of living, Akhael had wanted to 
serve his deciples the best on the ship. Yes, Akhael had 
followers amongst the staff in the kitchen of the Scorpion, and 
those followers had been more than happy to obliged to steal the 
mushies and the caviar. They were even prepared to take care of 
the staff if needed.

So. Japhet Vincente (A GLARE FROM GOD) sorry, Vinnie exited the 
Opal sector and hurriedly made his way the lounge of the new 
rising sun.

Someone rushed past him, almost knocking him over but Vinnie was 
too occupied in taking care of things that he barely noticed...

"I'm gonna kick that Roger Walton's ass!..." Dimstar was storming 
one or two metrons ahead of Nicael and Oscar, heading towards the 
half moon sector where the residents of the Scorpion were 
accommodated.

"No one, and I mean no one accuses me of plagiarism!!!..."

"Calm down Dimmy!" Nicael was shouting from behind. "You're not 
going to accomplish anything when you're in that kind of state of 
mind...WAIT!..."

"Get the frack out of my way!" Dimstar pushed his way past a 
loving couple, all cuddly and so completely lost in their own 
marshmallowy world that they were totally oblivious to what was 
going on around them. People like that pissed Dimstar off big 
time. Especially when he was in a 
bad mood and having just been accused of plagiarism... FRACK THE 
WORLD!...

Lomas gave the pushy by-passer a glare. An absent-minded one 
since he was much too happy to be really bothered about it but it 
still was a glare. Then he turned to take a loving look at the 
beautiful angel beside him.

"Are you sure you want to do this Astral? Lomas asked softly. 
"You do know that I don't want anything else than your complete 
happiness...I don't want to push you into anything...

The shuttle from the Piscean had just landed on the Scorpion. 
They hadn't talked much during the ten centon flight and even now 
Astral was mostly silent as he let Lomas lead him by the hand 
along the corridors and through lounges towards Lomas' quarters.

They both had known it the moment they had surrendered to that 
kiss in the canteen. There was no need to talk.

Astral had not wanted to stay on the Piscean and Lomas sensed it. 
Without having said much he had taken Astral's hand and started 
leading the way to the launching bay. Lomas had held Astral so 
tenderly during the shuttle flight, never wanting to let go. 
Never.

"I love you angel." Lomas squeezed Astral's hand as they walked. 
"I would be so completely fulfilled just by staying at your 
side... Please tell me if this is making you uncomfortable..."

Astral gave Lomas a diffident, but still such a warm smile it 
burned Lomas' heart. "I want to be with you Lomas." Astral said 
softly. "I have no choice..."

* * *

Aaaarrgghhh! Damon wouldn't be able handle this much longer.

He had followed Ali and this wavy-haired syrupy fella from the 
Piscean to the Scorpion and was now spying them as they were 
walking down the corridors.

Yes, Damon intended to get Astral.

During the shuttle flight when he had been sitting at the back, 
keeping his eye on those two love birds, he had difficulty not 
letting out a scream of agony.

In any other circumstances Damon considered himself quite a 
romantic fella but THIS!...

Shheeeesh!

One had to draw the line somewhere!!

Damon glanced at his timepiece to make sure he still had time 
before the gathering was to start.

He didn't.

Frack. He had no idea time had passed so quickly. He wouldn't 
have more less than half a centar to drop by his quarters and 
change into the white outfit before making his social debut in 
front of all those new buddies. He would have to hurry!

Frustrated Damon turned and started rushing back to wards the 
lounge of the new rising sun.

He could already spot a couple of awaken ones going that way, 
grinning and chatting. Seemingly excited about all this. Damon 
raised one eyebrow. Nice outfits! He couldn't wait to change into 
the one of his own.

Daniel was wearing black velvet although it had been particularly 
mentioned in the telekinetic invitation that one should be 
dressed in white.

Duh! Daniel hated white. White made one look fat!

Besides, why should he look like all the other awaken ones. He 
was a soon-to-be star! Stars didn't let others to tell them what 
to do or wear. Especially stars with Harry Clifford as the 
manager. Daniel turned to look at the man beside him.

"You think you could get us seats in the front row Harry?"

"No Daniel." Harry Clifford didn't pay much notice to the bloke 
he was with. Oh, but thank Sagan the guy had chosen to wear a 
mask to hide his facelessness.

Although they were all a little different now than before being 
reborn, Harry Clifford wasn't exactly thrilled about the idea of 
having to feast on the bloody mess that used to be Danny's face. 
Clifford had earlier spotted a couple of other faceless geezers 
in the crowd and they sure didn't look too elegant.

Still half a centar before they would all be let into the 
chamber. Harry Clifford eyed around the lounge to spot a bar or 
something. He wouldn't have minded an icy grog with a lemon.

Someone who looked like a detective poked Harry Clifford by 
accident. Clifford turned to give a guy a disapproving glare but 
investigator Terry Stanton didn't even notice. He was staring at 
two guys who were quarreling about having come to the gathering  
too early. A grin had appeared on Stanton's face. He had 
recognized one of those faces.

"Well I'll be damned!" Stanton's smile was wider than the Caprica 
canyon.  "Look Sammy, isn't that Ortega talking with that dumb-
looking mechanic!"

Samuel Dexter pretended not to hear what Stanton was saying. 
Stanton kept babbling excitedly.

"Yeah...I used to bust that guy a couple of times for cheating 
customers before his murder... Oh you remember how he 
occasionally used to work on the livestock ship, taking in bets 
for Capricorn races...Can you believe it, we had sex a few times 
in his cell. What a lousy lay that guy was... Sammy???" Stanton 
turned to give a surprised glance to the man he was with. "Daggit 
steel your tongue or what?"

Samuel Dexter gave Terence Stanton a distinguished little glare 
and then continued to stare forward. He was pouting.

Investigator Dexter hadn't said a word since prison barge and he 
was never going to talk to Terry Stanton again! How dared he 
turned Dex into an awaken one without asking his permission! 
Shit! Samuel Dexter hated to be this... this... dead living 
thing!

"I'm not talking to you Terry." Dexter pouted his lips even more.

"Hey..." Stanton noticed another familiar figure in a badly 
bleached criminal investigator's uniform strolling by.

"Shit! Wasn't that Peter Kohn! Oh man, I hope he isn't going to 
decide to take over the criminal investigation now that he's 
back..."

"What criminal investigation?" Dexter murmured darkly. "We all 
know by now what happened. There is no need for an investigation 
any more."

"I thought you weren't speaking to me." Stanton smirked.

"I'm not!"

Half a centar had almost passed and the lounge of the new rising 
sun was beginning to be pretty full of awaken ones. Most of the 
them were shamelessly white-eyed although there were some, who 
were wearing sunglasses and hooded capes to hide their true way 
of being.

Cree wouldn't have guessed that there would be this many people 
taking part in the gathering. Commander Akhael and his deciples 
must have been pretty busy these 48 centars.

A fact was, that people were usually so attached to one another 
that in most cases, a newly born awaken one rushed immediately 
after his awakening to kill a person dearest to him to make him 
an awaken one too, and so on and so on...

Indeed Cree notice that most of the awaken ones were standing in 
their own little groups. Not many were strolling around, making 
new acquaintances.

Cree's mind lingered to Lomas.

How so very much had he wanted to turn Lomas into an awaken one 
too, but Cree hadn't had a moment's chance of getting Lomas alone 
with him.

Feldercarb, you all say but hey, Cree respects Lomas way too much 
to have killed him in his sleep last night. That's why he hadn't 
tampered with Lomas right after they had met.

Cree had just sat there beside the bed with his heart full of 
love, watching Lomas sleeping. Reminiscing the precious times 
they once had together as master and apprentice. How Cree still 
adored Lomas from the bottom of his heart. No way in frack did he 
regret that he had thrown himself in front of Lomas to save him 
from Baltar's bullets. Cree had gladly died for Lomas.

Now they were once again having the chance to be together. This 
time, eternally. Cree just had to get Lomas alone with him for 
even a little micron.

Last night, listening to Lomas' quiet breathing, Cree had kept on 
rocking back and forth in an ugly wicker chair beside the bed, 
until the early centars of morning cycle had risen.

At 7.00 Cree had slipped out of Lomas' quarters to fetch himself 
something to eat and by the time he had gotten back, Lomas had 
already left the quarters and Cree hadn't had a chance to be 
alone with him since. That damn Astral was always hanging about!

Oh, but Cree knew he would still get Lomas. Perhaps right after 
the final gathering, definitely before landing on the white 
planet. Yes he would!

He would have to hurry though. There wouldn't more than a centar 
or two before the landing and the surrendering to the awakers was 
to take place. After that everything would be too late. Cree knew 
very well that the ones to die after the surrendering would be 
taken to mines of midland, never to be seen again.

Cree would definitely have to hurry!

* * *

"Fifteen centons and we will be leaving the sphere of system 
Du'yraan." Omega's eyes were on the readings that were flashing 
on the computer screen. There was a freshly-fetched, steaming cup 
of coffee and a tulipian bud on the table next to him. "I'm 
switching on the alpha scanner in case we might run into an 
astralon field or a heliumtrioxide storm."

"Please do that Omega." Adama's eyes were gazing at the fading 
whiteness outside the large window. Tigh's hand was on the old 
commander's shoulder. Both men were wearing black lace lingerie 
under their bridge officers' uniform.

"This is captain Apollo." The bridge loudspeaker announced. "I'll 
be landing to the Scorpion in fifty-seven micr..."

There was a little static in the receiver, then a silence of a 
micron or two.

Launch controller Rigel leaned forward to adjust the beta 
frequency.

"...ission to use MFC frequency during the mission to avoid 
leaking of classified information...."

"Permission granted." Adama replied to the bridge communicator 
microphone. 

Rigel looked up at him. She realized something serious was taking 
place on the Scorpion. Rigel knew very well that the MFC 
frequency was only to be used in case of an inter-fleet conflict 
situation. "Commander, what is going on?"

"I do not know, Rigel." Adama furrowed his brow, looking suddenly 
very old and grave. "This time, I really do not know..."

"I'm sure whatever it is, Apollo will be fine." Tigh said softly, 
his hand still holding on to Adama's shoulder. He was wearing 
pink nail polish...

* * *

"My dear participants!..." Commander Akhael appeared at the top 
of the stairway that was leading down to the lounge of the new 
rising sun. There were two hooded men on Akhael's tail and a 
HUGE, welcoming grin on his face. "How nice to see you all here 
so plentiful and nicely dressed..."

Akhael's gaze swept over the crowd of white, then lingered on 
Daniel in his black velvet suit.
For a micron there was something dangerous in Akhael's white 
eyes. Then it disappeared.

"Ladies, Gentlemen! All you newly-awaken ones! May I please ask 
you to proceed to the Opal sector! We have a very nice evening 
ahead of us in the chamber of Orion!"

The crowd of dead living people in white outfits started elbowing 
each other as they all tried to proceed towards the corridor 
leading to the Opal sector at the same time.

"Stop stepping on my toes you idiot!!"

"Sorry! It's kinda hard to notice..."

"Stop pushing!!!"

"If you ask me, this whole gathering together before the final 
gathering is a little badly organized, I mean, why couldn't we 
all have gone straight to the chamber. This rising star lounge is 
obviously a little too small for us all, not to mention this damn 
corridor..."

"I don't think sire Akhael really thought it all though and 
believed us to be so numerous... I'm sure I didn't think this 
would all turn out to be such a success..."

"But wasn't the meaning of this all to re-form as many of us 
before landing on the white planet as possible..."

"Yeah, the rest of them go to a mine somewhere. We are the 
privileged ones."

"What are we going to be assigned for on the Orion anyway? No one 
has really told us what our true meaning is..."

"Oh, I think we were summoned here only to inhabit a deserted 
planet."

"What if the awakers just want to conquer. Perhaps it's in their 
blood. They want subservients."

"Okay, considering that is true...What do you think they are 
going to make us do?"

"Probably nothing... Perhaps to serve them drinks or 
something..."

Akhael was standing on the top of the stairway, watching those 
ignorant, shiny happy people pushing their way to the corridor.

Awaken ones. Re-born to so anxiously to fill their ancient 
destinies...

Akhael smiled.

...As slaves.

Akhael didn't notice that someone had stayed behind from the 
others and was now gazing at him from the shadows. Someone, who 
had once loved him like a father.

Slowly Aeon turned his sad eyes away. It was time to get down to 
the seldom used landing bay G-section to meet Apollo.

* * *

"11 centons..." Omega's eyes on the readings on the computer 
screen. "A three to five per cent possibility of strong 
heliumtrioxide streams within the outer edge of system Du'yraan. 
Thirty five to forty per cent possibility of negative gamma 
encapsulation..."

"I'm ready to switch to F-streamers, sir..."

"Hold it! The segmentation is not yet completely synchronized. I 
need seven microns..."

"You got it sir. Just give me a sign when you're ready..."

* * *

Starbuck couldn't believe his eyes when he saw man that was 
waiting for them by the G-section elevators.He poked at Boomer 
who was staring at Aeon with his mouth wide open.

"Frack! I never thought people like that existed!" Boomer panted. 
"That guy looks like a Sagan or something..."

"Oh, I see people like that every day..." Starbuck replied 
casually, his eyes eyes twinkling. He just couldn't resist 
teasing Boomer whenever he had the chance.

"Oh really!" Boomer turned to give Starbuck a glare. "And where, 
may I ask...In your dreams...?"

"In the mirror!" Starbuck smirked and avoided just in time as 
Boomer tried to slap his butt with the handle of his laser gun.

"Careful with those toys Boomie...They kill!"

"Apollo." Aeon smiled beautifully as the three men approached. 
The expression on Apollo's face was mesmerized. Starbuck and 
Boomer tried not to stare, but they did anyway.

"The gathering is about to start." Aeon's dark eyes lingered on 
the three men. "We have approximately six centons and thirty 
seven microns to get to the opal sector. After that you only have 
a centar to set the explosives. At 10.00 there will be a 
scheduled break for fumarello smoking and going to the turboflush 
and after that the participants will retire to a reserved lounge 
in the half moon sector to enjoy late dinner..."

Aeon paused. His eyes lingered to Apollo. "...And as you surely 
are aware of, it will be impossible to destroy the half moon 
sector without blowing up the whole Scorpion..."

"A centar will be quite enough." Apollo croaked, unintentionally 
still gazing at Aeon but he just couldn't help it. "The four of 
us will easily cover the opal sector in..."

"Apollo, I'm not going to be setting the explosives with you." 
Aeon said softly. "I need to be in that chamber when the 
gathering starts."

Apollo stared at Aeon, slowly realizing what the man was saying. 
"No!..."

"I have a part to fulfill. I'm the chosen one. I have to be 
there..."

"Aeon." Apollo took a hold of the man by his shoulders. "You 
can't be in the chamber when the explosives go off...I won't let 
you..."

Aeon's dark eyes were sad. "I have to."

Apollo's limp hands dropped to his sides. "No..."

Starbuck's alert eyes were lingering between Apollo and Aeon. He 
tried not to acknowledge the sudden fear in his heart.

"I'm ready to die, Apollo..." Aeon smiled a little, a sad smile. 
"...For I have no choice."

Apollo fell silent, not being able to take his pained eyes off 
Aeon's beautiful face. Apollo knew. 

He knew too well.

If Aeon wasn't to show up in the chamber, the awaken ones would 
not proceed with the gathering.

There had to be a way...

"In how many centons will the fleet exit the Du'yraan system?" 
Aeon continued, trying to ignore the look in Apollo's eyes.

Starbuck was staring at Apollo.

"Nine centons and 16 microns." Apollo replied with so much 
darkness in his heart. "If we want to make it, we will have to 
proceed now..."

"Take care of yourself Apollo." Aeon whispered. "I do not regret 
telling you about my destiny. I do not regret that I will have to 
die."

Apollo wanted to reach out and touch Aeon. Pull him into an 
embrace. Hold him tightly, apologize...

He didn't.

One last smile and Aeon turned to leave.

Three men with heroic hearts watched in silence as Aeon walked 
away from the bay area.

Apollo was the first one to turn away...

* * *

They were alone together in Lomas' room, lost in their very own 
starlit universe. Astral kept his eyes closed. He was trembling.

Trembling as he felt how Lomas was gently taking off his cape, 
then removing the Piscenians insignias...Stroking the back of his 
neck, the locks of his hair...

Astral didn't want to be there!

He would never want to be anywhere else for as long as he lived!

Lomas' gentle hands moved downwards to caress Astral's back. How 
those soft lips were gently tasting the saltiness of the skin on 
his neck, on his chin...

Lomas sighed as Astral's trembling hands found their way into 
Lomas' hair, his body leaning closer to Lomas'...

"My, my! What a damn shame I don't happen to have my IFB video 
camera..."

Astral screamed like hell when he noticed the old man and his two 
companions! Lomas jumped fifty metrons in the air, more startled 
by Astral's scream than the weird man with colorless eyes having 
appeared next to the window.

"What the..." Lomas' jaw had dropped. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU 
DOING IN MY ROOM!?!!!"

"The door was open." Akhael grinned. "I knocked but you seemed a 
little occupied..."

"GET THE FRACK OUT OF HERE BEFORE I CALL THE GUARDS!!!!"

"No need to shout!" Akhael mumbled. "I might be old but I'm not 
deaf..."

Lomas eyes flashed furiously.

He leaped towards the man but Astral caught a hold of his sleeve 
in time. "Calm down Lomas... I think he might have knocked... I 
think I heard it..."

"What do you want?" Lomas glared at the old man, enraged.

"You." Akhael grinned. "I want you."

"What??" Lomas was sure he had heard wrong.

"You see..." Akhael raised one eyebrow. "The first time I saw you 
I knew. You have such a strong aura around you. I can even see it 
right now... It would be a damn shame if you were sent to the 
mines by the awakers. I could make you a special one..."

"What is all this feldercarb!?" Lomas almost burst out laughing.

"Yes, I could make special. And you know what..."

Akhael smirked. "I think I will!"

Two hooded men attacked Lomas and Astral, one of them was holding 
a stun gun.

"Astral run!!" Lomas screamed and threw himself against the 
stubbier man. The tall one grabbed Lomas from behind and locked 
his wrists in a hurting hold, smoothly avoiding Lomas' furious 
kicks.

Astral didn't know what the frack to do! He hadn't been attacked 
like this before... or rather... he hadn't been standing beside 
his lover being attacked like this before!

Confused, frightened, Astral glanced at Akhael who seemed to be 
completely enticed by Lomas struggling with the two hooded men. A 
little excited grin was lingering on the old man's white face. 
Astral suddenly realized that no one was paying any attention to 
him!

Astral had no idea what the long iron stick resting against the 
wall was but he grabbed it, and with a graceful fling the stick 
landed on the tall man's head. The man let out a piercing shriek 
and grabbed his head with his hands.

This sudden, unexpected attack against his tall buddy distracted 
the stubby man's attention for a fraction of a micron but that 
was a fraction too long. Lomas struggled free like a wild animal 
and ran to Astral who was still recovering from the violent 
heroic deed he had just done.

Akhael let out a frustrated screed and dived towards Lomas. 
Something white had started to come out of his eyes like liquid. 
Astral screamed.

"Come on!! Lomas yelled and grabbed Astral by the arm.

Together they dashed towards the door that was still open. Astral 
glanced down and noticed that the white feldercarb was starting 
to gather on the floor like a pool of blood. He turned and gasped 
as he saw how the stuff pouring out of Akhael's eyes was reaching 
towards them like it was alive.

"Lomas! For Sagan's sake...For Sagan's sake..."

"No time for enjoying the scenery damn it!" Lomas grip on 
Astral's arm tightened, making him wince. "Come on!!!" Lomas too 
glanced back and he saw it. "Oh my god! RUN! IT'S COMING AFTER 
US!! THE WHITE IS COMING AFTER US"

Astral was sure his legs were going to fail him but relentlessly 
Lomas was holding onto his arm, forcing him forward. Down the 
corridor they flew, towards the stairway. There was no time to 
wait for the elevators...

They both felt it. Something was approaching with terrible speed. 
A coldness far worse than icy wind or water under the surface of 
a frozen lake.

"We'll make it!" Lomas kept panting. "Only a couple of more 
metrons! Come on..."

"I can't!!..." The cold was making it harder to move. Astral 
almost didn't feel his legs now. He stumbled but Lomas 
relentlessly held onto his arm, not letting him fall, pulling him 
forward...

"NOBODY ACCUSES ME OF PLAGIARISM, DAMN IT!!"

"What?" Lomas turned his head to glance at Astral eyes wide.

"I didn't say anything!" Astral stared back. There was no one 
else in the corridor.

"NOBODY ACCUSES..."

"You said that already Dim..."

"Yeah, you've said it like a thousand times already Dim!..."

"AND I'M GOING TO KEEP ON SAYING IT UNTIL THAT ROGER WALTON..."

*THUMP*

"What the...!!"

"For Sagan's sake..."

Something with a determined facial expression flew from behind a 
corner and before Lomas even realized what had happened, he found 
himself sitting on the floor, staring at the most ridiculous pair 
of platform shoes and a hairstyle that could've been mistaken for 
a drowned boray.

The person under the stupid hair was rubbing his chin with a 
frown.

"It's gonna leave a mark." Dimstar cursed out loud. "Hell, it's 
gonna leave a mark. How can I go on tour with a bruise on my 
chin..." His eyes lingered on Lomas. "And who are you?"

"What?" Lomas stared at the drowned rat.

"Dimmy, let's go to the Rising Star and forget about all this 
plagiarism feldercarb, okay?"

"Lomas, are you all right?..."

The white!! Lomas eyed around wildly, ready to dash to his feet. 
There was no sign of it. The corridor bathed in normal, boring 
fluorescent light like most of the other corridors in most of the 
other ships. There was no trace of the white. No icy coldness.

... "Astral?"

"I'm here." A startled croak came from somewhere near Lomas. "Are 
you alright?..."

"I'm fine...What happened to the white!!?"

"It's gone." Astral's voice still trembled a little. "It just... 
vanished."

"Are you all nuts?" Dimstar frowned. "There's a bruise on my chin 
and a stain on my shirt and all you people can do is talk 
feldercarb!..."

"Come on Dim." Nicael walked to Dimstar and put his arm around 
his shoulder, trying to suppress a smirk. "Let's take a shuttle 
to the Star and get grogged..."

"Do you guys have any idea where the launching bay is?" Oscar 
mumbled.

"Do you guys have any idea where we are right now..." Nicael's 
eyes lingered in the corridor.

"In fact... Which direction did we come from? All these cross 
corridors look the same to me!"

Lomas looked up at the three mop-heads. "You've got to be 
kidding!"

"Why would be kidding?" Oscar's eyes lingered to the wavy-haired 
man. Hmmm, not bad looking for a non-artistic bloke. Oscar 
breathed in to make his chest muscles look bigger.

"Hi! My name's Oz! Are you from around here?..."

Lomas was speechless.

"Someone's coming." Astral grabbed Lomas' arm. "I hear 
footsteps..."

"Great! Now we can ask directions..."

"Shhhhhhh!"

"Lomas, what if it is the white-eyed man... Or the white 
itself..."

"What are you crackpots talking about? Why isn't anyone concerned 
about my bruised chin..."

"It's coming..."

"SHHHH!"

"What?" A head of a very surprised looking man in his early 
thirties peeked from the stairs.

"Nothing." Astral smiled feeling relieved and stupid at the same 
time.

"Actually... Can you show us the way to the launching bay." 
Nicael gave this charming stranger a charming grin. "We're a 
little lost..."

"Hi! My name's Oz! Are you from around here?..."

"Shut up Oscar!"

"The launching bay?" The man eyed the bunch of obviously crazy 
men. "Yeah well, the elevators will take you directly to the main 
entrance of bay... You kinda can't miss it."

"Umm..." Nicael smiled. "Where are the elevators..."

"Come on Astral." Lomas whispered and took the angel's hand. 
"Let's get away from these morons..."

Together, hand in hand, Lomas and Astral started towards the 
stairway. None of the other men seemed to notice them leaving.

"What's your name dude?" Oscar's eyes sparkled. Not bad! Nice 
hair. And long too! Must be a sign of some sort of creative 
spirit. "You live around here or..."

"Oh, I'm Roger Walton." The man smiled a little warily. "My 
friends call me Pinky. Nice to have met you all, now, please 
excuse me I was just on my way to..."

"AAAAARARRRRRRGGGHHGHH!!!" Dimstar let out a blood-freezing howl 
and took a 
dive towards the man, grabbing him by the throat. All people 
within sixty hectares must have either choked on their drinks or 
jumped  ten metrons in the air, including Lomas and Astral.

"NOBODY ACCUSES ME OF PLAGIARISM...NOBODY ACCUSES ME..."

"CALM DOWN DIMBO!!" Nicael jumped on Dimstar's back, trying to 
make him stop 
strangling the poor Roger Walton. 

"Get the frack away from me whoever you are!" Walton croaked.

"Dream on buddy!!" Dimstar mumbled through his clenched teeth. 
"Nobody accuses me of..."

"Let him go Dim! The guy can't breathe! You're gonna kill him..."

"LET GO OF THAT MAN OR I'LL SHOOT YOUR DICK OFF!"

"Huh?" Oscar turned. Who the hell was that!

Lomas and Astral turned.

Nicael, who was still hanging onto Dimstar turned. Dimstar, who 
was still strangling Roger Walton turned. Poor Roger Walton 
didn't turn. Dimstar was still having too strong a hold of 
his neck. He couldn't move his head.

"All right..." security officer Storke was pointing his laser gun 
at Dimstar. "Which one of you gentlemen is going to tell me 
what's going on here."

Astral paled as he realized what was the color of the corporal's 
eyes...

* * *

"First one set!" Starbuck glanced up at Apollo and Boomer. 
"Nineteen to go..."

"All right guys, it's time to split up." Apollo's eyes lingered 
on Starbuck's back. "Remember, we have to be in the launching bay 
at exactly 50 centons. That'll give us a few centons to launch 
our vipers and get the frack away from the Scorpion."

"What about the civilians that are..."

"The normal people of the Scorpion are being evacuated as we 
speak." Apollo glanced at Boomer. "...And as planned, we are not 
blowing up the whole Scorpion. Just the opal sector. The 
colonials that are located in other parts of the ship are quite 
safe. The emergency shields will come down automatically..."

"All right! Let's get down to business then!" Starbuck grinned. 
"The quicker we deal with this feldercarb, the sooner we can put 
it behind us! Come on. Let's go!..."

"Lieutenant..." Apollo hesitated. "...Starbuck..."

"Yep captain?" Starbuck halted and looked back. Apollo walked to 
him.

"Be careful." He whispered, softly touching Starbuck's cheek with 
his hand. "No foolish and unnecessary heroic deeds, okay 
buddy!..."

"No more than usual." Starbuck's grin was wide. "Besides... Have 
I ever done something unthinkable and unnecessary risky 
before..."

Boomer looked away as the two men kissed.

* * *

Stormy applause and whistling started the micron commander Akhael 
entered the chamber of Orion. With a huge, radiant smile of a 
wonderful host on his face, Akhael walked to the podium that was 
placed at the back of the chamber and turned towards the 
applauding audience.

Akhael lifted his arms and the applauding calmed down a little. 
Daniel couldn't take his eyes off the huge emeralds that were 
sown onto the hem of the commander's white cape. Hell, Daniel 
should be the one to wear such things! He was the soon to be star 
of the fleet and not that Akhael dude who was, and would always 
remain, only a plain commander. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen..." Akhael beamed. "Dearest awaken ones! I 
apologize for being a little late but you will all understand 
when I tell you that there was some unfinished business that I 
just had to take care off..."

Applause and whistling.

"...Unfortunately that unfinished business remained exactly that: 
Unfinished business..."

Little laughter from the audience.

"...But that will be taken care of sooner or later... NOW my dear 
awaken ones... NOW is the time to raise your eyes towards the 
ceiling of this chamber and come together in the spirit of the 
awakening! Let's us enter the power of all entirety! Let our 
minds cluster to summon the everlasting gods!..."

Eyes were raised to the ceiling. Breaths were being held.

"Let your souls free, my friends! FREE YOUR NEWBORN SOULS! COME 
TOGETHER! COME TOGETHER IN ETERNAL IMMACULACY..."

"What?..."

BLAM!!! A fountain of perfect whiteness gushed from the eyes of 
those hundreds of people and started cascading over the chamber 
of Orion like a snowfall.

"Pretty." Zak grinned and poked the person next to him. "Kinda 
reminds of the winters of my youth..."

"And now my immaculate clustered one..."

"Who's he talking about??"

"Shut up Dick! Shut up! He's referring to our unified souls..."

"... May I ask you to turn your gaze towards the entrance..."

All eyes turned.

"... Ladies and gentlemen..." Akhael grinned. "We have guests!! 
Yes! Please welcome: The last of the precious ones!...

Everyone in the chamber kept their anxious eyes on the doors as 
they started to open with a squeak. Surrounded by a cloud of hazy 
smoke, Lomas, Astral and the Dimstar posse stepped into the room, 
followed by the heavily armed and widely grinning security 
officer Pimsy Storke.

"Hi-de-ho commander!" Officer Storke lifted his hand to a 
traditional scorpion military greeting with the middle finger 
pointing up and the others crossed together to symbolize the 'all 
for one and for all' -concept. "The mission is accomplished sir! 
I bring you the one with the aura and his little mates!"

"Good work Storky!" Akhael rubbed his hands together and gave the 
officer an extremely pleased grin. "Come, my friends! Don't 
remain there standing by the doorway! Come a little closer, you 
precious ones!... Come!..."

"Yes sir! Officer Storke grinned and started pushing Lomas and 
the others towards to the podium where the commander was 
standing. 

Akhael watched them approaching.

"Hey guys!" Dimstar poked Nicael, gave Oscar a wide grin and 
pointed at the podium towards which they were walking. "They have 
a stage in this place. It's kinda small but big enough for us to 
give these guys a concert they'll never forget. I bet that's why 
we were brought here in the first place! They want a show!"

"Great Dim." Nicael raised one eyebrow. "And how were you 
thinking we supposedly gave them a concert. We don't have our 
instruments!"

"Well... we can all sing acapella ad nauseam." Dimstar winked. 
"Like those legendary Earth-fellas The Backstreet boys in every 
damn happening they attend. I've always wanted to kick the blond 
one's ass..."

"Sounds good Dimmy. I mean the singing." Oscar grinned. "There's 
just one little thing..."

"What?" Dimstar turned to glance at Oscar. Officer Storked shoved 
him coldly.

"I can't sing." Oscar smirked.

"So?..."

"Shut up and walk!" Nicael hissed from behind them, feeling 
officer Storke's laser gun being pressed against his back. "I 
don't think they brought us here for a gig..."

* * *

"Take care of yourself Boomer." Apollo put his hand on the darker 
man's shoulder. "I'm expecting to see you back at the launching 
bay and that is an order lieutenant..."

"Yes sir!" Boomer grinned. "Keep the viper engines warm for 
me..."

"...And no stripping on duty, lieutenant." Starbuck's eyes 
twinkled. He reached out and pulled Boomer into a hug. "Just 
remember to keep your mind on the bombing..."

"I'll try my best." Boomer smirked. "No promises though..."

With a little smile lingering on his face, Apollo watched 
Starbuck and Boomer disappearing down the north-gamma and the 
phi-beta corridors. Then he turned and entered the south-west 
hallway of the opal sector.

Apollo was on his way to save Aeon...

* * *

Two centons and seven point five microns to exiting system 
Du'yraan, sir."

"Okay. Bring the thrusters to efficiency delta-omega."

"Done sir!"

"Control C to position 5,3."

"Negative gamma encapsulation percentage increasing disturbingly! 
It's affecting the scanner combing..."

"The heliumtrioxide streams getting stronger!! I can't keep the 
balance of the alpha ailerons!!"

"One centon and 50 microns to exiting point."

"I can't hold the balance!!..."

"Scanner showing unidentified moving objects seventy hectares 
west!"

"Those can be caused by the gamma encap! Check the FDF-radar..."

"What is this vibration?" Adama left Tigh's side and walked to 
Omega. "I can feel it getting stronger..."

"90 microns to exiting point..."

"We have trouble commander." Omega turned his head to look up at 
Adama, who was now standing behind him. "We have to turn back! 
The heliumtrioxide storm is gaining strength the further we get 
from Orion. There's a possibility that it can tear the Galactica 
and the other ships apart within four hectares' distance!!..."

"Well, bring down the shield."

"The shield will be no help, commander." Omegas expression was 
worried as he eyed the readings on his computer screen. "The 
streams are far too strong!"

"40 microns to exiting point..."

"We have to turn back!"

"Establish connection with Apollo! We have to inform him of the 
situation!"

"20 microns..."

"SIR, I CAN'T HOLD THE DAMN AILERON BALANCE!!!"

"19 microns..."

"There's no way we're gonna make it, sir. We HAVE to turn back!"

Omega stared at the computer screen...

* * *

"Starbuck, what are you doing in my sector?" Boomer raised one 
eyebrow. "Don't tell me you got lost!"

Starbuck grinned. "Nope. I was just the usual heroic me and 
finished setting the explosives quicker than you."

"You obviously had less explosives to set. Oh well, you might as 
well give me hand with this now that you're here."

"It's real strange though..." Starbuck's eyes were lingering on 
Boomer's bent back while the guy was finishing setting the timer.

"What is?"

"Have you noticed that all the corridors are completely deserted. 
I've never been in a situation on any ship where I haven't run 
into at least one or two people no matter what the time was..."

"What's so strange about that?" Boomer straightened his back and 
rubbed it. 

"All the abnormal people have gathered together in one place 
while all the normal ones are being evacuated. Doesn't sound so 
strange to me..."

"It's just that..." Starbuck's face was thoughtful. "It all seems 
too easy. I have a bad feeling about this..."

"It's just a bad feeling Starbuck. I've had a couple of those."

"Yeah but..." Starbuck grinned. "...have I ever been wrong about 
anything before..."

The Scorpion fell into a sudden inclination and Starbuck banged 
against the wall. Boomer managed just in time to grab a hold of a 
sprinkler overhang and kept his balance.

"What the frack was that?"

"I don't know... It kinda felt like a little air hole..."

"There is no air in space Boomer."

"Well, whatever it is, it looks like it's going to continue. The 
vibration is getting worse. We better finish our job as soon as 
there's a possibility to finish it..."

"I think I'm getting space sick." Starbuck rolled his eyes. "Why 
oh why did I ever decided to join the space force..."

"Cut the feldercarb Starbuck and help me with the two last 
explosives." 

Boomer was already striding off towards the next spot, taking 
support from the wall to keep his balance.

"We have to get this finished! Come on..."

* * *

"...10 microns to exiting point." Assistant navigation controller 
Mitch glanced at Omega. "Shall I keep the 24 angle direction?..."

Omega didn't answer. The vibration had turned to a continuous 
shudder. Two ailerons had already been torn off by the streams 
and a third one was already out of control. "A connection with 
captain Apollo cannot be established sir..."

"7 microns..."

Omega lifted his eyes and looked out of the largest window. 
Violet, fast-moving swirls could be seen with plain eyes.

"Keep the 24 angle direction Mitch. We are going to take the 
fleet out of the sphere of Orion as planned..."

* * *

Apollo was beginning to think he was lost although he knew for 
sure he wasn't. The corridors on the Scorpion opal sector were 
meandering like rabbit holes and they all looked alike. An 
interior decorators nightmare.

The continuous shudder was a bit of a bitch but Apollo had no 
time to worry about that now.
Besides, he knew it must have been caused merely by a phi-
particle storm or something alike.
Yes, they had to go through stuff like this in the academy. 
Difficult-flying simulation courses.

Apollo, of course, had passed all those courses with grade 
alphas, but to Starbuck, the instructor had been forced to give a 
couple of deltas. Not because of Starbuck being a lousy pilot, no 
no, quite the opposite. It was just the way Starbuck never obeyed 
the commands that annoyed the feldercarbs out of instructor 
Helton.

Apollo had no time to worry about the storm. He had to save Aeon.

Yes, Apollo knew very well that he would risk the whole operation 
by putting off the setting of his detonators until he had managed 
to get Aeon out of the chamber and away from the opal sector. 
Bloody stupid, hell yes, but Apollo couldn't help himself. 
Neither could he give any intelligible reason for why he was 
doing this. He just... He had to! He couldn't let Aeon die.

An unexpectedly violent shudder destabilized the ship, making 
Apollo lose his balance and tearing off a poorly fastened 
fluorescent lamp from the ceiling.

It fell and missed Apollo only by couple of millimetrons.

"Going somewhere captain?"

Apollo's heart leaped to his throat. He lifted his eyes and found 
himself looking straight at the puffy face of Sire Uri with white 
eyes.

"Oh my god!" This was the last thing Apollo had expected to 
happen.

"You verbal expressions just continue to delight me." Uri 
grinned. "No wonder you turned out to be a military man instead 
of a poet."

"How in the names of Sagans did you get out of the prison 
barge???" Apollo stuttered, then suddenly paused, realizing that 
it had to do something with the legend of the Orion. "Oh, of 
course..."

"Yes." Uri smiled. "I have friends in high places."

"And one of them was kind enough to kill you and bring you back 
to life." 

Apollo smiled sarcastically. "Oh, the advantages of being a loved 
man..."

Uri laughed.

"So, what are you doing here Uri." Apollo eyed the man 
disgustedly. "Shouldn't you be with the rest of your friends..."

"I was just on my way there." Uri smirked. "I needed to use the 
turboflush first so I'm a little late from the gathering... But, 
hey. Why don't you join us captain. Be a party animal for a 
change..."

"No thanks." Apollo smiled coldly. "I'm trying to quit."

"But I insist!" Uri laughed. "In fact, I won't take no for an 
answer..."

Apollo didn't even feel needle. Suddenly he was just flying 
through darkness, the world remaining further and further 
behind...

* * *

Lomas was to be next. Akhael had wanted to safe the best for 
last.

With coldness in his heart, Lomas had watched how the 
ridiculously dressed Dimstar and his two pals were butchered. 
Someone might have called this mindless brutality 'ritual 
murders' but to 
Lomas it only looked like sickness of the human mind and it made 
him abysmally sad for he had been the same way.

With the deadly cold still crawling inside, Lomas had witnessed 
Dimstar and the others returning. And he was to be next.

Akhael did not want to re-join Astral and Lomas after death, so 
he had decided to not kill the blond bloke and thereafter Astral 
had been completely ignored.

Astral was shoved amongst the audience of the awaken ones, where 
had crawled to the wall and was now leaning against it, his body 
still limp and shaking from having seen the murders of those 
three lads.

Astral couldn't bare to see these monsters hurting Lomas. This 
sight of that beautiful man, bound and helpless on the podium and 
the old commander with his white eyes disgracing him. Tearing his 
tunic off and running those long fingernails... hell, claws... 
along the chest, leaving bleeding cuts on the pale skin... Astral 
buried his face in his palms.

"A pretty boy you are." Akhael was smiling, walking around Lomas. 
"We'll make a heck of a good team."

Lomas didn't condescend to answer. He just kept his eyes staring 
into the faceless crowd in the dark, candlelit chamber, hoping to 
see Astral. How indescribably relieved he had been when the old 
devil had announced that the angel would be left unharmed.

Oh yes. Lomas would so willingly suffer desperately for a million 
millenniums and die a thousand deaths than let someone hurt 
Astral.

"You'll thank me later." Akhael continued. "Oh, you'll see. 
Believe me when I tell you that those mines are a bitch..."

Lomas wasn't listening a word. He didn't let himself react as he 
felt the old commander's hand moving up to stroke his hair.

"...We'll be much comfortable in the personal service of the 
awakers. Living in our own little place, you and me... Exploring 
the pleasures of eternal life..."

Cree had forgotten to breathe. He stared at the two men on the 
podium with his face turned ashen.

"...And what pleasures indeed!" Akhael's voice had turned a 
little huskier. "Just the two of us... Oh, and possibly my 
cousin!." Akhael laughed. Lomas' face remained expressionless.

Astral fought to keep his eyes downcast so he wouldn't have to 
see the terrible despair that had crept into Lomas' eyes. He 
didn't see Damon staring at him from amongst the crowd. Damon 
didn't see doctor Salik eyeing him from the other side of the 
chamber.

* * *

"I'm sure I know that lad from somewhere." Salik pondered. "You 
don't forget a hair like that..."

"Oh, that's just one of Starbuck's ex-lovers' ex-lovers." 
Cassiopeia snorted. "You remember Aurora. The one with the big 
hair and a stupid plan to take the Celestra..."

"Oh, of course." Salik remembered. "Aurora... Funny that I don't 
see her around here. One would think she would've been the first 
one to be killed by Damon. Those two having been lovers and 
all..."

"Obviously not..."Cassie didn't care. "By the way doc. Thanks for 
killing me. This sure beats being in a coma."

"Oh, don't mention it." Salik waved his hand negligently. "My 
pleasure. I've always been one to endorse euthanasia, and who 
else would I rather have put out of her misery than you my dear 
Cassiopeia."

"Nice choice of wording doc..." Cassiopeia smiled. "...But 
thanks. I appreciate it."

"Yeah..." Salik grinned. "I would've killed Athena too but I 
couldn't figure out a way to sneak onto the prison barge without 
being noticed."

"...Which was probably a good thing since your wife and two sons 
came back..." Cassie smiled.

"This is all fracking confusing!" The well-dressed person next to 
Salik frowned. "Can someone please explain to me how this all 
works! I thought that the only people that returned were the ones 
killed in the sphere of Orion..."

"No, no, no." Salik gave the person pleasant grin. "The 
previously died ones can also come back."

"But..." The person in a Garcini suit next to Salik furrowed his 
brow. "Aren't we going to have a hell of an overpopulation 
problem if all the people that died in the destruction of the 
colonies came back to us now..."

Salik smiled. "Don't worry mister..."

"Clifford. Harry Clifford."

"...Mister Clifford. The ones that have not died in the system 
Du'yraan can only come back if they are being thought about... 
longed for."

"Really?" Harry Clifford raised one brow.

"Yep." Salik nodded. "You have to want someone to return in order 
for him to do so."

"Funny..." Cassiopeia suddenly thought of something. "I haven't 
seen Serina returning... Nor Ila, or... even Bojay!"

"That just comes to show us that Apollo has moved on with his 
life. And so has Adama... And Sheba too."

"Yeah." Cassiopeia replied bitterly. "Who would want the plain 
old Serina back if one has Starbuck..."

"Forget Starbuck Cassie." Salik took a hold of Cassiopeia by the 
arm and squeezed. "He's not worthy of you."

"Yeah, right! And daggits have wings..."

"But, ummm..." Harry Clifford was not yet quite satisfied with 
the answers he had gotten. "If one has to want someone to return 
in order for that person to be able to come back..."

"My head is beginning to ache." Cassie rolled her eyes. "Can't we 
talk about something else."

"...Then why do those people who were killed incidentally or just 
because they were annoying as hell..."

Harry Clifford's eyes lingered to Dimstar who was seemingly 
having the time of his newly-formed life, tottering around in his 
platforms, introducing himself to everyone who was willing to 
listen. Sagan that bloke irritated the frack out of him.

"Why do those people return?"

"Because they were killed in the sphere of Orion, right under the 
nose of the awakers."  Salik grinned. "Now, can we please change 
this subject."

"Oh my Gawd..." Cassiopeia's jaw dropped. "Pinch me, someone. I'm 
dreaming..."

Salik and Harry Clifford paused chattering and turned to follow 
Cassie's stare. And so did everyone else in the chamber 
obviously, since the room became dead silent.

Aeon was walking towards the podium of offering.

Having dropped the cape of unidentity and now being exposed to 
enchanted eyes, Aeon moved softly without looking at anything, 
his eyes meeting no one's.

He walked to Akhael and kneeled down before him, bowing his head 
to receive permission to conclude what had began so many 
uncountable time units ago.

In that position they remained, Akhael and the beautiful man, for 
centons, until Aeon lifted his face and his eyes met the 
commander's. "I'm ready." Aeon spoke.

* * *

"Yeah, so am I." Terence Stanton hissed. "With a guy like that... 
Sheeeshh..."

"Shut up Terry." Samuel Dexter was still pouting although he had 
quite forgotten about it by now.

Daniel, who had gotten lost from Harry Clifford didn't say 
anything. Just watched how Aeon arose from before Akhael and 
walked the man lying on the podium.

For a while ago Daniel could've sworn it was the same perfect man 
that had asked directions to the turbowashroom in the sigma 
lounge party the other day, but now looking at the fella, lying 
there like an old rug, barely conscious but still humanly alive, 
chest covered with cuts and scratches and the breathing being 
seemingly hard, the man could in no way be the same 
imposing creature who Daniel had even considered being one of the 
important ones.

Duh! Of course this wasn't the same guy. Daniel never forgot a 
face.  Err... Especially now that he didn't have a one of his 
own. But no worries! Daniel had just decided to find himself a 
new face. A gorgeous one. The mask was too damn sweaty for 
practical purposes. Things should never be sweaty when one is 
about to become a star...

Lomas narrowed his eyes, trying to make sense of the blur that 
knelt beside him and started to mumble incomprehensible 
gibberish.

Jeeez, how badly his head was hurting. Lomas would've given his 
eternal soul for a painkiller and a big glass of fresh, cold 
water.

"Where's Astral...? Where..." Lomas tried to lift his head.

"You'll feel better if you don't try to speak." Aeon said 
quietly, his mind lingering feverishly on Apollo. What were they 
doing right now!? In how many centons would it all be over!? 
Would it all be over??

Aeon's face was so beautifully serene, that if one would've have 
seen a glimpse of what was actually going on behind all that 
calmness, one would've shit!

Aeon was in shambles!

No, Aeon wasn't afraid to die. (I mean: To die for good. A 
comment from god.) It was just the damn wait. The knowing that 
something should be happening soon but not knowing exactly when 
or is it actually ever going to. The very thing that Alfred 
Hitchcock might have called suspense.

Music started. Such a beautiful melody it hurt. At first no one 
understood where the sound was coming from. Everyone kept looking 
at each other, puzzled, trying to spot the person humming.
Then they all realized it was Aeon. First humming, then starting 
to form words. Holding a silver-plated dagger and one of the 
black candles in his hands, singing the most haunting melody 
anyone could ever remember hearing.

"This sucks!" Dimstar frowned. "That's a completely wrong key for 
a lament. The guy should've chosen the D-minor scale..."

* * *

Uri put the syringe back to his pocket and eyed the unconscious 
Apollo.

Such a great thing that he always happened to carry a packet of 
dekar in his pocket. You never knew when the perfect moment came 
to use it. And this, if any, was one.

Why, you ask. Why did sire Uri, who has no meaningful part in 
this plot, stun the poor Apollo and was now bending over to take 
a strong hold of Apollo by under his arms to drag him to the 
chamber of Orion to be killed and re-born? Oh, it's nothing 
special. Uri's just the kind of person who likes to do things by 
the feel of it.

Just like the inspiration to help Baltar rape Adama when they 
were all younger, MUCH younger... or the desire to do so again 
yahrens later, when Baltar had captured the old commander, was 
holding him prisoner on the Cylon base ship and had invited Uri 
for a nice, intimate dinner... Damn it. Uri could still so well 
remember the bitter feeling of disappointment when he had 
realized that Adama had managed to escape just before the big 
moment.

"You should keep away from the mushies, boy." Uri panted.

It wasn't exactly a piece of primaries pulling Apollo's limp body 
along the floor of the corridor. Perhaps he should just leave 
Apollo here and forget about holding him hostage and demanding a 
special kind of ransom from Adama.

Yes, this brilliant idea had just now entered Uri's head. 
Demanding Adama to give him sexual favors in order to get his 
precious son back. And then, after having had enough of playing 
with Adama's toys, Uri would kill the old goat and they would 
live happily ever after as awaken ones.

Something whacked the Scorpion out of its balance and threw sire 
Uri against the metal wall causing him to hit his head, lose 
consciousness and fall to the floor beside Apollo.

Fire, caused by the explosions set off by Starbuck and Boomer, 
broke out in the north-gamma area, starting to devour its way 
quickly towards the south-west hallway, the flames crawling 
hungrily closer and closer to where Apollo and Uri where lying...

* * *

What the hell was THAT?!" Commander Akhael quickly tried to take 
support from the wall but missed and unintentionally stage dived 
from the podium, falling flat on some of his faithful followers. 
Terence Stanton dislocated his shoulder when trying to hold on to 
something protruding, when the ship took the dive. The candles 
placed all around the chamber fell and set fire to everything 
that happened to be stumbling nearby, the chamber of Orion soon 
becoming a 
scene of panic and disaster.

Screams of desperation and extreme agony were soon resounding all 
around, reaching nightmarish peaks, the smell of burning flesh 
filling the air as hundreds of human torches lit the chamber of 
death in lights of horror.

One of the statues on the walls got torn off and crashed on 
Cassiopeia, penetrating her chest.
Doctor Salik let out a terrified yell and tried to pull the 
statue out. Someone's laser gun malfunctioned and shot Salik in 
the forehead. With blood gushing out of his head, he fell to the 
floor.

"Oh god, I have to get out of here..." Damon was desperately 
trying to escape towards the door, but stumbled on two burned 
bodies he didn't recognize and fell over.

The fire caught up with him, setting his curly hair in flames and 
so did Damon burn to death atop Zak and little faceless Ville, 
who had managed to make it to the gathering although the maker 
had killed him kinda late..."

* * *

"Let's get the frack out of here!" Boomer had already reached the 
door at the end of the corridor, holding it open to Starbuck who 
was running like hell towards him.

Flames were reaching from behind, filling the corridor with thick 
smoke, making it hard to see ahead.

"The 4/13 bit explosions are due in just couple of microns!" 
Boomer was frantic. "We have to get out of the opal sector before 
the Chamber blows up or we'll never be able to get out!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Starbuck panted. "Calm down. It's not 
like the ship's on fire or something..."

"Somehow I don't find that very amusing." Boomer murmured. "And 
stop wasting time and energy on talking feldercarb. We have to 
get out of this place!"

Starbuck reached the doorway and both men rushed to the next 
corridor, the door behind them closing with a bang, and hopefully 
making it harder for the flames to move to the direction where 
the launching bays were.

Two other explosives shuddered the ship, making Boomer and 
Starbuck stumble, but determinedly they staggered along.

"This sure is not my idea of a nice, harmless adventure." 
Starbuck mumbled while running. "I would rather be fighting the 
cylons than a bunch of dead people..."

"Let's just hope that we are outside the sphere of Orion." Boomer 
grabbed Starbuck by the arm and tried to get him to run faster. 
"Otherwise this little adventure has been worth feldercarb!"

"I trust in Omega's skills." Starbuck was out of breath but 
managed a grin. "That daggit has directed the Galactica away from 
trouble more times than I can count!"

"Oh, that can't be very many then..."

"Shut up Boomer and run!..."

* * *

"We're out of the Du'yraan system!" Assistant Navigation 
controller Mitch yelled. "I'm trying to hold these exact co-
ordinates! If we move any more forward the ships are going to be 
history. Our only chance is to try to remain stabilized in this 
position..."

"IT'S IMPOSSIBLE!" Second-in-charge assisting controller Micky 
Moonshine screamed. "THE  STREAMS ARE TEARING OFF THE REMAINING 
AILERONS. WE HAVE TO TURN BACK OR WE'RE GONNA LOSE ALL NAVIGATION 
CONTROL!"

Calm down officer." Omega gave Micky Moonshine a glare. "I'm not 
deaf."

Omega turned in his chair to face Adama, who was trying to hold 
his balance standing behind him. Tigh had already rushed to the 
bridge turbowashroom to be space sick.

"Commander?..."

"I trust in your power of deduction Omega." Adama replied. "I'm 
sure your decision will be what's best for the situation."

Omega stared at Adama, hesitating, but only for a couple of 
microns. Then he turned back to speak to the personnel 
communicator microphone. "We will try to keep out of system 
Du'yraan until we hear from captain Apollo. We have to fight for 
Apollo's sake. Just hang on there Mitch... Micky... We'll make 
it!"

"Sure we will..." Micky Moonshine mumbled to his computer screen, 
raising one eyebrow.

"I'm getting strange codes from the Scorpion, sir." F-trained 
data observer Dixon stated. "It looks like part of the ship is 
being blown apart!!..."

"Might be heliumtrioxide distortions." Omega mumbled absently, 
trying to concentrate on keeping the Galactica in one piece. 
"Like the unidentified moving objects in the scanner earlier..."

"THERE GOES THE FIFTH ONE!" Micky Moonshine shot to his feet. "WE 
HAVE TWO AILERONS LEFT! THIS IS OUR LAST GODDAMN CHANCE..."

"Stop screaming and keep your concentration on the ones left..."

"OH HEAVENS! WE LOST CONTROL OF THE LASER GENERATORS! THE D-CDT 
IS DISABLED!! THE HELIUMTRIOXIDE JUST DESTROYED OUR DEFENDING 
SYSTEM!"

"Frack!" Adama cursed. "Okay. Let's all calm down. The only thing 
we have to worry about right now is trying to keep away from the 
Du'yraan sphere. There is nothing threatening us at the moment so 
we can all take a deep breath and get the laser generators fixed 
when we get out of this damn storm."

"Commander. I'm receiving radar warnings..."

"As I said, those might be distortions. Don't pay too much 
attention to them..."

"But..."

"Oh shit!" Micky Moonshine just happened to glance out of the 
window and froze. "Shit!"

"What?"

"We are being approached by a Cylon fighter squadron, sir!!..."

* * *

The explosions were getting worse. Aeon knew there wouldn't be 
more than a couple of centons left to fight. The fire had already 
blocked most of the ways to the door and the screams had become 
more and more despairing, hopeless.

"Are you all right? Hey!..."

Lomas realized the blur was still beside him, slapping his cheeks 
trying to force him to think straight. Lomas couldn't tell if it 
was the same blur as previously or not. Probably it was.

God it was hard to breathe in of all that smoke and smell of 
death. The smoke burned the eyes too, making it hard to keep them 
open. Lomas tried to lift his head. The smoke made him cough.

"Who are you?... What's..."

"Can you walk?" Aeon had already taken a hold of Lomas by under 
his shoulders, trying to help him up. It was useless. Aeon wasn't 
strong enough. He frowned.

"Come on!" Aeon panted. "You need to help me! You need to get out 
of here!"

"What's going on?" Lomas tried to look around to spot Astral 
somewhere. "where is..."

"No time to explain." Aeon wiped his forehead. It was getting 
hellishly hot in that chamber. "You need to get off the Scorpion 
or you are going to die..."

"Where's Astral?... Where?..."

"Your friend is waiting by the door. I tried to help him escape 
but the damn fool refused to leave without you..."

"Astral?!" Lomas' heart rejoiced. Now he had every reason to obey 
this strange blur and fight his way out of this chaos. He 
clenched his teeth together and forced himself up, assisted by 
the blur, 
and together they started towards the flames.

"Here, take this!" Aeon handed Lomas a piece of cloth. "Put this 
on your face! Come..."

Akhael's cape was on fire. His hair was on fire and his face 
looked like charred pork. Still he was able to move. Still he 
kept fighting his way towards the doorway, cursing out load, 
pushing every person who happened to be nearby out of his way.

Akhael saw Lomas slipping away from his reach, surviving flames, 
becoming more and more obscured by the clouds of smoke.

Unacceptable!

Akhael couldn't give in. He didn't hesitate when the fire caught 
his arms and legs, broke into his lungs and made them explode.

Akhael fell to the floor and his screams started slowly fading as 
the remains of his body continued to burn to the embers.

Lomas and Aeon kept fighting their way to the door. Lomas could 
already see a figure of someone standing there, waiting...

Astral. Lomas' heart sang.

Other, more violent explosions continued to shudder the ship. The 
walls of the chamber of Orion started falling apart, pieces of 
metal crashing on the floor.

Someone with his head on fire, stumbled right in front of Lomas, 
shrieking like an animal being slaughtered. Lomas only just 
avoided the hungry clutches of that fire by taking a dodge 
sidewards.

No time for a breather. Mercilessly Aeon forced Lomas to keep 
stumbling forward. The way from the podium to the door couldn't 
have been more than a few metrons but it felt like hectares.
Lomas was feeling all strength from his legs disappearing but he 
had to get to the door.

Aeon was clutching to Lomas' arm as they forced their way through 
the inferno of death.

Someone was approaching through the smoke. Something, who was 
slowly forming into a young, pretty face. It wasn't Astral. It 
was another face that Lomas remembered so well.
His heart broke.

Lomas halted and tore his arm away from Aeon's grip. Forlorn, he 
stared at the dirty, soot-covered face of Cree, then let his sad 
eyes linger on the boy's torn clothes and the blood on his arm.

This Cree looked different than the former visions, but Lomas 
knew it was still only the sickness of his mind. Cree wasn't 
here, he was in Lomas' heart and therefore brought to life by the 
dark rivers of his insanity.

So hard, so desperately had Lomas tried to become free. Fought to 
escape the world of fear and hatred. How filled with joy had he 
been at those rainbow moments when the dark seemed to stand aside 
and gave way to hope. Lomas knew now that the dark would never 
leave.

Lomas turned his despaired eyes away. The cold inside his hear 
made him shiver regardless of the oppressive, sweltering heat. 
The flames all around had become more furious, silencing screams, 
destroying everything that was left of the chamber. Aeon knew 
Lomas and the others would have to get out now or they would be 
dead in microns. Lomas didn't give a damn.

Indifferently Lomas watched how Aeon's mouth was forming words 
and  how the look on the beautiful man's face suggested that he 
was screaming furiously, obviously trying to drum some sense into 
Lomas' thick skull. Lomas didn't hear a thing.

Cree, or rather, the sickness in Lomas' head seemed to be 
panicking too. Babbling something red-faced and staring at Lomas. 
At this very moment Lomas hated himself more than he had ever 
done before. He turned and dived towards the flames.

* * *

The fire hadn't made its way to the launching bay yet. The 
entrance door banged open and Starbuck rush in, Boomer right on 
his tail, both men instantly eyeing around the bay trying to spot 
Apollo.

"He's not here yet." Starbuck's heart missed a beat. "If he's not 
here in two centons I'm going back  to look for him!"

"Calm down, Starbuck." Boomer was worried too but he didn't want 
to make Starbuck even more frantic by showing it. "I'm sure he'll 
be here any micron."

"He'd better be!!" Starbuck's face had turned pale as snow but he 
tried to act calm. Yeah, of course Apollo would return. Apollo 
was a hero.

Boomer's eyes lingered on the vipers.  Shit."

"What?"

Boomer smiled darkly. "If I were you I'd be a hell of a lot more 
worried about something else than Apollo..."

Starbuck's head turned. "What?? What??"

"It's a frackin' storm out there!" Boomer's eyes turned away from 
the vipers and met Starbuck's.  "Hell, we'll be lucky if we 
survive even two centons after launch in those little vipers!"

"Frack." Starbuck realized that too and was now staring at Boomer 
with furrowed eyebrows.

"We are fracking prisoners in a sinking ship!..."

"I never thought I'd have to admit this to you, Starbuck..." 
Boomer sighed. "But this time, it sure looks like you're right 
buddy."

* * *

"LOMAS! NOOOO!!" Someone grabbed a strong hold of Lomas' tunic 
sleeve just before he was devoured by the fire. Someone with 
frightened white eyes and sandy hair covered in soot.

Trembling from the horrible scare Lomas had given him, Cree 
pulled Lomas into a tight embrace, mumbling panicked babble into 
his ear and not letting go now matter how much Lomas tried to 
fight back.

"Lomas, please!!..." Cree croaked. "Don't do this! Please, we 
have to get out of this place..."

"You are not here!" Lomas kept struggling back. He was getting so 
weary of all the nightmares. "You are not here Cree! It's me! I'm 
a monster..."

"No you are not!" Cree fought back tears and pressed Lomas 
tighter against his body.

"I'll never be free from the darkness...." Lomas felt such 
immense despair. "I can never change... I can... never be worth 
being loved..."

"Please don't say such stupid things." Cree felt his heart 
shattering. "I love you Lomas. I always have! Why are you 
behaving like this?!..."

"I'm a monster." Lomas cried. "And I'll always be... "

Cree was helpless.

"I'll be forever tormented with the things I lost..." Lomas 
sobbed. "Haunted..."

"You haven't lost me Lomas!" Cree wanted to scream. "I'm right 
here and soon we can become alike and be together forever!!"

"Cree is dead! He's dead!!! He's gone!!!..."

"No! I'm not dead!" Cree cried, then realized that he was. 
"Err... yes I am, kind of, but...It doesn't matter..."

"Lomas." Someone said. "Remember the things you have seen 
tonight. Believe in the words you have heard from the lips of the 
people who have returned from death..."

Lomas lifted his despaired eyes and saw a man who was no longer 
reminding a blur but a person of exquisite beauty. Lomas had seen 
this man so many times before. And now he remembered...

"Cree?" Lomas turned back to gaze at the pale-faced, wide-eyed 
boy before him. "Are you... Is it... Am I really free?..."

"I'm here. I'm with you." Cree smiled. "Yes, I am alive. In a 
different way, yes, but I'm still alive..."

"What happened to your eyes??" Lomas stared at Cree as if he 
still couldn't quite understand. "It's a long story." Cree 
grinned relieved. "It all began many uncountable time units ago 
in a distant galaxy called Du'yraan..."

"Oh, for Sagan's sake!" Aeon frowned. "Save that story for later 
will you! If this had been any other story than this one, we 
would all be burned to death by now. This is our last fracking 
chance of getting out of this chamber!"

"No, I have to find Astral!" Lomas's eyes started lingering 
around feverishly. He couldn't see shit because of the smoke. 
"I'm not leaving without the angel!"

"God, you're stubborn." Aeon rolled his eyes frustrated. "we have 
no time..."

Cree had fallen silent for a micron. He was so hard fighting 
against the will of his heart. Fighting against himself... "I 
know where Astral is." Cree finally spoke. "I could take you to 
him..."

"He's alive?!" Lomas turned with his eyes suddenly shining like 
two stars. 

"Where is he?.... We have to hurry!! Please show me where he 
is!..."

Yes, Cree's love towards Lomas had won. Cree took Lomas' arm and 
led him to the half-conscious man lying on the floor about five 
metrons away. Had there not been for Cree, Astral would never 
have been noticed. He was completely hidden by a veil of smoke, 
half buried under the remains of Ortega, the clutches of the fire 
viciously reaching for him.

Aeon and Cree helped Lomas to get Astral up and supporting each 
other, the four men FINALLY started towards the doorway.

* * *

"Shit! This can't be happening! This just can't..."

"Believe it, it's happening." Omega was getting very tired of 
Micky Moonshine's babbling. From now on he would do his best to 
try to avoid sharing a duty-shift with this officer again...ever. 
"Please be quiet, I'm trying to think..."

A bright crash of light passed the Galactica, making it shudder 
violently. For a little while the space all around looked unreal. 
Observer Dixon's face turned pale as snow.

"They're firing at us! Oh my god, they are firing at us..."

"Yes. We noticed." Micky Moonshine snorted. "Your observing 
skills are just stunning observer Dixon."

Another laser explosion shuddered the Galactica. This time, it 
missed the ship by less than half a metron.

