Mega hugs and kudos go to Melissa for beta-reading this thing. She did an
excellent job and any remaining mistakes are ours, not hers.

                                Captive Soul
                      by Rita G Mac Auslan and Claire

Disclaimer: We don't own 'em, we just like to play with them. 


"Come on, Starbuck." Apollo pulled at the sleeve of his friend's flight
jacket. "We were meant to be in that meeting 15 centons ago."

"It's not our fault the patrol ran late," pointed out Starbuck, throwing
his helmet to one of the technicians as he stepped onto the platform lift.
"We had to check out that planet."

"*I* know that, and *you* know that, but this is the Council we're talking
about," replied Apollo with a wry grin.

Starbuck met Apollo's grin with one of his own. "True, they wouldn't know
what to do if a *real* emergency came up." The lift shuddered to a halt,
and the two warriors stepped off it and headed towards the Council
chambers. Opening the doors to the chambers, they both noticed that
everyone else in the room was looking at one person.

"Ah, Captain, Lieutenant," the voice of Commander Adama drifted over to
them, "I was wondering when you would return from the patrol. I'd like to
introduce you to the man who's going to replace Sire Clairus."

Starbuck watched as Sire Uri moved out of his line of sight and he could
finally see the person Adama was talking about.

"Captain, Lieutenant, this is -"

"Kale," whispered Starbuck, feeling all the blood drain out of his face.

A look of confusion passed over Adama's face. "You know Sire Kale?"

Starbuck didn't hear the question. He was too busy staring at the man in
front of him, praying to all the Lords of Kobol that if he closed his eyes
that when he opened them again he would find this was all some terrible
dream.

"Lieutenant!" Adama's tone brought Starbuck snapping back to reality.

"I knew Kale... Sire Kale back on Caprica, sir."

Apollo stared at Starbuck. His voice was flat, and he looked on the verge
of hyperventilating.

"Yes, although it's been yahrens since I've seen Starbuck," Kale said to
Adama with a smile. Turning, he looked directly into Starbuck's eyes. "It's
good to see you again, Starbuck, we'll have to get together and catch up."

Starbuck nodded once, his soul torn between despair and fear. "Commander,
if you don't need me, I'd like to go over some of the readings we collected
on our patrol." Starbuck hoped that his voice was steady. He couldn't hear
it over the pounding of his heart.

Adama frowned. "Nothing happened, did it?"

"No sir, I'd just like to do it while everything is fresh in my mind,"
answered Starbuck, silently pleading with Adama to let him leave.

Finally, Adama nodded. "Of course, Lieutenant."

Starbuck walked out of the Council chambers, not even pausing when he heard
Apollo call his name. 'Don't look back. Don't look back,' he repeated to
himself. Turning the corner, he broke into a dead run, heading straight for
his quarters. It wasn't until he was sitting with his back against the wall
and the door locked that he allowed himself breathe. The memories flooded
through him.

"Come along, Starbuck. You just do what the gentleman wants and all will be
well. It's nothing you haven't done before, only now you get a chance to
serve real class. Sire Kale is on the ruling council in Caprica City. He's
only visiting Umbra for a few days and wants some entertainment while he's
here." The orphanage director pulled the reluctant boy rapidly down the
street towards the baths.

Although Starbuck was only 11 yahrens old, give or take a few, he knew all
too well what the "gentleman" would want. It was the same thing the older
boys, charged with caring for the younger ones in the forest during and
after the Cylon attack on Umbra, wanted. The same thing the older boys at
the orphanage wanted. The same thing so many of the orphanage workers -
male and female - wanted. His pretty face and his smooth body. A rentable
property. He'd been to the baths with the director before.

When they got to the baths, the director went to find Sire Kale. Starbuck
sighed to himself, stripped, and neatly folded his tunic and pants. At
least then he could be sure his clothing would be untorn and unstained when
he was allowed to don it again. He turned from putting the clothes on a
dusty shelf when he heard the door swing open.

"Here he is, Sire. Isn't he everything I promised?" The director was at his
most obsequious. He pushed Starbuck towards the regally dressed man and
Starbuck knelt gracefully before him. Sometimes, if he was docile and
willing, he wasn't hurt as much. Sometimes.

"Well, now," Sire Kale said, "Let's just take a closer look." He bent down
and grasped the boy's chin, raising the bent head to inspect the face.
"Very pretty. Very pretty indeed." He let go of Starbuck's chin and
Starbuck bent his head submissively again. Now the man circled Starbuck
slowly, taking off his gloves. Starbuck, following Kale's movements with
his eyes, never turning his head, raised his buttocks for inspection. Kale
laughed and slapped the proffered cheeks with his gloves. "Experienced are
you? Well, perhaps I can - ahh - broaden your experience, eh?" The
orphanage director chuckled appreciatively.

Kale inspected the pubescent genitals and nodded approvingly. "As promised,
Sire, fully pubescent," the director purred.

Kale snorted. "You've checked that out yourself, haven't you, Larby?" Larby
frowned, unsure of how to answer that. "It's all right, man, I didn't
request a virgin. Of course, I'll not pay for one, either." He let go of
Starbuck's scrotum and straightened, pulling on his gloves. "Three days at
the agreed upon amount." He handed Larby a small pouch. " The deposit.
We'll meet here on the fourth day and I will return the merchandise and
give you the price we agreed to. Come, boy." He snapped his fingers and
Starbuck crept quickly to his side on hands and knees. "Good training,"
Kale complimented the director. "In three days, then. And perhaps he'll
have some new tricks in his repertoire."

"Stopitstopitstopitstopit." Starbuck rocked back and forth, trying
desperately to get the memories to leave him. His flesh crawled as he felt
Kale's hands all over his body. Touching him, tasting him, invading him.
Scrambling towards the bathroom, he barely made it there before he started
vomiting. He stayed in the bathroom, until his body was finally back under
control. Crawling out, he pulled himself up onto his bed. Curling himself
up, Starbuck fell into an exhausted sleep.

***

Apollo walked into the Officer's Lounge. He'd tried several times to see
Starbuck after the other man had all but fled from the Council Chambers.
However, each time he'd gone to the Lieutenant's quarters there had been no
answer, and Apollo didn't have the clearance to override the door controls.
Getting a drink from the bar, he looked around for a seat. It was then that
he saw Starbuck, sitting with his back to him. Heading to where the
Lieutenant was sitting Apollo put his hand on his friend's shoulder.
Starbuck jumped and spun round with fear in his eyes.

"Apollo," he said quickly, "you... surprised me."

Apollo took the seat opposite Starbuck. "The Lords of Kobol, Starbuck, you
look terrible." Starbuck's eyes were red.

"I was busy last night," Starbuck lied. "I just didn't get much sleep."

Apollo heard the lie, but didn't call Starbuck on it. When the other man
wanted to talk, he'd be there. He knew that pushing Starbuck to talk about
whatever it was that was bothering him was useless. The warrior would just
retreat in on himself, and Apollo would *never* find out what was wrong.
"I've heard a lot about Kale. He seems to be quite a man. Father says he
was one of the strongest people on the Council in Caprica City. A good man
to have on your side."

Starbuck closed his eyes, wishing Apollo would stop talking. He didn't want
to hear about how good Kale was.

"I wonder if he's changed much since then?" Apollo said.

"I wouldn't know," mumbled Starbuck. 'But it's too much to wish for. Lords,
why now?' He was unaware that Apollo had asked him something until he saw
him looking at him intently. "Sorry, Apollo, what was that?"

"I asked how you knew Kale back on Caprica?" Apollo repeated.

Starbuck looked at his friend, his mind racing through the lies he could
tell him. After all, he couldn't tell him the truth, could he?
"I-"Starbuck's words trailed off as the object of the conversation walked
into the room with Colonel Tigh. The Lieutenant's heart leapt into his
throat and he felt his face turn red as Kale's eyes fixed on him.

The two men walked over to them.

Kale smiled. "Captain, Starbuck."

An involuntarily shiver ran through Starbuck, his name sounding like an
obscene caress on Kale's tongue.

Starbuck stood up quickly. "I... have to go," he stammered before leaving
the Lounge.

Apollo watched Starbuck nearly run out of the room. "I'm sorry," he said,
turning to Tigh and Kale. "I don't know what's wrong with him recently."

"Nothing that won't be fixed after I speak with him," replied Tigh.

Apollo winced at the angry tone in Tigh's voice.

"Maybe it's his love life," offered Kale. "After all, he always was...
popular in Umbra. I doubt that's changed much."

Tigh seemed slightly placated now that he knew Kale wasn't offended by
Starbuck's behaviour, but Apollo knew the younger man was still in serious
trouble with the Colonel. Resolving to speak to Starbuck before Tigh got to
him, Apollo stood up. "If you'll excuse me, sirs."

"Of course, Apollo," nodded Tigh.

"Captain." Kale held out his hand. "Hopefully we'll get to speak more
later."

Apollo shook the proffered hand. "I'd like that," he said, before walking
out the Lounge in search of Starbuck.

Starbuck was frantic. He knew he'd blown it with Tigh. If he went back to
his quarters and didn't answer the door, Tigh would simply override the
lock. He finally decided on the one place he always felt safe.

Sealed in the cockpit of his viper, Starbuck tried to be rational. What
could Kale do? Could Kale want to blackmail Starbuck? What did he want to
keep quiet? He liked young boys, not full-grown men, so surely he didn't
want to resume the 'relationship'. 'No, Lords, please not that.' Starbuck's
carefully crafted persona as a gambling, womanizing, warrior began to
crack. Maybe, maybe Starbuck could find something else to pay him off with.
What he didn't know - what did he have, what could he get, that a Sire, a
member of the Council, wouldn't have even readier access to. The only thing
Starbuck could come up with was procuring young boys for him - and that
would be worse than falling back into Kale's clutches himself.

Starbuck's many encounters with Kale told him he was on the right track.
What were his options? He would not, could not, procure boys for Kale, no
matter what. That left - himself. Or telling the truth before Kale did. No,
unthinkable. He'd sooner put himself out an airlock. No one must ever know.
No one. Ever. That left offering himself in return for Kale's silence.
Starbuck stifled a sob. That was all he had to offer. All he had ever had.
He calmed himself, having reached his decision. He would wait for Kale to
confront him, avoiding him for as long as possible. He rubbed at his face
and pushed his hair back. Now he had to come up with a story Apollo would
actually believe.

"Frak," muttered Apollo to himself, looking around Starbuck's quarters.
Where *is* he? The Captain had eventually tired of standing outside
Starbuck's door, waiting for an answer, and had overridden the lock using
his father's command codes. Apollo knew he wasn't supposed to have them,
but once, when he was younger, he and Zac had managed to hack into the
computer and find Adama's codes. He'd never used them before, but he was so
worried about his friend that he felt it was the only thing he could do.
He'd looked all over the ship, before finally deciding to use the codes to
gain entrance to Starbuck's quarters. 'Okay,' he said to himself, '*Think*
Apollo. Where does Starbuck go when he needs to think? I've already checked
the simulator and he wasn't there.' A light suddenly went off in Apollo's
head. 'So that leaves the viper bays. Running out of his friend's quarters,
Apollo headed to the launch bays.

***

Apollo jumped off the platform lift before it had even stopped moving.

"Captain? Is there anything I can do for you?" one of the technicians
asked.

"You haven't seen Lieutenant Starbuck, have you?" Apollo asked.

"Yes, he's in one of the vipers."

Apollo smiled. "Thanks," he said, as he headed over in the direction the
technician pointed.

***

Starbuck was so caught up in his thoughts that he jumped when he heard a
knocking on the cockpit of the viper. Looking up, he saw Apollo sitting on
the viper, staring at him in concern. Cracking open the canopy, Starbuck
met his friend's eyes.

"I've been looking for you everywhere," Apollo said.

"Yeah, well, I needed to think," replied Starbuck.

"What's wrong?" Apollo reached out to Starbuck, drawing his hand back when
the other man flinched away from the touch.

Starbuck closed his eyes briefly. He hadn't meant to flinch, but the
memories of Kale touching him were too recent, and the reaction had been
automatic.

Concern washed over Apollo. Never before had Starbuck ever flinched from
him as though he were afraid. Apollo looked deeply into Starbuck's eyes and
was shocked to discover that was what he saw - fear. He'd seen Starbuck run
through many emotions, but fear had never been one of them. He'd once
overheard his father commenting to Tigh that he thought Starbuck had a
death wish, as the younger man always dived head first into dangerous
situations. Apollo had laughed at the thought. No one he knew loved life
more than Starbuck. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Apollo brought his
mind back to the present. "Starbuck, what is it?" he asked softly. "Why are
you so afraid?"

Starbuck looked into the green eyes of his closest friend. He could trust
Apollo. Apollo had *always* been there when he needed him. But could he
bring himself to tell his friend exactly how he knew Kale? "Apollo, I-" The
decision was taken out of Starbuck's hands as Tigh's voice boomed across
the launch bay.

"*Starbuck!*"

Apollo cursed inwardly at the Colonel. He was sure Starbuck had been about
to tell him something, but now, he could see Starbuck closing himself off,
as the Lieutenant's personal defenses dropped into place.

Tigh strode across the launch bay. As soon as he'd left Kale, he'd tracked
down Starbuck to the viper bay, wanting to ask him what the frak he'd
thought he was doing behaving like that in the Officer's Lounge. Stopping
next to the viper, he looked up. "Get down here, Lieutenant."

Starbuck climbed out of the cockpit and gracefully dropped to the floor.

Tigh watched as Apollo followed and stood next to him. "Captain, I'd like
to speak to the Lieutenant alone. Please leave us."

Apollo looked from Tigh to Starbuck. He didn't want to leave his friend,
but he could hardly disobey a direct order. "Yes sir," he said, reaching
out and squeezing Starbuck's shoulder in support, before he turned and
walked over to the platform lift. Getting on the lift, he turned and saw
Tigh watching him, obviously waiting until he was out of sight before he
started on Starbuck. Rubbing his hand over his face, Apollo sighed. There
was something wrong with Starbuck, *that* much was obvious. But what was
it? And what did it have to do with Kale? Resolving to do some
investigating, Apollo set the lift to stop on the same level the records
room was on. There was something in Starbuck's past that was coming back,
and Apollo was going to find out what.

***

Heading down an empty corridor, Apollo stopped outside the records room,
typing in the access code to open the door. "Computer," Apollo commanded
the personnel computer as soon as he walked into the room, "Access Academy
admission records for Starbuck, incoming cadet, Caprica Academy."

"Working. Starbuck, underage admission request. No family of record.
Guardian - Umbra Orphan's League. Signatory - Umbra Orphanage Director
Larby. Guarantor - Kale, Chief Councilor, Caprica City. End record."

'Larby? Why does that name ring a bell?' Apollo wondered. And what was
Starbuck's problem with Kale if Kale had sponsored him into the Academy?
One problem at a time. "Computer. Access shipboard rosters. Locate Larby."

"Working. Larby. Former Director, Umbra Orphanage. Current occupation -
Director, Orphan Barge."

Without a second thought, Apollo headed to the shuttle bay to catch the
next ride to the Orphan Barge.

While Apollo was researching Starbuck's past, the warrior being
investigated was obeying Tigh's orders and requesting admission to Kale's
quarters in order to apologize to him.

"Come in, Lieutenant," Kale greeted him. "Colonel Tigh indicated you would
be dropping by. I think we need to talk."

"I came to apologize for my rudeness. I have nothing else to say." It
occurred to him that Kale had never allowed him to speak anyway.

"I do. For example, I *could* arrange to have you assigned to me on a
full-time basis - say, as a bodyguard against the threats I might begin to
receive," the Councilor said in a low voice, smiling pleasantly. "Then what
would you do?"

Starbuck didn't answer.

Kale continued. "Or I could tell them about your - ahh, occupation, before
you were accepted into the Academy."

Starbuck winced.

"Come in," Kale reiterated.

Starbuck followed Kale into the opulent room, but remained by the door
until Kale approached him and stroked his cheek. Starbuck jerked violently
and pulled away. "Get away from me," he hissed.

Kale's ministrations became more intimate rather than ceasing. Starbuck
flushed and stepped quickly away from Kale and further into the room. Now
Kale was between him and the door.

Kale looked at the warrior before him. "You haven't changed, Starbuck,
you're still as beautiful as ever. Come here."

"No."

Kale's eyes narrowed. "It seems I'm going to have to remind you of your
training." Kale took a step towards Starbuck. "You know, the quarters of
Council members are soundproofed," he said softly before grabbing
Starbuck's uniform and pulling him close. "Handy, isn't it?" With a swift
pull, Kale pulled Starbuck's uniform down around his arms, exposing his
chest. "So beautiful."

A sob escaped Starbuck's throat. "Don't do this."

Kale's eyes darkened. "*Never* tell me no."

Starbuck didn't see the hand coming until it was too late, and he flew back
onto the bed. He could feel the trickle of blood coming from the corner of
his mouth. Before he could get off the bed, Kale was straddling him.
Starbuck could feel the other mans hardness pressing into his thigh.
Undoing his own clothing, Kale released his hard erection. "You know what I
want, Starbuck," Kale said as he shifted further up the body beneath him.

Starbuck nodded, hating himself for his acquiescence and the way his body
had responded to the slap, as he took the erection into his mouth.

Kale sighed as he felt the tongue sweep around the head of his erect penis.
Starbuck always had been good at this. In fact, he was the best Kale had
ever had. Kale could feel himself close to coming, and, with some regret,
pulled out of Starbuck's mouth.

Starbuck looked up at Kale, afraid that he had somehow upset him. He
couldn't stop the shiver that ran down his spine when Kale leant down and
whispered in his ear, "When I come, it's not going to be in your mouth. Not
this time."

Standing up, Kale pulled Starbuck to his feet and quickly stripped off the
pilot's uniform. When Starbuck was standing there naked, Kale reached to
the table behind him and showed Starbuck a black piece of cloth. Wrapping
it around his head, Kale blindfolded Starbuck with the cloth and smiled. "I
always loved it when you were blindfolded. And now, for the other
equipment." Starbuck heard Kale walked over and unzip a bag. "You'll
remember these, Starbuck, I kept them from our days on Umbra."

Starbuck shivered, those words could mean anything, Kale had had so many
pieces of "equipment" that he liked to use.

"Open your mouth," the words were commanding and Starbuck felt tears of
shame when he obeyed. Starbuck felt the cloth placed in his mouth and tied
around his head. Kale had always been fond of using gags whenever he wanted
silence from his "pet". Starbuck was so lost in his shameful thoughts of
what happened on Umbra that he jumped when he felt the sting of cold
leather on his skin.

Kale laughed as Starbuck started when he felt the whip caress his skin. The
hard black leather was a cool contrast to the young man's soft skin. "Do
you remember this, Starbuck? Remember what it used to do to you?"

The whip nudged Starbuck's legs apart. "Hands and knees," commanded Kale.
Starbuck shakily complied, dropping into position.

Kale smiled as he watched the tremors running through Starbuck body. 'You
*know* what position I want you in."

When Kale finished, he walked around Starbuck's submissive form, noting the
blood and semen dripping from his rear. "Kneel up," he commanded and
Starbuck obeyed, his partially erect member evident. Kale tapped it with
the whip and to Starbuck's shame it responded. Kale laughed. "Well, it
seems *part* of you remembers how to behave. Let's see how well it
remembers. Down." Starbuck got into position again. Kale began using the
whip on Starbuck's back and buttocks. Starbuck's body remembered perfectly
- pain caused arousal - something he hadnn''t felt since he left the Caprican
Academy and Kale's reach - coursed through him.

