THE GIFT

by

Jill Hargan

Boxey walked purposefully down the long corridor that led to Alpha Launch Bay. Ordinarily Muffit would've been tagging along beside him, but today the daggit was with Dr. Wilker for what Apollo had called a "checkup." As much as he loved Muffey, Boxey was glad his pet wasn't with him right now. He was on an important and secret errand and the drone would've been too conspicuous.

As he reached the doors leading into the bay, Boxey slowed and hesitated. He wasn't supposed to be here. There were few places on the Galactica that had been decreed offlimits to him, but this was definitely one of them. Boxey usually obeyed Apollo implicitly, but the importance of his task overrode his seven-year-old caution. He had to talk to Starbuck... alone. Finding the carefree pilot without anyone else around him was difficult to say the least, but Apollo was on furlon so this was the one place Boxey could be certain at least he wouldn't show up.

Making sure no one was watching, Boxey slipped through the doors. The current patrol had been gone for about a centar, so the launch crews were no longer occupying the main floor. Boxey looked over at a few technicians busy with a readout panel. No one would notice him if he was very quiet. He stole softly down towards the standing Vipers. His father had taught him all about insignias and squadron markings so he had no trouble locating Blue Squadron's ships. He crept among them until he found Viper 4. That was Starbuck's.

Now that he'd accomplished this much, he wasn't sure what to do next. It would be a while before Starbuck reported in for patrol duty. If he waited around here, next to the Viper, someone might find him. He glanced around the bay and then up at the ship, suddenly filled with wishful longing. He'd never been inside a Viper. No matter how much he pleaded with Apollo, his father had always refused... telling him that the ships were fighters, not toys and that he'd have to wait until he was older.

Boxey's thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of someone coming his way. His eyes widened with the fear of being discovered. There was no place to hide. His eyes fell once more upon the sleek body of Starbuck's fighter and a resolution came over him. He knew what he could do.

His hands gripped the edge of the Viper and his stomach did flip-flops. As the footsteps came closer, Boxey ignored his nagging conscience. He scrambled up into the open cockpit, but this offered no real cover. Feeling the beginnings of panic, his eyes darted around the fighter's cramped interior. He was in luck. Behind the pilot's seat he spied a small cubby hole he could probably fit into. The only problem was how to get back there. He heard voices now and decided on the quickest way. He climbed over the seat and dove head-first into the dark recess. In his haste, his flailing feet kicked the instrument panel. Sparks flew at the contact and wires crackled. Boxey froze at the sound, his heart in his throat, but after a moment, everything seemed all right so he settled into his hiding place.

He barely breathed as the men walked past, but as their voices faded away, the excitement of actually being in a fighter took over his fear. With his child's reasoning Boxey decided that since he was already inside, he might as well stay. He situated himself and leaned his back against the pilot's seat. If he was going to have to wait for Starbuck, he wanted to be comfortable.

"Apollo, would you cut the felgercarb and just tell me what you want for your birthday." Starbuck waited impatiently for an answer.

The two officers were walking casually down the corridor. Starbuck was on his way to patrol duty. Apollo was keeping him company.

"I'm serious, Starbuck. I don't want anything. Besides, where would you go to get a present? The fleet's a little short on trading ships." Apollo laid a hand on his friend's shoulder and smiled. "Don't worry about it, okay?"

Starbuck merely shook his head. "We'll see. It's still almost a secton away."

They 'd reached the bay doors by now and Boomer stepped up to join them. "Hey, Starbuck, you're gonna be late. Get a move on, will ya?"

"Keep your shirt on, Boomer. I was just having a little discussion with the Captain."

Boomer gave Apollo a curious look. "What are you doing down here? I thought you were on furlon."

Apollo grinned. "I have to make sure you guys get off the ground all right. I wouldn't want you messing up the bays."

"Brother," Starbuck complained good-naturedly. "Give a guy a little rank and he thinks he's your mother."

Boomer and Apollo both laughed and the three men walked into the launch bay and headed towards the waiting Vipers.

Boxey was startled out of his daydreaming by the sound of voices again. He strained to hear and instantly recognized Starbuck. He eagerly raised himself to a crouch, ready to get the warrior's attention as soon as he was inside, but the boy's enthusiasm melted as he heard another voice he knew... his father's.

He was beside himself with disappointment and alarm. What was Apollo doing in the bay? Boxey couldn't get up to let Starbuck see him without Apollo spotting him too. He wondered if maybe his father would leave before the launch. He'd have to take that chance. He decided to wait until the last possible centon before revealing his presence. That would give Apollo more time to leave.

He heard Starbuck climbing up onto the ship and felt him settle in. After a few centons of pre-flight adjustments, the canopy was lowered into place. Boxey was ready now... ready to tell Starbuck he was here. If only he could know for sure that Apollo was gone. Boxey swallowed hard for his mouth had gone dry. Just a few more millicentons...

The next thing he knew he was slammed violently into the wall of his hiding place. His face impacted painfully and his insides churned. His last thought was that he was going to be sick to his stomach and then everything went black and he slipped into unconsciousness.

Apollo watched Starbuck and Boomer launch, then turned and headed for the doors. Before he could leave, a technician hailed him.

"Captain... message from the commander."

Apollo walked over to the console. "What is it?"

"He says when you have a spare centon, he'd like to see you in his quarters."

Apollo gave the man a crisp nod. "Thanks." He left the bay, wondering what his father wanted. He soon found himself at the commander's door. He pressed the chime and the door slipped open for him.

Adama was sitting at his desk. There were piles of data tapes cluttering the top and he pushed them aside as Apollo entered.

"Come in, Son... sit down, please." Adama waved to a chair across from the desk. Apollo took the seat and glanced questioningly over at his sister, who occupied a similar position. Athena shook her head and shrugged slightly.

Adama leaned back in his chair and regarded his children. He came right to the point. "I wanted you both here because I felt you should be aware of a small matter." He gestured to the tapes on his desk. "Ever since the fleet gathered together I've been the brunt of many people's frustrations and hostilities. There've been various threats...

"Why didn't you ever tell us about them?" Apollo demanded.

Adama held up a restraining hand. "Let me finish. None of them seemed serious and it let people get their feelings off their chest. There's never been any follow-through on any of them."

"Then why the concern now?" Athena inquired.

Adama frowned at the tapes.

"Father?" Apollo asked. "Is there something we should know?"

The commander smiled reassuringly. I don't want to alarm you. It's just that before the threats had always been directed at me. Now I've gotten one that's aimed at my family."

Brother and sister both exchanged concerned glances.

"And you think someone would actually try and..." Athena paused. It was hard to even imagine what she was trying to put into words.

"Hurt one of you?" Adama finished. "No, no. I'm sure there's nothing to worry about. I just want you to be aware... be extra careful for a while... until we see how serious our friend here is." He smiled to try and put at ease the concerned looks on his offsprings' faces.

"Hey, Starbuck... I've got something on my long-range scanner. Do you see it?"

"No... I'm not picking it up. What's it look like?"

"Can't tell. It's still too far. Whaddya say we go check it out?"

"I"m right with ya, Boomer. Lead on."

The two Vipers sailed smoothly through the quiet depths of space. The fleet was far enough away to give both pilots the feeling of being the only ones out here. Their patrol was almost over. It had been a very boring three centars and the Boomer's blip sounded inviting. They flew on wordlessly for a few centons.

After a while, Starbuck began to wonder just what Boomer was heading for. His scanner showed nothing. He was just about ready to ask his friend about it, when he froze at a scuffling sound behind him. It stopped and Starbuck strained... listening. There was nothing. Shaking his head, he told himself he was hearing things. Then a soft moan issued from behind his seat. Starbuck turned as far as his harness would permit and came face to face with a bewildered and forlorn looking Boxey.

"Holy Frack, kid!" Starbuck was both relieved and shaken. "What in the name of... What are you doing back there?"

"I..." Boxey swallowed and rubbed his hand across his nose. He'd obviously been crying. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Well you sure picked a great place to do that." Boxey looked ready to cry again. It was then that Starbuck noticed the dried blood on the boy's face and he realized what a rough time the kid must've been through.

"I wasn't gonna launch with you, Starbuck... honest. I just didn't want Dad to see me. He'd be mad at me and then it wouldn't be a secret anymore."

"I don't know what you're talking about, kid, but one thing I do know is we're going back to the Galactica... Now!"

"Oh, please, Starbuck! If you go back early, then everyone will know. I don't want my dad to find out. I wanted to surprise him."

"You're certainly going to do that."

"That's not what I mean, Starbuck. I mean his birthday. I wanted to talk to you about a surprise for his birthday. But then he was in the bay and you took off before I could get out."

Starbuck was finally beginning to make sense out of Boxey's explanations and he wasn't sure what to do. Apollo was a great guy, but he had a tendency to be a little on the straight side. He'd probably punish Boxey for being in the Viper and to Starbuck's way of thinking, going through a launch without a pressure suit was punishment enough for anybody. He sized up the situation. Boxey was already here. There was only a little time left on this patrol It seemed like yahrens since any Cylons had bothered them. The odds on something going wrong in the next few centons were wonderfully low. Why not let the kid finish up with him? It'd probably be the thrill of his life.

"All right, Boxey... all right. I won't go back. You just enjoy the ride. But if anyone catches you sneaking out of my Viper... I didn't know anything about it, you hear me?

"Sure, Starbuck." Boxey grinned. "Thanks."

"Ah, forget it. I just gotta try and explain to Boomer why I've been talking to myself." It was odd, Starbuck thought, that his patrol partner hadn't bothered to ask him who he was talking to. Their Vipers were comlinked together and Boomer should've heard every word Starbuck said.

"Hey, Boom-Boom, ya out there?" Starbuck's only answer was a crackling of static. He checked his screen and fought down a surge of panic. Not only didn't it register Boomer's unknown object... it didn't even register Boomer.

"Viper 4 to Viper 5... come in. Come in, Boomer."

"What's the matter, Starbuck?" Boxey asked.

"Oh... nothing, kid... nothing," Starbuck reassured him with more calm than he actually felt. "Boomer's just taking a little lunch break... that's all."

Just then, Starbuck's comline came alive. It wasn't clear, but it was Boomer's voice. It came in fragments that Starbuck could barely make out.

