Title: Tales from the New Academy - Introduction
Author: rita and Betty
E-mail:  mommacita1@juno.com (rita) er.br@sympatico.ca (Betty)
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: SB/A, SB/A/B, Adama/Tigh, Boxey/??
Archive: Yes, please
Series: Oh my, yes!  Of epic proportions.
Website: http://www.geocities.com/jennylmr/index.html (And thanks to 
Jenlmr for hosting us)

Disclaimer: We don't own the boys nor do we make any profit from our 
writing.  We just like to play with them and we mostly put our toys 
back as good as new.

Warnings (if needed): For Starbuck's Story: angst, death of a major 
character, sexual and physical torture, hurt/comfort, original major 
character (non-Mary-Sue)

Summary: See part 0 for alternate universe this is placed in.  Settled 
on Earth, the Galacticans form a New Academy with Earth and Colony 
officers as staff, and Earth and Colony cadets.
.
Part 1

The tap on the door brought the blue-clad officer's head up from the 
maze of wires and computer peripherals.  "Yes?" he said neutrally, 
taking in the tall, dark-haired girl staring at him with brown eyes.  
'First-year cadet, Earth female,' he categorized automatically. He knew 
she was an Earther by her stance, the ship-borne Galactican cadets 
stood with feet a little apart and knees slightly flexed, as though 
ready for turbulence.  The badge identifying her as US-Eastern Seaboard 
confirmed his guess. 'Attractive, maybe a head shorter than me, and 
those pouty lips look perfect for kissing...' He quashed that thought 
immediately, but couldn't help continuing his appraisal. 'Nervous and 
shy,' part of his mind added.  In other times, he would have smiled and 
spoken in warm tones to set her at ease, but these weren't other times, 
so he just waited for a response, looking at her expressionlessly.

"Ah, Colonel?" A nod was all the encouragement to continue that she 
got.  "First-year Cadet Lydia Goren, sir.  The Commander sent me to 
assist you."

That got a response, but not one to set her at ease.  "I don't need 
assistance, Cadet.  I am still capable of updating an office computer 
system." The part of him that still categorized people by other than 
occupation and planet of origin wanted to ask 'which Commander?', but 
he ruthlessly silenced it.

"Um, yes, sir. I was told you had to interview me and fill out this 
form." She held out a piece of paper.

The kneeling man stared at the paper making no move to take it from the 
girl.  'Another Earth habit we've adopted, handwriting words on paper 
so that someone else can copy them into the automated filing system,' 
he thought. But even in this bureaucracy there shouldn't be a form to 
fill out just for someone to help him lift computers onto desks, he 
realized.

Lydia misinterpreted his silence and lack of motion. "Shall I tell the 
Commander you refused me, sir?"  She blinked rapidly, holding back 
tears.

'Frak! Now she's going to cry.' The colonel straightened up with a 
wince.  "No, no.  Let me read the form first."  He finally took the 
proffered paper from her hand and scanned it. "Ah, you're paying for 
the Academy by part-time employment," he interpreted aloud. That told 
him which Commander had sent her - no pity involved, just the 
overriding need for organization and efficiency.

"Yes, sir, I'm a work-study student," Lydia replied in a subdued tone.

The walled off part of his mind yelled at him to apologize to her.  He 
tried to ignore it, but it flavored his words anyway. "Apparently the 
Commander thinks having someone to type and file for me will make me do 
paperwork more quickly.  He should know better."  A smile quirked his 
lips despite his best efforts to remain expressionless.  "And can you 
type and file?"

"Yes, sir.  And take dictation, too.  I was trained in a vocational 
track."

His brow furrowed as he tried to translate the phrase "vocational 
track" into something meaningful.

"You can just check the 'Unacceptable' box and sign it and I'll take it 
back," Lydia said, misinterpreting his expression.

"Hmm?  Why would I do that? Unless you don't want the job." 'Why would 
anyone want to work for you if they could avoid it?' he asked himself.

"Oh, no sir, I want the job," Lydia was quick to respond.  "I need it 
or I can't afford the Academy.  And not being academic track, I wasn't 
eligible for scholarship; work-study's the only way I can stay here."

"Well, if you can type and file, you're acceptable," the Colonel 
responded brusquely. 'Why do you do this to yourself?' he asked 
himself. 'Tell her the Commander will find her another position, not 
kick her out.  She'll only stay long enough to figure that out and find 
something else anyway.' But he checked the "Accepted" box and scrawled 
his signature at the bottom of the form.

"Thank you, sir!" Lydia said enthusiastically, beaming as she took the 
paper from him.  "When shall I start?"

"Once you've got your class schedule set, work around that as many 
hours as you want.  I'm always here."

"Thank you, Colonel Starbuck," Lydia replied with a bit more 
confidence. "I'll do that."  She saluted and left.  He stared at the 
doorway after she was gone, a bemused expression on his face.  What had 
he set himself up for?

***

Halfway through the semester, the Galactican officers who had been 
injured in the clean-up of the outer planets were recovered and 
rehabilitated enough for light duty. Tigh met with Adama to get the 
list of names. "Here's the roster of Galactica officers available for 
the Academy and the timeframes," Tigh said too casually as he tossed 
the folder onto Starbuck's desk and continued walking towards the inner 
office.

Starbuck picked up the folder but didn't open it.  "Commander," he said 
hesitantly, "Would you consider teaming a Galactica officer, 
particularly those who are only available for a short time, with an 
Earth officer?"

Tigh spun around to face Starbuck and couldn't help noticing that the 
younger man flinched away.  "That's a brilliant idea,  Colonel!" he 
said, putting as much enthusiasm into his usual dry tones as he could.  
"Implement it immediately."

"Thank you, sir," Starbuck responded. "It's not really much of an idea 
at all.  Just seemed to make sense."

"Don't put yourself down, Colonel," the Commander chided him as he 
entered his office.

A stifled laugh turned Starbuck's attention to the quiet Cadet who 
served as his assistant.  "What?" he asked.

"I'm sorry, sir," Lydia replied, not sounding at all sorry. "It's just 
that you complain about me being afraid to tell you my ideas, then you 
go and act the same way."

Starbuck was silent for a moment.  It was true that despite his best 
efforts to remain remote and aloof, he found himself enjoying the 
Cadet's presence and encouraging her. 'I don't want her to hate me,' he 
thought, then, 'Where in Hades did that come from? Get over it, Bucko; 
keep your distance; you'll only get hurt if you don't.'  Even as he was 
thinking that, he heard himself chuckle.  "Are you saying I should take 
my own advice, Cadet?"

He opened the folder and scanned the names listed. Paling as he hit a 
particular name, he turned towards the Commander's office too quickly 
and stifled a cry of pain.  Recovering, he rose slowly, his tight lips 
revealing his pain, and made his way to Tigh's door.  "Commander," he 
said choosing his words carefully, "Do you want me to find places for 
all of the officers on the injured list?"

A frown crossed Tigh's face, but he blanked it immediately. "Why do you 
ask, Colonel?"

"Only that ... some of them are of superior rank to mine." Starbuck 
held himself stiffly - hardly "at ease" even though that was the 
position he was in.

"One of them," Tigh corrected.

Starbuck couldn't meet Tigh's eyes. "One of them, yes sir."

"Do you have a problem with placing that officer?"

"No sir," Starbuck said ruthlessly tamping down on his emotions. "I 
just wanted to be sure you didn't want to handle it personally."

"I have every confidence in your abilities, Starbuck," Tigh assured him 
with his best approximation of a smile.

Starbuck remained standing in the doorway for several microns, folder 
in hand.  Finally he said, "Thank you, sir."

***

Starbuck had assigned all the disabled officers to classes according to 
their areas of expertise, taking into account their levels of patience 
and their disabilities.  Giving a warrior in a hover chair a hand-to-
hand fighting techniques course for first-year cadets would have been 
asking for trouble, as would giving someone with a low threshold of 
tolerance for slower students an introduction to alien cultures class. 
And Starbuck avoided trouble at all costs these days. He put his 
recommendations on Tigh's desk before leaving for the night, the last 
one out of the building, as usual.

He went to an automated drive-through to purchase dinner - one of 
Earth's finer ideas, in his opinion, since it allowed him to fulfill 
his nourishment requirements without contact with any sentient beings - 
and then proceeded to his quarters. He ate what he had bought - a 
"Number Three", whatever that happened to be - he ordered meals by 
number choosing the number at random - and got ready for sleep cycle., 
'Bedtime,' he corrected himself automatically.  He paused in his search 
for clean pajamas.  Maybe he should continue using Galactican terms; 
that would distance him from the Earth humans he encountered at the 
least.

His mind wandered from there to other things he did that either didn't 
help him or didn't matter in his current life.  Like pajamas, he 
thought.  Why bother covering his body when he was alone?  But the 
answer to that came immediately: he needed to hide his scars from 
himself.  At least the scars he could hide. Pajamas in hand, he sat 
heavily on the edge of his bed.  'Why bother with anything?' echoed in 
his head. 'Because the Cylons will have won if you give up,' he 
answered that voice of despair. 'As long as you can keep functioning,' 
he lectured himself, 'as long as you can be useful, they failed. Do it 
for Boomer. Do it for Zac and Ila and Serina and all the others. Boomer 
never gave up; neither did Zac, up until the micron they died. You're 
alive and you owe it to them to live.'

'Yeah, right.  "Live" is a relative term,' the cynical voice in his 
head replied. Then, despite his best efforts to put that name from the 
list of disabled warriors out of his mind, he drifted back to a time 
when his being alive mattered as more than a Pyrrhic victory in 
humanity's war against the Cylons.  When he mattered to someone.

***

"Tired, Starbuck?" Apollo asked as they got up from the table.

Starbuck looked up slyly from beneath lowered eyelids. "Never too tired 
for you, Captain."

"I was hoping you'd say that," Apollo replied, smiling at him. "Meet me 
in my quarters in half a centar. I just need to make some quick 
arrangements."

"Fine," Starbuck agreed, thinking Apollo meant he needed to arrange for 
Boxey to stay the night with either his grandfather or aunt. "I'll just 
freshen up."

"You do that," Apollo answered. "See you in a bit." He turned towards 
Athena, who was talking to one of the Adulterer families, as Starbuck 
left. Once he was sure Starbuck was out of sight, Apollo detoured to 
Boomer to make some arrangements Starbuck didn't suspect, then 
continued to his sister, who readily agreed to keep Boxey overnight.

