**Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. It is not intended to in
any way infringe on the copyrights held by Universal Studios regarding
the television series Battlestar Galactica. This piece is not to be used
for profit in any way, but intended for fan enjoyment. Please respect
the author's wishes in this matter.

***WARNING***
Rating : PG-13
This story contains implicit or explicit (depending from your point of view) 
references to violent/sexual situation, as well as intense emotions.
It is not my intention to offend or hurt anyone with it or likely allusions to 
Real Life.
So please, if you don't like the story, and most of all if you find it 
disturbing for your sensibility, just don't read it.
Thanks.
--------------------------------------
 
Labyrinth of Souls
By Ale (aka CaptSheba)
 
The base on the planet was full of activity. The agrotechs were working 
feverishly around the last harvests and after long sectons, the people of the 
Fleet would have fresh vegetables. While the rivers of the planet have provided 
fresh fish, and the animals in the woods new meat, there would be a pleasant 
change in the monotonous rations.
The planet was not rich with tylium, but the commander had judged that the 
perfect environment for the cultivation's was worthy of a stop for some cycles. 
This would allow some rest for the exhausted ground of the two agroships in the 
Fleet.
Until that moment, there had not been problems with the little group of humans 
that the first exploratory mission discovered on the planet.
"That's incredible, right Bucko? Still alive after so many yahrens…" Boomer and 
Starbuck were coming back from a routine patrol among the inhabitants of the 
planet. 
"Hmmm, I'm wondering if the Commander would ask them to join us in our journey. 
They certainly don't know anything about Earth, and they wouldn't be useful for 
the Fleet…. But it's cruel to leave them on this primitive planet… in their 
condition…" Starbuck's grin was quite allusive.
"Bucko, this planet seems to me like a heaven with fresh air, woods, fields, 
rivers… Why would they want to leave it? I think that if any of the Council of 
Twelve would see this planet, Adama would have many problems to persuade them 
not to settle here…"
"Yeah, Boomer, but you're forgetting that it isn't big enough for all the Fleet 
… so we'll be at home soon once again, on our old lady the Galactica…"
They arrived at the command shelter, and Starbuck quickly entered the room, 
followed by Boomer. "Hey Apollo, guess what we've found! They haven't see a 
woman for thirteen yahrens, since they left the Colonies…." He fell silent 
immediately, feeling the tense atmosphere between those present. 
Even Boomer, ready to add his biting comment to Starbuck's statement, felt that 
something was terribly wrong.
While a medtech was dressing Greenbean's wounds, the Ensign was giving his 
report to Colonel Tigh and Apollo. The two Lieutenants knew their friend well 
enough to recognize at first sight that something awful was worrying the 
Captain.
"Starbuck, Boomer, come in," said the Colonel, not paying too much attention to 
the two, while Apollo signaled them to keep silent. "Greenbean, go on please … 
how many people did you see?"
"Sorry Colonel, they came upon us from behind our backs. I suppose they were 
four, or six, but I didn't have time to see anyone, nor to count them." The 
Ensign answered despite the great pain in his head. "I was suddenly struck on my 
head, and when I woke up, I was on the ground, without my laser, and all alone."
"Please, Greenbean, try to remember again," Apollo interrupted the young man, 
"It's impossible that you didn't hear some noise… steps…"
"There were chirping birds, animal screeches, and we were near the waterfall, so 
I think these noises covered their moves… don't know.... But Captain, about the 
only thing I'm sure, it was an ambush, a planned ambush… the place… the time… 
I'm sorry I wasn't able to help the Lieutenant … but I'm convinced they wanted 
her…"
"Why did you have this impression, Ensign?" Tigh asked. Losing a warrior some 
centars before the leaving of the Fleet from the area was a problem, but there 
was something else in Greenbean's report that did not sound right.
"Just my thought… She wasn't struck as I was, if … perhaps … wait … I remember 
that while I was falling down, I saw her grabbed by two men… if I remember 
correctly, they put something on her mouth, then … sorry, I can't remember 
more…" It was clear that the Ensign was really afraid.
"Ok Greenbean, that's enough. Now there's a shuttle leaving for the Galactica 
within ten centons, join it and immediately go to the Life Center," Tigh 
ordered, still wondering to himself if this was a sign of Cylon presence, but 
from Greenbean's report, it seemed only human hostility, as if escaping from the 
Cylons wasn't enough for them. "I want you to have a complete medical check up 
as you have received a heavy blow to your head … I think Dr. Salik will have you 
under his control for a cycle at least."
"Colonel, sorry, but we are wasting our time in my opinion. I request permission 
to immediately look for…" Apollo interrupted his superior officer. He had heard 
enough to know exactly what to do.
Starbuck and Boomer were being silent until that moment, trying to understand 
what had happened; and now that Greenbean had left the shelter, Boomer asked, 
"What happened? With whom was Greenbean on duty?"
"Someone has kidnapped Sheba," the Captain seemed to say in his quiet, 
professional tone, but both Starbuck and Boomer knew what this meant for him.
"We haven't heard any news for over three centars, when Greenbean came back with 
his report..." Apollo was relieved to see his friends, now he would have the 
best help to rescue Sheba. "You heard his report."
"Frack," Starbuck exclaimed. "It was too perfect until now…"
"Starbuck, there isn't time for complaining; what were you saying when you 
entered here? What did you discover about the habitants of this planet?" The 
dark-haired Captain needed all the information he could obtain.
Starbuck was extremely serious now because what a few microns before seemed to 
him a curious aspect in the life of the inhabitants of the planet now changed to 
a terrible danger.
Feeling embarrassment for his friend, Boomer answered, "Well, they are about 
twenty-seven, thirty people at most. They come from the Scorpia prison. They 
offered themselves as volunteers for an exploratory mission, and they were left 
on this planet to test if it was inhabitable for a long period. Their ship was 
probably destroyed, or something similar, because no one returned here until our 
patrol discovered them."
"I imagine that if they are still alive, they haven't seen Cylons here. But have 
they encountered other life form?"
"No, Colonel. No Cylons, nor other alien life signs," The black Lieutenant did 
not add that they had also tried to find some traces of the Pegasus. Especially 
Starbuck, who among the Galactica Warriors had always thought that Cain, had 
survived Gomorray. So every new discovery of human signs was not only the hope 
to find traces of the Thirteenth Tribe, but also a hope for a reunion with the 
second battlestar that survived the Destruction. Boomer was a bit incredulous 
about Cain's survival. He had never given his opinion to the others, because he 
knew how important it was for Sheba. He could never deny any one the only thing 
they could and must have in abundance during their difficult journey: hope. 
Anyway, it was a useless attempt, since no Colonial had visited this planet for 
yahrens. Now Sheba was missing, and for the micron, there were other priorities 
for the Pegasus Lieutenant. "Seems they weren't interested in the Destruction of 
the Colonies, because they had nothing to care for back home, but… well… they 
asked us a lot of questions about…."
"… About the Fleet, exactly… about the female warriors they saw … and how many 
women there are on our ship…" Starbuck continued "…It seemed the only thing they 
were interested in … our weapons, and the women…. It seemed only a funny joke at 
the time. They haven't seen a woman for thirteen yahrens, but now…. Well … I see 
this from a different point of view…."
The brash Lieutenant was feeling guilty about the whole situation. In the early 
morning, when Tigh assigned the task for the cycle, he was paired with Apollo, 
while Boomer was with Sheba. This was usual since Boomer and Sheba had become 
very good friends, as Starbuck was with Apollo. Well, everyone knew that Sheba 
was something more than a friend for Apollo, and more than the others Starbuck 
was glad for her positive influence on Apollo's life. However, when Apollo had 
to stay at the base camp for a last centon problem, Starbuck had made his 
personal changes to the daily shifts, so he went on duty with Boomer. The last 
time he saw Sheba, she was telling him some joke about female adaptability and 
how she was able to work with anyone, while Starbuck indeed seemed to not be 
able to have other work mates than Apollo or Boomer. Now Starbuck was wondering 
that if she had been with Boomer, things would have been different: Yeah, 
Greenbean is a good warrior, but he hasn't all the experience Boomer or Apollo 
and I have…
"Colonel…" Apollo was worried before hearing Starbuck and Boomer's report, but 
now a worse feeling was pervading his body.
Keep calm, he thought, you can't help Sheba if you aren't calm.
However, it wasn't easy: an unpleasant sense of foreboding was in his mind: he 
had to rescue her; he had to rescue her as soon as possible.
"Apollo, Starbuck, and Boomer go immediately to the place where Greenbean and 
Sheba were ambushed: your research starts there. I'll send you reinforcements 
very soon. Meanwhile, I will send back all the female personnel to the 
Galactica, as a precautionary measure. I don't want any more problems," Tigh 
said and noticed the strange look on Apollo's face. Knowing how much the Captain 
was close to Sheba, he added, "Apollo, I'm sure that Sheba is fine. I think they 
only want or exchange a hostage for weapons, or other supplies…"
"Thanks, Colonel. Now, if you would excuse us…" Apollo said, aware that every 
centon was important.
"Sure Apollo. Dismissed," Tigh watched the three warriors leave quickly and 
silently the shelter. "Good luck boys," he then added.
Something is telling me that we need all of my famous luck and a lot more… 
Starbuck thought, but he didn't utter his opinion aloud. He felt the same 
unpleasant foreboding as Apollo, and a quick glance at Boomer confirmed that 
they weren't the only two.
*************************
The three warriors went deep into the woods. They searched; and they found 
traces. They followed them, cautiously. Apollo had agreed not to go directly to 
the simple habitations where Starbuck and Boomer had made contact with the 
inhabitants of the planet. A Colonial Warrior had been kidnapped, probably by 
the same men that had received the two Lieutenants so warmly. For the micron, 
they did not need their help to find Sheba.
False friends they were. Human traitors are everywhere in the galaxy, Starbuck 
thought. Even if they were not sure about the identity of whom had attacked 
Sheba and Greenbean. Weak marks lead the men to the side of a mountain. Boomer 
recognized the entrance of a cave. Around them, the wood was throbbing of its 
usual life: birds and squirrels, the smell of the trampled grass and leaves, the 
persistent mumbling of a brook.
"Too easy," Starbuck said slowly, pointing to some broken branches right in 
front of the cave.
"Maybe," Apollo answered looking carefully around. "Yet, we don't have a choice. 
We must go in."
"We don't know what we will find inside, Apollo." Boomer knew there was not time 
to call for reinforcements. "So I suggest a quiet approach."
"Of course, I'll enter first, than you, Boomer. Starbuck, wait outside and cover 
us from behind."
"Just don't waste your time in tourism, buddies. It's too quiet here." The blond 
lieutenant took his position, while the other two disappeared in the obscurity 
of the cave, their blasters drawn.
The half-light of the tunnel soon revealed that they where near their target, as 
several torches lit the path. However, after some centons, they found 
increasingly secondary tunnels. At each corner, two or three different burrows, 
sometimes more, confused the two warriors. Especially because some torches were 
displayed everywhere, they could not follow just the signs of human presence. 
Bores and shafts. Most of the bores and shafts had been clearly bored by men, 
through the heart of the mountain. Yet, they did not seem like mines. Before 
going deeper and getting lost, Apollo called for Starbuck, and prudently, they 
proceeded along what appeared to be the main path.
"Must be some kind of refuge," the blond Lieutenant commented. "Too neat."
"Starbuck, where's your optimistic sense today?" Boomer asked, leaving another 
mark on the tunnel face. To the touch, it was almost soft; and he had soon found 
that was it very easy notching the surface with a sharp stone. Surely, it would 
not have been difficult to drill all those burrows into the mountain. He passed 
his hand on the wet wall, wondering what strange ore was causing that entire 
dampness. It was of a deep brown color, crossed by dark and yellow veins. "There 
is a water lode in this mountain," he murmured.
"Sorry, Boomer, no time for research, " Apollo said as he was trying to choose 
the right way looking puzzled at the three passages in front of them.
"My optimistic sense says that we're looking for trouble, Boomer," Starbuck 
comment as he stood next to Apollo. "However, my famous luck is with us." He 
grinned.
"So lucky boy, make your choice: right, left or center?" Apollo asked.
"Apollo, maybe it's better we split up and each of us follows one passage." The 
dark warrior suggested.
"No. As long as we are together, we can face anything, dangerous or not. I don't 
want to loose one of you, or myself in one of these tunnels. So Starbuck, what's 
your choice?"
"You're not giving up, uh?" The blond Lieutenant was observing the three 
entrances carefully.
"She's been here. The traces lead directly to this cave from the point where 
Greenbean said they had been ambushed." Besides, I _feel_ that she's been here, 
the Captain added to himself.
"Why you're not usually so confidant in my luck when we play at the gaming 
tables?" Starbuck looked uncertain between the center and the left shaft; then, 
after a last examination, he pointed resolutely toward their left. "This one. 
Let's go."
"Starbuck, we can't even stand in it. It's too low for a person," Boomer 
observed, marking again the wall with his stone, while his friend was already 
bent and inside the tunnel.
"Maybe, however she has been by," the blond Lieutenant answered, picking up from 
the dirty ground a small object, which was handed to Apollo.
"Her pin!" The Captain exclaimed, relieved and worried at the same time. "Let's 
move. She's trying to leave signs."
"Or someone else is drawing us into a trap," Boomer comment quietly as he 
entered the narrow passage.
"I know. Just be ready for an attack." Apollo ordered in a whisper, crawling 
slowly along the wet ground, his laser leveled, alert for any noise.
In succession, they crept silently for many centons, barely recognizing each 
other in the dim light. It was getting difficult to breathe, as evidently in the 
cramped corridor the air did not circulate too much. Their lungs started 
struggled for fresh oxygen, and when Apollo's sight dimmed for some microns, 
they stopped to rest for a bit in a wide niche of the wall.
"We have to stay here or maybe go back until we can get some air into our 
lungs," Starbuck proposed, not convinced, though.
"No. Whoever has built this tunnel had the same problem with breathing, and the 
same men who passed here some time ago with Sheba. The end can't be too far, in 
my opinion." The dark warrior replied, breathing heavily.
"Boomer's right. We're near our goal," a gasping Captain reaffirmed. "Whatever 
it is." It was more than the tiredness of crawling in the duskiness, Apollo was 
afraid of their minds being clouded by the lack of oxygen. In this situation, 
they needed all of their quick reflexes to react to the unknown dangers. As soon 
as he realized that they were closing their eyes, he pushed his friends, and he 
took up the strenuous path.
His knees were hurting, and the dark haired Captain could no longer sense his 
elbows scraping on the dump ground. The hand that was holding the blaster was 
aching all the way up to his shoulder. Anyway, something was pulling him toward 
the end of that tunnel. A clear presentiment that helped him to choose the right 
tunnel as they faced another fork. She was there, he knew. And she needed his 
help as soon as possible.
"Labyrinth!" He exclaimed nervously. "I've never liked the hedge labyrinths in 
the gardens of Caprica. I've never understood what my friends found so funny by 
getting lost for centars in them."
"Never frequented the upper classes that had those labyrinths in their gardens," 
Boomer commented from his back. "However, I knew my way in the maze of Caprica 
City suburbs. Especially when I had to run away from the security men."
"I'd bet it, Boom-Boom. Argh!" Starbuck suddenly stopped as he had rammed his 
head into a ceiling protrusion. "Worse than playing Triad against Ortega." He 
massaged his forehead for a few microns than followed the others. "And it's even 
worse than the Minotaurus labyrinth."
"What's that?" the dark lieutenant asked. "Another luxury game?"
"Not at all. It's an old Kobolian legend that frightened Boxey for several 
nights, after my father told it to him." Apollo explained, slowly proceeding. At 
least talking will help us to stay awake, he thought, stopping to breathe for 
the second time. "The first labyrinth was built to hide a monster, half human 
and half bull. The Minotaurus was the son of a beautiful Queen and of a holy 
animal. Yet, each yahren he wanted seven virgin girls and seven virgin boys, so 
that his fury would be placated. No one had ever returned from there to tell 
what happened in that labyrinth."
"Encouraging…" Boomer sighed. He was feeling the sleep-inducing effect of the 
lack of oxygen.
"We need to go now…" Starbuck urged the men.
They crawled on the hard ground, the polluted air heavy in their lugs, their 
bodies running with sweat form the movements and the dampness, the back sore by 
the unusual curved position. Slowly, they followed the tight tunnel, hoping to 
find the end soon.
The conviction to find Sheba drew Apollo on despite the obstacles. It was like a 
magnet, which pulled him toward the extremity of that labyrinth. He could hear 
the living nucleus of the mountain: silence broken only by drops ticking, the 
unnatural motionless heavy air, and the yellow veins on the wall. They were 
pulsing. It almost seemed that the yellow veins were following their heartbeats. 
Boomer was right. It was a particular ore. The yellow material was shaking 
rhythmically. Now that there weren't torches to brighten the place, he clearly 
noticed the vivid fluorescence of these yellow veins. It lightened their course, 
matching his accelerated pulse, turning up his apprehensions.
Frack, just clear your mind, Apollo, he told himself. Stop thinking of the 
fantasy description of the ancient labyrinth.
Anyway, it was like the worst imagination about hell. Starbuck and Boomer were 
thinking the same.
None of the three warriors knew how much their nightmares were going to become 
real. How much they were near a particular kind of hell.
****************
Finally, they saw again the illumination of many torches. The narrow shaft 
popped out into a large cavern. At the exit, the shadow of a man was against the 
light. Hidden in the darkness, from what they could see, he was checking the 
bars that divided the room in two different places.
In addition, one of them was a cell. There she was. Apollo immediately 
recognized the loved figure lying on the ground, unconscious. He signaled his 
orders with quick gestures, and in a flash the man was caught by surprise and 
immobilized by the three warriors. Starbuck took the cell key, and he opened the 
massive grill. The Captain rushed to her side.
"Sheba? Sheba! I'm here," he called her many times, gently shaking the woman to 
wake her up. There was not an immediate reaction from her, and all the while he 
observed her. Distinct indications on her body showed that she had been beaten: 
bruises on her face, scratches on her hands and some tears on her uniform. 
Apollo could easily bet that she had tried to defend herself with all her 
strength. He softly called her name again, "Sheba? My dear, please, open your 
eyes…"
"Apollo, come on. We haven't much time," Starbuck said to hurry the Captain, as 
he tied the guard.
Boomer was checking the large room and found another passage. "Here's another 
exit, larger than the one we passed through. However, we don't know where it 
goes…"
"It would be difficult to carry Sheba along the mine shaft if she can't walk," 
Starbuck noticed.
"We have to carry her because she's still unconscious," Apollo replied, " We'll 
have to go back the same way we arrived. We already know the passage and Boomer 
marked the route. The other one could probably lead to the exit, or maybe to the 
center of the mountain. We can't risk it." The two lieutenants nodded to his 
reasoning. Gently he passed his arm under her shoulders to lift her from the 
ground. "Let's go home, darling. Only a centar, and we'll be back on the 
Galactica."
"How is she?" Boomer asked helping Apollo to lift her up in his arms.
"I think she'll be fine after a good sleep and some cycles of rest. They are 
only bruises and scratches." He answered, placing her head on his chest. Holding 
her tightly to him, he started to forget all his previous concerns about her 
disappearance. Now they had to get back to the base, then to their battlestar.
"I see. Maybe you'll be able to stop her for more than one cycle!" The dark 
lieutenant said as he and the captain moved toward the narrow tunnel.
"Just put her in your bed, and I'm sure she wouldn't leave…" Starbuck teased his 
best friend, helping him to enter in the low passage.
"Starbuck! You're incorrigible. And it's no time for jokes." The Captain 
protested vigorously, with a smile that betrayed his amusement at the thought of 
spending some cycles alone with her and without the worries of their daily duty. 
As long as she wasn't seriously wounded, it could be a good pretext for a little 
furlong together, if Salik would recommended some cycles of health leave from 
military life. However, she had not acknowledged their presence, and he was 
getting very anxious about her unconsciousness.
Possible the movements of entering the small tunnel, despite Apollo's 
carefulness, woke her, as he heard her whisper, "Apollo? Where are we?"
"Hey, good morning." He smiled at her, even if in the darkness he was not sure 
if she could see him. "I'm bringing you back. How do you feel?"
"In pieces. I gave them a hard time, Captain." She said softly. She had 
recognized the tunnel where they had dragged her when she had been taken to the 
cell. After a moment of doubt, she hung down her head on his shoulder. She felt 
very tired, and her body was aching all over. Apollo's embrace was the only 
thing she needed at the micron. "And thanks for rescuing me, sir."
"You're welcome, Lieutenant." He could not talk anymore, as it was difficult to 
cover the tunnel with her in his arms. "What did they want?"
"Don't know. I fainted two or three times, I think. And when I was conscious, I 
tried to fight and escape. They didn't know they should knock me out with a 
fist." She closed her eyes trying to remember something more, but it was useless 
at this micron..
"I'm sorry." Apollo stopped for a micron to breathe.
"Don't mind now that you've rescued me." She tried to joke, while a pain grimace 
across her face. "Apollo, I can try to walk." She said, seeing his effort. 
"Anyway, I think I've dislocated my ankle while we were in the woods."
"No problem, it's just this damned tunnel." In spite of the dim light, he could 
see her pale face, and he felt that something was wrong. Probably Boomer and 
Starbuck, the first in front of him and the other following, had the same 
suspicion, yet for a different reason. The dark warrior suddenly stopped, 
signaling to the others to keep silent and motionless. They heard steps, better, 
they heard someone else creeping in the excavation. From behind, Starbuck heard 
voices in the room they had just left. Then, the vibrating sound of a gong 
echoed in the passage. Evidently, someone had discovered the tied guard and 
Sheba's disappearance, and he was giving the alarm.
"Frack!" The blond warrior murmured. "We're trapped!"
"Not yet, Starbuck. We stopped in a niche before, let's try to reach it and hide 
there." He glanced to his beloved that he was carrying. Sheba seemed to have 
fainted again. He wondered if what appeared as a simple swoon was indeed 
something more serious. He remembered seeing a wooden bowl in the cell, near the 
place where she was lying. Inside it was a strange red liquid. Hope she hasn't 
drunken some drug or poison, he thought. However, they had something else to 
worry about, since someone was coming near their position.
Crouched in the little niche, the three warriors could feel a silent presence 
approaching, shuffling along the tunnel getting closer and closer. Their 
blasters drawn and level, around them there was only obscurity, except for the 
ore of yellow veins on the walls. Apollo glanced at Sheba, leaning at the bottom 
of the recess, unconscious.
Starbuck too was watching Sheba, a serious look on his face. In any other 
occasion, he would have made some joke about the yellow color of their faces. 
What a wrong cycle, he thought. Trapped like a mus in a bottle. He pointed to 
the empty holster on Sheba leg, and he exchanged a meaningful look with Apollo: 
someone had removed Sheba's laser. Their enemy was armed with it.
Boomer was ready in the first position. They had no chance to pass unnoticed: 
the tunnel was too narrow even for one man, and it was impossible to not see 
four persons. He gestured to Starbuck to cover them from behind. At least from 
the room side, no one seemed to be arriving. Sure, he reflected, they want to 
push us back in the cave where they are waiting for us. They don't need to have 
us between two fires, we are already in the felgercarb.
The silence was broken again by the deep sound of the gong. This time, it was 
repeated at regular brief intervals. It was not the alert signal that they had 
heard before. It was a haunting sound, every micron stronger. The vibrations 
filled the duct, and rumbled in their ears, shaking their bodies. They tried to 
ignore its threatening message.
Then, the attack came. Arrows cleaved suddenly through the dump air. An old 
crossarm that they have seen only in their history books. They answered with 
laser fire, shooting to both sides of the tunnel. The arrows rain increased. To 
their surprise, they were not the direct target of that old crossarm. Their 
enemy was aiming at the walls. Specifically, he was aiming at the yellow veins 
on the walls around them. And to their amazement, as soon as each arrow pierced 
the mysterious ore, the mountain gave off a thick steam. They fired again. 
Meanwhile, the yellowish vapor spread in the niche all around them. Its intense 
smell pricked their noses and throats and filled their lungs. The gas was fizzy 
on their skin, smarting at contact. They coughed and they tried to wipe their 
watering eyes. They could not respond because of their dizzy heads. After 
sparkles and flashes filled their sight, the darkness swallowed up the Colonial 
warriors. Apollo, Starbuck and Boomer caught up with Sheba in her same abnormal 
slumber.
 