"Starbuck... Boomer... back to Galac... pulsar... communications shot..."

"I can barely read you, Boomer," Starbuck answered, hoping his friend could hear him. A pulsar explained the foul-up with communications, but not with his scanners... or maybe it could. So little was known about the things. Whatever the reason, he knew he'd better get back to the fleet. Since he couldn't locate Boomer, he tried to get a fix on the Galactica, but his instruments refused to yield any information.

"Frack!" he muttered and frantically worked with the panel. Nothing responded. "Hey, Boomer," he called over the open line. "I've got a little problem here. Ya wanna get your tail over here and give me a hand?" There was silence for a moment, then a crackling, "repeat" sounded. Obviously Boomer couldn't hear him very well either.

Starbuck sighed and tried again. "Boomer, my instruments are out. I can't get a fix on anything. I'm going to turn 180 degrees about and go back the way I came in. I'm not sure where I'll end up, but maybe my scanners will function if I get away from this pulsar." He shot an apologetic glance over his shoulder. "Tell Apollo I've got Boxey with me. Sorry, kid, but if we're gone for a while, he'll need to know where you are."

"Are we lost, Starbuck?"

"No, kid... not lost... exactly." He caught the boy's questioning eyes. "Well... maybe a little lost. But don't worry," he added cheerfully. "Boomer'll find us."

Starbuck then executed his about face turn, all the time wondering if Boomer had heard him... and praying that he had.

Apollo lay on his bed with a book propped open beside him. He'd been reading for some time and had put the volume down to give his tired eyes a brief respite. As he lay there, one arm thrown across his eyes to shield them from the light, he wondered idly where Boxey could be. It was close to lunch and the boy had been gone all morning. He wasn't really concerned. It wasn't unusual for Boxey to be gone for long periods of time, but Adama's mild warning kept creeping into Apollo's thoughts. It was foolish, he knew. Still, he would feel better when his son was back from whatever explorations he was off on today.

The comline buzzed, interrupting his thoughts, and Apollo rose from his bunk, stretching thoroughly. He moved over to answer the call.

"Apollo here."

"Apollo..." It was Adama's voice. "We've had some trouble with one of the patrols. You better come up to the bridge."

"Yes, Sir." Apollo signed off and moved back to the bed. He stepped into his boots, quickly fastening them. Grabbing his discarded jacket, he left his quarters and headed swiftly for the bridge.

Upon his arrival, he found his father, Colonel Tigh and a very flustered-looking Boomer all gathered around the ship's long-range scanners. Starbuck was nowhere in sight and Apollo felt a uneasiness in his stomach.

"Father? What's going on?"

The trio turned at the sound of his voice. Adama spoke first.

"The patrol located a pulsar on their long-range frequency. It's interfering with communication signals so we're going to have to route the fleet around it and give it a wide berth."

Apollo looked from his father to Boomer's agitated face. There was something else wrong and the captain knew what it was.

"Where's Starbuck?" he demanded.

"Out there... somewhere," Boomer answered, pointing out at the vast view of space. "We lost contact with each other. I was heading back for the Galactica and thought he would too, but he just veered off my scanner. I couldn't find a trace of him and I couldn't raise him." His voice held a note of bitter frustration. "I had to turn back and warn the fleet."

Apollo felt Boomer's pain strike a responsive chord. He knew too well the anguish such a decision could cause.

"Can we send out a patrol to look for him?" Apollo asked. "Now that we know about the danger."

"We can't risk losing anyone else." Adama's voice was regretful but firm. "We don't know where he is and can't tell how much effect that star has on sensors. It would be too risky to send anyone near that thing. I'm sorry."

Apollo started to object but his father was immovable. He exchanged glances with Boomer and knew they shared the same thoughts. They would both have to resign themselves to the fact that there would be no search for their friend. They would have to rely instead upon Starbuck's inherent quality for self-preservation to somehow guide him back home... and they both knew deep inside what a slim chance that would be.

As more and more time dragged by with no sign of Boomer or the fleet, Starbuck's perpetual optimism was beginning to fade. He had no idea where he and Boxey were. After going on for this long, the scanners should've cleared, but for some reason they weren't working. Starbuck was flying by visuals alone.

The warrior heaved a sigh as he tried to think about what to do. Without his equipment, he'd never find the Galactica. His thoughts were interrupted by a small voice.

"Boomer's not coming, is he?"

Starbuck turned. Boxey's wide eyes seemed to know the answer already.

"It does kind of look that way, kid. I guess we're on our own. But don't worry," he added hastily as the child's eyes filled with fearful tears. "You can be my patrol partner." He reached back and pulled the boy forward and settled him on his lap. He removed his helmet and placed it on Boxey's head. It didn't fit. When the boy looked up, Starbuck could only see one eye and part of his mouth. "Patrol partners help each other out. We'll work together and get out of this... you'll see." Boxey grinned widely from inside the helmet.

I guess that's one thing I won't have to worry about for now, Starbuck thought. Got to keep the kid happy. But he wished desperately that it wasn't Apollo's son sitting on his lap. He knew how much the kid meant to his friend. If they didn't make it back... he didn't want to think about what Apollo would go through because of his lack of judgement, but he also wished Boxey's well-being and Apollo's state of mind were the biggest of his problems. The Viper came equipped with enough oxygen for a long-range patrol, but with two people breathing the air, though Boxey was small, time was going to be a factor. Between the need to repair the scanner and replenish the air supply, Starbuck came to a decision. He would have to find an inhabited planet and land. He mentally cast lots, picked a direction and headed off... pushing from his mind the fact the fleet would all the time be moving farther and farther away.

Apollo walked slowly back to his quarters. It just didn't seem possible that anything could ever happen to Starbuck. The irrepressible, impossible spirit that was Starbuck was something Apollo had always depended on. Even in his most depressing moments, Starbuck had always been there... cigar in hand, ready with a smile and a slap on your back. That someone like that could be taken from your life didn't make sense somehow, but Apollo found himself listing all the people he'd loved and lost... Serina, Zac, his mother. For a moment, nothing in the universe made any sense. He suddenly wanted very much to see Boxey... just to hold him and let his son's innocent effervescence surround him and make him forget.

He entered his quarters, expecting to be pounced upon by an eager little boy, but the room was strangely quiet. Adama's warning rushed full force to his mind, but he pushed it away. There were lots of places Boxey could be. Apollo sat down next to his comline and quickly went through the list of Boxey's usual places... Athena, the rejuvenation center, his father's quarters and lastly, because he hadn't wanted to disturb her... Cassiopeia.

As he exhausted all these possibilities without any luck, panic started to edge into his thoughts. Where could Boxey be? What should he do? Call his father? Go look for the boy? The ship was so big and he could be anywhere. He tried to keep calm. No sense rushing around like a maniac when Boxey was most certainly all right and had probably just forgotten the time. Besides, Muffit was with him and would take care of him.

At the thought of the drone, Apollo suddenly remembered. Muffit was at Dr. Wilker's lab. That was the answer then. Boxey was probably hanging around, pestering everyone while waiting for his precious daggit. Apollo laughed out loud in relief and at his own foolishness. He decided he would go in person and fetch his son home for dinner, but as he was heading for the door, the chime sounded. Apollo called for his visitor to come in.

"I just thought I'd bring Muffit by. Boxey was supposed to pick him up a centar ago."

As Apollo stared at Dr. Wilker, an unescorted Muffit ambled into the room. The smile that had frozen on Apollo's features disappeared and all color drained from his face.

The surf pounded on the sand, spraying Boxey with a mist of refreshing salt water. The planet's moons reflected brightly off the water, making thousands of glimmering spots that danced before his eyes. He breathed in the tangy air and turned toward where Starbuck was investigating the problem with the Viper's scanners. He wondered how long it would take to fix, but decided it wouldn't be too bad if they had to stay here at the beach for a while. Cold water rushed in to swirl around his feet. He jumped back and giggled at the sensation.

"Hey, Starbuck!" he called. There was no reply. Evidently the pilot was too busy to pay attention to anything but his ship, so Boxey reluctantly tore himself away from the fascinating view to trudge up through the sand.

"Hey, Starbuck," he asked again, when he grew near enough to be heard.

"Yeah, kid," came the distracted answer.

"How come the air smells so good here?"

"Hmmm?"

"I said, how come the air smells so good?"

Starbuck withdrew his head from inside the open instrument panel. "The air?" He gazed out at the ocean, then down at Boxey. "It comes from the salt in the water."

"Oh." Boxey climbed up on one wing. "Can you fix it?"

"I'm not sure. It's too dark to really see and I'm too tired anyway." He stepped down and Boxey jumped off after him. "We'll make camp for the night and tackle things in the morning. Sound good to you?" The boy nodded vigorously.

A few centons later they were seated on some old driftwood, trying to make a meal out of emergency rations. The night was mild and Starbuck had elected not to build a fire. There was no telling what kind of creatures might be lurking around. There was no sense in announcing their presence. Starbuck watched in amusement as Boxey made distasteful faces at the food.

"You'll get used to it," he laughed. "It kinda grows on you."

Boxey grimaced as he swallowed. "Do you think they'll have oceans on Earth?"

"You can probably lay cubits on that, kid," Starbuck assured him. "You like the water?"

"Yep. I only saw the ocean once before. My mother took me on a vacation. It was so far and Mom was so busy that we never went back. We were going to but then... well... you know." Boxey's voice had grown softer as he remembered his mother. Starbuck tried to be comforting, but he felt stupidly awkward.

"Yeah... I know, kid. But just wait till we find Earth."

Boxey's sigh seemed to echo all the doubts Starbuck had ever entertained about their chances of finding that elusive planet.

"Dad and Grandfather always say that so I guess we'll get there someday." A bird of some kind passed over their heads, sounding a lonely cry. They both watched it sail out over the water. "I wonder what Dad's doing right now," Boxey said wistfully.

Uh-oh, Starbuck thought. Got to put an end to that right now. Can't have him getting all homesick and weepy. He scooted over closer to the child and put an arm around him.

"What do you usually do to relax after a nice feast like this?" he asked brightly.

Boxey laughed at Starbuck's definition of the meal they'd just consumed. "I play with Muffey," he answered with a touch of sadness in his voice.