***

Starbuck walked into Apollo's darkened quarters and was instantly 
stopped by gentle hands on his shoulders. Before his eyes could adjust 
to the dim light, a soft blindfold covered them. "Apollo?" he asked 
uncertainly. 

"Just wanted to give you a special, private welcome home," Apollo's 
voice whispered in his ear. "Figured you needed relaxing. So relax and 
enjoy."

He could do that, Starbuck thought as he stood still and allowed 
himself to be undressed. Somewhere along the line, he realized there 
were more than two hands moving about his body, removing his clothes, 
and stroking him. He stiffened and mentally reviewed Apollo's words. 
The meaning remained the same, but he now realized Apollo had used no 
pronouns. Starbuck took a step away from the hands. "Apollo?" he asked 
again, a definite quaver in his voice.

"It's okay," Apollo's voice came soothingly along with strokes along 
his arms. "I'm right here." But someone else pulled down his pants as 
Apollo spoke.

"Then who...?" But Apollo cut off Starbuck's question with a gentle 
kiss to his lips. "Trust me?" Apollo asked. Starbuck nodded. "Then 
relax. Consider this a welcome home present." 

He was kissed on both cheeks at once. Then each of his hands was 
enveloped in two others and he was led to Apollo's bed and laid down on 
his back. Gentle massage with warm, dry hands began in his hair and 
simultaneously at his left foot. The top massager moved down to his 
ears and then began a sensual tracing of his face as the bottom 
massager thoroughly soothed each foot in turn.

Next, warm oil was drizzled on his limbs and firmly massaged in, going 
up to his shoulders and over his breast bone on his upper body, but 
only to his lower thighs on his legs. He sighed in disappointment, 
although he was feeling more relaxed than aroused, at least so far. 
Four strong, but gentle hands turned him over. Starbuck realized 
Apollo's partner must be male. He stirred in protest and shook his 
head. "No, please," he whispered.

The hands left him instantly. "What's wrong?" Apollo asked.

Starbuck felt foolish. He knew Apollo would never hurt him. "Nothing," 
he finally responded. "Just give me a micron to get used to the idea. 
It's a little disconcerting." 

A weight lifted off the end of the bed and a hand he knew was Apollo's 
rubbed the middle of his back. "This is supposed to be a pleasant 
surprise. Do you want me to take the blindfold off?" Apollo asked.

Starbuck felt like he was letting Apollo down, disappointing him. "No," 
he said. "I'm okay. I was never part of a threesome is all." He relaxed 
under Apollo's hand.

The weight came back onto the end of the bed and a casual hand was laid 
on his buttocks. "You're sure now?" Apollo asked. 

Starbuck smiled reassuringly and nodded.

The massage oil was drizzled along his back and down his thighs. Hands 
worked tight muscles until Starbuck lay limp, humming his pleasure. 
Then he was rolled onto his side and the massage became more intimate. 
But by that time, Starbuck had accustomed himself to the idea and moved 
languidly into the caresses. His nipples were rolled and massaged at 
the same time his buttocks were. One set of hands drifted slowly 
downward, teasing his navel, while the other set began exploring his 
inner thighs. The base of his penis was reached simultaneously with his 
scrotal sac being found. Arousal had long since replaced relaxation. He 
moaned and tried to be more fully held by both men at once. Now the 
head of his penis was being thumbed while careful fingers separated his 
buttocks and stroked his cleft. Moans became whimpers as he thrust back 
and forth with increasing urgency. When his hard aching rod was firmly 
grasped he surged forward into it, causing the two men ministering to 
him to laugh and stroke his arm and back until he quieted. But when a 
questing finger sought his puckered rear opening, he cried out in 
alarm.

"Just a finger, I promise," Apollo said. "I'll let you know everything 
before it happens." Apollo stretched out along Starbuck's front as he 
spoke, never letting go of his still hard cock. 

Starbuck nodded into Apollo's shoulder, noting from the soft suede that 
he was still dressed. Another body stretched out behind Starbuck, and 
he felt the suede on that one, too. He buried his face in Apollo's 
shoulder and nodded again. 

"Go ahead," Apollo directed softly.

The finger, which had remained still at Starbuck's rear entrance began 
slowly twisting in. Starbuck whimpered, more at not knowing the owner 
of the invasive digit than at the pain he knew would turn to pleasure 
very soon. Apollo stroked Starbuck's penis slowly, providing a mild 
distraction. When the finger was fully in, he paused a moment until 
Starbuck relaxed, then asked, "Ready?" At Starbuck's nod, both finger 
and hand began pumping slowly, and Starbuck was soon moaning and 
thrusting back and forth again. 

"Ready for more?" Apollo asked without stopping and Starbuck nodded 
instantly.

The first finger came all the way out on the next pump and was replaced 
with two, without interrupting the rhythm. Starbuck cried out at the 
speed with which the stretching was increased, but didn't stop his own 
motion. The two fingers scissored inside him, grazing his prostate with 
each motion, until his movements were no longer coordinated thrusts, 
but constant writhing. Open-mouthed panting replaced the moans. 

"Do you want to cum now?" Apollo asked.

"Please, please, please," Starbuck begged.

The fingers were removed and now three were forced in, pumping fully in 
and almost completely out with hard thrusts that almost flattened the 
pleasure-giving gland. His penis was held and pumped with equal 
firmness.

Starbuck screamed wordlessly, stiffened, and came violently, his spasms 
pushing both men away from him. When he was done, he lay shivering and 
sobbing, alarming the man behind him, but Apollo shook his head "no" at 
the expression of concern. 

The two bodies closed against him, each man holding onto the other with 
his free hand to keep Starbuck trapped between them. Apollo let 
Starbuck unwind for several centons before asking, "Can you stay still 
now?" 

With an effort, Starbuck stilled his shaking body and silenced his 
sobs. Still quivering slightly and panting, he nodded. 

"All right. Our turn next. Don't move, we'll be right back."

The two men moved into the bathroom to clean their hands. When he was 
sure they were out of Starbuck's hearing, Boomer said, "Are you sure 
he's okay?"

Apollo nodded. "I warned you. This happens every time. Someday I'll 
find out why, and maybe having you join us will help. I've learned to 
ignore it though. It embarrasses him, but he can't control the 
reaction." He dried his hands and started slipping out of his clothes. 
"Come on, before he thinks we've abandoned him."

Boomer quickly followed suit and the two men resumed their positions. 

Starbuck could feel both their nakedness and their arousal and it 
soothed him. 

"I'm going to take your mouth now, okay?" Apollo asked. Starbuck nodded 
and opened his mouth to receive Apollo's pulsing organ. 

Apollo waited until Starbuck had accommodated him before continuing. 
"Now you're going to be stretched again and then filled in back, too." 
He pushed further into Starbuck's mouth to forestall the whimpered 
protest. "You're ready for it. It won't hurt," he assured him.

Boomer stretched Starbuck quickly, three strokes, three fingers, then 
thrust his own cock in with a groan.

Starbuck had almost wet himself in his anxiety at having an unknown 
person fuck him, but he managed to control himself and only a drop or 
two spilled. Whoever it was, he was wider than Apollo, but not 
painfully so. He indicated his readiness to continue by sucking on 
Apollo's cock. 

Before he could continue, Apollo caught his head and held it still. "I 
told you, this is your welcome home present. You don't do any work this 
time. Just wait 'til next time though," he laughed.

Boomer groaned at the thought of "next time" and involuntarily thrust 
deeper.

Starbuck struggled at the unexpected push. This man was also longer 
than Apollo and had reached new territory. But his struggle was short-
lived as the two men fucking him found a rhythm and pain went straight 
through pleasure to overwhelm his senses. Starbuck's cock hardened 
again and, without being touched, he climaxed. His spasms, immediately 
followed by the violent trembling of his reaction, set Boomer off. 
Starbuck's gasp at the hot liquid spurting inside him was all it took 
for Apollo to thrust fully into his mouth and down his throat as he, 
too, went over the peak.  

Starbuck was too far gone to attempt to swallow and Apollo was too far 
down his throat in any case. He began to gag. Apollo quickly pulled out 
in time to see Starbuck climax a third time - within centons of his 
second - spewing semen as he bucked wildly. 

Boomer's eyes opened wide as he, too, came again. 

The sight of his two best friends and lovers set Apollo off with a 
howl, and he ejaculated in a long stream over both of them. He pulled 
himself back to Starbuck and held him closely as Boomer pulled out.

Then Boomer, too, held Starbuck's trembling form until the blond went 
limp from exhaustion. Apollo removed the blindfold and turned Starbuck 
to face Boomer. Starbuck's eyes fluttered open and went wide with 
surprise. 

Boomer kissed Starbuck full on the lips, tasting Apollo, and murmured, 
"Welcome home!"

***

Starbuck shook his head to clear it.  He was still sitting on the edge 
of his bed, but his pajamas had dropped from his hands.  The hands were 
busy at his groin, kneading and fondling.  'Why bother?' floated into 
his mind yet again.  The doctors had made it clear there wasn't going 
to be anything to bother about down there anymore.  Yet occasionally he 
had awakened, from nightmare or the more pleasant 'wet' dream, wet only 
by the perspiration that soaked through the bed clothes, but with a 
familiar aching sensation in his genitals and, once or twice, what 
looked like the start of an erection, gone almost as soon as he became 
aware of it.

He glanced down, feeling the pleasant ache; his penis was definitely 
growing and stiffening under his hands.  'Maybe the doctors were 
wrong,' he thought, slowly rolling onto his back on the bed, trying not 
to disturb his body's incipient awakening. He came with a gasp, 
followed immediately by crushing pain as his body rebelled against the 
violent movements of his orgasmic spasm. His vision greyed and all 
thought was lost to pain.

He came back to his senses to find himself curled in a ball on his side 
on the bed. His hands were sticky and he brought them up to inspect as 
he slowly uncurled.  Apparently he was still fully capable of sexual 
response.  It was the aftermath that prohibited it.  'Maybe that's why 
the doctors told me I couldn't have sex anymore,' he thought bitterly 
and laughed at himself: it was a moot point - who could get close 
enough to arouse him anyway? Only memories. 'Can't even remember the 
good times,' he said, laughter dying on his lips. 'Frak you, Baltar - 
why didn't you finish the job?  Why did you leave me alive like this?'

***

Part 2

A tall dark-haired warrior with his left arm in a sling strode into the 
office.  Lydia was the only one to notice.  She jumped to rigid 
attention.  "Commander in the room!" she called out. 