Kale stopped when he drew blood. Starbuck was shaking with the combination
of pain and unfulfilled arousal. Kale chuckled while he watched. Idly he
thrust the whip's handle in and out of Starbuck's rectum. Removing the
whip, he ordered, "Assume final position."

Starbuck shuddered, knowing he would obey, knowing what those innocent
words meant. Starbuck knelt up, fully erect and throbbing, then sat back on
his heels. The pain this caused brought tears streaming from under the
blindfold. Kale undid the gag and used it to bind Starbuck's hands behind
him. Starbuck started at this and Kale laughed.

"Did you expect me to let you relieve yourself after the way you began this
session?" Kale asked. Starbuck shook his head no. He knew better than to
speak. "Good. At least you still acknowledge the need for discipline." He
walked around until he was facing Starbuck and touched Starbuck's lips with
the whip handle. "Clean it," he commanded.

Starbuck took the whip handle in his mouth and did as he was told, sucking
and licking it clean. This further aroused him and he found himself arching
back to allow his fingers access to his anus. Kale, seeing this, was
infuriated. Jerking the whip out of Starbuck's mouth, he struck him across
the face with the handle. "I said 'no'," he thundered. Losing control, he
kicked Starbuck into a prone position and began using the whip with a
vengeance, not stopping until Starbuck's arms, back, and buttocks were
covered with bloody welts. He paused, panting heavily. When he had regained
control over himself, he kicked Starbuck again, forcing him onto his back.
He grinned at Starbuck's grimace as his raw back touched the rough fibers
of the carpet. "Now," he said, kneeling over Starbuck's head, "clean me."

The cleaning lead to Kale's arousal, as both men knew it would, and then to
Kale's explosive ejaculation. Flat on his back, Starbuck could not swallow
properly and started to gag. Kale watched his face, not removing his now
flaccid penis from the younger man's mouth until his color changed from
lack of oxygen. As Starbuck gasped for air, Kale redressed himself. "So,"
Kale concluded, "I believe we have a deal. My continued silence about our -
previous relationship in return for your continuing - services." Then he
jerked Starbuck up by the hair, removed the blindfold, and untied his arms.

Starbuck blinked at the sudden light. Through all of this, he remained
aroused despite himself. The pain only heightened the arousal. He knew what
came next. He stood, head down, naked and covered with blood and semen.

Kale threw his clothes at him. "Get dressed and get out," he ordered. "I
will inform you when I next require you." Starbuck's head jerked up briefly
at this and Kale correctly interpreted his new anxiety. "Don't worry," he
said soothingly. "I'll make sure it doesn't impinge on your schedule."

***

Apollo looked up as he heard the door to the office open. A small greying
man walked in, holding his hand out towards Apollo.

"Captain Apollo, I'm sorry you had to wait. I'm Director Larby. How can I
help you?"

Apollo shook Larby's hand, and then sat down. "I need some information," he
said.

A look of confusion crossed Larby's face. "What information?"

"It's about someone who was in the orphanage you used to run in Umbra."

Larby leant back in his chair, interlacing his fingers together. "Captain,"
he started, "many orphans came through the Umbran Orphanage, I'm afraid I
simply can't remember them all. And all of the records were destroyed when
the Cylon attacked Caprica. So, I can't guarantee that I'll be able to tell
you anything you want to know." Larby paused. "However, I will try. What is
it you want to know?"

"I need some information on Lieutenant Starbuck."

"Aah, now *him* I remember," Larby smiled. "After all, it's not every day
one of my orphans becomes a Triad champion."

Apollo felt his hopes rise. If Larby remembered Starbuck, then there was a
good chance he would remember Kale. "In that case, you'll also remember the
man who sponsored him into the Academy? Sire Kale."

Larby paled slightly. "Sire Kale?"

Apollo watched Larby's reaction with interest. "That's right. If you
remember Starbuck, then surely you remember Kale."

"Yes. Yes, of course," Larby answered.

"How did he and Starbuck meet?"

Larby was silent for long moments. "I believe it was when Sire Kale was
inspecting the Orphanage. If my memory serves me correctly he mentioned
something about Starbuck reminding him of himself when he was younger. He
made it a point to follow Starbuck's progress, and to see him every time he
was in Umbra. When Starbuck expressed an interest in becoming a warrior,
Sire Kale offered to sponsor him into the Academy in Caprica City."

Apollo nodded, watching as a small bead of sweat broke out above Larby's
upper lip. "Are you sure that's how it happened."

Larby looked indignant. "Of course I'm sure."

"So you have no knowledge as to why Starbuck might dislike Kale?"

"Sire Kale is a great man who took pity on a boy with no family. If it
wasn't for him, Starbuck would never have got into the Academy. Now,
Captain, I suggest you stop trying to besmirch Sire Kale's name, and stop
implying that he is anything but the upright man I know him to be."

Apollo opened his mouth to retort, when suddenly red lights flashed on and
his father's voice came over the Fleet intercom warning of an incoming wave
of Cylon fighters. "Frak!" Apollo muttered, quickly getting up and running
out of the room, towards the shuttle bay.

Larby's eyes narrowed as he watched Apollo leave. Pressing a button on his
desk, he opened a ship to ship intercom. "I'd like to leave a message for
Sire Kale," he said, speaking into the microphone. "Tell him Larby needs to
speak with him. It's very important."

***

Starbuck bit his lower lip to stop himself from crying out. After he'd been
thrown out of Kale's quarters, he'd gone to the Life Centre on the pretext
of seeing Cassiopeia. When he was there, he'd managed to sneak a hand held
regenerator out and take it back to his quarters. He needed to heal his
back before anyone saw the marks. He was taking off his uniform, but it was
a slow process as the fabric had stuck to some of the blood. Starbuck
slowly peeled the uniform away from his body, reopening some of the welts
that had closed. Looking at the bloody fabric in disgust, Starbuck threw
the uniform to the floor. Heading to the turbowash, he quickly stepped in,
ridding himself of Kale's essence that was covering his body, wincing as
the hot water ran over his wounds. Walking back into the bedroom, Starbuck
picked the regenerator up off the bed and switched it on. Lying it back on
the bed, he angled it so that it was aimed at his back. Kneeling down,
Starbuck closed his eyes as the healing beam of the regenerator started to
sweep over his back.

Centons later, a red alert flashed through the ship, and all pilots were
ordered to report to the launch bays. "Frak!" Starbuck swore. Although the
healing on his back had started, it wasn't finished. "Frak! Frak! Frak!"
Starbuck grabbed a clean uniform and quickly pulled it on, before running
out of his quarters, trying to ignore the throbbing off his half-healed
back.

***

"Commander," Omega looked over at Adama, "Captain Apollo is reporting in
from the Orphan Barge."

"The Orphan Barge?" Adama walked over to the comm. "Apollo?"

"Father." Apollo's voice came through the intercom. "I was over here when
the red alert was called."

"You'll have to stay there," Adama told him. "We can't have traffic going
between the ships, and you won't be able to make it back here before the
Cylon fighters reach us."

"Understood, I'll fly back to the Galactica as soon as the red alert is
canceled. Apollo out."

Adama flicked a button on the intercom and looked over at Omega. "Patch me
through to the flight bays."

Omega nodded. "Channel open, sir."

"Blue Squadron, this is Commander Adama. Captain Apollo is on one of the
other ships in the Fleet and unable to make to back to the Galactica. As a
result I am placing Lieutenant Starbuck in command of Blue Squadron. Good
luck to you."

***

Resolutely ignoring the pain radiating through him, Starbuck climbed into
his viper, unable to suppress the grimace that sprang to his face as his
back and buttocks made contact with the hard seat. Putting his helmet on,
the pilot spoke into the radio. "Boomer, you're with me," he said, just as
Rigel's voice came over the intercom informing them Blue Squadron was
cleared for launch.

***

"Star Formation, spreading outward in triads. Triad leaders, Boomer, Jolly,
and me. Stick to your partners, boys and girls," Starbuck announced. The
crack unit immediately formed into three groups of three the leaders'
vipers like the points of a triangle, the wingmates viper tails almost
touching each other before they dispersed.

Boomer, Jolly, and Starbuck led their teams in ever-widening spiral courses
towards the approaching Cylon fighters. "It's divide and conquer time,
folks," Boomer announced. "Brie, Deirdre, stick with me now ladies." He
peeled off to Starbuck's left. Brie and Deirdre, despite the latter's snort
at being called a lady, followed him in close formation.

A sigh came from Jolly's mike. "Okay, our turn next. Off we go, fellas."
Jolly and his wingmen executed the mirror image of Boomer's maneuver.

"Why do we always get the hard part?" whined Greenbean.

"Sorry, Apollo must be affecting my thinking," Starbuck joked. "Look sharp,
now. Hera - no heroics." They headed on what looked like a collision course
with the Cylons. The intent, of course, was to make them split into two
groups, heading toward the two teams off to the sides. But this time it
didn't work. The Cylons kept on coming, straight at them.

"Uh, Starbuck?"

"I see 'em Greenbean. Must be an IL unit directing them. Lemme think a
micron."

"Starbuck, we don't *have* a micron!"

"Calm down. Okay, here's the plan, Boomer, Jolly, you listening?"

"Right here, Bucko."

"I'm all ears, Lieutenant."

"Boomer and Jolly, you start a pincer at 90 and 270. We'll loop over and
under."

"I thought the Colonel didn't approve that strategy, Starbuck?"

"Well, I figure maybe he just wants some real data on its effectiveness."

"Yeah, right."

"Okay, we're in range. On my mark, execute. And . . . now!"

***

"Lords, Starbuck, I have *no* idea how you managed to pull that off."
Greenbean shook his head in amazement.

Starbuck smiled wearily, his body coming off the adrenaline rush that had
sustained him through the fight with the Cylons.

"Starbuck!" Starbuck and Greenbean both turned to see Boomer jogging across
the launch bay. "I owe you one, my friend," the darker warrior said when he
reached them. "I would never have gotten that Cylon off my tail." With a
grin, Boomer gave Starbuck a slap on the back.

Starbuck managed to stifle the scream that rose up in his throat as
Boomer's hand made contact with the welts on his back.

"Starbuck?" Boomer asked, concerned at the grey pallor of his friend. "Are
you okay?"

"I'm... fine," lied Starbuck. "I just think I wrenched my shoulder."

"You should go to the Life Center and get Cassi to look at it," suggested
Greenbean.

"Yeah, I think I will." Starbuck smiled shakily, planning on going nowhere
apart from his quarters.

***

Kale's face darkened. "What did you tell him?" He asked into the intercom.

"Nothing," replied Larby. "But I thought you should know. Captain Apollo is
asking questions, and I don't think he's going to quit until he's got some
answers."

"Leave it to me," Kale assured Larby. "I'll deal with Captain Apollo."
Switching off the intercom, Kale leant back in his chair. "The question,"
he murmured to himself, "is how?"

***

Starbuck's eyes started to close as soon as he lay on the bed. He'd healed
his back as soon as he'd returned to his quarters and all he wanted to do
now was sleep. Commander Adama had scheduled a briefing in another 3
centars, and Starbuck was going to use the time to get some sleep. His eyes
had barely been closed two centons when the intercom sounded. Reaching out,
Starbuck pushed a button. "Starbuck here."

"Starbuck, I want you in my quarters, *now*."

Starbuck's eyes shot open, all traces of exhaustion gone. "But, I-"

"*Now* Starbuck!" Kale's tone betrayed his anger.

Starbuck bit his lower lip. "Yes, sir, I'll be there as soon as I can."

***

Kale smiled at Starbuck. "Have you been having second thoughts about our -
ahh, relationship?"

Starbuck looked at Kale warily. He had no idea what the man was talking
about, but he knew it boded ill for him.

Kale continued. "Let me clarify. Have you decided to trust someone with our
little secret?" Starbuck shook his head no. "No? Are you sure? Not even
your good friend Captain Apollo?" Starbuck shook his head even more
vehemently. "Well, of course I believe you. But it appears your friend is
very interested in how we - shall I say 'got together'. Perhaps I should
tell him." Starbuck looked horrified. Kale grinned. "Or perhaps we should
invite him to join us for a - demonstration?"

Starbuck broke his silence. "No!" Then realizing his mistake, "No, please,
Sire. I haven't told him - anyone - anything. I wouldn't." More quietly, "I
couldn't."

Kale decided, reluctantly, to ignore Starbuck's breach of etiquette. For
now, anyway. "Then you would agree that the Captain needs to be discouraged
in his attempts to learn about us?" Starbuck nodded. "Good. Make sure he
loses interest. I really don't care how you do it. I suspect, however, that
continuing your friendship with him is not in anyone's best interests."

Starbuck sighed and closed his eyes. Apollo was the best thing that had
ever happened to him. "So, you'll take care of it?" Starbuck nodded.
"Excellent. Now, about your speaking without permission . . ."

***

Boomer waved Apollo over as he entered the Officers Lounge. "You missed a
good one, my man," he commented. "But I suppose Starbuck's already told you
about it."

Apollo frowned. "No. I haven't seen Starbuck. Actually, I was hoping he'd
be here."

Boomer said, "Well, maybe he's in Life Center. He said he wrenched his
shoulder. It was funny, though, thinking about it, he didn't seem like he
was hurt until . . ."

"Until what?" prompted Apollo.

"Hmm, until I slapped him on the shoulder - congratulating him for rescuing
me from a pinwheel," Boomer replied. "Then he pulled away and went pale.
Said he'd hurt his shoulder and was going to Life Center."

Apollo thought of Starbuck flinching away from him in the viper bay and the
fear in his eyes. "Was he acting okay otherwise?"

"Well, maybe a little quiet, sort of anxious to get away," Boomer replied
thoughtfully. "You don't think he was badly hurt, do you?"

"I don't know, Boomer." Apollo rose apologetically. "I hope you don't mind
my leaving like this, but I'm going to check Life Center to find out."

"Sure, no problem," Boomer said. As Apollo walked away, Boomer called after
him, "Hey, Apollo, if there's anything I can help with - you know you can
count on me."

"Thanks, Boomer, I'll let you know what I find out."

***

The object under discussion was not in Life Center, but just leaving his
Commander's office. Hearing that the entire Council would be "in
conference" on the Rising Star for then next secton, Starbuck had decided
that the best thing for him would be to disappear. He faked a message from
Chameleon asking his help in matching orphans with families on the Orphan
Barge. This he presented to Adama with a request to resign his commission.
Adama did not refuse him, although he sensed Starbuck was not being
completely honest with him, but he did ask Starbuck to think things through
for a few cycles before making a final decision.

Starbuck didn't see any alternatives. If he disappeared, his friends would
not have to know his shameful secret. If he stayed, he would either have to
come clean with Apollo, at the least, or obey Kale's order to end his
friendship and continue to service Kale. He might never see Apollo again
this way, but at least he could still follow his actions and those of his
other friends, and they would not be ashamed at having ever made the
mistake of calling him 'friend'. And he would also no longer be under
Kale's control. No there was no choice. And he had to act now, before Kale
returned to the Galactica.

***

"Hey Cassi." Apollo smiled at the blonde medical technician. "Is Starbuck
here?"

Cassiopeia turned to face Apollo. "No, he isn't. In fact, I haven't seen
Starbuck in the last couple of cycles." Noticing Apollo's frown, Cassiopeia
placed the chart she was holding back on the desk and walked over to the
Captain. "Why, is it important?"

"It's just that he told Boomer he'd hurt his shoulder and that he was
coming here."

The blonde shrugged. "He probably realised that it wasn't as hurt as he
thought it was. You know what Starbuck's like, he hates coming in here
unless it's life threatening. You know what it's like trying to get him to
come in for a simple check-up. It's like trying to take mushies from a
daggit," Cassiopeia smiled.

"I guess. Oh well, I'll see him in the briefing in another 30 centons.
Thanks, Cass." Apollo returned Cassiopeia's smile before turning and
leaving the Life Centre.

***

"Dismissed," Adama nodded to the warriors in his office, as he concluded
the briefing.

"Commander, before everyone goes I'd like to say something." The people
around the room looked at Starbuck with varying ranges of curiosity.

"Is it important, Lieutenant?"

"Yes."

"Very well," nodded Adama, replacing the memo he was holding on the desk
and giving Starbuck his full attention.

Apollo say the look of resignation cross his father's face as he looked at
Starbuck, and a feeling of dread washed over him.

Starbuck took a deep breath. "Six centars ago I contacted Chameleon over
the Fleet intercom. His reply to the message I sent arrived about a centar
ago." Starbuck paused.

"Starbuck, what are you trying to say?" Tigh asked.

Starbuck sighed before he stood up and carefully removed the Colonial pin
from the collar of his uniform. "I wish to resign my commission as a
Colonial Warrior." There were gasps of surprise around the room.

"Why?" Apollo asked, shocked.

'For my life, for my sanity... for my soul.' "For private reasons,"
Starbuck answered. "I'm going to join Chameleon in attempting to reunite
some of the orphans from the colonies with their families."

"Starbuck, have you thought this though properly?" Adama asked calmly.

"Yes," nodded Starbuck, "and I'm leaving on the first available shuttle."
Starbuck looked down at gold pin lying on the desk in front of him. "I just
wanted you to know that it's been a pleasure working with you." Starbuck
began to walk to the door.

"Starbuck," Sheba said at the same time as Jolly. Starbuck ignored them.

"Lieutenant!" Tigh commanded.

Slowly Starbuck turned and looked the colonel in the eyes. "Not any more,
sir." Turning, he calmly walked out the door, leaving a room of shocked
faces behind him.

Apollo slowly turned to face Adama. The Commander was the only one there
who didn't look shocked. "You knew, didn't you?"

Adama glanced down at Starbuck's pin briefly, before meeting his son's
eyes. "Starbuck came to me some centars ago and informed me of his plans. I
told him to go and think it through."

"You can't let him do this!" Apollo banged his hand down on the desk.

Adama stood up, meeting his son's angry glare. "I can't stop him. He's a
grown man, Apollo."

Apollo turned away, not trusting himself to keep his temper. Clenching his
hands into fists, he strode out of the office, intent on finding Starbuck.

***

Pulling a bag out from under the bed, Starbuck started to throw clothes
into it. Even though he knew Kale wouldn't be back for another few cycles,
he wanted to be off the Galactica as soon as possible. Looking around the
room, he tried to decide what else to take with him. Walking over to a
table, he picked up a small cuddly daggit that Aurora had given him when
they had first started to see each other. Throwing it into the bag,
Starbuck turned back, his eyes drawn to the small, framed image standing on
the table. Picking up the image, Starbuck slowly walked back over to the
bed, never once taking his eyes off the image. He stared at the faces of
the four smiling cadets; the image taken on the day of their graduation
from Caprica Academy. He could remember it as though it were only centons
ago, instead of yahrens. Boomer and Jolly were crouched in front of him and
Apollo, all grinning as Apollo's mother took the image. He recalled why he
was smiling so widely; it was the day he escaped from Kale. Once he
graduated, Kale couldn't touch him. Starbuck's smile faded as he continued
to look at the image. He and Apollo were standing with their arms around
each other's shoulders, looking like the close friends that they were. With
slightly trembling hands, Starbuck brushed his fingers down the image of
Apollo's face. The pilot was so lost in his memories that he didn't realise
someone else was in the room with him until his name was spoken.