"Besides that?"

Boxey thought a moment then his hand went to his tunic pocket. There was nothing there and his face fell. "It's gone. I had a string climber that Dad made for me. It must've fallen out when I got in the ship."

"Never mind then." Starbuck yawned widely and stood up. "Say, partner... how 'bout if we get some sleep? We'll have to stay in the ship. Don't know what kind of animals there are around here and I couldn't stay awake to keep watch. How 'bout you?"

Boxey shook his head and the two climbed reluctantly into the cramped cockpit to spend an uncomfortable night.

In all the time that Apollo had served aboard the Galactica, he'd conscientiously worked at maintaining a proper military relationship with Adama. In his early days as a warrior, he'd constantly felt the need to prove he could do things on his own... without the help of his high-ranking father. Now, older, he no longer felt that driving urge but still refrained from outward actions that might possibly fill envious minds with untrue opinions.

All this was forgotten however, as he burst unceremoniously into Adama's quarters. His mind registered the sight of his father rising from his desk... indignant at the uninvited intrusion, but he was too upset to think clearly about anything. Adama, seeing the agitation in his son's face, realized something was terribly wrong.

"Father," Apollo exploded without any preamble. "I can't find Boxey anywhere. Do you have any idea who might've sent those threats?"

"Calm down, Son." Adama took him by the shoulder and steered him over to a chair. "Sit down and tell me what's happened." He gently pushed Apollo down into the seat.

"Boxey's been gone all day. It's not like him to miss meals." Apollo rose up from the chair and began pacing around the room. "He's not anywhere he usually goes."

"Son... I'm sure you're overreacting. He probably just took Muffit exploring and forgot the time."

"But that's the point, Father. He doesn't have Muffit with him. Dr. Wilker had him in the lab all day. Boxey was supposed to pick him up, but he never showed. I can't see Boxey forgetting about Muffit or going off to play without him."

Adama was silent for a moment, lips pressed tight in concern. He pressed the comline buzzer to the bridge.

"Bridge. Colonel Tigh here."

"Tigh, could you come to my quarters? We've got a problem here."

"Yes, Sir," Tigh answered crisply and signed off. Adama turned back to Apollo, who stood waiting impatiently, fear all too evident in his face.

"Don't worry, Son. We'll get a search organized. I'm sure we'll find Boxey in no time."

Starbuck was dreaming about the two lovely dancers he's spent a furlon with on Sagitara and was just getting to the interesting part when his leg cramped painfully, waking him. At first, he was disoriented, thinking he was on sleep period in deep space patrol, but as his head cleared, he remembered where he was and what had happened.

He flicked the switch to open the canopy and shivered as the brisk morning air hit him. He eased himself out of the cockpit, cursing the aches in his body, and peered behind the seat. Boxey was curled up into a tight ball, still sleeping soundly. Starbuck took off his jacket and tossed it over the boy to ward off the chill. He then stepped down off the Viper, stretching and kicking out the kinks.

He strolled out to the shoreline where Boxey had watched the waves with so much interest. There was no question about it being a beautiful view, and now, with the sunrise just beginning, it was magnificent. Starbuck ran a hand through his hair, then rubbed at his eyes. The salt air felt good in his lungs and he stood for a moment just savoring it. He thought how much Cassiopeia would love it here, but then had to push her from his mind. He had too much to deal with without letting himself get distracted.

He heard his name being called and turned to see Boxey, the big warrior jacket engulfing him, trotting out eagerly to join him.

"Mornin', Starbuck," he called.

"Morning. Sleep okay?"

"Uh huh. What are we gonna do today?"

"Well... I gotta try and fix the scanners. After that, we need to find a town of some kind where we can get some oxygen for the ship. I saw some lights not too far away as we landed. Hungry?"

Boxey nodded. "I could eat a whole tray of mushies."

Starbuck chuckled. "Dream on, kid. We only have the same ol' thing."

Boxey stuck out his tongue and screwed up his face. Starbuck laughed and took the boy by the shoulder. "C'mon, sport. Let's go tackle those rations."

They'd soon eaten all they needed or wanted and Starbuck made a note on how fast the supply was dwindling. The ship had emergency food and water for three days. With both of them using them, the supplies were almost gone. He'd have to make sure they were off this rock before too much longer.

He got up to inspect the Viper more thoroughly than his once-over last night. Boxey made to run back to the shore, but paused as Starbuck warned him not to venture out of sight and to stay out of the water. Boxey looked like he wanted to argue, but the warrior was firm.

"We don't know what lives in that ocean, kid. I've got to get you back to your dad in one piece."

Boxey finally shrugged agreement and walked on down to the water. Starbuck turned his attention to the instruments and for the next few centars had his hands full with them. He occasionally glanced over his shoulder to keep an eye on Boxey. He could see him clearly... running races with the waves to keep from getting his feet wet. Somewhere he'd shed his tunic and boots and his pants were rolled up past his knees. Starbuck could hear him let out an occasional whoop as a wave would catch him and cover his feet. The lieutenant grinned. Boxey was luckier than a lot of kids from the colonies. Things could've easily gone the other way for him. Surviving the nightmare of Caprica marked him as fortunate, but after losing his mother, he could've wound up just another lost face aboard the orphan ship. By some stroke of fate, Apollo had been there to meet Serina and so, when she was killed, Boxey had someone to pick up the pieces and put his world back together again. He'd gotten a grandfather and an aunt in the bargain. Starbuck hoped fervently he could get Boxey back to that family.

As he worked, Starbuck thought about his own childhood. He'd been too young to remember his mother before she'd died in that Cylon raid, and no one had ever been able to tell him anything about his father. It was too bad things couldn't have worked out differently with Chameleon. He liked that old conman.

Working steadily, Starbuck soon found the problem with the scanners. A few wires had been knocked loose, as if someone had been kicking at the panel. He looked back at Boxey who was now working hard at a sandcastle. It wouldn't help to say anything, but he wondered how much the kid had moved around while deciding where to hide. He was just about finished when he heard Boxey come up behind him.

"Is it working, Starbuck?"

"I think I've about got it." He replaced the panel with a firm push. "There. Now, let's see if it'll work." He flicked at the switches and the screens all came to life. "Well... so far, so good. Let's find a town somewhere." He worked at the controls for a moment and then a readout appeared. Starbuck grinned triumphantly down at Boxey who smiled back. "That's one problem down."

"Are we going home now?" Boxey asked.

"Not just yet. We have to make a little expedition to get some oxygen for the ship's system. You feel like taking a little hike?"

"Sure," Boxey replied enthusiastically. He ran down to the shore to fetch his clothing. When he came back he was carrying something carefully, trying not to drop it. Starbuck could see it was a brightly-colored shell. Boxey placed the object lovingly on the wing of the ship. "Can I take it home with us, Starbuck? I want to give it to Dad for his birthday."

"Sure, kid... no  problem." Starbuck grabbed up the bundle of supplies, then closed the ship's canopy. "Ready?"

The two headed up the shoreline, leaving the Viper a lonely sight on the deserted beach. After walking for almost a centar, Starbuck led Boxey away from the coast and they headed inland. Though the population had shown up on the sensors as human, the warrior wasn't quite sure how well they were going to blend in and he wanted to come in with as little notice as possible.

As they traipsed on wearily, the landscape gradually began to change. Signs of habitation appeared in the shape of dirt roads and wire fences. Occasional cottages could be seen in the distance.

"Can we rest, Starbuck?"

The lieutenant glanced down at Boxey, who was breathing heavily. He'd forgotten that the boy was still quite small and couldn't keep the pace he'd set.

"Sorry, kid. Just a little further. I'll take it slower, okay?"

Boxey just nodded and wiped his face with his sleeve. He looked ready to collapse but Starbuck didn't want to stop here in the open. They had to keep going. He suddenly got an idea and stooped down next to the tired child.

"Here... climb on. You can ride for a while."

Boxey brightened at the prospect and eagerly perched himself on Starbuck's back, wrapping his arms around the warrior's neck.

"Easy... easy. I have to breathe." Boxey relaxed his grip and Starbuck got to his feet. He stood for a moment, shifting the boy's weight to a comfortable position. "There... now we're all set." He started down the road again, heading for one of the small houses.

When they were near the place, Starbuck stopped and lowered Boxey to the ground. He led the way through some high grass and motioned the boy to sit down.

"You wait here. I'll be back in a few centons."

Boxey looked around the place, a little frightened at the thought of being left alone, but he didn't say anything. He merely gazed after Starbuck's retreating figure until the tall grass obscured his view. Then he took in his surroundings... nothing to be seen all around. He shuddered slightly and wrapped his arms tightly around his knees. He felt very drowsy as the sun baked down on him, but he struggled to keep his eyes wide open, waiting for Starbuck to return.

It seemed to Boxey that centars must've passed, when he heard a crashing in the grass that made him jump with fright. Soon, Starbuck's head appeared and then he was sitting next to Boxey... panting, a bundle of some kind clutched tightly to his chest.

Boxey gave him a moment to catch his breath before he asked, "What happened?"

Starbuck grinned slyly. "Well, kid... you could probably pass unnoticed, but me..." He gestured to his uniform. "I'm not exactly dressed the part. I had to... uh... borrow something more suitable."

In a few centons Starbuck had changed into the native clothing and stashed his uniform in the supply bundle. Taking Boxey by the hand, he started off again... making sure to go a long way around the closest house.

Apollo leaned against the bulkhead and sighed heavily. From his position at the captain's feet, Muffit looked up expectantly. The tired warrior gave the drone a weak smile that was meant to be encouraging.

"Just a centon, Muffey. Let me report in." Muffit gave one sharp bark and was silent. Apollo switched on his intraship communicator. The headset was on an open channel and for a moment he listened to the other search parties reporting their progress... or rather, their lack of it. Personnel from all areas of the ship had volunteered to help in their off-duty time and the search had become a model of organization. Men working with scanners, all coordinated through Adama and Tigh... there was no way they would overlook anything.

He heard a familiar voice reporting from the galley area. It was Boomer. He and Jolly had just gotten off patrol and should've been sleeping, but both were helping look for Boxey. Apollo felt his throat constrict with a surge of gratitude. He rubbed his weary eyes and hailed his father.