**************************
 
The bitter stench of the incense slipped into her nostrils, the bluish smoke 
made its way trough her throat to fill her lungs. A fit of coughing shook her 
body. "Open your eyes, woman," she heard someone ordering in a sharp tone. She 
tried to open her eyelids, blinking in the effort to scatter the fog in her 
mind. "Drink," she heard again. Then she felt the rough border of a wooden bowl 
on her lips. Her attempt to spit out the sickly liquid that was poured into her 
month was useless, as she couldn't breathe while the bowl was forced violently 
against her teeth. After another fit of coughing, her sight became almost clear.
"Frack! Stay away from me," she protested, trying to push the bowl away from 
her. Her wrists and ankles had been bound.
"Only for the micron, woman." She raised her head to see the man that had yet 
spoken. A red-haired squat figure knelt at her side.
Sitting near the massive grill of the cell where she had been just a few centars 
before, she looked carefully around the cave. Over the grill, a big fire 
crackled. Around it, two men, dressed with a mix of what a long time ago had 
been colonial clothes of the Twelve planets. The effect was a dirty and 
many-colored outfit. The two men were throwing fistfuls of a green powder on a 
brazier over the fire. From the bluish smoke resulting from the contact between 
the powder and the embers, she recognized the bitter incense that she had smelt 
before.
Other men were around the fire. About ten men, she thought. Her trained mind was 
yet scanning the surroundings searching for a possibly escape. In the center of 
the room, a stone table. Other men sitting on the ground near the entrance of a 
tunnel. On the wall, only torches and the gong that she remembered hearing 
before.
"What do you want?" she asked to the red-haired man in her best command tone, 
hoping to mask her fear.
"I'm not allowed to answer." He simply replied. Then he left her side to reach 
the others near the fire.
With difficulty, because of the laces, she turned her head to the inside of the 
cell. And she saw them. Apollo, Boomer and Starbuck. Unconscious.
Shackled to the wall at the bottom. Heavy chains around their arms and legs 
immobilized the three warriors in a standing position against the wall. She 
shuddered all over at the sight. For the first time since she had been 
kidnapped, she felt dread.
Sheba was still wondering if she should call to them or simply wait for them to 
reawake, when they would show signs of life. Boomer was the first to regain full 
consciousness. He was still trying to figure out what had happened, when 
Starbuck also opened his eyes. As soon as he realized he was in chains, he began 
to struggle against them, in vain.
"No way, Bucko," Sheba commented. "They seem too strong even for you."
"Sheba!" Boomer finally was able to see her. He had an awful headache, yet there 
was nothing he could do for it. "You ok? And you, Starbuck?"
"How could I be fine trapped here?" Starbuck replied angry.
"Thought it was a kind idea to ask, friend," Boomer said, turning his attention 
to Apollo, still senseless. "Apollo?"
"I'm quite ok, Boom," Sheba answered. She hadn't yet called to Apollo, then 
finally the dark-haired head raised from his chest. When she saw his deep green 
eyes on her, she felt the urgency to stand up and draw close to him.
She was immobilized, exactly as he was. Through his dull sight, the Captain 
sensed her gaze on him, and he looked at her. "Sheba?"
"I'm here Apollo, I'm here." She did not dare say more, as tears were wetting 
her eyes. Frack, frack, frack, she thought. Don't let your feelings get the 
better of you. It was something she had always feared: to be in a situation 
where their love would hamper their duty. She pushed her concern away, and she 
tried to be professional, even in this situation. "Seems we still have some 
problems."
"Yeah," Apollo still fixed his gaze on her. "However, Starbuck said we have that 
famous luck of his with us today." He tried to be reassuring.
"And it works better when you don't trust me so much," the blond Lieutenant quit 
fighting the chains resigned to accept his imprisonment.
His gaze recognized some of the men with whom he had talked with in the morning. 
His suspicions were right. The apparently harmless inhabitants of the planet 
were responsible for the ambush of Sheba and Greenbean.
"Keep cool," The Captain murmured looking around the cave. Apparently, no one 
was paying attention to them.
"We'll wait for our chance." Boomer confirmed confidently. As Sheba had checked 
before, his look was searching the room to find some way to escape. Yet, the 
thick chains, which shackled his wrists and legs, were a big obstacle to his 
plan.
When a group of men came out of the larger tunnel, all those present in the room 
stood up immediately, in silence. Among them, a tall person emerged from his 
figure: his long ochre tunic over the cream pants was clean in comparison with 
the others. Moreover, the strange borders of the tunic and the round medallion 
on his chest denoted his pre-eminent position. While he was approaching, Apollo 
noticed the respect, almost the fright that surrounded him. Starbuck's attention 
was drawn to his face: the large forehead, the sharp straight nose, and the deep 
gray hair. Evidently, this man cared for his person more than his companions 
did. The rare, serious wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, and especially the 
stiff line of his lips tightly-woven, showed to Boomer that they were in front 
of an iron will. He walked slowly in their direction, almost royally, Sheba 
thought. If he had not been among a forgotten group of jailbirds on a desert 
planet, he could have been a member of the Colonial aristocracy. A slimy smile 
crossed his face as he stopped near Sheba. The bars were opened, and he entered 
the cell.
"Let's see this treasure…" he commented, reaching his hand toward her hair, and 
touching it.
"Keep your hands off me," she said firmly, looking directly at his face.
A conceited laugh was his only reply.
"Who are you?" Apollo asked. "And why did your men imprison us?"
"_I_ am the one who asks the questions." The man replied irritated. "The sooner 
you learn that, the better." He walked around Sheba, examining her like a 
precious object during an auction. "However, you're right about one point. Those 
are _my_ men. When did she drink the nectar?" He asked suddenly to the men 
outside the cell.
"About thirty centons ago, Master," the red-haired man who had forced Sheba to 
drink from the wooden bowl answered. "When the sun was on the horizon line."
"Good," he approved. "Good." Then, he placed his hand on her head. Sheba moved 
her away head, as much as the position would allow her. "What do you want?"
The Master's face shone with joy, "You."
Apollo's heart gave a sudden beat, "Leave her!"
"Or what? You're not in a position to give orders." He looked at Apollo' 
shackled, "Captain."
"I said: leave her." Apollo stubbornly repeated. "In one centar or less there 
will be a squadron searching for us. Think of it." He really hoped that Colonel 
Tigh had sent another rescue team at the micron, since they had not reported to 
the base in over two centars.
Starbuck and Boomer were holding their breath: the situation was getting worse 
at each passing micron.
"Oh, yes, … the famous Blue Squadron from the Battlestar Galactica. I've some 
pending matters with all the Colonists. All of us have unsettled accounts with 
our brothers. The ones that imprisoned us, and that gave to us the only choice 
to be forgotten in space, just so that we could live."
His furious expression was right in front of Apollo.
The Captain could feel his breath on his face. Anyway, he tried to keep his 
self-control. "Your revenge on us is useless."
"Maybe. Maybe not, Apollo."
Apollo was surprised to hear his name coming from the man's lips. Then he 
remembered that they had been on the planet for three cycles, and this wasn't 
the first contact between the Galactica team and the group. Probably he had 
heard it somewhere or from someone, he thought. "May I have the pleasure to know 
the name of whom I'm talking to?"
"I'm the Master," The man turned his back to him. "It's enough."
"Not for us," Starbuck could not keep silent. Besides, the so-called Master was 
returning near Sheba.
"Shut up!"
Starbuck could not say how fast the Master came back to him, as he was hit by a 
strong fist to his jaw. He felt the sweet taste of his own blood in his mouth, 
"Bastard!"
This time, the Master's reply was a single blow to the Lieutenant's chest. 
Gasping and searching for air for his lungs, Starbuck could only heard Boomer's 
and Apollo's energetic protests. He didn't see the three men that entered the 
cell to punish them in the same way because of their vain attempts.
"Stop them!" Sheba cried to the Master.
"What?" He looked at her unmoved.
"_Please_, stop them." She choked on the impulse to spit at him.
"Gag the warriors." The Master ordered. "So we can't hear their pathetic 
protests."
Still aching from the blows to their bodies, Apollo, Starbuck and Boomer were 
gagged. In vain, they continued to revolt against their capturers.
The chains were tightened even more around their wrists. However, more than the 
cold grip of the irons against their flesh, the horrible thought of what was 
going to happen rent their hearts. Unfortunately, they had not lost 
consciousness in the uneven struggle. They had to witness whatever that man had 
in his mind.
The Master turned back to look at them only once. "Welcome to Sphage."
Then he pointed to Sheba, and gave orders to his men, "Take her." He walked 
toward the stone table, "Here."
Sheba felt the firm grip of two sets of hands on her arms.
No noise broke the silence that filled the cave.
They untied her wrists and legs.
For the men, a silence loaded with desire and anticipation.
She took advantage struggling to free herself.
For Apollo, Boomer and Starbuck, a silence fraught with danger and fear.
A direct fist hit her nose. For Sheba, a silence burdened with increasing 
terror. She reeled at the blow.
"Wait!" the Master, shouted at his men. "You're spoiling her."
She didn't know how many men dragged her outside the cell. She sensed only their 
hands clenched on her body, no matter how she fought. As one of them lifted her 
on the table, she tried to kick him in his lowest parts. Her cheek reddened at 
the slap she received.
"I said you're spoiling her in this way!" the irate voice of the Master shouted 
again. Then he turned his attention to Sheba, "And as long as you act in this 
way, you won't go unpunished."
"You won't have me so easily," she replied icy. Her mind was frantically 
thinking of some reaction, of some way to escape, refusing to bow to the 
evidence.
"We'll see." It took only a micron for the Master to nod to a young blond man on 
his side. Immediately the blond boy drew his bow, and shot his arrow toward the 
cell. His target was not very far in the distant.
As soon as Sheba saw the fast arrow skimming Apollo's left ear, and moving his 
dark hair, she knew she had been condemned: her for them.
"So Captain, this is my reply to your previous statement. My revenge on you is 
worth yahrens of waiting. Your people owe me so much…" The Master stroked slowly 
her neck.
The only thought that came to her mind was a light impression of surprise. "Him? 
Why exactly Apollo?" She wondered. Anyway, he was the Captain. Maybe this was 
the only reason for the man's choice. She opened her mouth to say something, but 
the man's hand went up her tender neck, to soon squeeze it. She could only pant 
for air, while the sweaty hand forced her face in the direction of the three 
warriors.
"Look!"
One of the jailbirds was in the cell at Starbuck side. As his friends, the blond 
Lieutenant had his arms chained high above his head. His blue eyes lighting with 
anger, he instinctively withdrew back to wall, as the man pointed a weapon to 
his temple. It was one of their lasers, and it wasn't in the stun position. The 
Master nodded, and the man hit him violently on his head with the laser butt. 
Starbuck grunted, then he shook his head despite the stabbing pain, as he didn't 
care.
>From nowhere, another man appeared near Boomer, and a small dagger was suddenly 
at his throat. The dark warrior sensed the cold blade on his skin; yet, he 
didn't even glance toward him. He only breathed heavily.
Again, the Master nodded, and the man barely pushed the blade against his 
throat, just enough to let some drops of blood redden the brown flight jacket. 
The dagger had been stopped just in time. Boomer stayed motionless, still 
ignoring the man at his side.
Then, the blond boy with the bow took an arrow from his quiver. He dipped its 
metallic point in the fire, and after some centons, he entered the cell. He made 
for Apollo, and he stared at the Captain. Slowly, he put the white-hot point 
close to Apollo's eye, and he waited the Master's sign.
Apollo fiercely gazed at the Master, silently challenging him.
The Master smiled, and nodded once more.
The blond boy brought the scorching arrow closer to the green pupil. Apollo 
could not avoid closing his eyes. Then, with an unexpected and quick movement, 
the point cut with its sharp side one dark lock of his hair. The typical smell 
of singed hair propagated the room.
The Master turned his attention to Sheba, still squeezing her neck, just enough 
to let her breathe laboriously. "Have you seen, my dear? Next time, my men will 
go to the end."
He released her neck, and he took the dark hair lock that the blond boy handled 
to him. He went to the brazier, and he threw it among the embers.
Sheba saw him sipping a blue liquid from an engraved silver goblet, and then he 
looked at her eagerly, in anticipation.
***************************
Hair pulled by the roots.
Sheba wanted to scream; yet, no sound was coming from the back of her
throat.
She looked at the Master approaching. She felt the panic grabbing her
chest.
Heart wanting to stop, lungs unable to breathe, stomach getting twisted.
Unfortunately, the man did not intend to kill her.
Her mind froze. Thoughts, feelings and emotions paralyzed.
She clenched her fists until her nails stuck into her flesh.
Instinctively, she turned her face toward the cell, unconsciously
searching the help of her friends.
She found Apollo's gaze. In the deep of those green eyes, her own
desperation was reflected. In the last gleam of clearness, she prayed to
the Lords of Kobol for him.
- Please, give him courage to withstand this. To forget it. -
And she turned her head away, breaking the last, thin thread that linked
them by their looks.
Someone was tearing off her pants. Maybe her shirt too. Her sensations
were coming all to confusing to the brain.
She only sensed the coarse stone under her silken skin.
Some dressings fell to the ground.
She guessed the Master was near her by now, as she felt a strange,
wrapping smell of oils and balsams.
His face was in front of hers at this micron. Those eyes were scanning
her for her reactions. Sheba was quite winded by them. Brown eyes with
green and dark shades. Biting and elusive, yet ruthless.
When his thin lips touched hers, she could not denied them. She had been
already mesmerized by those eyes. She had already been kissed by those
lips.
"Keep calm, my Princess."
She had been fooled by that voice before.
She didn't need to hear his whisper to recognize him.
There was no salvation.
Once, she had read that when someone dies, his spirit hovers over his
body for a bit, observing his human shell, and what, and who is around
him in the last moment. Finally, the spirit leaves flesh and bones for a
higher destination.
In that micron, her spirit left her body, in the vain attempt to ignore
what was going to happen to it. It was like observing herself from the
opposite side of the mirror. However, it wasn't death.
What was it?
Fright. Humiliation. Ache. Torture.
And a lot more.
The crackling of the fire.
The dampness of drops gliding down the walls.
The excited panting of the men observing.
His hands in her soft hair, the Master glanced at her brown rolled eyes.
"You had been mine. You are mine. You will be mine."
Until finally, the last sparkle of her mind capitulated to the turmoil of her
sensations, and yielded to the dark oblivion.