Her cry brought Starbuck's head up and Tigh to his inner office door.  
Starbuck responded first, rising slowly, but not going to attention. 
"Commander Apollo.  We've been expecting you."  His voice was formal 
and distant; his eyes didn't meet the visitor's. He turned to Lydia.  
"Cadet," he began, then chuckled.  "At ease, Cadet. Let me introduce 
you.  Commander Apollo, this is First-year Cadet Goren, who works part-
time in the administrative office. Lydia, Strike Commander Apollo of 
the Battlestar Galactica.  Please get Commander Apollo a chair and help 
him with his cape."

***

Apollo smiled and nodded an acknowledgment to the Cadet as she placed a 
chair in front of Starbuck's desk.  He sat and Starbuck followed suit.

Starbuck immediately began searching through a stack of papers on his 
desk.  Apparently it required his full attention to do so, as he 
ignored Apollo entirely. It gave Apollo a chance to really look at him 
without appearing to stare. In the blue and silver uniform that set off 
his fair complexion so well, he looked healthy - more than healthy, 
Apollo thought, he looked as sexy and beautiful as he did in Apollo's 
dreams, as he had in Apollo's arms.  His arms ached and he knew it 
wasn't from the crushed elbow that kept him off the active-duty list. 
He shifted and brought his good arm up to cradle the elbow anyway.

Starbuck caught the movement and realized Apollo must be in pain. "I'm 
sorry, Commander," he said picking out the papers he'd been pretending 
to look for.  They were right where he knew they'd be. Without looking 
up he added,  "I'll just be another micron and you can be on your way."

Apollo nodded. "That'll be fine, Colonel.  Don't rush."

Starbuck's mouth turned down in a quirk of annoyance at Apollo's words, 
although he said nothing.

Apollo cursed himself for forgetting that Starbuck couldn't rush, not 
without severe pain.  'You'd never know he'd been tortured, almost 
dismembered,' Apollo thought. 'Except when he twitches like that,' he 
amended, as injudicious movements made Starbuck go completely still, 
thinning his lips and closing his eyes.

Tigh, pretending to be going through a drawer in the filing cabinet, 
stilled also, Apollo noted, then went back to riffling through the 
drawer's contents when Starbuck resumed his perusal of the papers in 
front of him.  In his peripheral vision, Apollo noted the cadet also 
stiffened, and consciously kept herself from turning towards her 
supervisor.  'Ah, Bucko,' he thought.  'You can't help bringing out 
everyone's protective instincts.  Are you still pushing everyone away - 
or is it just me?' Lulled by the quiet of the room and relaxed by the 
painkillers the doctors had pumped into him before releasing him from 
Life Center, Apollo found himself remembering when Starbuck didn't push 
him away.

***

Apollo opened the door to his quarters and was immediately treated to 
the wonderful smell of his favorite food. He drank in the smell and 
smiled as his mouth watered in anticipation, even though he was sure 
that protein squares had been used instead of the unavailable meat. And 
of course his favorite dessert was sitting in the middle of the table. 
The table was set for two, with only two candles to light up the room. 
Starbuck stood by, grinning from ear to ear.

"Are you just going to stand there all night, or is the natal boy 
coming over here for his present?" Starbuck said softly.

"I was beginning to think no one remembered," Apollo pouted.

"Hey, did you really think I would forget your special day?" Starbuck 
scolded as he pulled Apollo to him and gently kissed his lips.

When they sat down, Starbuck took up his fork and started feeding 
Apollo small mouthfuls. 

Grinning, Apollo followed suit. "Mmm,  this is really good, didn't 
think you were such a good cook," Apollo whispered.

"I'm not, Athena helped me."

"Oh, I see," Apollo laughed before adding, "Remember when we graduated 
from Academy, and she cooked this for us?"

Starbuck  chuckled. "Oh yes, your parents had gone out for the evening 
to a play and it was her first time cooking a big meal all by her 
self."

"And she burned it to a crisp, even the grain."

"But we ate it anyway and told her it was the best meal we'd had in a 
long time, just to stop her from crying."

"I love you," Apollo whispered.

"And I love you."

The two shared a long, passionate kiss that soon led them into Apollo's 
bedchamber, shedding their clothes along the way. By the time they 
reached the large bed both men were completely naked, their precum 
dripping and mixing together. Neither man remembered climbing onto the 
bed, but they were suddenly there, Starbuck down between Apollo's legs, 
licking and sucking hungrily.

Somehow Apollo managed to reach into the drawer of the bedside table 
for the tube of lube they kept in there, and cover his fingers with it. 
"Come up here, Starbuck, I want inside you."

Giving Apollo's cock one last lick from base to tip, Starbuck quickly 
obeyed, Apollo giving him a hot, hungry kiss as he slipped his hands 
down between Starbuck's legs and inserted one finger inside. Starbuck 
trembled at the feeling, closing his eyes so Apollo wouldn't see the 
fear that suddenly crept into them.

While Apollo slowly and expertly prepared his lover, visions of a 
strange light bulb like creature filled Starbuck's mind. He shook it 
off and concentrated on what Apollo was doing to him, the massaging of 
his prostate bringing him close to the edge.

Apollo knew by the change in Starbuck's moans that his lover was close 
to coming. Taking the lube he covered his hard aching cock with it and 
raised Starbuck's legs above his shoulders and replaced his fingers 
with his cock, pushing in slowly so Starbuck wouldn't feel any pain, 
only blessed pleasure.

Starbuck trembled as Apollo entered him, moaning softly as he felt his 
lover's cock fill him. Once more the vision of that strange creature 
filled his mind, but this time a Cylon centurion was standing beside 
it. Starbuck fought hard to clear his mind of these visions, but this 
time he heard the creature say  "You are being used for an experiment. 
You will not be physically harmed."

'Where did that come from?' Starbuck thought, as Apollo thrust inside 
him.

He concentrated harder on what was happening here and now, Apollo's 
thrusts coming harder and faster, pounding into him, his orgasm rising.

"If you cooperate, I'll allow you to ejaculate again when we've 
concluded the experiment." Starbuck heard the strange creature's voice 
once more, again not understanding why.

The vision changed, and a Cylon was standing above him, a Cylon out of 
armor, who was pushing something long and slimy into Starbuck's mouth. 
The strange light bulb creature was standing between his legs, his 
spread legs, and doing something to him.

He felt Apollo come inside him, the feel of the hot cum shooting inside 
him bringing him off immediately. Starbuck screamed wordlessly, 
stiffened, and came violently, his spasms almost throwing Apollo off of 
him. When he was done, he lay shivering and sobbing, alarming Apollo, 
as always.

"Starbuck! Starbuck what's wrong? Why do you always react this way?"

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

"Starbuck there must be a reason. It started after Kobol; is it because 
I married Serina? You know I didn't love her the way I love you. I only 
married her to keep my father happy and at the time I thought the 
Cylons had killed you."

"It has nothing to do with Serina. I think while I was on that base 
ship the Cylons did some kind of an experiment on me, a sexual 
experiment."

"What? Are you saying they raped you?"

"Yes Apollo, I think they did."

***

Starbuck watched the emotions flit over Apollo's face.  The green eyes 
were closed, so it was safe to look at him. It had only been six weeks 
since Apollo was injured overseeing the outer planets mop-up operation.  
Maybe he was trying to come back too soon.  Apollo had always been a 
bad patient and Life Center had probably been glad to release him as 
soon as possible. "Commander? Apollo?" He wiped the concerned 
expression off his face as soon as Apollo looked up, becoming all 
business again.

Starbuck's voice saying his name brought Apollo back to the present.  
"Sorry, I think Paye mixed a sedative in with the painkillers and anti-
inflammatories he shot me full of."

Starbuck didn't reply, merely held out the papers he'd been perusing.  
"Here are the syllabus and class lists.  Two sections of advanced 
strategy."

"Shouldn't you be teaching those, Bucko?" Apollo said teasing, as he 
accepted the papers.

"I don't teach, Commander," Starbuck replied stiffly. "I'm unsuited for 
a classroom situation for both medical and psychological reasons." He 
pushed himself slowly out of his chair. "Besides, this is a command 
track course.  I don't have the proper background to teach it." 

Apollo looked pointedly at the blue uniform Starbuck wore, but the 
Colonel gave him no time to respond. "If you have any questions or feel 
the assignment isn't appropriate..."

Apollo rose, too.  "No," he said after glancing at the syllabus. "It 
looks familiar enough.  If I have any questions?"

Starbuck gave the same answer he had given Lydia on her first day.  
"I'm always here."  He glanced down at his paper-littered desktop as if 
eager to get back to it.

"Well." Apollo had never been the one with the glib tongue and he 
didn't know how to prolong the conversation now.  "Thank you, Colonel." 
He held out his hand to Starbuck.

Starbuck immediately flinched backwards, away from the reaching hand, 
nearly upsetting his chair.  He winced as his joints complained at the 
sudden movement, but Apollo could clearly see the fear that joined the 
pain in his eyes.

Lydia was out of her chair and had taken a step towards the pair, arm 
out in a warding off gesture, but Tigh was faster. He'd given up the 
pretense of looking for a file as soon as he'd heard Starbuck's 
response to Apollo about teaching.  He had turned around, prepared to 
intervene, and now reached Apollo in two steps, pulling him away from 
the desk with a hand on his shoulder. "The Colonel doesn't like to be 
touched," he reminded Apollo in a low voice.

"I only ..." Apollo began, then trailed off.  He only hoped to rekindle 
their relationship, starting with a touch of skin on skin, to awaken 
old memories. But he'd awakened the wrong ones. And he couldn't tell 
Tigh that anyway. "I'd forgotten," he finished lamely.  Turning towards 
Starbuck, he said, "I'm sorry, Colonel.  You hide your injuries well.  
I'll be more careful in the future."

Starbuck nodded brusquely, not trusting himself to respond.  He turned 
to Lydia.  "Please annotate the Advanced Strategy files and the 
Commander's personnel record to indicate his acceptance of his 
assignment."

Apollo hesitated a moment longer, but Starbuck didn't turn back to him.  
Tigh squeezed his shoulder in sympathy.  Apollo bade him good day and 
left the office.

***

"How is Starbuck doing?" Apollo asked. He had asked the same question 
of Commander Tigh and gotten a look that told him if he didn't know, he 
should, and since he didn't the Commander wasn't going to enlighten 
him.  It hadn't helped his guilt complex at all. 'At least I didn't 
start whining about how my schedule kept me away,' he thought ruefully. 
'I guess old Salik cured me of trying to excuse myself.'