"Commander... this is Apollo. I've just checked the port engineering terminals. No luck."

"All right... we've marked it. Apollo..." Adama's voice sounded as tired as Apollo felt. "Why don't you get some rest? You're not helping by wearing yourself out."

"I'm fine... don't worry. I couldn't sleep anyway. I'm heading for Alpha Launch Bay."

"Very well, Son."

The bay was its usual center of activity. Technicians and flight crews rushed here and there, servicing ships and readying patrols. The scene reminded Apollo that, in spite of the frantic search for one little boy, life went on as usual.

He stood at the entryway, gazing around the bay and shook his head. There was little point in looking here. With so many people bustling about, if Boxey were here, he would've been found. The crews had already checked every empty craft. Besides, Boxey had been forbidden to come here and he wasn't the kind of child to willfully disobey.

Apollo stepped into the main hangar area and started walking down the rows of fighters. Every new area he searched brought out mixed feelings of anxiety and dread. He was desperate to find Boxey, but terrified of what condition that might be under. He had to constantly shut out of his mind images of his son lying hurt somewhere, unable to call for help.

Muffit's distant, mechanical yapping suddenly startled him. He hadn't realized the daggit wasn't behind him. With his heart racing for what the drone might have found, Apollo rushed to the corner of the hangar where he spied the daggit.

Even as he ran he could tell it wasn't a person Muffey was barking at. He came up behind the drone and stared down at the pile of debris that had been swept out of the way, ready for disposal.

"What is it, Muffey?" Apollo asked, curiosity dampening his disappointment for the moment.

The daggit reached out a paw and scooted something over to Apollo. He stooped down and picked it up to examine it. There was no mistaking the small, metallic object. It was dusty and battered, but it was still the string climber he'd made for Boxey. The toy must've fallen out of his son's pocket. That meant Boxey had been here some time recently. But why? Surely he wouldn't have come on his own. Could someone have brought him here? But for what purpose? Apollo was filled with a pressing conviction that his son was no longer on board the Galactica. He only hoped he could still be found on one of the other ships in the fleet. Apollo reached up to his communicator.

"Father... I'm on my way to see you. I think I've found something."

"All right, kid. Remember... whatever happens, don't say anything. Let me do the talking."

"Okay, Starbuck."

The two were walking down what appeared to be the main street of a nice-sized town. The natives of this planet seemed human and fairly advanced, though Starbuck saw no indications of space flight capabilities. What they needed to find was some kind of supply house that would have pressurized oxygen he could channel into his Viper's system.

After wandering around for quite a while without finding anything promising, Starbuck decided he'd have to try the direct approach and ask. Grabbing Boxey's hand, he strolled over to a trading center where a group of men were gathered in what looked to Starbuck like an old fashioned bull session.

"Excuse me," he began, trying to ignore the hostile glares he received for interrupting their private conversation. "My son and I had an accident just outside of town. Our transport needs repairing. Could any of you gentlemen direct me to a machine shop?"

One of the men, a burly fellow with Boray eyes, cleared his throat. "Ain't no place like that in town. Ya hafta go on that way." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Go on a ways outta town. Old Jonda's yard's there. He could probably fix ya up."

"Thanks... thanks a lot." Starbuck backed up, giving the group one of his most charming smiles. It was a wasted effort. "C'mon, son." He turned around, pulling Boxey with him and started off in the direction the man had indicated.

As they walked, Starbuck noticed Boxey staring up at him, his mouth pulled down into a frown.

"What's wrong?"

"Why did you lie to that man? I'm not your son and we didn't have a transport accident."

"Sure we did," Starbuck protested. "We definitely have a problem with our mode of transportation."

"My dad says it's wrong to tell lies," Boxey persisted seriously.

Starbuck suppressed a sigh of exasperation. How did you go about explaining these kind of things to a kid? He wished Apollo were here to do it instead of him. "I didn't lie... exactly," he started. "I just didn't tell the whole truth." Boxey didn't look convinced so he tried to expound. "Look... kid... I wasn't sure how friendly those guys would be. They might not like the idea of strangers landing on their world. So to make it easier on everyone, I sort of... uh... bent the truth. Hey, haven't you ever heard of a white lie?" Boxey shook his head and Starbuck rolled his eyes skyward. "Well, a white lie is... like when you tell a lady you like her new dress or her new hairstyle... when it's really the ugliest thing you ever saw. You don't want to hurt her feelings so you kind of tell a little lie that doesn't hurt anyone. Sometimes it can even protect you, like the one today."

"You mean like when my mother told me my first Muffit was fine... when he was really dead?" Boxey's face was very solemn and Starbuck nodded slowly.

"Yeah," he said softly. "Just like that. You see... your mother didn't want you to be sad so she told you he was okay. It was because she loved you. When you care about someone you'd do anything to keep them from being hurt."

There seemed to be nothing more to say after that and they continued on in silence.

The bridge buzzed with activity... its pitch only slightly increased with the search for Boxey being coordinated there. Every vessel in the fleet made regular reports on their respective progress and results. So far nothing had come of any of their efforts, but Apollo kept constant vigil there, pacing around the many consoles and stations. Since he couldn't check each ship personally, he'd elected to remain here, ready for whatever news developed... good or bad.

Adama watched his son's agitated movements with increasing worry. Apollo wasn't helping anyone, least of all himself, but the commander knew his son could never be persuaded to abandon his relentless watch.

"Commander?" Adama turned his attention to Omega, who'd come up behind him with a communique in one hand. The bridge officer's voice held a note of excitement.

"Yes?"

"Commander... a message from the Rising Star. They think they've found a man who knows something about Boxey. They're sending him over on a shuttle."

"Where's Boxey? What's happened to him?" Both men turned to find Apollo beside them, anxious for information.

"They didn't give any more details, Sir. Just that they're sending him over."

"Tell them to escort him to my quarters when he gets here," Adama ordered and Omega left to comply. The commander and Apollo caught and held each other's gaze for a moment. Adama took his son by the arm. "Shall we go see what this man has to tell us?" He gave Apollo an encouraging smile and they left the bridge together. Adama knew his hold on Apollo was the only thing keeping the captain from running all the way to the commander's quarters.

Adama was seated at his desk and Apollo was standing at the portal, fidgeting with his jacket fastenings when the buzzer sounded and the door slid open. In walked a thin, nervous-looking man, flanked on each side by Boomer and Colonel Tigh. They sat the man down on the couch. The colonel handed Adama a tape and moved to stand at his side. Boomer stayed positioned between the stranger and Apollo, who was eyeing the man suspiciously.

"Well, sir," Adama began. "Could you identify yourself please?"

"My name is Jonah." The man's eyes darted around the room, judging his audience. He noticed Apollo's evident anxiety and Adama's coolness. He shifted slightly and directed his words to the captain. "I... I wanted to confess."

"Confess to what?" Apollo demanded hotly. "What do you know about Boxey?"

"Easy, son," Adama admonished.

Tigh leaned over and whispered something to the commander who nodded his understanding.

"Now... just what is it you want to confess?" Adama asked patiently.

"The little boy... the one who's missing..." He paused and a slight smile played at his mouth.

"Yes," Adama prodded calmly, while Apollo looked ready to explode with frustration.

"Well, I... I..." He looked up at Apollo expectantly, waiting for his reaction. "I killed him," he ended simply.

Apollo's eyes narrowed with rage and he started for the man, but Boomer was in his way somehow. Adama held up a warning hand.

"Jonah... Colonel Tigh here tells me that you're well known for your... confessions. It's all documented." He held up the tape.

The man gave the colonel a look of loathing, but kept silent.

"Now... tell us the truth," Adama ordered sternly. "You made the whole thing up. What possible reason could you have for killing my grandson?"

Jonah began shaking his head. "You're wrong... they're all wrong. I did do it. No one ever believes me, but this time I have proof." He reached into his vest pocket and pulled something out. He held out his hand triumphantly. In it lay a glittering warrior collar pin.

Apollo made a small, inarticulate noise and lunged for the man once again. Boomer was one step ahead of him. He pushed his struggling captain back away from Jonah and up against the wall.

"That's Boxey's! He's got Boxey's pin!" Apollo cried, still trying to free himself from Boomer's hold.

"Anybody could've lost that pin," Boomer said fiercely. "It doesn't prove anything. It could be anybody's."

Apollo finally stopped fighting and Boomer slowly let him go. During this activity, Adama had risen from his seat and gone over to Jonah. The man was intent on Apollo's outburst and he jumped, startled, when the commander took the pin from his hand. After studying it, he brought it over to Apollo and handed it to him.

"The catch is broken," he pointed out. "Even if it is Boxey's, it probably fell off his shirt and he didn't notice." He turned back to Jonah. "Where did you find this?"

"I told you. I took it off the little boy."

"He seems determined to stick to his story," Tigh observed in a low voice.

Adama nodded, trying to think of a way to get the truth from the man. Apollo hadn't moved from the wall where Boomer had pushed him, a defeated and lost look in his eyes. Boomer however, suddenly brightened. He looked over his shoulder at Jonah then mumbled something to Adama who nodded his approval. Boomer leaned over to Apollo.

"Watch this, pal." He strode out of the room.

Adama turned to Jonah. Apollo and Tigh both watched, confused but expectant. "That was clever of you to keep the pin." Adama was suddenly very congenial. "I guess we have to believe you."

Jonah smiled hesitantly. "You mean it? You believe me?"

"Of course," Adama said, then frowned in puzzlement. "But one thing still bothers me. What did you do with Muffit?"

Now it was Jonah's turn to look confused, but Apollo and Tigh had both visibly relaxed.,

"What... what do you mean?" Jonah stammered.

"Why, Boxey's drone daggit. How did you ever get past him?"

"Oh... yeah... of course, the daggit. Well... I... I..." Jonah thought furiously for a moment, then smiled. "I had a club. Yes... I had a club and I bashed him apart. I hit him with the club then I hit the boy." Jonah looked up to see the results of his answer.

Adama responded by walking over to the door and opening it. In walked Muffit, followed by Boomer.

Jonah realized his mistake at once and his face fell in disappointment. The tension in the room dissipated as Muffit walked over to Apollo, who distractedly scratched the daggit's head.