"Oh Sagan I see seven more squadrons approaching...." Dixon 
croaked. "...and we're defenseless for heaven's sake!"

"Mitch..." Omega turned to eye the assistant controller. "Is 
there any possibility we can move towards 54 point 7 angle and go 
swiftly enough to have a chance in avoiding the lasers?"

"Hell no, sir!" Mitch replied, rolling his eyes. "The storm makes 
it completely impossible to do any kind of evasive movements. If 
we try, the streams will tear the rest of the Galactica to 
pieces.
Besides, we can't really do graceful curlicues with just two 
ailerons!"

Yet another laser explosion lit up the space around the ship. All 
men on the bridge heard the deafening rattle when the laser shot 
hit something.

"Okay! There has to be a way! What about taking the risk and move 
on forward to angle 54 point 7..."

"Sir! I can just about hold the ship in the position we're in 
right now. There is no way to direct the Galact..."

A laser explosion, but this time a little further away. The storm 
streams were gaining strength. The Galactica was beginning to 
shudder uncontrollably.

"Are you saying there is absolutely no other way than turn back." 
Omega's very serious eyes were on Mitch, who met the stare 
single-mindedly. "Sir, we can either be torn apart by the storm, 
get shot by those cylons, or turn back to get away from the 
streams and take a chance in trying to escape."

"Can't we launch vipers...?" Adama cut in. "The Silver Spar 
squadron is on duty as we speak and standing-by in case of a 
serious situation alteration. We can easily get those vipers into 
action in less than ten centons..."

"Commander. If we launch vipers into a heliumtrioxide storm that 
could easily destroy a ship as big as the Galactica. What do you 
think will happen if..."

"Adama." Omega looked straight into the commander's eyes. "We 
have to make the decision now."

All men fell silent.

Although they had no clue why Apollo had demanded the fleet to be 
led away from Du'yraan, everyone present realized that the 
request had not been given light-heartedly. Apollo had a good 
reason for his actions and whatever they were to do now would 
either support or destroy those actions.

Actually. Whatever they would decide to do would turn out to be 
disastrous to Apollo's plans.
There was only one way the people of the fleet would survive 
alive.

Omega took a deep sigh and then turned to look at the assisting 
navigation controller.

"Mitch, bring the thrusters to position reverse and pull down 
equalizers C and G."

"Sir?"

Omega gave Mitch a vague smile. A resigned one.

"Prepare for a full U-turn, officer. We are returning to the 
sphere of Orion..."

* * *

"Where the frack is Apollo??" Starbuck was by now fallen 
completely frantic. He was pacing back and fourth around the 
vipers so furiously that Boomer was beginning to doubt he would 
leave a track the size of  Capricorn canyon.

"I'm sure he will be here in just a couple of microns. Stop 
worrying! Apollo always survives everything. He's the fleet hero. 
Calm down!"

"Am I the only one who remembers that there was one situation 
where Apollo got shot by count Iblis and died!!..."

"Yeah, but he was taken to the ship of lights and brought back to 
life. As I said, he survives everything."

"Shit! I just came to think of something!" Starbuck suddenly 
stopped pacing. "All these crazies on the Scorpion...Aeon's story 
about death being chaos and all... How come  Apollo's way of 
being didn't change although was brought back from  death on the 
ship of lights?!?"

"I think it's merely because we weren't in the sphere of Orion 
back then. Apollo wasn't brought back by any awakers but a 
completely different bunch of beings. Good ones..."

"Yeah, that must be it. But I'm telling you Boomer..." Starbuck 
once again continued pacing.
"If Apollo isn't back in 30 centons I'm going in search of him! I 
don't give a damn about the fire!..."

* * *

Apollo opened his eyes and tried to remember where he was. There 
was an almost impenetrable cloud of black smoke all around, 
making it even impossible to breath.

Coughing furiously Apollo shielded his nose and mouth with his 
hand and sat up. His head immediately gave a piercing warning 
that perhaps he shouldn't have done so.

Apollo narrowed his eyes and tried to look around. The smoke was 
burning his eyes, making them water. He noticed that he wasn't 
alone in this damn place. Sire Uri was about half a metron away, 
coughing and cursing out load. He noticed Apollo and gave him an 
extremely unpleasant grin. What a good thing Apollo couldn't 
really see it in all that smoke.

"Well, hello there!" Uri grinned. "I didn't quite expect you to 
be up so soon but, what the heck, welcome to the world of the 
conscious captain..."

"What the hell happened?"

"Oh, nothing much..."

Uri paused as he concentrated on climbing to his knees, taking 
support of the wall as trying to stand up. "...I just gave you a 
bit of something to make you less annoying and considered trading 
you for a fun weekend with your father..."

The older man managed to get on his feet.

"...But then the ship somehow blew up and my delicious plans 
backfired... Can I give you a hand with that?" Sire Uri surprised 
the frack out of Apollo for actually reaching out and 
helping him up.

"... But it's never too late to try again, is it." Uri smiled. 
"Here. Lean against the wall while I look for the syringe. God 
it's smoky in here isn't it, but no worries. I'll try to do this 
as quickly as I can so we can get out of this damn 
placeaaAAAAAARRRRGGHH..." Uri's eyes bulged out of their sockets 
and his mouth popped open as his face was slowly turning bright 
red. Apollo had kicked sire Uri in the groin!

Not remaining there to watch the results of his heroic stunt, 
Apollo started down the corridor like a lupus, hoping that he 
chosen to the right direction. Uri's whimper was following him, 
little by little becoming weaker until Apollo couldn't hear it 
any more. Uri had remained far behind.

Apollo could hardly see a thing in this smoke and had to hold the 
collar of his jacket over his mouth and nose to be able to 
breathe. The smoke was getting thicker and the flames were only a 
heartbeat away from grabbing Apollo.

With a starving enthusiasm those flames were licking the walls 
and the ceiling, the stream of fire continuing to slide after 
Apollo like a huge snake, ready to devour him.

Apollo kept on fighting his way towards the chamber of Orion to 
save Aeon.

* * *

Another laser shot shuddered the Galactica.

Omega wiped sweat off his forehead as he concentrated on the 
readings on the control computer screen and continued giving 
orders to Mitch and Micky Moonshine.

Omega couldn't allow himself to get worried about the lasers or 
he would lose focus on the data. One cock-up and the streams 
would push the Galactica into a plunge and tear off the remaining 
two ailerons.

"Sir, the cylons ships are reaching us!" Dixon's voice arose. 
"They are also shooting the Aerian and the Piscean!"

"Any serious damage?"

"Not yet sir. But the sanitation ship just reported to have one 
shot on its tail-shield. It's having difficulty following the 
Galactica, even with the auto-navigation on..."

"Sir! The heliumtrioxide streams are decreasing!. The HG-
indicator shows that the X-quadrant level is now closer to 88,1."

"Good! Keep the direction unchanged. We'll reach level 70 in just 
few microns. Prepare to use navigator F on V-level. That'll ease 
the alpha particle resistance when we start doing evasive 
movements to avoid lasers..."

"Done, sir."

"We are now 4 hectares inside Du'yraan..." Omega span around in 
his chair to inform Adama. Then he turned to glance at the 
assistant navigator beside him. "...I better inform captain 
Apollo about our situation. Mitch, try if you can establish 
connection. Uni-coms should be working now that the streams are 
fading..."

"Indeed they are sir." Mitch reported. "I just had confirmation 
from the sanitation ship that they are receiving us loud and 
clear."

"Excuse me sir, but..." Observer Dixon stared at the radar screen 
puzzled.  "The Cylon squadrons seem to be receding..."

"That can't be! Switch on the delta-accuracy. We must be having 
radar failures..."

"I'm telling you sir!" Dixon's eyes were wide. "Those squadrons 
are backing off! Look out of the window!..."

* * *

Apollo realized he was lost.

He couldn't see feldercarb in the smoke and if he remembered the 
plan drawing of the Scorpion correctly, there should've been a 
corridor turning to the left ages ago, but there hadn't.

The shuddering of the ship had gotten weaker, almost unnoticeable 
now. Apollo was speculating that whatever storm had kept them in 
its clutches for a while, had now been bypassed. Apollo hoped 
that the sphere of Du'yraan had been left behind too.

Voices. And they were getting closer.

Apollo stopped to listen, ready to take a u-turn like a laser 
beam and rush back to where he had come from (which would be a 
little harder to done than said since the fire had already 
blocked out the way back) if something unwanted appeared. Oh 
Sagan how hard Apollo hoped that one of those voices belonged to 
Aeon.

The voices were becoming louder.

A hopeful grin popped on Apollo's face. There was indeed 
something familiar in one of those voices ... Although... The 
hopeful grin died.

Familiar, yes, but it didn't belong to Aeon. There was something 
disturbing in it... something... Lomas-esque! And right then 
Apollo saw him and frowned. Lomas' too familiar figure stumbled 
out of the burning inferno, three other men on his tail, all 
coughing and black-faced.

The captain inside Apollo take over. Dutifully he rushed to Lomas 
to help him and the others to get out of the burning chamber, but 
then.... Sudden unexplainable joy seized Apollo's heart when he 
realized that one of the men was Aeon.

Not being able to stop himself in time, Apollo reached out and 
pulled Aeon into a hug, whispering words of relief somewhere into 
the man's neck. Apollo closed his eyes and wanted to believe that 
this hug would last forever and ever and ever...

It didn't.

His communicator beeped.

So desperately not wanting to let go of Aeon but having to, 
Apollo pressed the tiny, red button on his wrist-com and answered 
with his ID-code. He listened for a moment, the expression on his 
face turning darker and darker by the micron. Then he ended the 
connection by pressing the tiny red button again. Apollo looked 
up.

"We have to get away from the Scorpion." Apollo was trying not to 
look at Aeon for he was now embarrassed about the hug. "The plan 
backfired. I was just informed by bridge operations coordinator 
Omega that the fleet has been forced to turn back Du'yraan to 
escape the heliumtrioxide streams and unexpected Cylon squadrons, 
which means we're in deep trouble. The awaken ones that died in 
the fire and the explosions are about to wake up again..."

It sounded so ridiculous Apollo would've laughed if the 
expression on Aeon's face had been less serious.

"You're right. We have to leave." Aeon spoke. "I believe there 
are shuttles available in the launching bay..."

"We did use most of them for evacuating the non-awaken ones..." 
Apollo realized. "...but I'm sure we can find one or two."

"Let's get going then!" Lomas was urging, eyeing the fire in the 
chamber of Orion over his shoulder. "Or we'll be roasted!"

Apollo looked around and noticed a fire exit right where they 
were standing. Miraculously it led straight to the launching bay 
sector G where Starbuck had all this time been working on the 
trail soon to be as large as the Caprican Canyon.

"APOLLO!" Starbuck let out a shriek that was undoubtedly heard 
all the way back on planet Kobol. "Where in the feldercarb have 
you been!?!!"

"I got caught in traffic." Apollo grinned as Starbuck took a dive 
into his arms and embraced the poor man so tightly that he was 
hardly able to breathe. "Calm down Starbuck. I'm okay!"

"Where were you? We waited and waited..."

"I ran into our old friend sire Uri." Apollo's tone turned 
sarcastic. "He sort of wanted me to be a part of his big plan..."

"What??" Starbuck raised one brow making Apollo grin amused.

"I'll tell it all to you later." He gently disengaged from 
Starbuck's embrace. "Right now we have to get back to the 
Galactica."

"Good idea!" Boomer's voice lingered from beside to the vipers. 
"The storm seems to have calmed down a little. This is a good 
moment to leave, except...erm... we have a bit of a problem..."

"What?" Apollo turned to look at Boomer.

"There are no shuttles. The only means of transportation is these 
three vipers or the Scorpion itself..."

"Frack. You're right!" Apollo's smile faded.

Starbuck's smile faded too, but for different reasons. He noticed 
that Lomas was there behind the three other men. What the hell 
was Lomas always doing in places where he didn't belong.

"Why don't we contact Omega now that the connections are working 
again..." Starbuck suggested to Apollo and Boomer, trying to 
forget Lomas' presence. "...and ask for a shuttle. I'm sure Giles 
or Jolly have nothing better to do than to..."

"The fire will destroy the Scorpion before Giles or Jolly get 
here." Boomer cut in. "Plus, we have one more problem..."

"Another?" Starbuck frowned. "Sounds to me like we already have a 
billion of them."

"The fleet has turned back." Boomer continued. "The awaken ones 
will be coming after us in now time. And there'll be hundreds of 
them..."

"Yes. I know." Apollo smiled darkly. "Omega contacted me..."

"Err...may I say something..." Aeon coughed. "That is not 
completely the case..."

"What do you mean?" Apollo turned to look at Aeon, still feeling 
a bit embarrassed about the hug. Aeon met his eyes, then his gaze 
lingered to Boomer.

"Yes, you're right lieutenant." Aeon spoke softly. "Some of those 
awaken ones have returned, that's true, but most of those people 
died during that centar while the Scorpion was outside Du'yraan." 
Aeon paused. "As you can probably remember, one can come back 
only if he has died in the sphere of Orion or is being yearned 
for, and since most of those geezers died outside Du'yraan, there 
ain't many of them left to want the rest of them to return. Most 
of the awaken ones didn't even know each other."

"This is making my head hurt." Starbuck mumbled with a frown. 
"How I miss those uncomplicated days when the only thing we had 
to worry about was fleeing from the cylons or finding Earth."

Nobody paid attention to Starbuck's comment.

"What about them who are still alive and well, and want to get to 
planet Orion as soon as possible. Aren't they going to try to..."

"Well, that's easy." Aeon grinned. "Let them! You don't need the 
Scorpion. You will have 219 ships left"

"You forgot one important detail." Boomer raised one eyebrow. "We 
have no shuttles. If the awaken ones take the Scorpion down to 
planet Orion, we will have to go with them!"

"Oh shit, you're right." Starbuck realized that too. "If we can't 
get off the Scorpion now, we'll
either die in the fire before the ship hits the ground or we'll 
be delivered to the hands of the awakers who will then kill us 
and send us to some mines... I'll say we have quite a pain in our 
butts here!"

"Damn!" Boomer frowned. "What are we going to do..."

"Why don't we just cram ourselves into these vipers." Starbuck 
eyed the others. "Apollo, you can sit on my lap... Boomer can 
take Aeon... My dear brother Lomas here used to be a corporal so 
he can fly a viper. I'm sure Lomas would be more than happy to 
chauffeur Astral... And Cree then, well... our friend Cree is 
already dead. He can survive a couple of flames. Why don't we 
just take a chance with the vipers?..."

"...Oh Starbuck." Apollo let out a sigh. "Simply because the 
moment we launch the vipers, they would break in half..."

"What then?..."

"I say we try to put out the fire as much as we can and fight our 
way to the cockpit of the Scorpion..." Boomer eyed the other men. 
"...fly this damn thing as close to the Galactica as we possibly 
can and then wait for the shuttle to come and pick us up..."

There was an annoying beep.

"It's my communicator." Apollo cut in. The others fell silent and 
watched the expression's on Apollo's face while he talked into 
the com. After a couple of centons Apollo disconnected the call 
and looked at the others. "We have a little problem..."

"Well that's a surprise, isn't it!" Starbuck raised one brow.

"Shut up Starbuck and listen." Apollo tossed his hand. "I was 
just informed by Omega that the Galactica and some other ships 
are in need of repairing. The laser generators of the battlestar 
are destroyed. Most of the ailerons are torn off and then there 
are some other minor damages caused by cylons. Adama has ordered 
the ships of the fleet to descend to a level approximately 30 
metrics above ground level. So it looks like we are just going to 
have to follow Boomer's plan, take our chances with the fire and 
navigate the Scorpion as close to the Galactica as we can. The 
blue launching team is already preparing for sending us a 
shuttle..."

"Great! What about the damn cylons?" Starbuck furrowed his brows. 
"Those little devils are of course following us down here as we 
speak, and if we stop the fleet, they will have unmoving targets 
in their hands..."

Apollo looked at Starbuck thoughtfully. "That's what's funny..."

"Funny?" Starbuck raised one eyebrow. "That's not quite the 
phrase I'd use myself..."

"Okay. Strange is a better word since the cylons stopped 
following the fleet. Their squadrons receded soon after the 
Galactica had turned back to Du'yraan..."

"What?" Starbuck couldn't believe his ears.

"That's the information I got from Omega." Apollo replied, also 
stunned. "But that doesn't take away all our problems. The cylons 
have remained within metrics from the Du'yraan border, on standby 
to attack as soon as we return..."

"But... for Sagan's sake..." The expression on Starbuck's face 
was dumbfounded. "I can't for the life of me understand why those 
cylons didn't follow us here!? Usually those little devils are 
persistent as frack!!..."

"Neither can I Starbuck." Apollo replied truthfully. "...But 
right now we have more important things in our hands. We have to 
survive this fire!"

"Why don't we start by switching on the sprinklers." Lomas 
suggested, eyeing around the bay trying to find a sprinkler 
switch. Everybody's eyes turned to Lomas.

"Shit. You're right." Starbuck realized, surprised as frack that 
Lomas had actually made himself useful for once. "...If we find 
one of the main switches we can get as many of them working as 
possible without too much trouble..."

"The sprinkler main switch is usually in the ship's control 
center." Boomer remembered from the spacetraveller's guide to 
spacetravel. "...But there's always one of the support systems 
placed somewhere in the launching and landing bays..."

"Let's find it then!" Apollo was already on his way. Starbuck 
went after him.

"It still doesn't fit in my head that the cylons gave up the 
chase so easily. It doesn't make any sense..."

"Don't think about it Starbuck." Apollo grinned. "The universe is 
full of unexplainable things..."

"Yeah..." Starbuck smiled. "But the truth is out there..."

* * *

"...4 point 69 hectares inside Du'yraan." Mitch's concentration 
was completely on the data. "Cylons still retreating, radar 
showing rapidly growing distance between the Galactica and the 
enemy squadrons. No longer visual contact..."

"I never thought I'd actually see this day." Adama's face was 
definitely stunned. "Those cylons must be growing soft."

"I'd give anything to be able to be a fly on the wall in Baltar's 
base ship right now." Omega murmured with a grin, not realizing 
that God actually heard his mumbles and decided to fulfill his 
wishes for a fraction of a moment...

* * *

Baltar was furiously pacing around in the throne room of his 
Cylon base ship. A monotonic report from one of the Cylon 
centurions in charge was flooding from the Com-tex.

"You rusting pieces of feldercarb!!" Baltar cut in red-faced. 
"Get your metallic butts after the Galactica or I'll come down 
there and kick dents in them..."

"No Baltar." The voice of the centurion refused. "Our religion 
forbids any living Cylon to enter the system Du'yraan. That has 
been the way through millenniums."

"You fools!" Baltar screamed into the microphone. The two Cylon 
guards standing in the throne room doorway pretended not to 
watch.

"Can't you see that the key word is LIVING damn it!! Those damn 
rules were made up AGES ago! They were made for what cylons USED 
to be!! Not for you, you damn idiots! You are machines for 
Sagan's sake! MACHINES! So stop talking feldercarb and get your 
UN-LIVING butts on the Galactica's tail before I get angry!!..."

"No Baltar. Our religion forbids any Cylon to enter the system 
Du'yraan..."

"For Chrissakes!!..." Baltar fatalistically through his hands in 
the air. "Aren't there any metallic brain cells left in your 
metallic heads!!..."

"Our religion forbids..."

"All right! All right! I got the point!" Baltar rolled his eyes. 
"Stop repeating that damn sentence for Sagan's sake. It's driving 
me crazy!..."

Baltar walked back to his throne chair and remained standing 
beside it for a couple of microns, thinking. Then he turned to 
speak to the microphone again. "Okay you idiot. You can 
congratulate yourself that it just happens to be one of my better 
days, otherwise I would've turned you into ventilation pipes!"

"By your command."

"Cut the crap and order the squadrons to continue patrolling by 
the Du'yraan border. Sooner or later the Galactica has to return, 
and when it does, you will destroy it to the last screw, you hear 
me!!..."

"By your command."

* * *

Omega stared at his hands and legs for a moment, completely 
astonished. His eyes lingered around the command bridge as if he 
had just woken up a dream. Then he looked up at Adama.
"I could've sworn..."

"What?" Adama's attention turned to Omega.

Omega didn't answer for a while. Then he shook his head with 
astonishment and made up his mind.

"Nothing." He smiled. "I'm just in need of a rest, that's all. 
It's been quite a duty shift."

"For all of us." Adama nodded. "But it's not quite over yet..."

* * *

The chamber of Orion looked like it had just witnessed a 
holocaust. Burnt bodies lay everywhere, most of them destroyed 
beyond recognition. Live ones were few. Some of them were wiping 
soot off there clothes, some still lying on the ground trying to 
come to terms with being burned, having died and come back to 
life once again.

Dimstar was one of the very few unharmed ones who never got 
burned or died in the fire in the first place. Frowning because 
his favorite flared trousers were a goddamn mess, Dimstar 
sat up and looked around to spot anyone who would be alive. He 
did. A very familiar mop of bleached hair was tottering nearby, 
the Nicael underneath trying to walk with his sprained ankle.

Nicael noticed Dimstar. "Hey! Mate! Give us a hand, will ya..."

"Where's Oscar?" Dimstar kept his eyes still lingering around the 
chamber. "I can't see him..."

"I think he's dead." Nicael said absently, being a hell of a lot 
more concerned about himself.

"No I'm not!" An annoyed reply came somewhere from underneath 
Dimstar. "Get the frack away from me so I can breathe!..."

"Oh, sorry mate." Dimstar realized he was sitting on Oscar's 
chest and quickly climbed to his feet. "Alright then matey? 
Nothing broken?"

"I've lost my left hand!" Oscar frowned. "How can I play drums 
without my left hand!!"

"With your right one." Dimstar grinned. "Hey, you need a hand to 
get up from the floor..."

"Very funny." Oscar gave Dimmy a glare. "You should've chosen to 
make a career as a comedian instead of a musician."

"Never ruled that possibility out in the first place." Dimstar 
smirked but the smirk soon died as water burst out from the 
sprinklers on the ceiling. "Shit! I hate it when my hair gets 
wet!" Dimstar frowned. "We better get out of this place..."

"Good idea." Nicael grinned. "Where shall we go? There are 
sprinklers everywhere."

"Let's rush to the launching bay." Dimstar was desperately trying 
to cover his hair with his hands. "From there we can probably 
hitch a ride to someplace drier..."

"All right! Let's get going then..."

* * *

"Approaching level beta. Bringing the equalizers to position 
seven..."Mitch's eyes didn't move from the computer screen, not 
for even a fraction of a micron. "Switching control C to position 
3,1..."

"Reducing power of the thrusters to efficiency delta sigma..." 
Micky Moonshine informed.

"Good. Now hold it for a while until I can turn up the alphawave 
decelerator..." Omega reached for one of the eight switches in 
the right hand corner of the control board and brought it down to 
level 3. "Okay. Check the angular velocity..."

"It's H point alpha, sir. Reaching target position in four 
centons..."

Adama wasn't listening to the operations feldercarb going on 
around him. His eyes were on the white planet that had once again 
become closer and closer until it's shape couldn't be told by 
looking out of the window. White, smooth surface, nothing else. 
It looked like the most uninviting place Adama had ever come 
across in his time of being a battlestar commander.
Yet it was the most intriguing...

Adama was by now very aware of what was going on. As soon as the 
connections between communicators had been re-established after 
the heliumtrioxide storm, Apollo had explained to Adama shortly, 
but extensively enough, about what had been going on.

Having seen all kinds of stuff in his time, Adama hadn't found 
the story too hard to swallow and was now keeping an open mind to 
anything Apollo might come up with as a solution. Adama had no 
doubt Apollo would make a fine commander one day.

Omega turned his head to take a glance at Adama, whose eyes were 
still on the whiteness outside the window.

"Target position reached, commander." Omega informed. "The 
Galactica is 30 metrics above ground level and the fleet has 
assembled into official formation."

"Good." Adama smiled without looking at the coordinator. "Now, 
why don't you go and fetch yourself a nice cup of coffee while 
I'm trying to make up my mind..."

"About what?" Omega's eyes were on the old commander.

"Whether to send patrols down to that planet, or not..."

"You can't be serious!" Tigh, who had returned from the 
turboflush a little while ago and was now feeling a heck of a lot 
better, turned to eye Adama with disbelief.

"You can't send patrols into that place. Not after what Apollo 
has told us..."

"Don't you see, Tigh..." Adama smiled vaguely at the planet 
outside. "That planet could be the answer to everything we have 
ever wanted to know about the universe and the human race..."

Adama turned. His eyes were shining in a way that disturbed Tigh.

"What if those awakers really are Sagans, Tigh.  What if..."

He couldn't continue.

Turning back to gaze at the white planet, Adama had already made 
up his mind...

* * *

"You look like a drowned rat, Boomer." Starbuck couldn't help 
himself from laughing. "You all do!"

"Well how about that." Boomer wasn't finding this situation very 
funny. The water from the sprinklers had made them all soaking 
wet, causing their clothes to stick onto their skin.

There were puddles the size of oceans on the launching bay floor, 
making it dangerously slippery.

"Starbuck, let's get on our way to the control center." Apollo, 
who had no time to worry about being wet was already striding off 
towards the main exit. "Once we're there, we can direct the 
Scorpion as close to the Galactica as we can. The shuttle..."

"Hang on a centon." Starbuck just realized something. "There is 
no need to take the Scorpion anywhere. The fire is being 
extinguished by the sprinklers. We now have more than plenty of 
time to wait for the shuttle to come here and rescue us."

"You have a point." Apollo halted and turned. "But what about the 
awaken ones that'll come after us?"

"Those geezers want to land on the Orion, right?" Starbuck 
grinned. "Why don't we just take them there..."

"...Because if they find us, they'll kill us first."

"Why would they want to kill you?" Cree spoke for the first time. 
"I'm one of the awaken ones and I have no desire to do so. So why 
would they?"

"All of them are not like you." Boomer found this situation of 
having a conversation with a living dead person quite 
uncomfortable. "There's sire Uri for example who..."

"Cut it out! Stop it! Please!" Starbuck couldn't take it any 
longer. Please, let's not think about anything. You..." Starbuck 
nodded towards Aeon, Lomas, Astral and Cree. "You guys stay here 
and find a place to hide while Apollo, Boomer and I get our butts 
to the control center and take this damn ship down to Orion as 
fast as we can. Once we've landed there, the awaken ones will 
have better things to do than chase us around, and since the 
Galactica will soon be, or already is only about 30 metrics above 
ground level, they can send a shuttle down there on the planet to 
wait for Lomas and all you others and take you back to the 
battlestar. Boomer, Apollo and me, we'll fly back to the 
Galactica in our vipers as soon as the Scorpion has landed."

"But...What about the so-called awakers." Boomer came to think 
about something. "Shouldn't we be a little worried about them. I 
mean... like Aeon has told us earlier, if the awakers already are 
aware of our whereabouts, won't they be able to somehow kill us 
and..."

No." Aeon replied. "The awakers cannot use any psychokinetic 
powers to do any killing, they're not that powerful. Their 
strange powers are only limited to bringing the object back to 
life."

"For heaven's sake!" Starbuck would've given his eternal soul for 
a glass of ambrosa. "Can't we please stop talking about this!"

"...The legend holds a deal." Aeon continued. "The people who are 
killed by other people before being delivered to the awakers are 
supposed to have better eternal life than the ones that are 
killed by the awakers themselves. That's the reason why commander 
Akhael committed suicide once I had fulfilled my destiny as the 
chosen one and brought the fleet to the sphere of Orion..."

"You daggit." Starbuck frowned, half jokingly, half annoyed. "So 
this is all your fault..."

Boomer gave Starbuck a warning glare.

"But..." Apollo stared at Aeon. "When we talked on the library 
ship, you said that the fleet wouldn't have been able to escape 
the awakers, right? So what's wrong with this picture now?..."

"I said that the fleet wouldn't have been able to escape the 
mercenaries..." Aeon explained. "...That us humans were lucky 
that the cylons came first because the cylons are more stupid..."

"No, no, no, no, no..." Apollo frowned. "That was not what I was 
talking about."

"What then?" Aeon raised one eyebrow.

"You told me that if our ships land on planet Orion, we wouldn't 
be able to leave again!"

"Oh, that." Aeon understood. "Yes. I was telling you the truth."

"I'm getting really confused here." Starbuck murmured.

"Then...HOW?" Apollo shrugged. "If the awakers are not all-
powerful, why for Sagan's sake couldn't we have been able to take 
off from the planet..."

"Simple." Aeon smiled. "If the legend had been fulfilled the way 
it should've been..."

"Yes?"

"Then we wouldn't have interrupted, the Scorpion would never have 
left the system Du'yraan unexpectedly, all the awaken ones would 
still be alive and returned to their home ships after the 
fathering to take control of them. The awaken ones would have 
forced all ships down to Orion and then destroyed each and every 
one of them. Us, the still normally alive ones wouldn't have had 
any means of escaping. The awakers would've gotten us all in the 
end..."

"How do we know you were never killed?" Lomas suddenly asked, 
causing Boomer to take another look at Aeon. A scrutinizing look.

"I'm very much alive in the normal way." Aeon replied calmly. "It 
is the way of the legend."

"But..."

"STOP! Just... STOP!!" Starbuck started rubbing his temples with 
his fingers. He couldn't take this any more. "Can't we please 
just take this damn ship to Orion, get rid of the awaken 
ones that are still left, prepare the damages of the ships of the 
fleet as quickly as possible, get the frack away from this damn  
place, shoot all the cylons that might be waiting for us outside 
system Du'yraan, continue our journey to Earth or someplace else 
and forget that this thing ever happened!..."

Apollo laughed. "You're right Starbuck. We've wasted enough time 
already. Let's get to control center."

"You have any idea where it is?" Boomer glanced at Apollo.

"It's on the bridge." Apollo grinned. "Where else would it be. 
Now let's get going..."

* * *

Chapter Three

Caiari Moonfall. Day 5.

Morning.

Orion had four sunrises. Each of them taking place 
unsynchronized.

The first sunrise began dawning just after midnight. It was the 
rise of the blue sun, its shimmer being what the legend had 
referred to as dark light.

Oreia was the second to arise. At the twilight-time of 
unconsciousness, Oreia was the one to awake the wind, to paint 
the world in violet mystery.

The third sunrise was the brightest. At six a.m. was the moment 
to keep one's eyes closed. To let the warmth of a new morning 
enter the dreams and your being. To feel all scents and sounds of 
earliness.

At six a.m. was the moment to believe in something that the 
fourth sunrise would soon conceal.
Ora'a was the one you barely noticed. It never conquered the 
morning sky like the three earlier suns. Its rise was not a 
change from the night. Ora'a was the intensification of colors.

This, of course, was something that Apollo and Starbuck had no 
idea about while walking in this enchanting forest of snow-
covered trees, ice-flowers and crisp winter wind.

Having landed the Scorpion approximately centar and a half ago 
and with all that hassle going on, neither Apollo nor Starbuck 
had had quite enough time to take a look at the 'Hitch-hiker's 
Guide to the Galaxy'. But if they had, they would've found out 
that the five planets forming the domain of Du'yraan, the stuff 
mentioned in the compilations of  P.F. Williard which Apollo had 
started to read on the library ship in chapter 4 before Aeon had 
interrupted him, were actually not planets at all but the four 
suns mentioned above. P.F. Williard had made many mistakes in his 
book. Thank Sagan you don't have to read that book right now.

Anyway.

The landing on the planet Orion had been a surprisingly painless 
procedure.

The sprinklers had succeeded in putting out most of the fire 
without any trouble. The awaken ones that were still alive and 
who had found their way to the launching bay had been few, and 
quite frankly, not very bothered by Aeon and the others. Once the 
ship was down, securely parked and the seatbelt lights having 
blinked off, those awaken ones (apart from Cree and the Dimstar's 
gang) had rushed off to their bright eternal future on the Orion, 
never to be seen 
again. Amongst them were Terence Stanton, Japhet Vincente and 
corporal Pimsy Storke, to mention just a few.

Lomas and Astral had been picked up by a blue team shuttle as 
soon as the Scorpion had landed.
Boomer had pointed out that his duty shift had definitely ended 
and climbed into his viper to fly back to the Galactica for a 
big, enjoyable breakfast and a hot turbowash.

Dimstar, Nicael and Oscar had been picked up by Giles' shuttle 
and taken to doctor Wilker for an examination. A voluntary one, 
of course. Not wanting to stay away from Lomas, Cree had gone to 
the Galactica to be examined with Dimstar and the others.

* * *

Aeon had appeared into the doorway of the bridge soon after 
landing, wanting to thank Apollo and the others for a successful 
ending to this idiotic story and to say goodbye. Yes, Aeon had 
wanted to tell them that he had come to a conclusion that he now 
had no place amongst the colonials and that he would have to stay 
behind on the planet Orion once the ships were ready to depart 
again.

Apollo's hair had risen towards the ceiling when he had heard 
Aeon's words. There was no way in frack would he be able to let 
Aeon go. Desperately he had been trying to come up with a normal, 
non-fishy reason for Aeon to stay when he had gotten this 
ludicrous call from Adama...

"Your father is crazy!" Starbuck kicked a lump of snow. "That's 
the only explanation why he has insisted on coming down to this 
damn place when he very well knows what a disaster this could all 
turn out to be...I mean, the awakers and all. What if those damn 
beings spot us..."

Apollo glanced at Adama, who was walking four metrons ahead of 
the rest of them, anxious to find... well... whatever there was 
to find. Starbuck was damn right, damn it. This was a huge 
mistake. Not only were they taking a big chance with the awakers 
but if someone happened to die while they were here...

Frack!

They had been walking for a centar or so, Starbuck, Apollo, Adama 
and Aeon. All men mainly quiet, lost in their own thoughts, and 
definitely not wanting to be there in the forest. Not even Aeon, 
who had sort of unwillingly volunteered, saying that he would 
have no other place to go anyway.

Apollo had been exhilarated about Aeon coming along, feeling 
guilty as hell for feeling that way and hoping to Sagans that 
Starbuck wasn't noticing...

The forest was beautiful. Snow glistening in the light of the 
fourth sun. Occasional, distant birdsong accompanying the whisper 
of the wind. Silver-colored squirrels in their winter-fur rushing 
past, carrying cones, soon disappearing up tree trunks.

Anywhere else it would've been a perfect winter's day.

Not on planet Orion.

Starbuck's toes were cold. He should've put on his boggit-fur 
boots and the snow gear they had worn on planet Kalpa. Why for 
frack's sake weren't they wearing the snow gear now. This was 
ridiculous! Ploughing through snow in pilot uniforms and mere 
earflaps. Thank Sagans it wasn't as cold here as it had been on 
planet Kalba. The temperature on Orion was only a couple of 
cekrans below zero. Very pleasant in fact, if one happened to 
like such things. Starbuck didn't.

It had started to snow. Suddenly there were fluffy flakes 
everywhere, remaining on the hair and eyelashes. 

Starbuck moved closer to Apollo and took a hold of his hand. 
"Wanna make angels in the snow, dear." Starbuck grinned. 

Apollo's face turned to a smile too as he glanced at the man 
beside him. Starbuck looked funny with snowflakes on his lashes. 
"We can make those on the way back." Apollo squeezed Starbuck's 
hand. "Right now I'd rather make snowballs in case we run into 
something that we need to defend ourselves from."

Starbuck laughed.

"Look! What's that glow behind the trees?!" Adama turned while 
pointing towards a clump of pine trees. "Look!"

There indeed was a glow.

The four men stopped.

"Looks like we've got company." Apollo furrowed his brows. "To me 
that looks like a camp-fire."

"Who in heavens could possibly be crazy enough to go camping in 
this kind of weather..." Starbuck rolled his eyes.

"Why don't we go and find out." Adama's face was unexpressionless 
and commander-like but his eyes were shining excitedly. "It might 
be someone who can tell us about the legend of the human race..."

"...Then again it might be something with an appetite for people 
like us." Starbuck mumbled.
"I don't think I quite want to end my life in a barbecue..."

"Let's at least move a little closer so we can see something." 
Adama was already on his way towards the pine trees.

Very reluctantly Apollo and the others went after him. Aeon was 
the last to follow.

Quietly Adama crept as close to the trees as he dared. The glow 
from the camp fire had made his face alive with moving shadows.

Careful not to make the snow rustle, Apollo crept to his father's 
side...

Indeed, there was a camp fire.

There was also an old man with a gray beard and a lizards tail, 
holding a stick in his hands and there was something that looked 
like a sausage tucked into the end of that stick. The old man 
turned and waved.

"Hi ya fellas!" He grinned revealing a row of yellow teeth. "Why 
don't you come and join me instead of squatting in the bushes. I 
sure could use some company after all these centuries..."

Feeling ridiculous like busted children, Apollo and the others 
stood up behind the pine trees and walked to the weird old man by 
the fire.

"It's been quite a while since I've seen anyone else but me." The 
old timer beamed. "Here, take a sausage each and sit down. Tell 
me what brings to this desolate place..."

* * *

After having landed on the Galactica, Dimstar, Nicael, Oscar and 
Cree were taken to the life center where doctor Wilker and the 
android doctor Salik had already been expecting them, 
disinfecting the means of medical examination when the boys 
walked in. Doctor Wilker turned.

"Welcome, gentlemen." He smiled. "Why don't you take off your 
tunics and boots. You will shortly be given a little decom 
injection to rule out any possibility of gamma infection..."

Oscar had noticed the android doctor Salik the moment they had 
stepped in and was now staring at the guy, intrigued. "Hey I 
didn't know you survived the fire." Oscar grinned. "You live 
around 
here or..."

"What??" Wilker almost dropped one of the syringes he was 
disinfecting.

"Not you." Oscar frowned and pointed at Salik. "I saw him in the 
gathering. Is he here to be examined too? He has a nice pair 
of..."

"Oh!" A sudden comprehending grin spread on Wilker's face as he 
realized what Oscar was talking about.

"Salik was one of you!??!" Wilker's grin turned a little 
melancholically as he started reminiscing the good old days. 
"Damn shame I didn't have a chance to catch up with him. I still 
miss my that old daggit."

Oscar stared at Wilker.

"What do you mean you didn't have a chance to catch up with him? 
He's right there beside you..."

Wilker laughed. "No, my dear boy. This gorgeous guy here is a 
drone. Built from mainly dixterion-particles and sencaton. 
Pretty, isn't he..."

"What are you going to do with us doctor?" Nicael cut in, 
uninterested in the drone feldercarb.

"I don't quite know." Wilker smiled at the bleached mop of hair. 
"I haven't quite come across a situation like this before. 
Examining dead people that are alive... But I'm hoping to find a 
cure of some kind and bring you back to being alive without 
death... Now please, why don't you take off your tunics. I'll be 
back in a centon..."

Dimstar watched Doctor Wilker walking to the door and 
disappearing from the life center.

"Think about it guys! We might be able to become normal again!"

"Well, how about that." Nicael mumbled.

Cree wasn't listening to what the others were speaking. His eyes 
kept lingering to Lomas who was sitting by Astral's bed in the 
next sector of the sick bay, holding the blond man's hand and 
gently caressing it.

Astral had gotten a couple of 2nd degree burns, plus he had to be 
put through the DRD-system to clear the remaining smoke from his 
lungs.

Astral turned his eyes away from Cree and met Lomas' gaze.

"He's looking at you." Astral said softly.

Lomas didn't answer.

God it hurt Lomas seeing Astral lying there injured. He would've 
done anything at all to be able to take Astral's place.

"How are you feeling, angel." Lomas lifted Astral hand to his 
lips and kissed it.

"Kind of like after being barbecued." Astral grinned. "But I'll 
survive, I think."

Lomas smiled.

He let go of Astral's hand and gently touched Astral's face, 
softly caressing his cheek, all the while staring into those 
green jewel eyes. "So much has happened..." Lomas whispered 
quietly.

Astral laughed. "To put it mildly, yes."

Lomas smiled. "...But the thing that makes my heart shine like a 
sun is that..."

Astral's eyes were on Lomas, waiting for the man to continue.

Lomas took Astral's hands again. "... I have realized that I 
truly am cured." Lomas' eyes were now like two stars. "When I saw 
Cree the first time two days ago, I thought that all the fear and 
hatred were still a part of me, I was so devastated because I 
believed that I would never be free from the dark rivers of my 
mind..." Lomas squeezed Astral's hands harder. "...God, you 
couldn't even begin to know how it was tearing me apart to be 
slowly drowning in the darkness of perhaps never being able to 
share my world with you..." Lomas closed his eyes. "I would have 
rather died."

Astral swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat. 
"Please stop saying such things."

"...But when I realized that it wasn't me who was created the 
world of visions around myself to escape the things inside...That 
the things were in fact real..." Lomas' eyes were now open, 
gazing so intensely into Astral's that Astral had to look away. 
"I really have changed..." A beautiful smile lingered to Lomas' 
face. "I really am free... I'm just like everyone else..."

Suddenly Lomas arose from the bedside and knelt beside Astral, 
still holding the man's hands in his own. Oh god! Astral's heart 
took a leap, fearing the worst.

"My angel..." Lomas' pale eyes were on Astral. "You are the only 
thing that I am living for..."

Astral was wishing the ground beneath him would open up and 
swallow him. Lomas was squeezing his hands so hard it hurt. 
"..."Will you get sealed to me?" Lomas paused, holding his 
breath. A total silence cascaded.

Astral felt his hair raising towards the ceiling, especially when 
he realized the word that his lips were going to form. Astral 
closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Yes." He whispered. "yes, I will get sealed to you Lomas. I will 
be yours forever and ever..."

* * *

"Don't tell me you believe in that feldercarb..." The old man 
grinned, once again revealing that row of ugly, yellow teeth.

He had just heard Adama's description about the legend of Orion 
and what adventures the colonials had gone through since having 
entered the system Du'yraan.

Starbuck hadn't been able to stop staring at the man's blank 
white eyes from the moment they had sat down beside the fire.

"... Don't tell me you believe that shit about us being Sagans 
and all..." The man croaked with laughter.

"Us... You mean, You?..." Apollo was sure he had heard wrong.

"Sure." The old man smirked. "I'm one of those so-called awakers. 
I can't believe you've actually swallowed all that feldercarb..."

Apollo stared at the man feeling unreal like Alice when having 
suddenly wondered to wonderland. "But... err... we actually 
experienced the things that were described in that 
legend..."

"Oh sure." The man grinned. "It's not all total bullshit. But if 
you believe that the legend actually holds any true meaning these 
days, you guys will be in for a huge disappointment. The stuff is 
all out of date big time..."

"Hold on a centon..." Apollo was getting more and more confused. 
"How can it be out-of-date-feldercarb if we have just witnessed 
people coming back from death and you are sitting here in front 
of us, claiming to actually be one of the awakers..."

"I hate that name." The old man frowned. "Why don't you call me 
Lutherus. It 
sounds less pompous."

"Where did you get that lizard's tail, Lutherus?" Starbuck 
couldn't hide his curiosity any longer. Apollo frowned and gave 
his blond, painfully unthinking lover a warning glare. Starbuck 
ignored it.

"This old thing?" The man grinned at glanced at his tail. "Oh, 
it's such a long story. I don't think you want to hear it. It all 
begins on a distant, shiny planet called Earth..."

* * *

The chamber of Orion was now a silent, blackened reminder of the 
disaster that had taken place in there a little earlier. Burned 
out bodies were laying everywhere, the stench of death was  
starting to slowly fade.

A figure of a man moved. He moaned as he sat up, wiped the soot 
and dust off his clothes and then sighed as he brought his hands 
to his face. He had no face. It had been destroyed by the fire. 
He had no hair, there wasn't even any skin left.

One of the man's eyeballs had exploded in the heat, there was 
merely a socket left, the fundus torn and blackened. Commander 
Akhael had turned out like a monster. He didn't give a shit.

Stepping on fragile, burnt remains of what used to be people, 
Akhael walked out of the chamber, his footsteps making a sound 
like walking on broken glass.

The corridor outside looked equally as depressing. Melted metal 
had solidified on the walls and the ceiling like thick liquid had 
turned to ice. The only difference was that outside, in the 
corridor, there were no bodies.  At least, not very many.

Not remaining there to enjoy the view, sire Akhael... or rather, 
what was left of him... grabbed the handle of the fire exit, 
opened the door and started heading down the hallway to the 
launching bay, not noticing that he was being followed by just as 
equally burned sire Uri.

Uri had been circling the corridors for a while now, trying to 
find his way out of the damn place or bump into someone who could 
tell him what the frack had happened and point the way to the 
right direction.

Uri had began to believe he was the only one alive in the whole 
world until he had spotted something that had vaguely looked like 
sire Akhael disappearing through the fire exit doorway.

Glad to have spotted some company, Uri had hurried after him.

* * *

Adama had to use all this willpower not to dash to his feet and 
dive towards the old man to take a hold of his collar and shake 
him.

Adama swallowed. "Excuse me, but... Did you say Earth?"

"Yep. That's the place." The old man - Lutherus grinned. "Nice 
planet. Such a shame what happened to it..."

This time it was Apollo who had to remind himself to stay calm. 
"Err... So, what happened?"

"As I said. It's a long story, you don't wanna hear it..."

Adama's face turned purple.

"...But on the other hand..." Lutherus smiled. "...What's the 
rush. We've got fire and sausages, we've got good company... Yes. 
I might as well tell you how it all began..."

* * *

"Commander!" Uri shouted startling sire Akhael.

The commander turned.

"Sire. What an intriguing surprise." Akhael smiled with the 
burned remains of what used to be his lips. "Going my way 
perhaps?..."

"I'm going whatever way takes me out of this place." Uri reached 
Akhael's side. "I'm sorry that I missed the gathering but 
something unexpected came up."

Akhael eyed around the burned hallway and grinned sarcastically. 
"Yes. Something certainly did."

"Not the fire." Uri hurried to correct. "I wasn't talking about 
that..."

"Whatever it was, it doesn't matter now." Akhael turned to go. 
"Besides, you didn't miss a thing..."

"What are we going to do now?" Uri followed Akhael, having to 
hasten his steps to catch up with the commander again. "Are we 
still proceeding with the original plan?"

"And what was that?" Akhael was striding forward without taking a 
moment to glance at Uri.

"Well, the legend of course." Uri's eyes were surprised that 
Akhael didn't realize that. "Isn't that why we're here?"

"I don't know about you..." Akhael finally turned and looked at 
Uri. "...But I'm on my way to fulfill what I started."

"You're actually going to find the awakers?" Uri's voice rose an 
octave. "Mind if I come with you? I've been looking forward to 
meeting those dudes since the moment I died the first time."

"I don't care." Akhael replied absently. "Do whatever you want 
to."

Together, the two burned men headed down the hallway. A mild 
smell of destructed human flesh lingered after them...

* * *

Apollo, Starbuck, Aeon and Adama stared dumbfounded at Lutherus 
as the old man took his sausage off the stick, sniffed it and 
then figured it wasn't quite done yet so he put it back and 
continued barbecuing it. Lutherus looked up and met the 
disbelieving gaze oh the three men.
"I like my sausages hot." Lutherus smiled. "An old habit..."

"Really." Starbuck had made up his mind. The old man was crazy as 
Mr. Loopyloo from Loonyland.

"Yes, old habits die hard..." Adama knew he had to appear polite 
even though he sure as frack wasn't feeling that way. "...But why 
don't you begin your story Lutherus. I'm sure I speak for all of 
us when I say that we would very much like to hear it..."

"Yes." Lutherus replied absently. "My story..."

He shifted his position, his eyes gazing at the fire, his mind 
traveling way, way back to a galaxy far, far away...

A long, long time ago, a race was born. A human race.

No one knows how this race actually came to be, but the first 
place the race has been documented on having been seen was a 
place called Earth. A planet of most charming nature. A planet of 
peace and advanced technology.

Yes, all those uncountable, incomprehensible time units ago, the 
human race was the race that had the most advanced technology in 
the universe. The humans had weapons that never killed anyone, 
they were able to broadcast live theater performances all over 
the universe, their satellites were made of recycled garbage and 
that same garbage was also used over and over again as food. 
Believe it or not, it actually tasted delicious!

The humans had the best rockets, the best turbo cycles and the 
best space ships in the world and they made voyages all over the 
universe to spread the word of peace and love.

Then came the dinosaurs.

Those disgraceful animals that were originally born from the 
fish, developed into ground-stalking carnivores and started 
terrorizing the humans.

Raping both men and women, eating their children, enslaving the 
young ones and simply acting like the later-to-be roman emperors, 
who in fact happen to be descendants of the ones who had been 
raped by those dinos, the dinosaurs' aim was to wipe the human 
race completely off of the map. Why? No one knows. There used to 
speculations that the dinosaurs were jealous of the way the 
humans looked but

Anyway. In the middle of all that distruction, a few people 
succeeded in escaping in ships and those people headed towards 
the unknown to find a new place to live..."

"I'm getting very tired of hearing that." Starbuck mumbled.

Apollo kicked him in the shin.

"The dinosaurs weren't exactly lucky themselves..." Lutherus 
continued. "A couple of meteors the size of the Himalayas (Don't 
ask.) wiped those lizards off the face of the Earth and for a 
little while, the planet was conquered by snow and ice. Then came 
the monkeys but that's another story and might be told some time 
else. And then again it might not."

Lutherus took a little breather. His eyes moved from Apollo to 
Starbuck, then lingered for a little while on Aeon before finally 
moving to Adama. Suddenly his eyes shot back to Aeon.

"Well, I'll be damned." The old man's brows arose. "It's you!"

"Who's who?" Adama missed the plot for a micron.

"The chosen one..." Apollo mumbled hastily. "I'll explain 
later..."

"Yes." Aeon smiled. "That part of the legend wasn't feldercarb."

"You sure are a sight for sore eyes, lad." Lutherus commented. 
"And all my life I've thought that the picture of the chosen one 
was just some poor man's fantasy..."

"Who painted the picture?" Starbuck asked, curious.

"No one." Aeon glanced at Starbuck. "It has always existed."

"This sure is a day for surprises." Lutherus' smile was wide. 
"Not only do I find company after having spent a ridiculous 
amount of millenniums alone but one of them actually turns out to 
be the chosen one..." Lutherus paused and winked. "... Whatever 
that means..."

Lutherus continued gazing Aeon for a while without saying 
anything. Then he took a deep breath, changed his sitting 
position for a more comfortable one for to his tail was starting 
to get numb and continued with the telling of with the story.

So, the humans were now refugees, searching for a place to call 
home.

Unpredictably soon after having left Earth, the humans arrived on 
a white planet they had never before heard of, although having 
traveled all over the universe. That white planet was Orion.

* * *

"Wait for me!" Uri whined from a couple of metrons behind. "My 
toes are freezing! I have snow in my boots! What are we doing in 
this damn forest anyway? I thought you had a plan..."

"I do have a plan." Akhael didn't bother to slow down. "I'm 
planning to find the awakers."

"How can you be sure you can recognize them?" Uri glared at the 
snow and the trees around him. He hated this forest. "I mean, how 
do know what they look like? They could be four-dimensional for 
Sagan's sake and invisible to us, or what did I hear about them 
being actually Sagans! How can you see or talk to a Sagan..."

"Cut the crap Uri." Akhael was getting pissed.

"Why do want to see the awakers?" Uri determinedly kept plowing 
through the snow. "What do we need them for. We already are 
eternal..." Uri paused. "...Aren't we?"

It was starting to snow harder. Uri noticed that Akhael wasn't 
paying any attention to him any more so he fell quiet. The forest 
became the sound of windy whispers...

* * *

"By the way, you don't happen to have any whisky with you, do 
you?" Lutherus' eyes lingered from one man to another. "I kind of 
miss that poison..."

"What?" Starbuck stared at mister Loopyloo.

"Whisky." Lutherus smiled. "It's sort of a drink that curls up 
your toenails. We used to have quite a bit of that stuff back in 
the good old days..."

"No, but we have ambrosa stocked somewhere on the Rising Star..." 
Starbuck raised one eyebrow. "That's also the kind of stuff that 
curls up your toenails if it's old enough."

"Sounds like wine." Lutherus grimaced. "I never quite got the 
taste of that grapy thing. I'm more of a hard stuff kinda guy."

"Would you both please stop using that 'kind of' phrase." Adama 
frowned. "And I don't mean to be impolite but my butt is kinda 
starting to freeze here..."

"I'm sorry." Lutherus smiled apologetically. "I've been living on 
this planet for so long I sort of took granted that your butts 
are as used to the cold as mine."

"Please go on with the story." Apollo almost begged.

"Yes, yes. Of course." Lutherus remembered. "Where was I?"

"The humans landed on planet Orion." Starbuck reminded.

Oh yes indeed." Lutherus remembered. "This Orion planet sure was 
a funny place."

"How?" Starbuck's head was beginning to ache again.

"You see... for quite some time before the humans arrived, the 
planet of winter as Orion was then called, had been merely an 
infrequent stopping point for outlaws and occasional miners 
trying their luck in searching for gold. Then, when the humans 
came, everything changed.
But not immediately, of course."

Not suspecting anything unusual about the place, the few humans 
that had survived the dinosaurs settled on the planet and lived 
there peacefully for a couple of dozen yahrens fairly isolated 
from the rest of the universe.

Having however lost all their assets when forced to flee from the 
dinosaurs, the humans were soon beginning to discover that their 
lives were changing, they were gradually sliding into the 
awaiting jaw of poverty. Unable to built new starships due to 
lacking the needed material, the humans watched helplessly as 
their old ships kept deteriorating to the point of unusuability, 
their little houses starting to fall apart and food soon becoming 
a constant worry since they now couldn't afford to buy it from 
any other planet.

In the end, having even lost the few means of communication they 
had still had left, the human communities became loners of the 
star world, completely cut off from the rest of the universe.
To put it in layman terms: They fell in deep feldercarb.

Not having any other choice left if wanting to survive, the 
strong ones in the families were forced to leave their loved ones 
behind and travel up north to go and work in ancient, abandoned 
mines that later became known as the mines of midland, in the 
hope that they might find gold.

They didn't. They found black silver instead. The most precious 
metal in the universe.

Once again things changed. The incredible riches of Orion became 
known all over star systems and soon travelers, gamblers, 
traders, hustlers, dekar dealers, pirates... you name it... had 
found their way to that distant planet.

Ones to arrive were Kahikians. Green, scaly covered, greedy 
beings that declared a war with the humans, killing most of them.

That was the very point in time when the dark secret of the Orion 
was discovered.

One could not die.

"The awakers." Starbuck whispered to Apollo. "I was wondering 
when he'd get to that."

"Actually..." Lutherus' eyes turned to Starbuck. "The awakers 
have absolutely nothing to do with that stuff. It's all the 
doings of the planet. The awakers just... well... I'll get to 
that. There are a few things I have to tell first so you'll 
understand those so-called awakers a little better."

Adama shifted to a better sitting position and urged Lutherus to 
go on with the legend.

And so he did.

When the Kahikians realized they couldn't kill the humans, a 
gleam of sadism arose into their eyes and they came up with an 
even better idea to use people.

So... All humans were gathered together. The ones having still 
been normally alive at this point were killed, awaited to return 
and then clustered together with the previously returned ones to 
be taken to the mines of midland and Avert'os. This all happened 
eternities ago. I won't even try to describe the terms of 
duration to you. You couldn't possibly understand.

"Why for frack's sake didn't those people revolt against those 
frogs, whatever they were called. If I had been there I 
would've..."

"Be quiet Starbuck." Adama warned.

Lutherus smiled. "What you don't realize, Starbuck... You mind if 
I call you by your name?"

"Err, No..."

"Great." Lutherus kept smiling. "So, Starbuck. What you seem to 
forget is that these people that got killed in the domain of 
Du'yraan and came back from death were not like they had been 
before. Death changes a man."

"Really?" Starbuck snorted.

"You see..." Lutherus ignored the snort. "...the existence on the 
other side is pure chaos and once you are exposed to disorder of 
the way the entirety of everything is, it leaves its mayhem in 
you. If you come back, you cannot comprehend the world of this 
side any longer. One is never supposed to return from the chaos 
of death..."

"I couldn't have said it more clearly myself." Starbuck rolled 
his eyes. 

Apollo repressed a smile.

"So... and I'm returning back to the story now..." Lutherus 
pointed out "...those people had by now changed. No one knew what 
they held in their minds but what the Kahikians realized was that 
those human had become controllable. A true advantage as far as 
the Kahikians were concerned."

"What about the white." Apollo asked. "What does it have to do 
with the other side... Or does it have to do anything with it..."

Lutherus smiled. "The white is nothingness of content. The heart 
of all chaos."

"Just what I thought." Starbuck rolled his eyes.

"What happened to those awaken humans?" Adama stared at Lutherus.

"They became slaves." Lutherus' eyes met Adama's. "Most of them 
were sent to the mines, endless caves to acquire black silver."

"Poor geezers!" Starbuck sighed.

"But..." Lutherus' voice changed a little. Hardly noticeably. 
"...Before sending the humans into the mines, the Kahikians 
picked out the most stimulating ones. Meaning that if you 
happened to own a handsome face or a nice set of... whatever, you 
didn't have to go and do hard labor in the mines with the common 
people but you were taken to the luxurious habitats of Kahikian 
generals, captains or dekar dealers and, in addition to doing a 
little cleaning here and there, you were expected to pleasure 
them in every way they wanted you to..." Lutherus paused. He eyed 
the others and there was a little unreadable smile on his face. 
"I was one of the hand-picked ones."

"Uh huh." Starbuck stared at the old man with the gray bushy 
beard.

"Hey, I used to be quite a handsome fella!" Lutherus noticed 
Starbuck's stare and grinned. "Don't forget I've lived for a 
thousand millenniums. You don't actually think that you would 
look quite that charming after a dozen of centuries, do you..."

"Well..." Starbuck grinned.

Apollo gave him yet another glare.

"So..."  Lutherus fell back to reminiscing. His sausage had 
burned black ten centons ago. He didn't notice. Or perhaps that 
was the way he liked it.

"Eighty yahrens went past. Eighty yahrens I served in the palace 
of lord Sikh, the highest one. Such happy yahrens those were for 
me..." Lutherus smiled melancholically. "...But then, things 
started going a little downhill. The mines ran out of black 
silver. The Orion was gradually returning to being a desolate 
outpost, and  in no time all the traders, pirates and other 
animals had gone. The Kahikians, us the hand-picked ones and the 
rest of the living dead humans had ended up alone together.

Not one Kahikian had died yet, but one morning they all woke up 
and realized they would actually end up exactly like the humans 
were now, shells of unrationality. Lost souls.

Definitely not wanting that to happen, the Kahikians packed their 
bags, took everything that was remaining of the incredible riches 
of the Orion, which was not much, and left. That gave us, the 
hand-picked ones an opportunity..."

Adama too had forgotten about his sausage. It had dropped off the 
stick and burned to ashes in the fire. "What kind of an 
opportunity?"

Lutherus smiled. "An opportunity to become Sagans. Emperors of 
the universe. Worshipped."

Apollo, Starbuck and Adama stared at the old man, waiting for him 
to continue.

"As I told you, the Kahikians had chosen a couple of nice looking 
blokes from the crowds of humans, and those blokes had been 
treated more like classy servants and sex toys than slaves.
Living in the middle of plenty, surrounded by everything one 
could ever dream of in those nice palaces built of silthmar and 
gold, eating exquisite buthana leaves and daa'ia roe, sleeping 
sinfully late in the mornings... We kinda got used to all the 
extravaganza and didn't want to return to being common amongst 
the common people who had been working in the mines. So we 
became higher beings. We declared ourselves the ones with the 
ability of the planet, The ability to bring the dead to life. We 
continued enslaving the rest of the people because the greed and 
lust for power was now running in our veins. Millenniums went 
past and we kinda forgot that we actually were just living dead 
humans, and so did the others too. The legend of the awakers was 
being born. We were becoming a myth. Life was great.

Our ways became more and more cruel over those yahrens, we 
despised those who were our slaves and came up with more and more 
inventive ideas to exploit and torture them. And believe me..." 
Lutherus smirked. "We were inventive!"

"But how did it all change?" Apollo stared at the man. "The 
legend describes how a slave who was coded... what was it... X-
552 realized that..."

"Oh, him." Lutherus snorted. "I was just getting to that..."

"Please go on." Adama urged.

Being cruel like we were..." Lutherus continued. "We wanted more 
and more slaves to play with, so we let the awakened ones breed 
in a controlled environment. We controlled the number of 
offspring's, killed them to make them eternal, and trained them 
to do more and more nasty things the older they got."

Lutherus sighed.

"Yahrens continued to fly past until... I think it was the 
seventh generation, the point in time when we had already ran out 
of names to give people and had started using codes... when X-552 
had reached his adult age and experienced his illumination."

"I have no idea how, but it seems that X-552 came to realize 
there was so much more to life that what the humans were at that 
point experiencing. He started spreading his knowledge and 
gathering secret groups to plan escape."

"We, the awakers, had no idea what was happening at first but 
when the word of this rebellion started spreading, we became 
furious and punished everyone we got our hands on. It didn't 
help.
Despite of our actions, the rebel groups kept growing and those 
escape plans were being made and then came the day when they 
succeeded.

A group of humans that had beaten the chaos of their mind, stole 
a couple of the junky spaceships that the Kahikians had left 
behind to rust, and fled from the domain of Du'yraan."

Being useless junk as those spaceships were, the fugitives hardly 
made it to the nearest planet. We would've captured them right 
there and then if those fortunate bastards hadn't succeeded in 
getting a lift right under our noses. We were furious.

We contacted the mercenaries of Diphilion, the ones that had the 
reputation of being the bloodthirstiest devils in the universe 
and once they came to us, we killed them to make them as eternal 
as those humans were.

The mercenaries were of course consenting to the being reborn 
stuff. There is no way we could have been able to kill them 
otherwise. The daggits were covered from head to toe with the 
most feared weapons in the universe.

So, those mercenaries continued chasing the human refugees for 
centuries but for a reason I just can't comprehend, they never 
succeeded in catching them. The track of those slaves was 
completely lost until...

"...Until the humans were tracked to planet Kobol." Apollo ended 
the sentence remembering what Aeon had told him. "...from there 
they escaped again, just in the nick of time, most of them to end 
up in the twelve colonies that are so familiar to us colonials, 
the thirteenth tribe continuing its journey, trying to find its 
way back to Earth..."

"...Where it all had begun from in the first place." Lutherus 
grinned. "Ironic, isn't it."

"Very." Apollo nodded. "But what about the time those people 
spent on planet Kobol. I mean, according to our legend the first 
people that were born were the lords of Kobol. We still celebrate 
the birthday of the first one..."

"As I've told you, all human life began on Earth." Lutherus' eyes 
were on Apollo. "Once the refugees reached the place what you 
came to know as planet Kobol, they thought that they were safe. 
They were willing to take a risk to begin a new life."

Lutherus paused. He eyed his burnt sausage for a while, furrowed 
his brow and then looked up at Apollo. "Still not quite done. 
How's yours?"

"Errr... Fine thanks." Apollo mumbled.

"If you don't like your sausage you can have mine." Lutherus 
offered like a gentleman. "In fact, we can all share our 
sausages. I haven't shared anything for such a long time..."