Lost in his own thoughts, Apollo didn't see the looks that passed 
between Jolly and Greenbean.  Greenbean, having lost an arm in the Last 
Battle, was a permanent instructor.  He taught what he termed "Remedial 
Survival in Space" and was the first-year advisor.  Jolly had gotten 
caught in a pinwheel and would be on oxygen therapy for a yahren - 
year, Apollo reminded himself.  He was teamed with a former test pilot 
running the Simulators.

It was Greenbean who spoke finally. "How long since you saw him last?"

Apollo blushed and dropped his eyes.  "Three yahrens," he muttered.

"Ah. Well. A lot's happened since then.  Him and me got shuttled down 
to Earth when Salik moved down.  Neither of us was going to be much use 
on a Battlestar anymore.  But that was half a yahren after ..." He 
caught Jolly's frantic gestures and changed direction. "Anyway, Salik 
got us used to Earth's gravity and gave us busy work to do, but 
Starbuck got bored.  About drove Salik crazy - Salik wanted to deal 
with his psychological problems and Starbuck wasn't having any of it - 
you know Bucko."  He paused and sipped his grog.  "So Salik dragged 
Tigh down to Life Center and said 'Take any of 'em you want - take all 
of 'em if you want.  They're just getting in my way setting up a proper 
facility.'" 

The three men chuckled together, then Greenbean continued.  But Tigh 
said he didn't need bodies, he needed minds - that let me out." 
Greenbean grinned. "So he took Starbuck.  I think it was pre-arranged, 
you know?"

Apollo nodded his agreement. "Probably was.  How long ago was that?"

"Oh.  Must be two years. Yeah.  That would be ..." he did some mental 
calculations, "about two and a half yahrens ago.  This is the third 
year for the New Academy and Starbuck came in formally as Tigh's second 
just about the second semester of first year."

Apollo sighed.  "It didn't seem that long until I saw him," he 
murmured.  "So he's okay?"

"He's doing pretty well.  I think he shorts himself on his meds, but 
not enough to be unable to get around.  He's still got that knack for 
knowing who'll make the best team and who can cross-train and teach 
something they never thought they could.  Like me teaching newbies!"  
He grinned and continued in a softly grateful tone.  "He found a way 
for me to fly, Apollo.  Gods bless him for that if nothing else."

Jolly picked up the conversation.  "I always expected Boomer to second 
Tigh, he's always been so steady and consistent.  But you know, working 
with Linc, that's my co-instructor - Captain Lincoln Macroyd, I've 
learned a few things. It's kind of funny, the way it ends up is I teach 
the Earthers and he tests them while he teaches the Galactican kids and 
I test 'em."

Apollo smiled.  Leave it to Starbuck to find a way to integrate two 
cultures into one Academy with no one feeling inferior.  And he hadn't 
heard a single gripe out of anyone about this being a make-work 
position or how it was a poor substitute for "the real thing".  And he 
would have, if nothing other than jealous sarcasm.  But it wasn't what 
Apollo was asking.  "But how is he, really?" This time Apollo caught 
the look that passed between the two men.  "Please tell me," he begged. 

"He keeps to himself, mostly, Commander," Jolly said, toying with his 
drink.  "He's not hiding, just doesn't mix.  He'll come into the OC if 
he misses a meal in the mess hall, but other than that, he's around but 
not real social."

"The Department Heads, like me, do the audits.  I've never seen him 
visit a class or conduct an interview.  He's at the assemblies, 
inspections, stuff like that, of course, but he's like Tigh - Commander 
Tigh's shadow there: follows him through the ranks taking notes. He 
makes the faculty assignments, but it's all done through the computer 
system, 'email', you know? Same with student housing, mentoring 
assignments, whatever.  He doesn't ..." Greenbean searched for a word. 
"He doesn't initiate contact."

"He keeps his distance," Jolly put in.  "To be fair, Commander, he puts 
in long hours and doesn't have the semester breaks the rest of us do - 
he's got to be setting up for the next semester during the break.  And 
I heard he pushes himself so hard it's all he can do to get to his 
quarters at the end of the day."

"That's the truth," Greenbean agreed.  "I'll be honest, it's easy to 
forget to invite someone when you don't see him much, but I do try to 
remember."  He shook his head.  "A lot of the time he'll beg off - too 
much work to do or too tired - but every now and then he'll accept.  He 
always seems surprised when I ask though. I'm afraid that people who 
don't know him think he's a loner.  I mean, we know better, that he's 
in chronic pain and ... some of the other things he deals with.  But a 
lot of folks don't know he's disabled at all - it's not like it's 
visible -  and if he turns them down a couple of times, they just don't 
ask again."

"The kids, especially the Earth kids who don't know who he is, they 
think he's weird," Jolly put in.  "They call him, wait a micron, let me 
get it right, 'a cold fish' - yeah, that's it."

***

"Oh my God!"

Starbuck jumped at the sudden exclamation, then winced. "What's wrong, 
Cadet?"

"Nothing sir.  I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.  I just 
realized the time."

Starbuck looked at the office chrono.  "It is late.  We've been working 
well past regular office hours," he acknowledged.  "If you need to 
leave, go ahead."

"Yes, sir.  Thank you." Lydia gathered up her things hurriedly. "If I 
run, I might make it to the dorm before lockup."

"Don't you have," Starbuck searched for the right Earth term, "a car?" 
Lydia shook her head.  "I can drive you ... if you like," he offered, 
bracing himself for a refusal.

"Oh, I don't want to put you out, sir," Lydia began.

Starbuck shrugged, denying the hurt her polite rejection caused. He 
cursed himself for offering, but the words were out of his mouth before 
he could censor himself.

Something in the way he sagged back into his seat caught Lydia's 
attention and she changed the rest of her sentence. "But if it isn't 
too much trouble, I'd really appreciate it," she concluded.

"I should leave, too.  It won't put me out; I'm quartered on-base."  He 
pulled on his cape and indicated she should precede him out the door.

Lydia had been considering the odd fact Starbuck had given out - the 
Colonel kept his personal life completely private, so she knew nothing 
about his life outside the administrative office. She was surprised to 
learn he lived on-base; she thought all senior officers lived in the 
community. As she passed him, Lydia's stomach rumbled and she murmured 
an embarrassed apology.

Starbuck waved the apology off. "Neither of us had last meal - I mean 
supper - and my guess is your dorm mess is closed by now." Lydia 
nodded.  "Do you want to stop and pick something up?"

"That really would be putting you out," she demurred.

Starbuck decided to set her straight. "My food intake's monitored. I'm 
going to have to stop for something at the OC or I'll be on report to 
Life Center by the time I get in tomorrow morning. So I'm not doing you 
any favors: I go right by the First-Year Co-ed dormitory and I'm 
stopping for food on my way to my quarters anyway."

Lydia wondered at his brusque tone and averted head.  He never quite 
looked at her, she realized.  He was an odd man, but she enjoyed 
working for him.  "I am hungry," she admitted.  "And I've never been in 
the Officer's Club.  So if you're going to stop anyway, I'd be happy to 
tag along."

***

Starbuck automatically scanned the occupants of the OC as he entered.  
Not that he intended to invite himself to join anyone, but just to be 
prepared in case someone approached him.  Few did, but there was the 
occasional old comrade who felt some tinge of obligation, and by being 
ready he could usually avoid insulting them.

Lydia followed a step behind, feeling out of place among all the high-
ranking blue and brown Galactica uniforms, along with the green, grey, 
and navy blue of the Earth military.  "There's enough brass here to 
make a new Liberty Bell," she muttered.

Starbuck had just spotted Apollo and Bojay in a spirited conversation 
and stopped short.  Lydia's comment gave him an excuse for it.  "Beg 
pardon?" he said.  "I've tried to learn Earth English, but either I 
misheard you or what you just said ..."

Lydia blushed.  "I'm sorry.  'Brass' is for all the medals and 
insignia.  There's a lot of that in here.  And the Liberty Bell is one 
of the symbols of the United States."

"Ah, that makes sense then," Starbuck acknowledged.  He thought through 
to her real meaning. It suited him to be inconspicuous as well.  "How 
about if we sit over there?" He indicated a table on the periphery 
half-hidden by the bar.

"Don't you want to sit with your friends?" Lydia asked.

"I don't have any ..." Starbuck began, then abruptly changed course. 
His loneliness and isolation was not her concern. "...time right now."  
At her expression, he changed course again. "I'm tired and hungry. I 
just want a quiet place to eat before I go to my quarters."

"Well, if you're sure," Lydia said uncertainly.  The Colonel certainly 
was a strange one. "I don't want you to feel you have to sit alone with 
me just because I'm uncomfortable.  First year cadets are supposed to 
be uncomfortable."

'And I'm sure I add significantly to that discomfort,' Starbuck 
thought. He knew he should be pleased with that, it proved he was 
staying aloof, but instead he just felt another pang of loneliness. 
'Get over it,' he told himself.  'The last thing she needs is someone 
who can give nothing and can't even take graciously.' "Go ahead and 
grab that table," was the only response he made. "You can move faster 
than I can and this place is ridiculously crowded for this cycle - 
hour."

Lydia nodded and moved quickly to secure the table.  She was ignored by 
the wait staff, who were too polite to usher a cadet out as long as she 
wasn't causing trouble and no officer asked them to do so, but they 
weren't about to serve her.  As soon as Starbuck arrived, however, a 
waiter magically appeared to help him into his chair. "Amazing," she 
said after Starbuck asked for dinner menus and the man scurried away 
obsequiously. 

"Ah, he's an old-time Galactica OC staffer," Starbuck said. "Knows me 
for yahrens - years - and fusses whenever I've been hurt.  Afraid I 
won't be able to tip him adequately if I'm put on permanent disabled, I 
guess."  He grinned at her.

She grinned back, self-conscious, but delighted at his off-hand remark.  
She knew instinctively she was seeing his real personality. Before she 
had to conjure up and answer, the waiter was back with a carafe of 
something golden, two goblets, and the requested menus.

Starbuck considered sending the ambrosa back, but decided against it.  
He was due for another round of meds, the heavy dose that let him sleep 
relatively pain-free, so it was probably safe to sip one glass with his 
meal.  By the time he took the meds, the alcohol would be pretty much 
out of his system, as the meds were now. He signaled for the waiter to 
pour for them.

"Not to be rude, but what is this?" Lydia asked.  "I didn't think you 
ordered anything to drink."

"I didn't.  But Danny knows me, as I said, and I always used to order a 
bottle of ambrosa, that's what this is, whenever I brought a date into 
the OC.  He just assumed." He paused, realizing what he had just said. 
"I didn't mean to offend you," he said hurriedly.  "I'm not suggesting 
this is a date or that I have any ... thoughts that are ... 
inappropriate.  It's just that I didn't want to insult him and ..." he 
stopped and toyed with his glass, realizing he was babbling. 'Frak! Why 
didn't I just let her go home by herself.  She's a warrior candidate 
for Sagan's sake! She should be able to take care of herself.'