*******************************
 
A cycle after, the situation was worse. The Colonel and some other warriors were 
at the top of a hill, where they could easily control the valley below: 
somewhere, among the luxuriant vegetation, there were his men.
"Frack, how is it possible that four of our best warriors were ambushed and 
imprisoned by a small group of old jailbirds?" Tigh was wondering, while he was 
waiting for Apollo and Boomer. He had to admit to himself that the view was 
attractive, especially for a man who had spent the last yahrens on the bridge of 
a battlestar. Nevertheless, it wasn't the time to enjoy the scenery from his 
professional point of view; the river below was only a possible fight way. The 
high trees and the green bushes were a good hiding place and the steep slope in 
front of the hill a dangerous fire placing.
The first exchange with the rebels was made: clothes and technical supplies in 
exchange for Apollo's and Boomer's release.
The Colonel hated to come to terms with those people, but according to Adama, it 
was the quicker and simpler way to solve the situation. After Sheba, Apollo, 
Starbuck, and Boomer were imprisoned. There was not the time to send a rescue 
team for them as the Fleet had to leave the area very soon. Captain Bojay and 
his patrol had discovered near traces of Cylon activity. The team on the planet 
had only two centares to leave and join the Fleet, which could not wait further.
The worse is that if only they had asked, Adama would not have refused them 
anything in his abilities to help them … Tigh reflected, when finally, through 
the dusk of sundown, he recognize Apollo and Boomer approaching his position. 
His diligent mind noted that the dim light was another reason to quickly leave 
the planet, which had two suns, but no moon. 
Even if the night went on for only five centares, the complete darkness was more 
of an obstacle for the release of the other two warriors. The enemies could take 
advantage of it; while for the Colonials it would be a perfect moment to leave, 
if some Cylon patrol was near the system.
With a sigh of relief he observed that Apollo and Boomer were not injured, but 
when they were next to him, he noticed the red marks around their wrists and the 
tears around their ankles which were unmistakable signs of chains. Nevertheless, 
those injuries did not require the immediate attention of Dr. Salik. 
What indeed seemed wrong was the expression on the faces of the warriors. At 
first sight, he would have said that they were in shocked, but it was not the 
right description. From their looks, he felt a pain, a hopeless grief coming 
from the deepness of their souls. 
Tigh had not ever seen this upset look on Boomer's face, except when he came 
back from Caprica, after the Destruction, when he had learned that none of his 
family had survived the Cylon attack. But now… it was different, there was a 
note on his face of … desperation. They were almost near him, when he remembered 
that he had already seen Apollo in this way: the cycle when Serina died.
"Apollo, Boomer… glad to have you back," he tried to keep his voice normal.
"Colonel, is there a medical shuttle ready? We must take Sheba back to the Life 
Center as soon as possible." There was an indefinable sound in Apollo's voice: a 
sound of defeat.
"Yes, Apollo, it's all ready…"
"And why didn't you hand over the weapons they asked for?" Apollo interrupted 
visibly upset. "Why…." He was almost yelling now.
"They are on the way Captain, in a few centons Sheba and Starbuck should be 
released. Keep calm, I know it was a bad experience," the Colonel answered, 
greatly surprised by the way Apollo was acting, and he decided to give him a 
chance to explain his behavior. "Now, if you would tell me what happened…"
"You want to know, Colonel? Really are you sure you want to know?" Apollo raised 
again his voice; it was not his habit to speak to the Colonel in this sarcastic 
way.
"Colonel, would you forgive the Captain, please…" The Lieutenant stated. "But 
really Tigh … you can't imagine…" Boomer lowered his face, unable to continue to 
speak. It was so difficult to explain, and then, was there an explanation for 
it?
"Colonel, we can see them now. We have the group under surveillance," a warrior 
interrupted suddenly.
"Signal. Give them the box with the weapons. Don't, I repeat, don't do anything 
that could be dangerous for Sheba and Starbuck," Tigh ordered. "Wait until they 
are behind our lines, then follow the plan." His next words remained back in his 
throat, when he saw with his range-glasses the two warriors, in a little open 
space along a sharp bend of the river. With some difficulties, he focused the 
imagine.
Leaning against a rock, threatened by their own lasers from the jailbirds, 
Starbuck had the same red signs around his wrists as Boomer and Apollo. His 
right arm was around Sheba's waist, he was holding her, whispering in her ear.
Even if he could not hear his words from that distance, Tigh knew that Starbuck 
was trying to keep the woman conscious. The woman: only from her long brown hair 
could he recognize Lieutenant Sheba.
Apollo and Boomer were both looking at the scene as someone had given to them 
other range-glasses, and Tigh was not able to decipher their looks.
 
Hold on Sheba, please … Lords of Kobol help her until we can get back to the 
Galactica, and to the Life Center…. Apollo was praying in his mind, unable to 
look at anything else but Sheba's face. Her long brown hair … her brown eyes … 
he couldn't see the eyes … but he could feel on his face her bruises, on his 
body her injuries … in his heart her sorrow … Please, let her live … he 
whispered again.
 