"Starbuck."

Dropping the image, Starbuck jerked his head up, his gaze meeting sharp
green eyes, sparkling with a mixture of anger and sadness. "How did you get
in?" Starbuck asked.

Apollo dropped his gaze briefly. "The door was unlocked."

'Frak!' Starbuck thought. In his haste to start packing, he must have
forgotten to lock the door.

"Will you explain to me just what you thought you were doing by
*resigning*?" Apollo asked, his eyes blazing.

"I think a better question would be what *you* thought you were doing
asking all those questions about my past?" Starbuck replied, his voice
soft.

"What?"

"I know you've been looking into my past, Apollo."

Apollo's eyes widened in sudden comprehension. "*That's* why you're doing
this." Walking over to the bed, Apollo grabbed Starbuck's wrist, stopping
the other man from placing anything else in the bag on the bed. "What are
you trying to hide? What's so important that you'll give up everything in
order to keep it hidden? And what does it have to do with Sire Kale?"

Starbuck's gaze fell to the image that was lying on top of the bag. "I
don't know what you're talking about. Chameleon asked for my help, and I'm
going to give it to him."

"Don't lie to me, Starbuck, I've known you too long."

"I'm not lying."

Apollo's hand captured Starbuck's chin, and turned his head until their
eyes met. "Then why won't you look at me?"

"I..." Starbuck's voice trailed off.

"What in Sagan's name is going on, Starbuck?" Apollo's voice was barely a
whisper.

"*Please* Apollo, I'm asking you to drop it."

"I can't," replied the captain. "You're my friend and you're in pain. Let
me help."

"You can't," Starbuck admitted quietly. "No one can."

"At least let me try." Apollo closed his eyes briefly, and took a deep
breath. "Starbuck," he said softly, moving his hand to cup Starbuck's
cheek. "Don't leave."

Starbuck leaned into the touch, before consciously pulling himself away. "I
don't have a choice."

"Yes, you do. There's *always* a choice," Apollo assured him.

"Not this time," whispered Starbuck. "I *have* to leave."

"But *I* don't want you to." Slowly, Apollo leant forward and captured
Starbuck's lips with his own. Softly, the captain teased Starbuck's lips
open, and coaxed his tongue into responding to the kiss.

Starbuck's head swam as Apollo's tongue invaded his mouth. His friend
tasted of silk, spices, and something that Starbuck couldn't identify,
until, with a jolt of arousal, Starbuck realised that what he was tasting
was *Apollo* himself. With a choked sob, Starbuck broke the kiss, staring
into Apollo's passion glazed eyes. "We can't." The words were barely
audible.

Apollo's thumb softly caressed Starbuck's cheek, gently brushing away the
tear that ran down it. "Starbuck, *please*. I... I love you."

With those words, Starbuck's soul shattered. Apollo *couldn't* love him.
Apollo deserved someone worthy, someone of value, someone *pure*. "Then let
me go."

"I *can't*," Apollo said, desperation colouring his tone.

"You *have* to." Pulling away, Starbuck quickly closed the bag on the bed
and picked it up. "My shuttle'll be waiting," he said, ignoring the
trembling running through him. Reaching to the door, Starbuck stopped and
quickly looked back at Apollo. 'I love you too,' he thought, but the words
never reached his mouth.

Apollo watched in silence as the door closed behind Starbuck, leaving him
alone. It was long centons before the captain realised the salt taste in
his mouth was his own tears.

***

He barely made the shuttle, sliding in between the closing rear doors just
in time. It was mostly empty, which was fine with him. He sat near the door
he had entered by, as far from the pilots as possible, lest one of them
recognize him. Finally, turning and leaning his head against the bulkhead,
Starbuck let himself mourn. He was losing everything that made life worth
living: piloting a viper, being with friends so close they felt like he
thought family must feel, and now, now when it was too late, the one thing
he thought he'd never have - Apollo's love. Silently he cried, body still,
face closed and showing no emotion, only his tears betrayed his torn soul.

Wrapped in his own misery, Starbuck never noticed the older man who sat at
right angles to him halfway down the shuttle. The man had looked up when
Starbuck entered, halting the noise of the closing doors, then took a
double-take. Now, in case Starbuck looked around, he turned away toward the
front of the shuttle and pulled his jacket collar up.

The shuttle's next to last stop, just before the agro ships, was the Orphan
Barge. Starbuck's watcher noticed Starbuck shake himself and rise to leave.
His eyes widened in surprise and he busied himself with his packages, head
averted until Starbuck exited. Then he quickly gathered his things and
followed at a distance. He was no trained tracker, but Starbuck was too
focused on his own plight to notice someone following.

When Starbuck stopped at the temporary quarters he had reserved before
Apollo came in, his shadow pulled back into a doorway, noting the section
and door number. He waited for Starbuck to enter, then left for the comm
center at a pace just short of a run.

Starbuck sat on the narrow cot in the spartan room. 'Might as well make my
lie true,' he decided, and reached for the unicomm to call Chameleon.

***

"I need to send an emergency comm," Starbuck's follower announced, entering
the comm center with an air of authority.

"Of course, Director," the clerk on duty replied. She pressed some buttons
on her console. "Use the comm unit over there, sir."

"Director Larby to Sire Kale. Emergency priority. Goods have unexpectedly
arrived locally. Contact me at my private code to arrange pick-up." He sent
the message, thanked the clerk, then hurried to his office, thinking of how
much this information would be worth to Kale.

***

Kale strode into Larby's office without knocking. "Well?" he demanded.

Larby smiled from behind his desk and gestured at the chair in front of it.
Kale ignored him, slapping his gloves in his palm. Larby's smile dimmed a
bit and he cleared his throat. "Starbuck is here."

"I gathered that," Kale all but snarled.

"Rumor has it he resigned his commission and left the Galactica in a great
hurry."

At that Kale raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Where is he now?"

"In his lodging."

"And that would be?" Kale was in no mood to play games.

"Oh, Sire Kale, I believe we need to negotiate a bit, as in the old days,"
Larby said through a smirk.

Kale pulled his gloves back on. "Negotiate about what?" he asked blandly.

Larby leaned back in his chair. "Oh, about how much certain information,
like a lodging code, is worth to you? And perhaps we should revisit our
discussion on what would happen if your history with young Starbuck became
public." He closed his eyes, never noticing the feral look in Kale's.

Kale was behind him and had him in a choke hold almost instantly. "Where is
his lodging and what's the passcode," he hissed into Larby's ear.

"Sire! Please, it was only a joke," Larby babbled, panicked. "A very small
joke." He got no response but the arm around his neck tightened slightly.
Larby coughed delicately. "Sire, you're hurting me." No response at all.
Larby sighed at what he saw as melodramatics. "Very well, then. Temporary
quarters level 9, quadrant 18, room 12. Passcode is delta phi tau."

"Thank you, Director, you've been very helpful," Kale purred, loosening his
hold. Larby took a deep breath and prepared to respond. He never got the
chance. Kale crooked his arm abruptly, his hand touching his shoulder, and
Larby's neck snapped. Kale shook the corpse away from him. "But I think our
relationship is at an end."

***

Starbuck sighed. He'd commed Chameleon's quarters, but the older man wasn't
there. He left a message explaining that he was on the Orphan Barge, and
for Chameleon to get in contact with him as soon as he returned. After
getting a couple of centars' sleep, Starbuck headed into the bathroom, and
splashed some water on his face. He looked into the mirror and grimaced. He
felt unusual seeing himself in black, instead of the tan of his uniform.
"Better get used to it," he said to his reflection, "because you'll never
be wearing that uniform again." Walking back into the bedroom, Starbuck
stopped, all the colour draining from his face.

"You look surprised to see me," Kale said, from his position on the bed.

"H... how did-"

Kale waved his hand at Starbuck. "That isn't important. Don't you know you
can't run from me?" Kale stood up and stalked over to Starbuck. Wrapping
his hand around Starbuck's neck, Kale squeezed slightly. "You're *mine*,
Starbuck. *Never* forget that."

"No." Starbuck started to struggle, warrior instincts kicking in as he
kicked out.

Kale saw the kick coming and managed to twist out the way. "How *dare*
you," he snarled, lashing out, his fist connecting with Starbuck's cheek.

Starbuck's head jerked backwards, and he could feel the blood from his
split lip running into his mouth. As such, he wasn't prepared when Kale's
fist drove into his stomach. "I think it's time to teach you a lesson,"
growled Kale. "But not here. No, I have somewhere much more... suitable in
mind." With that, Kale brought his fist down on the back of Starbuck's
head. Light exploded behind Starbuck's eyes, before blessed darkness
finally claimed him, and he collapsed, unconscious, into Kale's waiting
arms.

***

Starbuck's head pounded as he gingerly opened his eyes. His body was
throbbing, and he felt nauseous. The chill running over his body told
Starbuck that he was naked. A small tear escaped and ran down into his
hair, when he realised that he was also tied spread-eagle to the hard, cold
surface beneath him. Groaning softly, he carefully moved his head. He was
in an office, tied to a large metal desk. He looked around the room, but he
didn't recognise where he was. His eyes stopped, as they fell on the
familiar figure of Kale, standing next to the desk.

"I see you're aware," Kale noted.

"Where..." The words caught in Starbuck's throat. "Where are we?"

"Somewhere we won't be disturbed."

Starbuck's eyes caught a figure slumped in a chair pushed against the wall.
Carefully focusing, he gagged as he met Director Larby's lifeless eyes.

Kale followed Starbuck's gaze and laughed. "Oh yes, I'd nearly forgotten
about him. I hope you don't mind having an audience. After all, we are in
his office. Not that he'll be able to do much, though. Although, from what
I understand, Larby's had quite enough amusement, thanks to the thriving
business he's had going aboard this Barge." Kale walked over to a closet in
the corner of the room. Opening it, he tapped a code into a small key pad
at the back of the closet.

Starbuck watched as the back panel fell away to reveal a hidden
compartment.

Taking out a black strap, Kale flexed it. "I hope you don't mind, but I
left our equipment over on the Galactica. I'm sure Larby won't mind us
borrowing his, will you, Larby?" Kale looked over at the body, smiling when
it remained silent. "Didn't think so." Kale's smile became feral as he
walked over to Starbuck. Sitting on the bed, he slowly ran the leather
strap up Starbuck's naked thigh.

An involuntary shiver ran through Starbuck as the leather wantonly caressed
his skin. As Kale turned to look at him, Starbuck felt a stab of fear hit
him. Kale's dark eyes had no emotion in them. Starbuck closed his eyes,
trying to escape from Kale's dead stare.

"Look at me!" Kale hissed, as he brought the strap down on Starbuck's
stomach.

Starbuck forced his eyes open.

Dropping the strap and straddling Starbuck's body, Kale held the younger
man's head in his hands. Leaning down, he brushed Starbuck's lips with a
feather-light kiss. "Know this, Starbuck," he whispered, "I have loved you
from the moment you were brought to me in Umbra." Kale paused. "A boy who
knew how to offer himself properly, and how to serve. How things have
changed." Kale shook his head sadly. "It was my mistake, really. I should
never have sponsored you into Caprica Academy. I thought it was for the
best, but now I see I was wrong. You had such potential, Starbuck, but you
threw it away. You can't see what it truly means to be mine, so I'm going
to have to re-educate you. I don't want to hurt you, Starbuck, but I
promise to show you the true meaning of what it is to disobey me." Kale
raised the strap and began, accompanied by Starbuck's helpless screams.

***

When Kale came back to himself, he was covered with blood. Starbuck lay,
eyes rolled back in his head, the skin flayed from his chest and abdomen.
Exposed muscles heaved as each breath shot agony through him, pulling at
torn tendons and ligaments. He writhed in pain even unconscious.

Watching him, Kale felt himself grow hard. Gently he stroked Starbuck's
cheek with his blood soaked gloved hand. "Poor beautiful boy. You could
have prevented this, you know." He sighed. "But now I'll show you how much
I love you." Oblivious to the fact that he was dislocating the tied-down
shoulders and hips, Kale turned Starbuck over. The new pain from his limbs
along with the pressure on his flayed front, brought consciousness and
Starbuck tried to scream, but his voice was gone and all that came out was
a harsh groan.

Kale mounted Starbuck and pushed his organ in with no thought of
preparation. When his thrusts brought no response from Starbuck, Kale began
flailing at his back. As Starbuck arched in response to the new pain, Kale
thrust violently. Beyond awareness, Kale didn't notice when Starbuck's
motions weakened, slowed, and stopped. It wasn't until after he recovered
from orgasm, that he realized Starbuck was limp - even his rectal sphincter
was unresponsive, remaining open after he pulled out.

Reality snapped back into place for Kale. Looking at the blood soaked desk
and the body on it, then over at the corpse, his mind began functioning
again. Quickly, he discarded his gloves, and approached Larby's corpse.
With difficulty, he removed Larby's garments from his body and replace them
with his own bloody ones, then pushed the body in the chair back to the
desk. Pulling the gloves back on, he ripped Starbuck's arms free,
disregarding the snapping noise from the warrior's wrists, and twisted the
two bodies so that Starbuck lay half on Larby with his hands about the old
man's throat. Satisfied with his work, he threw the gloves on the floor
next to Larby and donned the director's clothes. He pulled the office door
closed with his shoe as he left.

***

Chameleon stood outside Director Larby's office. The secretary had told him
that the Director *was* in there, but there was no answer to his knocks.
He'd found Starbuck's message waiting for him 3 centars ago, when he'd
returned to his quarters. After trying several times to contact Starbuck,
he eventually decided to go and see Larby. The director could tell him
which quarters his son was staying in. Chameleon sighed, there was
obviously no one in the office. The Director must have left without his
secretary seeing him. Chameleon was just about to turn away from the door
when he heard a noise come from the office. Pressing his ear against the
door, Chameleon listened carefully until he heard another moan. Rushing
back through to where the Director's secretary was, he motioned for the
young man to follow him. "I think there may be something wrong with
Director Larby."

Larby's secretary, Mica, followed Chameleon through to the Director's
office. Mica knocked on the door. "Director Larby? Are you all right, sir?"
A slight whimpering sound was the only answer. Mica quickly tapped in the
override code to the lock, and opened the office door.

A cry was wrenched from Chameleon's throat as he saw the scene in the
office. Stepping into the room, Chameleon felt physically sick when he saw
Starbuck. His son was lying with his hands around the Director's throat.
Larby was obviously dead, and Starbuck's body was covered in dried and
drying blood, as well as other things he didn't want to identify. No part
of Starbuck's body was unmarked. Unbidden, Chameleon's mind recognised some
of the scents that pervaded the room: blood, sweat, semen. Chameleon walked
forward as though he were on auto-pilot. Reaching out with a shaking hand,
he gently brushed a lock of blood matted hair away from Starbuck's face.
"Oh, Starbuck," Chameleon whispered, tears running down his face. "My
child." He was shaken out of his grief by the tiny movements of Starbuck's
chest. Still shaking, Chameleon turned to Mica. "Get a doctor down here,
Starbuck's still alive," he commanded.

Mica was in no condition to hear the command, his stomach having finally
rebelled and being emptied in the corner.

"Frak!" Chameleon swore, leaning over Starbuck's prostrate body to hit the
comm unit on Larby's desk. "Get to the Director's office," he yelled when
he was patched through to the Life Centre. "It's an emergency."

***

Dr. Valin looked at the tableau in the office with shock. Since being the
doctor on the Orphan Barge the worst injury he was used to was a scraped
knee, or the odd appendicitis. He'd never had to deal with anything like
this. Even worse, he knew the Life Centre on the ship wasn't equipped to
deal with it either. His medical training quickly taking over, he turned to
one of the medical technicians with him. "Contact Dr Salik over on the
Galactica," he said, "Tell him what's happened and that I'm going to need
him over here as soon as possible."

***

"OUT OF THE WAY! COMING THROUGH!"

Apollo flattened himself against the wall to allow the medical technicians
to get past as quickly as possible. Dr. Salik was running down the corridor
towards the shuttle bay, with Cassiopeia behind him. "Cassi!" Apollo yelled
after the blonde. "What's going on?"

"We're not sure. We just got a call through, there's an emergency on the
Orphan Barge that they're not equipped to handle," replied Cassiopeia.

'The Orphan Barge?' A feeling of dread rose up in Apollo. 'Oh, Sagan,
Starbuck!' Without hesitation, Apollo ran after Salik and Cassiopeia,
catching them on the lift just as it was about to descend to the shuttle
bay.

"Apollo?" Cassi looked at him, questions in her eyes. "What are you doing?"

The Captain turned to face her. "I don't know why, but I've got an awful
feeling," Apollo paused. "Cassi, Starbuck's on the Orphan Barge," he
explained.

"Oh Sagan," muttered Cassiopeia, as the lift arrived at the launch bay with
a jolt. "You don't think..." She trailed off, unable to voice the fears
that were now with her, too.

"I don't know," admitted Apollo, helping the technicians to carry the
equipment to the shuttle. "But I'm coming with you to find out."

***

Apollo stepped off the shuttle to find a security guard waiting for them.

"I'm here to help you to the Life Centre," the guard explained as Salik
thrust some medical equipment into his arms.

"Why a security guard? You aren't assigned to the Orphan Barge normally,"
pointed out Apollo, as the group made their way swiftly out of the shuttle
bay.

"No, but this is a murder as well," came the reply.

"A murder?" Cassiopeia looked at the guard briefly.

"Yes, the guy you've been called here for killed someone. Seems like a
bondage game got out of hand, if you know what I mean."

The four of them turned the corner, and all of Apollo's fears came crashing
down on him as he saw Chameleon waiting outside the Life Centre, tear
tracks down his cheeks and clothes covered in blood. Apollo stopped in
front of the older man. "Chameleon?" Chameleon raised his head and stared
at Apollo. The things Apollo was carrying were taken out of his arms, but
he ignored it, his full attention on the man in front of him. "Chameleon,
what happened?"

Chameleon shook his head and slumped against the wall.

Resisting the urge to shake the information out of the older man, Apollo
turned to the still open door of the Life Centre. He could see Salik, Cassi
and two others working on someone. The second doctor moved and bile rose in
Apollo's throat. The skin had literally been flayed from the man's body.
Then Cassi moved and iciness descended on Apollo as he saw the upper half
of the patient. The blond hair was matted with blood and other fluids, and
the face was almost beaten beyond recognition. Even so, Apollo still knew
who it was, could still identify the man whom the four medical personnel
were working so diligently to save. "By the Lords of Kobol, Starbuck," he
whispered, "who did this to you?"

***

It was long centars before Salik finally came out of the Life Centre.

Apollo was on his feet instantly. "How is he?"

Salik sighed, looking at both Apollo and Chameleon. "I won't lie to you,
it's not good."

"Is he going to be all right?" Chameleon asked.

"I don't know," admitted Salik. "We've managed to stabilise him for now,
but we need to get him back to the Galactica. They don't have the equipment
we need here, and we couldn't bring it with us. If Starbuck is going to
stand any chance of survival, we *have* to get him to the Life Centre on
the Galactica."