"All right, Jonah," Adama said with a sigh. "Where did you get the pin?"

The man hesitated, looking at each person in the room. Finding no sympathy, his face fell with resignation. "It was after the last Triad game. I was behind the little boy and some woman. He dropped the pin and I picked it up. Later... when I heard he was missing, I thought..." Jonah ended with a shrug.

Apollo let out his breath in relief. Adama motioned to Tigh. "Take him to the Life Station. He needs help." The commander was obviously disgusted.

Tigh pulled the man to his feet and beckoned Boomer to come with him. The trio left the room.

Adama came up to Apollo and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry you had to go through this. If I'd known..."

Apollo shook his head. "I had to be here. I just don't know which is worse, Father... knowing Boxey is dead or never finding out."

Adama could think of nothing to say and he watched helplessly as his son, followed by Muffit, walked despairingly from the room.

The night was warm and the rising moons gave a luminescence to the landscape. There was nothing stirring and no one about to see one man and one small boy scale a high, metal linked fence and drop down into a large material yard.

Starbuck had found Jonda's place and it was well-equipped with what he needed. His only problem was getting his hands on it. He had cubits in his pocket, but he couldn't very well use them, so he'd waited until dark. His plan was to take as many of the tanks of pressurized oxygen as he could carry.

The fence had proven difficult for Boxey, but Starbuck didn't want to leave him alone. With some struggling and snagging of clothes, he'd hauled the boy up and over. He just hoped they wouldn't have to leave in a hurry.

They crept softly through the place, searching for the shed he'd seen earlier in the day. Starbuck was glad for the moonlight. He certainly didn't want to bump into anything or make noise that would surely bring out curious and angry natives.

After hunting around, he finally came across the tanks. He let go of Boxey's hand and reached down to pick one up. He stood, testing its weight. It was fairly light, which was a good thing. He'd need two of them at least. Fortunately they had handles and he picked one up in each hand and started for the fence.

It wasn't until he got to the place where they'd climbed over that Starbuck realized Boxey wasn't with him. He set the cylinders down and turned back around, craning his neck to locate the missing boy.

"Boxey!" he called as loud as he dared. "Boxey!" There was no answer. "Frack!" he muttered, as he quickly hauled the oxygen up over the fence and dropped them gently onto the soft grass below. He jumped back down and strode over to where he'd lost track of Boxey.

Starbuck rounded the corner of the shed and there caught sight of the child. "Boxey!" he whispered angrily. "What in Hades..." He stopped. A few paces away from the boy a large daggit-type animal crouched. Starbuck could hear it snarling viciously. "Boxey, don't move," he ordered.

"It's a daggit, Starbuck." Boxey's voice was filled with undisguised joy. "A real, live daggit!"

The animal was so obviously ready to attack that Starbuck wondered how Boxey could not be aware of it, but then the kid had been through a lot lately and this was the first real daggit he'd seen since his pet had been killed.

Boxey held out his hand towards the creature and called to it. "Here, boy... nice boy." He moved forward a step and the animal let loose a stream of angry barks. Boxey stopped, puzzled by the creature's actions. Apparently he'd only seen friendly daggits.

Starbuck was thinking furiously. He'd left his laser with the bundle of supplies since there'd been no place to conceal it in the native clothing. Besides, Boxey would've been in the way of any shooting. The beast was making an awful racket and Starbuck knew it wouldn't be long before someone came out to investigate. Looking at the animal, Starbuck knew it was ready to spring. He couldn't wait any longer. He had to do something now... even if it was wrong.

His thinking and the daggit's seemed on the same wavelength, for the animal chose that moment also. It leaped at Boxey just as Starbuck grabbed him and yanked him out of the way. Boxey sprawled on the ground and the animal landed on Starbuck.

The creature wasn't particular and seemed just as satisfied with its new prey. It clawed at Starbuck with incredible strength and only the warrior's two-handed grip on its neck kept the gleaming jaws from his throat.

Although Starbuck had all he could do to keep from being torn apart, his mind still registered the distant sound of voices. People were coming to see what the commotion was. He grappled with the daggit, but his hold was growing weaker. Once he lost it altogether, allowing the sharp teeth to sink into his shoulder.

Starbuck gritted his teeth against the pain and rolled with the animal. To protect itself, the daggit released it's jaws and Starbuck at once moved to get out from under. He locked his hands around the animal's throat, his grip tightening, all the while ignoring the struggling feet that clawed his chest and abdomen. He wasn't sure he had the strength to outlast the beast. He was tiring and blood from his shoulder ran freely down his arm. Sweat dripped off his forehead into his eyes, blurring his vision. He tried to wipe his face on his arm and nearly lost his hold on the beast again. Growing desperate, he glanced around and saw Boxey still sitting where he'd landed, staring at the gruesome scene. His eyes were wide with horror and his face was deathly pale.

"Boxey!" Starbuck gasped. "Find me a rock... as big as you can carry."

The boy didn't move or even bat an eye. Starbuck wasn't even sure he'd heard him talking. His gaze never left the sight of the snarling daggit.

"Boxey!" Starbuck shouted, throwing all caution to the wind. "Boxey!"

There was still no response. The only option left was not pleasant and Starbuck only hoped he was up to the task. He moved one hand quickly to the side of the daggit's jaw and gave a sudden twist with all the strength he could muster. He heard a sickening crack and he felt the animal go limp as it's neck broke.

There was no time to celebrate. The voices were in the yard now. Starbuck staggered to his feet and grabbed Boxey's arm, jerking him to his feet. He ran for the fence, nearly dragging the boy behind him. When they got to the wire, Starbuck hoisted Boxey up.

"Go!" he whispered intensely. Starbuck was right behind him, practically pushing him up till they reached the top, then he pulled him over and they both dropped to the ground. Starbuck landed hard and ungracefully, pain from his shoulder shooting through him. He didn't have the time to think about it though. He scooped up the oxygen in one hand, grabbed Boxey with the other and ran into the large field they'd crossed to get to the yard.

He had no idea whether or not they were being pursued. All he knew was they needed to get as far away as possible. His arm felt leaden as the bulky tanks dragged on it. He felt Boxey stumble beside him and stopped only long enough to pull the boy roughly to his feet and then continued on.

Starbuck didn't know how long they ran, but after a while he became aware that they were dodging trees. As they became thicker, the warrior at last felt they could safely halt. He collapsed on the ground and Boxey fell next to him. The only thing he could hear for a moment was gasping breathing, then he looked over at Boxey.

"I'm... I'm sorry, kid," he managed to say. "But... we had... to get... outta there." Starbuck leaned back against a tree and started massaging his legs.

Boxey crawled over to him. "Starbuck... I didn't mean to cause any trouble." His voice was shaking and he was trembling. Starbuck could see tears filling his eyes. "But it was a daggit and I...

"Don't worry about it, kid... it's okay."

But the tears began falling uncontrollably and Boxey started making small sobbing sounds. "I... I wanna go home, Starbuck. I want my dad."

There was nothing Starbuck himself wanted more at that moment than to see Apollo come walking into sight, but since that wasn't likely to happen, he did the next best thing. He gathered Boxey into his arms and let the child cry himself to sleep against his shoulder. Not long after that, Starbuck was asleep as well.

Apollo wandered aimlessly through the corridors, with Muffit close at his heels. He wasn't going anywhere in particular and was only dimly aware of where he was. His fist was clenched tightly around Boxey's collar pin, as if contact with it would bring the boy closer.

He became aware that someone was calling his name and he turned to see Cassiopeia behind him. The sight of her filled him with the pangs of another sorrow that worry over Boxey had pushed from his mind. He suddenly felt a flood of guilt as he came back to reality and realized he wasn't the only one hurting right now. He'd meant to talk to her before, but hadn't been able to think about Starbuck and Boxey both gone from his life.

"Apollo." Cassie's eyes were filled with worry. "Have you found out anything new?"

He shook his head ruefully. Cassiopeia glanced down at the daggit then back up to Apollo. She slipped her arm into his. "Mind some company?" She got a slight smile for an answer and they started walking slowly. For a moment, neither said anything then Apollo sighed deeply and broke the silence.

"I wanted to tell you how sorry I am about Starbuck. I guess it just took a while for it to sink in that he's really gone."

Cassiopeia placed her slender fingers on Apollo's lips and shook her head. "Please don't. As long as I don't hear that kind of talk, I can still go on waiting for him to show up. He will, you know. He always does." She stared at Apollo defiantly, as if challenging him to say otherwise.

He didn't feel like arguing the point. If she wanted to cling to that hope, he wasn't going to take it away from her. He toyed with the pin in his hand.

Noting his movement, Cassiopeia asked, "What's that?"

Apollo stopped playing with the pin and held it out for her to see. She picked it up and immediately recognized it.

"The one Boxey wore?" she asked.

Apollo nodded without saying anything. She gave it back to him and watched his fist close over it.

"A man had it." Apollo swallowed hard and Cassie could see his facial muscles work at controlling his expression. "He claimed he'd killed Boxey and offered this as proof." A small choking sound came from his throat and he closed his eyes.

"But he didn't do it, did he?" Cassiopeia asked in alarm. Apollo had said there was nothing new.

Apollo opened his eye and shook his head. "He's just a sick man who draws attention to himself by inventing crimes. So we're right back to the beginning... nowhere."

They lapsed into silence and continued on until they came to Cassiopeia's door. The captain stopped. "I guess I'll say goodnight." He started to move away, but she didn't release her hold on his arm. He looked up questioningly.

"Apollo... where are you going to go? To your quarters?"

"No," he answered slowly. "Not right now." His face was haggard and drawn and there were dark circles under his eyes.

"How long since you've gotten any sleep?" she asked.

Apollo shrugged. "I don't remember. The last few days have all run together."

"Why don't you stay here tonight? I have a couch you can use. You need to rest," she insisted as he started to refuse.

"I don't think I could, but thanks for the offer."

"It's not just for you," she said softly. "I don't think I could take being alone tonight either. Besides," she added in a lighter tone, "I have a foolproof method for putting you to sleep." She smiled and opened the door. Muffit, well acquainted with these rooms, trotted in. After only a slight pause, Apollo followed.