What Apollo was feeling with all his being, with all the power of his love, 
Starbuck was feeling with his body, holding Sheba close to him, feeling her warm 
blood on his chest, soaking his uniform.
"Hold on Sheba, hold on my friend," he was whispering in her ear, trying to 
convey to her some feeling of safety, of calmness. "You see, everything is going 
to be all right … soon we'll be back on the Galactica, and there Salik and 
Cassie will take care of you…" With his free hand he placed delicately her head 
again on his shoulder, and taking away some locks from her forehead, he fondled 
her hair, as parents do with their sobbing children. "Go on Lieutenant … you're 
a strong warrior … let them see how stubborn we are…" he didn't see any reaction 
from her. "Come on Sheba … Apollo is waiting for you … and I bet a secton pay 
that tomorrow you'll have a romantic date with him on the Rising Star…" but even 
Apollo's name could not provoke any response from the woman.
Damned boys, what are you waiting for? He thought; she won't be alive within one 
centar without medical support.
"Come on, Sheba … only a few more centons … everything is going to be all right, 
my friend, I promise you," he continued sweetly, hoping sincerely to keep his 
word.
In that micron, he would have exchanged with pleasure all his famous charming 
and winning dialogues of womanizer with a sign that she was still conscious, 
still alive.
Please, Lords of Kobol, please let her live … he prayed with the same words that 
Apollo, Boomer and Tigh were repeating in their mind.
********************
"We are ready for her, shuttle Gamma. See you on the landing bay." Dr. Salik's 
voice was the only sign of normality in the medical shuttle that was returning 
the four warriors back to their battlestar.
Sheba had received the first treatments, and she was laying on a stretcher, 
while in the Life Center everything was waiting for her, Salik was ready with 
his team for the emergency surgical operation she needed.
A desperate Apollo was holding her hand near his cheek, listening to every 
difficult breath from her.
Starbuck and Boomer were silently looking at the two lovers, their dear friends. 
No one had the courage to speak a word, nor when the med-techs had asked how she 
was injured, only a deep silence had been their answer.
Sheba felt with her fingers the one cycle beard on Apollo's cheek. How she 
recognized Apollo, she could not say; but in those few microns, there are times 
when the heart recognizes what the eyes cannot see. She tried to move her 
fingers, and to open her eyelids, but her hand would not react to her efforts, 
and a sharp pang in her chest let her crash down again into the darkness.
A weak moan was heard from the woman.
"Captain, excuse me, but it's better if you leave her hand alone as both her 
wrists are broken," The med-tech gently said to Apollo.
A lively image of two men who were holding the woman by her arms crossed the 
mind of the three pilots.
"I … I didn't know … I wasn't aware…" a confused Apollo replied, leaving 
tenderly her hand on the white sheet. Fondling her soft hair he said, "Sorry my 
love, I'm so sorry…"
He was not just begging her pardon for only her broken wrists.
************************
On the Galactica, in the corridor in front of the Emergency Room, Apollo, 
Starbuck and Boomer found Adama waiting for them.
As Starbuck had promised, Salik and Cassie were taking care of Sheba, and after 
their own quick treatment, the three pilots were waiting for further news.
Adama was relieved to see his son alive, as well as Boomer and Starbuck. Tigh 
had already told him that he had not been able to find out from the three 
friends what happened during their captivity.
While he was hugging his son, Adama noticed his worried look, his wild eyes.
"Apollo, Sheba will be fine very soon. Salik is our best doctor, you know…" He 
tried to comfort him, but from what Tigh had told him, he could only share his 
concern about the woman that he had learned to love as his second daughter.
"Starbuck, Boomer, I hope you're okay…"
"Thanks, Commander," Boomer was the first to reply to the Commander's words. He 
seemed the only one to still have some self-control and clearness of mind in 
this occasion. "But our safety isn't important now…"
"There are wounds that Dr. Salik can't treat…" Apollo was saying in a whisper, 
as he wasn't listening to the dialogue between Boomer and his father.
"I'm sure that if the Lords of Kobol…"
"The Lords of Kobol father? Where were they, our powerful Lords, when Sheba 
needed their help?"
For the first time in his life, Adama saw Apollo's strong faith, his same strong 
faith, wavering. What had happened on that planet to change Apollo's faith?
"My dear son, I've heard this question many times," his voice was calm and firm. 
He saw Starbuck moving away shaking his head with incredulity at these words, 
but he turned his attention toward his son. "And you know that no one has the 
answers you're asking for…" he put his arm on Apollo shoulders. "Perhaps if you 
would tell me what…"
In that moment, Dr. Salik came out of the operating room.
"Doctor, how is Sheba?" Apollo asked in a flash.
The Doctor knew very well that this was the worse task of his profession. "In my 
opinion, her condition is still critical…"
However, she's still alive, Apollo thought.
"I'm sorry Captain."
How many times do we have to say I'm sorry, today … the Captain sadly reflected.
"We treated the fractures of the wrists and of the ribs, but she has lost a 
great quantity of blood, and perhaps we must remove her spleen, because she has 
heavy internal hemorrhaging." The Colonies offered the best for the warriors who 
risked their lives every cycle to protect the Twelve Worlds. The technologies of 
the Galactica Life Center were the best of the medical science at the micron of 
the Holocaust. Yet, even with those advanced technologies, Sheba condition was 
not easy to treat. "It wasn't a simple beating, was it?"
A vivid memory of violent kicks against her chest, her back, her whole body 
flashed before Apollo's eyes, while he was slowly answering, "No Doctor, … it 
wasn't…" Then he lost his mind to painful memories.
Seeing he was not able to obtain more information from the Captain, the Doctor 
turned his attention toward Starbuck and Boomer. "Listen to me. Sheba is still 
alive, and she has a good chance to survive, but I really need to know what 
happened to her. This information will assure the best treatments and exams she 
needs…"
Their silence was becoming irritating, especially now that Tigh and Captain 
Bojay had joined the group in time to hear Salik's words.
Apollo was aware that it was the only way to help his beloved Sheba, but to say 
these words would mean turning into reality what indeed he and his friends had 
hoped was only their worse nightmare. How had it been possible?
Adama was almost ready to give a direct order to speak about the incident to the 
three warriors. He could understand that something awful was preventing them 
from telling the truth, but now their reluctance was more dangerous for Sheba's 
life than that what happened on the distant planet.
"She was raped, Doctor." Apollo heard Starbuck's voice, and looked directly at 
the understanding blue eyes of his best friend. There were yahrens of a close 
friendship in that look.
The Cylon Leader its self, walking along that corridor of the Galactica, would 
not have caused as much of a great shock, as they heard from Starbuck's simple 
words.
"I see," Salik wasn't able to add more, and he returned to his patient, ordering 
new exams to the other med-techs. This was a completely different case, compared 
to the usual warriors wounded in action or in some crash-landing. He would ask 
for further details after the new check-up on Sheba's condition.
A deathlike silence lasted only a few centons, but they seemed longer than the 
Ten Thousand Yahrens War did.
The familiar sounds of the living battlestar were their only consolation in that 
stunned moment: the light vibrations of the engines recognizable by a trained 
ear, distant orders from the speakers of the bridge, yells and laughs from the 
Officer Lounge, jokes and snores from the pilots barracks, the powerful turbos 
of the Vipers in the landing bay, whispers and steps from the Life Center, and 
the mechanical curt puffs of the respirator that was keeping Sheba alive.
In some way, life was still going on.
Adama spoke first, "I'm sorry boys, I'm very sorry for Sheba and for you … I had 
no idea…" It was difficult even for the Commander to find the right words, but 
he knew there were not any right words.
"It isn't necessary father, Sheba doesn't need apologies now, she only needs all 
the love and the support of our family…" Apollo said in a broken voice, then he 
moved away from the group, near the door of the room where Sheba was, as if his 
presence could help her.
Knowing his son so well, Adama could not do anything else than let him alone, 
for that micron.
Tigh asked looking at Starbuck and Boomer, "When did it happened? Perhaps it 
would be easier, if you would speak about it…" Both Adama and Tigh knew that 
they didn't need professional reports. In that micron, they were only a father 
and a friend for the three pilots, and the only way to offer their help was 
probably to persuade them to speak about what happened, to express their 
feelings.
"It happened last night, when we were there … imprisoned … we found her in a 
cell … we were under the fire of our lasers … in chains … they threatened to 
kill us if…" Starbuck was not able to be logical in his account. It was strange 
enough that he was the first to speak. Usually, in the unpleasant situations, he 
let Apollo, or Boomer give the bad news; but now, he was conscious that it was 
the only way to spare Apollo the sorrow of telling the story himself…
"We couldn't do anything, they were too many…" Boomer continued, immediately 
interrupted by Bojay, who snapped out from his state of shock.
"You couldn't do anything?" The voice of the Pegasus Captain was full of anger. 
"And you Captain Apollo?" The blond pilot spotted fast his target. "What have 
you to say about this? Still proud of being the Commander's son, the best 
warrior of the Fleet? So, how did you help your beloved Sheba?" He took some 
steps in Apollo's direction, lighting flashed from his eyes, a contemptuous 
expression on his face.
"That's enough, Captain." Both Tigh and Adama ordered, but it was too late, and 
if Starbuck and Boomer had not been between the two Captains, Bojay probably 
would have hit Apollo with his fist.
"Calm down, Bojay," Boomer said, holding him tight by his left arm.
"Or we'll took our anger out on you," Starbuck threatened, grabbing his other 
arm.
"Your anger? Go speak to Sheba about it, if you can. She's in the right 
condition for a friendly chat!" he shouted back. "Thanks to you three." He 
added, only able to think of his dear friend. Even if he had not seen her, he 
knew that this was the worse micron of her life. Neither the presence of the 
Commander and the Colonel could stop his fury.
"We weren't on a pleasure trip, buddy, if that's what you think," Starbuck 
replied icily this time.
"I care nothing for you and for your friends, I know only that you were there, 
and you did nothing, or she would be fine now," Bojay tried to wriggle free of 
their firm hold.
"Stop it, or you'll need Salik attention, too!" Rarely had they seen Boomer so 
calm, but so hostile in his tone. It was from his youth on the streets of 
Caprica City, where he had to learn early how to defend himself. He was not so 
determined to fight against another man unless push beyond certain limits.
"Leave me. I'm still your superior officer!" Bojay's voice was clear and firm. 
"And then, I think your dear friend is able to defend himself, even if it seems 
that he has lost his tongue back on the planet." He glanced directly at Apollo's 
eyes, speaking in such a defiant and abrupt way.
After this swift exchange, Adama and Tigh were intervening to stop them, 
wondering if they would have to call Reese and the Security guards, when Apollo, 
waking up from his apathy, said resolutely, "Leave him. He's telling the truth."
All those present turned their eyes upon him, as he answered their unspoken 
question, "You're right, Bojay."
"You bet I am." The Pegasus warrior exclaimed harshly.
Apollo ignored his comment, and ended, "I deserve all your contempt. I wasn't 
able to help her, not as her Captain, nor as her fiancé."
***************************
The cold light of the Life Center corridor was offending Apollo's eyes, while he 
was sitting, waiting for some words from Dr. Salik. However, his green eyes were 
blind to what was around him, lost in the tide of memories.
He did not feel Starbuck's presence, next to him, neither the reassuring Boomer 
who was in front of him.
Anyway, both his friends were as silent as he was. The three of them could have 
reflected their thoughts in each other mind. As their friendship was that close… 
Yet in that micron, even their closeness was helpless in face of the situation.
Starbuck was nervously pacing the gray panels of the floor in front of the 
Emergency Room. He had counted every spot, every crack on it. He was not able to 
sit as Apollo or Boomer especially not after being with Sheba during the last 
hours on the planet. He felt responsible for what happened.
Starbuck glanced to Apollo. He saw only his dark hair, the head lowered on his 
chest. However, in his mind, Starbuck saw the green eyes of his friend as they 
watched him when they were divided. A direct, long gaze which said more than a 
million words. A dumb question, a prayer that Apollo asked in name of their deep 
friendship. An answer, a firm promise that he silently made. 
Somehow, the humans knew that taking away Apollo would have been the worst 
injury to her. As they also knew that Apollo's presence would have been the most 
painful affront to her. Starbuck had tried. Only the Lords of Kobol knew how 
much he had tried to help her. But he wasn't a med-tech, or a doctor. Next time 
he would attend Cassie's emergency courses for the warriors.
He glanced toward the door, still closed, without a sign from Cassie or Salik. 
Something is wrong. Or Cassie would have already told us if Sheba was okay. 
Sheba. Even if he had changed his uniform, he still felt her blood on his skin. 
He still had her pale face before his eyes. He turned his back on the Emergency 
Room, as if he could forget the last three cycles. This sort of thing happens, 
he tried to explain to himself. It's our job. We risk our lives for every 
mission. And this time was Sheba's turn. However, he wasn't convinced by his own 
cynical tone.
Frack! They were happy when they had been assigned to the ground team. Like 