Chameleon looked into Salik's eyes, knowing instantly that there was more
than the doctor was saying. "What aren't you telling us?"

Salik pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "He's
in a bad way. A *very* bad way. It's a miracle he's still alive."

"And?" Apollo prompted.

"And, the fact of the matter is, I just don't know if he'll survive the
trip to the Galactica," Salik admitted.

"Of course he'll survive it," said Chameleon with a shaky smile. "He's my
son. Why his great-grandfather once survived two cycles on an ice planet
with nothing but a tent, so a little thing like being taken to the
Galactica isn't going to kill him. He's made of stronger stuff than that."
Chameleon wrapped his arms around himself. "He has to be."

Apollo turned to Chameleon. "Chameleon, I need to get back to the
Galactica. The Council has called a meeting about what happened here, and I
want to be there. I'll come back as soon as it's over. Will you be okay
until then?"

Chameleon nodded. "Go, Apollo," he said quietly. "See what they're saying
about my son." Turning away from the younger man, Chameleon walked over to
the door of the Life Centre and looked in through the small window.

Apollo could see the older man's lips moving, closing his eyes briefly when
he realised Chameleon was praying. Grabbing Salik's arm before the doctor
had a chance to go back to the Life Centre, Apollo led him a small way down
the corridor; away from where Chameleon could hear them. "Tell me the
truth, Dr Salik. *Is* Starbuck going to survive?"

Salik glanced at Chameleon, before turned back to Apollo. "I honestly don't
know, Apollo. His injuries were extremely severe. I... I'd say his chances
aren't good, Apollo. I'm sorry, I know what he means to you."

'No, you don't,' thought Apollo. 'How could you, when I only just realised
it myself?' With a last glance to the Life Centre, Apollo started to walk
back to the shuttle bay, his soul screaming.

***

"I can't understand what was going on there," Sire Uri said, looking
distinctly green after listening to the security officer's detailed report.
"Larby was director of an orphanage on Caprica and has done admirable work
on the Orphan Barge. And I've known Starbuck for yahrens. Wild, yes. But
I'd never have suspected either of them of that sort of - of - perversion."

'No,' thought Apollo, 'only the perversions you indulge in are acceptable.'
Out loud he replied, "I've known Starbuck much better and for much longer.
I can't conceive of him voluntarily getting involved in sado-masochism like
this."

"Perhaps I can shed some light on this issue," Sire Kale interjected
smoothly.

"By all means, Sire," Uri urged.

"Hmm. Well, this is somewhat embarrassing, but," Sire Kale pretended
hesitancy. "Going back, oh, 15 yahrens, I first met Director Larby on a
Council-related business visit to Umbra, where his orphanage was. He noted
that I would be staying for several diurnal cycles and asked whether I
wanted entertainment. Not understanding what he meant by the word," Kale
laughed self-consciously, "I said that in fact I would have some empty
centars." He looked down at the table. "Well, to make a long story short,
Larby was involved in a little side business - he 'rented' his orphans to
tourists and wealthy residents of Umbra." Another, presumably embarrassed
pause. "That's how I met Starbuck. I understood immediately upon being
presented with him what was going on, but I played along. I took Starbuck
back to my rooms and told him I was going to expose Larby to the
authorities. Starbuck was terrified. He feared he, and the other orphans,
would be killed before the slow-moving wheels of justice could act. He
convinced me he was right." Kale shook his head in regret. "So, I did
nothing to stop the situation. Instead, whenever I visited Umbra, I took
Starbuck for the length of my visit. I know I should have done more, but
..." . Kale looked around the room and saw he had his listeners'
sympathies. "Anyway, when he was of age I sponsored Starbuck into the
Academy at Caprica. It was the only way I could be sure he wouldn't spend
the rest of his life as a prostitute in the bath houses of Umbra."

"And you think Larby tried to lure Starbuck back into his clutches?" Adama
asked skeptically.

"Larby had 'trained' Starbuck. Starbuck, even as an Academy cadet, had an
unreasonable, almost psychotic fear of him. I'm afraid that is exactly what
happened." Kale shook his head and looked down again. "There's no way of
knowing how long that - relationship - went on. But it seems to me quite
likely that Starbuck snapped during this last session, realizing that Larby
was out of control and was not going to stop short of killing him. I'm sure
he only struck back out of self-defense. A last ditch effort to save his
own life."

"Why didn't he come to me, or one of his friends?" Adama asked.

Kale shrugged. "A combination of pride and shame, I would guess. I take it
none of you knew about his childhood experiences?" Adama and Apollo both
shook their heads. Kale sighed sadly. "He was probably ashamed to tell
*you*, but he could have come to me. I already knew. I wish he had." Kale
addressed Apollo. "How is he doing?"

"Salik doesn't hold out much hope. He'd lost so much blood by the time he
was found, it's a wonder he was still alive." Apollo answered, almost
absently. Something didn't ring true about Kale's story. Why would Starbuck
move *to* the Orphan Barge if his tormentor were there? And why would he
react so negatively to Kale if Kale had rescued him from Larby all those
yahrens ago? "Chameleon's waiting for me on the Orphan Barge to help him
collect Starbuck's things. It's just too hard for him to do himself. If you
will excuse me Father? Councilors?" He left to murmurs of "yes, of course"
and "give our sympathies and condolences to Chameleon".

***

It wasn't Chameleon who needed his help, but Apollo who needed Chameleon's.
With Chameleon's dubious talents, Apollo quickly found himself inside
Larby's locked office. While Chameleon unlocked closets, cabinets, and
drawers, Apollo righted the computer that had been knocked to the floor
near Larby's desk. Once he reconnected everything, he realized someone had
tried to wipe the hard disk clean. Larby was dead, and would have had no
reason to wipe his hard disk before his final attack on Starbuck - alleged
attack, Apollo reminded himself. Starbuck was in no condition to do so -
besides there was no blood on the touchpad, Apollo thought clinically.
Someone else must have tried to destroy the files. But whoever did it
either wasn't very expert or was in a hurry. He could see remnants of the
files himself. An expert could almost certainly reconstruct the contents of
the disk. And he knew just such an expert.

Connecting the comm system, Apollo commed Boomer. Pacing around the room,
the centons seemed to stretch into yahrens, until the other warrior
eventually returned the comm.

"What is it, Apollo?" Boomer asked, his concern evident, even over the comm
system.

"Come to the Orphan Barge. I need your help," Apollo replied succinctly.

"There's a shuttle for the Rising Star due to leave in a few centons. I'll
get them to take a detour and drop me off."

Apollo nodded. "I'll explain when you get here," he said, shutting off the
link.

"Do you really think Boomer can help?" Chameleon asked, laying a hand on
Apollo's shoulder.

Apollo nodded. "I've never seen anyone as good with computers as Boomer is.
If there's something there to find, he'll find it."

***

Boomer stepped off the shuttle to find Apollo waiting for him in the launch
bay. "Apollo, what's going on?"

Apollo grabbed Boomer's arm and quickly led him out into the corridor.
"Come on, Chameleon's waiting for us."

"Chameleon? What's he doing still over here? I thought he would have caught
the earliest shuttle to the Galactica," Boomer commented.

"I asked him to wait," answered Apollo. "I needed his help to get into
Larby's office."

"Larby's office? Apollo, what's going on?"

As the two warriors made their way down the corridor, Apollo quickly
explained his suspicions about the computer in the office. "Boomer,
Starbuck *couldn't* have wiped that computer. He wouldn't have been able
to, not the condition he was in."

They eventually stoped outside the office. Apollo quickly checked that no
one else was in sight before he knocked on the door. "Chameleon, it's us."
The door opened and the two of them went inside.

Boomer went straight to Chameleon. "Apollo told me about his suspicions. I
think he's right."

Chameleon smiled at him. "I'm glad, Now, tell me you can help to clear my
boy."

"I'll do my best." Boomer walked over to the desk and sat down at it. He
typed something in, and sighed a few moments later. "I can recover some of
the files," he said, looking at the two men watching him intently. "But,
not all of them, and it's going to take some time."

Apollo nodded, turning to Chameleon. "Why don't you go over to the
Galactica. We'll be okay here."

"I will," replied Chameleon. "Come and tell me what you find."

"Hold on," said Boomer, looking up from the computer, "won't we need you to
lock the door behind us when we leave?"

"No need," answered Chameleon. "It's an automatic locking system. The door
locks as soon as it closes."

Apollo walked over to the older man. "Thanks Chameleon," he said, embracing
him. "When you see Starbuck, tell him we know he didn't do it, and I'll
clear his name if I have to go to the Cylons to do it."

"He's lucky to have someone like you to love him," Chameleon said quietly.

Apollo stared at him in shock. "How..."

"I saw the way you looked when you discovered it was Starbuck in the Life
Centre. He's going to need someone like you to help him pull through this."

"After all that's happened, I don't know if he'll even be able to consider
loving another man." Apollo wrapped his arms around himself as a shiver ran
through him.

Chameleon reached out and cupped Apollo's cheek. "Starbuck isn't the only
one who has been injured by this."

"No, but he's the one who might die because of it."

Chameleon closed his eyes as his pain at Apollo's words ran over his face.
"I should be going," said Chameleon eventually, after he opened his eyes.

Apollo nodded. "Tell him I love him," the Captain whispered.

Chameleon smiled shakily. "Inform me as soon as you find anything."

"We will," replied Apollo, as he watched Chameleon leave the office.

***

It was two centars before Boomer finally looked up from the computer. "I've
recovered everything I can," he said.

"Well?" Apollo looked at his friend expectantly.

"It's just what you'd expect to find. The orphans records, a list of people
who work here. The only thing I found that might be of interest in a
personal journal."

Apollo's ears pricked up. "A journal?" He went to stand behind Boomer,
placing his hands on the other warriors shoulder. "What does it say?"

"You've got me, it's password protected."

"Frak," muttered Apollo. "Can you download it? We can take it back to the
Galactica and see if the computers over there can get into it."

Boomer opened one of the desk drawers and rifled through it for a few
microns until he found a disk. Sliding it into the computer, he started to
save the journal on to it. Less than a centon later, the process was
complete. Boomer ejected the disk from the computer and handed it to
Apollo.

"Come on," said Apollo, placing the disk in his pocket. "I don't want to
have to stay here a micron longer than we need to."

***

Apollo rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he drank his fourth cup of caff.
He'd had the computer trying to break the password to Larby's journal since
he and Boomer returned to the Galactica, but nothing had worked. He was
just about to go to down to the Life Centre to see how Starbuck was when
the computer beeped. "YES!" He grinned, as he realised that the computer
had finally broken into the journal. Sitting down at the desk, he started
to read.

***

5 centars later Apollo still hadn't found anything that could clear
Starbuck of Larby's murder, and he wasn't even a fifth of the way through
the journal. He'd asked Sheba to take his early patrol so that he could
stay aboard the Galactica and continue to look through the journal. She'd
assumed it was so he could stay with Starbuck, and he hadn't corrected her.
But after all those centars with nothing to show for it Apollo's hopes were
starting to sink. Although Kale was mentioned, Larby didn't say anything
about why Starbuck would be so afraid of him. All the journal detailed was
meetings between Larby and various other people. Apollo stood up and
started to walk around the room, stretching his arms out. Suddenly, he
stopped. "Wait a centon," he said to himself, going back over to the
computer. "There was something in the description of one of those
meetings." He quickly flicked back through the journal, until he found the
passage he was looking for.

{The look on Gaven's face as I told him it wasn't possible was priceless. I
should make an image of it and frame it.}

'There's something about those words that doesn't make sense,' Apollo
thought, as he read over them again. "Of course," he said out loud. Hitting
the comm button on his desk, he contacted Boomer. "Boomer, I think I've
found something."

"I'll be right there," came the reply.

A few centons later, Boomer was standing in Apollo's quarters. "Well?" The
darker warrior asked. "What did you find?"

"Read that," Apollo replied, pointing to the computer.

Boomer looked at the monitor and quickly read the words there. "So?"

"Larby says he should make an image of this guy Gaven's face. Not 'wishes
he could', *should*," Apollo said, his eyes shining.

Boomer looked at him as realisation swept over him. "But that would mean
that he already has something to take the image off."

"Exactly," smiled Apollo. "And I found this while I was waiting for you to
get here." Apollo walked back over to the computer and scrolled down to
another marked passage, and started to read. "'Keelan wouldn't dare carry
out his threat. Not when he knows I could destroy his career by sending a
copy of our meeting to the Council.'" Apollo spun to face Boomer. "Larby's
been recording his meetings. There's an image recorder somewhere in his
office."

"And the last thing on it should be the attack on Starbuck," concluded
Boomer. "We have to get back to the Orphan Barge."

"We should go and see Wilker first," said Apollo, already heading out of
the door.

***

Dr Wilker looked up as the door to his workshop opened and two men walked
in. "Captain Apollo, Lieutenant Boomer. What can I do for you?"

"Do you have any devices that can detect image recorders?" Apollo asked.

Wilker frowned slightly. "What would you need something like that for?"

Apollo and Boomer glanced at each other. "It's important, Doctor," said
Boomer.

Apollo took a deep breath. "We think there may be an image recorder in
Director Larby's office over on the Orphan Barge. If there is, it could
have what happened to Starbuck on it." Apollo closed his eyes briefly,
hoping Wilker didn't ask any more questions. Exactly what had happened to
Starbuck hadn't been made common knowledge. All that most people knew was
that there had been an accident in which Starbuck had been severely injured
and Director Larby had been killed. The Council had immediately ordered
those involved not to talk about the attack, not wanting the truth about
what Larby had been doing with the orphans under his supervision to get
out.

Wilker looked at them for a long moment, before walking over to one of the
work tables and picking up a small black device. "Sweep this over any place
you think may hold a recorder. If there's one there, the light turns red,
if not it stays green." He handed the device over to Apollo.

"Thanks, Doctor," smiled the captain, as he and Boomer headed back out of
the workshop.

***

The two warriors made it to the shuttle bay just as a shuttle was boarding.
Apollo ran over to the pilot. "Where are you heading?"

"The Celestra," the pilot replied.

"I need you to stop at the Orphan Barge first."

The pilot glanced from Apollo to Boomer, noting the looks on their faces.
"All right," he agreed. "The Orphan Barge it is, then."

***

"How are we going to get in?" Boomer asked, staring in dismay at the locked
door to Larby's office.

"I haven't come this far just to turn back now," muttered Apollo, pulling
out his laser. Aiming the weapon at the door, Apollo fired. An arc of light
shot out of the laser and blew the lock off. "Problem solved," he grinned
at Boomer, re-holstering the laser.

Boomer opened the door and stepped into the office. "Okay, if you were
going to hide an image recorder, where would you put it?"

"Somewhere you could see the entire office from," replied Apollo. "Which
means it's going to be relatively high up."

"And if you're going to use it for blackmail, or protection *from*
blackmail, then you'd need to have it position so it could record the face
of whoever it was you were talking to." Boomer walked forward. "Which means
you want it behind *you* and facing *them*."

Apollo pulled the scanner out of his pocket and started to sweep it along
the back wall of the office. When he came to a large, framed image directly
behind Larby's chair, the small light turned red. "Boomer, we've got it."

Boomer immediately pulled the image off the wall. Behind it was a small
window revealing the lens of an image recorder. Pulling the chair over so
it was underneath the recorder, Boomer stood on it and removed the window.
Carefully taking out the black box, he handed it to Apollo and jumped off
the chair.

Apollo looked at the disk as though it was about to disappear out of his
hands.

"We need an image player," said Boomer. "We have to find out what's on that
disk."

Apollo looked up. "I think I saw one earlier when Chameleon and I were
going through this place." He walked over to a cabinet in the corner and
opened it, revealing an image player and a small screen.

Boomer connected the player up and glanced over at Apollo. "Let's see what
happened, then," he said quietly.

Apollo slipped the disk into the player. Almost immediately, a picture of
Larby sitting in his office, his back to the recorder, appeared on the
screen. On the recording, the door to the office opened and Sire Kale
walked in. "I *knew* he had something to do with this," muttered Apollo.

The two warriors watched as Larby proceeded to tell Kale that Starbuck was
on board the Orphan Barge. Neither Apollo nor Boomer spoke as the disk
revealed its secrets, watching, with growing fear as Larby threatened to
reveal Kale's history with Starbuck.

"What history?" Boomer asked.

"I don't know," replied Apollo. "But I've got a good idea."

On the image, Kale held Larby by his throat and demanded the passcode to
the quarters Starbuck was staying in. Larby gave in quickly, telling Kale
both where Starbuck was, and the passcode he needed to gain entry.

Boomer drew in a sharp breath as Kale suddenly snapped Larby's neck and
dropped the body.

"We've got it," whispered Apollo. "We've got the proof that Starbuck's
innocent." His hand reached out to stop the playback, but Boomer grabbed
his wrist.

"Apollo, that disk had been recording for some time. The attack on Starbuck
is most likely on it."

"I know," answered Apollo, closing his eyes tightly.

"We can't get Kale for what he did to Starbuck unless we have proof," said
Boomer.

"I don't want to see what he did," replied Apollo, his eyes still shut.

"We don't have to. All we need to do is see the first few microns and then
we can turn this thing off and take it to your father."

Apollo nodded quickly.

Boomer crouched next to the image player and forwarded the disk until he
saw the door to the office in the image open again. Standing up, he placed
a hand on Apollo's shoulder. "Apollo," he said softly.

Apollo opened his eyes and looked at the screen, watching as Kale walked
into the office with an unconscious Starbuck over his shoulder. Placing the
younger man gently on the floor, Kale swept everything off the desk, and
then lifted Starbuck back up to lie on the cleared space. Methodically,
Kale tied Starbuck spread-eagle to the desk. When he had finished, he
produced a knife and began to cut Starbuck's clothes away.

"Enough," said Apollo, abruptly switching off the recording. "We need to
take this to my father."

***

"Starbuck didn't kill Director Larby, Sire Kale did."

Adama looked in shock at Apollo and Boomer. "Do you have any proof to back
up this accusation?" He asked.

Apollo reached into his pocket and pulled out a disk, placing it in front
of his father. "It turns out Larby was in the habit of recording all his
meetings."

Adama picked up the disk. Slowly turning his chair around, he placed the
disk into the image player behind him. The Commander's eyes widened as he
watched as Kale calculatingly murdered Larby. "Is the attack on Starbuck
also on here?"

"Yes," answered Boomer.

Adama continued to watch, allowing the details of the attack to unfold.

Apollo's face drained of colour as he saw exactly what Kale had done to
Starbuck. "Oh Sagan," he murmured, feeling the nausea rise up in him.
Abruptly, he ran out of Adama's office and sagged against the wall of the
corridor. Pressing his hands over his ears he tried to block out the memory
of Starbuck's screams.

***

Adama turned to face Boomer, noting that the Lieutenant looked ill. Adama
didn't blame him, he was feeling exactly the same emotion after having
watched what Starbuck was subjected to. Pressing a button on his desk, he
contacted Sire Uri.

"Yes, Adama?" Uri asked, when his face appeared on the screen.

"I'm calling an emergency Council meeting," Adama stated, succinctly.

"Now?" Uri looked confused.

"Yes, now. I need you to contact the rest of the Council, except for Sire
Kale. *I'll* take care of him." Adama cut the connection to Sire Uri, and
contacted the security office.