"Please go on with the story..." Apollo pleaded.

"Okay." Lutherus frowned.

The old man's eyes lingered on the fire as he continued. "So, As 
you know by now, the refugees that first landed on that planet 
Kobol were ancient blokes, never been able to die on Orion..."

"Yes... So?"

"Now, however, things had changed. The circumstances had become 
different and so a new generation was given birth to. A 
generation of mortals..."

"The lords of Kobol." Adama whispered.

"...And once the first generation of people born on the planet 
Kobol had reached adult age, the original refugees committed mass 
suicide. Yes, all of them died."

Lutherus saw the look on the faces of the others. "You must 
remember that it is only the sphere of Orion you cannot die in. 
Once you get killed somewhere else, you're history..."

"Yes, of course." Adama nodded. "That's how we managed to get rid 
of most of the fleet's awakened ones."

"...And, as I just said, the first generation of Kobol was not 
eternal. They were normal human beings who became a legend to 
you. Those were the lords of Kobol you speak of and it was their 
descendants that were the ones to escape from planet Kobol when 
the mercenaries arrived."

A moment's silence, broken only by the rustling of the fire. 
Lights were dancing on the faces of the five men.

"Hey, I just came to think of something." Starbuck's forefinger 
popped up to signal he had a point to make. "If our forefathers 
were so incredibly skilled both technically and in other 
areas of life, how come we're not. I mean, our weapons definitely 
do kill, we cannot eat recycled satellites or spread world peace 
in a way that others would find it alluring..."

"Those magnificent human skills rusted during all the uncountable 
time units." Lutherus replied, still not taking his gaze off the 
fire.  "Theories became forgotten, formulas got lost, goals 
changed..."

"Ummm...You still haven't told us how you got that tail." 
Starbuck's eyes lingered to the green, tube-like thing that was 
growing from the old man's butt.

"Pretty isn't it." Lutherus smiled. "That's a reminder of my 
father. You see, I'm one of descendants of the dinosaurs."

"Of course." Starbuck was beginning to be in desperate need of a 
fumarello. Unfortunately he didn't have any left. "How stupid of 
me to ask..."

"My dinosaur father raped my human mother and I was born in the 
middle of the civil war.
Did I mention that the war lasted for twenty-five yahrens. I was 
a brisk lad with an adventurous nature when I fled from Earth 
with my mother and the others."

"Didn't those ancient roman emperors you mentioned about have 
lizard tails?" Starbuck pondered. "You said they were descendants 
of the dinosaurs..."

"They were much later decedents." Lutherus grinned. "The tail-
gene had already become a latent feature. They looked like normal 
human beings."

Apollo was thoughtful for a micron. "Lutherus. The legend has it 
that both, the awakers and those bloodthirsty mercenaries are 
still chasing us, aiming to re-enslave the humans..."

"Yes?" Lutherus' eyes turned to Apollo.

"...Well, now that I've been listening to your story and having 
heard that the awakers are not Sagans at all but merely power-
hungry humans... Is there any truth to that possibility that we 
might still being hunted?"

"Oh yes." Lutherus nodded emphatically. "Those mercenaries are 
still on your tail and they will continue to be until someone 
finally kills them. They won't be able to die if they are not 
killed."

"I guess we have to go and kill them then." Starbuck raised his 
eyebrows.

"What about the awakers? What about... You?" Apollo's eyes were 
still on the old man.

"Oh, we've changed a long time ago." Lutherus grinned. "Most of 
us so-called awakers have left the domain of Du'yraan to find a 
place where they can finally die... In fact, I'm the last one 
left and I have no desire to enslave you. You see, our cruelty 
and hunger for power has sort of faded over the millenniums. We 
have became old men with the old man's sense and knowledge. We 
have realized that peace, love and equality are much more giving 
than any hunger for something you will never quite achieve. Once 
you start wanting, you will never stop. There is no such thing as 
Enough...

Besides. We were never any awakers with special powers to begin 
with. In time it became sort of laborious to keep up such a 
charade so we ended up being satisfied just being ourselves. In 
other words..." Lutherus smiled. "We kind of became...how can I 
put it...comfortably numb. And I'm the only one left."

"But the legend came true." Aeon spoke up, causing all eyes 
turning towards him. "The chosen one was born. - Me. I did bring 
the humans back to Du'yraan. The leader of the circle killed 
himself and returned from death..."

"Perhaps it only came true because you believed in it." Lutherus 
scratched his head. Starbuck could have sworn he saw a couple of 
fleas jumping out from the mop that was the old man's hair.
"...Just like someone's fate only becomes reality because that 
person believes so strongly in it and acts in a certain way..."

"Aeon." Apollo turned to look at the man of beauty. "When we met 
in the library and you told me your story..."

"Yes?" Aeon's eyes lingered to Apollo.

"It's not the exact same story that we have heard from Lutherus." 
Apollo got lost in Aeon's eyes and had to fight to remember what 
he was saying. "The story you told me has divergents... Many 
divergents..."

"That's because what I was telling you was the legend." Aeon 
smiled softly. 

"Something that I had only visions about in my head. Something I 
never experienced. Lutherus here, on the other hand, has lived 
through all of it. The things that he is telling you are the 
facts, mine were merely the legend."

"But... What about that picture of you?" Apollo was still staring 
at Aeon, enchanted.

Starbuck was beginning notice. The expression on the blonde 
warrior's face turned darker although he tried to fight the 
jealousy. Starbuck trusted Apollo. It still felt bad though.

"That picture..." It was Lutherus who replied, gazing into the 
fire. "...as well as the plausibility of the legend of the chosen 
one and why you guys ended up fulfilling it all..."

There was a little pause.

Lutherus lifted his eyes and met the gaze of the others.

"...All that, my friends, will always remain a mystery..."

The fire was beginning to die out but it was till strong enough 
to create shadows on the faces of the men sitting around it. 
Nobody really wanted to break the silence that had fallen after 
Lutherus' last words.

"Those suns look more like moons." Starbuck was staring up at the 
sky which was beginning to darken and become filled with stars.

The day on the Orion was short, lasting merely three or four 
centars. (Five in the summertime).
The first sun to set, which in fact was the fourth one to rise in 
the morning, the intensifying sun, had already fallen to the 
horizon. It was still light, but the landscape had become faded, 
like in photographs where the reality is never quite as 
exquisite.

"Nobody move!"

"What the..." Adama dropped the stick he was holding and turned 
to take a look behind from where the voice had come from.

The bushes wiggled and rustled furiously as Akhael's faceless 
head popped up from behind them, and in the blink of an eye, the 
rest of the living dead commander had dived to the side of the 
campfire, holding a X-magnated laser shooter and pointing it 
towards the men sitting around the fire. Something that reminded 
of sire Uri had remained peeking in the bushes. Apollo frowned as 
he saw it.

"Good evening." Akhael always remembered his manners. "I'm a 
little cold after hiking in the forest, so I hope you don't mind 
that I'm going to get right to the point."

"By all means." Lutherus was intrigued. "So many visitors in so 
little time. I must admit I'm quite surprised. I haven't seen 
anyone in a thousand yahrens or so..."

"You must be one of us awakened ones." Akhael's brows popped up. 
"I thought all of you escaped from the clutches of the awakers a 
long, looooong time ago."

"Not all of them." Lutherus smiled. "Some of the common people 
got so used to being slaves that they stayed behind."

"And you are one of the common people." Akhael decided.

"Heavens no!" Lutherus eyed this ugly thing in front of him. "I 
mean, yes, sort of."

Slowly now, the gunpipe still pointing at each person, one at a 
time, Akhael walked closer to the old man.

Uri was still hiding in the bushes.

"What do you mean sort of..." Akhael stared at Lutherus.

"Oh, please don't tell me I have to start the whole story all 
over again!" Lutherus frowned. "I'll never get to eat my 
sausage..."

"What story?" Akhael had no time for stories. "I came here to 
look for the awakers. You don't happen to know anything about 
their whereabouts, do you old man."

"Lo and behold!" Akhael grinned. "I almost didn't notice..."

"What?" Akhael eyed Lutherus down his burned nose.

"You're one of us!" Akhael beamed. "You're an awakened one, 
aren't you. Boy, I almost didn't notice."

"Yeah..." Akhael sneered. "So?"

"Welcome to Orion my son." Lutherus opened his arms. "What brings 
you to this desolate planet..."

"How about the legend." Akhael's eyes (I mean, the one that was 
left) didn't falter from Lutherus. "I came here to be powerful."

"Aaah, you're a greedy one, are you. Just like I used to be, eh?" 
Lutherus found this quite amusing. "Perhaps you'd like to become 
one of us awakers."

"What?" Akhael lost the plot. "Us?"

"Sure. I'm one of those so-called higher beings but..." Lutherus 
groaned as he climbed to his feet. The cold had stiffened his 
legs. "...now that all of my friends are gone, it's gotten quite 
lonesome in this place, and..."

What?" Akhael watched as the old crazy man started walking 
closer. "... I was kind of considering leaving this place behind 
and going somewhere else to die."

Lutherus stopped in front of Akhael. Starbuck was watching with 
intrigue as Lutherus' tail curled gracefully around the old man's 
feet. "Why don't you take my position as a high one, my son. You 
see, I've been a little lazy these past millenniums and haven't 
paid many visits to the mines to boss those common people around, 
which is..." Lutherus smiled rather sadly. "...something that 
those people actually crave for."

Lutherus noticed this other burned dude climbing up from the 
bushes and walking to the ugly, faceless one's. Lutherus put his 
hand on Akhael's shoulder.

"You could become their emperor, my son." Lutherus declared. "You 
and your little friend here. You guys could actually fulfill your 
wildest desires and become awakers. Yes. The last ones left. And 
it wouldn't be too hard to do since you're already eternal in the 
sphere of Orion."

"You're kidding, right." Akhael couldn't believe his ears.

"Not at all." Lutherus patted Akhael's shoulder. "Why don't you 
just go to the mines right now. You can become a king today. A 
Sagan for all the slaves of Orion."

"Damn!" Uri breathed. "Think about all the opportunities we could 
have..."

Akhael didn't need time to think. "Which way?"

"Over those hills and far away." Lutherus pointed towards east. 
"If you go now you will make it before late dinner."

Akhael grinned with his lipless mouth. "Captain, commander..." He 
turned and gave a little bow towards Apollo and Adama. "May the 
force will be with you..."

Akhael turned to leave but then halted and turned to look back 
once more. "...Always."

Akhael grabbed Uri by the sleeve and together those two burned 
men headed towards the set of the three suns that were still to 
descend and lived happily ever after.

Rumor has it that those two men got sealed after a millennium or 
so, but...

"I just had a communicator call from Tigh while you people were 
dreaming about what might happen to sire Akhael."

Adama pressed the red button on his wrist-com to set the 
apparatus back to battery saving status.
"He informed us that the repairing of the Galactica as well as 
other damaged ships is well on its way and should be finished in 
two centars or so."

"Sounds good." Apollo wasn't really listening. His mind was 
lingering on the crazy things Lutherus had told them today.

"If we leave now, it'll take a centar or so to get back and then 
we'll have another centar to get everything ready for continuing 
the voyage."

"Yes. Let's leave now." Starbuck was more than ready to go. 
"Anyone want my burnt sausage? There's still the 3/4 th of it 
left that wasn't completely destroyed by the camp fire..."

"Where are you heading, if you don't mind me asking." Lutherus 
was curious. "It you're going the alpha angle 5 point 3 way, you 
could drop me off at Dingeroon..."

"I'm sorry but there are very likely to be cylons patrolling that 
area." Adama's smile was polite and apologetic, yet firm.

"And even though our laser generators will be soon fixed, I can't 
as the fleet commander take unnecessary risks when it concerns my 
people..."

"Of course not." Lutherus nodded in complete understanding. "You 
better take the alpha 6 point 84 direction, it's the safest route 
under these circumstances and I can as well dig my old Harley 
Davidson shuttle out of the garage."

"By the way..." Adama just remembered something. "You told us 
that you came from Earth..."

"Yes." Lutherus waited to hear the point of this.

"Would you by any chance happen to remember the coordinates to 
that place..." Adama held his breath.

"No." Lutherus shook his head, lifted the little rucksack onto 
his shoulder, tossed some snow onto the remains of the campfire 
so the fire went out and simply walked away, stopping only once 
by a huge pine tree to wave back and then disappeared.

"Shit." Starbuck frowned.

"Don't worry." Apollo gave him a consolatory look. "We'll find 
Earth even without the help of that guy."

"It's not that..." Starbuck stared at the spot in the forest 
where the old man had vanished from view, then turned to look at 
Apollo. "We forgot to ask him what we should do with the awakened 
ones that we still have left."

"We will leave them behind, here on the planet Orion." Adama was 
cleaning his uniform trousers from snow.

"They don't want to stay." Apollo glanced at his father. "There 
are four men who are being examined by doctor Wilker right 
now..."

"Apollo." Adama looked up at his son. "Those four people are 
alive in a way they should not be. We don't know what they are 
like..."

"I know." Apollo insisted. "But..."

"If they do not with to stay on this planet..." Adama continued. 
"They will have to be killed once we have left the system 
Du'yraan. I'm sorry..."

"Commander, why can't we just drop them off on the next planet or 
something?" Starbuck's question made Adama turn. "...We don't 
even have to stop. We can just give them an old shuttle and..."

"Yes. You're right." Adama's eyes lingered for a while on 
Starbuck. "We'll give them a shuttle once we enter an area where 
it is safe for them to leave. Now, why don't we get back to the 
Galactica before my butt freezes."

Adama enfolded his cape around his body and started towards the 
way they had originally come from. "This is not the warmest place 
in the universe..."

"I'll bet you a million bucks he's wearing lacy panties under 
those trousers." Starbuck whispered as quietly as he could. "No 
wonder he's cold..."

"Starbuck! For Sagan's sake!!" Apollo hissed through clenched 
teeth, fighting not to laugh. "What am I going to do with you..."

The smirk that crept onto Starbuck's face made Apollo turn away 
quickly before he would indeed fail to look angry...

* * *

"You've lost weight." Dimstar eyed Nicael's even more anorectic 
figure enviously.

"I know." Nicael smirked. "4 kilos since yesterday..."

"You lucky bastard." Dimstar grumbled and rolled over on his bed, 
turning his back at Nicky.

For a little while the sick bay fell completely silent. Then 
Oscar put down the Daffy the Daggit comic he was reading.

"I didn't quite get it guys..." Oscar's eyes lingered from the 
slit on the back of Dimstar's pink sick-bay gown to Nicael and 
then back. "...Are we, or are we not a band any more??"

Dimstar didn't answer. He was lying on the bed with his eyes 
open, staring into the distance.

Dimstar just couldn't get over the fact that Charley had decided 
to quit 'Otherside'.

Charley had paid her so-called band mates a little visit in the 
sick bay earlier, and now Dimstar was wishing to Sagans she 
hadn't. His day was ruined. Hell, his LIFE was ruined. This was a 
goddamn betrayal! Band mates didn't betray each other like this!! 
There were certain unspoken rules about things like that!!

"What feldercarbing unspoken rules?" Charley had stared at 
Dimstar. "I don't need your goddamn permission to quit, Dim!"

Dimstar had glared back at Charley, his eyes like two daggers, 
ready to strike. "And when the hell did you decide this?"

"For Sagan's sake Dim! I told you all about my plans right after 
the gig in the Scorpio Sigma but you OBVIOUSLY weren't 
listening..."

"No you didn't." Dimstar's forefinger had popped up rather 
furiously to amplify his point. "I very clearly remember how we 
talked about trying out some salsa stuff on our next album! It 
was that very night!"

"You talked!" Charley had snarled. "It is always you who talks. 
We just try our best not to hear what you say because your ideas 
are stupid!"

"Don't ever call me stupid." Dimstar had hissed through his 
clenched teeth. 

"...And just so you know, I wouldn't want you in the band anyway. 
Your playing sucks!"

"HAH! I can play bossanova a hundred times faster than you Dim." 
Charley had smirked, knowing exactly which strings to pull to 
annoy Dimstar even more.

Dimstar had shot out of his bed like a laser beam, his hands 
reaching towards Charley's neck, clutching it like a  moonstruck 
boray.

It had required three officer guards and  Nicael to pull those 
two apart.

"Damn you Charley." Dimstar mumbled to his pillow. "One day 
you're going to regret this..."

"Guys...I want an answer..." Oscar's eyes were still lingering 
between Nicael and Dimstar's back. "Are we still a band or not?"

"Leave me alone." Dimstar murmured, wallowing in self-pity. "Let 
me die in privacy! My life is over!"

"Come on guys!" Oscar kept insisting. "Are we or are we not?"

"What?" Nicael turned to look at Oscar.

"A band anymore..."

"Shut up and leave my tortured soul to suffer alone!"

Both Oscar and Nicael ignored the whine that lingered from under 
Dimstar's blanket.

"Why do you want to know right now?" Nicael raised one brow.

"Well..." Oscar hesitated a fraction of a moment before he 
continued. "...I kind of like it here on the Galactica and... You 
know, if we don't go on with the band I was thinking..."

"What?" Nicael was looking at Oscar, now indeed curious.

"...I could apply for a job in the military." Oscar concluded, 
preparing to be attacked by either Dimstar or Nicael. "I 
mean...that is if we no longer go on with the band..."

"You're thinking of joining the military." Dimstar's head popped 
up from under the blanket and turned to stare at Oscar.

"Well...Yeah..."

"Haven't you forgotten something." Dimstar raised one brow.

"What?" Oscar's toes were twitching nervously.

"You're dead." Dimstar snorted.

"Oh, I don't think anyone'll notice." Nicael decided to be on 
Oscar's side on this. "And you don't have to put that in the 
application form Ozzie..."

"What about the hand thing Ozzie..." Dimstar sneered. "How do you 
expect them to want you in the military when you have only one 
hand. Or have you forgotten that..."

"I'm going to get an artificial one." Oscar pointed out 
emphatically. "Doctor Wilker has already promised me one."

"An artificial hand..." Dimstar's face turned thoughtful. "Hold 
on here. Why does that sound so familiar..."

"There's an old story about a farm-boy turning to a Jedi and..."

"Oh, that." Dimstar remembered the story and was rather 
uninterested in it. He paused to listen to something. "...Is it 
just me or is the ship moving again."

"The ship's moving." Nicael knew. The soft hum of the motors had 
gotten a fraction louder and there was this faint sensation of 
pressure that always came with the altering of state. Most people 
always felt that pressure in their ears.

"Does anyone have any chewing gum?" Dimstar grimaced. "A thing 
like this pressure can easily be harmful for musician like me..."

The hiss of the doors opening made Dimstar forget about his ears 
and he turned to look as doctor Wilker entered sick bay with 
colonel Tigh on his tail.

Quickly Dimstar straightened his gown, wiped the k-biscuit crumbs 
off the bed and ran his fingers through his messy hair. Damn, 
what an unfavorable moment for a colonel to drop by.
Dimstar didn't have his make-up bag!!

"...And how are we doing here gentlemen?" A typical doctor-esque 
smile lingered on Wilker's face as he kept approaching.

"Just fine." Dimstar smirked sarcastically. "This place is 
everything the brochure said it would be..."

"This is colonel Tigh." Wilker informed. "He is here to give you 
a little information about your situation..."

"Our situation?" Nicael raised his brows. "What's going on?"

"I know! They want us to do a gig here in the sick bay." Oscar 
realized. "Oh I'm sorry colonel. The situation in the band is 
rather unstable right now. You see, we just lost a member and..."

"No, we can't do any gigsI" Dimstar blunted out. "I don't have my 
make-up bag with me. And my platforms were destroyed in the fire. 
I can't possibly..."

"And my artificial hand is not ready yet." Oscar smiled 
apologetically to the colonel. "So I can't play much else than 
the bongo..."

"Gentlemen...." Tigh's tone of voice silenced the others. "I have 
just been contacted by commander Adama, who informed me about our 
situation and asked me to give you your options concerning..."

"I knew it." Nicael frowned. "The fleet is going to leave us here 
on Orion."

"You all have a choice." Tigh's eyes lingered from one man to the 
other. "Yes, you can stay behind on the Orion if you wish..."

"What about the other options?" Nicael eyed the black man.

"If you do not wish to stay on Orion, we will give you a shuttle 
when the situation is favorable and you can continue your lives 
on some new planet..."

"Or?..."

"Or you will have to die." Tigh hated to do this. He felt like a 
damn Nazi. (Believe it or not, there were actually Nazis on 
Caprica and Aeries for a short period in time a couple of 
millenniums ago.

According to the latest colonial research results, Nazism is a 
brain disease that some unfortunate human individuals are born 
with. Nazism also causes alopecia and sexual fetishism for big 
shoes and marshmallows. ('Professor GI Joe, university of Caprica 
city')

"The fleet will exit system Du'yraan in a centar." Tigh 
continued. "We are asking you to make your decisions in that 
time..."

"Shit!" Nicael stared at Tigh. "And I guess choosing to continue 
our lives with the others in the fleet is completely out of the 
question because we are... different."

"Yes. Unfortunately that is so." Tigh nodded, feeling even more 
like a crawlon now than before. "I'm sorry..."

"Oh, what the heck." Nicael grinned. "I've always wanted to start 
a new life on a distant planet. Now I have a chance to do it. I'm 
gonna go and start packing..."

"Wait. I'm coming with you." Oscar climbed off of the bed. "You 
can help me carry my things to the shuttle..."

Dimstar was staring at Tigh and Wilker. "Did I hear correctly? 
You're either gonna kill us or leave us in the middle of nowhere 
with only a shuttle and a couple of boxes of our personal 
stuff?..."

"well..."

"I want seventeen billion cubits in cash and a new pair of 
platforms."

Tigh met Dimstar's unflinching stare seemingly calm. Why for 
frack's sake did he always have to get involved with things like 
this. They could have easily waited for the commanding shuttle to 
reach the Galactica and Adama to do all this negotiation himself.

"We don't have seventeen billion cubits for Chrissakes!!" Tigh 
frowned.

"Oh." Dimstar wallowed in his thoughts for a centon. Then he 
looked up at Tigh, regaining that ice-cool negotiator's stare.

"What about the pair of platforms?"

There was a moment's silence as Tigh was trying to decide whether 
the lad was actually serious or not. "I think that might be 
arranged..."

A wide grin spread on Dimstar's face. "Great! It's a deal then!" 
Dimstar beamed. "Save me a seat in the shuttle..."

Tigh secretly let out the air he'd been holding. Then he turned 
towards the boy who had been sitting alone on his bed all this 
time, not having said a word. Cree had hardly paid any notice to 
the things going around him. He looked up and met Tigh's eyes.

"I choose to die." Cree smiled sadly. His eyes lingered to Lomas 
and Astral in the next sector, then returned to Tigh. "I have 
nothing to live for any more..."

* * *

Boomer's hair was still a little wet as he paced down the 
corridor towards the officers' club for a little dinner. After 
having returned from the Scorpion, taken a shower and eaten 
breakfast, Boomer had snoozed off and slept like a daggit until 
late afternoon when he had finally woken up and realized there 
was no way in hell he would be able to leave the quarters until 
having taken another shower. He would have gotten arrested by the 
hair police.

Boomer's locks had been sticking up to every direction 
imaginable, forming a hairstyle compared to which even a boray 
would've looked like Athena.

Athena... Boomer missed that sweet girl.

Now making his way towards the officers' club, Boomer's mind kept 
lingering on Athena and the way that her life had destructed.

Boomer had not paid one visit to Athena on the prison barge. 
Boomer knew he couldn't have faced that woman and see the pain 
and disappointment reflecting from her eyes. Or worse, not see 
any disappointment and anger but only emptiness. The same 
emptiness that Boomer felt inside.

Yes. He still felt it.

The emptiness had been there when Boomer had quit the military to 
do stripping. It had been there when Boomer had quit the 
stripping to do military. It would always be there. This time 
Boomer would grow to accept it.

Boomer glanced at the timepiece on his wrist. Apollo's and 
Starbuck's shuttle was due to land in a couple of centons. From 
experience Boomer knew that the first thing Starbuck would want 
to do was to pay a visit to the officers' club for a large cup of 
grog and a nice fumarello... probably two. Boomer wanted to be 
there when Starbuck arrived.

No. He wasn't planning to share the painful secrets of his heart 
with Starbuck or thinking of having any serious talks with the 
man about the emptiness. Boomer wasn't going to push Apollo 
aside, fall on his knees and ask Starbuck to get sealed to him. 
Hell no. Boomer knew exactly where he stood. There wasn't 
anything catastrophic being planned. Boomer merely wanted to be 
there in officers' club just because Starbuck would be there too. 
That made Boomer a little happier.

Someone was approaching Boomer in the hallway. Boomer could hear 
the footsteps but wasn't bothered to look up and see who it was. 
Not until that person grabbed a hold of him by the arm.

"Boomer..." Giles' amused grin lingered into Boomer's view. "So 
lost in your thoughts that you forgot to watch where you were 
going..."

"Hi there buddy." Boomer smiled, then noticed Jolly behind Giles. 
"Jolly. Aren't you supposed to be on duty at this centar..."

"I changed duty shifts with Barton. He owes me a couple." Jolly 
grinned. "Me and Giles, we were just on our way to catch a 
shuttle to the Star. You wanna join us?"

"Actually, I was just on my way to the offic..." Boomer suddenly 
paused. Jolly and Giles were holding hands. Boomer's disbelieving 
eyes looked up. "Jesus guys, I had no idea..."

"Oh, it all happened so quickly." Giles glanced at Jolly and 
Boomer noticed how they shared a short, secretive smile.

"What... What about Kadeem?" Boomer tried to act casual and 
succeeded in doing so exactly as subtly as a boray succeeds in 
keeping a smile on his face while someone is hitting him in the 
head with a sledgehammer.

"We sort of drifted apart..." Giles sighed melancholically. Then 
the elegiac look disappeared.
"But don't feel sorry about it because..." Giles turned to look 
Jolly. "...if we hadn't, I wouldn't have realized what a catch 
Jolly is..."

Jolly grinned and winked at Giles. Boomer could only stare.

"Kadeem was really into wearing women's clothes." Giles 
reminisced. "And he got me into that too for a while..."

"Uh huh." Boomer was still staring at the two men.

"...But, then I realized that it wasn't really my thing." Giles 
smiled. "And I told Kadeem that I didn't like seeing him in all 
those frills. I wanted him to return to being what he used to. A 
man in men's clothing..."

"Really?..."

"But by then Kadeem was already too far gone." Giles eyes were 
distant as he was looking into his memories. "He wasn't able to 
stop any more. And he wanted more... Kadeem wanted to become a 
woman."

"Well, how about that!"

"...So he went to see doctor Wilker to find out if a sex change 
was conceivable under these restricted circumstances... Living in 
space in rusty, overpopulated ships, food being a problem and 
all..."

"What's food got to do with it?" Boomer murmured, completely 
stunned about what he was hearing.

"...And when Wilker assured Kadeem that an operation of that kind 
was very much possible, Kadeem didn't hesitate. He had the 
operation on the same night and came home a completely changed 
person..."

Giles sighed. Jolly put his hand on the man's shoulder and 
squeezed encouragingly.

"I, of course, started having problems with Kadeem's new form." 
Giles continued. "Kadeem was now all woman but I was still a 
normal homosexual man with normal homosexual needs, so of course 
that was to become a huge problem..."

"Of course..." Boomer couldn't stop staring at Giles.

"...And so we had a long, long talk and finally came to the 
decision to end our relationship..." Giles sighed. Then a little 
smile lingered to his face. "...Which turned out to be the right 
decision for all of us since Jolly was just beginning to realize 
his homosexuality and once Jolly and I laid eyes on each other on 
that very night I had broken up with Kadeem. You see, I went to 
the officers' club to get loaded..." Giles was smiling radiantly 
now. "...And we just knew."

"Yes." Jolly added. "I couldn't help noticing the sexy corporal's 
uniform he was wearing, and..."

"He's wearing it all the time Jolly." Boomer just had to point 
out.

"...Yes, but this was the first time I noticed it was sexy." 
Jolly grinned. 

"...And Giles told me afterwards that that had been the first 
time he had realized that I was actually a man!"

"How flattering..."

"...And what a man he turned out to be!" Giles leaned forward to 
give Jolly a kiss on the cheek, then looked back at Boomer with a 
grin.

"...And that's it. That's the story" Giles concluded. "We 
couldn't be happier. Jolly is a plate of mushies and a bottle of 
the finest ambrosa. Finally a man who looks like a man."

"...And wears men's clothes." Jolly grinned.

"Yep." Giles smiled. "An occasional bra or a pair of pantyhose 
every now and then doesn't really matter."

"...Or a lacy black teddy on Sundays. That all doesn't really 
count." Jolly put his hand around Giles shoulders.

"Exactly." Giles gave Jolly a grin. "Those are only a little 
treat after a hard secton's duty, or an exhausting laser fight 
with the cylons."

"Yeah, and the high-heeled shoes with the red dress we stole from 
Cassiopeia when she was in a coma." Jolly pointed out. "That's 
not really wearing women's clothes. We only wear them because 
they look pretty."

"Yeah, it's not really wearing women's clothes..."

"Guys, I'm sorry, I have to... I promised to meet Starbuck and 
Apollo...." Boomer couldn't take it any more. He just had to get 
away from those two.

"Oh sure." Giles put his hand on Boomer's shoulder. "Say hi to 
those two. Tell them to take it easy once in awhile."

"I will..." Boomer was already going.

* * *

"This is captain Apollo requesting permission and co-ordinates to 
land on the Galactica."

"All clear captain." Rigel's voice carried from the loudspeaker. 
"Permission for immediate landing granted. Your position is..."

The co-ordinates followed.

Starbuck, who was sitting on the co-pilot's seat next to Apollo 
turned to look at the dark-haired man and grinned. "Home sweet 
home."

Apollo's eyes were on the huge battlestar ahead. He smiled 
absently. "Thank heavens this Orion feldercarb is finally over." 

Starbuck was more than relieved. "This has been the most annoying 
adventure we've ever been involved in."

"I agree." Apollo was only partly listening to Rigel's co-
ordinates or Starbuck's chatting. "Only 35 centons left and we 
can kiss the damn Du'yraan system goodbye!"

There was a sound of flushing and Adama appeared from the 
turboflush.

"Take a seat and buckle up, father." Apollo nodded towards an 
empty chair in the passenger section. "I've already proceeded 
with the landing. We'll be down in four centons."

"Officers' club, here we come." Starbuck smirked.

"Gentlemen, I'll need you on the bridge first." Adama's voice 
lingered from the passenger area. "You need to do a report on..."

"Oh, can't that wait!" Starbuck frowned. "I haven't had a drink 
for centars. Not to mention a fumarello..."

Adama smiled as he gave in. "All right Starbuck. Just this once. 
But I'm expecting to see you both on the bridge in 30-40 
centons..."

"We'll be there." Starbuck smirked. "...And we'll bring you a 
doughnut, we promise..."

They all laughed, mostly because of being relieved that the 
adventure was over rather than from sheer amusement. Apollo was 
pretending to be laughing along with the others but his eyes had 
once again lingered to Aeon's reflection in the cockpit window. 
Aeon, who was sitting in the passenger area, chatting this and 
that with Adama, pretended not to notice.

* * *

The maker took a sip from his glass and eyed around the officers' 
club. So many familiar faces were there, spending their free time 
or duty breaks playing snooker, chattering, enjoying their 
drinks...

The officers' club was no doubt the Galactica's most popular 
place. The maker's gaze lingered on those familiar faces as he 
was considering about walking to one of them familiar people 
and...

Well well. Isn't that Boomer who just walked in. The maker raised 
his hand and signaled the lieutenant to come over to his table.

Boomer waved and grinned to the maker, walked to the bar to buy a 
cup of something and then made his way to the table where the 
maker was sitting. 

"Quite a day." The maker smiled, stirring the warm liquid in his 
cup with a spoon.

"Quite a yahren." Boomer took a chair and sat down.

The maker scrutinized Boomer as the man reached out for a cup of 
sugar, put a spoonful or two into his cup, swirled, lifted the 
cup to his lips, tasted... The maker could feel it. The urge...

"So. You're meeting someone here?" The maker asked lightly, his 
fingers tapping the table, his eyes lingering around the 
officers' club ever-so-casually.

"Yeah. Starbuck and Apollo." Boomer replied, taking another sip 
from his cup. "They should be returning from patrol in a few 
centons."

"Yes..." The maker prolonged his word, smiling at Boomer for a 
long time.

Boomer kept thinking that the smile on the man's face was strange 
but he didn't say anything. Just concentrated on enjoying the 
warmth of his drink. For a moment those two men sat in silence.

"I tell you what." The maker finished the parbon pie he had been 
eating and put the spoon back on the plate. "There's a bookshelf 
that I need to have moved from the bedroom to the living room and 
I haven't really had a chance to ask anyone for help yet due to 
all this rush..."

"No problem." Boomer looked up and gave an easy grin. "I'm your 
man. All steel and muscles..."

The maker laughed.

"...But does it have to be now?" Boomer didn't want to leave the 
club. Starbuck's shuttle might be landing sooner than scheduled 
or...

"Not necessarily but..." The maker couldn't come up with anything 
plausible. Damn it! The bookshelf idea was idiotic. In fact, the 
whole timing was idiotic. The fleet was still in the sphere of 
Orion and that would... Hmmm, but if the maker could lure Boomer 
into his quarters now, her could lock the guy up and wait for 
another half a centar to pass before proceeding with the... 
urge...

"No, I guess it doesn't have to be now." The maker smiled 
pretentiously. "I just thought that it would be nice to get it 
over with before my next duty shift is to start, that's all..."

"Oh well." Boomer sighed with capitulation. "Why not. I can 
always catch up with Starbuck and Apollo later. It's not that 
important..."

"Great!" This time the smile on the maker's face was indeed 
genuine. "Do you want to finish you drink or..."

The maker's feverish eyes were on Boomer. Oh lords, the way the 
man's skin was reflecting the light in the club. How delicate it 
looked, how suffocatingly much the maker wanted to adore it 
physically, to cut it all open, peel the skin off like precious 
silk that veiled a worthless body and...

Stop it you fool before you ruin everything!

The maker stood up and extended his hand to Boomer to urge the 
man to follow. The blood gushing in his veins made it hard... No, 
it made it impossible to wait any longer. Oh, how the maker 
desired to sink his trembling hands into the contents of Boomer's 
stomach, into that warm box of treasures which little by little 
revealed itself to the eyes of the one cutting the slit...The 
maker could already feel himself pulling slowly off the skin, the 
veil that had been covering it... Stop! Stop you fool!...

"Shall we go?" The maker's eyes were on Boomer.

Boomer took one more sip from the cup and then let the man take a 
hold of him by the hand and helping him up.

While following the man to the exit, Boomer let his eyes sweep 
over the club once more to make sure that Starbuck hadn't by any 
chance sneaked in without Boomer noticing. No sign of Starbuck. 
Boomer was ready to leave.

The man that was walking ahead of Boomer turned to say something 
but Boomer wasn't really listening. For a fleeting moment Boomer 
had a funny feeling that those always so rational eyes revealed a 
glimpse of...

Cut the feldercarb, Boomer snorted to himself. What were you 
going to say buddy... a glimpse of recklessness? Irrationality? 
...Insanity? That thought made Boomer almost laugh out loud.

They reached the exit of the club.

The maker felt his hands sweating. He wiped them quickly on his 
trousers, then turned once again to give Boomer a casual smile. 
The smile froze half-way.

Apollo was walking towards them, Starbuck on his tail, trying to 
keep up with the man while trying light a fumarello with an 
apparently faulty lighter.

Something struck violently through the maker's body. He couldn't 
tell if it was the piercing sense of disappointment for losing 
the moment to play with Boomer, or a shriek of devastating thrill 
of seeing Apollo there, so close...

The maker expressed his polite, casual hellos to both men, trying 
desperately not to stare at Apollo for his eyes would undoubtedly 
reveal the firestorm inside.

Boomer, for his part, tried desperately not to stare at Starbuck.

"Hi guys." Boomer smiled. "We were just on our way to..."

"I guess we can do it another time." The maker turned to give 
Boomer a smile. "I know you had planned to spend some time with 
your friends so I won't keep you."

"But..." Boomer's surprised eyes turned to the man. "...Now that 
Starbuck and Apollo are here, we can all..."

"I really appreciate it..." The maker winked. "...But there's no 
rush. I'm sure carrying a bookshelf around my quarters is not 
quite what Apollo and Starbuck have in mind after a very tiresome 
adventure..."

Boomer grinned. "Yeah, I guess not." He glanced at Apollo. 
"Where's Aeon? Didn't he come back with you?"

Apollo's heart jumped a little from hearing Aeon's name.

"Yes, he came back to the Galactica with us." Apollo smiled.

Words could not describe how relieved he had been when Aeon had 
told them all that he had chosen to stay with the fleet. No, no! 
There was nothing forbidden in the way Apollo felt. He considered 
Aeon to be a friend and it was only natural to care for the 
people around yourself, wasn't it?

And of course, being the dutiful captain and the commander's son 
that Apollo was, it was his duty to make sure all people were 
safe in these difficult circumstances and... Frack. Who was he 
kidding. Okay, there was a little infatuation involved, but 
simply because of that old picture of the chosen one having been 
Apollo's first crush and all but... Hell, this was all very 
explainable. All very innocent. Starbuck was the man Apollo 
loved. Period.

"Well, where is he then?" Boomer looked around.

"Barton is taking Aeon to his new quarters." Apollo replied, not 
realizing that his face had become slightly blushed.

"Aeon is planning to go through the SCV-training to become a 
Galactica shuttle pilot."

"What do you say guys..." Starbuck had finally gotten the lighter 
to work and was now puffing his fumarello, a luxuriating smile on 
his face. "...if we continued this conversation in the officers' 
club. I wouldn't mind having something hot and liquid served in a 
cup..."

"I thought you'd never ask." Boomer grinned.

"You're more than welcome to join us..." Starbuck's eyes lingered 
to the man standing next to Boomer.

"I'll see you officers around." The maker refused politely. "I 
just put quite a duty shift behind me and I guess I really should 
get some rest."

"Great idea." Apollo smiled. "We need you to take good care of 
yourself. You're indispensable in the fleet you know..."

"Yes." Starbuck grinned. "Where would we be without you!"

"Probably in the exact same situation as you are in right now." 
The maker laughed, flattered. Apollo had always liked that low, 
pleasant laughter. How unfortunate that it was so seldom heard.

"Take care of yourself." Starbuck winked.

"You too." The maker smiled back as the three men turned to 
leave.

For centons, the maker just stood there in silence, watching 
those men walked down the corridor and disappeared back inside 
the officers' club.

He kept squeezing his hands into fists so hard that his 
fingernails dug onto his palms, making them bleed...

The maker didn't even notice.

* * *

Chapter Four

Caiari Moonfall. Day 8.

It was over. All over.

What a beautiful morning. This was the happiest end ever. 

Starbuck was singing in the turbowash while Apollo was making 
breakfast. Hard-boiled tulipian buds, Starbuck's favorite, and 
plenty of black coffee. There was a nice, red cloth on the table 
and a vaseful of real flowers, stolen from the Agroship. Apollo 
was wearing his green morning gown and had his hair in a little 
ponytail.

Apollo lifted his eyes and smiled warmly as Starbuck entered the 
kitchen, wearing one towel around his waist and drying his hair 
with another.

The little zit that had been on Starbuck's chin for the past 
couple of days had vanished. Everything was so perfect.

"This smells good." Starbuck sniffed the aroma of warm buds that 
was lingering in the kitchen. "How did you know I love those 
things..."

"A wild guess." Apollo grinned. "In addition to the fact that 
you've told me so a couple of thousand times."

They both laughed.

"This is such a great day." Starbuck beamed as he put aside the 
smaller towel, took a chair and sat down to pour himself a cup of 
coffee. "One couldn't possibly hope for a better ending to an 
annoying adventure."

Apollo smiled.

"I can't believe it's finally happening." Starbuck babbled. "I 
mean, really, truly happening..."

"Believe it. It is." Apollo couldn't think of anything more cute 
than this wet-haired Starbuck in front of him, eating breakfast 
with a bunch of tulipian bud crumbs stuck on the corner of his 
mouth. "We are really getting sealed in just two days."

Starbuck wiped the crumbs off with the back of his hand and 
grinned.

"Frack! We have so many things to do before that! We have to 
organize the catering, make up our minds about who to invite and 
send the invitations, convince Boomer that it's not going to ruin 
his reputation to jump out of the cake, decide which one of us is 
going to wear the dress, buy the damn dress..."

"Well, Isn't that just what we're going to do in a couple of 
centons." 

Apollo smiled. "Finish our breakfast, get dressed and head out to 
the textile ship for a fitting..."

"After that we can..."

"I'm scheduled to meet cadet Aeon in a three centars..." Apollo 
crammed the rest of the bud into his mouth. "...As his navigation 
instructor."

"A  cadet in two days..." Starbuck raised one brow. "I must say, 
that's pretty amazing."

"Yes it is." Apollo nodded, trying not to think about anything. 
Those damn feelings he had for Aeon had been getting worse and 
worse during these two days. And now, having to cram in a small 
shuttle with that man, sit so close to him, almost having to 
touch him every time there was a need to operate the gearbox...

Thank Sagans Apollo was getting sealed to Starbuck in only two 
days. A relieved smile crept onto Apollo's face as he thought 
about it. And, at the latest, during the two-secton honeymoon on 
the Rising Star, those strange feelings for Aeon would become 
only a distant memory.

Starbuck poured the last drops of coffee into his throat and put 
the cup back down on the table. He gave Apollo a smile.

"Thanks for breakfast darling." Starbuck pushed back his chair 
and stood up. "I'm off to get dressed so we can leave for the 
textile ship before the midday-cycle rush begins..."

Starbuck walked to Apollo to give him a kiss.

"May I suggest you do the same unless you want to walk around the 
ships in your morning gown." Starbuck grinned. "Not that there 
would be anything wrong with that. You would look beautiful even 
in Cylon suit..."

"You've seen me in my Cylon suit Bucky." Apollo smirked. "And if 
I recall correctly, you were quite impressed by it."

Starbuck laughed as he remembered the leather outfit they had 
worn on their little trip to Gamoray.

"Impressed..." Starbuck raised one eyebrow teasingly. "That must 
be the understatement of the century!"

"Go and get dressed Starbuck." Apollo grinned. "Or we'll never be 
able to leave these quarters..."

* * *

"What a piece of junk!" Dimstar stared at the rusting, small 
shuttle, disgusted. "Don't you have anything better to give us?! 
That thing won't carry us even out of the launching tube!"

"This is the one we are going to give you." Adama was standing 
about three metrons away from the shuttle, the Dimstar posse and 
Tigh, surrounded by the members of the council of the twelve.

The fleet had reached the first suitable planet for the awaken 
ones to be left on since the departure from system Du'yraan. Even 
the Daa'r galaxy had been left behind approximately five centars 
ago. This was a completely new world. A completely new beginning.

Dimstar had gotten those platform shoes he had so yearned for. 
Nicael had written a letter of goodbye to his mother whom he had 
not seen after the escapade from the destructed colonies, but who 
had been rumored to be alive and well and living on the 
Sagittarian. Oscar had come to a big decision to cut his curly 
locks and change his image into a more masculine direction.

Now, standing there beside the others, waiting for the boarding 
into the shuttle to the unknown to begin, Oscar was hardly 
recognized by his former band mates.

Dimstar couldn't stop casting intensely disapproving glances at 
Oscar's dark green fatigue trousers, cropped hair and completely 
makeupless face whom Dim had never actually seen. Even the 
earrings were gone. Jesus!

"Where are all the people?" Dimstar eyed around the launching 
bay. "We're leaving in a couple of centons and nobody's here 
yet!"

"Who are you expecting?" Tigh had to admit these blokes continued 
to surprise the frack out of him time after time.

"Well, our fans of course." Dimstar snorted a little touchily. 
How could someone who had made it to being a colonel for Sagan's 
sake couldn't understand such a certainty. "Where are all the IFB 
reporters and cameramen..."

"Umm... You need to board your shuttle now." Tigh didn't know 
what else to say. "We need to get you cleared and launched in 
twelve centons or your departure will have direct influences on 
the normal traffic and delay schedules..."

"But..." Dimstar couldn't understand why the fans weren't there. 
"All those people..."

"We'll say goodbye to them for you." Tigh forced himself to 
smile. "You really need to go..."

Dimstar frowned. "Oh, what an artist you people lose in me!" He 
sighed dramatically.

Tigh was almost expecting to see the lad raising the back of his 
hand onto his forehead like a femme fatale.

Dimstar's affronted gaze swept once more over the almost empty 
bay area, lingered a little on the participants of the council 
and Adama, moved to colonel Tigh and his frozen smile, passed 
Nicael who was biting his nails and stopped to Oscar and his 
horrendous appearance.

"You should put even a little glitter and eye-liner on your face 
if nothing else." Dimstar
murmured. "You look like a walrus! No damn wonder we don't have 
any fans here seeing us off..."

"Yes we do!" Oscar couldn't understand why Dim so miffed.

"We do?" Dimstar stared at Oz. "Where the hell are they then?"

"Right there!" Oscar pointed at the participants of the council. 
"I saw one of them buy our album at the album release party..."

Sire Gondo turned bright red and felt all eyes turning towards 
him.

"Thanks pal!" Nicael grinned and waved his hand at the old man. 
Dimstar settled for a polite, calmly appreciating nod.

"You want an autograph?" Oscar's eyes were on the old council 
member too. "I think I have a pen somewhere...

Tigh turned to look at Adama for some support.

"Gentlemen." Adama lifted his hand and pointed at the timepiece 
on his wrist. "Please...The shuttle..."

"Oh yeah. Right." Nicael got the hint. "Off we go then!..."

"Can I sit on the window seat please guys?" Oscar picked up his 
rucksack, his eyes lingering from Nicael to Dimstar.

"There are a dozen seats on that ship." Nicael grinned. "I 
believe we can find you one by the window."

"Who's going to fly the shuttle?" Dimstar suddenly realized none 
of them had any navigation training.

"That's no problem." Oscar smiled. "I was once a member of the 
'play and understand'-group when I was twelve. I think I can fly 
that thing."

"You THINK you can fly!" Dimstar turned to give Oz a glare.

"Oh, I'm quite sure I can." Oscar assured. "Just give me a 
control stick and a pair of eyeglasses..."

"WHAT?" Dimstar yelled. "You never told me you wear glasses!!"

"Well, what do you expect." Oscar frowned. "They didn't quite go 
with my animal style!"

"You damn liar." Nicael murmured. "You never told me had any 
animal style..."

"Well of course I did!" Oscar snapped. "I was the drummer wasn't 
I..."

"Alright alright." Dimstar gestured for the boys to calm down. 
"Let's just concentrate on flying the shuttle, okay. Oz, where 
are you glasses now. Put them on and let's go!"

"I've lost them." Oscar sighed.

"WHAT!"

"I haven't seen them around for half a yahren or so." Oscar 
shrugged.

"Hold on a centon... Didn't you just say you needed your glasses 
to be able to fly this shuttle?"

"That's right." Oscar nodded. "I wouldn't find the turbo button 
without them."

"AAARRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!........."

"Shut up Dim! Um, Oz. You don't happen to have an extra pair, do 
you..."

"No."

"For the sake of all that is Kobolian!"

"Here! You can borrow mine." Sire Ulis stepped out from the group 
of the council members and handed over his glasses. They are -13 
but I guess that doesn't matter does it..."

"I guess not." Nicael sighed. "The stronger the better. Isn't 
that usually the way it is?"

"Not when it comes to the smell of garlic it ain't..." Sire Ulis 
grimaced. "I remember once..."

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" Dimstar took a dive towards 
sire Ulis with his teeth clenched and his hands outstretched.

Nicael reached out and caught a hold of the back of Dimstar's 
tunic collar, making the man almost choke.

"Can you please just leave!" Tigh couldn't take this any more.

"Yes! Yes! We're going!" Nicael was dragging the coughing and 
cursing Dimstar towards the shuttle while Oscar had picked up all 
of their rucksacks, tossed them on his shoulder and was now 
struggling to maintain on his feet under all that weight.

"Are you with the band? A little voice lingered from somewhere 
between Tigh legs making Tigh look down and find a little 12-
yahren-old girl who was holding a pen and a piece of paper, 
staring up at Tigh with an adoring look on her face.

"Can I have your autograph?

"Finally!" Dimstar struggled off Nicael's grip and straightened 
his collar. "This way lady!" Dimstar grinned charmingly. "Where 
do you want it?"

"Want what?" The little girl turned to look at Dimstar. This time 
the voice wasn't little at all.

"The autograph." Dimstar sparkled. "Where do you want it?"

"Why would I want your autograph." The girl wondered.

Dimstar smiled. "Because I'm with the band."

"No you're not." The girl snorted. Then turned his adoring eyes 
back up at Tigh. "Please sir. Can I have your autograph..."

It took another 20 centons before Dimstar, Nicael and Oscar were 
finally locked up in the shuttle and sent off to space to 
experience adventures of their own.

Most of the council members had remained there, first waving 
goodbye, watching the boys leave, then chattering and comparing 
experiences with old-time Caprican musicians.

Tigh had stormed out of the launching bay as soon as the tail-
lights of the shuttle had reached the end of the launching tube.

With an amused grin on his face, Adama had followed him. 

There was still one thing left to do.

Cree had chosen to die.

It was Tigh's job to see to it that he would.

* * *

"Look at all this stuff!" Starbuck kept lifting up things, 
touching everything. "Look at this! How did they ever manage to 
get the material for this. This is old Aerian buffy-cotton for 
Sagan's sake. This stuff hasn't been around for ages...

"Obviously it has." Apollo wasn't looking. "They made a dress of 
it."

"Oh my god, look at those hats!" Starbuck raised one eyebrow. 
"Hey, why are they selling viper helmets on this ship? Those 
babies have been Galactica trademark protected since the 
destruction. I'll be damned if we bump into G-suits..."

"Take a look to the left." Apollo grinned.

"I can't believe this!" Starbuck frowned as he saw the damn 
things. "What are we doing in this sector Appy? I'm not planning 
to wear a Sagan forsaken G-suit to my sealing ceremony..."

"They sell that stuff everywhere on this ship." Apollo explained. 
"It's very popular amongst the civilians..."

"The civilians are forbidden to wear that kind of stuff. It's 
military registered..."

"They are not allowed to wear that stuff in public." Apollo 
corrected. "But it seems that they like playing role games in the 
secrecy of their own quarters..."

"But isn't that still violation of the trademark rights..."

"Those things are not exactly like the official ones." Apollo 
pointed at one of the G-suits. "If you look carefully, you'll 
notice that the color isn't exactly CDC-beige but more like 
daggit brown..."

"Oh yeah." Starbuck noticed.

"And the insignias are complete feldercarb. Look! The third 
pyramid from the bottom..."

"You're right..."

"...But let's forget about the military stuff for now, okay?" 
Apollo smiled. "We still haven't decided which one of us will 
wear the dress."

"Let's wait until the fittings and see on which one it'll look 
better." Starbuck grinned. "Although I'm quite sure wearing a 
dress would be very flattering to my body shape..."

"What kind of shoes are you going to wear Starbuck if it's you 
who's gonna put on that dress? You can't really wear those 
military boots..."

"I was thinking of getting sealed barefoot." Starbuck was 
fingering something that looked like a skirt. "You know, like 
people used to do in the 4th millennium... Barefoot, flowers in 
the hair, all that stuff..."

"If you're gonna stick some hay in your hair Starbuck, you'll be 
standing at the alter alone with the priest..."

"I thought Adama was going to perform the sealing..."

"He is." Apollo noticed the salesperson. "Hey! Can we have some 
assistance please!"

"Oh, sure." The salesperson turned with a smile. "You want to see 
some of our new laser gun gloves? Real leather, two folded 
fingertips, a possibility to have your name carved on the..."

"Actually..." Apollo cut in politely. "We are here to see sealing 
dresses. We had an appointment for a fitting at 12.00..."

"Yes, of course. Captain Apollo." The salesperson beamed. "This 
way gentlemen. I have the pre-requested dress models in the L-
sector..."

"We'd also like to look at some toe rings..." Starbuck caught up 
with the salesperson.

"Look at WHAT?" Apollo's disbelieving eyes lingered to Starbuck.

"Toe rings." Starbuck grinned. "If I'm getting sealed barefoot, 
I'd like something nice on my toes..."

"You're kidding."

"Oh, and then I'd like to have my ears, my nose and my nipples 
pierced. I saw a pair of safety pins back in the punk sector..."

Apollo caught up with Starbuck and took a hold of both of 
shoulders, making him stop. "You've gotta be kidding, right?"

Starbuck's grin spread from one ear to the other. "You don't like 
the thought of seeing me covered in safety pins?"

"Are you coming gentlemen?" The salesperson turned.

"Yeah, we are." Starbuck was grinning, his eyes still on Apollo. 
"Calm down Appy. I'm only teasing you..."

"Good." Apollo let out a sigh.

"...Except for the nipples part." Starbuck smirked, causing 
Apollo to grab a glove from the nearest shelf and toss it at 
Starbuck.

Then, hand in hand those two insanely grinning men started 
towards the salesperson who was tapping the floor with her foot.

"Were you gentlemen thinking of having a white or a pink sealing 
veil with the dress. We have a collection of very pretty pink 
ones with little butterflies sown onto them..."

* * *

Cree was still in the sick bay.

God it felt quiet now that Dimstar and the others had left.

Astral had been given permission to leave too since his condition 
was rapidly improving. And Lomas... Well, there wasn't much 
reason for Lomas to hang around the sick bay now, was there.
Cree sighed.

He knew very well they were coming soon, Tigh and whoever would 
be in charge of the situation with the awaken ones. For a little 
while Cree kept wondering  how were they planning to do the 
killing. With a laser gun perhaps. Or poison...

Cree wasn't afraid of dying. There was nothing left for him now 
that Lomas would be forever lost to Cree. It would've taken a 
person blind as a bat not to have noticed the bond between Lomas 
and Astral. Cree knew very well Lomas would never care for him as 
much as he now cared for that...'angel'.

Cree pulled the blanket a little upwards. It had gotten colder in 
the sick bay, or perhaps it was just Cree's imagination. Maybe it 
was just colder in his heart.

Cree pondered for a micron what they all would say when hearing 
Cree's wish. They definitely would be surprised by it. Probably 
they would try to talk him out of it, explain things...

No. Not likely. Why would they? Probably they would all stare at 
Cree, feeling sorry for him, trying to act understandingly. Lomas 
would probably...

No. Cree didn't want to think about how Lomas would react 
although he already knew.
Lomas would be angry with Cree, strongly refusing to do what Cree 
had asked, say hurting things... Cree smiled sadly.

Yes. Lomas was very good at wounding Cree. With his words, with 
his acts. Yet still Cree loved him so. More than all the stars 
and the suns and the moons in the universe. More than cute, 
cuddly daggits that curl up beside you when you turn the lights 
off the room and go to sleep, more. More than gentle kisses that 
make you close your eyes and believe in all tomorrow's tomorrows. 
So much more than walking in the twilight, snow softly falling 
all around and remaining on your eyelashes. (These are a few of 
my favorite things, la laa de da...)

Cree loved Lomas. That is why he...

A sound of door opening made Cree look up.

"Commander." Cree smiled. "Colonel. I've been waiting for you."

Tigh didn't know what to say. This would be a hell of a lot 
harder that getting rid of Dimstar and the other morons. Tigh 
could barely keep the formal look on his face. He remained 
standing close to the doors while Adama walked to Cree.

"It's time." The forlorn expression on Adama's face was genuine, 
Cree knew. He just had to look at that sad smile and there it 
was. The apology.

"I'm ready commander." Cree climbed off the bed and put on his 
boots, took his jacket from the bedpost and turned to meet the 
commander's eyes. "I have a request." Cree said quietly.

* * *

"This is too small." Starbuck stepped out of the fitting room 
looking rather like the sealing cake than the blushing groom.

Apollo was standing in front of a huge mirror wearing one of the 
newest models, a powder-blue dress with blue pearls sown here and 
there and a huge bow tie attached to the back.

"This is horrible." Apollo kept grimacing. "Don't you have 
anything less... modern."

"Oh, that's not modern sir. That's just part of newest collection 
we received from the recycling ship..."

Starbuck walked to Apollo and halted beside him, staring at the 
reflections of both of them in the mirror. "Why do I feel 
uncomfortable in this..."

"Do you want to see some of the darker shades or... In fact, I 
think we have just what you gentlemen had in mind..."

The salesperson rushed to the back room and came back carrying a 
yellow thing that looked like jello, wobbling with every step.

"Here." The salesperson halted in front of Starbuck and Apollo, 
who were now completely captured by the wobbly thing in her arms. 
"How does this look to you. It's one of the latest designs from 
the 'Monsieur' collection..."

Starbuck stared at the yellow masterpiece, then looked up at the 
salesperson. "Do you really think that is something we had in 
mind. Do we really look like..."

Apollo took a hold of Starbuck by the hand, making him pause and 
turn his attention to Apollo.
They shared a glance in complete unison, then Apollo's eyes 
lingered to the salesperson.

"Ummm...We would like to look at some tuxedos please."

* * *

"The jeweler is this way!" A grinning Lomas was pulling Astral by 
the hand and it was damn obvious that he would not take no for an 
answer. Lomas was determined to buy Astral a proper, beautiful, 
unique, expensive-as-frack engagement ring, no matter how much 
Astral tried to 
convince Lomas that a simple thing with no carvings, no trimmings 
and no unnecessary expenditure would be more than enough!

They had spent a centar and a half on the metal refinery ship 
already, Lomas having insisted on buying Astral beautiful, 
ridiculously costly things and Astral refusing to accept any of 
them.

Until two days ago, Lomas had not understood what happiness could 
be. Now looking back it all seemed like he had been living only 
for this. All his life waiting, hoping, preparing himself for 
something that he had not then understood, but boy did he now. It 
was all so clear now that everything had been for Astral. Even 
the smallest thing.

"Thank you." Lomas turned his head to give Astral a smile that 
would melt the ice.

"For what?" Astral laughed. "You're the one that keeps giving me 
these insane things..."

Lomas didn't answer. His smile, his eyes just lingered on 
Astral's beautiful face for a while until he had to turn back to 
look where he was going.

The jeweler's sign was twinkling ahead, Lomas could spot it a few 
metrons away. He hastened his steps, pulling Astral by the hand.

Astral noticed the sign too. He stopped. "Not that one, Lomas. 
Please."

"Why?" Lomas turned, surprised.

"That guy..." Astral pointed at the figure of a man behind the 
counter. Lomas narrowed his eyes but couldn't see more a dark 
blur through the shop window. "He's my goddamn junior 
instructional period theological self-expression teacher." 
Astral's eyes lingered to Lomas. "He murdered my mother."

"Jesus!" Lomas gasped.

"He chased my father for three yahrens..."

"I'm so sorry..."

"And he gave me a goddamn D for Sagan's sake." Astral grimaced. 
"I never want to see that daggit again! Come on, let's go back to 
the north-west sector."

Astral took Lomas' hand and started leading him away from the 
teacher from hell, towards the lobby where the elevators were 
located.

"Perhaps we should pay a little visit to the textile ship." Lomas 
pondered aloud as they walked hand in hand. He turned to look at 
Astral. "Do you want to get sealed in a dress or..."

Astral smiled warmly. "I think we should both wear the kind of 
things we would normally wear. I don't quite see myself in a 
dress." Astral's eyes lingered on Lomas. "...You neither."

They both grinned at the thought. Lomas' heart had curled up to a 
warm bundle. He squeezed Astral's hand.

"I can't even begin to tell you how happy you made me when you 
said that you'd get sealed to me."

"You made me happy by asking me to." Astral returned the squeeze.

"Shall we go back to the quarters?" Lomas smile widened a little. 
"There's a shuttle scheduled in ten centons..."

Since the fire on the Scorpion, Lomas had moved in with Astral 
and was therefore once again a resident of the much-loathed 
Piscean. Not that Lomas cared about that now. That little room 
was now the most beautiful, the happiest place in the universe.

The Scorpion was currently undergoing restorations and would not 
be opened for public use until at least two sectars.

"...And we could stop on the Rising Star and have some Aquarian 
take-away..."

"Sounds great." Astral smiled.

"Corporal Lomas?" A man in a lieutenant's uniform and wearing an 
insignia of the Galactica took a hold of Lomas' shoulder from 
behind and made them stop and turn.

"It's Civilian Lomas nowadays." Lomas smirked.

"You are needed on the Galactic, sir." The lieutenant spoke.

"Why?" Lomas stared at the man eyes wide. "I have nothing to do 
with the military any more!"

"I have no information on the matter." The lieutenant replied, 
impatient to go. "Please, follow me. I have a military shuttle 
waiting which'll take you directly to the sick bay areas..."

* * *

"Now this is more like it." Starbuck beamed at the strikingly 
handsome man in the mirror. "Okay, I admit it. I guess I'm not 
really a dress person after all. I just kept thinking that it 
would have been kinda nice to have the whole package for once. I 
mean, you being a traditional kind of guy and all..."

"Hey, I never mentioned anything about any traditional stuff." 
Apollo hurried to point out. "I would've been very happy with 
quick, simple sealing without any trimmings. It was you who 
insisted in the last episode on a proper ceremony with dresses 
and stuff."

"Calm down buddy." Starbuck smirked. "I was only kidding you, I 
know I did. And I do. I still do want the trimmings. The cake and 
the gifts, the dress and stuff..."

Starbuck turned back to look at the reflection in the mirror. 
"Yeah, I guess I'd still die for the dress thing. It's just 
that..." 

Starbuck's eyes lingered from the mirror to the pile of clothes 
on the counter. "...I had no idea that all of them would turn out 
to look like something to eat!"

Apollo laughed.

"...Hey, what do you say we go to the Rising Star after this and 
treat ourselves with a romantic dinner with fine ambrosa..." 
Starbuck grinned. "...You're paying of course."

"You turd." Apollo slapped Starbuck's behind, making the other 
man giggle. "Come on, take off the tuxedo. We have a shuttle to 
catch."

"So we ARE going to the Rising Star..." Starbuck pulled open the 
bow on the shirt collar, eyeing Apollo

"I'm sorry Starbuck. I can't." Apollo concentrated on bundling 
his tux into the bag the salesperson had given him. "I'm 
scheduled to give Aeon navigation instructing..."

"Frack." Starbuck frowned truly disappointed. "I forgot."

"I'm sorry." Apollo said so quietly Starbuck didn't hear it.

"Hey, be careful with that tux or you'll wrinkle it." Starbuck 
realized what Apollo was doing. "Don't expect me to do any 
ironing for you..."

Apollo laughed, though a little unnaturally. "What I wrinkle, I 
iron. I promise."

30 centons to meeting Aeon in the launching bay X-area. Apollo 
tried to not think about it but it was all that he could think 
about.

"It won't take long." Apollo promised. "I'll be back in a centar 
or so and then we can finish writing those invitation cards, 
okay?"

"Sure." Starbuck grinned. "Don't wear yourself out darling. I 
have some plans for us when you get back."