children before a picnic on the gentle hills of Caprica. Finally, a simple 
mission. Almost a holiday, down on that nice planet, which seemed harmless. What 
a felgercarb of a mission, instead.
"One way mission?" he heard Sheba's voice, many distant cycles ago, in the 
barracks of the Galactica.
"Ah ah! No offence lady, but this kid doesn't go on one way missions," he 
remembered walking over to her. It was only the first time he was going to 
intervene in a disagreement between Apollo and Sheba. That stubborn girl!
"I'm sorry, I was just being a realist," she stated as she looked directly into 
his eyes. She was determined to go on Gomorray with them.
"A realist?" How could he have forgotten Apollo's and Boomer's faces in that 
moment? The kind of "let's see how you deal with this Commander's daughter" 
look. "If we were realists we'd all be dead back on Caprica." With nonchalance, 
he went to the locker and he pulled out a rucksack, asking: "Where's the 
medtech? I'd like to get started."
"We're not taking one," the snapping tone of Sheba would become familiar for him 
during the next sectars.
"What?" He was surprised. A woman that was able to surprise the great Starbuck? 
Not good, especially if she's your partner during a dangerous mission. However, 
she had surprised him since the first time they met. Well, surprised. Not 
really. She and her wingman had almost blew him and Apollo out of the skies!
"We're not going to have any time to stop for the wounded," it was her time to 
fiddle with the buckles on her rucksack, with nonchalance too. "We've only 
millicentons to get in and out as it is."
He addressed her with his best smile. "Okay. My kind of mission. Short." Do you 
want to play with me, girl? Let's play.
She smiled mischievously, "I do see what you mean, you're an optimist."
That smile. Remembering it, he could easily understand why Apollo had fallen in 
love with her. That smile and the way she tipped her pretty head. He could not 
resist, and he raised his eyebrows. Is this the game you want to play? I'm the 
best for it.
"Er hem," and he started to flirt, "Look would you like to make a little side 
bet that we come back?"
She took up the gauntlet, "What's the side bet?" She was able to flirt, too, and 
she smiled again to prove it.
"Well," he looked back to Apollo and Boomer, who were quietly enjoying the 
scene, "Why don't we make it something real.... personal?"
"Bad idea, Lieutenant," she easily prepared her last lunge, amused with the 
situation, "You wouldn't want me to throw the mission just to avoid the bet?" 
And she turned away toward the door.
Boomer and Apollo were trying not to smile too much. Starbuck had found a tough 
target this time.
Just before she got to the door, she turned again and her eyes twinkled at 
Starbuck over her shoulder. He could not avoid feeling, and certainly looking, 
very nonplussed.
"I was just being a realist," Starbuck was still hearing her words. "…You're an 
optimist." You bet I am my friend. He glanced again to the door of the Emergency 
Room. And I have to be one now. He met Boomer's eyes for an instant. We all 
must.
While Starbuck was not able to keep calm, Boomer was immobile in front of where 
Apollo was sitting. He was standing near the door from where Salik would come 
out from the emergency room. His dark eyes were open in narrow slits as he was 
trying to put some order in his emotions. Only his right hand toying with the 
laser belt was a sign of how nervous he was. However, inside him, the blizzard 
of his thoughts was difficult to handle.
If only I had been with her… They had often been on duty together, in the last 
sectars. And they were a good team. In their vipers when they had led the 
squadrons against the Cylon basestar; on patrol, when they had sometimes taken 
the place of Starbuck and Apollo; or when they had escorted Adama to some 
Council meeting. Or during one of those boring missions in the Fleet with the 
shuttle. Well, not all were so boring. There had been one long, interminable 
mission as shuttle pilots. A mission when they had been in great danger. In 
addition, that mission had been the very beginning of their friendship.
"My father would have killed Baltar as soon as he came on his battlestar." 
Boomer smiled as her proud words came back from the fog of his memories. He 
could still feel the friendly touch of her hands on his shoulders.
"Maybe, but how with you as a hostage?" How with you now? He could not avoid 
thinking. What if Cain had been here?
Maybe she would have answered with the same resolute assertion. "He has always 
known I'm a warrior, and I risk my life every day." Fortunately, Baltar and the 
men of the Eastern Alliance were not paying attention to them.
"Sure, that easy to say when you were in a viper. But this is different." Yeah, 
this is very different, to be the hostages of some fool group. "He would want to 
try everything possible to save not only you, but the rest of the hostages 
before killing Baltar." Even if Boomer was sure, that Sheba was hoping that 
Baltar and the others would listen. Just for the pleasure to argue with them. It 
was her nature.
"You're right." But maybe he was wrong. She was only trying to comfort him, and 
herself, with the sound of her words. "I'm really missing him a lot." How much 
does she miss her father at this moment? "I mean, I like Adama and his way to 
command and lead the Fleet. But the life on the Pegasus was different..."
"In what way?" And maybe she was right. It was only a way to keep calm. In a 
whisper, she replied, "Don't know if it's the right time to talk about it." When 
would the right time to talk about these last cycles come?
"Why not now? I'm a good listener." Besides, she was talking about a period of 
her life that, Boomer knew well, she never like to talk about. And he was really 
a good listener.
"Oh, I've always had this impression, Boom." This was only the first of many 
heartfelt chats between them. "Well, guess we have nothing better to do right 
now." They both looked to the monitor: no transmission from the Galactica 
bridge. Moreover, behind them, Baltar and Commander Leidter were only talking 
about the Cylon Empire, next to the back door. So she continued. "Ok. The 
Pegasus was … exciting; it was a challenge every day. First, it was a challenge 
for me to be accepted among the pilots." Challenges. She had always liked 
challenges. "You know, it isn't easy to be Cain's daughter, especially on his 
battlestar."
"Well, sure I see what Apollo been through, but I'm not sure about a daughter." 
He understood that she was trying to open her heart to him, but she was still 
indecisive about it.
"Let me explain something about being Cain's daughter, Boom." She softly 
laughed. "Of course it is different from being Adama's son." That laugh. Wish I 
could hear her laugh again.
"Of course." How could he forget Cain?
"First, everyone thinks that you're as hard as the Juggernaut. And they don't 
understand that it's only because *they* force you to defend yourself from their 
malice." Sheba, Sheba, what have these men's wickedness done to you? "Then, they 
think you're the spoilt daughter of the great Commander Cain. And that you were 
assigned to the Pegasus only because he's your father." Did you come to the 
Galactica only to die here, my dear?
"You'll have to tell me how you were assigned, someday." He remembered the 
reassuring feeling while they were speaking. And he missed her increasingly more 
and more.
"How? I had sweated blood for four yahrens at the Academy to be at the top of my 
class." Again, her fiery temper. You'll need all your strong temper.
"Oh, I see. Top of your class. Not bad." Not bad? With him, Starbuck and Apollo, 
she was the best warrior of the Fleet.
"Excuse me if I sound too bitter, but that's because Baltar exactly reminds me 
to be one of those persons..." One of those persons.
"Baltar!" You've met worse people, now. "No one cares what he thinks! If he even 
thinks!"
She addressed to him a worried look. "Boom, do you think you have to try 
something?" We have tried. We have tried. But we failed.
He became silent for a few microns. Then very quietly and barely audible he 
answered. " Depends."
"This is one of those moments when I miss my father a lot. My father, and his 
genius plans!" Plans! None of our plans worked.
"True. But we have to be careful as it's not only our lives, but the councils', 
too." Could you forgive us for it?
She sighed. "Our lives, the Councils, the Fleet... Boomer, I'm tired of being 
responsible for all these lives..." Responsible. As friends and wingmates, we 
were responsible for you. "Sometimes I wish I was at Gomorray again, without 
this Fleet, only the need to fight without too many duties..."
"I understand, Sheba. But all these "duties" come with being a warrior. It's 
what we are and must do no matter how we personally feel." To be a warrior. Is 
this what being a warrior has done to you? To all of us?
"I know. Yet, we are women and men, not only warriors." And we have just learned 
this lesson right down to our souls. From you. "It's strange. I've always tried 
to be a good warrior, almost the perfect warrior. For my father. For me. But 
since I have been on the Galactica, I've learned different ways to be a warrior. 
Adama, Tigh, Apollo, even Starbuck," She smiled. "And you." You trusted us, as 
we have always trusted you.
"A perfect warrior. No such thing, Sheba. Rules, regulations, duties, and it 
still comes down to making decisions on all that." None of those things was 
useful for us, on that planet. "And since we are only human, there will never be 
a perfect warrior." We aren't perfect. Otherwise, we would have been able to 
help you. "Unless you know one?"
"Well, ask any man of the Pegasus crew, and they will answer that Cain is the 
perfect warrior." Would he have succeeded where we failed? "You have never had 
to live with a living legend, with a man who is treated as a God." Where was God 
when we were down on that planet?
"What does Cain's daughter think about the Commander Cain now that she has 
served away from the Pegasus?" She never answered that question, as Commander 
Adama appeared again on the monitor, and Baltar abruptly divided the two pilots.
What does Cain's daughter think about her Galactica friends now that they 
couldn't help her in the worse moment of her life? Boomer noticed Starbuck's 
presence near him. He saw the same desperate look on his face.
For Sagan's sake, if they were so hopeless, what was in Apollo's heart?
 **************
In his mind and in his heart, in his flesh and his blood, a fire was burning 
inside him. A fire of fury and anger, a fire of despair and defeat, a cold fire 
that was not able to dispel the darkness of his sorrow. A fire of wounded love. 
The head in his hands, trying to stop his throbbing temples, he felt his blood 
running in his veins, bursting through his body. Maybe it was from the 
consequence of the blows that he received when he had been imprisoned. Maybe 
not. His skin was burning like a fever, the fever of his memories.
He had the impression of two cool hands on his forehead, of gentle fingers 
softly sinking in his hair.
Her whisper, "Promise me to never get your hair cut, my Captain." Shivers passed 
through his skin as her fingers lightly glided to the base of his neck. My 
Captain…
Then, in a dazzling flash, the image of her lying motionless on the ground, her 
hands scraped after the vain attempt to defend herself.
Keep calm.
His mind rejected the image.
The dim light of a Cylon raider emerged from the turmoil of his sensations. Then 
the sudden touch of her hand on his chin, delicately turning his face towards 
hers. And a fading feeling of mellow lips skimming his.
Then, her silence. Only a stifled cry as they dragged her outside the cell. As 
they pulled her hair to lift her head, to see her face.
Keep calm.
His mind took a step backward.
To the highest place on the Galactica. To the shining light of the stars.
"It's like riding in the hand of God … Or at least that's the way I like to 
think of it. Do you like it, Sheba?"
To her shining eyes.
"Oh, Apollo, I love it!"
She wasn't frightened. She wasn't indifferent. She was excited. She was amazed.
The true moment their souls met and recognized each other and blended in one 
spirit. As wind in the clouds. As rain in the ground. As sand in the rivers. As 
rivers in the sea.
Then, her dull eyes. No tears. No life. Only fear. Only grief.
Keep calm.
His mind turned again to the past. To a distant past.
The Officer's Club. Warriors. Galactica's and Pegasus' pilots mixed in a joyous 
reunion. Toasts. Jokes. Laughs. Jolly. Bojay. Sheba.
"Our basic strategy is just been to keep knocking down their base on Gomorray. 
Every time they send one of their scramble headed leaders to re-dedicate that 
base, we go right in, and turn it into scrap metal." Laughs, again.
"Hey! What about you guys? I mean you've got to be raising all kinds of 
felgercarb with those tinheads?" Bojay's arrogant voice.
He gets up from an adjacent table, where he has been listening to the chat. "We 
do our best." He says, walking toward the table. "As a matter of fact, we shot 
down a cylon patrol ship." He reaches the group. "Mind if I join you?" He adds.
"No by all means," someone says.
"Apollo. Strike Captain Apollo," he looks directly to the female Lieutenant. "I 
believe you spent a lot of time on my tail." He gestures toward her. "You are 
Sheba?"
"Yes." She looks him up and down and smiles. "To both questions." That 
particular smile.
Bojay interjects, "You can't be serious! You mean you shot down one cylon patrol 
ship in a secton?"
"Very serious." He points up. "When you're responsible for the lives of hundreds 
of civilians crammed aboard slow moving barges, you have to learn to keep a low 
profile." Why is he so on edge? There are no reasons.
"Sounds like we're going to be incompatible." She comments. Really?
"We all have to re-adjust." He replies sternly. "Even the legendary Commander 
Cain may have to alter his combat techniques…"
"And who's going to tell him that?" She's softly taunting him. It was only the 
first time.
"Being somewhat of a student of your father's battle tactics, I think he'll come 
to it on his own and if not...." Why is it so important to get her to understand 
his point of view?
The cheerful voice of Cain. "Drinks are on me!"
Cassie.
The ladies both look uncomfortable.
"Excuse me," She says, after a long look at him, "I have to leave." That look.
He can't take his eyes away from her.
She gets up, and leaves the Club.
He follows her in the corridor. He touches her arm. "We'll have to learn to work 
together."
"The problem won't be working with you!"
My dear love…
Her sweet voice again.
"I guess we've been at each other's throats ever since the moment we met."
Sheba…
He lowered his head even more, burying it in his clenched fists.
 