"Oh, you haven't offended me at all, Sir," Lydia answered quickly.  She 
didn't understand the sudden, lost look on his face or the tears 
glinting in his eyes, but she wanted to reassure him.  "I didn't think 
you were asking me out or anything.  Just doing me a favor."

Starbuck pulled himself together.  "Sorry. I am tired and overdue for 
my meds.  I get a little ... disoriented sometimes when that happens.  
Ambrosa is alcoholic, but it's one of the finest drinks I've tasted on 
Earth or anywhere else.  But if you don't want it, please order 
something else.  Are you ready to order?"

"I'd like to try it," Lydia said, picking up the untouched glass. She 
took a sip.  "This is fabulous!" she exclaimed and took another, larger 
drink.

"Be careful.  Despite its sweet taste, it's quite potent," Starbuck 
said, laughing despite himself. "That's why it's so often useful in a 
seduction."

"Oh my," Lydia said.  "I'll go more slowly then.  She glanced at the 
menu, unsure what to select under the circumstances.  She noticed 
Starbuck hadn't opened his menu.  "Would you order for me, please?"  
His expression clouded abruptly and she hurried to add.  "I know we're 
not on a date.  But I don't know what half the stuff on the menu is."  
She breathed a mental sigh of relief when his expression cleared.

"Sure.  No problem.  There's still a tendency toward Galactican food 
here." He signaled Danny who was hovering unobtrusively just beyond 
earshot and gave their order. He glanced longingly in Apollo's 
direction, then tore his eyes away. He took a sip of the ambrosa and 
stared silently into the glass.

Lydia broke the awkward silence.  "You were a warrior before you helped 
form the Academy, weren't you?"

"Yes, I was.  A hotshot viper pilot, to be exact. Just what we try to 
train you cadets not to be."

Lydia sighed.  "All the big battles are over anyway.  I'll probably 
never get the chance to be a hero."

"Being a hero isn't all it's cracked up to be," Starbuck retorted.  
"Besides, the fun is in flying a viper, not in being a hero."

"Tell me what it's like," Lydia asked, crossing her fingers that she 
wasn't stepping over some unseen boundary.

To her surprise, Starbuck actually smiled and took another sip of his 
ambrosa.  "Being a viper pilot?  It's like owning the universe.  Flying 
in space without another being or ship in sight.  Responsible for 
yourself.  And space - it's so beautiful. Surely you've been outside 
Earth's atmosphere?"

"Actually, no.  I passed the entrance exams using Sims."

"You're in for a treat then.  Try to get scheduled for introductory 
astrogation early.  They take you out to your moon to do your mapping 
and siting exercises.  That's about the easiest way you can get off-
planet quickly in the Academy."

"I'll do that.  Thanks for the tip, sir. Were you in the Last Battle?" 
Lydia asked, hoping to encourage Starbuck's expansiveness.

"For a short period.  I was on a sabotage mission and got caught."  
Starbuck frowned.  But he flicked his eyes up at Lydia and caught her 
expression of dismay.  He couldn't let her feel guilty for not knowing 
about his imprisonment.  "But that wasn't a good example of a real 
space battle anyway - it was planet-centered.  Now at Cimtar..."

Lydia listened in rapt attention, as Starbuck painted a verbal picture 
of one of the decisive battles in the thousand-yahren war with the 
Cylons.  Watching her face, Starbuck lapsed into story-teller mode, 
something that came naturally to him.  He paused occasionally to sip at 
his ambrosa or to answer Lydia's questions.

"Yes," he found himself saying without a micron of hesitation, "that's 
the same Apollo you met last secton.  We were at the original Caprican 
Academy - the first one founded in the Colonies - together.  He was my 
Captain, my immediate superior on the Galactica, and we were wing mates 
as well." 'And lovers,' he finished silently. "If you have the 
opportunity to serve under him, I highly recommend it.  He's a tough 
commanding officer, but he cares about his warriors and he knows his 
stuff." 'All his stuff.'

"Did you have all that non-fraternization that we do?" Lydia asked.

"Not to the extent that the Earth militaries seem to," Starbuck 
answered. "Or at least it isn't as strictly enforced.  I gather that my 
bringing you to the OC for a meal would be unacceptable in the Earth 
military academies."

"Pretty much," Lydia agreed.

"Well, it's not that bad here, as you can see," Starbuck pointed out. 
"And you could seal with - marry - a senior officer as long as you 
weren't in his direct chain of command.  So there was a bit of movement 
among the squadrons from time to time as people became involved with 
each other."

"Somebody like Commander Apollo, was he okay with that?"

"He was usually the one manipulating the squadron rosters," Starbuck 
said.  "Oh, he's strict, all right, but, like his father - that's 
Supreme Commander Adama - he's also reasonable. Now Commander Tigh, he 
was the hard-ass - sorry, by-the-book officer.  I think it was in his 
job description.  He was second to Commander Adama from before I came 
aboard the Galactica.  And they've been best friends I guess since 
their Academy days.  Kind of like me and Apollo."

"Oh dear!" Lydia interrupted.  "You should have gone ahead and sat with 
the Commander and that colonel then.  I bet you two have a lot to catch 
up on."

Starbuck shrugged.  "Bojay," was all he said at first.  "Colonel Bojay.  
He was my first wing mate.  We were posted to the Galactica straight 
from the Academy."

"I'm so sorry!  I've really gotten in the way!"

"No, don't think that," Starbuck said firmly.  Then he faltered. Funny 
how he could talk about the Destruction without a problem, but couldn't 
tell her that he wasn't one of "them" anymore. He fell back on habit: 
tell a truth which implies more than it really means and misleads the 
listener. "It's a long-held tradition that active duty officers like 
Boj' and Apollo don't associate with Academy officers like me.  Academy 
officers aren't considered real warriors."

His ruse worked, as it always had.  Lydia was annoyed at the tradition. 
"Well, aren't they Academy officers now?  Why do they think it's such a 
big deal?"

Starbuck chuckled.  "Well, you'll find out if you get the Colonel for a 
class; he's kind of stiff-necked.  He's always thought a lot of 
himself, so everyone else has to be lacking somehow.  Now the 
Commander, he'd welcome us both to his table.  It's just his way.  But 
he'd be uncomfortable and it wouldn't be right.  Not anymore."

Danny arrived with their meals just then and the conversation lapsed.  
When they picked it up again, Starbuck returned to more descriptive 
accounts of his adventures as a viper pilot. 

When Danny had brought over the ambrosa, he had passed close to 
Apollo's table.  The sight of the carafe of golden liquor with the two 
goblets struck a chord and Apollo followed the waiter's progress with 
his eyes, which remained fixed on Starbuck and Lydia long after Danny 
had left their table.

Blissfully unaware of anything but himself, Bojay continued his long-
winded complaint about female cadets and their unsuitability to the 
warrior ranks. "Sheba was the exception that proves the rule, dontcha 
know?" he said authoritatively.

Hearing Sheba's name, Apollo answered absently, "I'm sure you're right, 
Bojay." There was no point in arguing with the man where the late, 
unlamented daughter of Commander Cain was concerned. Bojay would mourn 
her until his dying day.  If Apollo had felt more relief than pain when 
she failed to return from a long-range patrol, he knew better than to 
say so.

Bojay warmed to his topic, and the grog - for which Apollo was paying 
but not drinking - completely oblivious to the fact that Apollo was no 
longer listening. He had just started on a new thread: "The females are 
always the ones who do the stupid things that anyone with the least 
common sense, no matter what planet they come from, would know better 
than to do.  And the Earth females are even worse than our own," when 
Starbuck and Lydia got up to leave.

Apollo abruptly excused himself and ran after them.  Starbuck was 
following Lydia, but either didn't see Apollo or chose to ignore him, 
Apollo never was quite sure which, so Apollo grabbed his arm at the 
elbow as he caught up with the pair just outside the OC. 

Starbuck was concentrating on what Lydia was telling him about the US 
military's "Don't ask, don't tell" rules when he was suddenly grabbed 
from behind.  His arm erupted in pain and all he could think to do was 
pull away and drop to the ground, cradling the affected arm with the 
other.  As he fought to maintain consciousness, he didn't notice who 
had tried to detain him or what happened afterwards. Long training 
alone kept him from screaming and bringing the entire OC onto the 
scene.  The late hour meant the parking lot was deserted, so they 
attracted no attention.

Lydia heard Starbuck's gasp and whirled to see her commanding officer 
being hurt by his supposed "best friend".  "Let go of him," she hissed 
at Apollo, pulling his hand away by the wrist just as Starbuck freed 
himself and collapsed. Realizing she had assaulted not just a superior 
officer but a commander, she dropped his wrist.  Kneeling to help 
Starbuck, she looked up at the stunned Apollo and snarled, "Leave him 
alone. What's wrong with you?  Haven't you hurt him enough?"

Apollo just stood there unable to say or do anything.

Lydia, suddenly aware of her blatant, if justified, insubordination, 
hurried to attend to Starbuck.  "Colonel," she prompted, unsure of 
where she could touch him or whether she should at all.  "How can I 
help you?"

"I think, if you don't mind, you'll have to help me get up," Starbuck 
managed.  He hoped she wouldn't be too disgusted by his history, which 
she had to know by now he was sure, to put her arm around him.

"Of course," Lydia, who knew nothing about the Colonel's injuries or 
how he got them, replied.  "I just don't want to hurt you worse."

"No chance of that," he assured her. "But if you mean making the pain 
worse, if you just avoid any joints, it should be all right. You'll 
have to pull me up until I can get my legs under me."

Lydia reached around Starbuck under his arms, hoping he meant the major 
joints of the limbs.  He hissed in pain, but nodded to encourage her.  
Slowly and painfully he got to his feet.  "Can I," he asked, steeling 
himself for a negative response, "put my arm around your shoulder?"

"Yes, sir, of course you can," Lydia replied, still holding on to him.  
Slowly they made their way to the car.

Apollo watched the couple leave, arm in arm.  The young cadet giving 
his beloved the support and care he should have been giving.  'Why did 
I let you go?  Why didn't I fight with you, show you how wrong you 
were?' he silently asked the retreating blond.

From the door to the OC, Bojay watched, snickering.  He knew Starbuck 
wasn't involved with the cadet, or anyone else.  He pondered how to 
turn this information to his advantage as he watched Apollo watching 
Starbuck leave him again.