"Don't try to distract me Starbuck." Apollo laughed. "I have to 
be a tough teacher and an esteemed captain in half a centar." I 
have to be a trustworthy fiancée and an immune, impotent monk in 
half a centar. "But I'll hurry back, I promise."

A smile remained on Apollo's face as his gaze lingered on 
Starbuck. "I love you Bucky..."

* * *

Cree was the first one to notice Lomas. The sight of that man who 
was so special, yet so unreachable to him made Cree want to look 
away, but he didn't. He watched as Lomas and Astral approached 
the usually restricted operation area where Cree and the others 
had been waiting.

"Thank you for coming Lomas." Doctor Wilker who was now present 
in the sick bay in addition to Tigh, commander Adama and Cree, 
smiled pleasantly and started towards Lomas to greet him.

"What is this about?" Lomas' eyes lingered from man to man, until 
they stopped on Cree. "Hi buddy. How're ya doin'?"

Astral had remained a little behind, not really knowing whether 
this thing would concern him too or not.

"You have no idea why you were brought here?" Wilker's eyes were 
on Lomas, who shook his head.

"Nope."

All men fell quiet for a centon. Then Cree walked to Lomas. 
Lomas' eyes watched him approaching.

Still not really being able to look Lomas straight in the eyes, 
Cree reached out and kissed Lomas on the lips. Softly, like the 
breeze. Lomas could feel saltiness. Had Cree been crying? Lomas 
tried to see signs of tears but there were none. Cree was 
smiling.

"I have to die." He started speaking, quietly as if being in pain 
but there was no hesitation in Cree's voice. "You know what I am 
and there is no way I will ever be able to stay with 
you..."

Lomas knew and it hurt like hell.

Although Cree had been an annoying little thing most of the time 
he had been alive, always having clung onto Lomas, driving him 
crazy, Lomas had cared for Cree in a weird way. He still did. 
Even now though Cree was...whatever he was, an awaken one... it 
was so painful to let him go again...

"I know." Lomas whispered. He touched Cree's cheek softly.

Cree's eyes were on the pale waterponds as he extended his hands 
towards Lomas, a blade resting on his upturned palms. Lomas 
stared at that blade, cold chills starting to run down his spine. 
He looked up at Cree, his lips moving a little but no words 
coming out.

"I'm ready to die, Lomas." Cree smiled, a little sadly. "But I 
want you to kill me."

Astral gasped. Wilker, Tigh and Adama said nothing, just tried 
not to watch, not to witness that beautiful boy offering his life 
away. Wanting to give Lomas the very last thing there was to 
give.

"Have you gone completely insane!" Lomas was horrified, staring 
at Cree. "There's no way in frack that I'm going to be 
responsible for taking your life!! For Sagan's sake!! You need to 
get your head examined!..."

"I knew you'd react this way." Cree smiled. "And I love you for 
that. But..."

"You're crazy!" Lomas was disgusted.

"...You have no choice Lomas." Cree concluded, his eyes not 
faltering. "I have a detonator under my cape. If you refuse to 
kill me, I will blow up this room and you will all die."

"Idiot!" Lomas snorted. "But you know what! I don't give a shit! 
Just... blow away." Lomas waved his hand. "I'm not afraid to 
die."

"You forgot something." Cree said wearily, and right at that very 
moment Lomas had laid his eyes on Astral. And he paled.

"You may not care about yourself, Lomas." Cree's eyes lingered to 
Astral too, then back to Lomas. "But you don't want him to 
die..."

"Cree..." Lomas' hands trembled. "I'm asking you... Please, I 
can't kill you. I can't hurt you..."

"You always hurt me Lomas." Cree smiled sadly. "But this time the 
pain would be sweet."
Lomas' eyes turned back to the blade on Cree's palms, staring at 
it for a long time.

Slowly, like in a slow-motion nightmare, Lomas reached out and 
took the blade. It felt cold against his skin. Cold like death. 
He looked up at Cree in the eyes. And he pushed the blade into 
Cree's stomach.

Blood starting to shower on his hands, red and warm, splashing 
onto his face, running down his arms, first dripping then gushing 
to the floor, creating an ocean of demise...

Cree's eyes were wide and surprised. God, how the eyes of the 
person always turn surprised at the very moment of death, Lomas 
couldn't look at them. He felt his insides turning upside down 
and coldness starting to reach all over. Coldness that would 
never again leave. Lomas' heart was screaming from pain.

Cree pressed Lomas hands on the wound where the blade was still 
sticking out from, and he smiled, his face turning pale, the lips 
losing all color...

"I love you Lomas." The boy whispered.

Slowly, as his legs started losing all their strength, Cree fell 
to Lomas' arms, sliding to the floor where he remained unmoving, 
his eyes were open, staring into something that no one in the 
room could see. Lomas didn't even know he was crying. He couldn't 
feel the tears. Kneeling there beside Cree, he bend down and 
kissed the boy's forehead.

Never before having prayed, Lomas spoke to the Sagans in silence, 
in his heart. His eyes were closed, his silent words pained and 
fragile. For a moment, Lomas was somewhere else. In a place where 
there was only darkness.

Someone placed a hand of his shoulder and Lomas opened his eyes 
to see who it was.

"It will be all right." Adama's face was compassionate. The old 
commander had kneeled beside Lomas to give him comfort as if 
there could ever exist such thing.

"Yes." Lomas didn't smile, he didn't say anything else, but he 
knew. It would be all right.

Letting Adama help him up from the floor, Lomas' gaze searched 
for Astral in the room. He couldn't spot the angel anywhere. The 
hand of darkness was reaching back again, ready to clutch Lomas' 
heart...

"I'm sorry." Astral's soft voice came from close behind.

Lomas turned and immediately pulled Astral into an embrace so 
tight that Astral could barely breath.

"Everything will be all right." Lomas smiled. He was squeezing 
Astral's body against his own, not ever wanting to let go.

"Yes..." Astral whispered, eyes closed.

Politely Tigh, Wilker and Adama looked away, starting to chat 
about whatever feldercarb came to their minds first. Nobody was 
watching at Astral when he opened his eyes. Nobody saw the 
fleeting glimpse of white before it disappeared.

Perhaps it was just the lights in the room...

"Hrrmph!" Tigh cleared his throat trying to signal to those two 
loverboys that there were still others in the room. Lomas slowly 
let go off Astral, amused by Tigh's discretion. 

"Thank you." Lomas whispered to his angel, still staring into 
those green diamond eyes.

He felt a funny sensation that they were paler than before. Less 
intense. That thought made Lomas almost burst out laughing. 
Cree's death had obviously affected him more than he had 
realized.

"Everything will be all right." Astral was smiling at Lomas, 
holding onto his hands.

"I know." This was one of the things that Lomas so much loved in 
Astral. Unselfishness.

God, those eyes seemed even paler than before. Lomas wanted to 
pinch himself to make these stupid illusions go away.

"Are you ready to leave this place?" Astral asked Lomas gently, 
knowing very well how much killing Cree must have torn his heart. 
"We can go to the quarters..."

"Astral..." Lomas stared at those eyes. "There's something..."

"No there is not." Astral smiled, this time a little more coolly 
"It's nothing. Let's just leave this place."

"Thank you Lomas for helping us out." Adama's voice was lingering 
from somewhere far far away, weak and funny, like if it hadn't 
been in this universe at all. Lomas felt his heart turning 
colder. He couldn't stop staring at those eyes.

"Is everything all right?" Tigh asked from somewhere beyond 
distant galaxies.

"You are one of them, aren't you." Lomas heard a painful, 
jingling sound and he knew it was his heart shattering. "You died 
in that fire..."

Astral didn't answer right away, just stared at Lomas with those 
now snow-colored eyes. How cold they made Lomas feel.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Lomas was tired now. No strength left 
to understand. "Nothing couldn't have changed how much I love 
you... It still hasn't changed."

"Don't you see..." Astral's beautiful face lingered further and 
further away until it was merely a  diaphanous star in the 
horizon of emptiness. Lomas was sure he was going crazy.

"They wouldn't have... they won't let me stay with you." The 
diaphanous sparkle formed words that were so hard to construe. 
"They will kill me, just like you killed Cree."

"No..." Lomas wanted to cover his ears and drift away. Far away.

"I'm different now. Unwanted, unbelonging..." Astral swallowed to 
get rid of the pain in the throat but it didn't go away.

"I won't let them take you away from me." Lomas reached out for 
the faraway angel through the veil of tears. "You and me will be 
together, always. If I had to die with you, I will..."

The door of the sick bay opened with a hiss and two or three 
guards entered, walking straight to Tigh. Astral's eyes followed 
them.

"I don't want to die..." Astral hardly said those words aloud. He 
watched how those guards exchanged discreet whispers with Tigh, 
cast a discreet glance at Astral before turning and starting 
towards his direction. Astral's lips started forming silent 
words...

Lomas' turned his head slowly and his eyes met the approaching 
guards. For a moment time stood completely still. There were no 
sounds, no movements.

Lomas grabbed Astral by the arm and pulled him into a run. 
Together those two men dashed past the guards, towards the exit, 
hearing the sounds of laser shots from behind. Everything was 
seeming to be happening in slow-motion, like in a dream. All 
sounds seemed octaves lower, like coming from a broken cassette 
player.

Lomas dived to the door and pressed the button. The goddamn door 
didn't open.

Cursing out load Lomas turned to look behind. The guards were 
still approaching, their weapons drawn but no lasers were fired 
at that very moment. Tigh was holding a remote control, pointing 
it at the door.

Lomas knew very well what that thing was and frowned. There was 
no way they would get the door open now that Tigh could control 
the lock.

Feverishly Lomas eyed around the sick bay, still holding onto 
Astral's hand.

There were no windows, no other exits apart from three other 
doors, which led to two smaller offices and an autopsy room. That 
wasn't much help.

Lomas noticed a small hatch on the wall quite close to the exit. 
The garbage tunnel!!

They could jump into that tunnel and it would take them to the 
bay area, where the sanitation ship's trash pallets landed twice 
a day to gather the garbage. Lomas pondered hard for a hundredth 
part of a micron...

No. The garbage tunnel was out of the question. Lomas didn't want 
to get his hair dirty.

One of the guards was now within reaching distance. He had such a 
stupid action movie grimace on his face and was shouting orders 
to the two other guys that were directly behind him. Lomas stared 
at the guards, his head now completely blank from ideas. For 
Sagan's sake they were trapped...

Suddenly the guard with the action movie grimace stumbled on a 
blanket that either Dimstar or Nicael had left on the floor and 
fell flat on his face. The guards that were running right on his 
tail, were obviously too close to be able to stop in time, 
stumbled on him and fell to the floor, cursing out loud.

Tigh let out an agonized sigh. And he forgot about his remote 
control for a moment.

Not hesitating even for a micron Lomas slapped his hand on the 
blue button and the door started opening, s l o w l y. Sagan it 
seemed to take forever.

Lomas grabbed the edge of the door, trying to force it sideways 
more quickly. Astral's eyes were on the guards now groaning and 
climbing up from the floor.

Tigh looked up and noticed what was going on with the door. He 
damn quickly pressed the lock up again but it was too late. Lomas 
grabbed Aeon by the hand they dived through the gap in the 
doorway. Just before it closed.

Lomas turned and gave the lock button a strike of a lifetime. It 
broke just as the door was starting to open again and the door 
halted.

Tigh's frowning mumbles carried from the other side. Grinning, 
feeling once again free and invincible, Lomas placed his hand on 
Astral's shoulder, pleading the man to turn.

There was so much fear, worry and desperation on Astral's face, 
but a glimpse of relief too. Relief, confusion and gratitude. 
Lomas pulled Astral closer, very close, holding the man's both 
hands in his own.

"I don't care what you say you are." Lomas gazed into the pale 
green eyes that differed so much from the bright diamonds they 
normally were. "I don't care whether you have died and come back 
or whatever feldercarb has happened to you during these past 
days..."

Lomas smiled. He leaned forward to kiss Astral's lips. A soft, 
lingering kiss.

"I don't care where your path takes me." Lomas mumbled to 
Astral's ear. "I love you. I will follow you to the edge of the 
world."

A little smile lingered on Astral's face. He closed his eyes.

"We'll steal a shuttle and find a place of our own." Lomas placed 
a gentle kiss on Astral's forehead. "A planet where we can..."

"Lomas..." Astral whispered, still keeping his eyes closed. "You 
don't understand. I don't want to leave the fleet. It would be 
the same thing for 
me as dying. I can't..."

"Shhh..." Lomas pressed his face against Astral's. "It will all 
work out. We'll find a place to hide..."

They both knew it would be impossible. For a little moment they 
both believed in it.

"Come." Lomas took Astral's hand. "We need to get away from here 
before Tigh and the others manage to get the door open."

Together they started down the corridor.

* * *

Aeon was already there, Apollo could see the man from far away. 
Quickly, he straightened his jacket, ran his fingers through his 
hair and created a formal smile on his face. It turned out 
everything but formal.

"I'm so sorry that I'm late." Apollo's hands were trembling and 
he had to keep them behind his back as he approached Aeon.

"Me and Starbuck, we were on the textile ship shopping for 
tuxedos and I missed the earlier shuttle..."

"Don't worry about that." Aeon smiled warmly. "It doesn't matter 
in the least."

"Shall we proceed?" Apollo cursed himself for being so fracking 
nervous.

"Sure." Aeon nodded. Apollo had to force his eyes away from the 
man's face.

"We have an ARX-system shuttle to our use and the launch 
controlling unit is informed about our centar of training. They 
are prepared to get us into space as soon as we're ready."

"Sounds good." Aeon was walking too close to Apollo. It made 
Apollo's hands sweat. It made his heart beat three times as fast. 
Apollo was sure he was going to have a heart attack any micron. 
They stepped into the shuttle.

The air was a little stuffy and too warm. Apollo wished he could 
take off his jacket, wipe the perspiration off his forehead, run 
like hell away from Aeon...

"It's hot in here, isn't it." Apollo panted, just to say 
something, anything. Break the silence.

"Yeah..." Aeon walked to the pilot seat and sat down, eyeing the 
control board already concentrating on preparing the shuttle for 
take off.

Apollo watched him.

"So...How many times have you flown this thing?"

Aeon turned. "The ARX? Only twice before. Cadet Martin never gave 
me a chance with anything else than a C-wing."

"The ARX is not that different." Apollo smiled. "It only has more 
buttons and switches to make you more confused, that's all."

Aeon laughed softly. "Yeah, plus four more thrusters, five-level 
exhilarator, 40 percent more interior space, 25 percent increase 
in amplitude..." Aeon fell silent for a while. His eyes were 
lingering on Apollo. When he spoke again, his voice was lower 
than before. Less formal. It suddenly frightened the feldercarbs 
out of Apollo.

"Do you know why I applied for a new navigation instructor?" Aeon 
asked, scrutinizing Apollo's face.

Apollo shook his head, not trusting his voice.

"And I didn't just ask any new instructor..." Aeon's continued 
softly, that softness in his voice making Apollo dizzy. "...I 
asked for you."

All blood disappearing from Apollo's head. The world took a leap 
sidewards, forcing Apollo to grab a hold of anything that was 
nearby to keep his balance.

"Why??"

"I think it's obvious." Aeon smiled. He was still sitting on the 
pilot seat but his dark eyes seemed to be so close to Apollo he 
couldn't breath.

"Obvious?..." Apollo croaked. The floor was swaying nauseatingly.

"Yes." Aeon arose from the chair and walked to one of the shuttle 
windows, remaining standing there with his back turned to Apollo. 
"There is something I need to talk to you about."

"There is...?" Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! Apollo held his 
breath. Was Aeon going to confess he had feelings towards 
Apollo... And if he did, how in the names of heavens would Apollo 
ever be able to refuse those feelings when he was feeling the 
same way, but still, at the same time loving Starbuck more than 
life itself...

"You've been watching me." Aeon said expressionlessly. He wasn't 
looking at Apollo.

"Err..." Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh... Frack!

Aeon turned. "You shouldn't have such feelings towards me. We are 
not meant to be together."

"I know." Apollo mouthed, for he couldn't find his voice. He 
couldn't turn his eyes away from Aeon. He was embarrassed as 
hell.

"Your life is with Starbuck." Aeon continued softly, meeting 
Apollo's gaze.

"Yes..." A glimpse of warmth swept over Apollo's face as he 
thought about Starbuck. It was a glimpse of love, but there were 
black shadows of anxiety 
behind it.

"Yes. I love Starbuck with all my heart. I'd never do anything to 
hurt him. 
I'd rather die... But..."

"...But you can't stop feeling the way you do towards me." Aeon 
concluded with a trace of sadness in his soft voice.

"I'm... I'm completely enticed by you." Apollo couldn't 
understand. "Every time I'm near you, every time I think of 
you..."

"I know." Aeon smiled sadly.

"...It's so painful it's destroying me, yet it burns so sweetly. 
I feel like I'm flying too close to the sun..."

Aeon gazed at Apollo without saying anything for a while. The 
light of the launching bay outside was coming in through the 
shuttle window and creating shimmer in Aeon's hair, yet the face 
of fairy-tales remained in shadows.

After centons of silence, Aeon started towards the other man, 
walking so softly his footsteps made hardly any sound against the 
metal floor.

"I cannot take those feelings away Apollo. "Aeon was walking 
closer and closer. "You must deny them, you have to be strong."

"For heaven's sake don't you think I've been trying." Apollo 
replied with a choked voice. "I'm being torn to pieces..."

Aeon was now in front of Apollo, his eyes so dark, so 
devouring... "I do not feel the same way towards you Apollo. I am 
not in love with you."

"I'm not in love with you either." Apollo replied, almost  
angrily. "My whole being belongs to Starbuck."

Aeon didn't answer, just gazed at Apollo with sympathy.

"But the way you make me feel..." Apollo struggled back a choked 
sob. "If there is hell, I'm being burned by it's flames. I have 
no control over this..."

Aeon had no idea what to say. He put his hand hesitatingly on 
Apollo's shoulder.

"I so much wish there was something I could do..." Aeon 
whispered. "...but there 
isn't. I can't take away your emotions for you."

"I know." Apollo smiled through pain. The smile turned to a 
little grin "It's damn hard to be human!"

Aeon gave a little laugh. He reached out and pulled Apollo into a 
hug, not letting go until Apollo ceased to struggle back.

Together, in complete silence, those two men with shadows in 
their hearts, held each other close, for a fleeting moment trying 
to ignore the pain of having emotions.

It's just like Apollo said: Sometimes it's damn hard to be human, 
but as God once told Adam in the beginning of everything: It's 
hard to be human, indeed. But it's a hell of a lot harder to be a 
one-legged rabbit in a pink leather coat.

Centons passed until Aeon finally let Apollo go. Still, the men 
didn't move away from each other's closeness. They kept standing 
there, face to face, knowing exactly what the other one was 
thinking, yet trying to make sense of the tumult of thoughts of 
their own.

"Perhaps we should get this shuttle launched before they send 
someone down here to check out what's going on." Apollo finally 
spoke.

"You're right." Aeon smiled. He touched Apollo's shoulder once 
more before turning away and walking to the pilot's seat.

* * *

"I think we've lost them." Astral looked back. The corridor from 
the beta sector was empty.

"But it's still not safe to stop." Lomas kept urging Astral 
forward. "They may have called for help, we mustn't rely on our 
luck..."

Lomas turned his head to give Astral a beautiful smile.

"I'm not taking any chances when it comes to you. I'm getting 
you... us... to a 
safe hiding place, no matter what it takes."

"I know." Astral smiled.

They both knew in their hearts that their struggle for safety was 
pointless. They would never succeed in escaping. Neither of them 
said it aloud.

"I think I have a plan." Lomas spoke without looking at Astral 
now. They were approaching a door at the end of the corridor, 
hoping to slip through it to the next sector without anyone 
noticing. (DUH!)

"You do?" Astral's eyes was on Lomas' back since Lomas was 
walking ahead of him.

"Yes." Lomas mumbled. "I think I know someone who can help us..."

"No one will help us." Astral wasn't quite that optimistic. "You 
keep forgetting what I am. No one wants me amongst the people of 
the fleet..."

Lomas didn't answer. Instead, he signaled Astral to be completely 
silent.

He pushed open the door in front of him, just a little, and let 
his eyes sweep over the next corridor through that tiny gap. The 
corridor was empty. It seemed safe to proceed.

"Come, angel." Lomas turned to give Astral a quick, encouraging 
smile and took his hand. "You must believe in me. I really think 
there is a way..."

Quietly, they sneaked into the next corridor, following their 
hopeless dream...

* * *

"This is cadet Aeon asking permission to launch shuttle ARX-2."

"Finally!" Rigel's curious voice came from the speakers. "We were 
beginning to wonder what you guys were up to! You've been in that 
shuttle for ages without contacting the bridge control..."

"Oh, we were just going through some basic details with cadet 
Aeon." Apollo answered to the communicator microphone before Aeon 
did, casting a conspirator's glance on the beautiful man. "But we 
are ready to proceed with the instructional session now..."

"Good." Rigel's voice replied. "You will be third in launching 
order. We have a regular flight to the Aerian due next, then a 
charter flight for the Canaris to the Aquarian. After that, it's 
your turn captain."

"Cadet." Apollo replied to the microphone with a grin.

"Excuse me?"

"From this point on, cadet Aeon will be in charge of this 
flight." Apollo's eyes wondered once again to the man beside him.

"Yes sir." Rigel tried to suppress her amusement. "Cadet Aeon, 
are you ready for the co-ordinates?"

"Yes ma'am." Aeon replied, buckling up his seatbelt and placing 
his forefinger playfully on the turbo button. He glanced at 
Apollo. "Hold onto your seat Captain. Here we go!"

"My life is in your hands, buddy." Apollo grinned. "You better 
not make a miscalculation in the delta process or my career is 
ruined!"

Aeon started preparing for the take off. Apollo kept watching 
him. They both pretended not to notice.

Centons seemed to go slowly as frack. Apollo kept tapping his 
fingers against the control board, feeling uneasy sitting beside 
Aeon in that small shuttle.

"The area outside the Galactica is now clear." Rigel's voice 
finally informed. "You may launch when ready."

"Copy that." Aeon switched up the balancer and the sequencer 
neutralizer (Yes, two tacos and a burrito) and glanced at the 
sigma readings to make sure that the air-conditioning worked.

"Ready captain?" Aeon glanced at Apollo.

The other man nodded.

Apollo and Aeon leaned back in their seats and jolted with the 
vehicle as it shot forward. The launching tube seemed to last 
forever like it always did. Then it suddenly ended and there was 
nothing else but stars outside the windshield. Diamonds of light, 
seeming to be so close one could reach out and touch them.

Alone, billions of them. Alone in darkness.

Once again Apollo's eyes lingered secretly back to Aeon. Quickly 
he forced his gaze away.

* * *

Starbuck was lying on the bunk, his hands behind his head, 
staring at the visions of his imagination on the ceiling.

Starbuck wasn't blind. He knew very well their was something 
going on with Apollo and Aeon. Not anything physical, Starbuck 
trusted Apollo. It was something emotional. Something that Apollo 
tried so hard to fight against. Sagan it hurt! It was killing 
Starbuck but he would never say a word about it to Apollo. There 
was no need to. Starbuck knew in his heart that Apollo truly 
loved him. He saw it in Apollo's eyes every time they looked at 
each other, heard it in his voice every time Apollo spoke to him, 
felt it in Apollo's touch every time he reached out for 
Starbuck...

There was a knock on the door, startling Starbuck.

He arose to a sitting position on his bed and glanced at his 
timepiece. It wasn't even nearly time for Apollo to return yet.

Reluctantly Starbuck crawled to the side of the bed and climbed 
off it, put on his jacket and then walked to the door.

There are no words to describe the expression on Starbuck's face 
when he opened it and saw the person who was standing there with 
such a charming smile on his face.

"I need your help." Lomas cut straight to the point. "We need to 
hide in your room for a while."

"What?" Starbuck almost laughed out loud.

"Please." Lomas wasn't in the mood for stupid questions. He 
gently pushed Astral's back to direct him into the room past 
Starbuck.

"Hey, hold on a centon!" Starbuck freaked out, rushing to block 
Lomas' and Astral's way.

"You must be mistaken by the address! This is not the Rising 
Star..."

"If we wanted to go to Rising Star, Bucky..." Lomas stared at 
Starbuck's face. "We wouldn't be running around the corridors of 
the Galactica, now would we."

"How do I know what goes on in your weird little head." Starbuck 
was leaning his hand against the doorpost to block the way to the 
room.

"This is a bad idea." Astral turned to say quietly to Lomas. 
"Let's just leave..."

"No." Lomas was determined. "I don't ask much of you Starbuck..."

"Hell you don't." Starbuck grimaced. "First you want to steal my 
fiancé, then you decide we are brothers and that I was guilty for 
Baltar to abuse you when you were a child. Later you try to force 
me to kill Baltar and when I don't consent, you freak out and try 
to kill me instead. Then you decide to impersonate me on the 
Piscean and succeed in completely ruining my reputation, and 
finally you start a riot in a court room just to give me 
prematurely green hair..."

"Green?" Lomas raised one eyebrow.

"Gray. Sorry, I really meant to say gray." Starbuck frowned. "You 
are making me confused here!"

"Starbuck..." Lomas' face was serious. "Please help us."

The desperate tone in Lomas' voice made Starbuck pause. He 
scrutinized the faces of those two men before him. Worried faces, 
no arrogance at all.

"What's going on?"

It didn't take long for Lomas to explain. After that Starbuck 
knew he was going to regret having opened the door to Lomas and 
Astral to let them into the quarters for as long as he would 
live.

* * *

"You are doing great." Apollo smiled politely at Aeon who was 
directing the shuttle to what was called 'orbit 6'. (Just some 
technical feldercarb meaning that the area around the fleet was 
numbered according to what was the object's position in the 
scanner circle blah blah blah...)

"There was a minor mistake during the leveling of phi-beta 
turbulence, but otherwise you must have been born with a shuttle 
control stick in your hand."

Aeon laughed and Apollo blushed as vivid images of some other 
sticks started running through his head. Something, a beam of 
unexpected light made both of the men turn.

"What is it?" Aeon asked, suddenly worried.

"I don't know but it looks like the headlights of an vehicle 
coming towards us." Apollo narrowed his eyes. The thing was 
definitely approaching. The lights were becoming brighter. "Look 
at the scanner! Does it give any information about the object..."

"It shows nothing more than a blinking, approaching blob." Aeon 
answered. 

"The info-board gives me no data. The thing is either too far 
away or it's code-scrambled..."

Apollo frowned. "The thing is Obviously not too far away since I 
can see it with my own eyes. It must be shielded from letting out 
data."

"An ARX like this one?" Aeon glanced at Apollo. "Could it 
possibly be a colonial shuttle?"

Apollo stared at the lights. They were now so bright he had to 
shield his eyes with his hand. "I can't make out the form of that 
thing, but..." Apollo paused. "Wait..."

Outlines were beginning to form, but although the object seemed 
to be moving towards them with a terrible speed, its lights 
suddenly turned dimmer, like if someone had just come to think of 
switching the headlights from long-distance to close-distance. It 
reminded Apollo of his great great grandfather who was a truck 
driver...

The outlines of that vehicle had now become clearer. Aeon turned 
to look at Apollo, amazed.

"It looks just like a C-wing!" Aeon gasped. "But it can't be..."

"Frack! It's coming straight at us!" Apollo yelled. "Turn! 
TURN!!"

"What..."

Apollo grabbed a hold of the control stick and started pulling it 
towards himself with all his strength. Slowly, despairingly 
slowly the shuttle began to turn.

"God damn it!..."

The other vehicle shot past their shuttle, missing them by 
millimetrons only. There was a terrible jolt and a shrieking 
noise as something got caught on the wing of the other ship and 
got torn off. It was a bitch trying to hold the shuttle now. It 
swerved off the coordinated orbit and lost its balance. Apollo 
hit his head against the side window.

"Frack!!" Apollo held his head and turned to stare at the tail 
lights of the lunatic ship. "Did you see that? It made no attempt 
at all to try to avoid us!"

Aeon was fighting with the control, he had no time to reply.

Apollo looked at his hand and was surprised to see blood on its 
palm. Quickly he touched his head again and realized he was 
bleeding.

"I need to go and get the first aid box. Can you bring back the 
balance of this thing? I have to get up..."

"If you take off your seat belt you'll crash onto the ceiling 
like a tomato." Aeon screamed. "Don't you dare do that to me..."

Apollo burst out laughing. Aeon turned to look at Apollo like he 
had lost his mind.

"What??"

"Nothing..." Apollo wiped his eyes. "It's just that... Why for 
Sagan's sake do I always get into these things..."

Aeon wasn't listening. He had noticed something in the rearview 
mirror. Quickly he turned to look out the rear window, suddenly 
turning pale as ashes.

"I can't believe it. It's coming back."

"What?" Apollo stared at Aeon.

"The damn thing is coming back!!" Aeon shrieked and started 
pushing the control stick inwards to put the shuttle into a dive. 
Nothing happened. The damn shuttle kept trundling forward like a 
horse carriage. "I hate this thing."

"SHIT!" Apollo looked back and then he too grabbed the stick.

Clenching their teeth, the two men fought to save themselves from 
the rapidly closing ship. It was useless. The shuttle had 
obviously decided that this would be the perfect moment to take a 
nice little stroll in the starlight. Apollo kicked the control 
board.

"Are you crazy?!" Aeon screamed.

The mysterious ship shot over Apollo's and Aeon's shuttle like a 
rocket, Apollo turned to look at Aeon, completely shocked.

"Did you see the code on that thing?"

"No. I was too busy being scared for my life than waving to those 
crazy bastards." Aeon wiped his hair off his forehead and 
frowned. Apollo couldn't help it. He laughed.

"Not again." Aeon frowned. "What is it now?"

"Nothing really." Apollo tried to stop laughing. "It's just 
that... under these circumstances, you're behaving exactly like 
Starbuck!!"

"Maybe that explains why you have such a crush on me." Aeon 
raised one eyebrow.

"Yes, that must be it." Apollo smirked. "I must be doomed."

Neither of the men could remain serious now. The sound of crazy, 
uncontrollable laughter echoed inside the shuttle.

Oh shit!" Aeon happened to glance out of the window but he still 
couldn't stop laughing.

"It's coming back." He hooted, wiping tears of laughter from his 
eyes. "The damn thing is coming..."

Aeon bent over for he was laughing so hard it hurt his stomach. 
"It coming straight towards us...Again!..."

"Why doesn't it just shoot us." Apollo was wiping his eyes too. 
"The creature inside that thing doesn't seem to be very bright, 
does it."

"Look! It changed its direction! It's going straight into a nose 
dive!..." Aeon pointed at the vehicle. "What the heck is wrong 
with that pilot!" He turned to look at Apollo. "What if there is 
no pilot..."

"Somehow that wouldn't surprise me one bit." Apollo ginned, 
staring at the crazy vehicle as it started swirling downwards, 
then gaining control again and settling into a slide. Suddenly 
Apollo's grin faded.

"Look at the code, Aeon." Apollo panted. "Look at it..."

"It's a..." Aeon narrowed his eyes, then he saw it and his jaw 
dropped. "It's 
a Galactica shuttle!"

"A C-wing." Apollo's disbelieving eyes were on the swaying ship. 
"But... that's impossible! There is no need for regular flights 
to make it this far into space and the bridge hasn't informed us 
of any other vehicle supposing to be in orbit six..."

"Shall I contact the bridge?" Aeon asked, puzzled about this.

"Try to establish connection with the shuttle itself first." 
Apollo answered. "Try to find out who the frack is flying that 
ship... If there is a pilot..."

"What if we find out that it's not human but a hostile creature, 
an enemy who has stolen the shuttle..."

"Then we get the hell away from here."

"Why don't we shoot it." Aeon glanced at Apollo.

"We're in a shuttle for Sagan's sake, not in a viper. This thing 
has no laser generators."

"Oh well, that explains why the other vehicle hasn't tried to 
fire at us yet..."

"This makes no sense at all. Why would someone steal a shuttle 
without laser generators instead of fully-equipped viper and come 
down here to exterminate us by trying to bump into our 
shuttle..."

"You have a point there." Aeon grinned. "I'll try to contact the 
pilot. Perhaps it's someone from the Galactica who is in 
trouble."

Apollo was too stunned to do more than give Aeon a nod. Aeon 
switched on the 
microphone.

"This is cadet Aeon from shuttle GA-ARX77 trying to contact GA-
CW5. Can you hear me?..."

No answer, just a hissing sound. Aeon glanced at Apollo.

"Try again." Apollo nodded.

"This is cadet Aeon from shuttle GA-ARX77 trying to contact GA-
CW5. Can you hear me? Are you okay in there?"

Nothing.

"We better get away from here." Apollo's face was serious.

"You're right." Aeon's eyes were on the C-wing. "And quickly too 
since that damn thing is once again coming straight at us."

"What?" Apollo turned. "Oh Jesus!"

Pushing the control stick inwards as hard as he could, Aeon 
managed to drop the nose of their shuttle and slide it into a 
dive, just in time to avoid the C-wing as it hurtled past. Apollo 
noticed that one of its side wings visibly damaged.

"That thing is in trouble!" Apollo turned to Aeon. "It's not 
trying to destroy us! You better try to contact the pilot once 
more. Just in case..."

Aeon switched on the mic. "GA-CW5, can you hear me. This is 
cadet..."

"YO, THIS IS CAPTAIN DIMSTAR SPEAKING! WE HAVE A MINOR 
NAVIGATIONAL PROBLEM BUT WE CAN HANDLE IT. OVER."

Aeon grimaced. He could almost feel his hair flowing at the back. 
"Please do not shout captain! I'm receiving you loud and 
clear..."

"SORRY MATE. OVER."

"And please stop saying over..."

Apollo stared at Aeon, furrowing his brows. "Dimstar... Why does 
that name sound so familiar..."

"YOU GUYS FROM AROUND HERE OR WHAT? OV... SORRY MATE."

"Dimstar..." Aeon thought for a microns. "It must be one of the 
awaken guys that were sent off to some planet..."

"Yes, of course." Apollo remembered. He leaned forward to speak 
to the microphone. "You said you have a navigational problem. 
What kind of a navigational problem?"

"OUR PILOT..."

"Please don't shout." Aeon grimaced.

"Sorry. Our problem is that our damn pilot can't fly this damn 
ship!"

"Liar! I can too! I just can't see a damn thing without 
eyeglasses!"

"You ARE wearing eyeglasses Oscar! One of those old distinguished 
wrinkles gave you his glasses!"

"These are not MY sunglasses! I can't see shit with these..."

"Why don't you take them off then you imbecile!!"

"Because..." Oscar's voice became impatient. "If I take these off 
I can't see a damn thing!"

"But..." Dimstar's voice frowned. "... Oh Oscar! You are an 
IDIOT!"

"You better watch out who you're calling an idiot Dim!!..." A 
sound of a chair 
falling over or something.

"Jesus! Get your hands back on the control stick!!..."

Apollo and Aeon watched as the C-wing shuttle took a steep leap 
upwards and then turned upside down.

"Excuse me gentlemen but..." Apollo glanced at Aeon. "Weren't you 
supposed to have followed the directions given by colonel Tigh 
and made your way to planet Dini, visible in your radar between 
angles 4,8 and 5,1..."

"We couldn't find it."

"Do you ALL need eyeglasses?!!"

"No." Someone laughed. It was probably Nicael. "It's my fault. 
I'm just totally terrible in orienteering..."

"Why couldn't someone else interpret the data?" Apollo rolled his 
eyes. "Like Dimstar for example!!"

"No, he couldn't have." Nicael patiently explained this simple 
obviousness. "He's the captain! I'm the navigating officer! It's 
my job to read the data."

Apollo couldn't believe this. Blankly he watched the C-wing 
shuttle flying upside down. There were still audible sounds of 
struggle in the background, coming from the speakers.

"Are you guys OK in there?"

"Yeah, we're fine." Nicael grinned. "Just a little nauseous..."

Aeon rolled his eyes to Apollo.

"We are returning to the Galactica now." Apollo spoke to the mic. 
"We'll send you some help as soon as we get there. A shuttle to 
trail you to planet Dini or something. Don't worry, we'll come up 
with an idea. Can you manage not to kill yourselves until 
then..."

"Sure!" Nicael grinned. "We are eternal. We can't die."

"That was back in Du'yraan you fool" Dimstar's murmurs came from 
the background somewhere. He sounded like he was being strangled 
by Oscar. "We are not immortal any more..."

"Is anyone flying your ship at the moment?"

"No..."

"By the lords of Kobol!" Apollo let out a sigh of desperation. 

Aeon shook his head.

Apollo took a deep breath and leaned back to speak the 
microphone.

"Okay guys. We are heading back to the Galactica now. Will one of 
you please grab the control stick of your vehicle and fly little 
circles until we can get someone out here to help you! Can you 
manage that?"

"Sure mate." Nicael gave Apollo an easy-going answer. Apollo 
could almost see the thumbs-up sign. "I'm on my way to grab the 
stick right now."

"Good." Apollo smiled. "Try to take care of yourselves..."

"Don't be too long!" Dimstar shouted just before Apollo switched 
off the 
communicator...

* * *

Starbuck watched Lomas and Astral sitting on the couch, hand in 
hand, neither of them talking. Astral kept fidgeting nervously. 
Nobody had said anything for a while.

"This is a completely insane idea." Starbuck finally frowned. 
"There is no way you can do this... Errr, excuse me but, what is 
it that you guys were actually planning to do?"

Neither Lomas nor Astral answered. They didn't know the answer.

"You can't hide anywhere in the fleet." Starbuck continued. 
"There are surveillance cameras everywhere. It's too damn cold to 
stay down in the storage areas. You can't go to any of the 
kitchens to steal food, there's always someone on duty there. You 
guys'll starve to death..."

"That is why we need you Starbuck." Lomas said quietly.

"Hey, don't drag me into this." Starbuck hurried to point out. 
"I'm only letting you stay in this room until Apollo comes back. 
And there's no way in frack that I'm going to be your secret 
caterer... Hell I don't even know why I'm helping you now. I must 
have gone completely crazy!!"

"Shut up Starbuck." Lomas grew tired of listening to that babble.

Silence fell into the room.

Starbuck arose from the chair and walked to the bedroom to avoid 
having to 
look at Lomas' face.

"You don't happen to have anything to drink?" Lomas' voice 
lingered after him.

"There's water in the turboflush." Starbuck shouted back, annoyed 
and angry at himself for... What? Hell, he didn't even know.

For a little time Starbuck played with the thought of not helping 
Lomas and Astral. It didn't make him feel any less irritated. 
What the frack did he want from himself.

A knock on the door distracted Bucky's thoughts. More people 
lining up to be rescued by saint Starbuck perhaps!?

Lomas head appeared from the living room. "Are you going to get 
that?"

"I don't know." Starbuck snorted. "I only have one bed and food 
for two..."

Lomas gave Starbuck a glare. Starbuck ignored it.

The knocking continued. Astral appeared by Lomas' side, taking a 
hold of him 
by the arm.

They all heard Tigh's voice. "Starbuck? Are you in there?"

Astral was now pale as snow and so were his eyes. Starbuck had to 
look away from those eyes, they made him shudder. Somehow they 
seemed whiter than those of the man with the sausages.

"He'll go away if we're quiet." Astral said, his voice trembling.

Starbuck forced his eyes linger from Astral to Lomas and back. 
"This is insanity! I'm going to open the door."

"Please, no!" Astral pleaded. His squeeze on Lomas' arm 
tightened. Lomas' usually so kissable lips had turned into a thin 
straight line as he was now staring at the man who could either 
save them or destroy it all.

"I'm begging you Starbuck." Lomas voice was hardly audible. "And 
you should know how much I hate to do that..."

Starbuck didn't say anything.

"...I'm not doing this for myself. I don't care what happens to 
me..." Lomas eyes lingered away from Starbuck to Astral. Starbuck 
noticed how the look on Lomas' face turned softer. "...But if 
something happened to..."

Lomas eyes closed. He took a deep breath. "...I'm begging you 
Starbuck. Please don't open the door."

Starbuck's eyes lingered on Lomas for a long time. Then he turned 
away and left the bedroom..

Lomas dashed after Starbuck like a daggit and grabbed his arm, 
making him turn. Their eyes met but no one said a word.

Starbuck didn't take his gaze off Lomas as he forced his arm free 
and left the man standing there, pain in those waterpond eyes. 
The room was still bathing in total silence.

Lomas watched how Starbuck walked to the couch and sat down. He 
reached for the military magazine on the glass table, opened it 
casually and pretended to be reading the feldercarb it contained.

After a little while they all heard how Tigh's footsteps carried 
away from the door.

Starbuck still didn't stop reading...

* * *

"What a lesson in navigation!" Aeon laughed as he and Apollo were 
walking towards the elevators that led away from the bay area.

They had landed approximately ten centons ago and immediately 
contacted the bridge to inform the control unit about the 
situation with Dimstar. The operations controller on duty had 
instantly ordered a rescue patrol to be launched. Apollo and Aeon 
were now free to leave the bay.

"A turbowash and a big plateful of fresh mushies have never felt 
quite as inviting as right now." Aeon kept babbling.

They crammed into the elevator with a bunch of bay technicians 
leaving the bay for a coffee break. The smell of solium and 
telium lingered in the air. People were forced to lean against 
each other due to shortage of space.

Through the uniform, Apollo was feeling Aeon's lean, firm body 
pressing against his own...

Level 4 and a cling. Apollo stepped out of the elevator, turning 
back to look at Aeon before the doors began to close. He couldn't 
find words although there was so much he wanted to say. Apollo 
just stood there, feeling ridiculous. Aeon stared back, his eyes 
revealing that he sensed what Apollo was feeling. Apollo couldn't 
stop thinking he saw something else in those dark eyes too. 
Something that...

The elevator doors closed.

A moment of desolation.

Then, slowly, a smile started forming on Apollo's face. A happy 
smile. Apollo realized he was on his way home to Starbuck...

* * *

Lomas couldn't turn his eyes away from the back of Starbuck's 
neck. Those footsteps outside in the corridor had disappeared 
centons ago but Starbuck still didn't move.

There was a stupid page-size picture of a 5th millennium Caprican 
bulldozer on the left hand side and cooking instructions for a 
secton-to-last tulipian casserole to take with you if you needed 
to go on a patrol in that bulldozer on the right. Lomas knew very 
well that Starbuck wasn't paying any attention to what was on 
those pages. He was waiting for Lomas and Astral to leave.

Lomas turned to Astral. "Come. Get everything you had with you. 
We're going.

Astral didn't ask. He disappeared into the bedroom, took the cape 
he had just placed on the back of a chair and came back, walking 
to Lomas' side. Lomas' eyes were still on Starbuck's back.

"Are we going?" Astral asked softly, his eyes on Lomas.

"Yes." Lomas prolonged his answer, concentrating on Starbuck, 
hesitating to walk over to the man.

Yet he did. Leaving Astral to watch, Lomas walked to Starbuck, 
ripped away the magazine and placed it on the glass table. Lomas 
took Starbuck's hands.

Not saying anything, Starbuck obeyed the plead in those waterpond 
eyes and arose from the couch, not taking his gaze off Lomas.

Two men, brothers yet both carrying coldness in their hearts, 
were now standing face to face. How alike they looked now, the 
same height, their bodies built alike, lean and moving with 
delightful natural grace...

Lomas was the one to pull Starbuck into the embrace but Starbuck 
did not resist. For a little moment in time, they were really 
brothers.

"Thank you." Lomas whispered.

He let go of Starbuck without being able to look at him any more 
and walked to the door.

Astral saw how Starbuck turned and watched Lomas go. He gave 
Starbuck a quick thankful smile but he didn't think the man 
noticed, then turned and hurried after Lomas, who had already 
disappeared into the corridor.

Slowly, the door started closing by itself. Starbuck suddenly 
realized he was smiling.

* * *

Aeon turned the key in the key hole and opened the door to let 
himself in. The room was dark. It was always dark. This time Aeon 
didn't even feel like turning on the lights.

After having closed the door and blocked out the stream of light 
that had shone from the corridor, Astral was left alone with his 
thoughts of Apollo. Making his way to the side of the bed in 
darkness, Aeon took off his boots and jacket, leaving them on the 
floor. Not caring. The blanket on the bad felt cold, a little 
damp. Aeon sat down.

He had lied.

Lied, when having told Apollo that he didn't feel the same way. 
Lied, when having said that he wasn't in love with Apollo. God 
how much strength he had needed at that very moment.

Aeon extended his hand and turned on the pale bedside lamp. His 
eyes lingered to a pale, tired-looking but strikingly beautiful 
person in the mirror, on the other side of the room.

"Hey pal." Aeon was too tired to smile. He stared into those dark 
eyes that 
kept staring back, unflinchingly.

Aeon arose from the bedside and started walking closer to the 
person. Closer and closer, until they were standing face to face. 
Aeon lifted his hand and pressed his palm against the palm of 
that other man.

"For a person who started out as a villain of the story you've 
certainly turned out annoyingly decent."

The being in the mirror grinned, then turned to look sarcastic. 
Yet he possessed something immaculate that Aeon didn't have. For 
a little moment Aeon really hated that person.

Aeon turned away and walked to the kitchen. He switched on the 
light in that small room, opened the cupboard and searched for a 
cup.

There was nothing more than a bottle of water in the fridge. Aeon 
took it, opened the cork and pore himself a cupful. How cold the 
liquid felt against his lips, in his mouth, in his throat... It 
couldn't quench the fire in his heart.

It had all began because of Apollo.

Apollo was the reason why Aeon had revealed the secrets of Orion, 
destroyed the ones that had followed him, disobeyed the destiny 
that gods had given him, (Whatever that old man with sausages had 
told them by the campfire, Aeon didn't want to believe a thing. 
He really was the chosen one. No matter what the truth was. Aeon 
wanted to be special...), followed Apollo back to the Galactica 
although he should have stayed behind on the Orion, going through 
a military training to become a cadet so he could be able to live 
on the Galactica... And then turning Apollo away when he had been 
so close to touch...

"Damn you!" Aeon cursed himself. He could never have Apollo. That 
man belonged to someone else and Aeon would never intervene 
between Apollo and Starbuck. And then there was this other 
reason...

Aeon's eyes lingered on the box on the dresser.

* * *

Sagan it was hot in these corridors, the air conditioning must 
have had broken down again. Apollo took off his jacket and 
loosened the collar of his tunic.

For a little moment a feeling that he wasn't alone in the 
corridor overcame Apollo. He turned to look back but there was no 
one. Funny, Apollo could swear he had sensed someone's presence.

Apollo let his eyes linger on the empty corridor and listened. 
There were no sounds, nothing to suggest that there was another 
living soul anywhere near, yet the feeling didn't go away.

"I'm going nuts." Apollo mumbled. "I must have spent too much 
time here in space. Soon I'm going to start believing that I'm 
being chased by little green men..."

Shrugging the idiotic thoughts off his mind, Apollo continued 
down the hallway.

The maker grinned in the shadows, having listened to Apollo 
talking to himself. How delightful people were when they thought 
no one was watching.

Without making any noise, the maker proceeded after Apollo. 
Invisible in the shadows, hiding behind corridor corners, waiting 
for the moment to continue...

God how fantastically knife-edging it felt to secretly follow 
someone.

To watch, observe. To Fantasize.

Feeling so damn invincible when the object was completely unaware 
of being stalked. Risking it all by taking this crazy chance of 
being noticed any micron...

The maker had waited long enough. The desire had grown too 
strong, it couldn't be held back any more. It was finally time to 
play with Apollo.

The maker fought back delighted laughter, thinking about Apollo 
lying there, helpless, his legs and arms tied to the bedposts, 
his mouth gagged...

Oh, how many times the maker had visualized how he would walk 
around the helpless Apollo, letting the fever grow, watching the 
man. The way Apollo's frightened, furious but despaired eyes 
would follow all the movements the maker would make.

Not being able to resist when the maker would finally kneel 
beside the bed, tear off Apollo's uniform with a blade the size 
of the Galactica, little by little revealing that tanned skin 
that was always so damn hidden during the time of duty...

Then, when the blade had made it's first cut on the skin, the 
maker would reach out and touch the drop of blood that would 
appear to the surface. Touch it softly with his forefinger, watch 
the fingertip turning red, then slowly bringing the drop of blood 
on the fingertip to his lips and taste it...

The maker licked his lips. He felt an erection coming up.

Little by little he would give in to the growing urge until there 
would be no more holding back. The blade would sink hard, 
mercilessly into Apollo's chest, deeper until... Oh the smell of 
the hidden. The maker would reach for the heart. Bring it up from 
it's secret hideaway and lift it into the air while it still was 
beating, fighting to live...

The maker lost Apollo from view. Frack! The man must have taken a 
turn while the maker had been unprepared...

Blood gushing in his head, the maker shot down the hallway like a 
laser, not realizing his feet were making a sound of running. He 
managed to stop just before the corner and lean forward to take a 
look. Apollo was there. Having stopped to listen, looking 
puzzled.

Quickly the maker pulled back and pressed his body against the 
coldness of the wall, slowly letting it relax. No sound now...

The maker heard a rattling noise of keys being dug out of the 
pocket. He looked around and realized their were outside Apollo's 
and Starbuck's quarters. Shit, he had totally lost track of space 
being so lost in those fantasies...

Somewhere, an old grandfather's timepiece started chiming.

The maker frowned, realizing it was too late to proceed now. 
Starbuck might be home any micron. Besides, the maker wasn't 
planning to play in Apollo's quarters. In there he would have to 
hurry, to be on his guard. The maker didn't want to hurry. Not 
with Apollo...

The maker inched his head a little forward so he could watch 
Apollo opening the door with his keys and...

Apollo realized the door was already open.

He pushed the it wider open and stepped into the quarters.

"Starbuck. What are you doing there, standing in the middle of 
the room, grinning in that weird way." Apollo's stunned voice 
lingered to the hallway. 

The maker could hear it loud and clear.

"Why is this door open for Sagan's sake?..."

"I have a brother." Starbuck smirked, his eyes slowly turning to 
Apollo, who was closing the door behind him.

"Yeah..." Apollo's raised one eyebrow. "I know..."

"No, I mean..." Starbuck's smirk turned to a smile of 
realization. "I have a brother!"

"What's going on Starbuck." Apollo eyed his lover suspiciously.

Starbuck grinned. "Nothing much. Lomas just popped by a little 
while ago and I kind of realized that although I can't stand that 
daggit..."

Starbuck shrugged and turned, starting towards the kitchen to get 
a drink. He glanced back at Apollo. "Want something?"

"No." Apollo stared after Starbuck. "What do you mean Lomas 
dropped by. I don't quite believe he brought you a birthday 
present and suddenly you guys turn out to be best of friends..."

"My birthday isn't until..." Starbuck paused for a micron. "In 
fact, I don't know when my birthday is."

They both laughed.

"No, Lomas didn't drop by to bribe me." Starbuck grinned amused. 
"He came here to demand that I should save his buddy who had 
turned out to be an awakened one, from the hands of evil Tigh..."

"What??"

"And I did." Starbuck hummed.

"WHAT??"

"I realized I don't hate Lomas." There was sound like water 
running as Starbuck poured himself a drink. "Yeah, I dislike him 
a hell of a lot, I feel sorry for him, I'm ashamed of his stupid 
stunts, I can't stand the way he leaves the toilet seat up..."

Starbuck turned, sipping from his cup. His eyes were on Apollo.

"I don't hate him at all." Starbuck smiled. "And I didn't give 
him or his buddy Astral into Tigh's hands."

"Is Astral an awakened one?" Apollo raised his eyebrow.

"That's what Lomas said." Starbuck poured the rest of the drink 
into his throat and put the cup into the sink. "But enough of 
Lomas!" Starbuck grinned. "Why don't you come here and give your 
hubby-to-be a little kiss."

"Oh Starbuck." Apollo smirked. "When we're sealed you're gonna 
have to stop bossing me about..."

Apollo walked to Starbuck and for a little while the stars 
outside held a million promises.

"Starbuck..."

"Yes darling?" Starbuck was grinning happily.

"We have to talk..."

Apollo disengaged from the embrace.

"I can't hold this back any longer." Apollo's eyes found 
Starbuck's.

"Hold back what?" Starbuck raised one eyebrow. "If you tell me 
you've got herpes I'm gonna kick you..."

Apollo swallowed. "it's about Aeon..."

A little sad smile formed on Starbuck's face. "You don't have to 
tell me. I already know."

"What?" Apollo had to take a moment to completely understand 
Starbuck's words.
"You do?..."

"Yes." Starbuck replied quietly. "I do."

"Oh Sagan, Starbuck." Apollo was suddenly frightened. "I love 
you, please don't doubt that..."

Starbuck took both of Apollo's hands. "I know."

"I never want to hurt you Starbuck. You are everything I live 
for..."

"Please don't speak." Starbuck's face was close to Apollo's, 
their lips almost touching now.

"I can't stop myself from having feelings for Aeon." Apollo 
whispered, pleading. "But that's all. I only have feelings for 
him. You're the one and only person that I..."

"Shhhh." Starbuck silenced Apollo with an intense kiss on the 
mouth. "I understand..."

"I don't deserve you." Apollo rested his head on Starbuck's 
shoulder and closed his eyes. His heart was so warm it must had 
been glowing in the dark.

"I know." Starbuck smirked.

Apollo slapped him on the buttocks.

* * *

Aeon's eyes were still lingering on the violet-colored box. It 
was like it kept calling out for him. Forming secret words that 
only Aeon could hear. He walked to the dresser and picked the box 
up, holding it on his palm against the light from the bedside 
lamp. Little dark lines started forming right under the glass-
like surface, curling like gauzy little snakes with vicious eyes.

Slowly, not really wanting to do so, Aeon lifted up the lid and 
looked inside. It was still there. It was always there. The light 
in the room reflecting from it's smooth surface.

Aeon put his hand into the box and picked it up, the small mirror 
with carvings on its handle. He lifted it higher, to the level of 
his face and looked into it. The face stared back.

There was never any expression on the face, it was just blankly 
horrible. Rubbery skin, no lines, no wrinkles, nothing. Just 
mask-like emptiness. Those eyes had no life. Staring back at 
Aeon, seeing him yet giving away no glimpse of understanding. No 
reason at all. The face had no lips, just a hole where the mouth 
should've been. No teeth, no tongue. No words. Black, long hair, 
most of it having fallen off in clumps. Bare, hairless spots of 
skin all over, covered in strange scabs and scars. No ears, just 
two small holes on both sides of the head.

Aeon stared at the face for a long time before putting the mirror 
back to the box and closing the lid. He brought his hand to his 
own face and ran his fingers over his eyes, his nose, his lips... 
He felt it. It was all there underneath. The face in the mirror. 
It was the dark side of him.

Aeon closed his eyes. He remembered so very well how he had been 
only four when he had found the little mirror in one of his 
father's drawers.

In the days to come, father had never consented to tell him where 
the thing had come from, but one night he had taken Aeon onto his 
lap and revealed a secret that so many people were unaware of.

That very night little Aeon had learned that as every person had 
a dark side in them mentally, they had it physically too. That is 
the reason why no human being was perfect. Their appearance was a 
mixture of the good side and the dark side.

"Uh huh." Little Aeon had stared at papa, trying hard to keep up 
with papa's story. Father had smiled and tried to explain it a 
little more simply.

"You see son, if those people had found a mirror alike you have 
and looked into it, they would only see what they usually see. 
Nothing in their appearance is hidden. They are indeed faulty..."

Aeon had become even more confused but remained politely quiet, 
meeting papa's gaze as the older man was looking thoughtfully 
into little Aeon's eyes.

"That is where you are different my son. Your dark side is 
hidden. You are perfect, just like the adult picture of you that 
we've always had. Purely beautiful..."

Little Aeon remembered the picture. He thought it was funny.

"...And that is the reason why you now see complete ugliness when 
you look 
into that special mirror. It shows solely the dark side of you, 
the side 
that isn't visible with eyes..."

Aeon hadn't understood father's explanation until he had become 
an adult and by then it was too late. Little Aeon had grown up 
seeing the purely dark side of him in that mirror and become 
convinced that he was a monster.

Although he saw the blinding beauty in himself everywhere he 
looked, he didn't believe in it. That monster in the mirror was 
stronger. It was the way Aeon really looked...

He had become more and more isolated over the yahrens. Rather 
than playing with other kids in the playground, Aeon always 
played alone, not wanting to make friends for he couldn't bring 
himself to believe that anyone would want to be friends with a 
monster like he was.

Aeon was so withdrawn during junior instructional period that 
when he blossomed into an even more mesmerizing young man in his 
teenage yahrens, he was so painfully oblivious to all the 
attention he was getting. To Aeon it was a certainty that no one 
could ever love a monster like him, for ugliness was still the 
only thing he saw in himself.

As an adult, Aeon realized the truth.

He finally understood what father had tried to explain to him on 
that particular day.

It had taken all that time for Aeon to internalize that the 
beautiful side and the dark side were separate in him unlike in 
all others but they were still one. Those two sides made Aeon. He 
was both the beauty and the horror.

Yet Aeon couldn't let anyone get close to him and be fooled by 
the beauty when the monster was hiding underneath. Aeon kept 
believing in what he had thought all those yahrens. No one would 
ever be capable of loving such darkness, therefore no one would 
ever be capable of loving Aeon.

Not even Apollo.

Aeon turned off the bedside lamp and sat down. For a moment he 
saw nothing in the dark room. If he could only remain in such 
darkness forever...

* * *

It was stuffy and claustrophobic in the damn cleaning closet. 
Astral would have been ready to take the risk and catch a shuttle 
away from the Galactica. Any shuttle, but Lomas had not 
consented. The passengers were always checked before boarding. 
The bay-guards on duty were surely informed about Astral's escape 
and advised to keep their eyes open.

They both were realizing how impossible their plans were but it 
had been Astral who had spoken out his fear first. After that, 
there was no turning back to comfortable denial. They were forced 
to start making new plans.

Hey, hang on a centon, what the frack am I saying. (Yes, this is 
God again.) That is total feldercarb. There's nothing to plan. 
There are no choices. It would break Astral's heart to be forced 
to leave the fleet and it would damn well break Lomas' heart to 
see Astral having to give up something he wanted so much.

Dying was of course out of the question so all they had left was 
to find a place to hide. Lomas kept lying to Astral and himself 
that they would surely come up with a plan once they had a little 
time to think. Sure.

Now being crammed in this damn closet, Lomas mind wasn't working 
any faster or any more clearly than before and Astral was getting 
hungry and tired, not to mention losing his hope.

"We'll wait until it becomes a little more quiet." Lomas 
whispered. "Things always calm down when sleep cycle begins. Then 
we'll sneak down to the launching bay and..."

The door of the closet was suddenly pulled wide open.

Half blinded by the light from the corridor, Lomas and Astral 
found themselves staring at the doughy face of a sanitation 
worker who must have been looking just as surprised as they were.

"What the frack are you guys doing in there?" The doughy face 
turned from surprised to bloody curious. "Don't you know this is 
a cleaning closet!"

"We were..." Lomas was feverishly trying to come up with 
something.

"...Having sex." Astral grabbed Lomas by the arm to silence him 
and completed the sentence.

Lomas's head turned to look at Astral quite surprised.

Oh, sorry." The doughy face apologized, beginning to close the 
door but then halting as he remembered something. "Do you mind if 
I get my vacuum cleaner from behind your back..."

"No, of course not." Lomas replied without letting his polite 
facial expression fail him. "Be my guest..."

Panting, the sanitation worker crammed his doughy body into the 
closet with Lomas and Astral, trying to reach for the vacuum 
cleaner and the sterilizing cloth.

"This is not working out." He groaned. "You guys will have to 
come out from there while I get my stuff. Do you have your 
clothes on?"

Lomas rolled his eyes. "Yes. Okay, hold on. We're coming out..."

Lomas and Astral couldn't move an inch past the sanitation 
worker.

"Could you, errr, move back a little until we can..."

"Oh sure." The doughy face replied, starting to back out from the 
closet, his butt reaching the light in the corridor first.

Lomas and Astral followed right after him, swaying and stumbling. 
Lomas froze as he saw Astral's eyes in the light. They had once 
again turned pale, this time completely white.

"What's wrong with your eyes mate?" The sanitation worker stared 
at Astral shamelessly curious. "I could call you a doctor with my 
com-unit if you need one..."

Lomas let out a silent sigh. Why, oh why couldn't things just be 
easy for a change.

"No need to pal." He smiled. "My friend's an albino and this just 
happens to be one of his more albino-esque days, that's all..."

"Oh, right." The doughy face grinned. He was still gazing at 
Astral. "I hope you don't mind me asking but... Is that painful? 
I have a cousin who..."

Lomas noticed something. He grabbed Astral's arm and pulled him 
into a run, leaving the doughy face staring after them completely 
confused.

"What is it?" Astral kept panting while trying to keep up with 
Lomas.

"I saw Tigh." Lomas turned to take a look back and almost 
stumbled on his own feet.

The old colonel had noticed them and was waving his arms and 
apparently shouting something. Lomas couldn't make out the words 
but he didn't have to.

"Keep running!" He panted to Astral. "They are sending guards 
after us!"

"Where are we going??" Astral was more and more out of breath. 
"There is no place to hide on the Galactica..."

"We'll find something." Lomas kept going. "Here! This way... If 
we get to the crossing to the G-section before they do we can 
break the lock of the H-stabilizer and jam the doors..."

"You really think that would help..."

"I bloody well hope so..."

Lomas had predicted right. They both noticed the five or six 
guards that were rushing after them. The distance between Lomas 
and Astral and those guards was become shorter and shorter.

"Oh shit! We can't shake them off!" Astral panted. "We are in 
trouble!"

"Then stop wasting your energy on talking feldercarb and run damn 
it!" Lomas too was losing his optimism but he'd rather wait for 
hell to freeze over than let it show. "We can get to the crossing 
if we try..."

Shots were fired and pieces of metal catapulted as the lasers hit 
the walls. Suddenly there seemed to be bits of metal everywhere, 
grazing past Lomas or Astral, tearing little wounds on their arms 
and faces.

"I can see the crossing!" Lomas suddenly yelled, spotting the 
outlines of a narrow metallic bridge in the distance. 
Determinedly pulling Astral with him, Lomas kept stumbling 
forward, for the first time in centons feeling hopeful...

Astral cried out from pain as a laser shot hit his leg. He fell 
to the floor no matter how hard  Lomas was trying to hold him up, 
drag him forward...

"I can't!" Astral screamed. Lomas hurriedly glanced up and saw 
the guards closing the distance. Desperately he squeezed onto 
Astral's arm, trying so hard to get him up. "Please!!!! Try!!!"

Another shot was fired, it's deafening sound drowning Lomas' 
screams.

The shot hit Astral in the chest, making him grimace and curl up 
on the floor, pressing both of his hands on the bleeding wound. 
The floor started rapidly turning red.

A howl of desperation filled the corridor as Lomas' limp body 
fell to Astral's side.

Still convulsively clutching onto Astral's arm, trying so hard to 
pull the angel into safety, Lomas watched everything he had ever 
lived for sliding through his fingers.