The security officer snapped to attention when he realised it was Adama on
the other end of the link. "Yes, sir?"

"I want Sire Kale placed under *immediate* arrest and brought to the
Council chambers," commanded Adama.

"Sire Kale, sir?"

"Yes, Sire Kale. Now do it." Severing the link, Adama faced Boomer. "I take
it you would like to be there?"

"Oh, I wouldn't miss this for anything," replied Boomer. "But I don't know
how Apollo feels."

"Let's see, shall we?" Adama said, standing up and walking to the door.

***

Apollo looked up when he felt the hand on his shoulder.

"Sire Kale is being arrested and brought to the Council Chambers. He *will*
pay for what he did to Starbuck," said his father, his voice soft but firm.

"I want to be there," Apollo replied. "I want to see him when he realises
that we know what he did. I want to see him destroyed."

Adama eyes widened slightly at the vehemence in his son's voice. Reaching
out a hand, he helped Apollo to his feet and the three of them set off in
the direction of the Council Chambers.

***

"Will you tell us just what is going on, Adama?" Sire Uri asked, as Adama,
Apollo and Boomer walked into the Council Chambers.

Adama held up the disk for the rest of the Council to see. "We now have
proof that Starbuck did not kill Director Larby. That it was, in fact, Sire
Kale who carried out both the murder *and* the atrocious attack on
Starbuck."

"But... that's ridiculous," spluttered Uri. "Sire Kale is a fine,
upstanding man."

Adama planted his hands on the conference table and leaned forward. "Sire
Kale is a *murderer* who raped Starbuck and left him for dead," he said
angrily. "And I will see it to that he is punished to the full extent of
the law."

Anything else that would have been said was lost as a security guard came
bursting into the Chamber. "Commander," he panted, skidding to a halt next
to Adama. "We just... received word that Sire... Sire Kale attacked the
guards we sent for him. He had a hidden laser, he took them completely by
surprise."

"Are they all right?"

"No, sir. One of them was killed and the other has been taken to the Life
Centre," the guard replied.

"Where is Kale now?" Adama asked.

"We don't know," admitted the young man.

"He won't stay aboard the Galactica," commented Apollo. "So that means the
only place he could be heading is the launch bay." Apollo turned and ran
out of the Chambers, ignoring Adama's calls for him to wait. Heading down
the corridor, he jumped onto the lift and pushed the button, the sight of
Adama, Boomer and several security guards all running after him quickly
disappearing from his view.

***

Apollo drew his laser as he quietly stepped off the lift into the launch
bay. He saw the body of a technician slumped against the wall. Constantly
looking around, Apollo crouched down and felt for a pulse. It was weak and
thready, but it was there. "Hold on," he said softly. "Help's coming."
Standing up, he carefully walked to the edge of one of the shuttles and
peered around it. His anger rose as he saw Kale trying to open the door to
a shuttle. Stepping out from behind the shuttle, Apollo aimed his laser at
Kale. "Kale!" he shouted.

Kale spun around and saw Apollo holding a laser at him. "Captain Apollo,"
he nodded.

"Back away from the shuttle," demanded Apollo. "Security is coming to take
you into custody."

"I'm afraid I really can't allow that to happen, Captain."

"Back away, Kale! NOW!"

"And if I don't?" Kale asked.

"Then I will shoot you where you stand." Apollo's voice was steady.

"Shoot me? Why ever would you want to do that?" Kale sounded genuinely
curious.

Apollo consciously pushed down on the anger that threatened to overwhelm
him. "Because I will see you pay for what you did to Starbuck."

Kale tilted his head to the side slightly, appearing to consider Apollo's
words. After a micron a gleeful smile appeared on his face. "It would seem
that my Starbuck has a protector."

"He's not *your* Starbuck," snarled Apollo.

"He'll *always* be mine," pointed out Kale. "Unless that's what the problem
is. That he's mine and not yours. You want him, don't you? Yes, I can see
it in your eyes. Why, Captain, you should have come and seen me. I'm sure
we could have arranged something."

Apollo couldn't help himself as his fingers tightened fractionally on his
laser.

Kale noticed the movement. "You won't shoot me, Apollo," he said, his voice
soft and melodic. "You're not the kind of man who could kill someone in
cold blood. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself."

"You'd be surprised at what I've learned to live with," he replied, as he
carefully squeezed the trigger.

Suddenly, the noise of the lift distracted both men.

Apollo's eyes flicked over to the lift, where Adama, Boomer and a group of
security guards were stepping into the launch bay.

Kale saw Apollo's guard drop slightly at the distraction. Taking advantage
of the opportunity, he drew his laser.

"APOLLO!" Boomer yelled, pulling out his own laser as he saw Kale point his
weapon at the captain.

The whine of the lasers being fired in the launch bay was nearly deafening.
Heeding his friends warning, Apollo dropped and rolled, instantly re-aiming
and firing at Kale, as the shot from the other man went over his head.

Kale staggered back and dropped to the ground as he was hit by the shots
from five lasers.

Apollo watched as the laser slid from Kale's hand and clattered onto the
floor. Wordlessly, he walked over to the body. Crouching down, he closed
Kale's lifeless eyes. "He's not yours anymore, Kale," he whispered.

"Apollo!"

The captain looked up to see his father heading over to him.

"Apollo," Adama said when he'd reached his son, "Are you all right? Did
Kale hit you when he fired?"

Apollo shook his head. "No. It was close, but he missed."

"Kale?" Adama briefly glanced down at the corpse.

"Dead," replied Apollo succinctly.

Adama motioned two of the security team over. "Have *that* removed," he
said, waving a hand at the body.

Apollo looked up. "Kale attacked one of the shuttle techs," he said.

"We know. He's already been sent to the Life Centre. He should make a full
recovery," Adama told him. The Commander rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"We'll need to get back to the Chambers, the Council will want a full
briefing."

***

Apollo sank down into his bed. The Council briefing had gone on for centars
and he'd found himself falling asleep while Sire Uri was talking. As soon
as he'd been dismissed, he'd headed to the Life Centre to see how Starbuck
was doing. He'd barely set foot in the corridor when Dr. Salik had walked
out of the Life Centre and ordered him to go to his quarters and get some
sleep. Apollo had agreed only on the condition that Salik contact him as
soon as there was any change in Starbuck's condition. Worrying about the
person he loved more than anything, Apollo fell into an exhausted sleep.

***

"You sent for me, Doctor?" Apollo asked, entering the Life Centre.

"Yes, Captain, thanks for coming so quickly," Dr. Salik replied.

"It's Starbuck, isn't it?"

Salik sighed. "I'm afraid so -"

"He isn't dead, is he?" Apollo blurted out, panicked.

"No, not yet," Salik replied seriously. "As a matter of fact he's been
conscious for about two cycles now."

"I thought you were going to call me as soon -"

"The Lieutenant asked me to tell no one, almost as soon as he regained
consciousness." Salik cut him off. "But now . . ."

"But now?" Apollo prompted.

"He's completely passive. Since I agreed to his request not to notify
anyone of his consciousness and refused his request that his tubes and
monitors be disconnected, he hasn't said a word. He refuses to open his
eyes, although the instrumentation shows he's awake, and he refuses to take
food by mouth. I suspect, if he wasn't so passive, he'd pull the tubes out
of his arm." Salik paused. "Captain, your friend is committing slow
suicide. He's withdrawing completely. I have two alternatives: I can
stabilize him, continue force-feeding by tube, and ultimately relocate him
to the rehab ship where he'll be permanently restrained and cared for; or I
can let him have his way and remove the feeding tubes. Unless you can
convince him to live."

Apollo sighed. He didn't know what he could do that would make any
difference, but he had to try. He was glad that the decision whether to
force-feed Starbuck or let him die didn't reside with him. His father would
make that decision if Apollo couldn't persuade Starbuck to keep trying.
"When can I see him?"

"Right now if you like. He's awake." Salik gestured at a private bio-room.
Apollo nodded his thanks and walked over.

Opening the door without knocking, he saw his friend curled on his side
with his back against the door, through the lightweight med-gown, Apollo
could see the ridged scars where regeneration had failed. It was dim in the
room, only one lamp in a corner providing light. "Starbuck?" Apollo called
softly. No response. Apollo approached the bed and looked over. Starbuck's
eyes were closed, but his hands were knotted into fists in the bedclothes.
"Starbuck, Dr. Salik told me you were awake. Open your eyes." No response.
"Open your eyes, Lieutenant. That's an order."

Starbuck opened his eyes and rolled onto his back, wincing and biting back
a cry as his still-raw back touched the sheets. His response to Apollo's
order gave the Captain an idea. "Lieutenant, look at me." Starbuck complied
and Apollo fought down a gasp. The blue eyes looking at him were - empty.
As if the soul had fled and left a hollow body. Apollo swallowed hard.
Remembering that Starbuck's commission had been reinstated, Apollo tried
another tack. "Lieutenant, I am ordering you to cooperate with the doctors
in your rehabilitation and physical therapy. Is that clear?"

A whispered, "Yes, Captain," acknowledged the order.

"And you will obey?" This was killing Apollo, but he couldn't help Starbuck
any other way.

"Yes, Captain. I'll cooperate and - and try to recover."

"And you're not to try to arrange for your own death - understand?"

"Understood." Now a tear cursed down the thin, still face.

Apollo softened. "All right then. I've got a long-range patrol. I expect
you'll be sitting up by the time I get back. I'll look in on you then."

"Yes, sir." Another tear. When Apollo gripped his shoulder lightly and
left, Starbuck rolled back to his side with a sigh, and let the tears flow
freely.

****

"Come," Apollo called in response to the door signal.

Lieutenant Starbuck entered and stood at attention just inside the door.
When Apollo looked up, he said, "You sent for me, sir?" The hoarseness was
finally gone from his voice, but it was still flat, lifeless, eerily
Cylon-like.

The disinterested tone shook Apollo, as it did every time Starbuck spoke,
which was rarely enough. Apollo forced himself to look into the emotionless
face of his best friend. "Please have a seat, Starbuck," he said, trying to
organize his thoughts. Without a word, Starbuck took the seat opposite
Apollo. Apollo looked down at the paperwork on his desk. "Colonel Tigh
tells me you've been certified fit for duty."

"Yes, sir."

This wasn't working and Starbuck was obviously not going to make it any
easier. "I don't suppose I can trust you in a viper." The words were out of
his mouth before he could censor them.

But before Apollo could react to his own lapse, Starbuck replied, "I think
you can, Captain. I've requalified." The voice was still flat, but
something in it made Apollo look up again, as Starbuck continued, "And you
have effectively ordered me not to die." There was no change in the
expressionless face, but Apollo saw something flicker in Starbuck's eyes,
gone almost as soon as it appeared.

"That makes things a lot easier," Apollo admitted, and Starbuck nodded his
understanding. "Dr. Salik told me that you're probably not up to sitting in
the pilot's seat unrelieved for long patrols, however. So I'd like to put
you on light duty for now."

"Yes, sir."

"I'd like to be able to think you'll tell me how you're feeling so I can
rotate you into normal duty when you've healed enough to handle it."
Starbuck didn't respond to this. "I didn't think so. Okay, I'll just wait
for Salik to clear you for full duty."

"Yes, sir."

Now for the hard part. Apollo looked down again and shuffled the papers on
his desk. "I don't think I can have you as my second anymore. I've given
that position to Lieutenant Boomer."

Apollo looked up quickly enough to catch the quirk of his lips before
Starbuck replied, "Understood, sir."

Apollo abruptly changed direction. "But I would like you to remain as my
wingmate, if you would."

For a moment, Starbuck just stared at his friend. Then, in a voice that
*almost* held emotion, he replied, "Yes, Captain, I would. Thank you."

***

Starbuck was the last to leave Blue Squadron's locker room. Apollo had,
with some trepidation he suspected, given him leadership of the newest
squad of cadets assigned to Blue Squadron. He knew Apollo was trying to
stretch his commitment to living beyond doing his best as a warrior and
obeying direct orders. But Starbuck wasn't sure he could meet his Captain's
requirements this time. He knew his treatment of the cadets seemed cold and
uncaring - correct, precise, but with no chatter, no treating them as
individuals. It was all he could do. He pushed down his feelings. He had no
place for them anymore.

He stood in the dim sleep cycle lighting of the corridor, waiting for his
eyes to adjust. Nothing in his body seemed to work quite right, but so far
he'd been able to adjust for the changes and continue to function. Two of
his cadets were standing in the corridor, barely in his line of sight. They
were facing away from him and remained unaware of his presence. He heard
the topic of their conversation and stayed where he was, listening despite
himself.

The brunette, who wore her hair like an equine tail high on her head, said,
"Nonetheless, Lor, I'm learning so much from him. And he's patient. He'll
tell you and show you the same thing over and over again until you get it
right."

The blonde, whose hair reminded Starbuck of the froth at the top of a mug
of ambrosa, responded, "Yeah, but when you *do* get it right, he just goes
on to the next person or the next maneuver without a word. The only way you
can tell you got it right is because he moves on to the next thing. And his
voice, ugh! It's like listening to a Cylon."

The brunette laughed. "It's not that bad."

"Maybe not," the blonde conceded. "At least taking direction during
practice is better than lecture. I can't look at him, I swear. He has no
expression, never looks you in the eyes. I tell you, it gives me the
creeps. I don't think he looks at us at all except to make sure we've got
our suits and equipment done properly."

"True," the brunette agreed. "But I think you're being too hard on him. He
wasn't assigned to be your best friend. And I still say we can learn a lot
from him."

"Well, maybe," the blonde said, leaning closer and lowering her voice
slightly, "But do you know what I heard?"

"I will in a centon."

"No, really. I heard he was a prostitute until one of his 'clients'
sponsored him into the Academy. And I heard he killed his procurer in a
fight that -"

"That's enough!" the brunette interrupted. "I don't listen to that
felgercarb! C'mon if we don't hit the food line soon, there'll be nothing
left."

The women, headed away from the locker room door. When he had realized that
they were discussing him, Starbuck felt something crack inside him. As the
blonde made her announcement, he felt himself shatter. He slid down the
wall and put his face to his knees, hands over his head. Silent sobs racked
his body and he couldn't stop them.

It was the next duty cycle before anyone found him. Ensign Cree, heading
for his first solo long-range patrol, nearly tripped over the hunched-up
figure in front of the locker room door. He quickly recognized the blonde
lieutenant who had trained him. "Lieutenant! Are you all right?"

Starbuck tried to rein in his emotions at the voice and discovered he
couldn't. Face still buried in his lap, it was all he could do to shake his
head no.

Not knowing what was the matter, Cree didn't want to move the Lieutenant.
Instead, he ran to the nearest unicomm and called the duty officer.

Apollo and Boomer were exchanging shifts as duty officer when Cree's call
came in. They both headed for the locker room corridor at a run. They found
Cree squatting in front of Starbuck, speaking soothingly to him. "Whatever
it is, it'll be all right, Lieutenant. Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Boomer
are on their way." Cree stood at the footsteps and stepped back. "Sirs," he
greeted his squadron leaders.

"Report," Boomer barked, as Apollo knelt next to Starbuck and put a
tentative hand on his shoulder. For a micron, Apollo thought he felt
Starbuck lean into his grip, but he wasn't sure.

"Yes, sir," Cree was saying. "I was on my way to the launch bay for my
patrol, sir, when I found Lieutenant Starbuck here. I asked him if he was
all right and he indicated he wasn't. I wasn't sure what to do, so I
contacted you."

"Very good, Ensign. You acted correctly," Apollo commended him. "Quite
probably the Lieutenant missed a nutrition supplement and felt
light-headed. It's happened before," he lied. "I'll see to it that he eats
and I'm sure he'll be fine. Boomer," Apollo continued, "why don't you help
the Ensign get ready since he's lost some prep time. It *is* his first solo
patrol."

Boomer looked suspiciously at Apollo, but nodded. He knew Starbuck was
following his diet rigorously, eating precisely what the doctor ordered and
not a bite more or less. He doubted Starbuck had missed a meal or snack.
"Let's go, Cree."

From the floor a hollow voice said, "Thank you, Ensign. And good luck with
your solo." The three men looked down. Starbuck, blank mask firmly in place
on his pale face, looked back at them with empty eyes. He managed a small
smile for Cree as he wished him luck, the first smile his friends had seen
since his attack, but it was gone as soon as the Ensign turned away.

Apollo stood and offered a hand to Starbuck. Starbuck hesitated, then took
it and rose. Eyes downcast, he corrected the Captain's prior statement. "I
didn't miss a nutrition supplement, sir. I'm all right now."

Apollo sighed. "I know you didn't, but you're not 'all right'. We need to
talk. Let's go somewhere private." When Starbuck stood still, head down, he
made it an order. "Come with me, Lieutenant." He led Starbuck to his
quarters and locked the door.

Starbuck stood still in the middle of the room, while Apollo walked past
him to the seating area. "Now tell me what happened," Apollo said, not
quite making it an order.

"I can't, Captain," Starbuck said flatly. Then, before Apollo could make
his request an order, Starbuck begged, desperation in his voice, "Captain -
Apollo - please! Don't make me! Once I start, I can't stop - I can't
control myself. Please!" But his plea was too late. As he uttered the
words, Starbuck's mask crumpled. He put his hands to his face and sank to
his knees.

Apollo was on his knees in front of the shaking man instantly. He gathered
him into his arms and tried to calm him, but to no avail. The sobs turned
to dry heaves, the rigidity left Starbuck's body and he clung helplessly to
Apollo, but this only increased his distress. Finally Apollo lifted him,
frowning at the light weight, and, still stroking his back soothingly,
walked to the couch and laid him down. Starbuck immediately curled into a
ball, still shaking violently. Apollo, never taking his eyes off his
friend, went to his desk and commed the Life Center.

At Apollo's barked, "Come," Dr. Salik entered, hypospray in hand, and went
directly to Starbuck. Microns after he administered the medication,
Starbuck's body stilled and he sighed deeply. Slowly straightening his
body, he turned toward the two men standing nearby. In an exhausted
whisper, Starbuck said, "I told you once I started I couldn't stop."

Dr. Salik angrily snapped, "And *I* told *you* that you couldn't keep
everything bottled up. That sooner or later you'd explode. And you have."

Apollo turned from one man to the other. "Would one of you like to explain
what happened here?"

Salik turned to the younger man. "I purposely misled your father and you
about the Lieutenant's fitness for duty. The truth is, the psych tests
indicated that he was consciously controlling and suppressing his emotions;
that it was completely voluntary on his part. I agreed to certify him,
because I felt that he needed a focus in order to begin to heal
psychologically, but I also let him know what would happen if he didn't
confront his anxieties under controlled circumstances."

Apollo advanced on the doctor, who retreated at the fierce look on his
face. "What if this had happened while he was on patrol? Or during a raid?"

"It wouldn't have," the tired voice from the couch said, diverting Apollo's
attention. "I made sure I understood that. I knew what I promised you,
Captain, and -" "Starbuck faltered a bit, then continued, "and my word is
still important to me. And I wanted to be sure I wouldn't endanger anyone
else."

Apollo looked towards Salik for confirmation and received a nod. "So what
*did* happen, Starbuck?"

"Dr. Salik told me that being in an environment that somehow reminded me of
- of what I'm trying to avoid thinking abboout might trigger a backlash. I
guess it did."