After a few moments, Apollo was laying face down on the couch, his head pillowed on his arms. Cassiopeia was gently massaging his neck and shoulders and he could feel his fatigued muscles relax under her hands. He felt himself drifting off... no longer able to resist the needs his body demanded of him. As he floated in that gray state of drowsy awareness, he found himself thinking of Serina. His mind pictured her so vividly that he wanted to reach out and touch her, but his tired arms wouldn't obey. Slowly her face faded from his view as sleep overcame him.

Cassiopeia gradually slowed her movements as she saw Apollo falling asleep and soon she stopped altogether. She stayed where she was for a moment, just watching him. It always fascinated her how much men looked like little boys when they slept. Even Starbuck's face took on an air of innocence. Looking at Apollo, Cassie thought he looked vulnerable and she impulsively reached out to brush the hair out of his eyes. Doing this, she felt the dampness on his cheeks and had to blink back tears of her own.

She stood up then, needing something to do to keep from crying. Her eyes caught sight of Apollo's shirt and jacket. She folded them both neatly and placed them where he could easily find them. There was no doubt in her mind that he would be awake and gone before she was up. She gently pulled the boots from his feet and set them beside his other things. She found a spare blanket and covered him.

A short time later, with the lights out, she climbed into her own bed and lay staring up at the ceiling. Finally she rolled over, burying her face into the pillow to muffle any noise, and cried herself to sleep.

Starbuck awoke to feel something tickling his cheek. He slowly brought up his hand to brush aside the offending insect. The very effort of this action caused his muscles to cry out in protest. The sun was hot on his face and the ground had grown decidedly hard against his side. He cracked open his eyes, then squeezed them shut against the glaring sunlight. He figured it must be well into the next day.

With a great deal of effort, he managed to push himself up to a sitting position. The wound in his shoulder throbbed painfully. Upon examining it, Starbuck could see it was caked with dirt and dried blood. It would need tending very soon. He only hoped the animals on this planet didn't carry hydra or anything similar.

He looked around and suddenly realized he was alone. Now where had Boxey run off too? The kid had been so upset last night... for that matter, so had he. Wrestling killer daggits wasn't exactly a triad game.

He was just about ready to get up and go look for Boxey, when he heard the sound of someone coming towards him. He got stiffly to his feet, automatically grabbing for the laser that wasn't there. Cursing, he slid around the fat tree trunk, using it for cover. He wanted to see his guest before he was seen. He stood waiting, holding his breath.

The figure that broke into the clearing was only Boxey though and Starbuck let out a loud sigh. He stepped out from behind the tree to greet the boy.

"Hey, kid. Where've you been?" He noticed then that Boxey was carrying a heavy bundle... their supply bag.

"Hi, Starbuck. How do you feel?" Boxey asked timidly.

"I'm fine... I guess, But that doesn't answer my question."

Boxey shrugged slightly. "I woke up early so I went back and got our stuff." He tilted his head to indicate his burden.

"You went all the way back there?" Starbuck was incredulous. "In the daylight... when everybody could see you?"

Boxey sat down and placed the bag on the ground. Starbuck eased himself down beside him... waiting for an explanation. The boy eyed him cautiously, then turned his gaze to the bundle.

"We aren't that far away. I guess it seemed a lot farther in the dark."

"That's not the point, Boxey. They could've spotted you."

"I had to go back for it, Starbuck." Boxey looked back up at the warrior, his eyes a mixture of concern and regret. "I messed everything up last night and you need the medicine in here." He jabbed a finger at the supplies.

Starbuck's grim expression softened at that. He smiled warmly. "That was a pretty brave thing to do. Thanks."

Boxey smiled shyly for a moment, then grew serious again. "Let me fix you up." He pointed to Starbuck's shoulder. He got to his knees and began pulling first aid equipment out of the bag.

A few centons later, Starbuck's shirt had been cut away and Boxey was diligently cleansing out the bite. Starbuck winced at the antiseptic sting.

"Sorry," Boxey apologized. "I'm trying to be careful."

"Don't worry about me. It'd hurt a lot worse if it gets seriously infected."

Boxey was finished now and wrapped a makeshift bandage over the wound. Starbuck eyed the boy's work curiously.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" he asked.

Boxey smiled. "Cassiopeia taught me. She was teaching all the kids in my class about emergency first aid."

Mentioning Cassie abruptly filled Starbuck with an acute sense of homesickness. He had to concentrate on Boxey's movements to keep his mind off that ache. Boxey worked in silence, then paused a moment. Starbuck looked up to see what the problem was and met Boxey's wide brown eyes.

"Starbuck... you saved my life last night. That daggit would've killed me."

The lieutenant waved aside his thanks. "Forget about it, kid. You didn't know that daggit was mean." He grinned widely. "Besides, that's what patrol partners are for. We look out for each other... right?"

Boxey returned the grin. "Right!" He finished dressing Starbuck's shoulder.

When he was done, they divided what was left of the rations. Starbuck looked slyly at Boxey, who was eating eagerly.

"Tastes pretty good right about now, huh?"

Boxey laughed and nodded, his mouth too full to answer.

Starbuck leaned his head back to look at the sun. "It won't be dark for a few centars. We'd better rest up till then. We'll start back for the ship when it's safer."

Apollo sat slumped in his chair. His quarters, which had always seemed too cramped, suddenly felt much too large and empty. He stared out at the portal view of space and tried not to think that the last time he'd sat here, Boxey had been in his lap. He tried not to think about anything. As he rubbed his tired eyes, he heard a noise at his side. He turned and saw Muffit looking up at him. To Apollo, the drone appeared forlorn-looking and he was abruptly seized by a desire to comfort the daggit.

He slid out of the chair and sat down on the floor, where it was easier to stroke the top of Muffit's head. Sometimes it seemed that this mechanical substitute for Boxey's beloved daggit was actually alive. Muffit made a contented sound and the familiarity of it was almost too much for the small amount of control Apollo was maintaining. He rested his head against Muffit's and fought to hold back the tears that welled up in his eyes and the sobs that threatened to choke him. He couldn't surrender to them. Giving in meant giving up. All hope for Boxey would vanish the moment he yielded.

As he waged his lonely, losing battle, Apollo became aware of someone standing next to him. Even before he turned to see the blurred image of Adama, he knew who it would be. Somehow his father always knew when he needed him. He'd always been there... firm and strong as the Caprican mountains.

With a small grunt of effort, Adama sat down next to his son and rested a hand on his shoulder. He didn't want to say what he'd come here to say, but there was no need. Apollo knew.

"You've called off the search." It was a statement, not a question. Apollo was staring down at the daggit, one hand fondling its ear. His voice was barely audible.

"Yes, Son... there was no other choice. We've searched every ship in the fleet." The commander sighed and went on. "I can no longer justify the manpower it requires." Apollo winced at that but said nothing. "Apollo... the hardest thing to do is to give up hope, but sometimes... sometimes a foolish hope can hurt more than help. Boxey's gone, Son... I don't think any amount of searching will ever find him."

Apollo turned to Adama. His face was contorted with despair. "Father..." It was almost a plea and his voice faltered, quavering.

Adama reacted instinctively and took his son in his arms... tears flowing freely for the anguish he could not spare him. As Apollo felt Adama's arm draw tightly around him, it was as if he were a child again, seeking shelter from a painful world. He lay his head on his father's shoulder... closed his eyes and finally let the tears come.

The trip back to the Viper had been long and painful. Starbuck's shoulder made it impossible for him to carry both the air tanks, so their pace was kept slow by Boxey constantly having to rest with his bulky load. By the time they'd finally stumbled down the beach and reached the ship, neither could do more than climb wearily into the fighter and fall fast asleep.

The next afternoon however, found them both up and busy. The oxygen had to be transferred into the ship... a long process, but they made sure everything else was in order while they waited.

Watching Boxey brush sand out of one of the engine's intake ducts, Starbuck wondered if he looked as dirty and bedraggled. What a way to show up on the Galactica. That was, of course, assuming they found the Galactica.

When everything was finally ready it was early evening. Starbuck was anxious to be underway... hunger not the least of his reasons. He called to Boxey, who'd gone down to the shore for one last look at the waves.

"Let's go, partner!"

Using his discarded native clothing and his uniform jacket, Starbuck tried to pad the space Boxey had to ride in. "Lean all the way back so you don't get thrown against it," he instructed. "It won't be quite as bad as the first time, but the pressure will last longer. We have to escape the planet's gravity."

"I'll be all right, Starbuck." Boxey sounded like he was trying to convince them both.

"Sure you will." Starbuck settled into the cockpit, thought of something and got up again. He removed his helmet and placed it on Boxey's head. "There... that'll help a little."

"But what about you?" the boy asked.

"Nothing to worry about. I've got a padded seat, remember?"

The canopy closed around them and a few centons later the Viper was climbing through the atmosphere, leaving a pit of blasted sand as the only mark on the beach that they had ever been there.

As Apollo walked the familiar path to Alpha Launch Bay, he felt somehow detached from his surroundings. People passed, intercoms sounded, life continued, but Apollo seemed apart, as if he were an invisible observer. He was numb to anything but the mechanics of living. He supposed the feeling would pass. Time was supposed to help.

Funny, he thought, he hadn't felt like this when he lost Serina. That had been like losing a piece of his own heart. He'd grieved and felt lost, but at least Serina's death had been certain. There was no doubt she was gone from his life. And he'd had Boxey there to help him through it... to give him something to focus on besides the hurt. Boxey was like having a part of Serina there with him. He'd always been able to see her in the boy's eyes.

But this total vacumn was foreign to him. It was the uncertainty and mystery, he supposed. The nagging and lingering thought that Boxey could be alive somewhere... alive and needing him. It was this complete helplessness that created the void.

Apollo entered the bay and was greeted by Boomer. They were going on patrol... Apollo's first since Boxey had disappeared. After initially greeting his friend, Apollo said nothing. He merely climbed into his Viper and readied himself for launch. Boomer was understanding and thoughtful. He kept conversation to business... feeling that what Apollo needed least of all was sympathy or pity.

The captain recognized his friend's gesture and was grateful for it. He didn't want to talk to anyone just yet. He listened almost indifferently as the bridge transferred control to their craft. Then he quit thinking of anything but flying as he was propelled down the launch tube.