No! NO! Lomas couldn't let this happen! He stumbled to his 
trembling feet and, using all the little strength he had left, 
picked Astral up. The world turned colorless for a passing 
moment. Lomas fought to remain conscious as all the blood 
disappeared from his head, making him so damn weak.

Lomas could hardly hold Astral, but he had no choice. With spots 
of lights dancing in front of his eyes, making him nauseous, 
Lomas started his desperate, wobbly run for escape.

Astral sighed with pain. He struggled his eyes open to look at 
Lomas. "It's so cold..."

"Shhhh!" Lomas couldn't get words out because of the immense lump 
of pain in 
his throat.

He kept going forward although he was starting to run out of all 
the little strength he had had left. Lomas' arms were shaking, 
his legs weren't obeying at all but threatening to give in to the 
terrible weight they were carrying.

"I don't want to die..."

Lomas saw tears in Astral's eyes. He tried not to look, for those 
tears were tearing up what was left of his heart.

"You're not going to die! Stop saying such foolish things..."

"Please Lomas. I don't want to die! I don't want to die..." 
Astral was sobbing achingly.

"Stop! Please! Lomas cried. "I'm almost there!! I'm taking you to 
safety..."

Lomas' legs failed him just as he stepped on the bridge. He fell 
and dropped Astral, who almost lost consciousness because of that 
sudden, immense, tearing pain that he felt when he hit the 
ground.

The bridge was slippery as frack. Lomas tried to grab a hold of 
Astral who had started slipping towards the edge of the bridge, 
towards the gaping mouth of nothingness. He wasn't quick enough. 
He missed.

Letting out a shriek of horror, Lomas shot onto his knees and 
dived towards Astral who had only just managed to grasp a hold of 
the handrail before he would have fallen to the emptiness below.

The forklift trucks far below in the huge ceilingless storage 
area looked like tiny ants. People were so small they couldn't be 
seen at all. Lights from windows all around the Galactica shone 
like little stars. It could've been such a beautiful sight. Now 
they were hundreds of little teeth, waiting for Astral to drop 
in.

Lomas caught a hold of Astral's wrist and tried to pull the man 
up. It was such a ridiculously useless stunt that if Astral 
hadn't been in so much pain he would've burst out laughing.

Astral glanced down at the little forklifts, then up at Lomas who 
was totally frantic. Screaming and red-faced, clenching his teeth 
together and holding on to Astral who was dangling above 
nothingness, his grasp on the handrail slipping and slipping as 
the pain was growing harder to bear...

"Help me someone for Sagan's sake!" Lomas howled to the guards 
who were standing at the beginning of the bridge, completely 
frozen, staring at Lomas and Astral like a bunch of retards.

Lomas didn't understand why those guards did nothing to help, but 
how could he have. To him, Astral was alive, the only thing worth 
fighting for in the whole universe. To those guards Astral was a 
military assignment. An object that was ordered to be 
determinated. (Shit! Humans are just like cylons!). Those guards 
weren't allowed to help even if their hearts were telling them 
to.

Lomas glared at the guards with fire of hatred in his eyes. Then 
he saw Tigh, standing behind those officers.

"I'm begging you..." Lomas' pleading eyes lingered on the 
colonel. For a moment there was no anger nor hatred there, only 
fragility. For a moment there was a little boy in those pale 
eyes. A boy that once was willing to believe in the good in 
people before he was destroyed by his father.

"I'm sorry Lomas." Tigh said quietly. He turned to give the 
horrible command to the guards, hating his colonial's job from 
the bottom of his heart at that very moment. "Permission to shoot 
the object granted."

Lomas couldn't believe his ears. He stared at Tigh, his mouth 
opening for a silent scream of horror. The guards lifted their 
weapons at aimed at Astral.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO......" Lomas let out a shriek of despair, seeing 
helplessly how the laser beams hit the body of Astral.

More blood burst out, most of it splattering on Lomas' face and 
tunic. Astral howled out in pain and his grasp on the handrail 
slipped. Lomas held convulsively onto Astral's wrists although 
Astral's weight was now dragging him closer to the edge of the 
bridge. "NOOOOO! GOD, NOOO!!!"

Lomas had never felt such pain. He felt like those laser shots 
had hit him instead of the angel. His strength was bleeding out 
of his body like Astral's blood. His grasp on Astral's wrists 
began to weaken...

The edge was lingering closer and closer as Lomas was becoming 
powerless against the slipperiness and the weight of the man 
dangling in the emptiness.

"Please help him..." Lomas cried, his grasp now slipping no 
matter how desperately he tried to fight back.

The guards stared at what was happening with so much guilt but 
none of them wanted to disobey colonel Tigh's orders. Tigh had 
turned to look away...

Astral's dazed eyes opened and struggled to focus on Lomas.

Lomas met that look of hopelessness through tears. "It's going to 
be all right my love." Lomas croaked. "You'll be safe... I'll..."

"Please don't let me die." Astral whispered with his choked, weak 
voice. His eyes were gazing into Lomas' with despondence Lomas 
had never seen in them before. Those eyes were losing the battle 
for life. "Please Astral, please hang on..." Lomas kept sobbing.

Astral's eyes were beginning to close, his focus becoming hazier 
and hazier for he was now lingering withing the border of 
consciousness and unconsciousness.

"I won't let you go!" Lomas sobbed, desperately trying to cling 
onto Astral's slipping wrists while holding on to something 
metallic on the bridge with his bent ankle. It hurt like frack. 
"Please, don't give up..."

Astral's head fell to the side and his eyes closed. He stopped 
fighting and became completely limp, heavier. Lomas screamed like 
hell just as he lost the grasp on Astral's wrists and watched 
with indescribable horror as the angel plunged into the emptiness 
right there before his eyes. Hurled into his death, taking an 
eternity before crashing into the bottom like porcelain...

For a little moment Lomas was completely paralyzed. He just lay 
there with his eyes open, seeing nothing.

Suddenly he took a convulsive hold of the handrail and started 
pulling his numb body towards the edge of the bridge. Lomas 
couldn't move his legs, he couldn't scream or cry, no voice came 
out.  He couldn't see anything else than the edge. Surrounded by 
total silence of despair, Lomas kept dragging himself towards the 
only escapade he now knew.

His suicide.

Someone grabbed a strong hold of him.

Lomas fought like a lunatic to free himself from those hands that 
tried to save him, tried to keep him from being saved. He kept 
kicking like a wild animal, biting and scratching the two guards 
that were dragging him away from the edge, towards the beginning 
of the bridge where Tigh was standing, a forlorn look in his 
brown eyes.

"I can't let you kill yourself Lomas." Tigh said quietly.

"Why?" Lomas screamed. "Why for Sagan's sake???? You don't care 
about me!!"

"I care for the people of the fleet." Tigh's voice had become 
even more quiet. "No one commits suicide on my duty shift."

"You old fool!" Lomas spat at Tigh. "All you are doing now is 
destroying me!! Why..."

Lomas felt a little pinch and shocked he turned to look at one of 
the guards who was holding a little syringe in his hands. That 
was the last thing Lomas saw before slipping into unawareness...

Someone was humming. An eerie melody that had no sense at all. It 
kept going on and on until Lomas was sure he would go insane. He 
didn't realize he was doing the humming himself.

The room looked hardly bigger than the cleaning closet. Lomas 
eyed around to try to spot Astral but perhaps it was too dark. He 
couldn't.

There were ghosts in the room.

Lomas didn't care.

Swaying back and forth, Lomas kept listening to that hum. Up and 
down it went, from insane cheerfulness to quiet sorrow.

The humming paused as Lomas looked around the room and noticed a 
door. Quickly, like a cat Lomas climbed off the bed where he had 
been sitting legs crossed, went to the door and tried it. Just as 
he had thought, it was locked. Then why the hell did it open.

When Lomas had woken up from being sedated, he had known they had 
taken him back to the Sagittarian. They were just trying to fool 
him by placing him in a room that didn't look anything like what 
they normally were. Lomas wasn't that easily fooled. He knew they 
were watching him with those surveillance cameras.

Why had the humming stopped? Lomas turned back at the door to let 
his gaze sweep around the room to find the reason for this 
quietude. He couldn't come up with any.

Lomas shrugged and stepped into the hallway. Damn it was brightly 
lit and looked nothing like the Sagittarian. Where the frack was 
he. If Lomas hadn't known better he would've thought this was the 
Galactica. But...

What the hell would he be doing on the Galactica?? The last thing 
Lomas remembered was...

Hang on a centon... Lomas had no idea where he had been. Perhaps 
he should ask the ghosts. Or Astral...

Lomas looked around the hallway but Astral still wasn't anywhere 
to be seen. Now, where the heck did that man go. Just a centon 
ago they were hiding in a cleaning closet...

The expression on Lomas' face brightened and his forefinger 
popped up. Well of course. That's where they had just been. The 
closet. Perhaps the sanitation worker saw which direction Astral 
went. Lomas eyed around. The sanitation worker wasn't there. This 
was indeed strange. Where the hell did everyone go?!

"Lomas!"

The corridor was strangely uneven. It was a hell of a tough job 
to walk on it without falling over. Someone must have made 
idiotic reparations on the ship while Lomas had been in the 
cleaning closet.

"Lomas!!"

Where did that irritating noise come from. Lomas heard someone 
keep calling his name like an annoying mosquito that wouldn't 
leave him alone. He slapped himself on the head near his left ear 
where the noise seemed to come from.

"Lomas! Wake up!!"

What do you mean wake up, Lomas frowned. Since when were 
mosquitoes able to speak. And since when had there been 
mosquitoes in space. Someone kick that thing out of here so I can 
concentrate on walking along this stupidly uneven corridor to 
find someone...

There was something horrible outside... outside... What? Lomas 
couldn't quite 
understand.

Something awful was awaiting somewhere beyond. It couldn't be 
seen yet but if Lomas would take one more step he would know 
it... Lomas opened his eyes.

"How are you feeling?" Doctor Wilker's warm smile was lingering 
somewhere in the haze. "You've been sleeping for quite a while. I 
was beginning to think you'd need to be put in the recovery room 
for alphamagnetic enlivenment..."

Lomas stared at the face that was becoming clearer by the micron, 
trying to fight back to remain in the daze.

"The dosage that was given to you was quite an exaggeration." 
Wilker's eyes were on Lomas. "One should be rather careful with 
sedatives..."

Lomas didn't want to remember. That horrible something was 
approaching, it was coming...

"...But those guards were apparently unaware of the 
instructions." Wilker smiled. "I'm sorry you had to be sedated 
Lomas but as Tigh told me, there seemed to be no other choice."

The bridge... The gaping mouth of emptiness... Lomas felt the 
first chills of horror. No, he had to close his eyes and go back. 
Lomas struggled so desperately to go back to the weird 
corridor...

'I don't want to die Lomas. Please don't let me die.'

"No..." Cold sweat all over Lomas' body, making him shiver. Pain 
behind the eyes...

"If you want to, you can stay here a little longer and rest." 
Wilker kept on 
babbling.

Lomas wanted the man to shut the frack up. The pain in his head 
was getting worse.

The bridge... The laser shots...

"How's he doing doctor?"

Lomas knew that voice.

He winced as a lightning of pain shot through him, completely 
paralyzing him for a micron.

"He's still a little dizzy colonel. I think it would be best if 
he stayed here for another centar or so..."

"Has he shown any signs of self-destructive behavior?"

Slowly, Lomas turned his eyes towards the voice of death...

"Not since he woke up..."

"Good. If he does you have my approval to give him a little 
dosage of serotonin..."

"Tigh." Lomas said simply, so much rage in his stare.

"You must understand that I couldn't let you kill yourself." 
Tigh's eyes lingered to Lomas. "I know how much you suffered 
seeing Astral fall..."

"You don't even begin to know." Lomas hissed through clenched 
teeth. His voice was hardly audible.

"Astral wasn't alive the way we are." Tigh tried to explain 
although he knew it was pointless. "He couldn't have stayed 
amongst us for we have no idea what those awaken ones really are 
like..."

"Astral was more alive that I had ever been." Lomas voice was 
becoming lower and lower as the rage kept growing. "Much more 
alive than what you will be."

"Are you threatening me Lomas." Tigh's expression turned alert.

"No." Lomas smiled. "I'm just telling you about the things that 
my crystal ball keeps showing me."

"What?" Tigh raised one eyebrow.

"The future, my dear. The future..."

Lomas shot out of the bed before Tigh had even time to blink and 
reached towards the colonel's laser pistol...

The goddamn holster was empty. Lomas cursed out loud and Tigh 
realized his moment. He attacked.

Like a greased lightning Tigh pulled out the secret gun was 
always carrying inside his trousers with the silk panties and 
aimed it at Lomas. Lomas didn't even hesitate.

Like a Bruce Lee he kicked the gun away from Tigh's hand before 
the man could fire and dived after the weapon like a daggit after 
mushies. Doctor Wilker was quicker.

Wilker picked up the gun and pointed it at Lomas, not 
understanding why Tigh was now screaming at him red-faced.

Lomas started running towards the sick bay exit (Why do I have a 
feeling this has happened before), and didn't give a frack what 
Wilker was shouting at him. Tigh flew to Wilker and being so 
furious that he couldn't get any words out he kept pointing at 
the gun. Wilker looked down at it and realized he had been 
holding it backwards.

Quickly Wilker corrected the position of the gun but frack! Lomas 
had already dashed out the door! It was too late!

Tigh grabbed his communicator and started speaking furiously into 
it to alert guards to the sick bay area. Wilker was just standing 
there, his arms hanging limp on the sides. How could he had done 
such a stupidity. He had gone through basic training with weapons 
like every other man on the Galactica and still...

Wilker sighed. He was definitely in need of a cup of coffee.

* * *

"What a horrible thing..." Apollo mumbled to Starbuck, absently 
since he was shaving in front of the turbowashroom mirror.

"What?" Starbuck's voice lingered from the bedroom where he was 
sitting on the floor, shaving his legs.

"The thing about Astral." Apollo murmured. "How terrible it must 
be to Lomas. I really do hope he is strong enough to handle 
Astral's death. It would be such a tragedy if he fell back to his 
old ways now that he really seems to have changed for the 
better."

"Yeah..." Starbuck replied thoughtfully." Although I must admit 
never thought a change like that could be possible... Why don't 
you ever shave your legs Apollo?"

"Because..."

There was a knock.

Apollo cursed out loud, put down his shaving gear and went to 
open the door to a very angry-looking Adama.

"I expected to see you on the bridge fifteen centons ago 
captain."

"We overslept." Apollo grinned apologetically knowing very well 
that they hadn't. Apollo just hadn't been that anxious to get to 
duty. "I'm sorry. I'll be there in a couple of centons."

Adama gave his lazy son a disapproving look. "I hope you know 
that this is no way for a commander-to-be to act..."

"Have you ever considered the possibility that perhaps I don't 
want to become the commander." Apollo took the chance.

After that Aeon-talk with Starbuck last night, Apollo felt like 
he might finally be ready to deal with the stuff with Adama. The 
look that appeared onto the old commander's face made him realize 
that he shouldn't have.

"We'll talk about that later captain." Adama's lips were a thin, 
straight line. "I'm expecting to see you on the bridge in five 
centons."

The old man turned and left, leaving Apollo lingering in the 
doorway for a while, mumbling quiet swear words and fighting to 
swallow his anger. Apollo closed the door and went back to the 
turbowashroom to continue with the shaving, only to find Starbuck 
sitting on the turboflush.

"Oh no!" Apollo frowned. "Not now!"

"Don't worry Appy." Starbuck grinned. "It's not what it looks 
like. I just finished shaving my legs and decided to come in here 
to keep you company. We have a lot to talk about the sealing. 
It's tomorrow for Sagan's sake."

The blonde pilot was beaming. Apollo could see that Starbuck was 
truly happy. Apollo was too.

"By the way..." Apollo's smile turned away from Starbuck and he 
started spreading more shaving cream onto his face, then taking 
the blade. "I called the Comptel ship earlier this morning and 
they promised to organize us the video camera. You'll have to go 
and pick it up before 14.00. They promised us a little 
discount..."

"Great." Starbuck grinned. "I want every little detail of the 
sealing ceremony immortalized on tape. Did you ask Giles about 
acting as the cameraman?"

"Yep!" Apollo was now concentrating on the shaving, keeping his 
unflinching stare in the mirror. "And Jolly promised to help with 
the catering."

"Fantastic!" Starbuck's face was shining. "What about Boomer...?"

"Hey it's your job to ask him about the cake thing." Apollo tried 
not to grin, keeping his chin steady. "Other than that, yes, he's 
got the rings and a tuxedo and promised not to do any stripping 
before the priest has left the building..."

Starbuck laughed.

Apollo did too, then he paused shaving and scrutinized his face 
in the mirror. “You think I should grow a beard?"

"Hell no!" Starbuck freaked out.

"Even a goatee?..."

"Do you really want to be mistaken for Santa Kobol..." The buzz 
of Starbuck's communicator interrupted their relaxing morning 
chat.

"Yeah?" Starbuck pressed the button. "What's up?"

Starbuck listened with one eyebrow raised. Apollo could hear 
Jolly's voice all the way from the toilet seat area to the 
mirror.

"What is it?" Appy's eyes were on Starbuck.

"Have you tried..." Starbuck tried to cut in with Jolly rambling. 
He rolled his eyes to Apollo who grinned.

"Okay. Don't worry about it. Wear what you want as long as you 
show up." Starbuck ended the call. He looked up at Apollo. "Jolly 
doesn't fit into his tuxedo and he can't find a suitable size 
anywhere on the textile ship..."

"What do you mean he doesn't fit into his tux." Apollo stared at 
Starbuck. 

"He's lost at least 5 cegons in the past few weeks..."

"That's what he's so freaked out about." Starbuck sighed. "He 
says that all the tuxedos the size that he's used to are too big! 
They don't fit like they did before..."

"Sometimes I wonder if there are any normal people left on the 
whole damn fleet." Apollo didn't know whether to laugh or scream. 
"Did you know that Kadeem had a sex change and Giles left him 
because the guy became too much the opposite sex."

"Yeah, Boomer said something about that." Starbuck rose from the 
toilet seat. "I guess I better get dressed and head to the Rising 
Star to make the final arrangements..."

Starbuck leaned towards Apollo and the two men kissed. A long, 
sweet kiss that made Starbuck's toes curl up. "...And you better 
get to the bridge before Adama sends a squadron of officers to 
pick you up!"

"You're right darling." Apollo smiled softly to Starbuck and 
stroked his cheek. "I'll see you in a couple of centars."

"I love you." Starbuck beamed. "Don't work too hard. Remember 
that Boomer has something planned for us tonight. And so have 
I..."

"Yes." Apollo remembered very well and smirked. "Our last night 
as single guys. How could I forget."

"You know what's really great about being the same sex..."

"What?" Apollo had his ideas but didn't say anything.

"We don't have to attend separate bachelor parties." Starbuck 
grinned. "No baby showers or other feldercarb. We can actually 
party together..."

"My my. Why didn't I come to think about that myself." Apollo 
smirked. He gave Starbuck one more kiss before the man left the 
turbowashroom to get dressed.

Apollo turned back to the mirror grinning like a lunatic to 
continue with the shaving.

* * *

The corridors were full of voices. Whispers of the evil.

Astral's eyes were everywhere. Watching as he ran, blaming him 
for letting go until he couldn't stand the sight of those eyes 
any more. Lomas stopped running and let his limp body fall to the 
floor and leant his back against the wall and closing his eyes.

He felt the hands. The ghosts were back, reaching out for him, 
yearning to pull him down to the bottomless cave of madness. 
Lomas didn't need those ghosts. He was already there.

* * *

Adama was pacing around the bridge, annoyed with Apollo still not 
having shown up. The words Apollo had spoken kept lingering in 
his head.

Adama knew his son was right, he shouldn't be so damn stubborn. 
If Apollo didn't want to be trained for commanding duties then... 
But... Damn! 

Adama had to admit it to himself. From the moment little Apollo 
was born Adama had had this dream. Father and son, standing side 
by side on the command bridge of the biggest battlestar in the 
colonies...

"Commander..." Someone interrupted Adama's thoughts. He turned.

"Yes officer."

Lieutenant Daffy hesitated. This wouldn't be an easy thing to 
tell. "It's about your daughter, sir..."

Adama eyed the red-haired, freckle-faced man before him. Athena 
was a subject that Adama never allowed his crew to talk about. As 
far as he was concerned, Athena was no longer his daughter. 

"What is it?"

"Officer Athena has committed suicide by hanging herself in her 
cell, sir."

Adama felt all blood disappearing from his head. He needed to 
take support from the back a chair that happened to be nearby. 
The bridge disappeared for a centon, then came back with sounds 
so loud that they were tearing Adama's ears. 

"When did this happen?"

"The body was discovered ten centons ago, sir.."

"Thank you lieutenant." Adama had to sit down on the chair. Lt. 
Daffy saluted the commander and left the priority area, feeling 
like a rat.

Omega took off his earphones and walked to Adama's side, placing 
his hand on the commander's shoulder. How old and weary Adama 
suddenly looked.

"I'm sorry." Omega said quietly and squeezed the old man's 
shoulder. "It there is anything I can do..."

"Thank you Omega." Adama tried to smile but failed. "Would you 
please get Tigh for me..."

"Of course." Omega immediately started towards the exit of the 
bridge. "What about captain Apollo and..."

"Yes, of course... Please." Adama was too tired to think. He 
buried his face into his palms and let out his silent sorrow.

Omega hurried out the door, shocked and forlorn about Athena. He 
had to find Apollo as soon as possible...

***

Boomer noticed Aeon in the officers' club, sitting alone at a 
table watching people come and go with an indifferent look in the 
brown eyes, sipping what seemed to be coffee.

There was the IFB morning paper spread before him but Aeon wasn't 
seemingly paying any attention to the news. Boomer pondered 
whether it would be okay to go to Aeon's table to say hi. They 
weren't exactly more than distant acquaintances, having destroyed 
the Scorpion together...

Boomer's lips curled up to a little grin. Yeah, he guessed it 
might be all right to go to Aeon and chat a little.

Boomer started towards the beautiful man's table, then stopped.

Aeon stood up, picked up his stuff and headed towards the tray 
where all the dirty dishes were supposed to be placed. Yes, the 
officers' club was on its way to modern times, having established 
self-service centars during breakfast cycle.

Aeon didn't notice Boomer when he walked out. Seemingly totally 
lost in his thoughts the beautiful man walked across the 
officers' lounge and chose the corridor that led to the delta 
sector. Boomer's eyes followed him until he had disappeared into 
that corridor.

God the man was breathtaking! It wasn't fair that someone could 
look like that when others had to struggle with their weight 
problems, zits and bad-hair-days.

Boomer sighed. He walked to the bar, bought a cup of coffee and a 
doughnut and dropped his butt on one of the nearest chairs. There 
was a morning paper on the table and Boomer opened it. He eyed 
through the headlines casually, reading a couple of smaller 
articles.

According to the paper, nothing much had taken place in the fleet 
in the past twenty-four centars.

The Sports Council was planning to open an ice rink in the 
supernova sector of the Rising Star, The forthcoming IFB 
elections had received feedback from the Comptel communist 
association, a mutated Y9K virus had been causing minor problems 
in the public amusement arcade on the Virgon... Nothing special.

Boomer put the paper away and took a bite of his doughnut, 
scattering sugar all over his uniform.

When dusting off that sugar, Boomer noticed that someone appeared 
beside his table, took a chair to sat down. He looked up and met 
the smiling face of Sheba.

"How're ya doin' Boomie." Sheba grinned. "Haven't seen you for a 
while now that I've done part-time duty shifts only..."

"Oh my god!" Boomer stared at Sheba's extremely short, one could 
say 'cropped' hair.

"Looks great doesn't it." Sheba beamed. "I wanted something 
completely different and refreshing for a change so I gave Rigel 
a pair of scissors and closed my eyes. This is the result."

Boomer couldn't take his eyes off the spikes of hair. It was such 
an unexpected look on Sheba that Boomer was completely 
astonished.

"It's... it's... Actually, it looks magnificent." Boomer 
realized. "You should have done that when ages ago! I can't 
believe how good you look with that short hair."

"Thanks Boomie." Sheba grinned. "I'm trying to convince Rigel to 
cut her hair too but she keeps saying that she'd rather cut one 
of her arms or legs off."

"How are you and Rigel doing?"

"Just great." Sheba smiled. "In fact, We were thinking of having 
a baby..."

"Isn't that a little difficult since..."

"No no, we are thinking about artificial fertilizing." Sheba 
hurried to explain. "Plus, we have considered about the 
possibility of one of us becoming impregnated by a well-formed, 
intelligent man. Rigel's already making a list."

"Really?" Boomer stared at Sheba, speechless.

"You're on that list Boomie." Sheba continued with a grin. "We 
might use one or two of our friends for getting a predictably 
fine result..."

"You're kidding!" Boomer dropped his doughnut and his uniform was 
once again covered in sugar.

"Nope." Sheba beamed. "Doctor Wilker has volunteered too but I'm 
not really willing to grab that choice for Wilkie has latent 
infantile atopic dermatitis..."

Boomer pretended not to find his doughnut so he wouldn't have to 
look at Sheba. "Err, which one of you is going to be the one 
to..."

"We haven't decided yet." Sheba smiled. "Depends on the sperm 
donator I guess..."

Sheba glanced at her timepiece. "Shit, Boomie. It seems that I 
have to get going for I promised Jolly to help him organize a 
Tupperware party..."

"But...ummm, We have Apollo's and Starbuck's bachelor party 
tonight! Jolly's supposed to be there..."

"Don't worry Boomie. "Sheba pushed her chair back and stoop up. 
"I won't keep him that long. You guys have fun tonight, eh!"

"Absolutely." Boomer smiled back. He watched Sheba leaving the 
officers' club. Boomer couldn't even remember when was the last 
time he had felt this lonely. He finished his coffee, wiped his 
mouth with a napkin and stood up.

Surrounded by chatter and all those sounds of togetherness, 
Boomer walked out the club.

* * *

Apollo was whistling to himself as he walked along the corridors 
towards the alpha sector and the bridge. What a wonderful day, 
what a wonderful night ahead, what a wonderful thing he and 
Starbuck were getting sealed...

He noticed Omega approaching.

"Apollo!" The bridge operations controller spotted the captain, 
raised his voice from far away and waved his hand.

"Hey there!" Apollo greeted the man with a grin that soon froze. 
The man was looking noticeably worried and pale. Something was 
seemingly wrong.

"Thank Sagan I found you so quickly captain." Omega wasn't 
smiling. "I was just on my way to your quarters..."

"What is it??"

"Athena is dead." Omega blurted out, then realizing that he 
could've done that so much more delicately.

Apollo paled as he stared at the man. "How?"

"She hung herself in her cell..."

A complete silence fell into the corridor.

For a moment a sad, ironic smile was lingering on Apollo's face. 
He wasn't in the least surprised, only immensely sad.

"I knew it would lead to this." He sighed, seeing the image of 
Athena's beautiful face in before his eyes. "And I think she knew 
it too..."

Omega didn't know what to do so he pulled Apollo into a hug. "I'm 
so sorry. I know it must hurt..."

Again a moment when neither of the men spoke.

Apollo surrendered to Omega's embrace, trying to find at least 
some comfort in it.

"Have you noticed..." Apollo whispered. 
He paused.

They disengaged from the embrace. Omega's eyes lingered on 
Apollo, waiting...

"We are losing them all." Apollo smiled so sadly. "One by one 
they all go away. Athena, Cassiopeia, Bojay, doctor Salik... I'm 
beginning to be afraid..." Apollo took a deep breath. "...Where 
will this lead? What will happen next? How much more do we have 
to suffer..."

"I wish I could answer those questions." Omega replied with a 
sunken heart. "If I could, I'd probably be declared  Sagan and be 
shamelessly rich."

Apollo couldn't resist a vague smile. That comment had sounded so 
familiar. Why in heavens did everybody have to turn out to have 
Starbuck-esque qualities at one point of another..."

"What?" Omega didn't understand.

"Nothing." Apollo's little smile faded. "Why don't we get to the 
bridge. I know my father needs me right now."

"I promised Adama that I'd get Tigh too." Omega hesitated.

"I'll come with you." Apollo replied, already going. "Tigh's and 
Adama's quarters are on the way, and I think it might be easier 
for Tigh to hear it from me than... No offense!" Apollo glanced 
back at Omega.

"None taken." The older man smiled. "I understand."

"I'm afraid Tigh might take Athena's death a little hard. After 
all, those two were lovers at one point in time..."

"They were??" This was news to Omega. He tried not to seem 
surprised for it was none of his business, but... "Frack!"

"That's what I thought when I found out." Apollo sighed. He 
turned to look at Omega who had stopped, although the man didn't 
realize it. "You coming?"

"Oh, yes. Of course. Sorry." Omega found his walking ability and 
rushed after Apollo. "Do you mind if we drop by my quarters on 
our way to Tigh's. There's something I need to get..."

"No problem." Apollo was already approaching the end of the 
corridor, ready to turn left. "Let's just do it quickly, okay."

"Of course." Omega hastened his steps to catch up with Apollo. 
"It'll only take a centon..."

The men didn't talk much on the way to the Delta sector where 
Omega's, as well as most of the other bridge officers' quarters 
were.

Apollo's mind was on Athena and the sealing ceremony, and 
Omega's, well...Whatever he was thinking was not revealed to us 
by the time this episode went into print.

The Phi-quarters of the Delta sector were comfortable but not 
exquisite. Mostly they consisted of two rooms and a kitchenette. 
Some complexes might have had bigger turbowashrooms and extra 
beds for family visits than most other quarters on the Galactica, 
(which sometimes caused bad blood between neighbors) but other 
than that, this was not the poshest area of the ship. The most 
wanted quarters were on the alpha sector where commander Adama 
lived. Those were the military suites.

Apollo's and Starbuck's quarters were very much like civilian 
ones which was quite unusual on a battlestar, but the reason for 
that lay simply on Serina's demanding personality. Those formerly 
very militaristic quarters had been redecorated in record time 
during the few sectons of Apollo's and Serina's sealed-life and 
then, when Serina died, Apollo didn't really care about where he 
lived, so he had remained in those quarters.

When the relationship with Starbuck came to the point where 
moving in together was the only option (That had happened quite 
early after the Shadows of the Heart episode...I think...), it 
was natural for Starbuck to move into Apollo's place for it was 
MUCH bigger than the bachelor pad where Starbuck usually crammed 
himself in when not on duty.

Boomer was currently living in one of those pads after having 
quit the stripping and moved back to the Galactica. Giles' and 
Kadeem's pad was just down the corridor, but now that Kadeem had 
become a woman and moved out, Boomer was expecting Jolly to move 
in any day now...

"Here we are." Omega stopped in front of a very normal looking 
gray metal door and turned to give Apollo a smile. "My humble 
kingdom."

"Its funny..." Apollo was watching Omega inserting his keys into 
the lock and turning them until there was a little click. "I've 
never been in your quarters before although we live on the same 
ship..."

"Yes." Omega smiled. "It is funny.”

"I've never even thought about it before." Apollo realized. "I 
mean, I see you on the bridge or around the Galactica a hundred 
times a day do this never occurred to me..."

"Well, let's make this a memorable occasion then." Omega grinned. 
He pushed the door wide open and stepped aside to let Apollo in.

Ville's face was the first one Apollo saw.

* * *

Lomas had no idea for how long he had been sitting there on the 
floor. He didn't even quite know where he was. Such immense 
sorrow. Such devastating grief.

Lomas closed his eyes for a micron and when he opened them it was 
all clear. Lomas knew exactly what there was to do now.

Taking support against the wall, Lomas arose from the floor.

He looked around to make up his mind which would be the right 
direction to proceed. Strange, how everything now looked so 
colorless and blank when only yesterday the world had been full 
of life, full of things to live for. It took Lomas ten centons to 
reach the crossing to section G. No one had paid any attention to 
the man as he had proceeded through the corridors. Perhaps Lomas 
was looking just as faded as everything around him.

He stopped for a moment and stared at the narrow, metallic 
bridge. How small and meaningless it looked against the gaping 
mouth of nothingness. How ignorant it seemed to all the blood it 
was covered with. 

The blood that only Lomas saw.

He stepped onto the bridge and walked to the handrail to look 
down. Such a long, long way to the bottom.

'It's going to be all right my love. You'll be safe. I won't let 
you fall!'

Lomas gazed down at those forklift trucks buzzing around like 
little ants, carrying on with their work, oblivious to being 
watched.

‘Yes, I will get sealed to you Lomas. I will be yours for ever 
after.’

It hurt. It hurt like hell. Lomas couldn't cry.

'I'm one of them, Lomas. I died in that fire.'

Those forklift trucks became black butterflies, small black 
flowers that grow in the sky.

'They will kill me. Just like you killed Cree.'

'No! I won't let you die! I won't let them take you away from 
me!’

Lomas leaned closer against the handrail. Those small black 
flowers opened their petals for him...

'Please, Lomas. Please don't let me die...’

'It's going to be all right. I won't let you fall.’

'It's so cold..."

Lomas could hear those whispers now, calling for him to let go. 
He loosened his grip on the handrail...

'It's so cold...'

'Permission to shoot the object granted.’

Higher and higher those black petals were reaching. Brighter and 
more beautiful became the lights surrounding the emptiness. Lomas 
saw Astral's face far, far away in the distance. It made the pain 
go away. Lomas was smiling as he took a step closer to the edge, 
ready to let go.

'Hey, don't drag me into this insanity!'

Another face appeared next to Astral's...

'There's no way I'm going to start acting as your caterer!'

'I'm begging you Starbuck. Not for me but for Astral...'

'No, you can't stay in the room!'

The other face lingered closer and closer. Lomas suddenly 
squeezed a stronger hold of the handrail. He stared at the face 
approaching...

'I'm going to open the door...'

'Please! You're going to kill him.’

'There's water in the turboflush.'

Closer and closer, veiling the butterflies and the petals. 
Veiling Astral's face...

And Lomas knew. It was not yet time.

He would have to take care of Starbuck first.

* * *

There were faces on the walls, all round the room. Some of them 
unmistakably rotting... And the smell... The ghastly smell...

Apollo turned towards Omega like a laser. "What the hell is 
this?!?"

"Like it?" Omega had followed Apollo inside and closed the door 
behind him, not having forgotten to lock it of course. The man 
was pointing a laser gun at Apollo.

Apollo cursed long and hard for having left his weapon at home 
but how the frack could he have known that the always so calm and 
collected bridge operations controller would this time turn out 
to be a crazy serial killer.

"That..." Omega was smiling as his eyes lingered admiringly on 
what he sometimes playfully liked to refer to as his collage. 
"...is just a little collection of mine. Some of those are 
actually real for real! Can you guess which ones?"

"Collection..." Apollo panted. "COLLECTION!...You can't be 
ser..." Suddenly he paused, noticing to his horror that one of 
those faces on the wall was his own. Apollo saw Boomer and 
Starbuck, Adama and Tigh, Giles, Jolly, Micky Moonshine... And 
Ville. Rotting.

"What did you do to him?!" Apollo cried out.

"What does it matter?" Omega asked, curious. "Isn't it the result 
that counts?"

A moment's silence as Apollo couldn't believe what he was looking 
at. Omega's eyes were on Apollo, observing...

"Why?" Apollo turned and whispered with despair. It was the only 
thing left to ask.

"To complete my collection of course." Omega grinned. "As some 
guy once said: 'I have a dream'. Well my dream is to replace all 
the artificial faces with real ones. And you my dear Apollo, you 
are the centerpiece of it all, the crown jewel of my 
collection..."

Omega felt the urge starting to awaken. His skin was tingling, 
the blood in his veins soon burning...

"I've been patient." Omega's voice had turned somehow hoarse. 
"I've waited for the right moment, and I don't think I can wait 
any longer..."

"What about Tigh." Apollo couldn't understand this sudden, absurd 
turn. "What about Athena?..."

"Oh I don't give a frack about Tigh." Omega tossed his hand 
impatiently. "And Athena then...Well, that truly is unfortunate. 
I do miss that girl..." Omega paused like he had just come to 
think of something. There was a funny twinkle in his eyes. "Guess 
what!"

"What?" Apollo asked, completely blankly.

"I'm the one who has been writing those anonymous dirty letters 
to Athena for ten yahrens now." Omega grinned at the look on 
Apollo's face. "Yeah, I only had to lay eyes on her once when she 
was in junior instructional period and I knew..."

Apollo hit Omega before the man could even lift his hand to 
protect himself. He fell to the floor, a drop of blood appearing 
on his lower lip.

"What did you do that for?" The older man frowned.

"No one talks about my dead sister like that." Apollo prepared to 
strike again as soon as Omega would make one false move.

What Apollo of course didn't know was that Omega had taken a 
special military course in 'fast actions' when younger and was 
now fully trained in bluffing. He didn't even see Omega getting 
up the floor and diving towards Apollo to knock him defenseless.

This time it was Apollo who fell to the floor, twisting his wrist 
and not being able to fight back when Omega jumped on him again 
to tie him up. Using immensely strong sellotape, Omega locked 
Apollo's wrists together behind his back and then put at least 
eighteen rounds of tape around his ankles to prevent Apollo from 
being able to use his legs. To top it all Omega shoved a white 
sock into Apollo's mouth and sealed it shut with sellotape.

The older man stood up to admire his work. Apollo's extremely 
furious eyes were on the bastard but there was no way he could 
get a sound out of his mouth. The sock was choking him.

Omega took a hold of Apollo by under his arms and dragged him to 
the other side of the room. There he paused to gather some 
strength and then bent down to lift Apollo onto the bed.

One... two...three... HOP! Apollo soon felt the softness of the 
mattress underneath.

Omega straightened his back, let out a deep breath and wiped his 
forehead. He eyed Apollo lying there on the bed completely 
helpless and such a fabulous sensation of excitement overcame 
him. Omega could hardly wait for tonight...

"If you behave nicely I might remove that gag when I get back." 
Omega smiled. "I have so many wonderful plans for us..."

Apollo's enraged eyes stared at Omega.

"...Unfortunately I have to get back to the bridge now." Omega 
apologized. "But you understand, don't you captain Apollo." 

Omega grinned.

"Yes. We both know how ridiculous these Galactican duty-centars 
can be. Perhaps I should talk to the commander about them. What 
do you say?"

Apollo's eyes were flaming with anger.

"Oh, how stupid of me." Omega slapped his forehead. "Of course 
you don't say anything. You can't speak with that sock in your 
mouth." Omega laughed.

He bent over to pick up his insignia that had fallen off during 
the struggle, detached it back onto his chest, straightened his 
uniform and grinned.

"I will go now. Please don't underestimate me by trying to plan 
your escape. It won't be possible."

"Mmjhmmmnhph" Apollo was struggling on the bed, talking 
furiously, watching as Omega walked to the door, paused and then 
turned to face the room once more. His eyes were lingering on 
Apollo.

"Oh, by the way..." Omega grinned. "Please, call me the maker. It 
gives me a hard-on."

He turned off the lights and stepped out of the room, leaving 
Apollo alone, helpless and angry as frack in the darkness.

* * *

Starbuck finished his breakfast and stopped reading the morning 
paper. It was almost midday. Time to stop loitering about and get 
to the Comptel ship to pick up the video camera.

Starbuck shoved the dirty dishes into the sink and walked to the 
living room to fetch his jacket. He gave a quick glance in the 
mirror and ran his fingers through his hair before leaving the 
quarters, checking his pockets that he had the cubits with him.

The launching bay was a busy place at this time of day and the 
shuttle to the Comptel ship was almost full, IFB workers hurrying 
to the ship to start their shifts, customers planning on a nice 
centar or two doing a little shopping before it was time to 
return their duties or go home to make dinner for their families.

The Comptel ship was the place to buy all the solium electronic 
equipment for home use such as toaster slicers, IFB receivers, 
stereos and radios, hair curlers, radiation counters, video 
cameras, communicators and recyclable diet pills.

Then there were of course the stores that specialized in the 
stuff used with the previously mentioned solium electronic things 
such as records, magnetic pins and  the home answering service.

The Comptel ship was also the center of all inter fleet 
broadcasting, having 3 digital channels at its use plus 7 
analogic possibilities that were never taken into 
consideration.Daily soap operas, news broadcasts, films, 
documentaries... they were all aired from or via the Comptel 
ship.

In addition to the army, the IFB and the Comptel ship were one of 
the largest employers in the fleet, employing approximately 3/10 
of the whole population.

Starbuck followed the slowly moving line of people into the lifts 
and suffered from a lot of toe-stepping until he reached the 
seventh floor.

He pushed his way out of the elevator and stopped to scrutinize 
the Comptel information board.

At first it all looked like a lot of feldercarb but after a 
couple of centons Starbuck could interpret the signs to a degree 
to be able to find his way to the Degma sector.

The waiting rooms of the Comp-Cam Co were indeed nicely 
decorated. Starbuck wouldn't have minded spending a few centons 
more in that place but the manager opened the door almost 
immediately when Starbuck had stepped in.A fine looking man in 
his early forties, Starbuck noted. Hell, that Garcini suit must 
have cost a lot of cubits!

"Starbuck I presume." The manager smiled charmingly. "Please, 
come into my office. We have everything prepared for you."

"Great." Starbuck's eyes lingered on the paintings on the walls.

"I know you must be surprised that we deal with the reservations 
in the company offices instead of our stores..." The manager 
smiled. "But it's just the way our company operates. We like to 
make our customers feel important."

The older man in the Garcini suit paused to search his drawers to 
find the paper that was ready to be signed. He looked up at 
Starbuck apologetically.

"Please excuse me..." He grinned. "I don't really work for the 
Comp-Cam, just using their premises for my own enterprise and 
helping them out once in awhile out of the goodness of my heart. 
I haven't quite gotten the hang of all this yet..."

"No problem." Starbuck smiled politely.

"Oh, there it is." The manager beamed. "Now, may I have you sign 
on the bottom row please sir..."

Starbuck signed.

"Thank you sir." The older man put the piece of paper back into 
the drawer, pushed his chair back and walked to the shelves 
containing all kinds of equipment.

"We have the camera right here. I hope you have a memorable 
ceremony and... 
Congratulations!"

"Thank you." Starbuck smiled and took the box where the camera 
was. The two men shook hands.

"Oh, as you go, sir..." The man smiled at Starbuck who was 
already walking towards the exit. "Could you please ask the 
gentleman in the waiting room to come into my office..."

"Sure." Starbuck grinned before opening the door and walking out. 
He eyed around the waiting room and noticed a lad in his late 
twenties or early thirties with blonde, cropped hair and huge 
earrings, strolling aimlessly here and there looking bored.

"The guy wants to see you." Starbuck nodded and pointed over his 
shoulder. The lad raised his eyes and started towards the office 
door Starbuck had left open.

"Mr. Kent..." The manager smiled and watched the boy walking in. 
"Why don't you take a seat..."

"Thanks." The lad sat down opposite the older man, blowing a 
bubble with this chewing gum and bursting it.

"So, errr, Kent. What do you say we get right to the point..." 
The manager dragged his chair closer to the desk, eyeing the lad 
pleasantly.

"Fine by me." Kent eyed the manager, then the paintings on the 
wall, chewing his gum.

"So, you are saying that your music is non-psychedelic?" The 
manager started. "Would you..."

"Psychedelia is feldercarb!" Kent frowned. "It's so completely 
out! Why would I make music that has no future..."

"What kind of music do you make then?" The older man's maneuvers 
were impeccable and  businesslike. "Would you mind giving me a 
little description..."

"My music is on the PULSE!" Kent got so excited his earrings 
started jingling. "That means mod-ish, alternative, melancholy 
tunes with a well-hidden hint of anarchy..."

"Really." The older man pressed his palms together and smiled 
pleasantly. "About this anarchy thing...”

"So are you going to start managing my affairs or not?" Kent cut 
in, his challenging gaze on the older, distinguished looking man. 
"I haven't got all day. I've got a band rehearsal later."

"I'm thinking about it..." The manager was swaying in his chair, 
his eyes on Kent. "It depends on whether you are willing to work 
hard for your possible success..."

"You bet!" Kent grinned. "I've already signed autographs in 
advance on couple of hundreds of pieces of paper. Good thinking 
eh?"

The older man's eyes lingered on Kent for a long time. Yes, he 
wanted to stay in the managing business rather than selling and 
renting video cameras on the Comptel ship, and now that he had 
lost his previous act he needed another one. But...

The manager frowned in his mind. He sure as hell didn't want 
another Dimstar! He had to consider his options carefully...

"Okay." Harry Clifford said finally, still eyeing Kent. "From 
this point on we have a management deal. I have some papers here 
for you to sign..."

"Great." Kent stared at Harry Clifford's eyes amazed. He could 
swear they were turning paler...! Naah! It must be the ambrosa...

Kent accepted the pen Harry Clifford was handing over to him and 
took the first step towards his fabulous future...

* * *

"Sheba, you'll never guess what has happened!" Rigel rushed to 
the door immediately when she heard the key turning in the lock. 
There was such a huge, madly excited grin on her face that for a 
little moment Sheba thought she had entered the wrong quarters.

"What is it?"

"I found the perfect father for our child." Rigel rejoiced, 
getting Sheba excited too, impatient to hear the name of the man.

There was a small pause as Rigel's grinning eyes were lingering 
on Sheba, prolonging the suspense of the moment until Sheba 
couldn't take it any more.

"WHO??" She jumped on Rigel, wanting to shake the woman. Rigel 
laughed.

"Calm down or I won't tell you anything."

"Are you pregnant already?" Sheba's eyes lingered on Rigel's 
belly.

"Of course not!" Rigel snorted. "Do you want to hear the name of 
the father to be or not..."

"YES!" Sheba flamed, gazing at Rigel with impatient intensity, 
making Rigel want to tease her even more but she didn't.

"Okay. He's the most beautiful person in the entire fleet." Rigel 
started. "He's got no criminal record, his behavior is always 
impeccable and as far as I know, there's nothing wrong with his 
intelligence either. But the most important thing is his beauty. 
How can we possibly go wrong with a father like that..."

"WHO IS IT?!" Sheba's face was turning red.

"Aeon." Rigel smirked. "There's just one problem..."

"What??"

"He refuses to help us." Rigel smiled. Sheba stared at her, 
disappointed.

"Frack. That's it then..."

"No, not really..." Rigel's smile was slowly turning into a wide 
grin. Sheba couldn't understand what there was to grin about.

"Are you planning on trying to change the man's mind." She 
speculated. "I don't think..."

"He says there is no way he will reconsider." Rigel replied. "He 
was very definitive in not wanting to donate any sperm. In fact, 
he went almost crazy when I asked, and he refused to tell us 
why..."

"Well, I guess that choice is definitely out of the question 
then." Sheba sighed. "That leaves us with..."

"Hold on darling." Rigel's grin was wider than ever. "I didn't 
say Aeon was no longer an option..."

"Then, what are you saying?" Sheba's suspicions arose. "Oh no, 
please don't tell me you..."

"We doped him..."

"WHAT!"

Rigel's grin was from one ear to another. "Doctor Wilker gave him 
a little sedative shot..."

"You've got to be kidding!"

"Nope." Rigel beamed. "And when Aeon was unconscious, doctor 
Wilker stole some of his sperm using a surgeon's syringe. It 
didn't even leave a mark. We have a nice set of sperm cells 
waiting for us in the life center freezer..."

"Frack!" Sheba grinned.

"They'll last active for about a centar so one of them has to be 
fertilized in less time than that..."

"What are we waiting for then! Sheba took the jacket she had just 
thrown on the back of the couch and started towards the door. 
"Let's get to the life center..."

Something popped into Sheba's mind and she turned.

"We have to decide which one of us is going to be the bearer..."

"No we don't." Rigel smiled. "I had a conversation with Wilker 
about this and he told me that there is an alternative that we 
both can be the mom..."

"How?" Sheba didn't quite believe this.

"We both donate an ovum which, using doctor Wilker's modern 
technology, can be turned into one complex and fertilized with 
one sperm cell..."

"Really?"

"Then the fertilized complex will be placed in doctor Wilker's 
artificial, drone womb which has the ability to process the 
development of a human baby in 2600 point 7 times alpha speed..."

"Oh my god..." Sheba raised one eyebrow.

"...Which means that we can have a baby in a centar without 
either of us having to carry it around for nine months or go 
through the horrors of giving birth to it..." Rigel smiled. 
"...And it will really be OUR baby. Developed from the both of 
us!"

"This is so unbelievable." Sheba exulted. "But what if Aeon finds 
out that it's his..."

"He won't." Rigel was sure of it. "And if he does, well, there's 
nothing he can do about it then. The baby already exists..."

"...And it will be the most beautiful baby in the whole 
universe." Sheba took Rigel's hand. "Come. I can't hardly 
wait..."

* * *

Damn it! The tape was much too tightly tied for Apollo to be able 
to move an inch and every time he tried, it carved into his skin, 
hurting like hell. Perhaps it would be wiser to stop struggling 
and concentrate on the brainwork.

Apollo had no idea how to escape from this feldercarbish 
situation. The smell of the rotting faces was sickening and the 
sight of the artificial ones made Apollo otherwise nauseous.

Apollo eyed around the room, trying to ignore the faces. There 
was nothing on the walls that suggested they would be any help in 
getting Apollo free. On the east wall there was a window but 
Apollo guessed it would be kind of hopeless to expect someone to 
be out there repairing the screws of the outer side of the 
Galactica in his G-suit and just happening to glance through the 
window into Omega's quarters. Frack. Where were all the 
technicians when you most needed them.

Just like Ville had, Apollo too spotted hatches leading to the 
ventilation pipes but how in the names of Sagans would he be ever 
able to reach them lying on the bed, completely tied up. Apollo 
sighed. Damn it, there had to be a way. He just couldn't think of 
any.

Apollo had no idea for how long Omega's duty shift would last but 
he suspected that he might have at least another two centars 
until that crazy daggit came back. Apollo's mind lingered to 
Athena and there was a sting in his heart. Quickly Apollo forced 
any thought of his sister out of his mind or he couldn't have 
been able to concentrate on his own situation. Apollo closed his 
eyes and tried to think.

He had left his laser gun in the quarters, as well as his 
communicator and steel-toed army boots. He hadn't considered it 
important at all to take along his multipurpose knife set or the 
emergency whistle. Apollo frowned. OBVIOUSLY he had left his 
brains in the quarters too. How else could it be explained that 
he, a colonial hero and a wet dream for all men aboard, had been 
kidnapped in the middle of the day-cycle on a fully-manned 
battlestar!

Apollo let his eyes linger around the room once more. There had 
to be a way...

* * *

"Starbuck, I'm glad I caught you!" Boomer's voice panted from the 
communicator. "I've been trying to reach you for half a centar! 
Where have you been?!"

"Oh, my communicator must have been turned off." Starbuck was 
sitting in the shuttle, on his way back to the Galactica. "So, 
what's on your mind buddy."

"I got a call from Sheba half a centar ago. Don't ask me what's 
going on but she wants... No, she INSISTS that we get our butts 
to the life center like YESTERDAY! She says she's got news that 
are going to blow our minds..."

"She didn't give you any clue what it might be about." Starbuck 
asked. "I really don't have much time..."

"Don't worry about the bachelor party." Boomer grinned. There was 
no way Starbuck would've ever guessed Boomer's excitement to be 
completely fake. Underneath all that cheerfulness, Boomer was 
devastated about the fact that Starbuck was getting sealed. "It's 
all organized. We just have to wait for Apollo's duty shift to 
end."

"Great." Starbuck felt tingles in his stomach. Tonight was going 
to be great. The rest of his life was going to be great... "So 
what's this thing about Sheba?"

"As I said, she didn't tell me but I think I have an idea..."

"What?" Starbuck was curious.

"No, I'm not going to tell you about it now." Boomer smirked. 
"Just meet me in the landing bay in... What time does your 
shuttle land?"

"In five centons."

"Good. I'll meet you in the bay in five centons." Boomer ended 
the call.

Starbuck's gaze lingered on the stars outside, his mind wondering 
what his friends had gotten themselves into this time...

* * *

Having been trapped in this extremely uncomfortable position, 
Apollo's limbs were becoming numb. He would have to act now or 
soon he wouldn't be able to.

Slowly, trying not to think about the pain that struck through 
his body every time he tried to move, Apollo started inching his 
way towards the edge of the bed. God it was difficult to do with 
hands tied at the back, legs tied together and an old sock in the 
mouth, choking him with every movement. Oh, but Apollo wouldn't 
have made it to being a captain being a quitter. Determinedly he 
kept on fighting, clenching his teeth together, believing in 
himself...

The edge of the bed was getting nearer and nearer. If Apollo only 
could swing his legs over the edge first and place his feet on 
the floor while taking support on the bedside with the back of 
his knees (HUH?), he might be able to coil his upper body off the 
bed and if lucky, end up on a standing position. And if not, 
well...

A little more...

Apollo grimaced. The tape had already made the skin on his wrists 
bleed. The edge of the bed seemed to be parsecs away and it 
didn't really make things easier that Apollo couldn't even see 
where he was going. The blanket on the bed had gotten stuck on 
Apollo's head and the more he moved, the tighter the blanket 
stuck. The worst thing was that it smelled like salami...

Perhaps this was a very bad idea indeed. Apollo realized he could 
be moving around on the bed in circles, the whole time remaining 
in the middle of it with no hope of getting to the edge...

He was just about to quit the inching and concentrate on removing 
the blanket from over his face instead when the bed suddenly 
vanished and Apollo thudded onto the floor, grimacing as his tail 
bone was the one to his the ground first.
Someone was guffawing in the doorway.

"I told you it would be foolish to try to escape." Omega wiped 
the tears of laughter from his eyes. "Now, see what you've done 
to yourself and my bed, you naughty little boy. Now I have to 
make my bed all over again...”

"mmmmmpfhhh..."

"Stop mmmpfhhh-ing!" Omega walked to Apollo and removed the 
blanket from his face.

Apollo stared up at Omega, coughing like mad for the sock now 
almost down his throat and looking like a troll since his hair 
was so electric it kept sticking right up. Omega laughed.

Apollo sure as hell didn't.

"If you promise to behave reasonably." Omega's amused eyes were 
on Appy. "I will remove the gag."

Apollo corrected the expression on his face from murderously 
enraged to normally angry and hoped that he now looked reasonable 
enough.

Omega was smiling at him. "I think we're going to have a lot of 
fun tonight..."

* * *

"So, ladies." Starbuck grinned as he and Boomer stepped through 
the doorway. "What is all this excitement about?"

"Patience Bucky." Sheba turned towards the two men. "Fussing 
about won't get you anywhere."

"Officers." Wilker turned too, smiling his greetings at Boomer 
and Starbuck as they were approaching. "You came just in time..."

"It's just about to happen." Rigel grinned, her eyes shining.

"What is?" Starbuck's eyes lingered from one person to another.

"Look." Sheba pointed at the weirdest thing Starbuck had ever 
seen in his life. 

"What the hell is that?"

"It's a drone womb." Sheba explained. "It's something that doctor 
Wilker built..."

"Congratulations." Starbuck glanced at Wilker, one eyebrow 
arched.

"Look closer Starbuck." Sheba urged, excited. "Look what's 
inside..."

Starbuck and Boomer leaned closer to the drone womb, Boomer 
already having a pretty good idea what this was all about, 
Starbuck ready to draw back like a laser if something suspicious 
arose.

The two men narrowed their eyes to see through the liquid inside 
the strange cone. There was something floating in that liquid. 
Something that moved... 

Boomer gasped.

"A baby!"

"How did that happen!?!" Starbuck looked up, disgusted.

"Miracles of modern technology." Doctor Wilker was beaming like 
the proud father. "I extracted ovals from both Sheba and Rigel, 
turned them into one complex and inseminated it with the sperm of 
the donator..."

"Which... Oh my god. Don't tell me it's you." Starbuck stared at 
Wilker.

"No, no." Wilker patted Starbuck's shoulder. "We have sperm from 
a very special person..."

Starbuck turned completely pale. "Oh no..."

"NO!" Sheba laughed. It's not you! It's..."

"Apollo..." Starbuck was even whiter.

"Cut the felgercarb Starbuck and listen." Rigel got impatient. 
"We didn't take sperm from any of you guys. We found this 
extremely perfect being..."

"It's Aeon." Sheba revealed before Rigel did. "He just doesn't 
know it himself and we hope to keep it that way."

"Oh please..." Boomer rolled his eyes.

Wilker leaned closer to the drone womb to take yet another look 
at the situation with the baby. It seemed to be becoming ripe any 
micron now. There were some new things developing...

Wilker looked up. "It's a boy."

Cheers in the room.

"He's going to be the most beautiful thing ever seen." Rigel 
danced around. "With a donator like Aeon..."

"He's going to be perfect." Sheba rejoiced.

"What are you going to call him?" Boomer's eyes lingered on the 
womb.

"We don't know yet." This was the first time Rigel came to think 
about that. 

"Probably Rigel Junior."

"Hell no!" Sheba's hackles shot up. "He's going to be Sheba 
Sharia..."

"It's a boy Sheba!" Starbuck cleared his throat.

"That's why it's going to be Rigel Junior." Rigel eyed Sheba 
victoriously. "No one can tell whether Rigel's a girl's name or a 
boy's..."

"May I suggest something." Wilker forefinger was pointing up. 
"Doctor Salik's second name was Esmeraldo. I was always jealous 
of that name...”

"Why don't you just call him Starbuck the Second and get it over 
with..."

"I think the water just broke..." Wilker, who had been standing 
in front of the drone womb was soaking wet. "The parturition 
seems to be about to begin..."

Excited, chattering like lunatics they all gathered around the 
drone womb.

"Which one of us is going to deliver the baby." Sheba looked 
around.

"Don't look at me!" Starbuck backed horrified. "I'll throw up..."

"The baby doesn't need to be delivered." Wilker gestured with his 
hands to calm everyone down. "The womb does it itself. The baby 
will pop out in just a couple of centons..."

"Pop out?" Starbuck turned to look at Wilker. "Wouldn't it be 
advisable if we all moved backwards a little..."

"It's not going to shoot out of the womb Starbuck." Wilker sighed 
impatiently. “It's just going to... pop!"

Starbuck turned to look at the womb again. "Err, excuse me doctor 
but... Where is it going to pop out from. This thing doesn't seem 
to have that...thing..."

"There's a hole on the left hand side." Wilker explained. "You'll 
see it if you take a close look..."

"No thanks." Starbuck smiled. "I think I'll go to the officers' 
club to wait for this miracle to be over..."

"Too late!" Rigel screamed. "It's coming!!"

Doctor Wilker extended his hands, prepared to catch the baby. 
Starbuck had already moved to the other side of the life center. 
All the others stared at the hole on the left side of the drone 
intensely...waiting...

Nothing happened.

"What's taking it so long." Rigel frowned.

"I think it's stuck" Wilker replied thoughtfully. "It might need 
cesarean operation..."

Wilker reached out and took a pair of surgeon's scissors from a 
nearby table.

"Everybody step back." He instructed as he leaned over the drone 
womb to make a careful cut on the soft, slimy surface and it 
suddenly opened up like a flower.

Wilker rolled up his sleeves and put his hands into the drone 
womb to pick up the baby. He lifted it up to be admired by 
everyone in the room, even the really sick people further away in 
the D-section of the life center. Sheba and Rigel prepared to lay 
their eyes on the most beautiful thing in the universe.

"Oh my god..." Wilker whispered in shock as he lowered the baby 
so everyone around it could see it's face.

Sheba turned pale as snow as she saw the thing. Rigel started 
fumbling for something to take support on. Horrified, Wilker 
looked up at Boomer who had fallen completely speechless.

The baby wasn't just ugly.

It was a monster.

* * *

Omega eyed Apollo for a long time before leaning forward and 
ripping off the tape from covering his mouth.

Immediately Apollo spitted the sock out, coughing and cursing 
afterwards.

"Tastes like chicken." Omega smirked. Apollo gave him a glare and 
kept coughing.

Omega drew his laser gun from under his jacket and pointed it at 
Apollo.

"I have some great plans for us tonight." The older man beamed. 
"That's why I asked commander Adama if I could finish my duty 
shift a little earlier today..."

Apollo's eyes were on Omega.

"Not that I told him that I have nice plans." Omega grinned. "I 
came up with a terrible headache for having worked too hard in 
the last few days. Adama was very sympathetic."

"Sure he was." Apollo snorted.

"He was very very angry at you for not having shown up." Omega 
kept smirking. "I told him that I searched all over for you 
but..."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Before I returned to the bridge, I went to fetch Tigh who was 
indeed sad to hear about Athena's death..."

"Athena." Apollo whispered, not having meant to say anything, the 
name had just lingered to his lips.

"I left Adama and Tigh to comfort each other and here I am now." 
Omega smiled. "Ready to play with you..."

"I'm thrilled." Apollo mumbled. "And what games do you have in 
mind... No, let me guess. You're going to cut me into little 
pieces, peel my face off, gouge my eyes out, dance hula-hula 
around my shattered body... all that damn felgercarb the readers 
are getting so bored about."

Omega eyed Apollo, almost amused.

"That..." He smiled. "I'll save for later. That's not want I 
meant by playing with you. The cutting to pieces, peeling the 
face off, dancing hula-hula and all the rest of that stuff is 
called fulfillment. When I talk about playing I really mean that. 
Quite literally..."

Omega walked to a closet door and turned to grin at Apollo.

"Close your eyes..."

"What?"

"Close your eyes." Omega gestured with his laser gun. "I'll tell 
you when to open them again..."

Apollo did as he was told. He heard a squeak as the closet door 
was opened and then some jingling noises and a little groaning 
suggesting Omega was lifting something heavy.

There was a loud thump as the... whatever it was... was placed on 
the floor. Apollo couldn't wait any longer. He opened his eyes 
and saw a huge cardboard 
box.

Omega was smiling.

"May I introduce to you my box of treasures." He beamed.

Apollo watched with curiosity as Omega opened the lid of the box, 
revealing... 

Apollo couldn't believe this!  The box was full of toys. All 
kinds of toys, from plastic baby ones to complex building series 
and furry animals. Not to mention...

"These are my favorite!" Omega picked up a handful of Barbies and 
Kens. (Legendary toys, manufactured even before the dinosaurs.) 
"These are what we're gonna play with."

"Oh no." Apollo frowned. "Don't you have any G.I. Joes..."

"They don't make those on the Galactica." Omega smiled. 
"Unfortunately."

Apollo was sure he was on sleep cycle.

"I'm going to untie you now." Omega started towards Apollo. 
"Don't start getting any crazy ideas about escaping. I'll still 
be holding onto my laser gun and I won't be afraid to shoot..."

"Who's gonna play with your toys if you shoot me..." Apollo felt 
Omega ripping 
off the tape from his wrists.

"Shut up." Omega clenched his teeth. The tape was harder to 
remove than he had thought.

Apollo winced.

"And it's no use trying to shout and scream either." Omega 
continued. "I have triple de-tex walls installed. "No one will 
hear you..."

"I won't shout." Apollo mumbled, already considering screaming 
his lungs out. "Just, keep that sock away from my mouth..."

Omega finished ripping the tape off. He took a hold of Apollo by 
under his arm and pulled him up.