"And it obviously did," Salik pointed out, stepping forward again. "Now
you'll have to begin working on your problems with the psych-tech."

The medication kept Starbuck from reacting physically to the suggestion,
but he pleaded desperately, "No, please, don't make me do this. Not with a
machine. I'd rather - " He cut himself off and looked away.

"Die?" Apollo finished for him. "But you can't do that."

"I know," Starbuck responded softly, still looking at the wall.

Apollo turned to the doctor. "Isn't there some other way to help him?"

Salik considered. "Starbuck needs to let these emotions out, understand
what he's afraid of. It most likely will require some level of sedation for
him to be able to even begin. If Starbuck could open up to someone else,
even a lay person, that might work. I suppose I could train such a person
in administering the sedative and recognizing the signs that it's needed."
He turned to Starbuck. "But you need to agree to cooperate."

Apollo walked to the couch and squatted to put a hand on Starbuck's
shoulder. "What about it? Do you want to try?"

Starbuck sat up to meet his Captain's gaze. "I don't have any choice, do
I?" he asked in a resigned voice.

"Yes, you do, actually. I won't make this an order, Starbuck. I don't think
it would work that way." Salik nodded his agreement.

Starbuck looked at Salik. "Who would I be meeting with? You or one of your
doctors?"

Salik shook his head. "No, this requires a long-term commitment and the
amount of time for each session can't be determined in advance. I can't
afford the time and neither can any of my staff. That's why I mentioned the
possibility of a lay person."

Starbuck turned to Apollo. "You'd have to assign someone to do this with
me, Captain. Nobody's going to volunteer. Relieve both of us of duty." He
shook his head. "The cost's too high. I'm not worth it."

"You're wrong, Starbuck. I think if I asked for volunteers I'd have to hold
a lottery. You have a lot of friends in this fleet who hate seeing you like
this. And the cost isn't too high. You're worth every cubit it will cost.
But I won't have to ask for volunteers. I'll work with you. If you're
willing."

Starbuck nodded, too stunned to speak.

"All right, then. You rest here. I'll arrange to get your stuff moved in
and Boxey can stay with Father for a while." The decision made, Starbuck
nodded again, and lay down, his eyes drifting closed. Apollo turned to
Salik. "Why don't you explain how I'll know that Starbuck needs medication
and how to administer it?"

***

"Apollo, please," Starbuck could barely get the words out, he was finding
it so difficult to breathe. It seemed that he could either live - as
ordered - or feel. Not both. Feeling was dying. He couldn't breathe once he
let himself feel any emotion at all.

Apollo quickly crossed the room with the syringe and quickly injected half
of it into his friend's neck. Almost immediately Starbuck breathed more
easily. But he shook his head. "I can't go on like this. It's not getting
any better and it's eating you up along with me."

"Starbuck look at me," Apollo demanded, holding him by the shoulders.
Starbuck forced himself to look into his Captain's eyes. "You have to tell
me what started all this." Starbuck shook his head, but kept breathing and
even managed to keep looking at Apollo. "It's been sectons. Father can't
keep us off-duty much longer and you're not fit for duty any more."

"I know. I told you this wouldn't work."

"Yes, you did," Apollo admitted. "But I've been following the script Dr.
Salik gave me. Using the questions he said the psych-tech would ask. That's
not working. So now I'm asking you what I asked in the first place: what
started all this?" 'Please don't make me order you to answer,' Apollo
prayed silently.

As if he had heard, Starbuck took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and began
to speak. "I knew the only way I could obey you - and be useful to the
fleet - was to take no notice of anything. I couldn't let anything affect
me. If nothing touched me, no one got close, I could perform my duties.
Eat, sleep, work. Only what I had to do. Nothing personal. And that was
working. But I had to stay away from people for it to work. People are
personal." He opened his eyes. "Does that make any sense?" Apollo nodded,
not wanting to break the spell by speaking.

"Okay, then. What happened was I couldn't obey my own rules." A bitter grin
twisted Starbuck's features. "Figures, huh? Anyway, I was locking up after
a practice session with the cadets, when I heard two of them discussing me.
I should have left, should have gone back inside, should have let them know
I was there. But I didn't. What they were saying wasn't flattering and it
hurt. But it was true and I was consciously doing that - being
unapproachable. That wasn't what broke me down." He took another deep
breath. "But then one of them said she'd - heard - a - a- rumor . . . " He
was gasping again, but waved off the syringe. "No more sedation. Let me
try. This is what you don't know. The rest, the rest you saw. My telling
it, it doesn't matter if I can or not. This is the - the worst. Wait.
Please."

Starbuck put his hands on his knees and bent his head. Slowly he regained
control over his breathing. He looked up again and spoke in a rush. "She
said she'd heard a rumor that I was a prostitute." He doubled over, then
forced himself up, his face almost blue from lack of oxygen. "And it's
true. The rest, the rest I could live with - and that's what you ordered -
hated, avoided, as long as I could be useful - they don't have to like me
to learn from me." He breathed in air in a gulp. "But if they know *that*,
they can't respect me. How could anyone? And then I'm useless. I can't -
Apollo, I *want* to obey you - but I can't."

Suddenly, Starbuck calmed, his face still pale, but regaining color.
"Apollo, you saw Kale rape me. I was unconscious or bound for most of it.
But that isn't the way it usually was. I let him beat me, stood or lay
there and allowed it, unbound and fully conscious. The more he hurt me, the
harder I got. That's the way I know - the only way - to - make love." He
broke off and looked at Apollo then. Really looked. And Apollo looked back,
met his eyes evenly. "It doesn't make a difference to you!" Starbuck cried
out, amazed. The dimmest of hopes came into his eyes.

"Why should it?" Apollo asked him. "I care about what you were forced to do
and how it molded you. But you ran from it - twice - so I know it isn't the
life you wanted. Why should that make a difference in how I feel about
you?"

"You would trust a man who lets himself be used that way, who doesn't have
the courage to stand up to what he knows is wrong?"

"I always have, and you've never let me - or anyone else - down." Apollo
reached for Starbuck's hand and stroked it gently. "You only let yourself
down, and even that, not for long. You broke away. You had to."

Reluctantly, Starbuck pulled his hand away. "I have to think. I just
assumed . . ."

"Did you turn away from Cass because she was a socialator?"

"No, of course not."

"Did you turn away from Sheba because she fell under Iblis' spell?"

"You know I didn't."

"Then why should you think your friends would turn away from you?" Starbuck
just shook his head. "I'm not trying to tell you," Apollo continued gently,
"that there aren't those who either don't know you or who don't like you,
who will turn away. But your friends - all of us - will be there to help
you through. And those who just don't know you will learn what you're
really like. The others? The others you didn't need in the first place."

Slowly Starbuck nodded. Even more slowly, he lifted his head and reached a
hand out to Apollo, smiling hesitantly. The smile reached his eyes when
Apollo clasped the hand in both of his.

***

"How's he doing?" Boomer asked, nodding in Starbuck's direction.

Apollo put down his fork and thought for a moment. So much had happened
since Starbuck had collapsed in his quarters. "He's all right," he said
finally. At Boomer's raised eyebrow, he continued, "Not that he's anything
like what he was, well, before Kale came on board. I don't think he'll ever
put that facade together again. But he's not just going through the motions
now."

"Here he comes," Boomer cautioned in a low voice.

Apollo nodded. "That's another thing. He won't say anything, but it really
bothers him that *everyone* treats him like he's going to break."

"'Morning," Starbuck greeted them, tray in hand. He hesitated, unsure
whether they wanted him to join them.

"Grab a chair," Boomer invited.

Starbuck nodded and sat, toying with his food. Apollo picked up his own
fork and began eating. Boomer took the cue and tilted back in his chair,
sipping on his morning kaf. Feeling their eyes leave him, Starbuck managed
to get a few bites of food down. He knew Apollo was right. His friends
hadn't deserted him. But Kale's voice in the back of his head still told
him they should have.

"Sleep okay?" Apollo asked.

"Gets a little better as time passes," Starbuck replied honestly. He
paused, then spoke in a rush, before Kale's voice got louder. "Look, I know
I'm not steady enough to pilot, but isn't there something I could do to be
useful - or at least keep busy? I have too much time to think. I need
something to do."

Before Apollo could figure out a response to this unanticipated request,
Boomer's voice rumbled, "You could take my recruiting shift, if all you
want is to keep busy. I'd *rather* have some free time."

Starbuck looked from Boomer to Apollo, hope warring with pessimism. Boomer
appeared to be sincere, but Apollo looked skeptical. 'Maybe trusting me
isn't as easy as he said it was,' Starbuck thought, with a mental sigh.

"That might not be a bad idea," Apollo said thoughtfully.

"You doing the final interview before the physical?" Starbuck asked.

"Yeah," Boomer replied. "Bor-ring. After all the qualifying tests, if we
haven't weeded 'em out or scared 'em away by then, one more set of
questions isn't going to do it."

Well, Captain, it doesn't sound too stressful to me. Besides, the
med-tech's right there if I freak out," Starbuck said lightly, a small
smile playing around his mouth.

"Okay, you've convinced me," Apollo said, chuckling. "I'll check it out
with my father."

***

"Here's your first victim, Lieutenant," the recruiting ensign announced
with a smile.

Starbuck returned the smile with a quick one of his own and gave himself a
quick pep talk. 'Smile, Bucko. You don't have to look at whoever it is,
just look in the general direction and smile. Probably won't even know who
you are. Okay, here goes.'

Starbuck's smile was a little shaky, but the nervous recruit didn't notice.
He was too busy trying to conjure up his own smile. He did notice that the
interviewing officer didn't quite meet his eyes, but decided it was part of
the interviewing technique to keep him off-balance. When Starbuck heard the
nervous tone of voice, he did meet the recruit's eyes and smiled more
reassuringly. He wasn't going to get any rejection or pity from the scared
young Scorpion. The young man clearly was too worried about making a good
impression to notice to whom he was talking. Somehow, that relieved
Starbuck. He had tried to convince himself that pity and rejection were all
he deserved and all he was going to get. But part of him didn't quite
believe it, so he was relieved to go unrecognized.

The Scorpion recruit's words were gentle and soft-spoken as he handed over
his application. Starbuck risked a second glance up, but not for long.
Shame forced his eyes back down. The recruit in front of him might not know
who he was, might not have heard the rumors, but Starbuck knew. The
preliminaries done, Starbuck put aside the application and got down to
business, flicking his eyes up at an interesting answer, otherwise taking
careful notes.

Finally, he looked up, almost right at the Scorpion, smiled again, and
thanked him. He didn't extend his hand until the recruit extended his, but
Starbuck's handshake was brisk and firm. Then he gestured to a curtained
doorway and the recruit went through it, coming to the med-tech.

The Scorpion came through the curtain looking backward and gave the
med-tech a flustered look. "Who?" he asked.

She knew what he meant. "Lieutenant Starbuck," she replied.

"Oh," the recruit replied and looked back again.

"Yes," The med-tech continued, taking care to hide her feelings. "And I'll
be doing your physical today. My name's Cassiopeia."

**

Starbuck walked around the corner, stopping in surprise when he saw Apollo
sitting against the door to his quarters. "Apollo? What's wrong?"

Apollo looked up at the sound of his friend's voice. "Nothing," he replied,
getting to his feet. "I just wanted to see you."

"You'd better come in, then." Starbuck entered the code into his door and
it slid open.

Apollo followed Starbuck into his quarters, watching as the other man
shrugged off his flight jacket and threw it onto the chair in the corner of
the room.

"What did you want to see me about?" Starbuck asked.

Apollo dropped his gaze briefly before meeting Starbuck's eyes. "Starbuck,
are you avoiding me?"

Starbuck looked away. "Avoiding you? I don't know what you mean."

The captain walked towards Starbuck. "Yes, you do. Ever since you admitted
that you loved me you've avoided being alone with me. Why?"

Starbuck snorted a laugh. "Sagan, Apollo, why do you think? *Look* at me."

"Oh, believe me, I do," murmured Apollo, smiling slightly at the blush that
rose in Starbuck's cheeks.

"Apollo, you're the captain of the squad and I'm a whore, do you really
think it's appropriate?"

Apollo strode forward and captured Starbuck's hands in his own. "You are
*not* a whore!"

"No?" contradicted Starbuck, pulling his hands out of Apollo's grasp. "What
would you call it, then?"

"You were someone who got caught up in something nasty when he was young
only to have it come back." Apollo started to pace the length of the room.
"I *love* you, Starbuck. Don't you understand that? I don't care what other
people think or say? I only care about *you*."

"How can you?"

Apollo stopped pacing and help Starbuck's gaze. "Starbuck, ever since I
have known you, you have been brave, courageous, kind. You've stood up for
those who couldn't stand up for themselves. What's not to love?"

Starbuck closed his eyes and sank down on to the bed. "Apollo, you don't
understand. You *can't*."

"Then help me to understand," begged Apollo. "You've told me some of it.
Please, trust me with the rest. I *want* to help you, Starbuck. Please, let
me."

Starbuck felt the bed move under him as Apollo climbed on it behind him.
The captain wrapped his arms around Starbuck's waist and placed his legs on
either side of him, allowing Starbuck to lean back into his embrace.

"Explain it to me," whispered Apollo softly. "Give me a chance. Please,
Starbuck, that's all I'm asking.

"You don't know how difficult it is," replied Starbuck, his voice barely
audible.

Unconsciously Apollo tightened his hold on Starbuck. "I didn't judge what
you've already told me. I could never judge you. I *love* you." Rocking
slightly, he spoke softly. "Starbuck, you can trust me. Please?"

Starbuck nodded gently. "I was only 11 yahrens old when Larby first took me
to Kale." A soft rain of tears ran down Starbuck's face and gently splashed
onto Apollo's arms. "He owned me from the micron he saw me."

Apollo listened as Starbuck began to tell him everything about his times
with Kale. About how every time he'd gone to Umbra he'd pick Starbuck up
from the orphanage as soon as he got there, only to drop him back off the
morning he'd leave.

"In a way Kale's attention was for he best," commented Starbuck absently.

"For the best?! Starbuck, how can you say that?" Apollo asked, the shock
evident in his voice.

"When Kale handed me back over to Larby at the end of that first time he
made it clear that I wasn't to go to anyone else. I would see the other
kids get farmed out every weekend, but not me. I was 'special'."

Apollo heard the bitter tone, and knew this was something Starbuck had been
told by Larby and Kale. "I was for Kale only," Starbuck continued. "At
first, Larby didn't bother to listen and gave me to this man for the
weekend. Kale came to Umbra a couple of days after, and he knew. He just
knew that I'd been with someone else. I don't know what he said to Larby,
but it never happened again." A sob escaped Starbuck's throat. "I was
Kale's, and no one else was allowed to touch me."

"Starbuck, you were just a child," Apollo's voice was as quiet as
Starbuck's.

"Not when I got to the Academy I wasn't," his voice was more forceful, but
the words were still punctuated with hiccuping sobs. "But even then, he
still controlled my life. There was one time... one time he took me to a
'party' he was having with some of his friends."

Apollo closed his eyes, knowing what Starbuck was going to say. He
desperately wanted Starbuck not to tell him anything more, but knew that
he'd asked his friend to trust him, and that's what Starbuck was doing.

"I was the entertainment." Starbuck's voice dropped to barely a whisper.
"They made me go around to each of them, and if I didn't do what I was
ordered to well enough, then I was punished."

"Punished?"

Starbuck nodded. "I was beaten so badly that weekend I couldn't walk for
two days. It was just too painful."

"Did Kale call a doctor?"

"Lords, no. If a doctor had been there then he would have seen the whip
marks and bite marks. Kale couldn't take the risk, and I never reported
anything, although I should have. Sagan knows, there was enough evidence on
my body alone to assure that people would have believed me. But no. I just
lay down and took it. I let him use me for whatever he wanted - just like I
did when he came back. So, now you know what I'm really like."

Apollo was silent, tears running from his eyes. "I never realized," he
whispered. "Oh Sagan, Starbuck, I never realized."

"That's not all," continued Starbuck, flushing in shame.

Apollo ran his fingers through Starbuck's blond hair. "I'm here, love.
Anything you want me to know, I'm here."

"You know how I told you that the only way I knew how to make love was with
pain?"

"Yes," nodded Apollo, recalling the earlier conversation.

"That's how Kale... 'trained' me."

"Trained you?" Apollo was confused. "I don't understand."

"He taught me to find pleasure in the pain." Starbuck's voice dropped even
lower. "To not be able to find release without it."

"But what about the others you've been with?" Apollo winced as soon as the
question left his mouth. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked that."

"No, it's all right," Starbuck assured him. "I never slept with anyone else
apart from Cassi."

"But the reputation you've got?"

Starbuck laughed. "I was trained to pleasure people, Apollo. Trust me, I'm
good at it. As long as my partner's happy, then it doesn't matter."

"And Cassi?" Apollo couldn't help his curiosity.

"Cassi was a socialator; she's well aware of the... quirks some people
have. I never told her everything. I've never told anyone everything. Until
now, that is. So, don't you see now why you can't love me?"

Apollo shook his head. "Starbuck, I can only love you *more* for surviving
what you've just told me."

Starbuck turned to meet Apollo's eyes. "How can you say that. You know what
I am."

"I know that you're still the man I've known for yahrens. You're still the
man who is my friend. And you're still the man I love," replied Apollo
softly, his voice faltering slightly.

"What is it?" Starbuck asked, shifting to look at Apollo.

"What's what?"

"The question you want to ask me. I can see it in your eyes, Apollo."

Apollo looked uncomfortable. "There's nothing I want to ask you."

Starbuck laughed softly. "Like someone once said, don't lie to me, I know
you too well."

Apollo smiled, hearing the words he had once said to Starbuck quoted back
to him. "I was just wondering about Athena."

"What about her?"

"Starbuck, I *know* my sister. I can't imagine her letting you do all the
work." Apollo tried to stop the blush that rose to his face, but was
unsuccessful. "Well, I've got to admit, *this* is a conversation I never
thought I'd have," he muttered, turning his head away.

Starbuck reached out. Gently placing his fingers on Apollo's cheek, he
turned the other man's face. "Apollo," he said softly, staring into his
eyes, "I *never* slept with Athena."

"You never-? But I thought..." Apollo's voice trailed off. "Why not?"

"I used to use you as an excuse. I kept telling her that you'd kill me if I
even laid a finger on her before we were sealed." Starbuck grinned
sheepishly. "It worked, too."

"But the way you and she acted, it was like lovers."

Starbuck smiled. "She only did that because she said it used to upset you.
She used to tell me that the thought of your younger sister having a sex
life was something you hated to think about."

"Actually, it was the thought of my younger sister having a sex life with
the man I was in love with that used to drive me insane," Apollo informed
him. "I didn't hate it when Athena acted like that because she's my sister,
it's because she was with *you*."

Starbuck tried to tear his gaze away from Apollo, but found himself leaning
forward, trapped in the other man's bright green eyes. His mouth was just
about to brush Apollo's when a quiet moan broke the silence. Starbuck
snapped back to reality with a jolt when he realized the sound had come
from himself. "We shouldn't do this," he said, standing up. He had barely
taken a step from the bed when he felt Apollo's hand on his arm.

"Tell me why we shouldn't." The request was part plea, part demand.