The familiar noise of a mechanical daggit broke the silence of the corridor.
Apollo didn't seem to notice it.
He felt two little hands on his. It took some microns to realize that it wasn't 
the impression of a memory.
"Boxey!" He saw his son in front of him, a worried look in his eyes. "What are 
you doing here? The Life Center isn't…"
"I've heard that Sheba has been hit, while you were on the planet. Is it true?" 
The little boy was looking directly in his eyes, the real question in his 
serious gaze.
"You're going away, aren't you?" Apollo looked again to his son's face to be 
sure that the last question was coming only from his imagination.
Boxey was still in front of him, waiting for his reply.
He didn't even remark that the Life Center wasn't a place for children and their 
daggits. "Yes, she's injured," Apollo couldn't stop his sigh. "Salik and Cassie 
are taking care of her." He should add something else to reassure the child. He 
knew he should have. However, he couldn't.
Again, he heard his son speaking. "I didn't want her to go."
Nevertheless, Boxey was only nodding to his answer.
Boomer went near the two, and took the boy's hand. "C'm on Boxey. I'm sure aunt 
Athena is looking for you all over on the Galactica. Maybe your grandfather has 
already alerted the bridge because she can't find you."
Boxey knew that it wasn't the right time to question the adults. "See you later, 
daddy." Starbuck, Boomer, his father. They all had such strange faces. He 
followed Boomer. "And when you talk to Sheba tell her that we've need to finish 
that scorpian game..." he turned for a moment towards his father, then they 
quietly left.
Apollo didn't hear the last words as his son moved away with Boomer.
 
"I didn't want her to go."
The red eye of a Cylon. A laser light. A woman on the ground. His wife. Serina.
Why can't I protect my loved ones?
For the first time after all of these many centars, there weren't only emotions, 
impressions and memories. Instead, thoughts, questions, reflections. Words.
Is my love so deadly?
His soul was shouting his sorrow to the whole Universe.
At least, this is something that the Cylons can't do. Only a shot, a neat shot, 
and all is over. Not like…
His heart couldn't go on.
Not like those dirty humans.
However, it did continue.
How could a human do this to his fellow creature?
It was an ancient question. With no answer.
Please live, my love. Live for me and for our dreams. Live to fly again amongst 
the stars, together.
Someway, he hoped she could hear him. If not herself, at least her spirit.
"It's her body that's gone, Boxey. Not her spirit or her love for us."
No. Not again.
Maybe your father would have saved you. Or Bojay.
"We'll have that always."
However, he wanted her now. There. Sheba.
Live to forgive me.
Had he still the strength to pray?
Where was I wrong? We took every precaution. We…
 
"Apollo," Starbuck put his hand on his shoulder. "Stop tormenting yourself." 
Then, he sat next to him.
Apollo sighed, "Why? I'm the Captain. It was my responsibility." My Captain. 
Again, her usual kind joke came back to him. There was a way, when she sweetly 
said it, that made him crazy to love her, longing to take her in his arms, 
forgetting all the felgercarb around them. Oh yeah, he knew that for the most 
part of the times, she was only teasing him, knowing very well that while they 
were on duty, he rarely gave way to his feelings, to his desires. Moreover, not 
only on duty. Nevertheless, she took every chance to provoke him with that 
saying. In addition, he had to admit that she was very successful in her 
attempts. Not only her tone, but also the twinkle in her brown eyes, and the way 
she tilted her head.
"It was our responsibility, not only yours…" In the same way Starbuck was also 
thinking the same. After Gomorray, since they learned to work together, as 
Apollo had said, Sheba had become an important part of the Blue Squadron. More, 
she had become part of their friendship. And this, even before she became 
involved in her relationship with Apollo. Starbuck was grateful to her, as she 
had brought back to him and Boomer the old Apollo, the guy he was before the 
Holocaust. Well, not just the same old Apollo, since no one after the Holocaust 
could have been the same. At least, a near copy of him. Starbuck hadn't ever 
been jealous of her as he was with Serina. She was not taking Apollo away from 
their friendship. On the contrary, she was part of their friendship. So, before 
they were Apollo, Starbuck and Boomer, now they were Apollo, Starbuck, Boomer, 
and Sheba. Neither Cassie was as closed to them as Sheba. It was only because 
Cassie was not a pilot, and did not share with them all the cycle as they did.
 
She was also a perfect ally to his little jokes to Apollo.
"Sheba, don't look at me. He's _your_ Captain, not mine." Well, Apollo still 
needed some pushes to understand how to fully enjoy life, and surely, Starbuck 
was willing to help him.
"Come on Apollo, they're waiting for us." With her complicity.
"Who's waiting for us? And since when do you two give me orders?" Even if Apollo 
was always suspicious about their plans.
"Since now." They both answered, and they started laughing. They had good cards 
to play.
"I've a funny feeling I don't like what you have in mind…" However, he couldn't 
resist the both of them.
"Why dear? You're with your girlfriend and your best friend. What would you like 
more?" To her perky tone.
"That's why I'm worried. You two together are dangerous. Especially during 
furlongs. With all your pay." When she was in the right mood, it was a pleasure 
to spend time with her.
"Well, actually, _our_ pay, buddy." Starbuck had learned to recognize the signs 
of her harsh outbursts. And he had learned to leave before one of them. If he 
could.
"I don't buy it." She even played Pyramid sometimes. And not so bad.
"You've no choice, my Captain. The next shuttle for the Galactica is within one 
centar, and unless you want to wait here alone, you had better move your astrum 
and follow us." Something to do with her father, strategy and luck, she had 
explained once.
"Starbuck!" Moreover, she knew how to handle Apollo.
"She's right, you've no choice buddy. Listen to the girl, it's the wisest 
decision." And she was a good friend.
 