"Here. We can sit on the bed as we play. Now, hold still as I go 
and fetch the Barbies and all the accessories. You'll be amazed 
by how much great stuff I've got..."

Apollo watched Omega returning to the box. He noticed that Omega 
hadn't let go of that laser gun for even a micron. Apollo knew 
very well that as long as Omega had that gun he would have no 
chance.

Damn it! Why the frack did they always have to get into these 
things...

* * *

The first thing he would have to do is find a gun.

Lomas kept avoiding all the busy lounges and corridors, knowing 
very well that although he wasn't a criminal and being chased, 
someone might find a way to prevent him from doing what was 
necessary... No...doing what was compulsory. Lomas would have to 
kill Starbuck for Astral's sake. Starbuck was the reason why the 
world had turned dark and empty.

'No, you can't stay in my quarters. You're insane...'

Lomas clenched his teeth together, seeing Starbuck's face... the 
damn smirk... in front of his eyes as he walked.

'There's water in the turboflush.'

That bastard...

Determinedly Lomas kept on walking towards Starbuck's quarters. 
But first he would have to find a gun.

Lomas wasn't one bit worried about the aftermath. There was 
nothing to be worried about. Everything right now was pain, Lomas 
would be happy to give it all up. But not before he had gotten 
his revenge for Astral. Only after that it would be time for him 
to follow the angel into heavens. To give up everything 
meaningless and die the way Astral had died. Fall in amongst the 
stars...

Where the heck would he get the gun. Lomas wouldn't exactly be 
welcomed into the weapon storage rooms with open arms. Lomas 
thought for a moment.

Perhaps he should knock down some ignorant passer-by and steal 
his... Hey, hold on a centon... Lomas stopped and took another 
look around, all of a sudden realizing he was standing in front 
of the door to Starbuck's and Apollo's quarters. Frack, he had 
been so lost in his thoughts that he had lost track of time and 
space. No time to knock down passers-by now. Then what? Lomas' 
mind was working feverishly.

He would definitely need a gun. Killing Starbuck with bare hands 
wasn't really an option. Lomas wouldn't have the strength, no 
matter how enraged he was.

Hey, he could steal Starbuck's gun... Pretend to pay a brotherly 
visit, be in need of comforting after losing such a dear 
friend...

Lomas knocked and waited. He knocked again...

Starbuck wasn't there.

Okay...

Then Lomas would have to wait.

Lomas looked up and down the hallway and noticed a big enough 
niche in the wall. He walked to it and withdrew into the shadows 
to wait for Starbuck's return.

* * *

Apollo was sitting on the bed, opposite from Omega, glaring at 
the daggit and planning his escapade every time Omega's eyes 
lingered away from him.

"Look! This one's a real beauty!" Omega was excited as hell. He 
picked up a Barbie with bright red hair and a black velvet 
evening gown and showed it to Apollo. "I call her Denisa."

"Pretty." Apollo admitted. Omega was looking at him, smiling.

"Come on. Take your pick. Which one of these beauties do you 
wanna play with?"

Apollo eyed the collection of dolls on the bed.

There were blondes, brunettes, black-haired ones, redheads, 
short-haired ones, long-haired ones, ridiculously long-haired 
ones. Evening gowns, Sealing gowns, leather outfits, denim 
outfits, shoes, boots, hand bags, hair brushes...

Apollo's eyes lingered to the pink sports landram and the pale 
yellow star fighters. The Capricorn looked like Muffit with a 
horn and was wearing a fake-diamond-ornated blanket.

The daggit was nauseatingly furry, ridiculously big-eyed, and had 
its own pink drinking cup and box.

The Kens were the worst. Short-haired ones, long-haired ones, 
ridiculously long-haired ones... Kens with mustaches, Kens with 
goatees, chest hair and hairless chests. Uniformed Kens, naked 
Kens...

Apollo looked up at Omega. "I'll take the Barbie with the leather 
outfit."

"No. That's mine." Omega quickly grabbed it. "You can take the 
blonde one with big tits."

"They all have big tits." Apollo eyed the Barbies in front of 
him. "Just, look at them for Sagan's sake! No wonder most men 
turn gay!"

"What are you babbling about." Omega got impatient.

"Look at them!" Apollo picked up the doll nearest to him and eyed 
it. "These women look just like aliens! No real human being is 
formed like this!!"

"Cut the crap Apollo and let's play..."

"Just imagine that this kind of form is usually the very first 
glimpse boys get of a woman body. This... alien form!..."

"Apollo..."

"And already in kindergarten we were taught that most aliens are 
evil..."

"If you don't shut up now I'm going to shoot you." Omega picked 
up the laser gun that had been placed on the bed next to him.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry..." Apollo mumbled. "Give me that blonde. 
I'll play with it."

“Good." Omega's smile was wide as he saw Apollo reaching out and 
picking up 
'Bridget'.

"How do you play with these things?..." Apollo eyed the doll. 
Feeling totally idiotic he placed it on the bed and pretended 
that it was walking in a forest.

"What a nice day it is today." Apollo twittered. "I think I'll go 
and pick some parbon berries..."

"NOT LIKE THAT!! NO ONE PLAYS LIKE THAT!!"

Apollo looked up at Omega, irritated. "Well, how do adult people 
play with Barbies then?"

"Just use your imagination!" Omega frowned. "Just like kids do!"

"I was using my imagination..."

"Felgercarb! No one plays games with Barbies going to pick parbon 
berries."

"Not even children?"

"Especially not children!"

"This is crazy..."

"I'll tell you how we're gonna play." Omega was smiling again. He 
pointed at the Barbie Apollo was holding. "Let's make Bridget the 
bitch. A real witch who everybody is jealous of because she has 
all the best clothes, all the best accessories, the best looking 
Ken..."

Omega's eyes lingered on the Kens. He picked up the one with a 
new-romantic hairstyle, leather trousers, make-up and a flouncy 
shirt. 

"Here, you take 'Ultravox'..."

"That thing is not going out with my Bridget..."

"Okay. Let's play that Ultravox is a maniac rapist and stalks 
Bridget all over the place..."

"Why don't you play with Ultravox then." Apollo sneered. "You two 
are so alike..."

Omega reached out for the laser gun. "Watch your mouth or I'm 
gonna shoot you."

Apollo glared at the older man. "Shoot me, huh? Well, why don't 
you get on with it! You're going to kill me later anyway so why 
the hell not now!?"

"If I kill you now it won't be any fun!"

"Hell, I don't even know why I'm consenting to staying in this 
room. Give me one good reason why I don't get up and start 
walking to the door. You're gonna kill me anyway so what's the 
difference..."

"Because if you die now, you won't find out whether Ultravox gets 
lucky or not..."

Apollo couldn't help it, he laughed. "Okay. Let's get the action 
going. I play with Bridget and Ultravox, you're going to play 
with...?"

"I'll take Denisa and Ivan." Omega grinned and picked up a Ken 
with long, black hair and a hippy shirt. Then he hesitated as his 
eyes lingered to a Ken with blond hair and a wild grin. "In fact, 
I think I'll take Denisa, Ivan and Luffe! They're gonna make a 
nice, tormented threesome...

From the corner of his eye, Apollo noticed that the laser gun had 
once again been placed on the bed beside Omega.

An idea starting to form in his head...

* * *

Rigel couldn't stop staring at the horrifying face of the newborn 
boy. Sheba on the other hand couldn't take one more look or she 
would have freaked out. How in the frack was this possible with 
Aeon as the father...

Intrigued by the sudden change in the atmosphere, Starbuck had 
been lured back to the circle of people standing around the drone 
womb.

The thing he now saw in Wilker's arms had made him gasp. "What is 
that?"

Nobody bothered to answer.

"Sheeesh, it looks worse than the drone womb..."

"Shut up Starbuck." Boomer gave him a glare.

"Why does it look like that?" Rigel couldn't understand. "Oh 
Wilker. Don't tell me you got the sperm samples mixed up..."

There was a little passing breeze in the air as the sick bay 
doors opened and a figure of a man stepped in. He walked to the 
circle of others and looked at the face of his son. Aeon sighed.

"Why didn't you listen to me you fools! Didn't I make it very 
clear that I didn't want any of my sperm taken..."

"Aeon!" Sheba turned, startled. The others looked up too.

"How... how did you find out about this..." Rigel's eyes were 
wide. "We didn't tell anyone..."

"You left a mark on my..."

"Shhh!" Wilker hissed. "Don't say it. We've got under-aged 
children in the room..." There was a little pause as Wilker came 
to think of something. "Hold on a centon. We didn't leave any 
mark, I checked."

Aeon's eyes lingered slowly over to Wilker. Starbuck had a hard 
time not smirking.

"Really?" Aeon raised one eyebrow. "Well there was one when I 
woke up this morning..."

"But I know I didn't leave a mark." Wilker insisted. "I can swear 
I didn't leave a mark..."

"SHUT UP!" Rigel lost her nerves. "We have a situation here! No 
one is interested in hearing about the mark on Aeon's..."

"Shhhhh!" Starbuck hissed, imitating Wilker, amused as frack. 
"We've got under-aged children in the room..."

Rigel gave Starbuck a glare of a lifetime. "Okay. Who's gonna 
explain why this baby boy turned out to look like one of the 
borays instead of a sweet prince like his father..."

"I have no idea." Wilker shrugged. His questioning gaze lingered 
on the others and stopped on Aeon. "Can you explain this?"

"Yes, I can." Aeon smiled darkly. Everyone leaned a little 
forward so as not to 
miss a word of Aeon's upcoming story. "But I'm not going to. It 
doesn't matter."

"Oh come on!" Starbuck frowned. "You can't leave it like this..."

"Of course I can." Aeon saw the pleading look in Starbuck's eyes. 
"Okay, I'll give you the major details."

Starbuck smiled gratefully.

"My father once told me everyone has a dark side and a good 
side." Aeon explained. "Not just mentally but physically too."

"I don't see mine." Starbuck grinned.

The others ignored him, waiting for Aeon to continue.

"With most people the good and the dark are mixed to make you 
imperfect. When you look at yourself you see what you are." Aeon 
paused. "But in my case..."

"You only have the good side." Starbuck eyed the man. "We must be 
brothers..."

Boomer poked Starbuck in the ribs to shut him up.

"No." Aeon smiled. "I have the ugliness in me, but it is 
hidden..."

"So that's it!" Sheba already knew what was to come. She had read 
her biology at the academy. "Your hidden qualities might come out 
visible in the next generations. Just like skin colour, or a 
sickness, or hair colour or whatever..."

"Yes." Aeon smiled. "And in this case..."

"Your sibling turned out to be just the opposite of you." Wilker 
finished the sentence. "The beauty is the hidden quality, the 
ugliness is the only thing visible..."

"Poor kid." Starbuck sighed sympathetically.

"I have a mirror that shows me purely my dark side when I look in 
it." Aeon said quietly, his eyes then lingering to the baby in 
Wilker's arms. "That boy looks exactly like the reflection in 
that mirror..."

There was a moments silence.

"Okay. What are we going to do with him`" Rigel spoke first, 
referring to the baby. "As sad as it sounds, it is an 
indisputable fact that with a face like that, the boy will never 
be accepted into our communities. No matter how advanced we claim 
to be, we are still narrow-minded and unaccepting fools which we 
will always be, only because it's human. We are all born with 
that despicable darkness in our minds."

"Do you have any idea how horrible you sound Rigel." Starbuck 
stared at the woman. "Your words..."

"I'm not really talking about racism or that kind of stuff which 
is purely idiocy..."

"I still can't believe what I'm hearing." Starbuck swallowed. 
"You are claiming that us human beings are fiends..."

"But we are." Rigel smiled sadly. "Just think about what I'm 
saying. Look at that boy. He will always be treated differently. 
He will unavoidably suffer from being ugly..."

"Rigel is right." Sheba spoke. "Look around you. There will 
always be requirements and demands on what you should be like. 
Even the smallest things like your hair or your weight or..."

"I get the point." Starbuck mumbled, seeing those horrible things 
in himself too no matter how much he would've wanted not to.

Boomer spoke up. "Yes, It's true. We all... although most of us 
are trying not to, we do demand ridiculous things from others..." 
There was a pause. Boomer's expression was dark. "...But the 
biggest demands, those most unachievable levels, those I set for 
myself. And when I  realize I can't possibly live up to those 
expectations, no matter how much I keep telling myself it's 
stupid, I grow not to accept me as I am..." Boomer's eyes 
lingered to the monstrous baby. "...And if I have it hard, think 
about..."

"Yeah, think about how the baby'll have it..." Sheba cut in. 
"He's not just going to have a hard time trying to accept 
himself, he'll be in hell!"

"Then again, maybe not." Starbuck was thinking aloud. "Maybe 
it'll grow up to be extremely open-minded and..."

"I have a suggestion." Rigel's eyes were on the little boy. "This 
will sound terrible but perhaps it'll turn out to be the best 
choice..."

"What?" Boomer looked at Rigel.

"The baby will be better off if..."

"NO!"

"We don't have to kill it. We can just send it into space in some 
kind of an apparatus that contains oxygen..."

"A slow death." Starbuck stared at Rigel with one brow arched. 
"How kind of you..."

"The baby might have a chance to be rescued by some beings that 
are better than humans. His life might turn out happy..."

Silence again. Everyone knew that in the end there really would 
be no better choice but no one wanted to say it aloud to make it 
real.

Not until Wilker did.

"I can make a space-proof cradle that can help the baby survive 
for at least two sectons..."

"Rigel Junior is gonna starve to death..."

"No if I make that cradle womb-like so it can feed the baby..."

"Enough!" Starbuck had to have a break for a fumarello. "Do what 
you guys see fit. I'm outta here..."

"Will you come to the launching bay with us to see the baby off?" 
Wilker asked, looking at Starbuck.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." Starbuck replied 
sarcastically on his way to the sick bay exit. "Just give me a 
call on my communicator when you're ready..."

"Ummm, if you don't mind I'll be on my way too..." Aeon smiled 
and nodded politely before turning to follow Starbuck. "I have 
nothing more to do with this..."

"You are not coming to see your son off?" Wilker was amazed.

"It's not my son." Aeon smiled coldly. "It's just a little sperm 
cell you stole from me..."

All eyes followed Aeon leaving.

Rigel Junior puked on Wilker's white doctor's cape.

* * *

"You can't play at all!" Omega frowned. "You have no imagination 
and your choices of outfits suck! Bridget wouldn't wear college 
shirts and trainers..."

"Shut up and concentrate on the playing." Apollo was totally 
caught in this now. The idea of escaping was the furthest thing 
on his mind at that very moment. "Okay, here comes Ultravox now, 
all covered in blood after helping deliver the filly of the 
Capricorn..."

"You've made Ultravox much too nice." Omega glared at the Ken in 
Apollo's hand. "He should be a serial rapist and..."

"Shut up!

"What an exhausting day." Ultravox wipes his forehead. "I wonder 
what Bridget has been up to. Perhaps when I get home there'll be 
a bunch of daggit puppies waiting for me..."

Ultravox moves in little bounces to the napkin spread on the bed. 
"This is the hallway!" Apollo pointed out.

"Bridget! Can you bring me a set of clean clothes please..."

"I can't take this!" Omega was getting more and more furious. "If 
you're not going to play properly I'll shoot you right now."

"Tell me what you want me to do!" Apollo glared up at Omega.

"Just... stop being a pussy and start bringing some action into 
your game!"

"Show me!"
Omega sighed consentingly. "Okay. Watch this: Luffe has just 
robbed the bank and is now eyeing the landrams, trying to decide 
which one of them he's going to steal..."

"There's not much choice." Apollo pointed out. "There's only the 
pink landram..."

"Shut the frack up. Okay... Here comes Ivan. He's just been out 
shopping and spots Luffe with the big bag of money. Ivan has an 
idea..."

"There's no action in that!" Apollo raised one brow. Omega gave 
him a glare.

"Ivan pulls out his weapon and shoots Luffe, who doesn't die but 
in fact turns out to be solium-man with a huge tanker..."

"I don't see any tanker amongst your toys..." Apollo paused as he 
saw the look Omega gave him. "Okay, sorry. Go on..."

"Ivan ducks behind a wall and bumps into Ultravox who is wiping 
blood off his hands after killing Helena..."

"Who's Helena?" Apollo eyed the dolls. Omega picks up a Barbie 
with curly hair and roller skates and hits it against the wall. 
"There, now she's dead..."

"Do you have any weapons Ultravox?"

"No. I use my hands. They're strong enough."

"Can you sneak behind Luffe and knock him unconscious and then 
destroy his tanker."

"Sure." Ultravox secretly bounces behind the pink landram.

"This is stupid!"

"Shut up!"

"What's going on here?" This is the policeman. "I'm afraid I have 
to confiscate all your weapons for causing disturbance in a 
public area..."

A Ken with a mustache attacks the policeman. Policeman loses his 
head as it drops on the bed.

"Can't we play something else." Apollo was bored now. "This is 
just like 'Die Hard'..."

"Hey, I like 'Die Hard'..." Omega forgot about the policeman's 
head and eyed Apollo. "What do you want to play then? 'Muriel's 
sealing..."

"How about 'Priscilla, the queen of the desert..."

"My Kens are not drag queens!..."

"Hey, I know!" Apollo's forefinger popped up. "Why don't we play 
ourselves. I mean, Ultravox can be me and Luffe can be you..."

"That's boring..."

"'Xanadu' then..."

"Hell no!"

"Saturday night-cycle fever..."

"Only if I can be the fabulous dancer..."

"No way!" Apollo pouted.

"We're not gonna play that then."

"What about..." Apollo paused for a micron, suddenly realizing 
what they were doing. His eyes lingered to the laser gun still 
placed next to Omega.

Catching omega completely off guard Apollo took a dive towards 
the gun, reaching out for it, ready to grab it like a sandwich. 
There was a little popping sound as the policeman's head dropped 
off the bed.

Omega screamed like a wild animal. He jumped on Apollo's back, 
grimacing and fighting like frack to keep Apollo from getting to 
that gun. Omega was weaker, Apollo succeeded in shoving the man 
off him and caught a hold of the handle of the laser pistol. In a 
blink of an eye Apollo rolled over and pointed the pipe of the 
pistol straight at Omega's face.

Omega froze, his mind working like a knife. Angrily, he stared at 
the pipe of the gun, his eyes occasionally lingering to Apollo.

That moment seemed to last for centars.

"Who's gonna be the fabulous dancer now, eh?" Apollo smirked.

"You daggit!" Omega clenched his teeth. "Okay. You can be 
Travolta... but just as long as you know, I'm only doing this 
because you're pointing a gun at me..."

"What other choice do I have." Apollo raised one eyebrow. "You've 
had all the best Barbies so far, like Denisa and Luffe! You've 
only given me the daggits..."

"Okay, I'm sorry!" Omega lifted his hands to make a peaceful 
gesture. "If you want to play with Luffe..."

"No. I want Ultravox to be Travolta."

"Okay!" Omega raised his voice a little. "Didn't I just promise 
you that he can!"

"I'm going to put the gun down now." Apollo slowly lowered the 
pistol. "You better not go changing your mind..."

"I won't. I promise..."

Omega's wal-com buzzed, startling both men.

Neither of the men made a move at first, just stared at each 
other. Then Omega pointed his forefinger at Apollo warningly. 
"Don't you dare make a sound..."

Omega crawled to the edge of the bed and picked up the receiver 
of the wal-com that was detached to the wall right above the 
bedside table.

"Hello?" The tone of Omega's voice was slightly strained, the 
look in his eyes alert.

Apollo could hear babbling. He tried to make out the words.

After five centons of that obscure babbling from the com-unit, 
Omega finally put the receiver back down and looked at Apollo.

"It was a colleague of mine..."

"You don't have any colleagues." Apollo eyed Omega. "You're the 
only bridge operations controller on the Galactica."

"It was a colleague from the Rising Star." Omega frowned. "Stop 
that nit-picking. I just promised you that you can be Travolta 
and all you can do is whine, whine, whine..."

"Hey, I'm not whining!" Apollo hurried to exclaim.

"I have to go to the Rising Star." Omega swung his legs over the 
side of the bed to the floor and stood up. "There's a show I have 
to see."

"What show?" Apollo was disappointed as frack for having to quit 
the playing. Then he realized he was still holding the laser gun. 
He lifted it up and pointed it at Omega. "You're not going 
anywhere. We have a Saturday night-cycle fever to finish..."

"Put that thing away before you shoot yourself in the leg." Omega 
frowned and started towards the turboflush. "That game has to 
wait. I have other things to do..."

"You didn't tell me what that show was..."

"It's a strip show." Omega replied absently. "What else can it 
be..."

"You're leaving me in the middle of our game to go and watch a 
STRIP SHOW..." Apollo was gasping for air. "What about me? Are 
you going to hold me prisoner in your quarters?"

"That's right." Omega was putting on a clean tunic in the 
turbowashroom.

"What??"

"I haven't killed you yet. How can I let you go when I'm not 
fulfilled." There was a grin in Omega's voice which lingered to 
the bed/livingroom. "And I have yet your face to peel off..."

"What?" Apollo looked around the room, stunned as if he had just 
woken up from a dream.

He noticed the dolls.

"Did we... Did we just play with Barbies?"

"It was fun wasn't it." Omega grinned. Apollo could hear hair 
spray being sprayed. "Perhaps we'll have some time to do it when 
I get back, before I peel your face."

Apollo climbed off the bed and headed to the turbowashroom. He 
had just enough time to see Omega turn his head and look at him 
appearing in the doorway before he fired.

The laser beam struck Omega on the left side of the chest, and 
with a brucewillis-esque grimace he grabbed a hold over that 
blood-spitting wound just before his eyes rolled up revealing the 
white and his head dropped to the side.

Omega was already dead even before he collapsed to the 
turbowashroom door.

* * *

This was the P-section of the launching bay and not usually in 
public use. They were all there, Wilker, Rigel, Sheba, Boomer and 
Starbuck, preparing to say goodbye to the baby that would be the 
first one ever to be sent into space because of its ugliness.

The thing that Wilker had built for the voyage of the baby looked 
exactly like the drone womb. It was placed on the floor, filled 
with nutrient substances and oxygen. Wilker had explained that 
the thing wouldn't need any solium since it didn't have any 
particular target to get to and it would nicely drift in space 
without any fuel. Besides it would be a nature friendly option 
too since it wouldn't contaminate the universe at all.

"What about the babies waste materials?" Boomer had asked and 
found out from Wilker that the drone cradle would contain an 
apparatus that would get rid of it.

"Why don't we have such a thing on the Galactica?" Starbuck had 
asked, quite surprised to hear that an apparatus like that 
existed.

"We do..." Omega had replied patiently. "On the sanitation ship."

So, there it was on the floor, the miraculous drone cradle, Rigel 
Junior already placed inside. Ready to sail to its destination 
whatever that would be.

Wilker closed the hatch of the cradle-thing and checked that it 
was indeed locked. He straightened his back and turned to look at 
the others.

"I guess there's no reason for putting this off any longer." 
Wilker's eyes lingered from one person to another. "The sooner we 
set sail this vehicle, the sooner it might find redemption."

"Not to mention that we all can retire to the officers' club to 
drink a toast for the adventures of Rigel Junior." Starbuck 
grinned.

"The death of Rigel Junior more likely." Sheba mumbled. Her eyes 
lingered to the cradle. "Okay guys. Let's launch it."

"By the way..." Rigel just came to think of something. "Who are 
we going to pick as the next sperm donator then? I still want 
that baby..."

"We'll think about that later." Sheba  replied, already thinking 
about it. "How does Apollo sound..."

Starbuck paled with horror.

"Here we go!" Wilker stated. Cover your ears ladies and 
gentlemen..."

Starbuck closed his eyes. Wilker pressed the launching button...

With a thunderous vroom and an annoying squeaking sound, the 
drone cradle shot into space, vanishing from the view of the bay 
P-sector almost immediately.

Surrounded by the sounds of silence, Starbuck, Boomer and the 
other stared into the direction where the cradle had gone, stared 
into their own private thoughts...

"Well. That's it then." Rigel was still looking at the dark space 
outside, feeling strangely melancholic even though she hadn't 
even known the baby.

"Off we go to the officers' club." Sheba's eyes were on the 
darkness too. "Wilker's buying the drinks."

Wilker's head turned immediately. "Hang on a centon..."

"You got us into this..."

"No, I didn't." Wilker panted. "It was all because of Aeon's 
genes... Which you stole!"

"You wanted me to!!!"

"No I didn't. It was Rigel!..."

"Calm down for Sagan's sake." Starbuck rolled his eyes. He walked 
to Boomer and took his arm. "Come on buddy. Let's get us a couple 
of nice drinks."

Without saying anything Boomer followed Starbuck out of the P-
sector, along metallic corridors, through people-swarming 
lounges...

It wasn't until the entrance to the officers' club was in sight 
that he finally stopped thinking about the monstrous baby and 
that they had just killed it.

"Do you think it'll survive?" Boomer mumbled, more to himself 
than to Starbuck.

"Sure." Starbuck grinned as they were walking towards the bar. 
"I'm an optimist."

"This didn't affect you much did it..."

"Not really." Starbuck glanced at Boomer. "Hey, it's not that I'm 
enjoying sending people to their death, it's just that I'm not 
that fond of children. You of all people should know that 
Boomer."

"Yeah..." Boomer smiled a little, reminiscing some of Starbuck's 
evergreen speeches about the child generation. "Yeah, I've been 
kind of wondering about that..."

Boomer looked at Starbuck. "How do you cope with Boxey. He's not 
really an adult is he..."

"Boxey's okay." Starbuck shrugged. "Besides, he hasn't been 
spending much time in our quarters lately. He's been staying with 
some nice aunts and uncles on the Aerian..."

"Oh yeah, I forgot." Boomer smirked darkly. "You finally 
succeeded in talking Apollo over didn't you."

Starbuck smiled. "The Galactica is no place for children..."

"What do you think will happen to the kid?" Boomer's mind 
lingered back to the baby who was now drifting his way through 
star systems. "Do you think it'll die."

"I'd rather not think about it at all." Starbuck gestured to the 
waiter and then turned his head to give Boomer a heads-up grin. 
"Come on. Let's not talk about the little bugger. You have secret 
details of a bachelor party to reveal..."

"You keep on dreaming buddy." Boomer frowned. "I'm not telling 
you felgercarb..."

* * *

Someone was coming down the hallway, Lomas could hear footsteps.

He pressed his back tighter against the cold metallic surface of 
the wall and, now completely covered in shadows, he stretched his 
neck, trying to see who the approaching person was. Lomas didn't 
see anyone. The hallway remained empty.

He waited. The footsteps were coming closer and closer but still 
no one appeared into view. Patience my friend, Lomas' mind 
instructed him. 

They are only footsteps...

And right then Lomas knew that they weren't.

The shadows had hands.

Disgracing him, moving all over his body, up towards the neck 
wanting to suffocate him with their darkness. Lomas couldn't 
breathe.

The walls had voices.

Quiet whispers, thunderous screams. Sighs of hopelessness.

There was something behind those walls, trying to break though. 
Moving softly, so secretly... Flowing forward with unequaled 
rage, reaching out for him...

Lomas dashed to his feet and started running. Stumbling forward 
blindly, desperately. Trying so hopelessly to escape those ghosts 
in his mind...
										
* * *

Apollo stared at Omega's lifeless body, lying there on the 
turbowashroom door. Blood gathering into a little pond around 
him...

Apollo wanted to close his eyes and forget out what he was seeing 
but he couldn't. Instead he walked to the body and knelt down 
beside it, not giving a frack about the blood that stained his 
clothes.

Omega...

Apollo reached out and closed the man's staring blind eyes. It 
was so hard to see the blankness in them...

How many times had this man helped to save the fleet from 
unaccountably many devilish situations. A man who had always been 
there, his shoulder seeming so strong to lean on, his knowledge 
of technology unbeatable. Omega had always seemed to be the one 
to see so much further than anyone else. Now there was only 
blindness left.

What in heavens had made this kind, very special man so distorted 
inside, Apollo couldn't understand. He never would. Casting one 
final look on Omega, Apollo forced himself up on his feet. He 
stood there with his eyes closed for a little while before 
turning away and heading to the turbowashroom doorway.

In the living room Apollo stopped and let his eyes linger around 
the room, on the toys that were spread on the bed. For a passing 
moment Apollo felt an irresistible, almost devastating urge to go 
and put Ultravox, Luffe and Bridget into his pocket...

He didn't.

Without looking back, Apollo walked out of Omega's quarters.

* * *

Starbuck was concentrating on writing the songlist to the sealing 
ceremony so he didn't look up as Apollo entered the quarters.

"How was your day at the office dear?" Starbuck smiled at the 
ornamental R he was drawing. "I have had quite a day myself! You 
won't believe it when I tell you about it..."

"I had quite a day myself too." Apollo stared at Starbuck, 
blankly, because he was only now beginning to understand the 
whole absurdness about everything that had happened.

"I was kidnapped by Omega. I played with Barbies and ended up 
killing him..."

"What?" Starbuck slowly lifted his eyes off the R to look at 
Apollo standing in the middle of the living room. "Come again..."

"Omega kidnapped me." Apollo replied, tonelessly. "He tied me up, 
locked me into his quarters, came back and showed me his box of 
toys..."

Starbuck noticed the blood on Apollo's clothes and freaked out, 
dropping the pen he was holding. "Jesus Appy! What the 
frack!!..."

"Calm down Starbuck." Apollo smiled a little. "It's not my blood. 
I'm okay..."

Apollo paused, realizing that what he had just said was in fact 
true. He really was okay. Perhaps a little shaken about the 
kidnapping or Omega's death. Definitely a little sad but...okay!

"I'm ready for the bachelor party." Apollo grinned. "How much 
time do we have left before we're due to meet Boomer. I broke my 
watch when fighting with Omega about the Travolta thing..."

Starbuck stared at Apollo. "What thing?..."

"It doesn't matter." Apollo smiled. "I'll tell you about it some 
other time."

Starbuck still didn't turn his very suspicious gaze away from the 
darker man. Not until centons had passed and Apollo had proved 
his sanity by doing normal things such as getting something to 
drink from the kitchen, yawning when returning to the living room 
and going to the bedroom to check the closet to find something 
nice to wear for the evening. Only then was Starbuck unsuspicious 
enough to start concentrating on the ornamental R.

"By the way..." Starbuck's voice lingered to the bedroom. "I sent 
those tuxedos back to the textile ship."

"You did what?" Apollo's head popped from the doorway.

"I ended up realizing that it would be kinda nicer to get sealed 
in our dress uniforms. After all, that is the traditional 
thing..."

"I thought the dress was the traditional thing..."

"With women, yes. But with the men in the military..." Starbuck 
cursed as the R ended up having a little extra line. "...it's 
always been the dress uniform."

Apollo's head disappeared back into the bedroom. "Okay, if that's 
what you really want. But weren't you just the other day 
complaining about how dull and uninteresting dress uniforms 
were..."

"That was the other day." Starbuck grinned. "This is different."

"Did you double check that the ceremony chamber is indeed ready 
for tomorrow?..."

"I changed my mind about that." Starbuck was trying to wipe off 
the damn extra line. "I don't want to get sealed in the same 
place where you and Serina did."

"Oh?"

"So I told the sanitation team to prepare the bridge..."

"OH?"

"Yeah." Starbuck was smirking. "You won't believe your eyes when 
you see that place tomorrow."

"I'm sure I won't." Apollo shook his head. "It's a little hard 
for me to try to imagine the bridge decorated like the Kobolmas 
tree..."

"What are you going to wear tonight?" Starbuck finished the R and 
decided to 
get the rest done later tonight or tomorrow morning.

"That's what I'm trying to decide here." Apollo's gaze lingered 
on the clothes in the closet. "Definitely not the dress uniform 
if I'm gonna were that tomorrow..."

"I was thinking of dressing up in rubber." Starbuck's voice was 
dreamy. "It's just a little difficult  and a damn shame for I 
don't have any rubber outfits..."

That gave Apollo an idea. "Starbuck. Can I borrow your flouncy 
shirt?"

"Are you sure you want to?" Starbuck raised one eyebrow. "You 
used to find that piece of clothing ridiculous..."

"Not any more." Apollo grinned. "Where is it?"

"Shit!" Starbuck frowned. "I just remembered something..."

"What?"

"I gave that flouncy shirt to the sanitation ship..."

“Great." Apollo murmured disappointed. "There goes my idea to 
dress up like Ultravox..."

"Like who?" Starbuck had walked to the bedroom doorway and was 
looking at 
Apollo eyeing the stuff hanging in the closet.

"One of Omega's Barbie dolls." Apollo mumbled absently. "Or 'Ken 
dolls' to be more accurate..."

"I'm not even going to ask..."

"So. You didn't tell me. How much time do we have left until we 
have to meet Boomer?" Apollo turned to give Starbuck a glance. 
"Enough for me to take a shower?"

"Easily!" Starbuck grinned. "We still have a centar and a half."

Starbuck's grin turned to a smirk. "We even have time for a 
little roll in the hay if you know what I mean..."

* * *

Lomas knew he wasn't safe but he remained doubled up in the 
darkness anyway. He couldn't be sure if it was the same cleaning 
closet that he and Astral had been hiding in but he wanted to 
believe it was.

The voices were still lingering outside, some trying to come 
through the door to enter his head. Perhaps if he kept his eyes 
tightly closed...

Lomas couldn't bring down his eyelids. He couldn't even blink. He 
kept staring at something he couldn't quite see in the darkness 
around, listening to his own breathing.

Someone walked past the closet Lomas was hiding in. There were 
footsteps outside, first getting louder, then fading. Or perhaps 
they were no footsteps after all. Lomas couldn't trust his mind. 
It had too many sounds, too many visions. He would have to keep 
his eyes closed so they would become real. He still couldn't 
close them.

Lomas started humming, rocking himself back and forth. What the 
frack was that damn beeping noise. It was the most infuriating 
sound in the darkness. Lomas started humming louder to drown the 
damn beeping, trying to search consolation in his own voice.

The closet door was suddenly jerked open and Lomas found himself 
suddenly bathing in blindingly bright light. It hurt the eyes and 
seemed to have a horrible, pulsating sound. The sound of 
brightness...

"Frack, I say... Are you the same freako that was hiding in this 
closet yesterday!?!"

"What?" Lomas tried to see through the pain in his eyes.

"You and your friend. You were here yesterday having sex. What 
are you doing here now alone? Oh, let me guess..."

"Oh, it's you." Lomas frowned as he recognized the doughy face 
that was beginning to form in the brightness. "Stop following me 
around..."

"You wish!" The sanitation person snorted. "It's you that seems 
to have a fetish for cleaning closets."

"Help me out of here." Lomas extended his hand. All the horrible 
sounds and visions had vanished except for that horrible 
beeping...

"Why aren't you checking your communicator?" The doughy face 
looked curious. "By the sound of it you just had a data message!"

"What?" Lomas looked down and realized that the message light on 
his wrist communicator was blinking.

"Help me will you!" Lomas started worming his way out from behind 
the vacuum cleaner and the floor-turbo that was advertised on the 
IFB to make everything potless. When finally standing in the 
fluorescent-lit corridor, Lomas pressed the alpha button on his 
wrist to check the data that his communicator had received.

The doughy face, that had in all this brightness revealed to be a 
doughy body, was standing beside him, craning his neck to see the 
data too.

"Who's Starbuck?" The doughy person asked while reading the 
message. Lomas didn't bother to answer. His mind was working on a 
new plan...

He looked at the data again and smiled. Yes, he was indeed 
invited to Starbuck's bachelor party and the sealing ceremony. 
Well, didn't that just put things in a new perspective. Lomas 
realized that this was meant to happen from the start.

He was meant to kill Starbuck on the happiest moment of his 
life...

That is what Astral would have wanted.

* * *

Adama yawned and stretched himself out on the bed. Tigh closed 
the door and followed Adama to the bedroom.

Tigh remained in the doorway, his eyes lingering on his husband. 
"Are you going to go to Apollo's and Starbuck's bachelor party?"

"I'll be asleep centars before that." Adama mumbled eyes closed.

"Err, there's only one centar left..."

"Well, I'll be asleep anyway." Adama yawned again. "Could you do 
me a favor darling..."

"Anything." Tigh smiled.

"Can you toss me my night gown please." Adama was already 
drifting to the comfortably numb feeling that takes over just 
before sleep does. "I want the red, lacy one. It's left on a 
chair somewhere..."

"This one?" Tigh picked up the thing.

"Yeah, that's it." Adama hardly opened his eyes as Tigh threw the 
night gown to him.

"Can you believe it Tigh. My son is getting sealed..." Adama sat 
up and started taking off his tunic.

"He already got sealed a while ago."

"Yeah, but this is different. He's getting sealed to Starbuck."

"How is it different from getting sealed to Serina?" Tigh eyed 
Adama who was now putting on the red gown.

"Damn." Adama cursed. "I've gained weight. This thing is a little 
tight."

"It doesn't bother me." Tigh smiled, studying Adama's body which 
that red gown so generously revealed. Especially the love-handles 
around the waist...

"Such a shame about Athena." Adama mumbled, hardly audibly, 
trying to suck in his stomach in order to look thinner. "...And 
Omega too... (Apollo had contacted Adama a little while ago and 
informed him about the latest developments) I can't believe he's 
actually gone..."

Tigh didn't answer.

"Oh, I almost forgot." Adama let himself  breathe normally again. 
The belly enlarged to its normal measures. "I have to sign the 
two-sectonly shopping receipt. It has to be handed over to the 
fleet treasury first thing tomorrow morning. Bring me my 
minicom..."

"Err...Do you have to do it right now?" Tigh's hands were 
twitching behind his 
back.

"I want to get it over with so I can go to sleep." Adama yawned 
again. "Will you please bring me the minicom..."

Tigh sighed and walked to the dresser, opened one of the drawers 
and picked up a small, silver-colored pocket computer that was 
placed inside a black, leather wallet which had a golden A carved 
on the front.

He carried it over to Adama, who took it, putting on his reading 
glasses. Tigh walked back to linger in the doorway, to watch as 
Adama took the computer out from the cage, opened the lid and 
switched it on. Soon the room bathed in cold, bluish light.

Adama typed the commands and watched as a list of all the latest 
shopping bills were brought onto the screen. Tigh watched as 
Adama leaned forward and corrected the position of his reading 
glasses.

There was a moment of complete silence, then Adama looked up at 
Tigh and slowly took off those glasses.

"What is this?"

Tigh was fidgeting. "A couple of outfits I kinda happened to buy 
on the textile ship the other day..."

"A couple?" Adama's eyes lingered to the screen again, then back 
to Tigh. "It says here that during the past secton you have spent 
600 000 of my cubits on BRACELETS!..."

"Well..." Tigh blushed.

"Bracelets, Tigh?" Adama stared at the darker man. "BRACELETS?! 
600 000 cubits?!..."

Tigh was embarrassed as hell but he met Adama's disbelieving 
stare. 

"I'm... sort of addicted to them..."

"600 000 cubits!" Adama took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry." Tigh mumbled. "I honestly am."

Adama's eyes lingered back to the computer screen. "And that's 
not all. During the last two sectons you've bought 45 000 cubits 
worth of lipstick..."

"That was for the both of us..."

"I don't even wear lipstick Tigh." Adama sighed.

"I'm sorry..."

"Why didn't you use your own money?" Adama asked wearily. "A 
colonel's pay isn't exactly small..."

"Umm, that's because I had already used my sectar's pay before 
I..."

"What did you buy with your money?" Adama's eyes were on Tigh, 
who was fidgeting even more, his gaze on the floor.

"Bracelets..."

Adama stared at Tigh. "Did I understand correctly. You just told 
me that you spent a sectar's pay plus 600 000 cubits on... 
bracelets!!!"

Tigh kept eyeing the floor.

"How come I've never seen you wearing any..."

"Because I was trying to hide them from you..."

"Oh Tigh." Adama sighed. "What am I going to do with you..."

"You don't have to do anything." Tigh lifted his eyes. "There's 
not going to be any more bracelet-shopping."

"Do you really think you stop just like that..." Adama mumbled, 
feeling a little suspicious. And not only a little...

"I have to." Tigh grinned, embarrassed. "There are no more 
bracelets left in the whole fleet..."

Adama couldn't help it, he laughed, soon becoming serious again 
though. "Can you promise me that you will never pull this kind of 
a stunt on me again, ever!?!"

"Yes." Tigh promised, and he really meant it. "And you can borrow 
my bracelets any time you want..."

"Okay, I'm gonna get some sleep now." Adama closed his eyes, 
tired as frack. "Don't forget to wake me up when 'The strong-
willed and the military-trained' begins on IFB..."

"I won't." Tigh smiled, switched off the light in the bedroom and 
closed the door behind him.

He walked to the couch and sat down, letting out a sigh. Then he 
reached for the remote control and turned on the IFB receiver and 
closed his eyes. In no time Tigh was in deep sleep, snoring like 
a shuttle thruster...

* * *

"All right buddy, you better tell me where we're going." Starbuck 
kept teasing Boomer, poking him with his elbow as they were 
walking towards the launching bay. Boomer was getting more and 
more annoyed...

"So?" Starbuck was grinning. "What's the big plan?"

Boomer turned to look at Apollo and Starbuck with a calm smile 
lingering on his face. "The plan is that there is no plan."

"What?" Starbuck stared at Boomer with arched brows.

"I hate bachelor parties." Boomer grimaced. "I hate those 
colonial traditions... Watching strippers, drinking like hell, 
partying like mad, sending your best friend into space to drift 
around in his G-suit for twelve centars..."

"You forgot to mention the body painting and the sowing contest." 
Apollo grinned.

"And better not expect any 'who has the longest pair of socks' 
contests either." Boomer frowned. "Or any 'who looks the 
prettiest with a pair of pantyhose over his head' competitions. 
This, my friends, will be just another normal night out, 
celebrating the fact that you guys are taking the big step 
tomorrow and I'm going to end up old and lonely in a cave 
somewhere..."

"Shuttle to the Rising Star ready for boarding in five centons."

"So that's where we're going." Starbuck grinned.

"Yeah, such an enormous surprise wasn't it." Boomer mumbled, half 
smiling. "There are just too many entertaining ships to choose 
from..."

The launching bay was half full as it always was during the 
evening cycle of the bay. People were searching for an escape 
from the pressures of day-cycle duty shifts, wanting to have a 
little moment of fun to forget that they were in the middle of 
nowhere, going to nowhere...

Yes, the awful truth about the situation of the fleet was 
beginning to dawn to everyone.

First, there had been the announcement from Adama that the fleet 
would no longer really search for Earth but settle for the next 
suitable planet. A little confused but also exited, people began 
to prepare for their new future.

When the first seemingly suitable planet was passed without much 
ado, there was a little doubt among the people of the fleet, yes, 
and a few rumors, but that was all. People kept on being excited, 
believing that their new lives would indeed start soon. Believing 
in commander Adama's words when he explained that he had found 
the planet a little faulty.

When the second seemingly suitable planet was ignored, those 
doubts and rumors increased a little but nothing was yet 
suggested that there would be any need for concern. People didn't 
give up their dreams, they kept on believing.

But then, when the thirtieth seemingly suitable planet was 
completely ignored, all the illusions got shattered. Everyone was 
starting to notice the fact that commander Adama had gotten so 
used to sailing around in space that the fleet would apparently 
never end up anywhere.

* * *

"There are no seats." Starbuck's gaze swept over the bay area, 
then lingered back to Boomer. "Have you heard from Tigh or Adama? 
Are they going to join us?"

"I tried to call them earlier but their communicators were turned 
off..."

"I'm sure both of them have decided they want some privacy after 
hearing that Athena had died." Apollo spoke. "I wouldn't expect 
either of them to show up."

"Have you invited anyone?" Starbuck pulled a pack of fumarellos 
from his pocket, put one fumarello between his lips and lit it. 
"Or is it just going to be the three of us?"

"Giles and Jolly are definitely showing up." Boomer coughed 
dramatically and 
waved his hand in front him to protest about the smoke coming 
from Bucky's fumarello. "I called them just before I left. Barton 
said he might drop by. I didn't get a hold of Omega..."

Apollo glanced at Starbuck.

"Aeon said he'd show up..."

Starbuck glanced at Apollo.

"Hey, they're starting to board the shuttle." Boomer noticed. 
"Gentlemen. It seems like our night out is about to start. May I 
advise you love birds to get in that line please. And don't 
forget you promised me a window seat..."

"You and your window seats..." Starbuck mumbled, taking Apollo's 
hand and 
starting to lead him towards the shuttle entrance.

* * *

Softly swaying, the drone cradle kept moving through space, 
starlight creating moving shadows on its metallic surface. 
Cheerful gurgling was coming from the inside as Rigel Junior had 
just finished his milky dinner and was hitting joyfully at the 
plastic ducks that were dangling above his little bed.

Meteorites and astralons were merrily dancing around the drone 
cradle on its way to the unknown. A couple of starbusses and 
starliners sailed by, creating violent turbulence with alpha 
particles which caused that the cradle started swaying like mad 
for a couple of centons.

Inside, Rigel Junior was screaming excitedly. Then puked.

A ship was approaching. A really huge one that looked like a 
shell with a gaping, hungry mouth.

Smaller ships were circling around it like little flies...

* * *

"Don't you think these seats are narrower than usual." Starbuck 
felt uncomfortable, crammed in the middle of a five-seat row.

"Have you heard any announcements about why they are using a C-
wing instead of a normal route shuttle. This is totally 
ridiculous during rush centar..."

"Perhaps the usual route shuttle is being repaired." Apollo 
pondered. He turned to give Starbuck a comforting grin. "Just 
relax darling and forget about the lack of space. The flight 
won't take more than fifteen centons anyway."

"Funny that there hasn't been any announcements other than the 
usual recorded ones..."

"Calm down Starbuck." Boomer was frowning at his seatbelt that 
didn't seem to work. Starbuck noticed and freaked.

"The whole damn shuttle is falling apart! We're going to get 
killed on this flight!..."

"Cut the feldercarb..."

"No. I mean it. The ship is a fracking piece of junk! Look!" 
Starbuck scratched the fabric on his seat, just a little. It 
ripped, making Boomer frown.

"If something is going to destroy this shuttle it's going to be 
you..."

"Shuttle ready for take off. Launching in ten microns. Please 
fasten your seatbelts..."

"Look!" Starbuck was well on his way to panic. "The windows are 
leaking. The 
alpha particles will kill us all..."

"That's just condensed humidity from air conditioning..." Apollo 
explained. "What's the matter with you Starbuck? You've NEVER 
been afraid of flying!"

"That's because I've never been forced to fly in a piece of 
feldercarb like this before!..."

"There's nothing wrong with this shuttle. It's just a little 
old..."

"We're doomed." Starbuck closed his eyes and tightened his grip 
on the seat. 

Apollo shook his head, closed his eyes too and leaned back in his 
seat, concentrating on the quiet, relaxing music flowing from the 
loudspeakers.

The hum of the engine became louder as the shuttle prepared for 
take off. Apollo had always found that hum rather comforting. 
Starbuck had once recorded some of that sound to Apollo so he 
could listen to it in his quarters after a hard day's duty cycle.

There was a little unexpected creak as the shuttle first moved. 
Apollo opened his eyes. Don't be silly, he then sneered at 
himself. This shuttle's just a bit old, that's all.

Starbuck was clutching onto his seat, his knuckles white. Boomer 
seemed to be completely unaware of his surroundings. Apollo let 
his body relax again and acclimatized to the movements of the 
shuttle as it was rolling to take its position in the launching 
tube.

Another creak. This time a heck of a lot louder, lasting a heck 
of a lot longer and causing the shuttle passengers start eyeing 
each other, a little alert. It's nothing, Apollo assured himself 
and glanced at Starbuck who looked like he was about to faint. 
The rolling stopped as the shuttle reached its position. The hum 
of the engines became thunderous as the upper part of the shuttle 
rose a little, getting ready for the launch...

Something exploded!

Suddenly there were flames outside the shuttle, all around, 
licking the shuttle windows as smoke was flowing inside the ship, 
making it harder and harder to breathe and almost impossible to 
see ahead. Panicked screams and cries filled the air as shuttle 
passengers fought to get to the emergency exit. One of the doors 
was jolted open from the outside and a tumult of white-faced, 
coughing passengers pushed their way out from the shuttle.

* * *

"What a wonderful start for a wonderful evening." Starbuck 
frowned, eyeing the others from under his eyebrows as they were 
back in the launching bay passenger area, waiting for another 
shuttle to board.

"Just think how many shuttle trips we've taken between the 
Galactica and the Star. Millions!  And nothing has ever happened. 
Then, on the very night that we are having a real reason to 
party, what happens... The damn ship explodes! That's what I call 
feldercarb!"

"Look at the bright side Starbuck." Boomer smirked. "At least 
we're all still alive."

"I'm thrilled."

"I'm amazed Starbuck." Apollo eyed the blonde man. "How did you 
know... I mean, you were so sure that something horrible would 
happen..."

"That, my dear..." Starbuck grinned. "...wasn't very difficult. I 
just had to take one look at the shuttle. The damn thing was 
literally falling to pieces..."

"Next shuttle to the Rising Star now boarding..."

"Here we go again." Starbuck mumbled, arising from the bench. 
"Let's hope that this time we'll be able to get to our 
destination without further trouble..."

"Where did they get another shuttle so quickly?" Boomer pondered. 
"Wasn't there supposed to be shortage on vehicles. Why else would 
they have replaced the previous shuttle with that ancient C-
wing."

"I think this is one of the shuttles used for navigation 
education." Apollo eyed the ship ahead. "By the size of it, it 
must be utilized especially for the training of new route 
pilots..."

"Whatever it is, it had better work." Starbuck declared. "Or I'm 
gonna go and kick the Fleet Aviation Association's butt..."

Following the slowly moving line of annoyed passengers, Apollo, 
Starbuck and Boomer entered the shuttle and walked to their 
seats.

"Now this more like it." Starbuck looked around and grinned while 
buckling up his seat belt. "I think I'm starting to get my party 
mood back..."

"Good." Apollo smiled and took Starbuck's hand.

"I might even try my luck in a couple of pyramid games, I have a 
feeling..."

"Don't say it!" Boomer covered his ears.

"What? That it's going to be my lucky night?" Starbuck turned to 
give Boomer a smirk.

Boomer rolled his eyes.

"Shuttle ready for take off." The loudspeaker announced. 
"Launching in ten microns. Please, fasten your seat belts and 
bring the backrest of your seat to an upright position..."

"This is the first moment of the rest of my life." Starbuck was 
smiling with his eyes closed, squeezing Apollo's hand. "From now 
on I'll be the happiest person in the universe for tomorrow I 
will finally become Mr. Apollo!!..."

Boomer turned his eyes at Starbuck. "Am I the only one who finds 
your last sentence a little strange..."

"You're right." Starbuck was already thinking the same thing. 
"I'll rephrase that...."

Starbuck cleared his throat and sat up on his seat. "Ladies and 
gentlemen. From now on I will be the happiest person in the 
universe for tomorrow I will finally become Mr. Starbuck 
Apollo!!..."

Silence.

"You're right. It still sounds a little strange." Starbuck 
pondered. "Perhaps I should use a hyphen..."

"You mean like Mr. Starbuck-Apollo." Boomer raised one brow. "But 
then it doesn't sound right. It sounds like one person."

"I am one person." Starbuck pointed out.

"But..."

"Apollo could call himself Mr. Apollo-Starbuck..."

"And I'm going to start calling me Mr. Boomer-the-soon-losing-
his-temper if you're going to keep that up much longer..."

The humming got louder as the shuttle started rolling its metal 
frame towards the beginning of the tube, preparing to take its 
launching position.

* * *

"Haven't I told you not to interfere when I'm playing with my 
Nintendo!" Baltar looked up annoyed as Lucifer entered the throne 
chamber.

"I'm sorry Baltar but we have come across an object that you 
might find intriguing..."

"You've spotted the Galactica and destroyed it?!" Baltar held his 
breath.

"Unfortunately not." Lucifer smirked. "But we found a strange 
little thing drifting nearby."

"Did you fish it on board the base ship?"

"Yes, Baltar. We did indeed." Lucifer turned towards the two 
Cylon centurions that had been standing there behind him and 
snapped his fingers. The cylons turned and exited the chamber, 
only to return a moment later, carrying a strange little thing 
that made Baltar lean forward in his throne chair. "What is 
that?"

"It looks like a barnacle, sir. We haven't opened it yet..."

"Bring it to me."

The two cylons started approaching Baltar, carrying doctor 
Wilker's drone cradle in their arms. Baltar climbed down from his 
chair and waited for the cylons to halt in front of him.

"It's indeed a strange looking little thing." Baltar walked 
around the cylons, wyeing the thing their were holding. "Put it 
on the floor."

"By your command."

Baltar kept eyeing the thing. There were some funny noises coming 
from the inside.

"Have you made sure that it's not a bomb..."

"No Baltar." Lucifer smiled. "We haven't."

Baltar hesitated. He remained standing beside the barnacle, 
eyeing it suspiciously. Then he made up his mind. "Oh what the 
heck! Force that thing open!"

"By your command."

One of the cylons kicked the barnacle and a hatch opened.

Baltar bent down to take a look inside. His jaw dropped all the 
way to the floor and he lifted his eyes to look at Lucifer.

"It's alive!"

"What is, Baltar?" Lucifer was curious.

"A baby!" Baltar panted.

"Really?" Lucifer replied politely, remaining standing further 
away, keeping his distance, just in case. You never knew with 
human babies.

Baltar took another peek inside the barnacle.

"Jeeesus!" He looked up and grimaced. "It's ugly as hell!"

"Oh dear." Lucifer sighed compassionately.

Baltar reached towards the baby inside the barnacle thingy and 
lifted it up into his arms to take a closer look.

"By heavens, you are ugly, my boy!" He grinned and tickled the 
baby under its chin, then turning towards Lucifer.

"Here..." Baltar handed over the baby. "Take this thing. Give it 
bath, feed him, find him some green clothes and then bring him to 
me..." Baltar smiled. "It looks like the Sagans have just given 
me a new son!"

* * *

"Such an incredible sight." Starbuck sighed, looking at the star-
filled space outside the shuttle window. "I'll never get used to 
it."

The route-shuttle to the Rising Star had left the Galactica 6 
microns ago and had only just received its non-ascending 
position. The pilot was apparently having problems with leveling 
for the shuttle had been swaying rather uncomfortably since the 
moment it had detached itself from the launching tube.

"Problems with leveling?" Starbuck snorted. "Problems with his 
drinking more likely. That pilot is either very drunk or getting 
there pretty fast..."

"If you don't mind, I'd rather not think that my life is in the 
hands of a drunken pilot." Boomer frowned.

The shuttle plunged into a sudden nose-dive, then regaining its 
balance and starting to increase its altitude, slowly.

"I have a bad feeling about this." Starbuck murmured, then 
clutched onto his seat again as the shuttle took another dive, 
this time losing it's balance completely and turning upside down.

"Thank Sagan I don't have any fabulous hairstyle prepared for 
tonight." Starbuck's amused eyes lingered on Apollo and Boomer 
who had their hair sticking right up towards the ceiling of the 
shuttle... Or rather, considering the circumstances, hanging down 
towards the ceiling of the shuttle.

"I'm getting space sick." Boomer mumbled, green-faced.

"Don't you dare throw up on me..."

The shuttle regained its upright position but none of the 
passengers were smiling. Everyone had noticed that the shuttle 
was flying AWAY from the ships of the fleet instead of 
accompanying them.

"This is it!" Apollo unbuckled his seatbelt and stood up. "I'm 
going to go and exchange a couple of words with that pilot!..."

"Are you crazy!" Starbuck screamed. "Sit down you foo..."

The shuttle suddenly inclined to the right, making Apollo lose 
balance completely. If he hadn't been holding onto the seat 
backrest while about to hop over to the aisle, he would've fallen 
and crashed against the opposite wall, which was now acting as 
the floor of the shuttle, and died immediately.

Apollo clenched his teeth, trying to keep on holding, dangling in 
the air. The shuttle started inclining more and more and in no 
time it was once again upside down, Apollo hanging towards the 
ceiling. His grip was beginning to slip.

Starbuck kept screaming like a lunatic beside him, wanting 
frantically to grab a hold of Apollo but not being able to since 
he would have fallen himself if he had let go of the seat.

It seemed to last forever. The shuttle kept flying away from the 
fleet, upside down, swaying like a ship in a storm. Some of the 
passengers were already puking. Starbuck tried his best not to 
notice. Throwing up was the worst thing he could think of. Even 
dying wasn't that bad...

The shuttle finally regained its upright position and made a 
sudden U-turn, now flying towards the ships of the fleet. Apollo 
fell back to his seat, pale as snow and hurried to buckle up his 
seat belt.

"Let's hope the pilot came to his senses." Starbuck panted, 
covered in cold sweat. He reached out and took both of Apollo's 
hands, squeezing them like mad. 

"For Sagan's sake Appy! Don't you ever dare to give me a scare 
like that again!..."

"We've got to do something!" Apollo was studying the big colonial 
voyager ships, coming closer and closer. "The shuttle is 
approaching those ships much too fast! The pilot won't be able to 
control its movements swiftly enough!"

"Oh please..." Starbuck closed his eyes. "Tell me all this will 
end..."

"This will all end..." Boomer smirked darkly. "As soon as we 
crash on one of those voyagers."

"I should've stayed at home like my horoscope advised..." 
Starbuck let out a fatalistic sigh. "When we get back to the 
Galactica I'm never going to regard fortune telling as feldercarb 
ever again..."

"...If we get back..." Boomer murmured, just before the shuttle 
plunged into another dive, this time so quickly that the 
passengers seemed to linger in the air forever until dropping 
back on their seats.

"This doesn't look good." Apollo's eyes were on the Gemini which 
was becoming bigger and bigger by the micron. "We are much too 
close to that ship..."

"Just my luck to end up in a shuttle with a blind pilot!" 
Starbuck frowned as he too was staring at the Gemini. "Oh Sagan, 
we seem to be moving towards that ship with the speed of light!"

"Erm, not quite..."

"Well it sure as hell looks like it..."

The details on the surface of the Gemini were getting more and 
more accurate. Hell, Starbuck could almost see people having 
dinner in a Geminan restaurant through the windows.

"Better not be having ten-yahren-old ambrosa and marinated 
mushies at the moment of my death..."

"I think that looks more like chicken soup..."

"How can you be joking at a time like this!!" Starbuck turned his 
head to give Boomer a quick glare.

"Oh god." Apollo kept staring out the shuttle window. The Gemini 
was now so close it didn't even seem to have any form, just 
metallic surface everywhere. "It's so damn close I can almost 
touch it!..."

"I think this is it." Starbuck's face was completely ashen. He 
was holding Apollo's hand so tightly that the other man winced. 
"Oh god! We're really going to die here!"

"No we're not!" Boomer snorted  but wasn't in the least as sure 
about it as he sounded. The metal surface was coming closer and 
closer.

Starbuck closed his eyes to not see the Gemini hurling towards 
them like a 
laser.

"I love you guys! When I get to heaven I'll never forget you..."

"Shut up Starbuck..."

The nose of the shuttle swooped up, avoiding the Gemini by 
centimetrons only, then it started sliding straight upwards, 
sweeping the surface of the other ship like it was a metallic 
runaway.

There was a loud crack and a terrible jolt as something got 
bounced against the Gemini, probably the shuttle landing gear. 
Starbuck kept squeezing his eyes shut, trying to think about how 
wonderful tomorrow would be. Flowers, sealing rings, eternal 
promises, Apollo in a dress uniform, Boomer cooped up inside a 
cake, waiting for the right moment...

"We made it!" Starbuck heard Apollo's half relieved, half stunned 
voice. He opened his eyes and looked out of the window.

The Gemini was indeed gone. The shuttle had slid so far upwards 
that the whole fleet had vanished from view.

The shuttle made a couple of graceful loops and then dived 
downwards, only to reach the level of the fleet, where it 
straightened its nose and normalized its flying angle to 5,77.

"That's it!" Apollo made up his mind. "Loops or no loops, I'm 
going up to the cockpit RIGHT NOW!" He started unbuckling his 
seatbelt.

"I'm coming with you..."

Together, Starbuck and Apollo started inching their way towards 
the cockpit door, carefully holding onto the seat backrests and 
overhangs on the walls, not wanting to take any chances if it 
happened that the shuttle plunged into its deadly dance again.

Slowly, but without any shuddering incidents, Apollo and Starbuck 
reached the cockpit door. Apollo tried the handle and frowned. 
"It's locked damn it!"

Starbuck's eyes were on Apollo. "Do you have your laser gun?"

Apollo grinned darkly, his mind lingering on the incidents that 
had taken place earlier. One thing he sure had learned today and 
that was never to leave his quarters without a gun again.

"Yeah, I have it..."

"Great." Starbuck smiled. "Then you can shoot the lock."

"Okay. Step back..." Apollo let go of his grip on the nearest 
overhang on the wall and pulled out his gun from the holster. He 
would need both hands to hold the gun steady when aiming at such 
a small area as the lock was. Apollo narrowed his eyes and 
prepared to shoot...

Surprise, surprise! The shuttle swayed dangerously and plunged 
into another one of its famous loops. Apollo lost his balance and 
fell against Starbuck who reacted faster than the lightning and 
grabbed Apollo by the jacket while still holding onto the thing 
on the wall with one hand.

"Oh frack." Starbuck mumbled as they were both hanging helpless 
in the air. 

Apollo's jacket made a dangerous ripping sound. Apollo swallowed.

Time stopped.

After what seemed like an eternity, the shuttle regained its 
upright position and, as you all probably guessed, our heroes 
remained unharmed. This time however, Apollo didn't waste time on 
hesitating. The moment he felt the floor under his feet he aimed 
his gun and shot the damn lock. The door shattered to little 
pieces.

"Well, hello there!" Dimstar's grinning face turned to greet the 
intruders. "Isn't it nice here at this time of yahren...All these 
stars and comets..."

Apollo couldn't believe his eyes. He had to close them and open 
them again to make sure he wasn't having a nightmare.

Starbuck was feverishly trying to remember where the frack had he 
seen that face before. He turned to look at Apollo and noticed 
that the darker man was gasping for air, looking like a fish on 
dry land. It took Apollo at least 30 microns before he was able 
to find his voice.

"What the hell are you guys doing in here!!!..."

"No need to use that kind of language!" Oscar, who was holding 
the control stick, turned to eye Apollo disapprovingly.

"What?" Apollo wasn't quite sure he had heard right.

"It's not our fault." Dimstar shrugged. "We were just loitering 
around in this shuttle and suddenly there was a command coming 
from the communicator, telling us to launch. What could we do..."

"Hold it! Hold on a centon here..." Apollo pressed his fingers 
onto his temples, definitely needing a couple of centons to... 
"Weren't you guys supposed to be on a planet somewhere..."

"Yeah..." Dimstar grinned embarrassed. "But we were brought back 
to the Galactica to..."

The shuttle started swaying again. Oscar cursed as he was trying 
to control the control stick.

"Hold on guys!" Starbuck lifted his hands to make a peaceful 
gesture. "Why don't we start with letting the most qualified 
person to fly this ship..."

Oscar turned, extremely annoyed. "Are you suggesting that I'm not 
qualified!?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying!" Starbuck was already making his 
way towards the control board, ready to kick Oscar's butt.