***

Part 3

"You are so lucky, Lydia!" the red-haired cadet next to her at 
inspection whispered.

"What are you talking about, Robin?"

Robin's red curls bobbed as she nodded in the direction of the blond 
Colonel moving slowly through the ranks, taking notes on one of those 
alien pads as the dark-skinned Commander made comments.  "He's so 
gorgeous!"

Lydia looked more closely.  He was attractive, she realized. She'd 
never really noticed.  He was her boss and she'd never thought beyond 
that. "Yeah, I guess he is nice looking," she said thoughtfully.

"I wish I worked for him."

"*I* don't!" declared a cadet behind them.  "I hear he's weird! At 
least with Colonel Bojay you know he's a normal guy, even if he does 
think he's better than everyone else."

"I like working for Colonel Starbuck," Lydia said.  "I'm learning a 
lot; he answers all my questions and never gets impatient or annoyed."

"I hear he's a real by-the-book cold fish," the cadet retorted, not 
denying Bojay's supercilious attitude, which was felt even by those who 
didn't work for him or have him as an instructor.

"He couldn't be all that cold," Robin teased.  "He took Lydia to the 
Officer's Club and drove her to her dorm when he kept her after-hours."

Lydia rolled her eyes.  "He didn't keep me late.  I make my own hours.  
And there was nothing personal about it.  He'd do it for anyone.  
That's the way he is.  He just doesn't show it on the surface."

"That's for sure," the cadet behind them agreed.

They were shushed by an upper-classman as the review moved towards 
their rows, but the women continued gazing at the blond administrator 
with lust in their eyes.

In the shadows at the back of the rows of Academy instructors, a pair 
of eyes with a very similar emotion in them looked at the same person. 
There was something else in those green eyes though, wistful regret. 
The Commander they belonged to thought, 'Starbuck, what can I do? How 
can I get you back?'

***

Apollo still wasn't sure, but nobody mentioned that Starbuck and that 
first-year Earth cadet were together.  Jolly might try to hide it, but 
Bojay would have been broadcasting it and Greenbean would have slipped 
up and said something. So he argued with himself the whole way to the 
Administrative Office.  He hesitated at the door, hand on the ... knob, 
that's what it was called, a "door knob".

He was still staring at his hand when the door was yanked open. Cadet 
Goren put a hand on his chest and pushed him backwards, following him 
away from the door and pulling it closed after her. "Listen, 
Commander," she hissed.  "I know I'm way out of line here, but I can't 
let you keep hurting the Colonel."

Totally nonplussed, all Apollo could think to say was, "How did you 
know I was out here?"

Lydia jerked her head back towards the door.  "Frosted glass. I could 
see your silhouette."

"Then Starbuck, the Colonel, knows I'm here?"

"No," Lydia shook her head.  "He never looks up unless someone's 
talking to him."  She realized she had him pinned against the wall 
opposite the office door and dropped her hand.  "Sorry, sir. But he's 
done a lot for me, and I like him.  He has a rotten reputation just 
'cause he keeps to himself, but I'm sure he has his reasons and he 
doesn't deserve all the gossip and rumors. But most of all, he doesn't 
deserve what you do to him."

"What I do?"  Apollo started to redden in anger, then realized what she 
meant.  "I ... had forgotten how sensitive to pain he is. It's been a 
while since I saw him last. I didn't mean to hurt him, I just wanted to 
get his attention before he left the OC."

"So you could snub him because he's not a 'real' warrior anymore?"

"What?  Look, Cadet ... Goren, I don't know who's been feeding you that 
line, but"

"No one fed me anything . Sir.  Colonel Starbuck explained that was why 
you wouldn't want him sitting with you and Colonel Bojay."

Apollo took a deep breath.  "Are you sure he didn't say that Colonel 
Bojay would feel that way?"

Lydia thought for a moment, then replied sheepishly, "Yeah, maybe he 
did.  But he said you two were best friends and the first time I met 
you, you tried to touch him, then you grabbed him the other night."

"I really did forget," Apollo insisted. Then he hesitated. "Or maybe I 
just hoped he'd gotten ... better."  He sighed.  "Look, I know you mean 
well, but Starbuck and I were ... very close for a long time, and we've 
been separated for almost two yahrens - years - now.  I'd like to talk 
to him and I don't have a lot of time.  So, if you'll excuse me." He 
tried to walk around her, but she blocked his path again.

"Promise me you won't hurt him.  Sir. Your word as a warrior. Please."

Apollo looked into her eyes.  No, she wasn't in love with Starbuck, 
thank the Lords, but she was fiercely protective of him. 'Wonder what 
he did to get that response?' he thought idly. He answered her as 
passionately as she had asked. "I would never knowingly do anything to 
harm Starbuck.  He means more to me than my own life. On my honor as a 
warrior, I swear I won't hurt him. If he doesn't want to ... spend any 
time with me, I'll respect his decision."

"All right, then." Lydia stepped aside.  "I'm just going to the 
commissary to get us some lunch.  I'll be back in about twenty 
minutes," she warned.

Marshaling his courage, the Strike Commander of the Fleet took a deep 
breath and entered the Administrative Office. And came out five minutes 
later, shaking his head. "'Sorry, Commander'," he muttered. "'*Sorry, 
Commander*, but I have other plans?'" Apollo repeated Starbuck's words 
to him, then thought, "So much for 'poor Starbuck all by his 
lonesome'."  He marched off, head held high, determined not to make a 
fool of himself again.  His arm was healed enough for Bridge Duty, he 
decided. They'd just have to find another instructor for his classes.  
His mind made up, he headed for the shuttle field and the Galactica.

Inside the office, Starbuck whispered, "Please ask me again, Apollo." 
He shook his head at the fickle Fates.  Apollo would ask him to dinner 
on the one night all semester when he couldn't accept.  Commander Tigh 
was occupied with Commander Adama, so he had to participate in the 
weekly world-wide military academy commanders' teleconference, to make 
sure all the academies were synchronized for basic training of cadets, 
no matter what arm of the services they were signed up for.

***

How stupid was this?  He was actually crying. Sitting alone in his room 
- well, that wasn't unusual - but cryinng! What was wrong with him 
lately? He wondered whether his meds could be off.  He did hold off 
taking them, and then took as little as possible. 'Don't try to con 
yourself, Bucko,' he told himself. 'You know what the problem is.  He 
was here and except for the time when he first got here and caught you 
unaware, and the one time when you actually couldn't go out for dinner, 
he didn't ask to see you, alone or otherwise.  Maybe he thought you 
didn't want to be near him.  Or maybe he was glad you turned him down.  
He was supposed to be here for another four sectons - a month; you 
could have asked him to join you for a meal another time.'  He wiped 
his eyes again, but they just refilled. He hadn't done it; maybe 
couldn't take the risk that Apollo would say "no."  Better not to know 
for sure.  Now he wouldn't have to.  Apollo was gone, had been gone a 
secton now.  Leaving a hole in the faculty that Tigh - interfering with 
the faculty assignments for the first time - had blithely filled with 
Starbuck.  'I can't do it,' he muttered, ignoring the fact that he had 
- and done it well, judging by the enthhusiasm of the students.

He filled a glass with agua - water, he reminded himself - and took his 
pills, all of them this time.  Then he refilled the glass with ambrosa, 
several times.  Eventually he fell asleep, then into something deeper 
and more dangerous than sleep, the half-empty glass rolling out of his 
hand onto the carpeted floor.

***

He awoke in a life pod, lying on his side, tubes in his nose and other 
areas he didn't like to think about.  Dr. Salik's gruff voice, 
roughened even more by age, greeted him.  "Frakking foolish thing to 
do, Colonel, mixing drink with your meds."

"No one told me I couldn't drink," he protested, his voice faint.

"You must have been hurting bad, Bucko," came a voice that was 
painfully familiar and using a tone that had been missing for too long.

Starbuck spoke past a lump in his throat.  "Yeah," he agreed. 
"Hurting."

"Was that all it was?  You sucked down half a bottle of ambrosa because 
you were in pain?"

"What are you suggesting, Doctor?" a deep voice boomed.

'Oh my Gods! Bucko, you must have really done it this time,' Starbuck 
thought.  He struggled to roll onto his back, hoping against hope his 
ears had deceived him, knowing they hadn't. "Commander?  Commander 
Adama?" His voice was a croak in his ears.

The familiar features, full of concern, came into view under the full 
head of wavy white hair.  "I'm right here, Starbuck," the deep voice 
was softer now.

"Sir, I didn't ... wouldn't break my word to you." Starbuck felt hot 
tears of desperation on his cheeks and closed his eyes in shame.

"I know you wouldn't," Adama assured him.

A firm hand gripped his shoulder briefly, removed when he flinched. 
'Frak!' Starbuck thought. 'Can't even accept a friendly gesture.'

"How long does he have to be in here?" The lighter, yearned-for voice 
again.

"We'll rehydrate him and get his blood chemistry balanced and then, if 
he has someone to help him until he regains his strength, he can go 
back to his quarters."

"There's no one," Starbuck put in faintly. "No room in my quarters for 
a second person even if there was."

Commander Tigh's voice explained, "The Colonel has bachelor quarters on 
base.  Basically one multi-purpose room and a turbo wash."

"Then we'll move him up to the Galactica: to my quarters." Apollo's 
tone said that resolved the problem.

Salik sighed.  "He'll need to be supported when he changes position 
from sitting or lying down to standing.  You can't do that with your 
injury.  It's out of the question. He'll be fine here until he's able 
to manage by himself."

"But ..."

"Apollo, let it go," Tigh advised.  Then in a different tone of voice, 
"Cadet Goren. The Colonel's awake.  She can see him for a few centons, 
er minutes, can't she, Doctor?"

"Humph.  I suppose so.  Keep it brief, young lady.  My patient needs to 
rest."

Starbuck heard the men's voices fade as they moved away, still arguing 
over his care.  He sighed.

"Colonel?  It's Lydia.  I'll leave if I'm bothering you."

"No.  Not bothering me.  I just feel foolish for not thinking about 
what I was doing.  Thanks for coming by."

"I've been by every day since we found you.  The Commander, Commander 
Tigh, took me with him when you didn't show up at the office."

"Great."

"Um, do you need anything?"

"No, I don't ... wait.  Yes, maybe.  You have the code to my quarters?"

"Yes sir, but I'll forget it." 