"I-" Starbuck's voice trailed off as Apollo's fingers trailed down his
cheek, and his eyes closed at the soft touch.

Apollo stepped up behind Starbuck, wrapping his arm around Starbuck's waist
and pulling their bodies closer together.

The heat Apollo's body seeped through Starbuck's uniform. He felt the
erection pressing into his hip and a tremor ran through him. The other
man's fingers danced lightly over his throat.

"Give us a chance," murmured Apollo, his hot breath caressing Starbuck's
ear. "Let me show you."

Starbuck shuddered. "Yes," he breathed.

Apollo smiled, dropping his mouth to Starbuck's neck, tongue darting out to
lap at the exposed throat.

Starbuck felt the hand pressed against his stomach move and begin to open
his uniform, the fabric falling open to reveal his chest.

Moving his mouth, Apollo replaced it with a hand, continually stroking
Starbuck's neck, as his other hand slowly brushed up and down Starbuck's
chest.

Starbuck found himself leaning further back into Apollo as fingers began to
circle one of his nipples, gently manipulating the flesh until it hardened.

"Know this," Apollo whispered into Starbuck's ear, "I will always love
you."

Through the arousal fogged haze in his mind, Starbuck felt the hand teasing
his nipple move downwards and work inside his uniform. "Ahh!" Starbuck
gasped, as Apollo released his straining erection from the confines of his
clothes. "Yes," he hissed, as a hand closed around the rigid shaft, thumb
swirling around the head, collecting and spreading the moisture that had
trickled out of the tip. Unable to keep still, Starbuck's instincts took
over as he thrust forward into the slick tunnel of Apollo's hand.

"Come for me, Starbuck," Apollo whispered as his hand tightened it's grip
and moved faster,

"I... can't," cried Starbuck, his breath coming in short, panting gasps.
"Sagan, Apollo, *please*."

Apollo closed his eyes. He knew that Starbuck wouldn't be able to easily
overcome whatever 'training' Kale had given him, but he was prepared to be
there for his lover. Moving his other hand to one of Starbuck's nipples,
Apollo viciously twisted the flesh, wincing when Starbuck cried out in a
combination of pain and pleasure. Lowering his head, Apollo bit down into
Starbuck's shoulder, keeping up the pressure of the bite even when he
tasted the cooper tang of blood running into his mouth.

"It's not... enough," gasped out Starbuck.

"I don't know what to do," admitted Apollo quietly.

Starbuck grabbed the hand on his nipple and guided it to his throat. "I
can't," said Apollo when he realized what Starbuck wanted him to do.

"Please."

Closing his eyes, Apollo wrapped his hand around Starbuck's throat and
began to squeeze.

Colours danced in front of Starbuck's vision as Apollo's hand tightened. He
was gasping for air when a second pain shot through his shoulder.

Closing his grip around Starbuck, Apollo looked down at the bleeding bite
on his shoulder. Lowering his head again, he sharply bit back into the
wound.

The increased pain of the bite and the lack of oxygen sent Starbuck
hurtling over the abyss and he came, his climax arcing into the air.

Apollo quickly released Starbuck's throat and held him tightly, the other
man's body shaking from the orgasm.

Panting heavily, Starbuck's sated body slumped back into Apollo's embrace
as tears ran down his face. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Don't be. *Never* be sorry when you're with me," replied Apollo, his voice
equally soft. "Please, Starbuck, let me love you. We can deal with anything
else when it happens." Bringing his mouth down, Apollo teased open
Starbuck's lips with his tongue.

Starbuck's mouth opened to accept Apollo, and he gently moaned in protest
when the captain pulled away.

"Will you let me love you?"

Starbuck closed his eyes for an instant before opening them again. Meeting
Apollo's gaze, he smiled softly. "Yes," he replied.

Smiling, Apollo led him to the bed and sat him down. Disappearing into the
bathroom, he reappeared with a warm, damp cloth and gently wiped the blood
away from his lover's shoulder. Throwing the cloth into a corner, he
carefully stripped the rest of the uniform off Starbuck's body and pushed
him down onto the bed before pulling his own clothes off. Climbing under
the covers, he pulled Starbuck to him.

Starbuck's hand automatically reached for Apollo's hard shaft, and he
looked up in confusion when Apollo captured the wrist.

"Not now," Apollo explained, gently kissing the palm of Starbuck's hand.
"You're exhausted. I want you to get some sleep." He willed his throbbing
erection to go down, wanting to show Starbuck that he didn't just want sex,
but love.

"But-"

"But nothing. All I want is to be here with you. Go to sleep, and I'll be
here when you wake up."

"Promise?" Starbuck asked, his eyes already closing as his snuggled into
Apollo's embrace.

"I promise," answered Apollo, continuing to murmur softly to him,
reassuring the other man that he would be there when Starbuck woke. Apollo
felt Starbuck's breathing become steadier until he was asleep. Shifting
gently so that he didn't wake the man in his arms, Apollo moved slightly
until he was comfortable. It was only when he was sure that Starbuck
wouldn't wake that Apollo closed his own eyes and fell asleep.

***

When the door to his quarters chimed, Starbuck called "Come," without even
looking up

"Hi, Starbuck," Athena greeted him, walking in. He jumped, dropping the
book he was reading. "Sorry, you did answer the door, didn't you?"

"Umm, yes, of course. I just ..." he trailed off. No one but Apollo called
on him. Everyone was perfectly friendly when he was in public, but, despite
Apollo's assurances that no one thought less of him, no one visited.
Starbuck couldn't blame them. *He* wouldn't want to be around him if he
didn't have to. So what was Athena doing here? "What can I do for you?"

"Can't I just drop by for a friendly visit?" she replied, smiling.

He returned her smile, but his own didn't reach his eyes. "Yes," he
answered, "but you didn't." It wasn't a challenge, just an acknowledgment
of the reality of his situation.

Athena sighed. "I'm sorry, I should have come by and seen how you were
doing long before now."

Starbuck shrugged. "Doesn't matter. You're busy. Everyone is." He clamped
his mouth shut before more of his self-pity leaked out.

"Actually," Athena watched her hand as it trailed along the back of a
chair, "I came to ask you a favor." Starbuck nodded and waited. "We had a
... umm ... mishap during today's skirmish."

"I heard. Haynes. Good man."

"Yes, a fine veteran, who should have stuck to teaching when his reflexes
got too slow," Athena said bitterly. She shook her head. "Look, he was
teaching the required advanced defense strategies course. Now I'm down a
lecturer. So I was wondering if you might have the time - "

"Doesn't that course require practice runs?" Starbuck cut her off before
she could finish her question, afraid of the temptation of what she was
offering.

"Yes, it does. Why?"

"I'm not qualified to fly," Starbuck replied bluntly.

"I thought you might want to reapply for certification."

Starbuck looked directly at her suddenly then just as quickly turned away.
"Did Apollo put you up to this?" he asked in a choked voice.

"Apollo doesn't 'put me up to' *anything*," Athena retorted angrily. In the
silence that followed, she tried to figure out what Starbuck's problem was.
"Actually, Colonel Tigh suggested you. I thought it was a good idea."

"Oh. Look, I'm sorry I jumped at you," Starbuck apologized without turning
around. 'Has the Commander approved it?"

"Yes. I probably should have asked you first, but I thought, well, I
thought if you said 'yes' and then he *didn't* approve . . ." she trailed
off.

Starbuck turned to her with a small smile. "Thank you. That was - very
thoughtful." He paused. "I'd be happy to substitute until you can find a
permanent replacement." The smile faded. "That is, if the class is willing
to have me."

***

Athena walked into the lecture hall with Starbuck a half-step behind. The
lecture room was three-quarters full. She explained about the loss of the
Sergeant, then introduced Starbuck. Some of the class had recognized him
already, but it was clear that most only knew his name. Athena asked if
there were any questions, but there were none for the head of the Academy.
She walked back up the aisle, leaving Starbuck behind the lectern on the
dais.

The door had not quite closed behind her when the buzz started. Athena
caught it and listened. Some of it was quiet, innocent curiosity. But
louder, and more insistent, were the derogatory comments, the unsubtle
innuendoes, meant to be heard by the man at the front of the room. She
reached to open the door, meaning to re-enter to restore order and lay down
the law - of common courtesy, even on a Battlestar, if nothing else. But
before she could, Starbuck moved.

He limped to the center of the dais and thumped his pointer once, hard, on
the polished floor. Those who weren't already staring at him as they made
their vicious comments, turned and looked. And everyone stopped speaking.
He looked over their heads, standing erect. And then he began speaking in a
soft voice, unamplified, but one that carried through the silent room.

"I don't expect - or deserve - your respect for myself as a person. But I
do expect you to respect the position and the rank." The whispers started
up again. The pointer rose and fell once more, and the whisperers were
hushed into silence. He acknowledged this with a small nod. "I ask that you
hear me out. If you still feel that I'm unfit to be your instructor after
I'm done, I will request reassignment." He paused, but there was no sound
in the room. He pressed his lips together for a moment and continued. "What
happened to me and what I did as a result are irrelevant here. What makes
me quite possibly the best instructor you could ever have is who and what I
was before I was injured. I was the best viper pilot on the Galactica."

It wasn't a boast, simply a statement of fact, and the cadets all seemed to
realize it. "I can show you how to be the best, all of you. If you want to
learn that, credit me with the respect my experience deserves - respect the
rank I earned by being the best. Respect the fact that, while we're in this
room, or on practice runs, I am your instructor. Once we leave this room,
off-duty, avoid me, curse me, spit on me if you wish. I won't either pull
rank or report you. I have trouble living with myself, I certainly won't
blame any of you." He paused and closed his eyes for a moment before
continuing. "But I cannot teach you if you cannot leave your personal
feelings for me outside these walls."

He leaned heavily on the pointer with both hands now, head bowed, waiting.
Finally, one of the girls from the "in" crowd rose from her seat, halfway
up the ranks in the center section. He raised his head at the sound. She
looked around, including the entire group in her statement. "We would be
honored to have you teach us, Lieutenant."

He straightened, nodded acknowledgment, and returned to the lectern. "In
that case," he said, opening his notes, "let's begin with a review."

Athena closed the door softly, and turned to find her father standing
silently behind her. "They think he's a coward - or a degenerate," she
whispered, tears filling her eyes.

But Adama shook his head. "They may have thought that until now. But they
just had a lesson in what real courage is."

***

"Starbuck, I can't do this any more," Apollo whispered softly, kissing the
half-healed bruises, bites and welts that covered his lover's back. The lay
spooned together in Starbuck's bed.

"I know," Starbuck answered, equally softly, turning in Apollo's arms so
that they faced each other. He fondled the soft genitals that his erection
bumped against. "You're not getting anything out of this, nothing
pleasurable anyway." He smiled sadly and brushed his lips against Apollo's
chastely.

"I really thought it would get better, that you'd need less as time went
on."

"But I don't. It stays the same." Starbuck sighed. "It's too late for me,
Apollo. It's been too many years of only knowing pleasure through pain. I
can't change no matter how much I want it. No matter how much we both try."
He kissed away Apollo's tears. "Let me pleasure you," he whispered. "Let me
show you what I *can* do, just this once."

Apollo hesitated, then nodded and Starbuck slipped down his lover's body,
grazing it with kisses so light they teased Apollo into arousal. Starbuck's
mouth washed Apollo's scrotum, his tongue reaching back and into the anal
crack, still teasing, pushing gently in until he felt Apollo harden against
his forehead. Then he slid up just enough to lick at the erection, sucking
lightly at the head, sliding his mouth down, teeth grazing the glans. He
continued until Apollo was moaning steadily, trying to push his lover's
head down further. Smiling he pulled the pulsing organ fully into his
mouth, sucking steadily and slowly increasing the suction. When Apollo was
thrusting into Starbuck, Starbuck opened his throat to take him all the way
and Apollo came, thrashing and screaming, pulling Starbuck's hair in his
ecstasy.

When Apollo was done, Starbuck cleaned him thoroughly, drying him with his
tongue as a felix would. Then he moved back up to kiss him on the lips,
letting him taste himself, before he pulled back and slid from the bed.
"I'm going to take a long shower," he announced to the man lying limply on
the bed in front of him. "Please be gone when I get out." Before Apollo
could muster the strength to either reply or reach to stop him, Starbuck
had disappeared into the bathroom, the door snicking locked behind him.

***

"Excuse me, sirs?" a small voice spoke from the doorway.

Boomer and Apollo looked up from the star map they were studying. An
unfamiliar cadet stood at nervous attention facing them.

"Yes, Cadet," Apollo responded. "What can we do for you?"

"Umm, it's kind of - private," she stammered. "It's about my bunkmate."

"Come in," Boomer invited, as he walked past her to close the door. Apollo
sat down behind the desk and Boomer took one of the chairs opposite,
motioning the cadet to take the other.

"Thank you sirs," she replied politely, seating herself.

"Now," Apollo resumed, smiling reassuringly at her, "what about your
bunkmate, Cadet ?"

"Ariana, sir. It's about something that's happening to her. Her, umm,
boyfriend - well, that's not the right word, if it ever was - I don't know
how to -"

"Whoa, slow down, Cadet Ariana!" Boomer stopped her. "Let's start with some
basic information: what's your bunkmate's name?"

"Jenille. And the - guy - his name is Revort."

"All right," Apollo encouraged her, jotting down the names on a pad, "what
seems to be the problem?"

"He's, well, he's hurting her - physically - that's how I know about it.
Some nights she comes in so bad, she needs help. But it's not just
physical, he's getting some kind of hold over her. She gets more and more
afraid, but it's like she's even more worried about what he'll do if she
doesn't do whatever he wants than how he's hurting her. It's getting
worse."

Boomer and Apollo exchanged uncomfortable glances. Apollo cleared his
throat. "First of all, I want you to know how important it is that you
cared enough to come to us. You're a good friend." He stopped short,
suddenly lost in his own thoughts. 'What kind of friend are you?' he asked
himself. 'When was the last time you saw Starbuck, your best friend - your
lover - outside of official duty?' He knew the answer all too well - the
last time he saw Starbuck was when Starbuck had ended their abortive
physical relationship. 'Well,' he defended himself, 'he told me to leave.
He should make the first move.' Even as he thought that, he knew it would
never happen. Boomer's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Hmm? I'm sorry,"
Apollo apologized, 'I guess I got distracted."

"I was saying," Boomer repeated, giving his friend a strange look, "that
because there are two adults involved and no medical report, we really
can't do anything officially, right, Captain?"

"Yes, that's true," Apollo agreed. "I don't suppose you could convince
Jenille to report the incidents.?"

Ariana shook her head. "She's so ashamed. I mean, the injuries - he doesn't
beat her, it's -" the young cadet turned bright red trying to explain to
the two male officers. "It's sex. I can hardly say it, I *know* she
wouldn't. She says nobody would care anyway, 'cause she goes to him, so
it's not rape. Only it is, you know."

"Yes," said Apollo softly, "I do know."

Boomer nodded. "Happened to someone close to us," he explained.

"So you understand, but you can't do anything?" Ariana was past
embarrassment. Senior officers or no, she was headed straight towards
anger.

"Not *officially*," Boomer stressed. "But maybe, maybe we could ask someone
who's been there?" He stopped, uncertain, and looked at Apollo again.

'Gods! How can I ask him to do that when I haven't even asked him how he's
feeling? Frak - I haven't even said hello to him since he gave up on us.'
Apollo looked back at Boomer, then at Ariana, ready to say they couldn't
impose that way, couldn't bring up bad memories like that. But something in
their expectant looks stopped him. "I can ask," he said finally. "I can't
promise anything. It's up to - our friend. But if he's willing. I can
arrange things."

"He?" Ariana asked.

"You think only women get trapped in bad situations?" Boomer asked. "Maybe
it seems that way, but maybe that's just 'cause men don't recognize when
someone needs help as quickly as women do."

"Well, okay," Ariana said hesitantly, still skeptical that something like
this could happen to a man, let alone that a man could win over Jenille
enough for her to confide in him. "I don't see how it could make things
worse. No offense, sirs," she added.

"None taken. I'll, uh, try to, umm, talk to our friend next cycle," Apollo
said, already uncomfortable.

"Thank you, sirs," Ariana stood. "Permission to leave."

"Granted."

***

He was truly alone now. With Apollo gone, no one bothered to see if he was
even alive. Starbuck had hoped his friendship with Apollo would survive,
but apparently Apollo wanted all or nothing. Starbuck picked up a picture
of the two of them in their Triad uniforms and brushed his thumb over
Apollo's face. "You were wrong, Apollo," he told the image. "I couldn't
become normal and no one feels like I'm worth the effort, not even me. Not
even you." He put the picture down. He chuckled at the irony. He was well
enough to play Triad again, but it would never happen now. No one was rude.
No one was cruel. He was welcome wherever he went. But he was invited
nowhere. "I miss you," he murmured to the picture, then turned away.
Checking the chrono, he realized he hadn't eaten all day. He wasn't hungry,
but he turned toward the fooder dutifully, throwing another glance at the
picture as he did so. "See, Apollo, I'm still obeying your order: I'll go
on living and try to be useful. Wish I could see the point to it though."

The door chime rang as he was programming in a late lunch. "Come," he
called, turning to see who was at the door, thinking it would be a mistake
of some kind - wrong level, hall, whatever. He was stunned when the door
slid open to reveal Apollo.

"May I come in?" Apollo remained standing in the hall.

"Yes, of course, Ap - Captain." With some difficulty, Starbuck slid his
public face on. Apollo's cold formality for the past two sectons had made
it clear what their relationship was to be. "Ahh, I was just making myself
something to eat. Care to join me?"

Gods, this was awkward! "Uh, thanks, Starbuck. A cup of kaf would be nice."
Apollo walked in and stood uncertainly in the middle of the small room.
Starbuck's back was turned as he punched the orders into the fooder. Apollo
looked around, trying to gauge Starbuck's emotional state from the room. It
was neat, bed made up, a few personal items ... Apollo paused to look more
closely at the personal items. They all depicted the friendship he and
Starbuck had.

"So, Captain, what can I do for you?" Starbuck said carefully, handing
Apollo a cup of kaf.

Apollo looked at him wonderingly. He'd been wrong when he told Boomer that
Starbuck would never be able to pull his old mask back on. Here it was. A
little cooler, perhaps more formal, but with the same effect. "What makes
you think I came to ask you to do something?"

Starbuck smiled and replied lightly, "You know, that's just what your
sister said not too long ago." His voice cracked on the last syllable,
betraying him, but he recovered quickly. "So what is it?" he finished with
raised brows.

"You didn't answer my question," Apollo said and waited.

"Starbuck turned serious, "Because the last person," he laughed without
humor, "make that the only person who's been here since I left your
quarters was Lieutenant Athena. And she came to ask me to teach."

"The only person," Apollo echoed in disbelief.

"Except for you." The voice was matter-of-fact.

"I - I didn't know. I don't know what to say."

Starbuck shrugged. "There's nothing to say, Captain. That's just the way it
is. So, what do you want?"

Apollo looked into his cup as if it might hold the answer. "I came to ask
if you'd help a cadet out of a bad situation," he said finally, admitting
defeat.

Starbuck nodded. He sipped at the soup he'd ordered and told himself he
wasn't disappointed. 'You sent him away, Bucko,' he reminded himself. "What
kind of situation?" he asked, trying to sound interested.