Enough for the memories today, Starbuck murmured.
"What?" Apollo asked.
"Nothing. Just thinking." So you are paying attention to me.
"Starbuck, I…" a long pause. "I need her." He sighed. How many centons, how many 
centars have passed after they had talked with Salik?
"I know Apollo, I know. I'm sure she'll be fine." What a stupid reply, he 
thought. Couldn't you think of anything better for your friend, Starbuck?
"She's so … special." Special. She deserves more than this adjective. But how is 
it possible to define the air, or the water, or life.
"Yeah, she is. She's an excellent pilot…"
"Would you know? " Obviously, Apollo wasn't listening to Starbuck. He was only 
following the thread of his thoughts. "Sometimes she reminds me of…" He 
hesitated, as he did not the courage to finish the sentence.
"Of Zac?" Starbuck had had the same impression.
"Have you noticed?" He was surprised, yet not so much, anyway. Starbuck had 
known Zac very well, too. "They have the same…" He couldn't find the right word. 
"The same inexhaustible fire of living."
"Yeah. The same need to prove themselves, to challenge the world." To compete 
with you and gain your respect; to be worthy of your love.
Anyway, the blond Lieutenant didn't add this, as he perfectly knew how painful 
it would have been for Apollo to hear. The Captain was still silent. Frack you, 
Starbuck. You should bite your tongue before speaking. There was no need to 
remind Apollo of his dead brother. "Maybe we're just getting old, and those 
young pilots…" He tried to relieve the pain.
"No. Maybe we've gone too far, Starbuck. Maybe we never understand when it's 
time to quit," another long pause, "and to admit our defeats."
Starbuck did not reply, because at long least Salik and Cassie came out of the 
emergency room. They immediately stood up and waited anxiously for the news.
"Doctor?" Apollo's heart was motionless, paralyzed by the fear of hearing what 
he didn't want to know.
"She's alive, Apollo. Still in the life tube, but alive." It had been a long 
cycle for Doctor Salik.
She's alive. Alive. Alive. He continued to repeat it to himself, as if he could 
not believe it. He began to breathe again.
"I need to keep her sedated, though at least for several more centars. Then, 
when the effects of the beating fade, she can wake up." He was trying to be very 
careful, to give the news to Apollo gradually.
"Please doctor, can I see her?" It was the only important thing to him, for the 
moment.
"Sure. Don't expect to see…" Salik did not finish, because Apollo, after 
murmuring quick thanks, enters the room, near Sheba.
"We can talk with him about the details later, doctor." Cassie said, following 
her friend with her gaze.
"Of course, Cassiopeia. I have to go to the laboratory to check those markers 
for the blood exams, and then I have to report to Adama. Call me if there are 
any changes in her situation." Salik left a busy look on his face.
"Blood exams? Again?" Starbuck was puzzled. Most of all, while Apollo was only 
concerned to see her live, the blond Lieutenant instead had felt that there was 
something more, something that Salik did not have the time to tell.
"Yes, Starbuck. You know, we need to check for viruses and…" As a former 
socialator, Cassie knew very well what men's reaction were to this kind of 
_problems_ "…and venereal diseases."
"Hades! What…" Fortunately, Starbuck was not so much prejudice like most of 
Caprican's men, he had proven that since the first time they met. She saw only 
apprehension for their friend on his expression.
"Please, let me explain." This isn't going to be easy. Not at all. "We don't 
know what there were on the planet. And we must consider every possibility." She 
wasn't able to add more. At least, she thought, we don't have all the results of 
the exams, and so maybe we're worrying too much. Maybe.
Then she looked at him, and she burst into tears, reaching her arms for his 
embrace.
Cassie had tried to hide her feelings under the professional behavior all the 
time. The sorrow seeing what happened to the woman that had become her dearest 
friend. The fear to not be able to help her. She couldn't hide them anymore.
Starbuck clasped her tightly in his arms, and he gently fondled her blond hair, 
while she was sobbing and crying her heart out. Both trembling, they let down 
their façade, what had defended them from the horror until that moment. Finally, 
they sought relief from their pain in their hug, in the strong feeling that 
bound them. They stood there for centons, confronting each other with their sole 
presence. A consolation that was denied to Apollo, for the moment.
"It isn't fair…" Cassie murmured, still weeping, burying her head in Starbuck's 
chest, as the grip of his arms around her shoulders might have smothered the 
pain in her heart.
"No, it isn't." He replied softly. Who better than him to agree with this? The 
war orphan had learned early in his childhood that lesson.
Whenever is life fair?
*******************************
Silence.
Darkness.
Shivers.
Fear.
She could feel her rapid pulse.
Cold.
Pain.
Dread all over her being.
She tried to breathe.
The air smarted in her lungs.
Her fingers moved on the moist ground.
No. They didn't find ground.
Maybe a smooth blanket.
Waves of pain again.
Her ears got a distant, familiar noise of engines.
She was floating on the pillows of suffering.
Her eyes refused to open.
A flash.
Confused faces, voices and movements.
The heavy touch of a hand on her neck.
Her body tensed.
Her mind remembered.
And her heart abandoned itself again to the chilly embrace of the void.
 
*******************************
 
The boundless space vacuum.
The pilot shuddered for a micron. What was this? Then, he turned his attention 
toward his cockpit, and he checked the scanner. No signs of Cylons. He glanced 
again around him: only distant stars and the lights of the main panel. He 
switched some turbo controls, and he gently fixed the Viper speed on the 
established path.
Unfortunately, there wasn't too much to do during the usual patrol.
He sighed. He looked for some circuit breaker to adjust, or some button to push, 
but everything was ok. He took a deep breath, and he focused on the outside 
view. The scanner detected a near planet, but after watching for enemy traces, 
he didn't investigate it further.
 
"End of the mission on LK 711: the four warriors were released and the ground 
team immediately returned to the Galactica. The Fleet left the area, because of 
signs of Cylon presence." Someone was watching the IFB news, just before he left 
the pilots' barracks. "Only one of the warriors is still recovering in the Life 
Center. Considering the large amount of water and food recovered… the mission 
has been a complete success."
Damned propaganda. Or perhaps good propaganda. The official version for the 
Council and the Fleet. And for most part of the Galactica crew. Only few people 
knew what really happened. Omega, the person responsible for public relations 
with the IFB staff, had done a good job this time. At least, they were trying to 
defend her from Zara and people's foolishness. Even if they had not been able to 
defend her when she really needed their help.
If only I would have been there…
For only an instant, he felt a cold shiver through his body. He checked the 
control panel again, he glanced at the Viper at his left, but he found nothing 
strange. However, he had learned a long time ago to trust his instincts. And 
something was not right at that micron.
No. It wasn't possible. He suppressed the impulse to call the Galactica bridge 
for news. If the news was bad, he didn't want to know until he was back. And 
Tigh had said just some centons ago that she was still unconscious because of 
the sedatives. She would be fine. She must be fine.
He felt the grip of the frost inside him again.
For a micron, he closed his eyes, too tired to fight against the unknown. Or was 
it something he already knew?
"Don't lie to me, Ace. I can tell what are you feeling without even looking at 
your eyes", how many times had Bojay said this to her?
He sighed, reflecting about the past two yahrens. He had dated the most 
beautiful women of the Fleet, both military and civilian: Brie, Dietra, Arne 
among the female pilots, Citera and Ebeh on the bridge, even Attis and Thetis 
from the maintenance crew, and also Rishtar, Armonia, Ialise on the other ships. 
A private room on the Rising Star, dinner, music, dance, some romantic words: he 
knew himself very well, a chivalrous and a very discreet partner. Nevertheless, 
none of them had really touched his feelings, and every time, returning to the 
barracks, he deeply felt alone.
He saddened thinking of a conversation he had had with Sheba a long time ago.
 
"Ok, have sex with her, if you want. But remember, it's not love, it's only 
sex!" She wasn't angry with him, she was only worried he would hurt the lady, 
but most of all, that he wouldn't hurt himself. "If you make it with someone you 
don't love, you'll only feel more and more alone. You cannot break the barrier: 
it would be only two bodies, not the fusion of two souls. You deserve more, my 
friend."
 
He smiled weakly remembering the serious look she gave at him at that micron. 
The same serious, concerned look he usually got from her when she saw him 
returning from one of his dates. She didn't say too much; no lectures, at least. 
And he knew very well how much one of her lectures was very successful in making 
him feel like a child, no matter that he was five yahrens older than her, 
moreover, a superior officer. Rather, she had joked and teased him about his 
last flame during their patrol together. He had to admit that she was always 
right, laughing heartily with her about his adventures. Something that, usually, 
men share only among themselves. Indeed, she was genuinely happy for him when he 
had seemed to have a stable relationship, as it had been with Dietra, although 
it had only lasted for a few sectars.
No matter how many cubits he spent on one of his special evenings on the luxury 
ship, they weren't alike the few centars he spent with Sheba, sometimes in the 
pilots' barracks. A bottle of good ambrosa, his lyra, and some good songs to 
sing, better if they were the songs he loved to write:
*Again the woman, looking at me meltingly from under her dark eyelids,
hurls me with her manifold enchantments into the boundless nets of Love.
Lady with the virgin glance, I pursue you, but you pay no attention,
not realizing that you hold the reins of my soul.*
 
She hadn't seem to notice that most of his songs were written about her. Or if 
she did, she didn't tell him she knew.
Chatter or silence between them, listening to music or playing the lyra, they 
were the only moments he really felt at home.
 
"You must breathe together, you must have the same eyes, your pulses must beat 
together, your hands must be at the same place at the same time. One sole thing: 
you two and your Vipers, you two and the Squadron, you two and the Pegasus…" 
There had been a time, when he was promoted to Silver Spar Squadron Captain with 
Sheba as his deputy, that he had heard these words from the Commander. 
Evidently, Cain, referring to the responsibility of leading his Squadron in 
battle, hadn't imagined that for Bojay this too had a deeper significance.
Despite his best efforts, he hadn't been able to stop breathing with her, to 
close his eyes that saw with her, to stop his pulse beating with hers, to have 
his hands in a different place.
 
"Hey Bojay! Haven't you heard the bridge is calling you?" Jolly's voice 
interrupted his thoughts, and the Bojay heard Rigel's words on the comm-link.
"Captain Bojay here. What is going on?", he asked. He had been concentrating so 
much on his thoughts, that he hadn't heard the bridge call. For a micron, he had 
expected to hear Tolen's voice. Frack, he thought, two yahrens after Gomorray, 
and you still feel out of place?
Instead was Colonel Tigh who spoke, "Patrol Alpha, return to the Galactica. We 
have made arrangements for the next roster. Patrol Delta from Blue Squadron is 
on the way." The Colonel received only silence as reply, "Red Leader, do you 
copy me? Set course immediately back to the Galactica."
"Yes sir, I read you. Patrol Alpha, have you heard the Colonel? We're coming 
home soon!" He could feel Jolly' and Giles' relief : his men were tired, as they 
were on duty in place of the five pilots that had been on the planet.
"Captain, I don't think the report of this routine patrol would be difficult to 
report. Maybe if you would immediately go to the Life Center, Giles and I could 
easily take care of it. You could check it later…"
"Thanks Jolly, I appreciate that…"
"No problem Captain. And say hello to Sheba for us, please, when she's better." 
After all, not all the Galactica pilots were like Apollo. Or like Starbuck and 
Boomer, he added, remembering how they sent him away the Life Center without 
ceremony, after his brusque exchange with the Blue Squadron's Captain.
Now that she's going to wake up, no one will keep me away from her, I swear, he 
thought.
************************
 
Puff. Clang. Puff. Clang. Puff. Clang.
Apollo didn't notice the noise of the respirator anymore. After that long cycle, 
the sound had got familiar to him. Salik had said that it was only a 
precautionary measure, to help her wounded lungs to breathe easily.
Puff. Clang.
She seemed to move her arm slowly on the blanket. No, he couldn't be sure if she 
really moved it, or if it was only his imagination, as sometimes happens when 
the gaze is fixed on an immobile object for too long.
Puff. Clang.
His hand softly skimmed her cheek in a clumsy caress. He was afraid to hurt her, 
even with a tender touch.
Puff. Clang.
His hand stopped at a few millimetrons close to her pale lips. He could feel her 
warm breath, as it dampened his fingers with every difficult expiration.
Puff. Clang.
He stood for some microns, reassured to sense in her breath life again, lightly 
passing through his fingers. Was this life? he thought. Something that 
ethereally touches our flesh, and quickly vanishes?
Puff. Clang.
Something weaker than a dew drop which evaporates in the hot sun? Yet, that 
fragile dew drop reflects all the shades of the world, quivering in the wind. He 
clenched his fist, as if he could hold her breath of life. 
Puff. Clang.
"I have had the gift of life, my Captain. I have had you and your love." she 
said in his mind.
Puff. Clang.
He loosened his fist, then he gently moistened her chapped lips with a gauze. He 
tried to not look at the wafer-thin tubes which stuck out of her mouth and her 
nose. He wiped the gauze over her hot forehead, being careful not to disturb her 
artificial sleep.
Puff. Clang.
However, he couldn't not touch her, as only by feeling her skin under his 
fingers could he believe they were back on the Galactica, safe again. Maybe 
alive again.
Puff. Clang.
Cassiopeia came near Sheba's life pod. Checking on more than the unconscious 
patient, strictly controlled by the electronic devices, the med-tech checked the 
dark-haired man who was still at her side after two whole centars. Apollo didn't 
acknowledge Cassie' presence, nor did the blond woman interrupt his thoughts. 
She left them alone.
Puff. Clang.
Could you ever forgive me?
Puff. Clang. Puff. Clang. Puff. Clang.
 