Starbuck managed a laugh.  "Don't worry about it, there's nothing there 
worth taking - and I know you wouldn't take anything anyway.  But, 
could you go there and ... there's just one holocube, on the desk - if 
you could bring it to me?"

"Sure, I'd be glad to!  And, I couldn't help overhearing. I can't 
support you, but once you can move around a little, maybe I could help 
you out, so you could get out of here sooner."

Starbuck's smile was genuine.  "That's ... very kind of you.  I'll talk 
to Dr. Salik and see what he thinks."  He chuckled.  "In the meantime, 
think you could run interference between me and three Commanders, 
Cadet?"

***

Part 4

You who are on the road,
Must have a code
That you can live by.
And so become yourself
Because the past is just a good-bye.

Teach your children well,
Their fathers' hell 
Will slowly go by.
And feed them on your dreams;
The one they pick's the one you'll know by.

Don't you ever ask them why.
If they told you, you would cry.
So just look at them and sigh.
And know they love you.

And you of tender years,
Can't know the fears,
That your elders grew by.
So feed them on your dreams;
The one they pick's the one you'll know by.

Don't you ever ask them why.
If they told you, you would cry.
So just look at them and sigh.
And know they love you.

***

Why was that ancient Earth song running through his head? Must be 
because of the odd conversation he'd just had with Box - Troy.  Apollo 
shook his head.  His son had been Troy for five yahrens, or six years 
he reminded himself, now.  His conversations with Troy had always been 
odd, he reflected, even when he was still Boxey and taking into account 
that he was a child.  But tonight's conversation was even odd by Troy-
conversation standards. He replayed it mentally.

***

"Hey, Dad, got a minute?" Troy asked coming into Apollo's office area 
without waiting to be invited.

"Sure, son, have a seat.  I'll just be a centon."

"Minute, Dad.  'I'll just be a minute.'  We're on Earth now, remember?"  
Troy perched on the edge of Apollo's desk, making it virtually 
impossible for him to continue working.

"Fine," Apollo said, irritated.  "I'll just be a minute. And that 
minute will start when you let me regain my train of thought."

"Derailed you, huh?"  Troy grinned.

Apollo sighed and gave up.  "What can I help you with?"

"Done so soon?" 

The innocent raised eyebrows might have been inherited from Starbuck, 
he did them so perfectly, Apollo thought wistfully.  The ache in his 
abdomen when he thought about Starbuck, however peripherally, was still 
there.  'I should go down to the Academy and see him,' he thought, 
knowing he wouldn't. He tried to look stern and raised one of his own 
eyebrows in query.

Troy slid into the guest chair next to the desk and turned instantly 
serious.  "Dad, are you happy?"

"Is this what you need to talk to me about?  My emotional state? I'm 
... content.  Yes, I'd say I'm very content with the way things are."

Troy grimaced.  "First of all, I asked if you were happy, not content.  
I know you're content."

"Of course I am.  The Cylons have been defeated; we've found and 
settled on and around Earth; we've reestablished our culture and 
educational systems..."

"And in the second place," Troy continued speaking over what threatened 
to be a laundry list of "things we should be thankful for", "No, that's 
not what I want to ask you about."  He grinned sheepishly.  "It was 
just an attempt to open the conversation." 

Apollo nodded his understanding and pushed back his chair, settling 
more comfortably.

Troy recognized the motion as his father's way of preparing for a 
lengthy interruption and chuckled to himself. "Anyway, the reason I 
asked whether you were happy is, well, you've been alone since Mom 
died, and I wondered why."

'Not as alone as you think,' Apollo answered silently.  His actual 
response was quite different.  "That wasn't on purpose.  I guess I 
never found another woman who could measure up." 'Well, that's the 
literal truth;  the fact that I wasn't interested in a woman is besides 
the point,' he thought with satisfaction at his verbal ruse.

"Well, at least you didn't Seal with Sheba," Troy said agreeably.  
Apollo grimaced and Troy laughed.  "But don't you ever get lonely?"

"I have friends," Apollo said brusquely. "And I have dated on 
occasion."

"Yeah, I know," Troy said hesitantly.  "I guess I'm not asking the 
right question.  I mean, when Uncle Starbuck was around, I didn't give 
it any thought.  It was almost like when Mom was around."  He watched 
Apollo closely from beneath his lashes as he pretended to inspect his 
fingernails.

Apollo toyed with a stylus, trying to think of an answer.  Troy was 
entirely too perceptive, always had been.  Starbuck had always told 
him, "Listen to the kid, Apollo; he knows more than you do."  Starbuck 
had usually been right.  Starbuck.  

Apollo sighed.  "Starbuck and I were best friends.  He was always there 
for me." 'So how come you're not there for him?' he asked himself.

"So you weren't lonely 'cause Uncle Starbuck was with you?" Troy asked, 
choosing ambiguous words carefully.

"Uh, yeah, something like that," Apollo stammered, feeling his cheeks 
grow hot.

"Did you ever, uh, wish you and Starbuck could really be a couple; I 
mean like you and Mom were?"

Apollo choked.  "I ... we ... it isn't ... your grandfather would never 
have ... " He took a deep breath.  "Why are you asking me this?" he 
demanded, then immediately wondered if he really wanted to hear the 
answer.

Troy grinned again.  "I'm asking because I have a very close friend and 
I've been wondering if you have to Seal with a woman and have kids to 
be happy."

"Oh."  Apollo didn't know what to say beyond that.  "I was happiest 
when Starbuck and I were together."

"I thought so," Troy said smugly.

"I didn't - no, I did say that aloud, didn't I?" Apollo asked 
miserably.

"Yes, you did.  But it's okay, Dad.  That's exactly what I wanted to 
know.  Thanks."  He stood up and headed for the door.

"That's it?" Apollo asked, bewildered.

"Pretty much.  Thanks." He stepped into the doorway, then turned back 
again.  "You and Grandfather ought to have this talk, you know.  He and 
Uncle Tigh have been together since before the Destruction.  He told me 
Grandma Ila was okay with it as long as they left it on-board the ship 
when they came planetside."

***

"Were you feeding me your dreams, Troy, or showing me which of mine 
you'd picked?" Apollo mused, the lyrics of the old classic still 
echoing in his mind. He rolled the chair back to the desk to return to 
work, then abruptly changed his mind.  Refusing to give his usual 
studied consideration to the sudden urge he had, he shrugged on his 
jacket and strode onto the bridge, calling to Omega to have his 
personal shuttle ready by the time he reached the shuttle bay.  In 
answer to Omega's query as to destination, he replied, "The New 
Academy."

As the doors closed behind Apollo, Omega smiled over at Troy, who was 
emerging from the shadows.  "I believe the Commander may have 
understood your message after all, Captain," he said.

***

Apollo was a little surprised when Starbuck answered the door himself.  
He expected Lydia to be there, assisting him in getting around and 
doing the moving about. "Umm, hi," he said lamely.  "Am I interrupting 
anything?"

If Apollo was a little surprised by Starbuck's recovery, Starbuck was 
totally stunned by the identity of his visitor.  He was almost certain 
he hadn't hallucinated hearing his beloved's voice when he first 
regained consciousness in Life Center, although he had convinced 
himself he had imagined that Apollo had all but ordered Salik to send 
him to Apollo's quarters on the Galactica to recover. But Apollo hadn't 
made an appearance after that.  

Almost everyone else he had even the slightest friendship with had 
found his or her way first to Life Center and later on to his small 
room. At first he had been surprised, if uncomfortable - embarrassed by 
the quarters that became standing-room-only with only two people 
visiting while he was still bed-ridden, and even once he was up and 
about and the bed turned back into a daybed, could only seat four or 
five.  Then he had forced himself to acknowledge that he still had 
friends even though he'd denied them friendship in return.  

And then he'd noticed the absence of one person out of all the people 
from his past and present. The one person he wanted most to see.  Who 
was now standing in his doorway.  "Umm, come in, Commander.  Is there 
something wrong?"  Starbuck's astonishment turned to concern. Had 
something happened to Adama or Tigh during their travels?

Apollo caught the hint of fear that crossed Starbuck's face.  "No, no.  
Everything - everyone - is fine."  He walked in and took the seat 
Starbuck offered. He laughed.  "At least as far as I know.  With Tigh 
and my father, I guess no news is good news."

"Something I can help you with then?" Starbuck couldn't imagine what 
that might be, but he couldn't think of anything beyond a crisis of 
some sort that would bring Apollo to his door. 

"No. Yes.  Oh, Hades, Starbuck! I don't know!"  Apollo buried his face 
in his hands for a micron. Then he forced himself to look into the 
bewildered blue eyes as he said, "I just knew I had to see you. I just 
figured out how stupid I am."

Starbuck grinned.  "Sounds like a Boxey - sorry, Troy - problem."  He 
pulled out the chair opposite Apollo's at the table.  "Want to talk 
about it?"

Apollo looked up, mouth dropping open.  "How did you know?" he asked.

"Know? Oh, that Troy was involved?" Starbuck shrugged, then winced. 
"Gotta learn not to do that," he muttered.  He stood slowly.  "I'm 
going to have some juice and take my meds - I did learn my lesson about 
shorting myself on the meds and about using alcohol.  Do you want 
anything?"

"No, thanks.  Actually, I thought if things went well, I'd ask you out 
to dinner again." Apollo answered.

Starbuck ignored the second part of Apollo's response and medicated 
himself before he sat down again.

Apollo returned to the safer topic of Troy.  "So, how did you know Troy 
had anything to do with my being here?" he prompted.

Starbuck laughed.  "Troy's the only one who's ever been able to get you 
as knotted up as you were when you came in."

"Except for you," Apollo pointed out.

"Maybe once," Starbuck whispered, toying with his juice glass.

"He has a boyfriend," Apollo explained, returning again to the safe 
topic they had found.

Starbuck looked up sharply.  "And you have a problem with that?"

"No, of course not," Apollo retorted.  "But he was asking about us," he 
finished softly.

"Oh."

"You don't seem surprised that he knew," Apollo made it a question.  
Starbuck shook his head.  "Well, I didn't know he knew.  He asked in 
the most round-about way, too."

"Because you went out of your way to keep it a secret, lo - Apollo." 
Starbuck caught himself just in time before he addressed the Commander 
as 'love'.

"And you didn't?"

"I didn't hide behind the sofa if he came out of his room when I was 
leaving some early cycles, no," Starbuck admitted.

"I suppose you know that my father and Tigh have been a couple for 
decayahrens, too, then," Apollo grumbled.