"Boyfriend trying to take possession of her." Starbuck paused with the mug
halfway to his mouth. "Yeah, I thought it might sound familiar," Apollo
confirmed.

Starbuck paled. "What, what do you want me to do, Captain?" The words came
out barely above a whisper.

Apollo looked down, uncomfortable. "One of her friends came to me and
Boomer. Apparently, the abuse is escalating." Starbuck nodded. "But we
can't do anything unless she makes a complaint."

"She won't," Starbuck stated with certainty.

"Exactly. So we can't do anything officially."

"There are other ways to resolve the situation," Starbuck pointed out.

"Starbuck," Apollo said warningly.

"No, not me," Starbuck laughed self-deprecatingly. "I've never been much of
a fighter one-on-one. But you or Boomer - "

"Starbuck!"

"I didn't mean you two senior officers personally, but word could get
around about what needed doing," Starbuck pointed out.

"You wouldn't," Apollo began, amazed at how quickly the old Starbuck had
resurfaced.

"Couldn't," Starbuck corrected both assumptions at once. "Who would listen
to me? No, don't answer that - we've already had this conversation too many
times." He returned to his previous tone. "So, since you don't want me to
arrange an accident with an airlock for the bastard, what do you want?"

"Boomer and I - we thought you could convince her."

"Ah hah," Starbuck said.

"Look, you can say no if you want to - no harm, no blame. But if anyone
could get her to file a complaint, it's you."

'Yeah,' Starbuck thought, 'thanks for the vote of confidence, old friend.'
But aloud he simply said, "Sure. Why not?" The confident smile would have
been believable if it hadn't been set in a ghost-white face. "I trust
you'll make the arrangements for us to happen to be alone together?"

"I thought long-range shuttle training would work."

"What's her name?"

"Jenille."

Starbuck nodded. "Okay, I'll wait for the change in duty assignments,
then."

Apollo stood. "Thanks, Starbuck."

"No problem." Starbuck stood also. 'Onerous task accomplished, Apollo. You
can race for the door now,' he thought, following his Captain in that
direction.

Apollo turned at the door, but suddenly didn't know what to say.

Starbuck smiled sympathetically. "You know, Captain, you can always comm me
to your office if you have to see me. It might be easier than coming all
the way down here."

Apollo nodded, understanding - or thinking he understood - all the layers
contained in that last sentence. "Well. I'll make that change to the duty
roster now. See you around, buddy."

"Yeah, see you," Starbuck whispered to his back without conviction.

Lost in his own thoughts, Apollo didn't hear the whisper and didn't notice
that the door didn't close behind him. And in the deserted corridor, no one
saw the blond head dip once the Captain was out of sight. Leaning against
the door jamb, Starbuck let the tears fall.

***

Starbuck was already in the shuttle when Jenille hesitantly entered. Seated
in the co-pilot's seat, he was trying to think of casual ways to bring
sexual abuse and domination into a conversation to no avail. 'Big surprise
there, Bucko,' he thought. 'And if you fail him, do you think he'll ever
ask you to do anything else? Not that that would change matters much, just
that then he'd have no reason to even want you alive - not necessarily a
bad change.' Even as he thought that, though, he knew he'd do his best, not
just to obey the man who held his heart, but because no one else should
have to be in this position.

"Umm, hi?" the hesitant cadet said from the entryway behind him.

He swung around. "Cadet," he greeted her. "She's all yours." He motioned to
the pilot's seat.

"She is?" Jenille almost squeaked. "Uh, I know Lieutenant Athena explained
that because of scheduling some people had to do this training early, but I
kinda thought I'd get some sort of prep. Sir," she added belatedly.

"Gee, great idea, Captain, could you have made this set-up any *more*
transparent?" Starbuck grumbled to himself.

"Sir?"

'Did I say that out loud? You're alone too much, Bucko.' Starbuck rose and
smiled in Jenille's general direction. "Sorry. I'm new on this rotation. I
should have looked at your records. Why don't we start out with me
piloting, then? I'll talk you through co-pilot's duties and we'll play it
by ear from there." He moved to the pilot's seat and Jenille gingerly sat
in the seat he had just relinquished and winced. "You okay?"

"Huh? Oh, yes, sir. Just a little sore." She sat forward, not touching the
back of the seat, in a position that Starbuck recognized all too well,
though he suspected none of her other instructors would.

"All right then," he said, keeping the frown off his face with difficulty.
"Have you learned the pre-flight check?" At her nod, he continued. "Good.
Why don't we run through that together? Weight?"

"Balanced at 024 with a tolerance of .035."

"Calibration?"

"Zero-zero."

Since Starbuck had already done one pre-flight check, the entire list went
smoothly. He launched, telling her each step he was taking, as though he
were narrating a vid on how to launch a shuttle. Finally, when they were
cruising parallel to the fleet, he sat back and stretched. "Relax, Cadet.
When you do this for real, you don't even have to keep an eye on the
gauges; the Cora unit will do that for you - won't you darlin'?" he asked
the computer.

"Of course, Starbuck. That's what I'm here for. Who's your friend?" the
sensual female voice of the on-board computer assistant drawled.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Cora, how rude of me! This is a long-range training flight
and this is Cadet Jenille."

"Oh." The computerized voice became frosty. H had heard about this from
some of the female shuttle pilots, but never experienced it himself.
Apparently the personalization module still had its quirks. "How do you do,
Cadet?" the voice continued, coldly professional now.

He swung his chair towards Jenille and chuckled at the wide-eyed look she
was giving the speakers in the front panel. "You'd better answer her. Don't
want to get on the bad side of a computer that could take over your
controls."

"Starbuck!" Cora admonished, "I would *never* do that. My programming won't
let me."

"How - how do you do, Ma'am?" Jenille attempted.

"I do quite well and I'm not a ma'am. My name is Cora."

"Yes, ma'a - umm, Cora."

"Better," the unit snapped. "Do you want me to take over or not, Starbuck?
I suppose you want to do whatever it is you humans do to amuse yourselves
on long trips." She sniffed. "I can remember when you thought I was enough
amusement."

Starbuck groaned. Surely they had scrapped *that* unit. Unless this was
Apollo's idea of a joke. Or Jenny's. She had prepped the shuttle for him.
Jenille was staring at him now. An explanation was in order. Well, it
*would* open the conversation. "Yes, Cora, please take over cockpit
function until further notice," he replied to the computer, then turned to
the cadet. "I had the - ahh - privilege of field testing the first Cora
unit in an experimental viper. It would seem that particular unit has been
installed in this shuttle." He shrugged helplessly. "They're not all this,
umm, opinionated."

"And here I thought you liked me," Cora's voice pouted sulkily.

"Computer, audio off," Starbuck ordered. With an audible raspberry, the
audio clicked off. "Thank you. No audio except for proximity warnings and
alerts." He turned again towards Jenille. "Now, where were we? Oh, yes,
relax, Cadet." She tried to obey, sitting back, but flinched forward almost
instantly, stifling a whimper. "You really are sore," Starbuck offered
sympathetically.

"I, umm -"

"Had a rough night?" he finished for her.

"What, what do you mean?"

Quite aware that this was not the way Apollo expected him to proceed, he
answered evenly, "Just what I said." He looked directly into her eyes. His
own experience told him that she would not open up no matter how many
opportunities he gave her. He had to force her to acknowledge the facts if
he could. He knew he was right when her eyes slid away from his. She wasn't
as good at lying to friends and superiors as he was. "I've had quite a few
rough nights of my own, more than I like to remember. They only get worse
as time goes on don't they?"

That startled Jenille into looking at her instructor again. There was no
mistaking his statement. He wasn't talking about hangovers. "Sir, I - who
are you?"

Starbuck smiled humorlessly. "You mean they didn't tell you who your
instructor was?" Jenille shook her head. "The name's Starbuck." At her
silent 'oh', he continued. "Ah, you've heard of me. Yes. Well. You've
probably heard that I was a prostitute." He was surprised at how easily he
could say it. "Well, you know that's what it looks like from the outside.
Especially once you start getting shared around." He could tell he was
hitting the mark when she shuddered. "I don't think it's prostitution
unless you get paid for it - and unless you can refuse - prostitution's a
business proposition, you know. The only way I got paid was with his
silence. And, of course, I didn't think I could refuse. After a certain
point I really couldn't. That's blackmail, not prostitution." He was
startled to realize he actually believed his words.

"It'll be okay," Jenille protested. "He only hurts me when I don't do what
he wants. Last night I wanted to leave early so I'd be alert for this
training." She shifted and winced.

Starbuck had told himself the same thing many times. "You want a topical
anesthetic?" he asked kindly, not challenging her words. "There's one in
the safety kit."

She nodded, then blushed. "Could you, um, help me?" Then she laughed, a
bitter laugh that struck a chord in Starbuck. "I don't know why I'm
embarrassed," she said. "Although, if he found out someone saw me - someone
he didn't send me to, Gods only know what he'd do."

This gave Starbuck an idea, but he filed it away in his mind for later use.
"Don't be embarrassed," he said. "I wish I had had someone to help me." He
got the spray while Jenille rearranged her tunic to expose her bruised
back. She sighed in relief as the cool mist did its job. Starbuck took
advantage of her relaxation to return to the subject. "He beats you with
his fists?" She nodded. "Does he take you anally?" he asked, remembering
the way she sat down before they launched. She reddened slightly, but
nodded again, and lowered her leggings after a moment's hesitation.
Starbuck bent to spray the abused area, examining it visually. "Doesn't
prepare you very well, does he?"

Jenille looked over her shoulder at that. "I guess not. I didn't know there
was a way to be prepared."

"Oh yeah," Starbuck replied, getting up. "Anal sex can be very pleasant if
you want it and if your partner cares about you." He returned the spray can
to the kit while Jenille redressed. He hesitated a moment as she turned to
face him, then shrugged mentally. "You're wrong, you know. It's not okay as
long as you go along. It gets worse. He'll keep pushing your limits until
you don't have any anymore. He's using his fists instead of just slapping
you now, right?" Jenille nodded. Starbuck turned around and raised his
tunic, exposing the ribbed scars that covered his back. "Soon fists won't
be enough. Then welts won't be enough. Then nothing will."

"What happened?" Jenille whispered, reaching out and stopping her hand just
before she touched the raised, discolored flesh.

Starbuck lowered his tunic and turned, surprised to see her outstretched
hand. "Literally, no punishment was enough. He flayed me and left me to
bleed to death."

"Revort wouldn't do that. Not unless I did something to really upset him,
make him lose control. I'll just have to be careful."

"How long have you known Revort?"

"A yahren just about. I was so lonely. I didn't know anyone on the
Galactica and he seemed so nice and protective. Then he got more protective
- too protective."

"How can you be sure you won't upset him? My guess is he demands more and
more from you. What happens when you can't do what he wants?"

"Is that what happened to you?"

"Something like that. Right now he tears you because he doesn't bother
preparing you. An inconsiderate lover could do that. And, no, he's not your
lover, so don't bother saying it." Jenille closed her mouth without
uttering the words and Starbuck continued. "What happens when he doesn't
just want anal sex? When he wants to cause pain and have you respond? What
will you do when he wants you to cause your own pain?" Starbuck's voice
rose in anger and self-loathing. "Do you want to see what you'll do to
yourself?" He turned abruptly and pulled his leggings down, exposing the
scars radiating, like a crawler's web, from his anus. Jenille gasped and
took a step back. Starbuck swallowed hard and turned, letting her see the
scars that covered his genitals. He pulled up his leggings abruptly.
"Topical anesthetic and anti-inflammatories won't heal those. They get
infected and you can't go to the life center for meds. Scar tissue doesn't
stretch like regular tissue - some things you can't do anymore. Some things
that used to feel good hurt. And, trust me, he won't like it when you can't
do something. I bet he doesn't like it when you show pain either, does he?"
Jenille was shaking her head and backing away. Starbuck stood where he was
and waited until she looked at him. In a quiet voice he told her, "It
doesn't get better. It doesn't stay the same. It just gets worse and worse
and it never ends."

Jenille had her back against the wall. She sank down to a sitting position.
"But what can I do?" she whispered.

Starbuck sat next to her. "You've got to say no. And mean it. Then you can
get on with your life - a normal life."

She looked at him. "Is that what you did?"

Starbuck's head dropped. "No," he whispered. "I didn't have the courage.
Until it was too late for me."

"But you expect me to." She laughed hopelessly.

"No. I don't expect you to. I just know it's the only way out."

"I can't. He'll - he'll-" she couldn't finish the sentence.

"He'll tell everyone what you've done for him?" Jenille nodded. "Hell,"
Starbuck exploded, jumping up and waving his arms in front of her. "That
happens anyway. Look at me! I did my damnedest to keep it secret - I did
whatever he asked, whenever he asked - even after yahrens. Even when he
wasn't there, I was hiding my dirty secret. What good did it do me?" He
knelt in front of her, quiet again. "What was the first thing you thought
when I told you my name? And *he* never told. But the only one I protected
was him." Starbuck snorted. "Frak! Even after he tried to kill me, nobody
wanted to believe he could do such a thing. They believed that I could, but
not him." He took her chin in his hand gently, raising her eyes to his.
"Don't let that happen to you, Jenille."

Starbuck stood, sliding his hand from her face, but leaving his arm
outstretched. She took it and rose silently, still thinking. As they sat,
Jenille looked over at him. "Will you come with me to talk to Captain
Apollo? I know my bunkmate already told him and Colonel Boomer about me.

'No,' Starbuck thought. 'Don't ask me to do that. I'm the last person you
want with you in Apollo's office.' But he heard himself answer, "Sure, if
you want me to."

***

It was over relatively quickly. Apollo requested few details. He sat behind
his desk and keyed in the complaint. Jenille stood in front of the desk and
answered his questions in a soft voice, occasionally looking over her
shoulder at Starbuck, who stood silently just inside the door and smiled
encouragingly at her when she looked back. Apollo caught one of those rare
smiles and sighed inwardly, wishing it was for him.

"I think that about wraps it up," Apollo said, pressing the save key. "Now,
there are a couple of things we can do. We can request a restriction, which
means Colonel Tigh would order Revort to have no contact with you and stay
away from you."

"Revort won't stay away from me."

"We can provide protection or request that Security do so," Apollo
suggested.

Jenille shook her head. "The idea was that I get past this and get on with
my life," she said dryly. "I don't see how I can do that with an armed
escort following me everywhere."

"You can submit the complaint as a formal indictment, and request Revort's
arrest and imprisonment."

"What would I have to do for that?" Jenille asked.

"Testify to what happened, with witnesses if you have any. Show physical
evidence of Revort's violence against you. In other words, prove he's a
danger to you."

"Can I just make the complaint - put it on record?"

"Yes, you can, but -"

"Then that's what I want to do. I'll just avoid him from now on and if he
does anything, well, the complaint is already there." Jenille turned to
leave, but was stopped by Starbuck's frown. He wasn't looking at her, but
it stopped her anyway.

Starbuck looked down, blinking rapidly. He knew as well as Jenille did that
there was no "if". Revort *would* do something - probably something lethal
- if she tried to refuse him. Something JJeenille had said in the shuttle
teased his memory, something that would help. "Wait a centon," he said. "I
have an idea."

Something familiar in Starbuck's tone, from another time in their lives,
made Apollo smile. "Do I want to hear this?" he asked.

Starbuck returned the smile over Jenille's head. "I'm not going to steal
your last secton's wages to bet on a Pyramid scheme this time," he
returned. He turned to Jenille. "Remember what you said on the shuttle -
about what would happen if Revort saw us together?"

"Yes, but I don't see - "

"Listen, suppose we made sure he saw us together. Someplace where help
could be waiting nearby but out of sight." He paused his mind running
through locations. Then he snapped his fingers. "I've got it! Does he
follow you?"

Jenille nodded slowly. "Sometimes. He'll be waiting for me after class or
after a meal. If he's not on duty in engineering. I know he's on duty this
cycle, that's why I wanted to come here now."

"So, if you had shuttle training when he was off-duty, chances are he'd be
waiting for you?"

Jenille shuddered. "Almost certainly. He likes 'surprising' me where there
are dark places where no one can see us."

Starbuck turned to Apollo, whose fingers were already flying over the
keyboard. "Three cycles from now. You two are now scheduled for another
training flight ending during late cycle. Shuttle bay will be just about
closed down when you get back."

***

Starbuck strode down the shuttle ramp with his arm around Jenille. At the
bottom, in a pool of light, he pulled her to him and leaned down for a
lengthy, thorough kiss. Straightening, he backed away grinning and saluted
her. "Until next session, Cadet."

He walked off whistling. Jenille stood for a moment, then shook herself and
started out of the shuttle bay more slowly, distracted by the effects of
the kiss.

"Until next session, Cadet," came a mocking voice from the shadow of a
shuttle. A hand grabbed Jenille's arm roughly and pulled her around. "Just
what did that mean?"

"Revort! It didn't mean anything. He's my flight instructor and he was just
saying good-bye."

"Sure he was! And the kiss was part of the instruction? I think you've
still got some of his spit on you, let me wipe it off." Revort backhanded
Jenille across the mouth, sending her to the floor. He leaned over, ripping
her uniform tunic down from the neck and tossing it behind him. Then he
threw himself on top of her, clawing at her breasts as he forced his mouth
over her bloody lips.

A strong hand grabbed Revort by both neck and collar and pulled him off the
sobbing cadet. Starbuck threw Revort against the nearest shuttle, then
closed on him, delivering brutal body blows until the man began to crumble.
Starbuck straightened him up with a knee to the groin and finished with a
fist to the chin, the blow landing with a crunch. Then he stood panting and
rubbing his knuckles over the limp form at his feet. Finally he looked up.
"Take him away," he snarled to the waiting security guards, who obeyed
instantly and with no gentleness.

Starbuck went to Jenille's side. She was sitting up, holding her tunic to
her chest. Starbuck knelt and offered her a clean cloth to blot her
bleeding lips. "Are you all right."

Jenille nodded then took the cloth away from her lips. "Yes, yes, I am.
Thank you."

"It was nothing." Starbuck stood and went to a locker, quickly opening it
and removing a tunic. Handing it to her, he helped her stand up. Quickly
she pulled it on.

"So what do I do now?"

"Get on with your life."

Jenille nodded slowly. "Yes, that's what I need to do." She raised herself
on tiptoe and kissed Starbuck on the cheek. "It's not too late for you
either, you know." He stood still as she left, moving slowly past him. When
she was gone, he remained there, one hand raised to the cheek she had
kissed.

***

Apollo read the message delivered by express courier twice before dropping
it on the desk and leaving at a run, pushing a bewildered Boomer aside in
his haste. Boomer picked up the hastily discarded note and sat down to read
it:

I can't do this in person. I've tried every cycle for a secton. I love you.
If you are willing to try to love me one more time, please come to my
quarters. If it's too late for us, I understand.

Boomer leaned back, put his feet up on the desk, and smiled.

***

Several levels below Boomer, Starbuck stood as Apollo entered the room.
"Apollo, please, make love to me."

Apollo's eyes shone as he walked further into the room. "Oh, Starbuck, it
would be my pleasure," he said softly, his lips gently meeting Starbuck's
as the door closed silently behind them.

End.

    Source: geocities.com/jennylmr