Something made Starbuck stumble but he succeeded in grabbing a 
hold of the tail-light switch, which was a lot bigger in Training 
shuttles than normal ones.

"What the..."

He lifted his eyes and saw Oscar smirking furiously, wiggling the 
control stick back and forth having made the shuttle swerve off 
its trail and jump here and there like a stoned kangaroo.

"Are you crazy??!!!!"

"Don't ever call me unqualified again!" Oscar warned and made a 
couple of extra big wiggles before pulling the control stick back 
to its normal position.

Starbuck rolled his eyes. "Okay. You're qualified. A real champ!"

"That's me!" Oscar grinned. "Never losing my animal style..."

"Wouldn't you let me take the control of this shuttle anyway..." 
Starbuck was smiling oh so charmingly indeed. "You must be pretty 
tired after all this virtuosi flying..."

"Yeah." Oscar yawned. "I guess I'm pretty beat..."

"Great." Starbuck smiled, starting once again towards Oscar.

"...But it doesn't mean I'm gonna let you fly!" Oscar kept on 
holding onto the control stick, now almost compulsively. "I'm the 
captain of this ship..."

"I'm the captain of this ship!" Dimstar turned like a laser. "You 
are only 
flying it because you are the only one who knows how to do it!"

Apollo couldn't believe this. He just couldn't... "Erm." He 
coughed. "Why don't you gentlemen explain to me how you happen to 
be flying this route shuttle..."

Nicael, who had been sitting quietly on the navigating officer's 
seat, raised his hand and made his presence known. 

"Shall I start from the very beginning or..."

"From the beginning please." Apollo smiled. "If possible..."

"Okay." Nicael grinned and took a deep breath. "I think it was 
day 2 of Caiari Moonfall. There was a huge party starting on the 
Scorpion celebrating the release of our album 'Twirls of 
Distance' and..."

"Not THAT far from the beginning!"

"Where then?" Nicael was getting irritated. "There are so many 
beginnings I can't possibly know which one you are referring 
to..."

"Please start from the point in time when you were lost and 
helpless in space and..."

"Oh THAT!" Nicael smiled. "Here we go...." He cleared his throat. 
"I don't quite remember the date but once upon a time a bunch of 
cylons came, destroyed our homes on the colonies and forced us to 
flee in our ships..."

Apollo's face was turning red.

Dimstar suddenly cut in. "Hey, I think I know which 'lost and 
helpless in space' beginning you must be talking about. You were 
one of the men in that shuttle, right?"

"Right." Apollo had to fight to keep his cool. "And you were 
trying to kill us by flying like lunatics..."

"WHO'S A LUNATIC!?!" Oscar stumbled to his feet, knocking over a 
radar adjuster or something.

"Sit down you idiot!" Dimstar pulled Oscar down by his hand, 
glaring at the fool. The he turned once again to Apollo, smiling 
like an angel. "We're sorry for putting you in danger. It was 
just that Oscar didn't have his eyeglasses and...

Starbuck had secretly inched his way towards the control stick 
and was now near enough to grab it. Starbuck's hand was around 
the stick before Oscar had even had time to react.

Oscar let out a blood-freezing howl and started hitting Starbuck 
in the head. Apollo rushed over to save his lover from the fists 
of this raging dimwit and in no time Oscar was sitting on the 
floor in a corner of the cockpit, gagged and handcuffed.

Out of breath and a couple of bruises richer, Apollo fell back to 
his seat and urged Dimstar to go on with his story. Starbuck was 
sitting on the pilot seat, triumphantly holding the control stick 
and casting annoying grins at Oscar.

"Where was I..." Dimstar thought for a micron. "Oh yes. Lost in 
space."

"What happened after Aeon and I left?" Apollo's weary eyes were 
on Dimstar who was holding his head upside down and ruffling with 
his hair to make it messy.

Dimstar looked up again and smiled. "Yeah. The rescue shuttle 
came to rescue us as you had promised..."

"And?" Apollo urged Dimmy to continue.

"And as they had lassoed us, they realized they were running out 
of solium so they had to return to the Galactica."

"Oh no..." Apollo already knew what was to follow.

"And since were hanging in the end of their lasso, we had no 
other choice than to follow them."

"How did you get into this shuttle?"

"The bay crew told us to wait as the rescue shuttle was being re-
fueled and there we were, loitering about in the landing bay, 
getting lost and obviously wandering around the launching bay..."

"...And we saw this great big shuttle just standing there." 
Nicael continued with a grin. "So we became curious and wanted to 
see if everything inside that shuttle was big too and went in..."

"And just as we were in the cockpit, trying to remember which way 
would lead us out of there, a woman's voice started flooding from 
the loudspeakers, ordering us to prepare the shuttle for take 
off." Dimstar remembered. "And we didn't feel we had much choice 
since the voice of that woman was quite imperious..."

"And so we did what we were told." Nicael concluded. "Besides, 
before we even had time to react, there were people lining into 
the shuttle so we couldn't quite leave them alone in a pilotless 
shuttle..."

Starbuck pressed his fingers to his temples.

"How in the names of lords did you manage to operate the 
shuttle?" Apollo was dumbfounded. "The last time I saw you, your 
pilot couldn't even see his own 
hand..."

"Mnmnmppfhhh..."

"Shut up Ozzie!" Dimstar glanced at the lad in the corner, then 
turned back to Apollo. "How did we manage to operate it..."

Dimstar pondered for a moment. Then he looked up.

"To be honest, I have no idea." He confessed. "Why don't we ask 
Oz. After all, he was the one flying the ship..."

Dimstar leaned over and pulled the gag away from covering Oscar's 
mouth. Oscar was looking like a storm cloud.

"How did you manage to get the shuttle launched Oz?" Dimstar 
wanted to know.

"I didn't." Oscar murmured. "I just had a hell of a lot of 
luck..."

Starbuck paled as he realized that it had been only luck that had 
carried him through that launching tube.

"Okay folks. Enough of this relaxing conversation. Why don't we 
get this shuttle to the Rising Star so me and Apollo can start 
our party and forget that this thing ever happened..."

"A party?" Nicael raised one eyebrow.

"Yes, our bachelor party." Starbuck grinned and glanced at 
Apollo.

"We can't." Dimstar realized.

"Can't what?" Starbuck's eyes lingered to the moppy-haired man.

"Land on the Rising Star." Dimstar looked up.

"What?"

"Land on the Rising Star..."

"Yes, I heard that." Starbuck panted. "Would you mind explaining 
to me why?"

"We are not properly dressed." Dimstar frowned. "There's no way 
I'm consenting to landing on the Star in this outfit."

"WHAT!"

"Dim's right!" Nicael nodded. "We don't have the right gear!"

"Especially Oz!" Dimstar eyed Oscar's outfit disapprovingly. "We 
have to make a stop on the Galactica before landing on the Rising 
Star so we can change..."

"Dim, you're forgetting something."

"Huh?" Dimstar turned to look at Nic.

"We have no gear on the Galactica. We were deported remember. All 
our gear is in that shuttle we were deported in..."

Dimstar's expression turned impatient. "That shuttle is on the 
Galactica!"

"Oh yeah." Nicael grinned. "I forgot..."

There was a knock on the cockpit door and the head of a cute 
black man peeped from the gap in the doorway.

"Is this going to take long?"

"Boomer!!"

"The passengers are getting kinda restless so I was wondering..." 
Boomer paused and eyed around the cockpit. "Do I know you guys?"

"Not yet." Oscar was grinning like a lunatic. "Are you from 
around here or...?"

"What?" Boomer's lingering gaze halted on the guy handcuffed to a 
ventilation pipe.

"Pay no notice to him." Starbuck snorted from the pilot seat. "Go 
and tell the passengers that we have everything under control 
here and we are ready to return to the Rising Star."

"What do you mean 'return'?" Oscar's eyes turned to Starbuck. "We 
haven't even been there yet."

"Apollo..." Starbuck's head was beginning to ache. "Do you mind 
taking the control stick for a little moment while I step out for 
some fresh air..."

"It's the same ventilated air everywhere." Dimstar noted. "Unless 
you were 
thinking about stepping out, like, completely, in which case you 
will probably..."

Starbuck couldn't take it any more. He attacked Dimstar.

Completely dumbfounded, not knowing whether to laugh or cry, 
Boomer and Apollo dove after Starbuck to pull him off the poor 
moppy-haired man who was now obviously on the losing side.

There was panting and cursing until Boomer managed to get a hold 
of Starbuck's wrists,  forcing the man's hands back. Starbuck 
kept struggling back like mad but Boomer's grip was firm and 
finally Starbuck grew tired of resisting and settled for casting 
murderous looks on Dimstar.

The shuttle inclined a little, starting to tremble.

"The control stick!" Apollo yelled and shot his way past Starbuck 
and Boomer. He grabbed the stick and slowly brought the shuttle 
back to angle 5,77 and let out the breath he had been holding.

Boomer happened to glance out of the window.

"Shit."

Starbuck turned his head to glance at Boomer. "What is it?"

"Are we really supposed to be this far from the fleet..."

"Eh?" Starbuck furrowed his brows and followed Boomer's gaze.

"We better turn back now!" Boomer glanced at Apollo who had 
already noticed the situation and was preparing for a U-turn. 
"Are we still within scanner range?"

"Yes." Apollo smiled darkly. "But we don't have enough solium to 
get back."

"WHAT?" Starbuck leaped over Oscar and Dim, who were both sitting 
on the floor now, and dashed to the control board to take a look 
at the fuel readings. The warning sign was already flashing. 
Starbuck turned to look at Apollo.

"What for Sagan's sake are we going to do?"

"This is the worst bachelor party that I've even been to." Boomer 
mumbled to the stars faraway. "I'm almost afraid to think about 
the sealing ceremony tomorrow..."

"There's not going to be any sealing ceremony if we can't get 
back..."

"Why don't you guys get sealed in this shuttle?" Dimstar asked 
curiously. 

"You've got a shuttleful of witnesses, there's salami and 
tulipian buds stocked in the cockpit fridge, not to mention some 
ambrosa, a packet of solidified plant vapors and two bottles of 
Rusty-Brown..."

"Did you just say Rusty-Brown?" Apollo's eyes lingered to 
Dimstar.

"Yep." Dimstar grinned. "The best smuggled grog there is..."

Apollo wasn't listening any more. He dashed to the gray box 
placed near the cockpit entrance and opened its lid.

"Where is it?" Apollo was eyeing the contents of the box and 
looked up.

"The salami?" Dimstar lifted one eyebrow.

"No, you idiot! The grog!"

"Oh that..." Nicael smiled broadly. "We drank it."

"You what?..." Lightning bolts were flashing in Apollo's eyes as 
they turned to 
Nicael. "Do you realize what you have done..."

"Yeah!" Nicael eyed Apollo innocently. "We drank it."

"How come you're not drunk?" Starbuck asked, indeed curious.

"When you're a superstar, you kinda get used to that stuff..."

Apollo let the lid of the fridge-box drop, fell to the floor and 
covered his face with his hands. Starbuck eyed him a little 
worried.

"What's with the grog Apollo? If you need to relax a bit, there's 
always the 
ambrosa..."

"Don't you see Starbuck." Apollo let his hands fall on his lap. 
"We could've used that grog as fuel. It's 800 per cent stronger 
than any other drink. That's why it's smuggled..."

"Oh..." Starbuck understood.

"Why don't you guys try ambrosa?" Nicael eyed Apollo.

"It won't work." Apollo frowned at Nicael's ignorance. It's not 
strong enough."

"How do you know?" Nicael smiled. "Have you ever even tried to 
use it as fuel before?"

"Fine, expensive ambrosa as shuttle fuel?" Starbuck was almost 
laughing. "You've got to be kidding!"

"What's there to lose?" Nicael continued, his eyes still on 
Apollo. "Why don't you give it a try."

"Oh, what the heck!" Apollo arose from the floor, opened the 
fridge-box lid and pulled out seventeen bottles of five-yahren-
old ambrosa.

Starbuck couldn't watch.

Suddenly Apollo paused. He slapped his forehead.

"Oh shit."

"What is it now?"

"How the frack are we going to get the ambrosa into the fuel 
tank! It's filled from outside the shuttle!"

"Not necessarily." Boomer thought of something.

He let his eyes linger around the cockpit and spotted it. "Give 
me those bottles Apollo."

Followed by five pairs of eyes, Boomer made his way to a hatch 
that looked exactly like all the other ventilation hatches. He 
opened it and sniffed. A smile lingered to Boomer's face. He took 
the first bottle of ambrosa, opened it and started pouring the 
contents into the pipe that the hatch had revealed.

"Oh you fool, you're going to drown us all!" Starbuck frowned.

"This is no air circulation pipe Starbuck." Boomer kept pouring 
the ambrosa, bottle after bottle. "This is the emergency fueling 
system."

"Yes, of course!" Apollo remembered. "All the training shuttles 
have emergency systems..."

"Why wasn't I aware of that?" Starbuck wanted to know.

Boomer looked up at him and smirked. "Because you were always 
asleep when they taught us those things in the academy, buddy!"

Boomer poured the last drop and placed the empty bottle in the 
row with the thers. He rose from the floor and walked to the 
control board.

"Well?" Starbuck was curious as frack. "Is it working?"

"There's no change in the data." Boomer was disappointed. "It 
looks like we're about to remain here in the middle of nowhere 
for the rest of our lives..."

"Why don't you contact the Galactica or some other ship?" Dimstar 
asked. "They can send someone out here to lasso us back home."

"We're too far away. The communicators are not working."

"Wait a centon!" Boomer noticed a little change in the readings. 
"I think something's happening."

Everyone fell completely silent. All eyes were on Boomer's back. 
The silence seemed to last for centars, the atmosphere in the 
cockpit becoming more and more anxious by the micron. Finally 
Boomer turned, his expression all-revealing. "The ambrosa 
destroyed the pipes from the fuel tank to the engines. Gentlemen, 
it seems like we are in deep feldercarb."

Apollo fell to the floor. Nicael leaned his head against his 
knuckles and sighed with despair.

Dimstar was pacing restlessly around the cockpit. "Will one of 
you please uncuff me!" Oscar's butt was starting to get numb. He 
wanted to pace around too, just like Dimstar was doing.

Starbuck hit his fist against the fuel meter, letting out his 
most sincere feldercarb and frack.

Boomer kept staring out the window, into the distance. Something 
made a funny rattling noise. Nicael was the first one to lift his 
head.

"What is that?"

"Probably the shuttle's counter reaction to the ambrosa. We are 
going to blow up any micron..."

"Get real!" Dimstar snorted.

"No, I mean it!" Starbuck was serious. "What we just found out 
the hard way is that one of the elements used in making ambrosa 
is harmful to..."

"This is cadet Aeon from shuttle GA-ARX77 trying to contact GA-
TRA12. Can you hear me Apollo...?"

Stunned, astonished, surprised as frack (you name it) Apollo shot 
up from the floor and stumbled to the control board.

"Aeon!" Apollo screamed. "This is GA-TRA12 contacting GA-ARX77. 
Mayday. Mayday. We are out of fuel and in danger of being blown 
up by 0,0057 megons of ambrosa!..."

There was a little pause, the only sound lingering was the 
rattling of the com connection.

"Apollo, are you serious?..."

"Very serious!" Apollo was holding the microphone. "Can you help 
us?..."

"That's the reason why I volunteered to fly out here. To rescue 
you."

"Don't tell me you're alone in that shuttle!" Apollo frowned. 
"You're not qualified to..."

"Of course I'm not alone here. Lieutenant Jolly is sitting right 
next to me. He was the first one to notice your shuttle swerving 
off course in the first place. He happened to be on the 
bridge..."

"Let's leave those minor details to another occasion, okay..." 
Starbuck spoke to the microphone over Apollo's shoulder. "I think 
we should concentrate on getting out of here before we all find 
ourselves sitting next to the Sagans, covered in ambrosa!"

"Right. I'm going to use the lassoing method..."

"Whatever. Just get us back to the Galactica or the Rising Star."

"Hey, I told you guys we can't land on the Star! We're not 
properly dressed! I'm not wearing my platforms...Or any make-up 
for that matter. It's like running around the carnival area 
completely naked..."

"Don't make me come down there..." Starbuck gave Dimstar a 
warning glance. 

Dimstar clicked his mouth shut.

"Preparing to launch the lasso." Aeon's voice informed. 
"Switching on the targeting apparatus... pushing up the distance 
calculator... pressing to lasso turbo... NOW!"

Starbuck watched with curiosity as the metallic rope catapulted 
through space and captured the shuttle like a man in a funny hat 
catches a four-legged animal in old Aerian movies. Starbuck's 
favorite intructioness in the orphanage used to call them 
'westerns'.

Slowly but firmly the ARX started pulling the training shuttle 
towards the faraway ships of the fleet. Slowly but firmly a smile 
was forming onto Starbuck's face as he knew that they were 
finally on their way to safety...

The smile froze half-way when Starbuck heard the soft thud. A 
cloud of powdery-like substance puffed into the air, forcing 
Starbuck to double up for he was coughing so hard.

"What the frack..." Apollo pressed a napkin onto his face to 
cover his nose and mouth.

"What is this stuff?..."

"Why don't you ask your superstar friend." Starbuck was coughing 
and cursing at the same time.

All eyes turned to a man who was leaning against the cockpit 
door, whistling and looking strangely casual.

"Dimstar..." Starbuck snarled. "I'm gonna kick your ass for 
this..."

"It was an accident." Dimstar shrugged.

"Oh you didn't!" Nicael frowned, realizing Dimstar had wasted all 
the drugs on board. "I was planning to sniff some of that stuff 
later tonight..."

"Oh, you guys were going to snort all that stuff without telling 
me!" Oscar realized.

"No, I was going to share!" Nicael pointed out. "It was Dimstar 
here who tried to take it all!"

"No I didn't." Dimstar hurried to defend himself. "I was just 
going to take a little sample. How  was I supposed to know the 
shuttle was about to run into alpha-particle turbulence..."

The powdery cloud of solidified plant vapors was slowly clearing 
up, gathering to the floor all around the place. Brown, fine-
fibrous thing that looked misleadingly like K-flour.

"Solidified plant vapors!" Boomer frowned. "I can't believe you 
people talk about that stuff like it's primaries..."

"Isn't it? Nicael looked at Boomer, indeed surprised.

Dimstar was looking nostalgic. "You know, when I was still alive, 
I used put some of that stuff on K-biscuits. It sort of brought 
out the taste in them..."

"Oh, I usually spice up my drinks with it." Oscar glanced at 
Dimstar, intrigued by his habits. "Or decorate my quarters with 
it..."

"I use it as toothpaste." Nicael grinned.

"Really?" Dimstar turned to look Nicael, surprised. "Does it 
work?"

"It sure does!" Nicael beamed, revealing a row of white, healthy-
looking and shiny teeth. "It's the best toothpaste I've ever 
used."

Nicael turns towards the camera, holding a pile of brown, fine-
fibrous powder on his palm. "Solidified plant vapors..." He 
grinned. "Brings out the plant in you!"

Alright! Get the advertising crew out of here! There is some 
static rustling coming from the communicator. I think there's an 
important message coming in...

"Apollo. This is cadet Aeon from the GA-ARX77. We are approaching 
the Rising Star and will be landing in five centons. Bring down 
your landing gear..."

"Copy that." Apollo replied to the com-mic. "We'll start 
preparing for landing..."

"Hang on a centon guys." Starbuck leaned over Apollo's shoulder 
to make himself audible to Aeon and Jolly. "How in heavens did we 
get back so quickly? Just a moment ago we were in the middle of 
nowhere, too far for even the communicators to work..."

"I pressed the triple turbo button that only the ARX-shuttles 
have and brought us home in record time."

"Oh, okay." Starbuck grinned. "The wonders of modern technology. 
What can I say..."

"Shit! We have a little problem." Apollo just remembered 
something. "We don't have landing gear!..."

"Come again?"

"It broke when Mr. Qualified Pilot here..." Apollo glanced at 
Oscar. "...tried to use the Gemini as a runaway..."

"What?"

"I'll explain later." Apollo sighed. "The important thing now  is 
to find a way to get our damn shuttle down without blowing up the 
Rising Star and killing us all!"

"Hey, I told you not to land on the Star!! What's the matter with 
you!! You deaf or something..."

"Shut up Dimstar."

"What? You wanna fight with me, huh? You mind stepping 
outside..."

"What's going on in there?"

"Nothing much." Apollo frowned. "We're just having a little drug 
problem that's all."

"WHAT?"

"The drugs that we found stocked on this shuttle just blew up 
into the air a while. I think it affected some of us..."

"I'm not even going to ask..."

CRASH!

Silence.

"Shit! That was the only word Starbuck managed to get out of his 
mouth after centons. Everybody was staring at the pieces of 
shattered metal and broken wires and nuts on the floor.

Everyone else except Dimstar who was standing a little aside with 
his hands tucked in his pockets, whistling a merry tune and 
looking strikingly casual.

"What the hell was that?" Aeon was audibly jumpy. Jolly was 
babbling something in the background, away from the microphone.

Apollo let out a long, capitulated sigh and leaned towards the 
com-mic. "Nothing much. Our control computer just dropped off the 
table."

Silence.

"Are you kidding me Apollo..."

"Nope. I'm dead serious." Apollo wasn't smiling. "Without that 
computer we won't be able to estimate the closing distance..."

"It doesn't matter since we are pulling you in. All you have to 
do is keep the shuttle steady and keep your hand on the control 
stick to make sure the vehicle won't drift out of course and hit 
the frame of the landing tube..."

"...And pray that the sparks caused by touchdown without landing 
gear won't cause the ambrosa-damaged wires or pipes to heat 
up..." Starbuck's voice lingered from over Apollo's shoulder.

"This sucks." Dimstar frowned somewhere in the background.

"We have received permission from the Rising Star bridge control 
to start landing." Aeon informed. "I'm signing off now to keep 
the com-line open for the navigation instructions and the co-
ordinates. See you down there Apollo."

"Yes. See you there..." A warm smile lingered on Apollo's face as 
he turned off the com-unit. A smile that didn't go unnoticed by 
Starbuck. Quickly he turned away so he wouldn't have to look at 
it.

There was silence in the cockpit for a little while. Apollo was 
watching the approaching landing-bay lights, keeping the control 
stick steady. Starbuck was tapping his fingers against the 
control board, quietly humming a melody that had stuck into his 
head.

"Apollo..." He paused humming. "What are we going to do about 
Dimstar and the two others? They're dead remember..."

"Yeah! We're dead remember!" Nicael raised one eyebrow. "What are 
you gonna do with us?"

"Give you back your shuttle and send you on your way." Apollo 
mumbled absently, concentrating on the landing.

"We can't." Starbuck realized. "Although I'd sleep my cycles a 
hell of a lot better knowing those morons were somewhere far far 
away, we can't really send them into the middle of nothing. There 
are no planets within 80 hectares..."

"Yeah!" Nicael agreed. "You can't send up in the middle of 
nowhere... Besides, Oscar needs to find his eyeglasses!"

"I'm sure you can stay on the Galactica or the Rising Star until 
we reach the next target." Apollo kept his eyes on the opening of 
the tube, carefully making sure that the shuttle wasn't drifting 
off course. "If I remember correctly, we are entering the Xilrian 
system tomorrow..."

"Great." Nicael beamed. "I choose staying on the Star..."

"Goddammit! We can't land..."

"Shut up Dimstar!" Nicael was getting tired of hearing that.

"Yeah, shut up." Oscar gave his support to Nici.

"Yo, give me five!" Nicael grinned and raised his hand. He and 
Oscar exchanged a conspirators' slap.

"Apollo..."

"What now?"

Starbuck's mind lingered on Aeon for a moment.

"Nothing." He smiled.

The two shuttles landed without further noteworthy events and 
even Dimstar stopped pouting after been given the eye by one of 
the bay technicians.

Jolly flew back to the Galactica to get changed and fetch Giles. 
Aeon decided that he would look appropriate enough wearing his 
cadet uniform so he started towards to the Comet lounge with 
Apollo, Starbuck, Boomer and the Dimstar posse.

Dimstar kept practicing elegantly-bored facial expressions as 
they were making their way towards the bay elevators. Nobody 
talked much.

"I can't stay late." Dimstar confessed as the elevator doors 
closed. "I have to get my beauty sleep or I get wrinkles."

"That would be quite a tragedy." Starbuck rolled his eyes to 
Apollo. "We wouldn't want that to happen, now would we..."

"I thought so!" Dimstar beamed. "Considering it's your sealing 
ceremony and all..."

"I beg your pardon?" Starbuck turned to eye Dimstar, 
unfortunately not at all that surprised as he pretended to be. 
"What does being wrinkled have to do with any of that?"

"Well, you are going to film the event, aren't ya?" Dimstar 
raised one brow.

"Yeah..." Starbuck prolonged his word, still eyeing Dim.

"Well, that's just it!" Dimstar shrugged. "You wouldn't want me 
to look wrinkled in that video. Just think what your 
grandchildren would say..."

"Yeah!" Nicael agreed and then changed his voice to imitate a 
child. "Look grandpa! Who's that wrinkled man in the video..."

"I'm not that wrinkled!"

"Well, not now but if you don't sleep..."

There was a cling and the elevator doors opened.

"I can't take this any more." Starbuck mumbled to Apollo when 
they stepped out. "If that superstar doesn't disappear from my 
life in the next couple of microns I'm going to strangle him!"

"Calm down Starbuck." Apollo smiled. "They'll be leaving the 
fleet tomorrow. 
How much harm can they do before that..."

"You really wanna know?" Starbuck raised one brow.

The short corridor that led to the Comet lounge was decorated 
with silvery metal and purple velvet. Small lava lamps were 
hanging from the ceiling, all different shades and colors. The 
carved glass doors at the end of the hallway started sliding open 
and revealed a silver decorated lounge, packed with people 
dressed in their finest colonial party gear. Thunderous music 
greeted Starbuck and the others as they stepped in, Starbuck 
grimaced and covered his ears.

"Do you really wanna do this?" Starbuck shouted into at Apollo.

"What?" Apollo glanced up.

"The bachelor party." Starbuck yelled. "Do you really want to 
stay here!?”

"Not really." Apollo mouthed, his voice drowning in the drum-
machine solo. "But I think we owe it to Boomer. After all, he did 
go through a lot of trouble arranging this..."

"Arranging what?" Starbuck shouted. "Didn't he just tell us that 
he hasn't 
organized anything..."

"What are you guys talking about?" Boomer detached his gaze from 
a go-go boy with a blue wig and a three-metron dancing stick. 
"Organized what?"

"How about it Boomer." Starbuck grinned. "Are you feeling like a 
party animal!?"

"What?" Boomer's brows popped up.

"What Starbuck is trying to ask in his delightfully polite way is 
that are you still willing to spend the night in this place 
after..."

"Not really...." Boomer was humming to the music.

"Great! That solves it." Starbuck beamed.

"But I think we should at least toast you guys getting sealed 
tomorrow..."

"Oh." Starbuck grin froze.

"...And you can always take advantage of this situation and waste 
a couple of cubits on a pyramid game or two..."

The grin returned. "You're right Boomie. Perhaps we really should 
toast the special occasion..."

Boomer paused humming and turned to look at Starbuck, an all-
knowing smirk on his face.

"And here I was thinking that you already had enough of all the 
boogie-woogie for one night..."

"Hey, the three morons..." Starbuck realized that the Dimstar 
posse weren't anywhere around. "Where the hell did they go...?"

"Miss them already?" Apollo grinned.

"Hell, we shouldn't have let those guys out of our sight." 
Starbuck panted. "They might find their way to the Rising Star 
control bridge..."

A door banging open somewhere made them all turn.

"GET THE FRACK AWAY FROM MY KITCHEN!" a furious, red-faced chef 
was dragging Nicael by the ear and shoved him into the Comet 
lounge, making him stumble.

"I wasn't going to steal anything!" Nicael looked up innocently.

"Sure you weren't!" The chef screamed. "Not only did I find you 
with you hands dipped in my shrimp soup all the way to your 
elbows but..."

"Give the guy a break!" Dimstar followed the chef and Nicael out 
the kitchen door, watching the course of events with intrigue. 
"He didn't know what that pot was for..."

"WHAT ABOUT MY PINKBERRIES! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD IT IS 
TO GET PINKBERRIES AT THIS TIME OF YEAR!..."

"I'm sure Oscar is sorry..."

"No I'm not." Oscar was grinning behind Dimstar. "They were 
bloody tasty!"

"THIS IS... THIS IS..."

"What?" Dimstar eyed the chef with curiosity.

"AN OUTRAGE!!" The chef turned, went back into the kitchen and 
slammed the door demonstratively behind him.

"Frack!" Nicael frowned. "I dropped one of my fake lashes in that 
shrimp soup.
Oh hi!" Dimstar noticed Apollo and the others. "Really bad 
customer service on this ship..."

"Would you guys mind behaving normally for even a couple of 
centons." Starbuck was shaking his head with amazement.

"We are behaving normally." Nicael glanced at Starbuck like the 
man was a retard or something. "What's your point?"

"Why don't we go to the bar." Starbuck sighed to Apollo and 
Boomer. "I think I need something to drink."

"Good idea." Boomer grinned and together with Apollo and Aeon, 
they started pushing their way through the crowd.

Dimstar, Nicael and Oscar followed Starbuck and the others for 
about a metron or two but then lost them from view.

Suddenly Oscar stopped, completely paralyzed. He had never seen 
such allure.

The woman walking towards him had black hair, mildly flowing in 
the air conditioning. People around her seemed to give her way, 
at least it looked like that to Oscar who knew he would never 
again notice anyone else but that lady from heaven.

What mesmerizing beauty! Such incredible grace! The scar across 
the left eyebrow even intensified the rough delicacy of that 
inconceivable creature. Oscar sighed. That woman was dynamite! 
Oscar held his breath as he took his first, hesitant step. Then 
he was already running. The lady started running towards Oscar. 
Then, somewhere in the middle of Comet lounge, amongst a crowd of 
indifferent people who knew nothing about love, Oscar and the 
mystery woman jumped into each others arms.

* * *

Starbuck, Apollo, Boomer and Aeon had made their way to the bar 
and were waiting to get their drinks when Starbuck noticed a 
familiar face.

"Hey, that's the man that sold me the VX-camera." Starbuck 
pointed towards a man in a Garcini suit who was holding his arm 
around the shoulder of a younger man with ridiculous earrings and 
a conceited smile. Harry Clifford and his new protégée were 
giving an interview to the IFB 
Musical Observer.

"Why hidden anarchy mister Kent?" A black-haired woman shoved the 
microphone right under Kent's nose. "Why not be open about it?"

Kent smiled like a cat after having a bowl of cream. "I want my 
songs to be heard by everyone, Miss..." Kent leaned a little 
closer to the woman to take a look at the badge on her chest. 
"...Seline."

The woman smiled coldly.

"You see... Seline...If I were to express everything I wanted in 
my songs, they would surely be banned from a couple of ships in 
the fleet. Like the Piscean for example. And I don't want that to 
happen, you see, I'm all for freedom of expression and if I 
express myself a little more delicately, You know, in a hidden 
way, I won't be censored!"

"That's not quite..."

"Yes it is!" Kent raised his brow a little irritated. "It's 
freedom of speech in a secretly anarchistic way."

"Mister Kent!" A man with orange sunglasses and a pill-box hat 
lifted his hand to get a chance to ask his question. "Mister 
Kent. How do you plead to the accusations of practicing sadism 
and sexual cruelty to animals?"

"That is just total feldercarb." Kent snorted. "I would never do 
anything they wouldn't want me to do."

"So, you are sexually attracted to animals then mister Kent."

"No, I'm not attracted to them. I just use them for sex."

"When will you release your first album Mr. Kent?" A red-haired 
woman raised her voice. "Are you expecting it to be a success?"

"We haven't quite finished the mixing process yet." Harry 
Clifford smiled charmingly. "But believe me ladies and gentlemen, 
you will be the first to know..."

"Do you use any illegal substances Mr. Kent?" The man with orange 
sunglasses lifted his hand again. "Weren't you arrested for 
smoking doparellos in a public turbowashroom..."

"Where do you get this stuff." Kent shook his head with 
disbelief. "Of course not! All I do is drink ambrosa and shoot a 
little dekar every now and then for relaxation, that's all!"

"What about the three underage boys that were found OD'ed in your 
turbotub..."

"Hey, where did you hear that from..."

"I think that is quite enough ladies and gentlemen." Harry 
Clifford took a step forward and pushed Kent back. "We appreciate 
you taking your time and coming here. And as I said before, as 
soon as we know more details about the release of the album, you 
will be the first to know. Now that you everyone and we hope you 
enjoy the rest of your night here on the Rising Star. Thank 
you..."

Harry Clifford's pleasant smile was from one ear to the other.

Starbuck stopped listening and turned towards Apollo and Boomer.

"What do you guys say we make our way to the gambling decks. I 
wouldn't mind a game or two..."

"Hey, there's Giles!" Boomer noticed. "And Jolly! Glad you could 
make it guys!"

"Wouldn't have missed this for the world." Giles grinned. "Can 
you believe it! Starbuck the sworn bachelor and formerly the most 
famous womanizer in the fleet is getting married."

"You couldn't have found a better man!" Jolly beamed, then 
noticed the glance from Giles. "Well, after Giles of course." 
Jolly completed with a grin. Giles started smiling satisfied.

"So, what's the plan gentlemen?" Giles' eyes lingered on Boomer 
and the others. "Which one of us is going to be floating in 
space?..."

"Boomer decided that there won't be any traditional stuff." 
Starbuck informed. "We're just going a have a couple of drinks 
and that's it. Besides, we are kinda tired after a shuttle flight 
from hell."

"Yeah." Giles shook his head. "Jolly told me about it. Must've 
been pretty horrible, huh..."

"Hey..." Jolly touched Giles' arm. "Look who's here..."

Giles and the others turned. Giles' face darkened.

"He sure didn't waste any time, did he." Giles' stared at Kadeem, 
lost in a passionate kiss with a guy that looked like a wally.

"Errr... Neither did you buddy." Boomer mumbled unclearly, making 
sure Giles didn't hear him.

"Frack! That's one of the qualified morons!" Starbuck gasped, 
realizing that the man in Kadeem's arms was Oscar. "That's the 
one who needs other people's eyeglasses!"

"He doesn't need them." Apollo specified amused. "He just can't 
find his own."

Giles wasn't listening to what Starbuck and Apollo were saying. 
With a disapproving expression on his face, he kept eyeing at the 
two men that were now disengaging from the embrace but remaining 
close to one another, staring into each others' eyes. Giles' 
couldn't believe Kadeem had such low standards. "Just...Look at 
that guy! Look at those fatigue trousers and that fake army 
shirt! Look at..."

"Believe me..." Starbuck knew, thinking about the pictures he had 
seen of Oscar with his animal style in 'Zound'. "...the guy could 
do a lot worse!"

Oscar was completely lost in Kadeem's eyes, still finding it so 
hard to believe he had just found the woman of his dreams.

"My love." Oscar panted. "Where have you been all my life?"

Kadeem smiled seductively. "Well, most of your life I've been a 
man... I think..."
"I'm so glad you're a woman now." Oscar's heart was racing with 
joy. Then he realized he was carrying a horrible secret that 
could completely destroy this perfect relationship that was just 
beginning.

Kadeem noticed the change on Oscar's face. "What is it, my sweet 
prince?"

Oscar took a deep breath. Okay, here we go... "There's something 
I have to tell you."

"I'm listening." Kadeem's face was sympathetic.

Oscar hesitated, then let it out of his mouth. A relationship 
like this could not be built on secrets.

"I'm actually dead." Oscar confessed.

"Oh yeah." Kadeem remembered. "I've heard about that stuff."

"I'm not allowed to stay on the fleet." Oscar continued with a 
lump in his throat. "Me and my mates, we are forced to leave 
tomorrow..."

"That's no problem." Kadeem smiled warmly. "I'm coming with you. 
I don't mind. Staying with all these colonials that know me..." 
Kadeem sighed. "...I would only feel like half the woman I am. 
With you I can finally start the new life I've been dreaming 
about."

"We have no idea what the future holds." Oscar's eyes were gazing 
into Kadeem's. "After tomorrow, there will only be the unknown to 
discover."

"Sounds like an adventure. I've always wanted to have one..."

"I can't fly without my eyeglasses..."

"I don't care..."

"I'll never die unless someone kills me." Oscar concluded, 
spreading his arms to symbolize his powerlessness. "And I'll 
never grow old."

"Great!" Kadeem's sympathetic smile turned to a naughty grin. 
"Then you're gonna stay young and virile for the rest of my 
life..."

"Lucky bastard." Giles frowned and looked away from Kadeem and 
Oscar. He grabbed Jolly's hand.

"Come on Sugarbutts. Let's get something to eat."

Yeah." Jolly grinned. "I have to get back to my old measurements 
before the ceremony. See you guys tomorrow..."

Starbuck, Apollo and Boomer watched Giles and Jolly vanishing 
into the crowd.
"Bye Sugarbutts." Starbuck smirked.

Apollo poked him with his elbow.

The music seemed to become louder. The pulsating rhythm was 
forcing the heart to start beating with synchronicity. Starbuck, 
Boomer, Apollo and Aeon were lost in their own thoughts for a 
while, just watching the partying going on around them and hoping 
that the music wouldn't make them deaf.

Starbuck yawned. "What do you guys say if we called it a night."

"We haven't toasted to your eternal happiness yet." Boomer said 
sarcastically, making Starbuck give him a little glance. A wary 
one.

"What is it buddy?..."

"Nothing." Boomer forced the shadows away. "I'm just a little 
tired...It's been a long night..."

"It sure has." Starbuck grinned lightly, but his eyes lingered on 
Boomer for perhaps a fraction too long. "Let's just leave all the 
toasting for tomorrow. I think we've...

The lights went off.

"Oh no! Not again!" Starbuck frowned.

"Why do I feel like I'm having a deja-vu." Boomer mumbled, 
suddenly realizing that the music had stopped and his low murmurs 
were sounding ear-splitting.
"Shit." He mouthed.

"No swearing in the lounge please!" A piqued voice rose from the 
darkness. 
"There are religious people in the room..."

"Will someone please turn on the lights please!" An irritated 
woman's voice came from somewhere. "And you who is standing next 
to me, can you please stop standing on my toes..."

"What's going on?" A man's drunken drawl. "Have we hit 
something?"

"It's the cylons!" Someone panted. "They're attacking!! We are 
doomed!!"

"Oh no, not you again!"

"What do you mean not me again! How do you know who I am? It's 
dark!"

"You're the same goddamn hysterical lunatic that was clinging 
onto me the last time there was a blackout!"

"Hey I'm not clinging onto anything!"

"Yeah well, what's this then?"

"Get your hands the frack off my family jewels!!"

"Who are you?"

"Well, obviously not the person you thought I'd be!"

"How would you know who I'd have thought you might have been?"

"Shut the frack up before I shoot you all! I have a gun!!"

Everyone started screaming in panic and pushing each other. Yells 
of help filled the air as people were being crushed and stumbled 
on.

There was a loud bang, causing people to panic even more.

"What was that? What the frack was that?" A woman started 
screaming frantically.

"Well what do you think idiot! We are being fired on!" Someone 
panted. "It's the crazy person with the gun!!

"I lied! I don't have a gun! Calm down!!"

"He's gonna shoot! Run!!"

"People, please..."

"It's the same killer as the last time! He's gonna peel all our 
faces off!!"

"With that gun?"

"No! He's gonna shoot us and then peel our faces off!"

"Well what does it matter then if we'll already be dead..."

"ARE YOU CRAZY?!..."

"LET ME OUT OF HERE!!"

"STOP PUSHING!!!!"

The lights came on. Everyone started looking around frantically 
to spot the body.

Kent was leaning against the wall near the staff doors, facing 
the crowd and looking guilty as frack for being caught with his 
hand on the light switch. "Sorry folks!" He grinned blushed. "I 
kinda just wanted to see what would happen..."

Dimstar was standing amongst the crowd, eyeing Kent enviously. 
Who the frack had given that guy a permission to steal all the 
attention...

"I think I've had enough excitement for one night." Starbuck let 
out a deep breath. "Why don't we just leave all the toasting for 
tomorrow and retire to our quarters to get a good sleep-cycle's 
sleep. I know I could use some of that..."

"Good idea." Boomer agreed. "The next shuttle to the Galactica 
will be due in ten centons."

"Great." Apollo smiled. "Let's just hope it won't be hijacked..."

"Or otherwise flown by a qualified moron." Starbuck grinned, 
taking Apollo's hand and starting to lead him towards the exit of 
the Comet lounge.

Boomer followed them but Aeon remained put. Hesitating.

Apollo turned. "You comin'?"

"No, I think I'll stay here for a little longer." Aeon smiled. 
"I'm not really tired and I think I saw a couple of people that I 
know..."

Apollo detached his hand from Starbuck's and walked to Aeon.

For a little while the two men didn't say anything. They just 
stood there in silence, gazing into each others' eyes. Apollo 
reached out and pulled Aeon into an embrace, so much yearning to 
kiss him but knowing he wouldn't. 

Starbuck's fingernails were digging into his palms as he was 
trying to ignore the agony in his heart.

It seemed to last forever. The embrace of those two beautiful 
men. Then Apollo moved away softly, still holding on to Aeons 
arms. There were tears of pain in Aeon's eyes, no matter how hard 
he had tried to fight them.

"I don't love you Apollo." Aeon whispered, choking.

"I know." Apollo softly touched Aeon cheek, then closed his eyes 
to escape the beauty that was so hard to fight against. Yes, 
beauty was so much more dangerous and destroying than anything 
else. You would always exist in its shadow.

Apollo turned and walked to Starbuck, starting to lead him away. 
Without looking back, the three men exited the comet lounge.

Aeon stared after them for a long time before finally giving in 
to emptiness.

* * *

They didn't have to wait long for the shuttle to leave for the 
Galactica and the fifteen-centon flight was (thank Sagans) 
uneventful. Starbuck almost fell asleep in Apollo's arms.

On the way towards the quarters Starbuck suddenly came to think 
about something that made him let out a devoted frack.

"What?" Apollo glanced at him. "You better not have forgotten 
your keys on 
the Star or something.

Starbuck turned to look at Apollo, meeting the other man's eyes 
with an apologetic grin.

"You can't come in the quarters!"

"I beg your pardon!?" Apollo's jaw dropped.

"We can't spend the night together!" Starbuck swallowed. "It's 
not right!"

"Starbuck, what the hell are you talking about..."

"You have to go and sleep in Adama's quarters, or on the couch in 
the officers' lounge..."

"Okay, if this is a joke, it's a bad one!"

"I'm not kidding Apollo. We really shouldn't be spending this 
night together!"

Apollo stared at Starbuck. "Excuse me but, when the hell did you 
become the blushing virgin..."

Starbuck groaned. "Oh come on! That's not what I'm talking 
about!"

"Well it sure as hell sounds like that to me..."

"It's not traditional Apollo. The groom and the groom can't spend 
the night together the sleep cycle before the sealing..."

"Okay." Apollo rolled his eyes. "if you feel so damn traditional, 
we don't have to make love if you don't want to. We can always 
just sleep or go and steal Omega's Barbies and..."

"It's not just that." Starbuck tried to explain. "You can't be in 
the quarters tomorrow morning! The groom is not supposed to see 
the other groom's sealing clothes before the ceremony!"

"Starbuck!" Apollo frowned with devotion. "I've seen you in your 
dress uniform a billion times!!"

"Not on my sealing day you haven't..."

"Okay Starbuck, if it's that important to you then why don't you 
go and sleep on the officers' club couch??"

"Because..."

Starbuck paused. The vision of that officers' lounge couch was 
floating in front of him. The gray pillows and the...

"What the heck!" Starbuck tossed his hand. "You're right! To hell 
with tradition!..."

Apollo yawned and started digging into his pockets for the key as 
they were approaching the door to their quarters.

"We still have..." Apollo glanced at his timepiece. "...six 
centars left to sleep before we have to get up tomorrow."

"Six!?" Starbuck raised one eyebrow. "Excuse me buddy, but you 
won't be dragging me up at eight in the morning. The sealing 
doesn't even start until ten!"

"Suit yourself dear." Apollo shook his head. "But you better not 
be late for my sealing."

"I'll bet you three cubits I'll be all prepared and ready long 
before you are!"

"It's a deal." Apollo smirked. "I don't mind becoming three 
cubits richer on the day that I get sealed.

"Apollo..." Starbuck began. "I've been pondering about 
something..."

"The color of the socks you're gonna wear tomorrow?"

"About why Aeon wasn't killed. After all, he was the chosen one 
and all, always spending time with the other awakened ones. Why 
was he left alive??"

"Oh please!" Apollo pressed his fingers to his temples. "I 
thought we made a deal NEVER to mention those awakened ones and 
their legend any more!"

"Just this once." Starbuck grinned. "I don't think I can sleep if 
I don't get some kind of an answer. It's been on my mind since we 
met the old man with the sausages..."

"Okay, here's what I think." Apollo sighed. "Aeon wasn't to be 
killed for exactly that reason: He was the chosen one. No one was 
allowed to touch him other than the so-called awakers."

Starbuck played with that thought for a centon, then turned to 
Apollo and smiled. "Yeah, I think I can live with that 
explanation. Now we can finally forget about the legend of Orion 
forever and ever."

"No complaints on me!" Apollo grinned. "And tomorrow when we 
finally send Dimstar and his mates on their way, we will never 
again have to meet another awakened one for as long as we live."

"Absolutely..."

Apollo and Starbuck reached the door to their quarters and Apollo 
pushed his key into the lock. There was a click and the door 
opened. Starbuck was the first one to step in and switch on the 
lights. He turned towards Apollo who had followed him inside and 
was closing the door.

"You know..."

"What?" Apollo glanced up. There was a funny look on Starbuck's 
face.

"I don't really feel like sleeping..."

"Didn't you just say how tired you were!"

"Yeah but, I'm much too excited to get any sleep. At least I 
think I am and... you know, the sealing and all tomorrow. There's 
a squadron of butterflies the size of battlestars in my stomach!"

"Do you want to get sealed to me Starbuck." There was sudden 
seriousness in Apollo's voice. Starbuck frowned and pulled Apollo 
into a loving hug.

"Do I really have to answer that question!! You should know by 
now that you mean more to me than anything else in the universe. 
Without you I don't exist!!"

"I love you too Starbuck!" Apollo's eyes were closed as he was 
leaning his head on Starbuck's shoulder.

"The only things that make me nervous about the sealing are minor 
details like am I going to stumble on my dress cape, will your 
father wear appropriate clothing for a priest, will Dimstar and 
the other qualified morons spoil everything by deciding to start 
navigating the Galactica, will Boomer lose the rings...all that 
stuff. I'm not in the least nervous about getting sealed to you 
Apollo. I love you more than life."

There was a moment's silence as both men were too happy to speak.

Then a smirk spread on Starbuck's face. He disengaged from the 
embrace and looked into Apollo's eyes.

"I have an idea..."

"You want to make love." Apollo smiled.

"Well, yeah..." Starbuck grinned. "But that wasn't quite the 
thing I had in mind right now..."

"Oh?" Apollo's expression turned surprised.

"Ummm..." Starbuck didn't quite know how to say this. He felt 
stupid as frack. "Do you remember that you mentioned something 
about stealing Omega's Barbies..."

"I was only kidding Starbuck!"

"But...why don't we! I can't sleep anyway and we could do a 
little sealing 
dress rehearsal with the Barbies..."

"Say no more." Apollo's eyes started shining. He grabbed 
Starbuck's hand and together they dashed out of the quarters and 
down the corridors towards the delta sector.

* * *

"What are you doing?" Starbuck whispered, intrigued by the funny 
little jingle noises echoing in the night-lit corridor.

"What do you think I'm doing! I'm trying to get this door open!" 
Apollo mumbled, not taking his eyes off the lock.

"No, I meant, How're you gonna do it?"

"I have Omega's key." Apollo grinned at the lock. "I stole it 
when I shot Omega and left the quarters. Just in case..."

"Why?" Starbuck eyed Apollo's back curiously.

"For Ultravox' sake."

"Who?"

The door opened. Apollo turned to give Starbuck a triumphant 
grin.

Together the men entered the quarters holding hands. Apollo 
closed the door and turned on the light. It felt weird being in 
that place again. Apollo couldn't help noticing that most of the 
faces were still on the walls. Only the rotting ones had been 
removed.

Apollo eyed around the place. Where was the damn toy box. What if 
it had been confiscated as a piece of evidence. No, there it was, 
under the bed. Apollo let out a relieved sigh. "Come." He took 
Starbuck's hand and led him to the box.
.
"Oh my god!" Starbuck gasped as he watched Apollo starting to 
pile the Barbies, Kens and supplementary material on the bed. 
"Look at that pink landram!... This is...this is unbelievable!"

"Wait until you see the fighters and the daggit!" Apollo grinned. 
"Or the orange ankle-length leather jacket one of the Kens is 
wearing..."

"I can't believe Omega has all this stuff!" Starbuck looked up at 
Apollo eyes wide. "How in the hell did he manage to save these 
when..."

"I think he must have had most of them stocked on the Galactica 
even when the colonies were still existing. There's no other 
way..."

"Let's stop speculating and get these things to our room before 
someone notices we're in here!" Starbuck started stuffing the 
Barbies and Kens into his pockets.

"Wait!"

"What?" Starbuck halted with a bunch of dolls in his hand.

"We can't take all of them! We have to choose the best ones!"

"Okay." Starbuck took the dolls out from his pockets again and 
placed them on the bed, letting his eyes linger on them. His gaze 
stopped on a Ken with blonde hair and a wild, self-confident 
grin, wearing a tight shirt and flared corduroy trousers. "I'll 
definitely take this one!" Starbuck grabbed the Ken like a plate 
of mushies.

"Oh, that's Luffe." Apollo realized and smiled. "It was Omega's 
favorite."

"Obviously the man had good taste." Starbuck grinned making 
Apollo frown.

"Obviously." Apollo mumbled. "He kidnapped me didn't he..."

Both men laughed, then Starbuck was back to holding his breath 
while eyeing the stuff on the bed.

"Well, it obviously goes without saying that we'll take most of 
the accessories." Starbuck's gaze lingered to the landram, the 
daggit and its nauseatingly cute puppies, the Capricorn... "Damn 
it, we should've brought a bag with us!"

"We can always come back." Apollo pointed out. "We don't have to 
take everything at once."

"Which one of these dolls are you gonna steal?" Starbuck looked 
up and noticed that Apollo's eyes were searching for something 
particular.

"Find it?"

Haaaa! A huge grin spread on Apollo's face as he spotted 
Ultravox.

"Yeah, I found it." Apollo's face shone as he picked up the Ken 
with the new-romantic hairstyle and make-up. Starbuck stared at 
it repulsed.

"What is that?"

"This, my dear Starbuck..." Apollo was grinning like a lunatic. 
"...is Ultravox."

"Oh?" Starbuck had never seen a more tasteless Ken. "What 
happened to its hair?"

"It's supposed to be that way!"

"Sheeeshh Appy! Why don't you take one of the better looking 
Kens? Here, like this one!" Starbuck picked up a Ken with nice 
curly hair and a charming smile. "Or this one!" (a Ken in a triad 
suit) Look at the muscles on its back..."

"No thanks." Apollo smiled, holding onto his doll like it was the 
most precious thing in the universe. "Me and Ultravox, we have a 
special bond..."

Starbuck decided it would be better to say nothing. He 
concentrated on the dolls on the bed again.

"Are we gonna take any of the Barbies?"

"Oh sure!" Apollo had already noticed the one he wanted. Oh, 
those familiar faces...

"This is Bridget." Apollo introduced it to Starbuck. "She might 
not be the classiest chick around but she's got character..."

"I don't know where you get these ideas..." Starbuck reached 
towards a Barbie with ridiculously long hair and big breasts. 
(Yeah yeah, I know what you're about say but this one had even 
bigger ones) and picked it up.

"You're gonna take that one?" Apollo eyed it with disbelief.

"Sure. She'll make a great warrior!"

"She's not gonna see anything from behind those breasts!"

Starbuck wasn't listening. He had noticed another fascinating 
thing on the bed.

"Oh my god!"

"What?" Apollo's gaze followed Starbuck's and spotted it. "Oh 
Sagan!"

Starbuck picked it up and held it against the light. There was 
something indeed strange in the way it was formed.

"Well, what do you know..."

"I can't believe they actually make those!" Apollo stared at the 
Ken that had genitals hanging all the way to its knees.

"Must be a counterblow to all the big-breasted Barbies!"

"Or some toymakers wet dream." Starbuck smirked.

"Shhhh!" Apollo was sure he had heard something. "We better get 
out of here."

"What is it?"

"I think someone's coming..."

"Here?" Starbuck arched his eyebrows. "Don't be ridiculous. Who'd 
want to..." Starbuck paused.

They both heard it now. Definitely footsteps behind the door. A 
click as a key was inserted into the lock.

"Quick!" Starbuck started filling his pockets with as many dolls 
and as possible.

Apollo shoved Bridget, Ultravox and a couple of other Barbies and 
Kens under his jacket.

"Turn off the lights!" Starbuck hissed to Apollo.

The door opened and a beam of light split the room in half, 
blinding Apollo and Starbuck who were crouching under the bed.

Heavy footsteps entered the room. Apollo could see a pair of 
steel-toed army boots.

He held his breath.

Those army boots started strolling around the room, halting next 
to the bed, right in front of Apollo's face.

"All right fellas!" A sudden growl lingered in the room, 
startling the frack out of Starbuck and Apollo. "I know you're 
hiding under that bed. You better come out of there before I call 
back up!"

"Don't shoot! We're coming..."

Grinning, embarrassed, Apollo and Starbuck lifted the hem of the 
bedspread and crawled into the glare from the flashlight.

"Captain Apollo!" The guard almost dropped his laser weapon. 
"What in heavens are you doing in here??"

"I came to pick up something I forgot." Apollo shielded his eyes 
from the light. 
"What are YOU doing here??"

"Oh, I'm here to keep the tourists away from the crime scene." 
The guard grinned. He noticed the bulging of Starbuck's jacket. 
"Hey, what've you got hidden in there? You're not supposed to 
take evidence from..."

"Me?" Starbuck looked innocent as hell. "I wouldn't dream of 
it..."

"Empty your pockets lieutenant!"

With a curse slipping from his lips, Starbuck turned and emptied 
his pockets onto the bed. The guard let out a whistle as he saw 
them.

"What exactly were you going to do with those?" The stared at the 
pile of Barbies.

"What do you think." Starbuck snarled. "Can we go now?"

Sure." The guard smiled. "Don't do it again."

Starbuck and Apollo started towards the door. Apollo was just 
beginning to believe he would actually succeed in stealing 
Ultravox when the guard suddenly stuck the pipe of his laser gun 
onto Apollo's back.

"Not so fast gentlemen!" The guard growled. "Put your hands were 
I can see them!"

Apollo cursed and raised his hands.
The damn jacket opened and all the toys he had been hiding 
underneath fell loudly to the floor. The guard whistled again.

"Captain!" The guard shook his head amazed. "What kind of example 
are you giving to our children..."

"I apologize." Apollo grinned. "Something just came over me. I 
couldn't help myself..."

"Yes..." The guard prolonged the word. "I know what you mean. 
That happens to me too occasionally when I'm having dinner. All 
right, I'm gonna let you off with a warning..."

"Thank you guard." Starbuck grinned. "I knew you were a 
gentleman!"

"Don't do it again or..."

"We won't!" Starbuck promised as he and Apollo started to run 
down the hallway towards their quarters.

The guard walked to the door after them and peeked out. He cast a 
long look towards both directions of the hallway, then pulled his 
head back in and closed the door. The guard returned to the pile 
of dolls Apollo had left on the floor, bent down and picked them 
up, carrying them to the pile of toys on the bed.

Taking one more look around, just to make sure that there were no 
witnesses, the guard started to stuff Barbies and Kens under his 
coat.

* * *

Starbuck was cuddled up in Apollo's arms. Tired, disappointed 
about the Barbies but happy as frack to be right where he was, 
Starbuck lifted his head and kissed Apollo on the cheek. A smile 
formed on Apollo's face and he turned his head to look at 
Starbuck.

The men kissed again, this time on the lips. A long, gentle kiss 
that lasted forever and ever. In the warmness under the blanket, 
there fingers were entwined together. Their hearts too.

Starbuck fell asleep with a smile on his face.

***

Chapter Five

Caiari Moonfall. Day 10.

The sealing.

Starbuck didn't want to open his eyes quite yet. He wanted to 
keep on believing that it was a sun shining through the windows 
that felt so warm on his face. He wanted to keep looking at those 
birds in bright feathers, circling in front of the sun, singing 
about the light that was coloring the world in spectral glow. The 
wings of those birds were touching Starbuck's face like the 
breeze, carrying away all the darkness that had once been hiding 
in his heart.
Starbuck heard footsteps approaching. He smiled.

"Wake up sweet prince." Apollo knelt beside the bed and kissed 
Starbuck gently on the lips.

"I love you Apollo." A beautiful smile kept lingering on 
Starbuck's face but he still didn't want to open his eyes. He 
wanted to feel the sun. "I'll be up in a micron..."

"Don't be too long." Apollo softly blew the shaggy hair away from 
Starbuck's forehead. "I have breakfast prepared."

"This is too perfect." Starbuck whispered. "I don't deserve you."

"You deserve all the happiness in the world." Apollo smiled. "I'm 
so glad it is you who are a part of me."

Starbuck opened his eyes. The sun was real. He couldn't believe 
it.

"Oh my god! Where are we??" Starbuck gasped and sat up like a 
laser beam. "Have we landed somewhere while I was sleeping?!"

"No." Apollo was caressing Starbuck's cheek. "This is the Xilrian 
system. According to the bridge log data we entered it last 
night."

"Have you been to the bridge already?" Starbuck's eyes lingered 
away from the window to Apollo.

"No, but I had a call from Adama earlier. He wanted to give me 
the good news..."

"What good news?"

"We are getting sealed in the light of the Xilrian sun." Apollo 
smiled. "The most beautiful star in the universe."

Starbuck's amazed eyes lingered back to the light shining from 
the window.

It was not merely light, it was a completeness of colors, filling 
the room like a prism. Starbuck had never seen anything so 
breathtakingly exquisite in his entire life. (Well, except Apollo 
of course but that goes without saying.)

"I have never been this happy." Starbuck's gaze returned to 
Apollo and drowned in those blue eyes. He lifted his hand and 
touched Apollo's face. "You are making the world perfect."

"Come on and get up from the bed before you make me cry." 
Apollo's smile was more than radiant. "I don't want my eyes to be 
all red and puffy when I'm standing on the altar."

The men kissed once more before Apollo disappeared back into the 
kitchen.

Starbuck stretched and yawned, then climbed off the bed and 
walked to fetch his robe from the back of a chair. The sunlight 
felt so warm on his body.

"Finally." Apollo looked up as Starbuck entered the kitchen. "I 
was beginning to think I would have to carry you to the bridge if 
I wanted you to be there in time."

"That doesn't sound that bad." Starbuck grinned and took a chair 
to sit down. "This smells really good darling. You shouldn't have 
done this..."

"Don't expect me to make a habit out of this." Apollo smirked. 
"You won't turn me into a house husband who prepare all your 
meals for you and rubs your back when you come back from patrol."

"I would never expect you to." Starbuck smiled. "As long as you 
wash my socks, clean the quarters, buy all the groceries, take 
the daggit out when we're gonna get one, change the diapers if we 
decide to have one of doctor Wilker's drone-womb babies, fill out 
the tax form once a yahren..."

"Start eating your breakfast Starbuck." Apollo frowned. "So I 
won't have to listen to all that feldercarb..."

Leaning against the pantry door, Apollo poured the rest of his 
coffee into his throat and placed the cup into the sink. He 
walked to Starbuck to give him a kiss before heading to the 
turbowashroom to take a turbowash.

Starbuck reached for the Military Morning Herald that was on the 
table, opened it and started eyeing the news headlines while 
sipping his coffee and slowly eating honey-plated K-biscuits. His 
favorite after honey-covered tulipian buds.

A smile spread on Starbuck's face as he heard Apollo starting to 
sing in the turbowash.

Quickly he flipped through the rest of the paper, finished his 
coffee that had already gotten cold and stretched again 
sensuously before getting up from the table.

Starbuck peeled off his robe on his way to the turbowashroom. 
Without making any sound, he sneaked in, pulled open the 
turbowash curtain and stepped into the tub, embracing Apollo from 
behind, startling the man.

With a huge grin on his face Apollo turned to face Starbuck, 
surrendering to what he saw in the beautiful man's eyes. When 
they finished making love, the turbowashroom was dripping wet all 
over.

* * *

Half a centar later when Apollo was almost fully dressed, 
Starbuck was still running around the quarters in his underwear 
and curlers in his fringe.

"Where is the damn shaving kit!" Starbuck mumbled, frantically 
going through the drawers and cupboards in the turbowashroom. "I 
can't find it anywhere!!"

"I haven't touched your stuff, Starbuck." Apollo was brushing his 
hair in front of the bedroom mirror. "I have my own shaving 
equipment..."

"I'm not talking about the razor..." Starbuck frowned. "I mean 
the razor I shave my legs with! It's gone!"

"It's right here on the bedroom dresser where you last left it."

Starbuck flew to the bedroom.

"Thank god you found it! I was beginning to fear I would have to 
go to my own sealing with my legs looking like the jungle on 
Cerigta!"

"I don't think anyone would've noticed." Apollo smiled amused. 
"It's not like you wearing a dress or anything."

"Yeah but I'd still know that there's a jungle inside my 
trousers!"

"Go and shave your legs Starbuck."

Starbuck vanished from the bedroom leaving Apollo eyeing himself 
in the mirror, carefully scrutinizing his hair. There were still 
a couple of stubborn locks that kept sticking in the wrong 
direction. Apollo sighed capitulatingly. Fine. There was nothing 
more to be done.

He put the brush back on the dresser and took the dress medallion 
to fasten it around his neck. Then those three colonial insignias 
and the captain's badge...

Apollo studied his reflection and wondered what a man like 
Starbuck could possibly see in a man like him. Starbuck had 
finished shaving and returned to the bedroom, still wearing those 
curlers. He stopped to admire Apollo through the mirror.

"You look strikingly handsome darling." Starbuck smiled. "I'm 
gonna have to spend my sealing ceremony protecting you from 
hormonally hyped-up guests..."

"Look at my hair Starbuck!" Apollo frowned. "The only guy that is 
going to be chasing me is the hair police!"

"I think those persistent little locks make you look irresistibly 
cute." Starbuck smirked. "But if you really want to get rid of 
them, why don't you just wear a viper helmet for fifteen centons. 
A guaranteed result..."

"Starbuck, what are you still doing half naked!!" Apollo turned. 
"We have to be on the bridge in half a centar!"

"No problem." Starbuck grinned and walked to the closet to fetch 
his dress uniform. "It'll take me a couple of centons to get this 
baby on..."

"For Sagan's sake Bucky!" Apollo started coughing dramatically as 
Starbuck passed him. 