Centars has passed for the two passengers in the lone Viper. Starbuck had flown to his last certain position and then begun flying around the area in concentric circles, operating his long range scanners. He knew inside the odds on finding the fleet were pretty slim, but he couldn't admit it... to Boxey or himself.

"How you doing back there?" he called to Boxey.

"Okay... but how long before we get home?" The boy sounded tired and restless.

"I'm not sure, kid but... wait a centon."

"What is it, Starbuck?" Boxey came as close to the front as he could get.

"Thought I caught something. Could be nothing." Starbuck was muttering to himself. "Let's take a closer look."

The Viper veered off towards the mysterious blip. Starbuck studied the screen intently.

"Anything there?" Boxey asked hopefully.

"No... not yet... wait... hold on. Yeah, there she is again. Still kind of far yet to make it out. Gotta get a little closer. Now... let's see what you are." He flicked on the analyzer and unbelievably the outline of a Colonial Viper appeared on the viewer. Starbuck stared at it for a full centon before he could convince himself it was real.

"We found 'em," he announced in awe. "By all the Lords... Boxey, we found 'em!" He turned excitedly to look at Boxey, who was grinning from ear to ear. "All right! Let's let 'em know we're here."

At that moment the Viper's comline crackled to life. "Unidentified craft... hold your position." It was an unfamiliar voice, but Starbuck didn't care. He felt an uncontrollable urge to kiss the pilot... whoever he was. Another Viper appeared on his screen.

"Looks like we've run into the long-range patrol," Starbuck informed Boxey.

The other voice now filled the cockpit. "Colonial Viper... please identify yourself."

"Greenbean? Greenbean, is that you?"

"Starbuck?" The young pilot's voice was incredulous.

"You bet your life it's me."

"But how? We all thought... What happened?"

"I'll answer questions later. Right now I just want to get home, okay?"

"Sure thing. Hey, Rueben... we're heading back."

"Gotcha, Greenbean."

It still took nearly a centar of flying to get there, but as they neared the fleet and one by one the familiar shapes appeared, Starbuck was suddenly filled with a mixture of emotions. The sight of home tightened his throat. He'd never really expected to see this old collection of junk heaps again. His mind was filled with images of triad, pyramid, cigars, patrols... and Cassiopeia. He had to blink back unseemly tears as her face appeared in his imagination. Then he thought of Apollo.

Good Lord, he thought. What do I say to Apollo?

"Hey Boxey," he began uncertainly, "How 'bout if I just drop you off and keep on going?"

Boxey laughed at first, then saw Starbuck's grim expression. "What's the matter? Don't you wanna go home?"

"Sure, kid... sure. I just don't know how kindly your dad's gonna take to me shipping out with you like I did."

"But that wasn't your fault. If Dad gets mad at anybody it'll be me."

"I'm not sure he'll see it that way and besides, I should've come back to the fleet the centon I knew you were on board. So it is my fault."

"Don't worry, Starbuck. I'll take care of everything. We're patrol partners, remember?"

"Sure, I remember." Boxey's confidence did little to reassure the worried lieutenant.

After checking in from patrol, Apollo found himself alone again. Boomer had disappeared somewhere so the captain walked back from the bay by himself. As he passed the laboratories, he heard Dr. Wilker call his name.

"Oh Captain, may I have a word with you?"

Apollo turned and stopped... waiting to hear what the doctor had to say.

"Captain... I can't tell you how sorry I am about Boxey."

The warrior gave the man a tight smile and nodded his thanks.

"And I thought... well, I'm sure Muffit must be a constant reminder. I can take him off your hands if you'd like."

For some reason, this unexpected offer caused a bitter resentment to boil inside of Apollo. He fought to keep any outburst from escaping. He knew the man was sincerely trying to help, but all of a sudden keeping Muffit was very important to him.

"That's kind of you to offer, Doc, but I think I'll hang on to him for a while."

"If that's what you want, Captain. It's up to you." He excused himself and went back into the lab.

Apollo watched him disappear behind the sliding door and then continued on his way, deep in thought. It really made no sense to keep the daggit. It wasn't as if the animal were alive and actually missed Boxey. But he wasn't feeling very practical at the moment. With these thoughts occupying his thoughts, he soon reached his quarters. He sighed heavily and pushed the button to open the door.

The moment he walked in, he was assailed with yells of "Surprise!" and "Happy Birthday!" He wasn't quite sure how to react. Everyone who mattered to him was here... Adama, Athena, Boomer, Jolly, Colonel Tigh... and Cassiopeia. As he stood there, debating on what to say, Cassie came up to him, smiling brightly. She kissed him lightly on his cheek.

"Happy Birthday, Apollo."

He supposed that if she could make an effort, then so could he. It touched him that his friends cared so much. He forced a smile and moved to join the party.

As they gathered around the table watching Athena cut and serve the cake, Apollo felt a firm hand on his shoulder. Turning, he met the kind and concerned eyes of his father.

"I hope all this wasn't too soon. They wanted to do something for you."

Apollo shook his head. "It's all right, Father. I appreciate everything."

The comline sounded just then, interrupting their conversation. It was the bridge calling for Adama.

"Sir, Omega here. Our patrol has picked up a small craft on their long-range scanners. They're moving out to investigate."

"Thank you. I'll be right there." Adama glanced around the room, letting his eyes rest upon his son. "Duty calls, I'm afraid. Don't let me break up the party. Colonel?"

Tigh put down his cake. "Yes, Sir." The two men started to leave, when the com buzzed again. Apollo gestured for his father to answer it.

"This is Commander Adama."

"Commander? Omega again." There was a note of suppressed excitement to his voice, conveyed even over the line. "Sir... the patrol is reporting the craft is a Viper." Omega paused, apparently receiving an update. The tension in the room was high as everyone waited. "Sir... it's Lieutenant Starbuck! The patrol is bringing him in. They'll be landing in half a centar."

There was a moment of stunned silence as everyone in the room digested the information, then Boomer let out a whoop of delight. It broke the ice and everyone began talking at once. Adama had a hard time making Omega hear his acknowledgement.

In the midst of all the confusion, Apollo spied Cassiopeia slip from the room. Probably on her way to the bay. He was happy for her. He was glad Starbuck was safe and would soon be home. Why wasn't he jubilant like the others? He tried to examine his feelings and wasn't sure he liked what he found. Was it actually resentment and envy? If someone was going to return from the dead, why Starbuck instead of Boxey?

Apollo noticed then that the room was clearing. What were they saying? They were going to meet Starbuck and wasn't he coming? As he stood, frozen to the spot, he watched the door slide shut after the last one left. He berated himself fiercely.

Come one, pal. Don't be such an idiot? Starbuck is your best friend. Get down to that bay! With a disgusted shake of his head, Apollo followed his friends.

As the landing bay loomed up before the Viper and Starbuck brought her in, he turned to Boxey. "You stay in here till I tell you."

"Why? I wanna see Dad and Muffey."

"Yeah... I know you do. But... he's probably been real worried. Most likely Boomer never got my message, so he doesn't even know you've been with me. I've gotta prepare him... okay?"

"Okay," Boxey agreed reluctantly.

The Viper came to a stop and the canopy lifted. As Starbuck emerged and climbed down, he was nearly knocked off his feet by a sobbing Cassiopeia. He winced as she put pressure on his wounded shoulder. Instantly she pulled back, trying to stifle her tears.

"You're hurt." Her eyes reflected her concern.

"Just a little," he reassured her and gathered her back into his arms. He stood there, holding her... content to stay that way forever.

All too soon, he became aware of others pressing around them. There were Boomer and Jolly standing to one side, trying to contain their pleasure at seeing him. He saw Athena standing with Adama and Tigh... all waiting patiently for their turn to welcome him and he was sure, flood him with questions. And there, on his right, was Apollo. Starbuck almost turned away from the sight of his friend's strained face. He could only guess at what the captain had been through in the last week.

Apollo gave him no more time to think. He came forward, smiling warmly, tears glistening in his eyes. He grasped Starbuck's forearm in the traditional greeting.

"Welcome home," he said huskily.

"Apollo... wait a centon before you say anything else." Starbuck looked around the group, then down at Cassiopeia. Oh, how he wished... but things had to be said. Apollo was waiting... and Boxey was waiting. "Apollo, I..." He swallowed. "I think I took off with something that belongs to you."

"With something of mine?" Apollo was bewildered. "What are you talking about?"

"Just wait here." He reluctantly removed himself from Cassie's arms and climbed back onto the ship. He reached behind the seat and pulled out an excited and wiggling Boxey.

The silence in the bay was deafening. For a moment no one moved. Apollo stared up at his son... not ready to believe his eyes. His mouth worked soundlessly, then he managed to get out one word.

"Boxey?" It was a question and a prayer all at once.

"Hi, Dad!" Boxey climbed down off the Viper and ran to Apollo, who gathered the little boy into a joyous embrace.

Starbuck turned away. He couldn't watch the tears streaming down his friend's face. He climbed down unnoticed and stood by the Viper, uncertain of what was going to happen next.

At first Apollo was too amazed and relieved to do anything more than stroke Boxey's hair and hold him tight, but then confusion crept into his mind. He looked up at Starbuck and back at Boxey.

"But how... Starbuck, what were you doing with him? Where did you find him? We looked everywhere."

The lieutenant stepped forward, ready to try and explain, but Boxey took matters into his own hands.

"Starbuck took me on patrol with him. We're patrol partners. And we had to land and..." Boxey had started out eagerly, but his voice trailed off as he noticed his father's expression was no longer happy. Nor was he looking at him... but rather at Starbuck.

"You did what?" The tone his father used frightened Boxey. There seemed such anger in those words and Boxey didn't understand why.

Starbuck had averted his eyes when Boxey started explaining. He didn't look up as Apollo came towards him.

"Starbuck, I don't believe it. You actually took Boxey on patrol with you?"

The lieutenant didn't answer. There didn't seem to be anything he could say. Boxey had said it all.

Apollo took his silence for an affirmative answer and he felt something snap inside himself. "Of all the irresponsible... stupid..." He never finished his sentence. Instead he swung his fist with all the strength he had.