"For Sagan's sake, Apollo!  Your mother knew that!" Starbuck stared at 
his old friend. "You mean you actually didn't?"  It was Apollo's turn 
to shake his head.  "Oh my, this has been an unsettling day for you, 
hasn't it, love?" The word was out before he could stop it and he 
stared as his hand reached out and stroked Apollo's cheek as though the 
hand had a mind of its own.

"I wish you could hold me and stroke me to calm me down while you were 
laughing at my ignorance," Apollo said, leaning into the petting.  He 
didn't notice the tears that dripped onto the table in front of him.  

Maybe it was because the meds were at their full strength, but Starbuck 
felt no pain as he rose smoothly and knelt at Apollo's side, holding 
him gently around the waist.  "Let's go over to the daybed.  I think I 
can hold you there if you don't move around too much.  Then you can 
tell me the whole story."

***

Much later, the two men were still entangled in each other's arms. 
"Paye said you'd be able to ... that we could still ... you know ... if 
we were careful, but you cringed every time I tried to touch you. Then 
you were gone," Apollo murmured. This wasn't exactly the way it 
happened, and both men knew it.  In fact, it had been Apollo who had 
gone - stopped coming to visit, since it seemed to upset Starbuck so 
much - and did upset Apollo.  Then Starbuck had one cycle been in Life 
Center, the next gone, as far as Apollo could tell.

"I didn't know you tried. It was a long time before I could control 
that.  I still react if someone touches me unexpectedly." He paused.  
'Not that many people even try to touch me anymore.  You were one of 
the few lately,' he thought.  "That was why I pulled away like I did 
before." 'It doesn't matter and that's not really why,' he chastised 
himself. "Damn Baltar," he said fervently. "He took this all away from 
me."

"From us," Apollo corrected gently, shifting so that he was holding 
Starbuck instead of the other way around.

"From us," Starbuck agreed. "He took Boomer and he took our love.  He 
took it all away."

For a long while the two men were lost in memory.

***

In the cold confines of the Base Star's command chamber, Baltar smirked 
evilly as he sauntered between his two captives. Starbuck hung from a 
metal rack, by one wrist this time, while the sadistic Baltar used a 
heavy cane on his bruised and battered buttocks and back. Every few 
moments the traitor would reach around the hanging man and twist the 
clamps that had been biting into the Lieutenant's nipples for the last 
secton. Although a tight cock ring was in place, Starbuck's organ 
remained limp.

Suddenly Baltar ripped the clamps off the sore and swollen nipples, 
causing the Lieutenant to cry out in pain. Blood trickled down from the 
spot where the left nipple had been. It was a wonder he hadn't lost 
both of them, Starbuck thought numbly. Baltar had left them on for over 
twenty-four centars this time.

"Leave him alone, you sadistic bastard, he can't take it any more," 
Boomer yelled at the man. Boomer was also naked, his hands bound behind 
his back . He had been forced to watch each torture Baltar performed on 
his friend and lover, while Baltar watched Boomer's cock's unbidden 
responses to the sexual atrocities. Baltar didn't want any information 
from them, that had been clear from the time the Cylons surrounded 
their vipers and forced them to land on the Base Star, then marched 
them into Baltar's presence. Baltar just wanted to torment them.

"I do believe you're right. Yes, I think I have broken his spirit; he's 
useless now, can't even hold an erection." Baltar chuckled as he batted 
Starbuck's once proud organ, eliciting a groan. "But you're not 
useless. No, you're still a fine specimen." Baltar ran the cane up and 
down Boomer's body, imagining the fun he would have with this one. This 
was the best part of holding humans captive, especially these two 
humans the pleasure he received from seeing the pain and anguish in one 
as he inflicted on the other's helpless body.

"Leave him alone. I did everything you told me to do, now leave him 
alone," Starbuck's whisper was barely audible.

With one quick flick of his wrist, Baltar cut the ropes holding 
Starbuck to the rack, and the young man fell to the floor in a heap, 
unable to support himself. Baltar had delighted in tying him up, first 
by his ankles and then by the wrists. Leaving him hanging until his 
hips and knees, then shoulders and elbows were dislocated.

Ignoring Starbuck's broken form, Baltar reached out for Boomer, 
grabbing him by the hair and forcing him to stand. "If you really want 
to help your friend, you'll do as I say. Only then will I let him be 
and maybe allow his body to heal."

"I'll do what ever you want, Baltar. Just leave Starbuck alone," Boomer 
said, then screamed in agony as Baltar suddenly grabbed his cock and 
twisted it. Boomer was sure he would twist it off.

The play time was interrupted by the sound of a klaxon. A centurion 
entered and informed Baltar that they were under attack, and that 
somehow a band of colonial warriors had managed to board the ship.

"Well, well, looks like there's a rescue party on its way for you two 
boys. Well, they won't get me," Baltar said as he pulled Boomer in 
front of him and started backing towards the secret passageway leading 
to his escape pod. "We'll leave the little whore for your friends. I'm 
sure dear Captain Apollo is one of the rescuers; it will be my little 
gift to him." Baltar grabbed a laser from the closest centurion and 
pointed it at Boomer's throat.

Before Baltar had the chance to reach the passageway, the room was 
filled with laser fire as a small band of warriors entered, led by 
Apollo.

"Halt right there, Baltar. You're not going anywhere," the Captain 
ordered.

"Ohm I think I am. You see, Captain, either you let me leave or dear 
Boomer here will die. But I've left you Starbuck. If you get him out of 
here fast enough you might be able to save his life, though whether 
he'll ever think his life worth living again I don't know."

Keeping his laser aimed at Baltar, Apollo knelt at Starbuck's side, 
fighting to keep from crying out at the sight of the once perfect body. 
"I'm sorry I didn't get here in time, Starbuck. I'll make this up to 
you I promise," Apollo whispered

"Help.........Boomer........." was all Starbuck could say aloud, but 
his mind kept saying, 'This is all my fault. I didn't listen properly 
and now Baltar is going to make Boomer pay for my incompetence.'

Apollo was suddenly overcome with rage. Standing up he ordered once 
more, "Let that man go or I will kill you."

"Not yet, Captain." Baltar was still backing up towards the passageway. 
When he reached the door he suddenly threw Boomer aside and took aim at 
Apollo. Boomer caught the move from the corner of his eye and screamed, 
"NOOOOOOOOOO," as he flung himself between the laser and Apollo. The 
shot hit him square in the chest and he fell down, dead instantly.

"Boooooooooommmmmmmmmerrrrrrrrrrrr," Apollo screamed and started firing 
blindly at Baltar. One shot hit the traitor in the head, disintegrating 
it.

Apollo rushed to Boomer's side and knelt down by the body. "What have I 
done? I'm sorry, Boomer, I should have known he would shoot, but you 
didn't forget and you paid the price. Starbuck's half dead and you're 
gone and it's all my fault."

Starbuck had managed to raise his head just in time to see Boomer get 
hit by the laser. 'Oh Lords, if only I had listened to Baltar's orders 
more carefully he wouldn't have taken it out on Boomer. Now he's dead 
and it's all my fault."

***

The two men came out of their reveries at the same time.  "It wasn't 
your fault," each murmured to the other.

"Boomer would want us to go on without him," Apollo said, carefully 
drying Starbuck's tears while ignoring his own.  "He would tell us we 
were together before he joined us and we should be again."  He sighed.  
"If only you could.  Paye said ..." he trailed off, not wanting to hurt 
his beloved with a reminder of what was lost.

Starbuck smiled sadly. "Did Paye tell you we would be able to make love 
again?" he asked. Apollo nodded.  "Salik told me I couldn't."  Apollo 
nodded again. "But Salik was wrong, Apollo."  When Apollo pulled away 
to look directly at him, Starbuck continued.  "I can - I have," he 
chuckled.  "Thinking of you and Boomer, actually.  Only," his smile 
became sad again, "it hurt like Hades after. Right after.  I think I 
passed out for a time."

Apollo's eyes widened.  "Oh, my love!" he cried.  "That's what Paye 
taught me.  How to hold you - tightly like I used to when you'd have a 
flashback after you came - so you couldn't hurt yourself.  But I never 
had the chance to try.  Or even tell you."

"Is it too late?" both men said together. Their lips met, at first 
gently, then more insistently and confidently, in answer.

***

Teaser for Book II

"I really think you need to pay a surprise visit to the martial arts 
and physical fitness area, Sir," Lydia said out of nowhere while they 
were eating lunch.

Starbuck looked at her over his cup of tea.  Suddenly she was Cadet 
Prim-and-Proper.  Something was up.  "Surprise inspections are the 
purview of the Commander, Lydia.  You know that." 

She made a moue of displeasure. "Commander Tigh left you in command.  
Sir."

'Without asking me,' Starbuck wanted to point out. 'Of course, if he 
had asked, I'd probably have checked myself back into Life Center.' So 
here he was, acting Commander of the Academy for a semester while 
Commander Tigh re-activated his atmospheric flight skills, at the side 
of Commander Adama. There were rumors they were planning to retire 
together in the near future. Apollo would surely become Supreme 
Commander of the Fleet. Starbuck wondered what would happen to him 
then. 'No one's going to nominate me as permanent Academy Commander,' 
he thought. He could only hope that Bojay didn't become his new 
commanding officer. Well, he could always simply take early retirement 
for medical reasons and go back to the Galactica and Apollo, as the 
latter kept suggesting. 

Lydia waited while he worked through whatever was bothering him. He had 
taken her on against his judgment, almost against his will, and had 
given her responsibility and respect.  The least she could do was 
respect his privacy.  So she'd never tried to find out what had 
happened to him or what his physical problems really were - except when 
he had landed in Life Center the previous semester, of course.  But she 
still believed that was as much precipitated by Commander Apollo's 
sudden reappearance as by anything else. Although lately, Commander 
Apollo seemed to improve the Colonel's outlook rather than the reverse.

But his future could be dealt with later - if and when it actually 
happened, Starbuck decided pragmatically. Right now, Lydia was bringing 
him a problem for the first time. "It's important?" he asked aloud.

When he finally asked, she simply said, "It's important, Sir. And not 
just to me."

Starbuck had given up on trying to distance himself from Lydia. She 
seemed to just take what he could offer, which was precious little in 
his opinion. She'd seen him at his worst, completely incapacitated, 
full of self-pity, and suspicious of anyone trying to help him, and she 
gave loyalty and simple friendship with no strings attached.  She knew 
how he felt about being an active part of the Academy, if not why - 
she'd never asked him why, he realized, and silently thanked her for 
it.  "Okay, what's up?"

"I think it would be best if you paid a visit to the gymnasium 
yourself," was all she'd say.


tbc