"Haven't you exaggerated the aftershave thing just a little!"

"Shit. You think I should wash it off..."

"You have no time Starbuck! I'll just have to wear a clothespin 
on my nose at the altar..."

"Very funny." Starbuck started pulling on the trousers. Then 
breathed in his stomach and turned sideways to look at himself in 
the mirror. "You think I look fat in these..."

"Oh please!" Apollo rolled his eyes. "You've got the best-looking 
arse in the fleet!"

Starbuck studied his butt in silence for a while, then his face 
turned into a grin. "Yeah, you must be right..."

Apollo tried to hit Starbuck with a towel but missed.

Starbuck was still smirking as he continued putting on his tunic, 
the dress cape and the dress medallion. Then he spread his arms 
posingly and grinned at Apollo. "Here. I'm ready. Feast your eyes 
on this..."

Apollo shook his head with disbelief. "How in heavens did I ever 
fall in love with someone so modest."

Starbuck laughed. He swung around, enjoying the flow of his dress 
cape and then walked to Apollo to offer him his arm. "Shall we 
go, sweet prince?"

Apollo's amused gaze lingered to the curlers on Starbuck's 
fringe. "Aren't you forgetting something..."

"Shit!" Starbuck hand flew to his hair and he hurried back to the 
turbowashroom. Apollo glanced at his timepiece.

Suddenly a scream of horror filled the apartment and a very pale-
faced Starbuck stumbled to the bedroom doorway. Apollo tried not 
to laugh as he saw the curls on Starbuck's fringe.

"The viper helmet might help..." He smirked.

"I can't leave the quarters looking like this!" Starbuck was 
horrified. 

"These are worse than Cassiopeia's!..."

"Calm down Starbuck." Apollo sniggered. "You just go and splatter 
some water on your fringe and comb it..."

"My hair will be wet!"

"Use the hair dryer..."

"I'll be right back!" Starbuck's curls vanished from the doorway.

A few centons later a completely renewed Starbuck returned to the 
bedroom and walked to Apollo to offer him his arm for the second 
time.

"Shall we?"

"We shall." Apollo grinned radiantly and took a hold of Starbuck 
by the arm.

Surrounded by a cloud of spice-scented aftershave, the two 
handsome men left their quarters to become eternally one.

* * *

"Where are the damn rice buckets?! " Tigh was hurrying everywhere 
at the same time, nervous as frack about the arrangements on the 
bridge: the music, the flowers, the catering, the red carpet...

"Calm down Tigh before you have a heart attack." Adama was 
standing in front of the bridge windshield, glaring his 
reflection and trying to fit into the priest's cape. It was too 
damn tight and the silky collar was strangling him.

"I hate this garment..." Adama mumbled to Tigh and received a 
disapproving glance from one of the virgins of the temple of 
chastity, who had consecrated their lives to the lords of Kobol. 
Those virgins were acting as bridesmaids in most sealings and 
this was no exception.

"They're coming!" Sheba turned and hissed from the bridge doorway 
with a huge grin on her face. Quickly she trotted back to Rigel 
to take her position as the other maid of honor.

The bouquet of anemones went nicely with Sheba's white dress, 
freshly-shaved head and pierced eyebrow. Rigel was wearing a 
powder-blue dress and the famous princess Lea hairstyle.

There was a moment of ultimate hassle on the bridge as all the 
guests wanted to take the best positions to see the happy couple 
entering. Then the whole place fell into excited silence.

* * *

"...I have a pebble in one of my boots." Starbuck's voice 
lingered from the corridor outside. "Wait a centon..."

The footsteps ceased for a moment. Everyone could hear Starbuck 
taking off his boot, shaking it and putting it back on.

"That's better." Starbuck grinned. "Are you sure my fringe isn't 
returning to the way it was? I can feel those curls coming 
back..."

"There's nothing wrong with your hair Starbuck." Apollo mumbled.

"Here we go." Starbuck squeezed Apollo's hand nervously. "Why is 
it so silent in there?..."

"Perhaps we're too early." Apollo speculated. "What time is it?"

"Five centons to 10.00." Starbuck glanced at the timepiece. "Are 
you sure the sealing was supposed to begin at 10?"

"You were there when the details were being set..."

"I don't see anyone." Starbuck eyed the approaching entrance 
suspiciously. "Are you sure this is the right day..."

Starbuck and Apollo stepped onto the bridge, finding themselves 
surrounded by cheers, congratulations and happy smiles. Apollo 
gasped as his eyes lingered around the bridge.

There were white orchids everywhere. Big ones, small ones, 
ridiculously huge ones...all over the place. The scent of those 
flowers almost intoxicating. The sun of Xilrian was shining 
through the windows, it's light dancing on the petals of those 
white flowers, creating rainbows on white-painted walls and the 
ceiling...

Apollo laughed with delight. He turned towards Starbuck but 
halted half-way, suddenly noticed something that made the joy on 
his heart and on his lips turn into a shocked stare.

"Hi." Omega, who was standing near the control computer, waved 
his hand to him. "Nice day for a white sealing isn't it."

Apollo stared at Omega horrified. Then he turned towards Adama, 
opening and shutting his mouth like a fish on dry land. No words 
came out. Adama smiled understandingly.

"Calm down son." Adama walked to Apollo and put his hand on his 
shoulder. "He's not Omega. He's Omega the android. I asked doctor 
Wilker to build me one!"

"Really?" Apollo still felt his hands shaking. His eyes lingered 
back to Omega the android.

"My god it looks real." Apollo panted. "Were you trying to give 
me a heart attack on my sealing day..."

Adama turned to scrutinize the drone. "Naah." He judged. "I think 
it looks a little too much like Muffit to be taken for a real 
guy."

"Oh?" Apollo turned to give Adama a surprised look.

"Yeah, I think it's the eyes." Adama pondered.

Sheba got tired of waiting.

"I can't believe you guys are getting sealed." She rushed to give 
a hug to first Apollo and Starbuck. "What happened to your motto 
Bucky..."

"I decided it was total feldercarb!" Starbuck grinned. "You 
look...errr...different. When did you shave your head?"

"This morning." Sheba beamed. "I did it all for you guys. The 
shaving and the piercing. Just for you!"

"We're honored." Starbuck raised one eyebrow. "Why?"

"To look good in your sealing ceremony of course!" Sheba poked 
Starbuck in the stomach playfully. "Wait until you see the 
turbocycle I bought."

"For us?" Starbuck freaked.

"Of course not, you turd." Sheba frowned. "For myself! It's a 
spaceturbo with carved handles and 54 cylinder thrusters. A real 
beauty!"

"I'm sure..."

"Hello beautiful." Apollo hugged Rigel back. "Nice hairstyle. 
Very chic indeed..."

"Thanks!" Rigel smiled to Apollo. "And congratulations! I'm very 
happy for you..."
She turned to Starbuck. "You daggit! I always thought it would be 
Cassiopeia you'd get sealed to some day..."

"And I always thought you had a crush on Omega." Starbuck 
smirked. "Funny how we make mistakes isn't it..."

"I'm so happy for you son!" There were tears in Adama's eyes as 
he grabbed Apollo into a fatherly embrace. "I wish you and 
Starbuck all the happiness in the universe!"

"Thank you father." Apollo beamed. "I'm sure me and Starbuck will 
be just as happy as you and Tigh are..."

"I love you son..."

"I love you too father..."

"Such a shame that Boxey's got the measles and couldn't be here 
today..."

"Such a shame indeed." Apollo smiled.

Adama squeezed his son's shoulder, then turned and reached out to 
pull Starbuck into a hug too.
"Take care of my baby boy for me..."

"I will commander." Starbuck coughed.

"And now that we are finally about to become a family..." Adama 
grinned. "...why don't you start calling me father."

"I will... uh...father."

Muffit, who was a guest in the ceremony without Boxey gave two 
cheerful barks making everyone grin. Muffy jumped and made a very 
clumsy somersault in the air.

Someone cleared his throat behind Adama. "Commander, I hope you 
are not going to steal the happy couple all to yourself!..."

"Tigh, I'm so happy you could make it." Apollo grinned as Tigh 
opened his arms and embraced him. "What's this perfume you're 
wearing?..."

"It's called 'The woman in me'." Tigh smiled as he let Apollo go. 
The one thousand two hundred and fifty bracelets he was wearing 
were jingling cheerfully.

Starbuck could hardly take his eyes off those bracelets.

"You know I wish you all the best, don't you son." Someone 
pinched Starbuck's cheek, making him turn. Chameleon was in front 
of him, sitting in a wheel-chair.

"Thank you...uh...father." Starbuck replied politely. "Would you 
mind not doing that please..."

"Do what?" Chameleon asked with eyes wide.

"Pinch my cheek." Starbuck smiled a little irritated.

"Did I just do that?" Chameleon looked sincerely surprised. 
Starbuck stared at him like he was mad. "Uh..."

Siress Blassie put her hand on Chameleon's shoulder and smiled at 
Starbuck apologetically. "Don't mind his behavior Starbuck. He's 
been a little demented lately. The doctors of the senior ship say 
that he's suffering from the early symptoms of Alzheimer's..."

Starbuck was horrified. "Oh my god...I'm so sorry! But... how is 
it that he remembers who I am although he doesn't remember 
pinching my cheek!..."

"It's the little things he can't remember." Siress Blassie 
explained patiently. "As I said, he's suffering from the early 
symptoms..."

"Will the people in the line please move on!" An irritated voice 
carried from somewhere.

"What's the rush!" Another voice replied. "You have to go 
somewhere?..."

"Aren't we doing this the wrong way!" A deep male voice lingered 
from a little closer in the line "Aren't we supposed to 
congratulate the happy couple AFTER the sealing and not BEFORE!"

"Naah, we can't wait that long." The previous voice replied.

And on it went. People who were dear and not so dear to Starbuck 
and Apollo all wanted to have their chance to congratulate them. 
Kadeem, Greenbean, Barton, Giles, Jolly who was too small for his 
tuxedo. The bridge personnel such as Micky Moonshine, assistant 
navigation controller Mitch and data observer Dixon, the medical 
team: doctor Wilker and drone doctor Salik...

"Oh no!" Starbuck groaned as he saw three very familiar faces 
enter the bridge.

"Where's the happy couple?" Dimstar was almost half a metron 
taller than everyone else in the room as he tottered in his 
platforms to Starbuck and Apollo to give them a kiss on the 
cheek.
Apollo didn't almost recognize the guy from behind those huge 
sunglasses.

"Dimstar." He smiled agonized. "So glad you could make it..."

"You'd really think we'd miss you guys tying the knot!" Dimstar 
raised one of his ridiculously painted eyebrows and bent over to 
give both Apollo and Starbuck a kiss on the cheek. Starbuck 
recognized Dimstar's aftershave. It was the same thing he was 
wearing.

"How spectacular you both look ." Dimstar straightened his back, 
took off the sunglasses, pulled out a napkin and dried invisible 
tears from the corner of his eye. "I'm sure your mothers would be 
so proud of you at this very moment..."

"Yes..." Starbuck mumbled. "And I'm sure our fathers are too. I 
seem to have met quite a few of them already..."

Adama gave Starbuck a suspicious glance.

"What have you done to your hair!" Dimstar gasped and raised his 
hand on his cheek to intensify the expression of being 
astonished. "Those curls... Oh, it looks just fabulous! You have 
to give me the instructions..."

"My curls..." Starbuck turned to give Apollo a meaningful glare. 
Apollo pretended not to notice.

"Hey, give others a little room too!" A bleached mop of hair 
pushed his way past Dimstar, making the poor guy almost lose his 
balance and fall down like a tree.

"Hey, How're ya doin'!" Nicael wrapped his arms around Apollo, 
squeezing the man so tight Apollo started to cough. "Congrats and 
all that feldercarb! Where are you guys gonna go on your 
honeymoon?"

"We were thinking about the Rising Star." Apollo smiled politely, 
skillfully avoiding Nicael's intentions to give him another hug.

"Far out!" Nicael grinned. "Don't forget to send us a 
postcard...Wherever we will be at the time..."

"You can count on that." Starbuck smirked, now getting all of 
Nicael's attention.

"Oh Starbuck. Those curls are absolutely stunning..." Nicael took 
a step towards the blonde man who took a step backwards. "You 
look just like..."

"Guess what guys!" A beaming Oscar appeared from behind Nicael 
and Dimstar and pushed both men aside. Poor Dimmy was just about 
to fall again. He grabbed a hold of Nicael to 
maintain his balance. Oscar was looking like a cat who had just 
had a bowl of milk.

"Guess what!" Oscar was waving something in his hand.  I just 
found my eyeglasses!..."

Nicael turned. "That's cool!" The bleached mop rejoiced. "Where 
were they?"

"In my pocket!"

"That's...that's just wonderful." Starbuck was clenching his 
teeth behind a frozen smile. "And your shuttle is all prepared 
and ready to go, err, when?..."

"Oh, don't worry hon." Oscar winked. "We won't leave until you 
guys have tied the knot..."

"I'm thrilled." Starbuck succeeded in keeping the smile. "Umm... 
Why don't you take your seats now. I think the ceremony is about 
to begin very soon..."

"I don't see anybody else sitting down yet." Dimstar took his 
sunglasses off again and eyed around the bridge.

"Well, ain't that a real stroke of luck!" Starbuck hissed. "You 
can still get the best seats on the ship!"

"Yeah!" Dimstar realized it was true. Starbuck could almost see 
the light bulb appearing above the guy's moppy head. Dimstar 
patted Starbuck's cheek, grateful for the advice, and then turned 
to gesture to Nic and Oz to follow. "Come on lads. We can still 
get seats next to the loudspeakers..."

Off they went.

Starbuck's disbelieving eyes lingered on Dimstar tottering away 
like mother goose, followed by his two faithful ducklings. Kadeem 
noticed Oscar and rushed after him, shouting and waving his hand. 
Such a perfect pair...Starbuck grinned. When he turned back he 
saw Lomas standing in front of him.

"Congratulations Starbuck." Lomas' smile was warm and charming. 
"Thank you for inviting me."

"Thank you for coming." Starbuck was sincere. He opened his arms 
and grinned. "Come here you daggit. Give me a hug like a decent 
brother would..."

Lomas' whole body grew tense as he leaned against Starbuck body 
to let the guy embrace him.
He could smell the scent of Starbuck's shampoo, the aftershave... 
Feel the wiriness of the hair being full of hair spray... the 
softness of a recently shaved cheek...

Those hands... Lomas could feel them on his back, disgracing him, 
tearing his skin like claws...
Quickly, he disengaged from the hug, carefully maintaining his 
calm even though the rivers of hatred were gushing through his 
mind like blood.

"I'm so sorry about your friend." Starbuck's hands were still on 
Lomas' shoulder, the look in his eyes sympathetic. Lomas knew the 
sympathy was all a lie.

"Yes. I'm sorry too." Lomas replied softly, his pale eyes 
studying Starbuck, seeing through the indifference. Then, without 
saying anything else, he turned towards Apollo and took the 
man's hand.

"Congratulations captain." Lomas smiled. "You couldn't have 
picked a better man."

"That's what Starbuck keeps telling me..." Apollo grinned, still 
a little warily. He felt like Lomas was somehow scrutinizing him. 
it made Apollo uncomfortable.

"Although I would know that even if he didn't." Apollo continued, 
giving Starbuck a loving glance.

"Yes..." Lomas smiled, prolonging that word. "Such a shame that 
you let me go once."

"What?" Apollo panted.

"Ever think of me?" Lomas took a hold of Apollo by under his 
chin, making it impossible for the man to turn his face away. The 
waterpond eyes of a lupus started lingering closer and closer to 
Apollo's. Apollo couldn't close his eyes either. It was like he 
was hypnotized.

Lomas' lips lingered on Apollo's for only a passing moment, the 
kiss being light as the breeze.
Before Apollo even really acknowledged it, Lomas had already 
moved away.

For a centon longer Lomas continued to stare at Apollo. Then he 
just turned and walked away, soon disappearing into the crowd of  
guests. Starbuck couldn't spot him any more.

"Is it just me or was he acting a little strange." Starbuck 
mumbled, still eyeing the crowd of people. Apollo didn't hear 
Starbuck's words any more. He had noticed Aeon.

All eyes in the room seemed to follow the incredibly beautiful 
man as he was making his way towards Apollo and Starbuck. Apollo 
felt his hands starting to sweat and his mouth was so dry he was 
so he would choke if he tried to speak. Starbuck was silently 
wishing that they hadn't invited Aeon to the ceremony.

The mesmerizing man halted before the happy couple, eyeing Apollo 
with those dark fairy-tale eyes. Apollo swallowed.

"I'm happy for you." Aeon smiled a little nervously. Apollo could 
think of nothing else but the moment he would have to hug Aeon.

"I'm sure the both of you will be very happy together." Aeon was 
feeling like an idiot. Corny, clapped-out phrases that didn't 
mean anything. Not knowing what to do next, Aeon took Apollo's 
hand and squeezed it.

"Congratulations." He mumbled embarrassed, then needing all his 
will-power to turn away from Apollo and face Starbuck who was 
trying to look cheerful and casual.

Aeon couldn't take it any more. He quickly gave Starbuck a hasty 
smile before walking away without saying a word.

Starbuck closed his eyes for a micron. When he opened them, his 
heart was back to beating normally. All the happiness had 
returned.

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen...Honored guests..." Adama had walked to 
the altar and was now addressing the audience with his hands 
gesturing for silence. "The ceremony will start in just a few 
centons so may I ask you to take your seats please..."

The hassle began as all the people started towards the rows of 
seats.

Apollo turned towards Starbuck will a grin. "Okay buddy. It's 
time!"

"I know." Starbuck smiled. He pulled Apollo close for a passing 
centon to give him a quick kiss and then started towards the 
doorway of the bridge.

"Hey..."

Starbuck turned.

"I love you." Apollo smiled. "I really do."

"I love you too." Starbuck blew Apollo a kiss, then continued on 
his way grinning to himself like a lunatic.

Starbuck was sure he was going to burst from all that happiness. 
Nothing could spoil this day. Not even Aeon.

Apollo watched Starbuck going for awhile, then turned and started 
towards the altar where Adama and Tigh were already waiting.

Right then Apollo remembered something that made him worried.

"Where's Boomer!?" Apollo asked as soon as he got to Adama and 
Tigh. "I haven't seen him anywhere..."

"Don't worry son." Adama smiled in a secretive way. "He'll be 
here."

"He'd better be!" Apollo looked around once more, concerned. 
"He's got the rings!"

"Calm down Apollo." Tigh patted the younger man's shoulder. "Like 
your father said, he'll be here."

Apollo didn't calm down one bit. Something strange was going on. 
Why wasn't anyone else worried. Boomer was Apollo's and 
Starbuck's best friend, the best man in their sealing! Why for 
frack's sake wasn't he here!!

...And why were Adama and Tigh smirking in that annoying way. The 
man acting as the priest shouldn't be smirking like that...

The music started. All eyes turned towards the entrance of the 
bridge. Apollo put Boomer's absence out of his mind. Such a 
beautiful melody. It turned Apollo's skin into goose bumps and 
brought such a happy smile onto his face. This was really it. He 
and Starbuck were really getting sealed...

Then, something utterly capturing made Apollo lose all his 
thoughts and he gasped.

Starbuck was walking down the aisle with flowers in his hair and 
holding a bouquet of white
orchids. The man had never looked more astonishingly beautiful. 
Apollo's heart took a leap into his throat. He could feel tears 
of happiness rushing into his eyes.

Starbuck's sparkling smile was so genuine as he was now walking 
towards the man of his dreams standing next to the altar. The sun 
was shimmering in Apollo's hair and his face was painted with 
golden light. Starbuck swallowed. He had never before seen 
anything so breathtaking in his entire life.

Slowly, led by the sweet melody of his heart, Starbuck walked to 
Apollo's side and surrendered to all magic as Apollo took his 
hand. Together those two men turned towards the altar to face 
Adama.

The old commander wasn't there. He was replaced by a huge cream-
colored cake.

"What the..."

Suddenly a tumult of fanfares filled the bridge and the top of 
that huge cake flew off, startling the frack out of Starbuck and 
Apollo.

Boomer bounced from inside the cake wearing a huge grin on his 
face, white feathers in his hair and holding a little gold-plated 
shield in front of his family jewels. (Little?? No, hold on! The 
shield wasn't that little!) The cheer from the audience was 
deafening.

"Congratulations guys!" Boomer beamed, holding his pose. There 
was now cream all over the place. Most of it on Starbuck's and 
Apollo's faces and dress uniforms. 

"You devil!" Starbuck laughed, having a damn hard time believing 
that Boomer had actually consented to doing this.

Apollo was even more surprised. Especially as Boomer suddenly 
decided to remove the gold-plated shield and throw it into the 
audience. A stunned silence cascaded onto the bridge, then 
suddenly bursting into even louder cheers than before.

Dimstar was grinning like a lunatic, having captured Boomer's 
shield and was waving it now above his head. Nicael was jealous 
as frack. Still surrounded by those thunderous cheers, Boomer 
climbed out of the cake and waved to the audience before retiring 
to one of the bridge offices to get dressed.

Starbuck tried not to watch Boomer's large genitals swinging as 
he walked, but he did anyway.
Apollo noticed and poked Starbuck in the rib.

Gradually the cheers died down as Adama took his position as the 
master of the ceremony.
Boomer returned from the back rooms looking like a million cubits 
in his colonial tuxedo.
He paused to check his pockets that the rings were indeed there 
and then walked to his seat in the front row. Starbuck turned his 
head a little to give him a wink.

Then they all turned serious as the ceremony began.

Ladies and gentlemen... Honored guests..." Adama let his eyes 
sweep over the audience. "We are gathered here to witness the 
sealing of these two men in love: lieutenant Starbuck and captain 
Apollo, my dear son... Two men that have decided to commit their 
lives to each other in the name of Kobol for as long as they may 
live...

"Uhrhmm!"

All eyes turned towards the man in a black Garcini suit standing 
in the doorway of the main entrance of the bridge, smiling 
apologetically and holding a bouquet of orange roses and a box of 
chocolates in his hand.

"I'm so sorry I'm a little late." Harry Clifford's eyes lingered 
on everyone. "My shuttle wouldn't start..."

"Shit." Starbuck forgot they were in the middle of a holy 
ceremony and cursed. One of the virgins of the temple of chastity 
gave him a disapproving look. "That's the guy that sold me the 
camera!"

Apollo glanced at Starbuck, quite surprised. "Did you invite 
him?"

"No..." Starbuck stared at Harry Clifford. "I didn't!"

"I hope you don't mind me barging in like this..." Clifford 
smiled charmingly. "But I just happened to be in the neighborhood 
and couldn't resist dropping by to see how my camera's 
working..."

"It's working just fine." The cameraman grinned and waved.

"...And introducing a very special person..."Clifford continued, 
taking a step sideways and revealing a young man with black hair 
and huge earrings. "...This is Kent, my new protégée. He's going 
to be the new hot act in the fleet."

"What! No way!" Dimstar shot to his feet, envious as frack. 
Nicael started pulling Dimmy's sleeve to get him to sit back 
down.

"Dimstar." Harry Clifford seemed to be tasting that name in his 
mouth. By the look on his face, it must've tasted like 
feldercarb. "Weren't you supposed to be deported."

"I refuse to leave the fleet if that boy is taking my place!" 
Dimstar was glaring at Clifford with his hands on his hips. "No 
one can..."

Tigh lost his calm. He stood up. "Will you gentlemen just shut 
the frack up before I'm gonna get the guards carry you out of 
here by the collar of your tunics."

"But..." Dimstar mumbled.

The look Tigh gave him could've killed an elephant. Dimstar 
clicked his mouth shut and fell back to his seat. Everyone in the 
room watched in silence as Harry Clifford and his new protégée 
walked to two empty seats and sat down.

Adama waited for a moment to make sure that everyone remained 
quiet, then returned to his priest-like manner.

"As I said, we are gathered here to witness the sealing of two 
men in love. Two men, that have made the decision to commit to 
each other for as long as they both shall live..."

Tigh wiped the corner of his eye with his hand. Chameleon blew 
his nose loudly and then folded the napkin and put it back into 
his pocket.

"...So we ask the lords of Kobol to bless these two courageous 
men on their journey and fill their hearts with the nectar of 
happiness..."

Adama's voice became quieter, a little distant as Starbuck's eyes 
started lingering around the bridge. How beautiful the sun made 
things look. Starbuck could hardly believe this was the same 
command bridge on which so many battle-plans had been laid out, 
so many new places had been first discovered...Today, the 
Galactica didn't look like a battlestar at all. Starbuck smiled.
Today, it looked like home.

He let his eyes linger on, sweep over the familiar faces in the 
crowd. There were so many of them. Giles' reckless grin, Jolly's 
almost devout expression as he was listening to Adama speaking, 
Sheba's proud smirk that suggested she was in love with her new 
hairstyle...or rather: hairless style, Rigel's modest smile and 
those hairbuns, Greenbean's expressionless contentment, Barton's 
furrowed brows...

Starbuck followed one of the sunbeams to the wall behind the 
altar.

Cassiopeia's flirty grin greeted him. The same grin that had 
always amused Starbuck so much.

Starbuck smirked. She'd never change.

Neither would Athena who was standing next to Cassie, even more 
beautiful than ever, a controlled smile on her face. A smile that 
warmed up a fraction as she noticed Starbuck looking at her. 
Athena lifted her hand a little. At that very moment Starbuck 
loved her. Like a sister.

Bojay was leaning against Athena, his hand on her shoulder. His 
grin widened as Starbuck's gaze swept over him and continued to 
Zak and Ila, both having tears of happiness in their eyes, 
holding each other close. Starbuck pondered if Apollo too could 
see his brother and mother at this very moment. God he hoped so!

Serina was standing a little behind others, her hair shining in 
the sunlight. Such sadness in her eyes as she watched Apollo now 
standing in the altar with someone else. Starbuck didn't want to 
look at Serina any longer. He turned his eyes back to Apollo and 
squeezed the man's hand. There was no reason to look into the 
past any more.

"...The rings please." Adama's eyes turned to Boomer who 
nervously stepped forward, digging into his pockets and finally 
finding the two rings. He gave them to Adama who gave one to 
Apollo and one to Starbuck.

"Now, repeat after me my son." Adama smiled gently at Apollo. 
"With this ring..."

"With this ring..."

"...I, captain Apollo..."

"...I, captain Apollo..."

"Why don't they ever have last names in this show." Someone 
mumbled in the audience.

"...take thee, lieutenant Starbuck..."

"...take thee, lieutenant Starbuck..."

"This is going to take forever." Someone else in the audience 
whined. "Is the author really going write down all this stuff 
TWICE!..."

"...To be my lawfully sealed husband and promise to love and 
cherish you, wash your socks,	
iron your tunics, leave the turboflush seat up..."

"Hey, wait a centon!" Apollo protested. "Who wrote these sealing 
vows?! I'm not..."

He noticed Starbuck's smirk.

"I should've known!" He frowned. "Can we please get on with the 
ORIGINAL Kobolian sealing act..."

"...til' death do us part." Adama concluded.

Apollo took Starbuck's hand and slipped the ring onto his finger, 
gazing into his eyes. "...til death do us part."

Starbuck wiped a tear away.

"Now you Starbuck." Adama turned towards the other man. Repeat 
after me..."

"Repeat after me..."

Adama gave Starbuck a warning look. "With this ring..."

"With this ring...

"...I, lieutenant Starbuck..."

"...I, the irresistible lieutenant Starbuck..." He winked at 
Apollo, making Adama frown.

"...take thee, captain Apollo..."

"...take thee, captain Apollo..."

"...to be my lawfully sealed husband and promise to love and 
cherish you..."

"I promise."

"You have to repeat it Starbuck."

"Can't we just cut to the end. I already said I promise!"

Adama sighed capitulatingly.

"...til death do us part."

Starbuck took Apollo's hand, slipped the ring on the man's finger 
and lifted the hand onto his lips to kiss it. "...til death do us 
part."

Not for a micron did Starbuck's eyes linger away from Apollo's. 
Adama was smiling like a proud father. Tigh was weeping aloud 
like a child. Boomer tossed him a napkin and hissed to him to be 
quiet.

"And so, using the authority given to me by the lords of the 
Kobol..." Adama continued with a happy sniff. "I'm declaring you 
as husband, and husband." Adama pressed his palms together like 
he had seen priests doing in old colonial movies. "You may kiss 
each other."

The whole audience was now weeping aloud. Apollo gave Starbuck a 
conspirator's grin as he reached to take a flower from Starbuck's 
hair, sniffed it and then threw it over his shoulder to whoever 
might catch it.

Slowly, lost in Starbuck's eyes, Apollo leaned closer and kissed 
Starbuck gently and for the first time as his husband. The 
weeping turned into cheers.

Smiling so happily to each other, still holding hands, Starbuck 
and Apollo turned towards the audience.

Someone was clapping too loud. It didn't sound normal any more, 
it sounded like an insult.
The cheers started fading as everyone was trying to see who the 
person was that was doing the clapping. Starbuck already knew who 
it was even before Lomas stood up.

"Congratulations, dear brother." Lomas smiled. "You've now 
reached the peak of your life. From now on everything's gonna be 
just downhill..."

"Why are you doing this Lomas." Starbuck stared at the pale eyes 
of his brother.

"Isn't it funny how we always end up with the same conclusion..." 
Lomas' voice was so soft, so pleasant. "You have always had the 
power to save me, yet you always decided to turn your back on 
me..."

"We've been through this before, Lomas."

"Remember when I came to the orphanage." Lomas smiled. "I had put 
all my hopes in you. You could have been the one to prevent me 
from falling into the hands of desperation and hatred..."

"You can't blame me for Baltar's actions. I would have been just 
as helpless as you..."

"You didn't even give me a chance." Lomas' smile turned darker. 
"You turned away, just like you did all those yahrens later when 
I was handing Baltar's head to you on a silver plate. I trusted 
you to come together in hatred with me and finally save me from 
hell..."

"I couldn't have taken away what had already happened! You're 
crazy..."

"Yes. That's what you kept saying." Lomas sighed. "And guess 
what! You could have saved me from this craziness by killing me 
when I gave you the chance..." Lomas paused. "...But you didn't 
care. You once again chose to turn your back on me."

"Lomas, why are you doing this again? You seemed so much better. 
Even I was beginning to believe in you! Remember the day you came 
to my quarters..." 

Starbuck's voice died down. He understood.

"Yes. You could have saved him." Lomas smiled darkly, his hand 
reaching for something in his pocket. The laser gun was out and 
pointing at Starbuck before anyone had even had a chance to 
react. Apollo's horrified gaze lingered from Lomas to Starbuck.

"...But instead you drove us away." Lomas' voice turned quieter, 
somehow threatening. "It was because of you that Astral died. 
Only because of you..."

"Astral was already dead Lomas!" Starbuck panted. "For Sagan's 
sake! Your plan, your whole idiotic attempt to escape from 
something that had already happened was ridiculous!"

"Astral dead?" Lomas smiled. "I'll tell you something Starbuck. 
Even during those few last days, Astral was more alive than 
anyone I had ever met. His life had so much more meaning than 
mine could ever have. And this is the person you call 'dead'!"

Starbuck didn't answer. There was nothing he could say.

"I'm standing here now..." Lomas continued softly. "...seeing how 
happy you are, watching how you are getting everything in life 
Astral would have deserved..." Lomas paused but he kept 
scrutinizing Starbuck's face.

"Are you happy Starbuck?"

"What?"

"Is this everything you could ever hope for? Are you happy?"

Starbuck couldn't understand what this sudden are-you-happy-thing 
had to do with all of this.

"Yes." He replied, meeting Lomas stare. "I'm happy. Why..."

Lomas was smiling. At first no one realized he had fired a shot. 
It wasn't until Starbuck bent down with a grimace when people 
started noticing something was seriously wrong.

Apollo let out a desperate yell and reached out to catch Starbuck 
as the man started losing his strength and falling to the floor.

"Starbuck..." Apollo was crying. "Please talk to me!!"

Another shot was fired. It missed Starbuck and Apollo by 
millimetrons only.

Aeon didn't even hesitate. He dashed forward and grabbed Giles' 
gun from his holster before the guy even noticed.

Running towards Apollo and Starbuck to protect them from the 
flying bullets with his own body, Aeon aimed the gun at Lomas and 
fired. Three times in a row.

Lomas let out a cry of agony as blood burst from his chest. Yet 
convulsively he held onto his gun and kept firing at the man with 
fairy-tale eyes until Aeon was merely a limp bundle on the floor, 
lying motionless in a lake of blood. Giles' gun exploded in 
Aeon's hand as Lomas' laser had hit it.

Apollo screamed out from terror and utter despondence, feeling so 
devastated and helpless seeing the man, who had just saved his 
life, dying before his eyes. Apollo so desperately wanted to dash 
to Aeon but he couldn't leave Starbuck...

Lomas' knees hit the floor first, making a knocking sound. Then, 
nothing seemed to happen for centons as Lomas was just kneeling 
there, staring at the sun outside the window, blood gushing from 
the wound on his chest.

Slowly, Lomas brought his gun to his temple. A beautiful, pained 
smile lingered to his lips as they mouthed one, just one word. 
One silent word before Lomas closed those waterpond eyes and 
fired. Lomas died with a smile on his lips. The glimpse of pain 
that had been there just a moment ago, had vanished.

Apollo's despairing eyes lingered away from Lomas to Aeon, then 
back to Starbuck. His poor heart was racing like mad. "Oh 
Starbuck! Don't you dare do this to me now!" Apollo was crying 
"Don't you dare leave me on my sealing day!!"

"Calm down you fool. I'm not going anywhere..." A little, teasing 
smile appeared on Starbuck's face, but disappeared into a grimace 
as a lightning of pain shot through Starbuck's body.

"STARBUCK!" Apollo squealed. "Oh Sagan!"

"Stop squealing dear." Starbuck croaked, still grimacing. "I'm 
okay. It's just..."

Both men glanced up as someone knelt down beside them.

Doctor Wilker's eyes quickly sketched the wounds on Starbuck, 
then lingered to Apollo who was frantic and all over Starbuck.

"Apollo..." Wilker managed to keep his voice patient. "I'm trying 
to examine the condition of your husband but I can't do anything 
unless you move back a little. I need space to be able to act..."

"Oh, of course. I'm sorry." Apollo moved back a little, yet not 
taking his frightened eyes off Starbuck for even a micron.

Someone stood up. Kent started pushing his way through the 
panicked crowd.

"I'm a qualified med-technician!" He kept repeating self-
confidently. "I've taken a course in emergency relief. Please let 
me through! I can help..."

"Oh, let him through." Doctor Wilker gestured absently. Apollo's 
suspicious eyes followed Kent approaching.

"Are you sure that..."

"Well, he can't do any harm and I can always use the help of a 
med tech." 

Wilker mumbled without looking up. He felt someone kneeling 
beside him and by the sound of earrings jingling he knew it was 
Kent.

"Ooooh, that looks bad!" Kent grimaced, gaining a furious look 
from Apollo.

Being the qualified med-technician that he was, Kent took a 
moment or two to closely consider all options before making up 
his mind about what would be the best thing to do in a situation 
like this. He climbed to his feet and turned towards the people 
that had surrounded them. Kent raised his hands. "All right 
people! Move away please! There's nothing to see. I repeat, 
there's NOTHING to see..."

"Are you a complete idiot!" Apollo stared at Kent with his mouth 
open.

"Hey, you better watch who you're calling an idiot buddy." Kent 
growled through clenched teeth. "If you wanna fight with me you 
better step outside..."

"Yo! I wanna fight with you Kenty boy!" Dimstar stood up and his 
head was once again swaying above other people. "You are trying 
to take my place in the fleet and I'm not gonna let you do 
that without a struggle..."

"JESUS!" Apollo screamed from the bottom of my lungs. "MAY I 
REMIND YOU IDIOTS THAT MY HUSBAND WAS JUST SHOT BY ANOTHER 
IDIOT..."

"Easy Apollo." Doctor Wilker smiled a little. "Starbuck is just 
fine. He's just a little dizzy from losing blood and the shot hit 
his thigh, which explains the pain..."

"Starbuck is all right?" Apollo forgot to breathe.

"Your husband will be as good as new in no time." Wilker grinned. 
Apollo almost let out a yell of ecstasy.

There was a smile on Starbuck's lips too. "Didn't I tell you that 
you were not going to get rid of me that easy, hubby..."

Apollo took Starbuck's hand and kissed it. There were tears of 
relief in his eyes. "I love you Starbuck."

"I know." Starbuck was grinning.

Suddenly a stir swept through the people on the bridge causing 
Apollo, Wilker and Starbuck look up. Dimstar had picked up Lomas' 
laser gun and was pointing it at Kent.

Harry Clifford had already gotten his share of the laserbeam and 
was kneeling on the floor, gasping and holding his hand on the 
wound on his arm. Something white, liquid-like, was dripping 
though his fingers.

"What the frack is going on?" Apollo's lips formed, his 
disbelieving eyes lingering from Clifford to Dimstar, then to 
Kent and then back to Clifford. 

"What the hell is that white..."

"Oh my god, he's one of them..." Wilker realized.

"One of what?" Starbuck glanced at Wilker. "You mean..."

The rest of his words drowned under Dimstar's furious shriek as 
Kent tried to grab his gun.

"Get back you fuck!" Dimstar yelled, his forefinger already 
putting more pressure on the trigger. "One more move and you'll 
end up a soprano..."

"Okay okay!" Kent halted and lifted his hands. "No need to do 
anything irrational..."

"I tell you what's irrational." Dimstar pouted. "You claiming to 
be a musician..."

"He is a musician Dim." Clifford smirked from his corner. "A hell 
of a lot better musician that what you could ever be..."

"Shut up you daggit." Dimstar turned to aim at Clifford. "You 
couldn't tell the difference between a musician and a hay 
bale..."

"Gentlemen, please..." Adama knew he had to do something. He just 
didn't know what.

"This is just... so unfair!" Dimstar protesting loudly. "Why for 
frack's sake is Cliffy allowed to stay with the fleet and we're 
not, although he's just as dead as we are. Is this some kind of 
conspiracy to get rid of the best musicians on board to replace 
them with clowns like that Kent dude..."

"You self-centered little daggit." Clifford hissed with disdain. 
"Do you really think everything that happens around here revolves 
around you..."

"I know it does." Dimstar snorted.

"Idiot." Clifford sneered.

"Moron." Dimstar stuck his tongue at Clifford.

"Oxymoron." Nicael stepped at Dimmy's side and stuck tongue out 
too.

"That's the wrong word you dimwit!"

"Who cares. It sounds good..."

"Cut it out you idiots!" Starbuck shouted annoyed. "And will 
someone please help me get to the damn life center so I can get 
patched up. I'm not really planning to walk around with a hole in 
my leg..."

"Oh my god!" Someone cut in. "Look at him! Look at the white, 
dead dude!"

Everybody turned to look at Harry Clifford. The white liquid had 
started to gush from the wound on his arm like a fountain and the 
man's eyes were slowly becoming paler and paler. His skin had 
already turned into a sick shade of white.

"The guy should get some sun." Someone mumbled, gaining a few 
angry looks.

"What are you people staring at?!" Clifford met all stunned eyes 
with contempt. "You've never seen an awakened man before!?"

"Why didn't you let us know about your condition?" Tigh stepped 
forward, realizing his responsibility in this situation. "I'm 
sure you were very aware of the fact that you cannot be a part of 
our community as a dead man..."

"Well, that's the very reason I didn't tell you." Clifford 
snorted. "Do you really think I would just gladly give up 
everything I've worked for and start building my life all over 
again or let you shoot me!?"

"But... you would have been exposed none the less sooner or 
later, as you have now. You wouldn't have been able to keep a 
secret like that..."

"This is ridiculous." Harry Clifford eyed Tigh sarcastically. 
"You people want to destroy my life just because I'm a little 
different!?"

"You're not just a little different..."

"And you dare to claim that the colonial civilization is far more 
developed than the civilization in most parts of the universe..." 
Clifford's voice turned even more bitter. "You are no better than 
cylons or dinosaurs! That's the ugly truth about the human race!"

"The guy has a point." Nicael nodded.

Everyone in the room knew very well that Clifford had a point but 
no way in frack would anyone ever admit it aloud.

"Go on then!" Clifford sneered sarcastically. "Kill me! What are 
you waiting for..."

He shouldn't have said that.

Right at that very moment Dimstar realized he had the power to do 
the very thing he had always wanted to do when Cliffy-boy had 
been alive and a real pain in the arse.

He raised the gun and fired four shots at Clifford, who died 
immediately.

Satisfied with himself, Dimstar lifted the gunpipe to his lips 
and blew away the smoke that was still drifting out from the 
pipe. Nicael and Oscar stared at Dimstar, shocked and their 
mouths open.

"I should've done that you fool!" Nicael frowned.

"Don't worry." Oscar poked Nic. "I'm sure Dimmy's gonna let you 
shoot the next one."

"What next one?" Starbuck asked from the floor eyes wide.

"Our next manager." Oscar grinned. "If we ever get one..."

An enraged growl made them all turn.

"You fracker!" Kent was standing in front of Wilker, Starbuck and 
Apollo, legs spread and holding his hands on his waist. His 
earrings were jingling furiously.

"What now?" Starbuck frowned.

"You bastard!" Kent hissed at Dimstar. "You just killed my 
manager..."

"He had it coming." Nicael pointed out.

"And so will you..." Kent grabbed a glass vase full of white 
orchids, tossed the flowers away and lifted the vase above his 
head.

"Oh, for Sagan's sake." Apollo rolled his eyes. "I think we 
better get away from here! Starbuck, will you be able to stand if 
I support you?"

"I'll help." Wilker took a hold of Starbuck by under his left 
arm. Together with Apollo they started dragging the man up. 
Starbuck grimaced.

"Don't you dare come any closer with that thing, you...you..."

"Me me what?" Kent eyed Dimstar sarcastically.

"...you..."

"...oxymoron!" Nicael suggested with a grin.

" Hey don't be callin' me no oxymoron!" Kent clenched his teeth.

"...you MICHAEL BOLTON!" Dimstar finished triumphantly.

"That's it!" This time Kent got really furious. Still holding 
that vase above his head he started towards Dimstar.

Dimstar raised the gun. "Stop or I'll shoot!"

Kent kept on coming.

Apollo and Wilker were supporting Starbuck, all three men trying 
to move away from the battlefield of dimwits as quickly as 
possible.

Boomer was hurrying his way through the crowd of ceremony guests 
to help them.

Then it all happened.

Dimstar started firing at Kent, who let go of the vase and ducked 
to the floor to take cover.
The shots hit doctor Wilker and Starbuck, who let out a choked 
squeak and collapsed to Apollo's arms. Wilker was already dead 
before he hit the floor.

No noise came out of Apollo's throat. The devastated yell he let 
out was completely silent.
Everything around him vanished.

"Starbuck..." Apollo croaked, trying desperately to get the man 
to open his eyes. There was blood all over Starbuck's dress 
uniform, staining Apollo's clothes too, painting his hands and 
face, gushing to the floor, painting it red...

"Starbuck...Please!..." Apollo had no strength to speak, his eyes 
were blinded by tears as he now watched the man he so dearly 
loved, dying in his arms.

Boomer had knelt beside them, trying to hold his choked sobs but 
succeeding poorly. Tears were running down his cheeks.

"Starbuck..." Boomer softly touched Starbuck's face, then took 
both of his hands.

Starbuck's pale lips were moving vaguely. He hadn't opened his 
eyes.

Apollo was crying. No one could make sense of the tumult of words 
he kept repeating.
He leaned his head against Starbuck's chest and pressed his face 
against the blood-covered tunic, trying with his will-power to 
keep Starbuck's heart beating. He couldn't hear it any more.

Starbuck had died in his arms.

There was complete silence on the bridge.

An eternity seemed to go by before Apollo opened his eyes. They 
looked so different now that all the hope in them had gone.

"We'll have to return." Apollo's blank voice seemed to come from 
far far away. It had no life any more. "I'm taking Starbuck back 
to Du'yraan."

"Son..." Adama said softly. "Even if you did, Starbuck would 
never again be the same. He wouldn't be alive like you."

"I don't give a frack." Apollo slowly looked up and met his 
father's eyes. There was no trace of emotion whatsoever on 
Apollo's face. "I'm going to bring him back to me."

Adama closed his eyes for a micron, then opened them. "I can't 
let you do that Apollo. I'm sorry..."

"I will return to Du'yraan with or without your permission 
commander..." Apollo felt nothing at all as he arose from the 
floor. He didn't feel the warmth of the sun or the scent of the 
orchids. He didn't feel the blood on his hands and on his face. 
"And there is nothing you can say or do to change my mind."

"Apollo, you have to understand..." Boomer quickly climbed to his 
feet and took a hold of Apollo by his sleeve, not letting go 
although Apollo tried to fight his arm free. "Apollo!...Listen to 
me!..."

Apollo turned and hit Boomer in the jaw making the man fall to 
the floor.

What happened after that, happened in microns.

Apollo flew to the control computer, pulled the laser gun out of 
drone Omega's holster for he wasn't wearing one himself, shot the 
poor android and started inserting new co-ordinates into the 
computer's memory.

Giles and Jolly started running towards Apollo, who saw their 
approaching reflection on the
computer screen. He turned and pointed the laser gun at them, 
forcing them to halt. Jolly didn't react fast enough. Apollo 
fired a shot of warning towards him. It hit Jolly in the 
shoulder.	

Apollo!" Adama was more than shocked. "You have to listen to 
reason! We cannot go back to Orion. We cannot risk the safety of 
the whole fleet for one person who has already died. "

The gun Apollo was holding turned to point at Adama.

"One person who died." Apollo coughed with bitter laughter. "Is 
that all Starbuck was to you? One person who died."

"Apollo! My god! You know very well that I loved Starbuck as a 
son, but..."

The Galactica was starting to turn, everyone on the bridge felt 
the inclination.

Apollo smiled darkly. "Here we go."

"For Sagan's sake Apollo!" Boomer got up from the floor and tried 
to get some sense into his friend's head.

"I loved Starbuck more than you could possibly know, so I know 
damn well about the hurt you are feeling..."

"Really?" Apollo raised one brow sarcastically.

"...But your father is right. If you bring him back from death, 
he won't be the same. He will be a chaos of himself. How could 
you possibly want to hurt Starbuck like that..." Boomer paused. 
"... I won't let you hurt Starbuck like that."

A moment of complete silence as Apollo's eyes were lingering on 
Boomer. A moment that seemed to last for eternities. Finally 
Apollo let his gaze fall to the floor.

"I can't exist without Starbuck." Apollo replied wearily, this 
time with so much sorrow in his voice. "But you are right Boomer. 
I can't do that to him... I love him too much..."

Boomer closed his eyes for a micron to say a silent thank you. 
When he opened them, he so much pain and sadness on Apollo's 
face. Sadness and something else.

Apollo's eyes lingered on Boomer for a little while. Then he 
turned without saying a word, re-typed to insert new data into 
the computer and pressed 'enter'. The ship started to incline 
again.

Boomer felt all the blood disappearing from his head as he 
realized what those codes were.
Apollo had set the controls of the battlestar to the heart of the 
sun. He was going to destroy the Galactica.

Feeling the hair on the back of his neck raising towards the 
ceiling, Boomer turned to Adama for help. The old commander's 
face had turned pale as ashes. With horrified eyes he stared at 
the back of his the man that used to be his son.

Apollo remained completely silent as he was now standing in front 
of the largest window next to the control computer, his back 
turned towards the people on the bridge.

No one dared to move for Apollo was still holding on to the laser 
gun. He was the only one.

Apart from Giles and Omega the drone, who had forgotten to take 
their weapons off, the wedding guests had respected Starbuck's 
wish and attended the ceremony un-armed. Starbuck hadn't wanted 
anyone to carry a gun on the most beautiful day of his life.

Yes. Most beautiful indeed.

Apollo's shoulders were shaking a little. Boomer could tell he 
was crying, staring at the sun, not seeing the light it 
reflected. The Galactica was now flying towards that deadly 
brightness.

"It's all emptiness now." Apollo was speaking quietly to the sun. 
"I have nothing left..."

"You have your whole life left you fool!" Boomer took a hesitant 
step towards Apollo, then halted as Apollo turned and lifted that 
gun, aiming it at Boomer.

"I never knew what Lomas was talking about." Apollo's was 
speaking only half aloud, letting his eyes linger around the 
bridge and pause on each of those shocked faces that were staring 
back at him. "I always thought it was his sickness, his own 
world..."

"You are not Lomas, Apollo. You are much stronger..."

"Am I?" Apollo surprised eyes lingered back to Boomer. "How could 
you possibly know?!"

"because you're... Apollo!" Boomer spread his arms with a shrug. 
"You've always been the one we have all been able to count on..."

"Oh for Sagan's sake! Get a grip of yourself captain!" Adama had 
either lost his patience or was trying another tactic. "If you 
lead the Galactica into its destruction, you will destroy all the 
other ships in the fleet too."

Adama took his chance and started walking closer to his son. 
Apollo didn't even hesitate as he fired a shot over his father's 
head to make him stop.

Tigh let out a little squeal of fright, praying to Sagans that 
either man would find even a little bit of reason in their heads 
to stop this insanity.

* * *

Oh, in case you were wondering, (Yes, this is God again), there 
aren't many people left on the bridge to witness these awful 
moments. Perhaps only Giles and Jolly, Greenbean, Sheba and 
Rigel, Muffit...

Dimstar had been arrested right after shooting Wilker and 
Starbuck. Having gone into a shock after realizing what he had 
done, Dimmy boy dropped the weapon. The guards on the bridge had 
jumped on him like wild animals, confiscated the gun and then 
dragged Dimstar away.
There were no guards left on the bridge now.

Nicael, Oscar and Kadeem had followed Dimstar and the guards. 
Kent had all of a sudden realized that Nicael was in fact kinda 
cute and pattered after him.

Most of the other ceremony guests who had been left at that 
point, had been too shaken (not stirred) to stay, and saw 
Dimstar's arrest as a chance to leave the party without being 
noticed.

The dead bodies had not been removed. They were still lying on 
the floor, including Starbuck.
Drone doctor Salik was crouching at Wilker's side, weeping 
artificial tears. Muffit had been stepped on by accident but it 
was still barking.

Now, back to the story...

* * *

"By heavens Apollo!" Adama halted. "Don't you realize that if you 
let the Galactica crash, those ships that are on auto control 
will automatically follow  us and crash too..."

The old man paused to take a breath. "...And those ships that 
will remain left... without a battlestar to cover for them, they 
will be completely vulnerable to any hostility they will 
encounter. The communities on those ships will without any doubt 
be destroyed by either cylons or some other creatures. They will 
have nothing at all to protect themselves with. The human race 
will be perished! I can't let you..."

Adama  couldn't go on any more. He pressed his hand on his chest 
and struggled for air. The bridge was spinning before his eyes.

Tigh rushed to his husband's side and put his hand protectively 
on the old man's shoulder, hoping to calm him down. His dark eyes 
were on Apollo.

"If you destroy the Galactica captain, those other people will 
all die too, just like us."
He paused. "It is now all in your hands."

Apollo didn't say anything. He studied Tigh's face for a long 
time. The brightness was becoming harder to handle. It burned the 
eyes and kept exploding in the brain. The pleasant warmth that 
the sun had brought at first was turning into unbearable heat, 
bringing perspiration onto the surface of skin, making the air 
too stuffy. It was getting so much harder to breath. "I don't 
want to live." Apollo was smiling. "I have nothing to live for 
anymore."

He turned and hit his forefinger on the mega-turbo-accelerator 
button. The Galactica took a leap towards its destruction with 
horrifying speed.

Boomer dashed towards Apollo, realizing that if he didn't act 
now, he would never again get a chance to. Apollo turned a bit 
too slowly, Boomer had already caught a hold of the gun.

Letting out a shriek of frustration, Apollo threw himself against 
Boomer and the dark man lost his balance. He fell and dropped the 
gun. Apollo dived after it like a hawk but Boomer succeeded in 
kicking it further away. It slid to four metrons away and 
vanished under the altar.

Boomer was doing his best trying to struggle himself free but 
Apollo seemed to be blinded by rage. Screaming aloud he kept 
hitting and hitting the man until blood burst out of  Boomer's 
nose and splashed on Apollo's tunic. Tigh and Giles had started 
running towards those two men to help Boomer and stop Apollo from 
fulfilling all this insanity. Sheba had dashed after the gun.
Greenbean was running away from the bridge to get help.

Adama grasped his chest and turned strangely blue. Jolly eyed the 
old commander, worried that he might be having a heart attack.

Suddenly Apollo seemed to realize what he was doing. He looked 
down at Boomer, puzzled like he had not seen the man lying there 
before. His eyes lingered to his knuckles and stared at them like 
they didn't even belong to him. This didn't make sense... Apollo 
looked up and saw Giles and the others running towards him.

Like a lightning he shot up from the floor and  dashed towards 
the altar, under which he had seen the gun sliding. He caught 
Sheba, hit her in the head and pushed her off his way. The woman 
flew against the chairs and broke her arm.

Apollo reached the altar. He dropped onto his knees and reached 
out but he couldn't feel the gun anywhere! Fuck! Apollo bent his 
head, lifted the hem of the decoration cloth and took a look 
under the altar. Damn it was dark but he spotted the gun. Quickly 
he grabbed it and then rolled onto his back to point the gun at 
Giles and the others.

"Hold it." He whispered, for a whisper was the only sound he 
could get out.

Not letting the gun falter for a micron, Apollo climbed to his 
feet. His eyes lingered on the people around him as he started 
slowly making his way back to the large window. The heat had by 
now climbed up to 230 cekrans.

Rigel had fainted. There was white foam coming out of her mouth 
and her fingers had swollen like dough. Adama had by now fallen 
to the floor and his breathing had turned into laborious wheeze.

Jolly kept pondering if he should perhaps do something but he was 
feeling a little too bloated from the heat to act. Tigh, who had 
no idea what was going on with Adama, was sitting next to one of 
the ventilation grating, wiping sweat off his forehead and 
peeling off his dress uniform jacket and his tunic. Sheba, who 
had crawled to Tigh, was quite intrigued indeed to find those 
little pink bras underneath. Tigh noticed her stare and grinned. 
"Genuine Goscarots." He winked. "Only 89 cubits on the textile 
ship..."

Boomer had crawled to Starbuck and was now resting his head on 
the man's chest, silently weeping. Starbuck's eyes were open.

Five centons later, it had become unbearable.

Apollo could hear those moans, cries and screams from behind. The 
ones you hear in your nightmares. He could smell the scent of 
burning hair. It was lingering in the air like smoke, choking 
him. The sun was no longer a fountain of incredible light. There 
was no more telling where the brightness was coming from. It was 
everywhere, devouring everything.

Apollo had never seen anything like it as he was standing in 
front of that window. It was the most beautiful, yet the most 
horrifying sight. Those beams of light shooting through him like 
huge snakes, attacking his eyes, stinging his retinas with 
tongues of fire. Apollo was actually glad that sun was the last 
thing he saw before his eyes exploded.

It was Starbuck's name that he kept repeating all over again just 
before the fire of death devoured him.

The Galactica destructed from the heat even before it crashed 
onto the surface of the Xilrian sun. The most beautiful star in 
the universe.

In silence, those sparkles that remained left of the last 
battlestar, lingered upwards and vanished into space. Soon there 
was only darkness.

* * *

Epilogue

"What the hell..."
Danny almost choked on his root beer when the noise started. A 
strange, crackly yanking sound that was coming from all six 
loudspeakers, constantly getting louder. Quickly Danny dropped 
his feet off the table, tossed the Tex Willer comic aside and 
grabbed the telephone...

* * *

"Mister president..." A dark-haired woman in a stylish beige suit 
and a brown scarf tied loosely around her neck stepped in. She 
was followed by three men, all dressed in dark suits, all looking 
very efficient, very official. "Sir. We have a problem..."

"Can't it wait until I finish my breakfast." The president of the 
United States of America frowned displeased. He had just spread 
the morning paper in front of him and was very much looking 
forward to a quiet moment with fried bacon, runny eggs and french 
fries.

"No sir, it can't."

"Damn!" Bill Clinton let out a deep sigh and resignedly pulled 
off the napkin he had tucked in his collar. He looked up at the 
woman and the three men. "Okay, Denise. What is it?"

"We just had a call from secretary of defense..."

"Really?"

"Sir... Space command has been informed that there has been 
unidentified radio signals received by S.E.T.I. in New Mexico..."

"The Russians." Clinton smirked. "No one can understand their 
signals..."

"Sir...ummm...S.E.T.I. believes that the signal might be coming 
from outer world..."

"Aliens?"

"That's what they claim sir..." The dark-haired woman hesitated. 
"but that's not all..."

"Oh, there's more?" Clinton lifted on eyebrow.

"Yes." One of the men who had accompanied the woman into the 
dining room stepped forward. "We have also been notified that the 
satellites of NASA have been picking up signals of meteor-like 
objects that are approaching Earth...

"Nuke'em."

"Mister president." The man sounded a little impatient. "That 
would be completely useless..."

"Yeah yeah..." Clinton yawned. "I've seen my share of 
Armageddon's and deep impacts, I know you need to place the bomb 
inside the meteor..."

"The distance from the source is only 340 000 kilometers. 
Launching nuclear weapons would not only be completely useless, 
but it would also be disastrous for the earth atmosphere. We 
would nuke ourselves to death..."

"How much time do we have until those falling objects are 
entering our aerospace?..."

"With that speed... I'd say in the next ten minutes!"

"You're kidding!"

"I wish I was..."

"Hold on!..." One of the men, this time an uglier one with a pot 
belly and a mustache had covered his left ear with his hand and 
was talking to his cell phone. He lifted his eyes and looked at 
the others in the room.

"Those objects are not falling..."

"What do you mean?" The dark-haired woman studied the man's face.

"I mean those damn meteors are slowing down!"

"What!?"

"You heard me!"

"...What about the radio signal. Is it still..."

"Has S.E.T.I. been able to identify the signal yet?"

"No, but we are constantly getting information about the signal 
getting stronger."

"NASA is on our butts! They want to know their position..."

"Who else knows about this?"

"Everybody."

"The white house press office is being bombarded by the press... 
Kathryn has promised CNN a short interview as soon as we know 
something."

"Mister President." One of the men, the third one who had brown 
hair and a face like Richard Gere looked up. "I have Atlantic 
Command on the line. It seems they have two confirmed visual 
sightings..."

"Of what?"

"It means that even though the objects seem to be slowing down, 
they are approaching Earth faster than we had calculated..."

"Oh shit! It's on the news!"

Everybody in the room fell silent as the voice of the ABC morning 
news anchorwoman flooded from the television. "...the hysteria 
caused by this unexplained phenomenon. Thousands have taken to 
the streets as..."

"Shit. Didn't we just ask the public relations department to 
handle this situation discreetly until we..."

"How could you possibly handle a situation like this discreetly 
Mister President." The woman frowned. "Those objects are not only 
the concern of the United States, they are being spotted all over 
the world..."

"...Moving too slow to be comets or meteors..."

"I just heard about three more sightings in the USA airspace." 
The man with the Richard Gere face signaled to the others to turn 
down the TV a little.

"One is heading towards Los Angeles. The other two towards New 
York City and Washington DC."

"Mister President, we need to organize a military escort and have 
you moved to a secure location immediately..."

"I'm not leaving without my fried bacon and runny eggs..."

"Mister president!..."

"...The signal coming from what seems to be a fleet of vehicles 
is currently being de-coded and analyzed..."

"There is no evidence whatsoever that this strange atmospheric 
phenomenon is endangering anyone."

"But..."

"Yeah. What the heck! If these are extraterrestrial visitors, 
this could be a hell of a momentous occasion..."

All stunned eyes turned to the red-haired man who had just 
entered the room.

"Mister vice president!!" The dark-haired woman stammered. "Have 
you any idea what you are suggesting..."

"You can call me Al..."

"Mister vice president! Can you possibly understand the meaning 
of such an occurrence..."

"Yes. This is a great day. I, as well as my children, my wife and 
all my drinking buddies are extremely excited..."

"Harrison." Clinton turned to face the man with the Richard Gere 
face. "I want you to get me the vice president..."

"I'm already here Bill..."

"...The whole cabinet, joined chiefs..."

"They all left town half an hour ago as well as the rest of 
Washington DC. All the streets are completely jammed..."

"Cowards." Clinton snorted. "All right. I'm going to organize a 
world-wide telephone conference..."

"Why??"

"...Get me the Russian president Boris Jeltsin on the line..."

"Mister president. Boris Jeltsin is not the president any 
more..."

"Well, get me the one who is in charge over there!"

"Yes sir."

"Get me also the queen of England, the king of Sweden, Monica 
Lewinsky, the pope, the king of Spain... No no no, get me the 
prince. He's younger and better looking!..."

Clinton paused. His eyes lingered on the people in the room. "Did 
I forget anybody? Damn, it's such a big world, I can't possibly 
keep track of all the countries out there!..."

"Mister president..." The first man lifted his forefinger to 
signal he had something to say.
"Mister president. I just received some new information that nine 
more objects have been spotted in Europe, Asia and Australia. Two 
in the British airspace, moving towards Torquay and Birmingham, 
one above Germany, near Frankfurt, two approaching the 
Mediterranean sea, one just above Melbourne and two approaching 
Nagpur and Bombay..."

"Any more sightings in the USA airspace?"

"Yes, mister president." The dark-haired woman coughed.

Well?" Clinton waited.

"Well what?" The woman looked uncomfortable.

"How many?"

"Seven hundred and eighty seven."

"WHAT?!"

"And they look like space ships sir. The distance between the 
target is now merely 50-70 kilometers..."

Embarrassed silence.

"Why didn't the armed forces take any action!?"

"You told them not to, sir."

"Shit! We have to initiate emergency broadcasts on TV and talk to 
the press to try to avoid mass hysteria!"

"Too late, sir..."

"Screw the press!" The man with the Richard Gere face tossed his 
hand. "If those things contain alien lifeforms, we should move 
straight to DEFCON 4 and launch all the nuclear weapons we have! 
It's our only chance..."

"Mister president, what if those alien lifeforms are on a peace 
mission. So far they haven't shown any initiative towards 
hostility!"

"You're right Al..." Clinton started strolling around the room. 
His eyes lingered to the bacon and eggs that must had gotten cold 
ages ago... Oh, what the heck, he might as well be give them to 
the dog... or the cat. Clinton couldn't quite remember if they 
had a dog or not. He paused strolling and looked up at the 
anticipating faces in the room. Then his eyes lingered to Al 
Gore.

"What if those beings do become hostile, then what happens?..."

"What do you think." Al Gore raised one eyebrow.

"God help us all." The woman with dark hair mumbled.

* * *

"We are waiting for your command Baltar." Lucifer is standing 
behind Baltar who is looking out of the huge throne room window.

Baltar doesn't answer.

Instead, he turns and bends over to pick up something from a 
cradle that the cylons have built from metal.

He lifts the ugly little boy up into his arms.

"Look son..."

Baltar turns his eyes away from the boy, extends his hand to 
point at the shiny blue planet ahead and smiles.

"...We found Earth."
							
* * *

THE END