Starbuck hadn't seen the blow coming, but he felt the impact. He thought for a moment that his head was going to come off. When he could see clearly again, he found he was on the ground staring up at an outraged Apollo. The captain seemed ready to come after him again... oblivious to a crying Boxey tugging on his jacket, trying to pull him away. Suddenly a voice boomed out.

"Apollo!"

The angry warrior stopped immediately. He'd heard that tone in his father's voice before.

"I won't have my warriors brawling with one another. Apollo, take Boxey and go to your quarters."

Apollo stood glaring at Starbuck for a moment. He slowly unclenched his fists, picked up his son and strode angrily out of the bay.

After watching them leave, Adama turned back to Starbuck.

"Lieutenant!"

Starbuck looked up at Adama and saw the angry glint in his eyes.

"Report to the Life Station and have your injuries taken care of. Then come immediately to my quarters. There will be a formal inquiry where you can explain your actions and your whereabouts for the last few days." The commander left the bay, followed by Athena and Tigh. The colonel managed to give the warrior a disapproving glare before he left.

Well, so much for happy reunions, Starbuck thought glumly as he struggled to his feet. Both Boomer and Jolly were giving him hard looks. He would find no mercy there. They walked off toward their Vipers, talking between themselves.

The only person left was Cassiopeia. Starbuck couldn't tell what she was thinking, but he did note that she was no longer crying. He took a tentative step towards her. She held out her arm, stopping him as his chest made contact with her hand. Her too, then.

"Starbuck... I'm glad you're home safe. I really am, but I..." She looked over her shoulder to where Apollo had disappeared with Boxey. When she turned back to Starbuck, her face was full of an emotion he'd never seen there. She was disappointed with him.

"Do you have any idea what he's been through? He was half out of his mind with grief." She shook her head. "Sometimes I don't think I know you very well." With that, she turned away and followed the others out of the bay.

Great! That's all I need. Starbuck tried to massage his aching jaw, but it was still too sore. Welcome home, Starbuck.

Apollo sat comfortably in the chair in his room, holding Boxey in his lap. He still found it hard to believe his son was back... alive and well. Muffit sat at their side and Boxey let one arm dangle to fondle the top of the daggit's head. As Apollo closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax, all the weariness of the last week came washing over him. He didn't fight it now.

"Dad?"

"Hmmm?"

"Will Starbuck get into trouble?"

"I don't know. Probably some. I don't really care."

"But Starbuck is your friend. Shouldn't you care what happens to him?" Apollo remained silent so Boxey added, "I care. What'll happen to him?"

"Most likely they'll suspend him for a while."

"You mean he won't be able to fly?" Boxey was shocked at the thought. "But that's his favoritest thing to do."

"That's what most punishments are. If he didn't like to do it, it wouldn't be a punishment."

"Dad... do you hate Starbuck?"

Apollo sighed and opened his eyes. "No... I don't hate him. I'm just... upset with him right now."

"But you hurt him."

Apollo glanced down at Boxey. "I know I shouldn't have hit him. I was just so worried about you." He hugged the boy tighter.

"That's not what I mean," Boxey persisted. "He was hurt before you hit him. Didn't you see his face when you were yelling at him? I thought he was going to cry."

Apollo didn't say anything. He just sat quietly... thinking.

"Starbuck said that when you love somebody you'd do anything to keep 'em from getting hurt."

"Hmmmm. Starbuck said that?"

"Uh-huh. Dad... not flying is going to make Starbuck sad, isn't it?'

"I suppose so."

"Dad... if I did something bad, would you hate me?"

"Of course not!" Apollo sighed again. "It works both ways, Boxey. When you love someone, you don't do things that will hurt them. And when somebody you love hurts you, it hurts extra bad... because you expect more from them. That's why I'm angry at Starbuck. Not because I hate him but because he should've known better."

They were both quiet for so long that Boxey thought Apollo had dozed off. He gazed down at Muffit. Well... if he was going to do something, he better to it now... before his father fell asleep or he lost his courage. He pushed himself up out of Apollo's arms and into a sitting position.

"Dad... I hafta talk to you."

Starbuck lay on his bunk, watching the smoke from his cigar swirl up to the ceiling and be whisked away by the circulation vent. Frack, but things were in a mess. The board had suspended him from duty for a sectar. He probably could've dealt with that, but he'd been confined to the ship as well. No trips to the Rising Star, no triad, no pyramid... and no one on this ship was talking to him.

He heard someone coming down the hall so he quickly extinguished his cigar and rolled over. He wasn't in the mood to face anyone. Besides, he'd been working on such a good case of self-pity, he didn't want to ruin it. He heard two sets of footsteps enter the room and stop at his bunk. He was sure that if he didn't say anything, whoever it was would go away.

"Starbuck?" It was Apollo... and there was a pleading quality in his voice that caused the lieutenant to forget his resolve and turn over to look at his visitors. Boxey was standing beside his father, looking very down in the mouth. Starbuck sat up curiously and slid off the bunk, taking a seat on the lower one. Apollo settled on the opposite side.

"Starbuck... I want to apologize for the way I acted. I shouldn't have hit you." Apollo glanced down at Boxey, who smiled weakly.

"You don't have to worry about me." Starbuck wasn't sure where this conversation was leading. "I'm pretty tough."

"Boxey told me everything."

"Uh... everything?"

"Yes. About how you didn't even know he was in the ship until it was too late and the scanners had failed... and how you were only trying to keep him from getting into trouble."

Starbuck looked quickly at Boxey who was staring at the floor. "He told you that?"

Apollo nodded. "We're on our way to tell my father, so your suspension will probably be lifted."

"Hey... well, thanks." He couldn't believe his good fortune.

Apollo stood and made to go. "We'd better be on our way." Apollo hesitated and Starbuck could tell the captain hadn't quite said all he'd came to say. "Starbuck... I also wanted to apologize for doubting you."

"Apollo..."

"No... You're my friend, Starbuck. I should've known you would never do anything to endanger Boxey's life."

Now it was Starbuck's turn to feel ill at ease. "Don't worry about it, buddy. I'm sure it was more than a little crazy around here for you."

Apollo smiled and held out his arm in a gesture of acceptance and forgiveness. Starbuck clasped his friend's forearm tightly and returned the smile. After a moment they broke contact and Apollo rounded his son up to go.

As they started to leave, Starbuck noticed Muffit wasn't with them. "Hey, Boxey." The boy turned. "Where's Muffit? I thought you couldn't wait to see him?"

Boxey glanced up at Apollo then down at the floor. "I shouldn't have been in the ship. I disobeyed the rules."

Starbuck understood now. He looked up at Apollo, but continued talking to Boxey. "So that's how you're being punished?"

"Yeah. I can't play with Muffey for a secton."

"We left him at Cassiopeia's," Apollo added. "So she knows the truth and should be here in a few centons. She gave us a head start."

Starbuck smiled his thanks but continued to look thoughtful. "You know, Boxey... telling what really happened was a brave thing to do... wasn't it, Captain?"

Apollo nodded. "Yes it was."

"And what was it you said, Boxey, about bravery being rewarded and cowardice punished?" Starbuck was still staring at Apollo.

"Well," Boxey began, "Grandfather told me that a brave deed merits just rewards... cowardice merits just punishment."

"Now... it doesn't seem right to me that a person who's been as brave as you should be punished. Does it seem right to you, Boxey?"

"No, Sir."

"If you get punished, that would mean your grandfather doesn't know what he's talking about... right?"

Boxey nodded slowly.

"Right, Captain?"

Apollo glanced upwards in an appeal for help, but he'd been worked into a corner. "Right," he finally said.

"Now... we all know that the commander always knows what he's talking about. Sooo... you know what that means, don't you, Boxey?"

The boy looked puzzled a moment then his face lit up. He looked at Apollo who smiled and nodded.

"Oh boy!" He ran and threw his arms around Starbuck. "Thanks, Starbuck. Thanks."

The lieutenant chucked the child under the chin. "Don't mention it, kid." He gave Boxey a wink, which the boy tried awkwardly to return.

"Come on, Boxey." Apollo took his son's hand and started to lead him out of the room. He stopped in the doorway and turned. "Boxey also said you saved his life." Apollo indicated Starbuck's shoulder. The warrior self-consciously tried to wave the subject aside, but Apollo stopped him. "Thank you for giving my son back to me." They both left the bunkroom, leaving Starbuck to stare after them thoughtfully.

Apollo and Boxey walked hand in hand down the corridor, Muffit tagging along behind them. They'd talked to the commander and Colonel Tigh and gotten things straightened out for Starbuck... a process during which Apollo couldn't quite rid himself of the uneasy feeling that he'd been starbucked by his own son.

Oh well, he thought. It didn't matter anymore whose fault anything was. Boxey and Starbuck were back and Apollo was sure they'd both learned their lessons. He reached down and tousled Boxey's hair affectionately.

"That was an awful nice thing you did for Starbuck. I'm proud of you."

Boxey had looked worried at first, but now grinned broadly. "We're patrol partners and they look out for each other."

"Is that so? Did Starbuck tell you that?"

"Uh-huh." Boxey's free arm brushed against the side of his tunic and he let out an "Oh" of excitement. "I almost forgot. I have something for you, Dad." He pulled out a bulky object and held it out for Apollo.

He took the shell and examined it closely. It was a beautiful red with greenish-blue streaks running on the underside.

"It's a birthday present."

"Boxey, it's wonderful."

"I found it on the beach where we landed. Dad, do you think about Mom very much?"

Apollo looked down at his son, curious about the change of subject. He knelt down to be on Boxey's level and took him by the shoulders.

"I think about her all the time."

Boxey nodded, as if expecting that. "Me too. When I was on the beach it reminded me of when Mom took me. We spent all day looking for shells. I saved the best ones in a box. I never got to get them before we came here. Our house was gone anyway." Boxey's voice had grown soft as he remembered and Apollo had to blink the tears away as his own memories vied for his attention.

Boxey continued. "When I found this, it looked like one Mom found. It made me think of her being happy... not sad like the last time I saw her. I thought you should have it so you could think of her happy too."

Apollo had given up trying to stop the tears. He embraced his son tenderly. "I love you, Boxey."

"I love you too, Dad. Happy birthday."