******************************
 
"Father! You scared me!" Apollo started, as Adama put an hand on his arm.
"I'm sorry, son. You were so concentrating so hard on her that you didn't answer 
me," the Commander whispered, even if he knew Sheba couldn't hear them. He 
looked at the motionless figure in the life pod. The bright blanket barely hid 
the signs of her sufferings.
"She's taking too long to wake up. The sedative must have worn off by now," 
Apollo took a step backward, as if he didn't want to disturb her.
"She's weak, and she needs rest. Don't be too eager to see her awake," Adama 
observed. He didn't add that once she was awake, they would have to face the 
situation. How would Sheba react? It was a question that hadn't left his mind 
all that cycle. It hadn't had to deal with anything like this in all his career. 
Most of all, he didn't care what Commander Adama would do in this case. He 
wanted to be only Adama, a father. Yes, in front of him was one of his warriors. 
Yet that woman was his second daughter, was part of his family.
Apollo understood what his father was referring to. He met his gaze, but he 
didn't make any comment. Maybe she didn't want to wake up anymore, he thought. 
Maybe she thinks she has nothing to live for. Maybe she didn't want to remember. 
Maybe she can't forgive me.
He felt his father's hand on his shoulder, "We'll be here for her, my son. We'll 
be able to help Sheba, don't worry."
Apollo silently nodded. "We've been here before, near a life pod like this one, 
just after Gomorray…," he couldn't avoid saying that. It seemed that memories 
were the only way to escape from the burden of the present, the recent past and 
the unknown future. This cycle was woven with remembrances, grief, pain and 
apprehension.
"Yes, when we welcomed her into our family," Adama agreed, remembering a wounded 
warrior who in the deep of her heart was only concerned about the disappearance 
of her father.
The shadow of a smile showed itself for a micron on Apollo's face, "Ours was a 
strange first meeting. Not a romantic one, and not love at first sight." How 
many times had they laughed together thinking of their first meeting on the 
skies, trying to shoot each other down?
"Once, she joked with me that her heart was not hit by Cupid's darts, but by the 
lasers of a Galactica Viper… I admit that it is an original way to impress a 
lady, son. Not even Starbuck has ever dared such a thing, I bet."
Cupid's darts. Apollo thought of all the nights they had spent talking about 
their home worlds and their singularities. Often, she had told him stories and 
myths of the ancient religion of Gemini, Cain's home planet. Well, to tell the 
truth, she had often told these myths to Boxey, when Adama was too busy on the 
bridge to take his grandchild to bed. And Apollo loved to sit next to her, 
tucking Boxey up in bed, and listening to her charming voice. It was like being 
a family, a normal civilian family. Truth to tell that often, when Boxey was 
already asleep, they ended up in Apollo's bed, with her telling the most 
mischievous legends, the ones not suited to children's ears. Even if he tried 
playfully to distract her in different ways, she always got him hooked till the 
end of her story. After that, they had never slept much.
He was struck by a blow in his stomach, as he recalled their sweetest moments 
together.
Adama saw him turning pale in a flash, tensing his body, clenching his teeth in 
the attempt to stay calm, "Apollo, are you okay?"
Apollo felt he was going to be sick, but with an effort of will he pushed away 
images of her arms tied, of a man stooping down toward her. They can't steal our 
love, they can't break our bond. He breathed slowly, regaining his self-control, 
while he answered, "I'm fine father, I'm fine."
Adam nodded, knowing from his son's face that it was useless to ask more. He 
followed his desolate gaze to Sheba's face, and he didn't show his surprise as 
Apollo continued to speak as nothing had just happened.
"You know, father, it was the first time we met. Maybe we were not able to kill 
each other, despite of the fact we nearly did during those cycles at Gomorray. 
Considering that, our only choice was to fall in love, I think."
Adama recognized from his absent tone of voice, that Apollo was thinking of 
something else. Perhaps he knew what thoughts he was avoiding, and so he tried 
to give him something else to concentrate on, "Actually, it wasn't the real 
first time you met Sheba."
"Father, I never met Sheba before Gomorray," Apollo interrupted him.
At least, I've got again his attention. He smiled, "On the contrary, you did. 
You only were both too young to remember it. And also that time, there was a 
Viper between you."
"I don't remember …"
Adama saw his interest, and he interrupted Apollo's objection, "You were about… 
let me think, you were ten yarhens old, more close to your eleventh novayahren. 
It was a lukewarm spring, a holiday. Strangely enough, I was at home, and so was 
Cain. You know, it was unusual that two battlestars were on Caprica for 
maintenance at the same time. However, there we were, two Colonels who had been 
wingmates until a few yarhens before, with a great wish to meet each other and 
share veterans' war stories. So Ila and I decided to invite Cain with his family 
to our home for lunch. I was curious to know the little baby who had conquered 
Cain's heart…".
"Father, when I was ten yahrens old I had already memorized all the battles 
plans that Cain had won at that time. He was my hero, I should remember if I met 
him, especially at our home!"
"Haven't I taught you to not interrupt when someone is speaking, son? However, 
Cain didn't come: he was called at the last centon because of a problem on the 
Pegasus. So you're right, you never met him. Yet, we didn't see reasons to not 
spend the cycle with Bethany and Sheba, as they would have been at home alone. 
You were very disappointed, I remember," Adama gave a look at Apollo, seeing 
that he was going to intervene again. Indeed the Captain stayed silent, and he 
continued, "You'd rather planned to go to the beach with some friends, but we 
forbade your to go. It wasn't kind toward our guests. I recall it very well, 
because for once, I was taking care of the problem, since I was at home. 
Needless to say that when they arrived, you were very angry, because in your 
mind, they spoilt your holiday. And it became worse when you tried to play with 
Sheba and your sister…"
"I should have known," Apollo couldn't avoid commenting, a true smile for the 
first time after three cycles.
"Yes, you should. Zac was sleeping in his cradle, and Athena quickly got tired 
because she was just recovering from a bad flu. Besides, she wasn't able to 
stand up to both you and little Sheba. Cain's daughter was only five yarhens 
old, but she wanted to lead the games, even if you and Athena were older than 
her. You didn't intend to make it easy for her. And Sheba had clear ideas about 
how a game would have been played, and most of all about who had to be the 
leader: her."
"That's typical of her!" Apollo said.
Adama grinned, "I think she has grown up since that cycle, Apollo. Or you 
wouldn't still be the Strike Leader here."
"Maybe father, maybe," the Captain replied elusively. "So, with Athena and Zac 
out of the scene, why didn't we get at each other throats?"
"It wasn't a new situation for you two, was it? Because I split you two up, and 
I gave you something else to think about," as I'm trying to do with you now, 
Adama thought, but for a different reason. "Bethany distracted her with her 
favorite toy: a Viper model. And by chance, it was one you didn't have in your 
collection. When you saw it, you changed your mind from night to day: you 
exchanged some of your Viper models, and so you played quietly together until 
evening. We even forgot you were there."
"So I've met her before… Why I didn't remember it?", Apollo wondered.
"Apollo, you were kids, and you spent only a few centars in a afternoon 
together… Moreover, there hadn't been other occasions…"
A sound came from the machine which was monitoring Sheba's condition.
Cassiopeia immediately checked the patient, and Apollo got closer to the life 
pod, worried by the flashing light of the instruments.
The serene look that had appeared on his face had vanished.
After Cassie reassured him that it had been only a routine warning about a 
chemical value, the Captain nodded to his father, "Thanks."
You need all your strength, my son. You'll need all your strength for you and 
for her, Adama silently told him. When he saw Apollo near Sheba again, holding 
her hand gently, the Commander thought he would be better in his quarters, 
praying the Lords for the two lovers in front of him; and he left the Life 
Center.
 
Entering the turbolift, he ran into Colonel Tigh, who asked, "News?"
"Not yet, Tigh," the Commander sighed, taking off his face, for a micron, the 
peaceful mask he had worn until that moment for his son, "It has been a long 
secton, and other hard cycles are going to come, my friend."
"Adama, you need some rest. I know Apollo will collapse sooner or later. I've 
lost the count of how many centars he hasn't slept for. And we have to consider 
that he was injured too during their imprisonment." Tigh looked directly into 
the Commander eyes, speaking frankly, "And someone must to be here when Sheba 
wakes up. Someone as…" he hesitated, "like a father, Adama."
The Commander didn't answer for a centon. Then, he commented gravely, "I'm not 
her real father, Tigh." He raised his hand to stop the Colonel's protests and he 
gripped his arm, "Have you thought of Cain, our friend? He sent her to the 
Galactica to be protected, do you remember? He believed us, and he entrusted his 
beloved daughter, the light of his eyes to us." Tigh perceived an unusual note 
of agitation in Adama's voice, "When I'll meet him again, and I know he'll be 
back for Sheba, how will I tell him that I failed, we weren't able to defend 
her?"
**************************
 
Bursts of cold.
Shudders of heat.
Burning skin and aching bones.
A broken spirit. Pieces of a soul floating on nothing. The nothing of pain and 
desperation.
Dry eyes and empty arms.
However, the lonely spirit was collecting itself again in that body.
Slowly. Uncertainly. Painfully.
Deep scratches on the center of her sensations.
Waves of consciousness. Whirlpools of obscurity.
More and again.
Gradually, a distant noise penetrated in the silence. Whispers. Vibrations.
Near and near.
The aseptic taste of a gummy tube in her arid throat.
Silence and blankness again.
Yet, she felt a force calling her back, gently and firmly leading her 
disorientated spirit upstream, to its fresh spring.
The light weight of a blanket upon her body. Clean sheet under her fingers.
The slight smell of medicines.
Heavy eyelids. A flash of darkness.
Brown eyelashes raised with difficulty. Finally, a hesitating blink.
Then, the light.
Concentrating only on the difficult breath, it took time for the brown pupils to 
focus the light.
Vaguely, they distinguished the gray panels of the ceiling.
After some microns, the outlines of two figures got became clearing.
A blond person was at her side. A dark-haired head bowed on the life-pod.
The sparkling of those green eyes lacerated the veil of her oblivion. And like a 
thorn, the dull sorrow came back with the memories.
"Hey… good morning, honey," Apollo swallowed the lump in his throat as he saw 
her eyes open. He had been waiting for that look now for centars, hoping and 
praying, yet fearing the moment. He threw out the thought of the last time he 
had seen those eyes locked into his. "You are on the Galactica in the Life 
Center." Something in his voice cracked, as he couldn't go further. She had 
turned her eyes away from him. She had closed her eyes again. He raised his head 
toward Cassie, as if asking a question.
"Sheba? Come on Sheba, answer…" The blond med-tech pushed away her own fears. 
She had to be professional: it was the best way to help her friend.
"Sheba…" She called her softly yet resolutely. "Sheba open your eyes, please."
Finally, another blink from the woman showed she was still awake.
"Ok, Sheba, good. You're in the Life Center, on the Galactica. You have 
undergone a complex surgical operation, that's the reason for the respirator and 
the tube in your throat." She gently took her hand in hers. "Squeeze my hand to 
answer me, please. Do you understand what I've said?"
The cold hand of Sheba stayed motionless; her pupils glanced at the med-tech for 
a micron, then turned to the ceiling again. A doubt crossed Cassie mind.
"Sheba, do you recognize me? Do you know who am I?"
No reaction.
"Sheba, I'm Cassie, your friend. Please, give me a sign you're listening to me."
Nothing again.
Cassie waved to Apollo to come nearer. "Sheba, look who is here."
"Darling, I'm here. Do you hear me?" Apollo held his breath, waiting for her 
reply, while horrible thoughts crowded his mind.
After a centon that seemed an eternity, the wide brown eyes turned their 
attention to him, a weak sparkle in them.
"Thanks," Cassie murmured to no one in particular.
"We are back home, and you'll be fine soon," He whispered softly.
Her eyes were looking directly at his. Apollo painfully felt their gaze piercing 
his soul. He took Sheba's hand, to reassure the woman and himself, at the same 
time hoping that she would try to communicate with him.
A flooding tide was overwhelming her sensations. The sorrow was paralyzing her 
reflexes. Eyes, neck, arms and legs: she couldn't move them.
She was seeing Cassie and Apollo speaking. Yet, they were at the opposite side 
of an aquarium glass. Moving lips without a sound. However, those lovely green 
eyes lightened her coldness for a bit.
Until flashes from the past came between them.
Ropes tight around her wrists.
Hands on her mouth.
A wrench uniform.
The repugnant weight of a man on her body.
As soon as Apollo touched tenderly her fingers, a violent shake tossed her.
A distinct moan slipped from her mouth.
"What's…" he asked Cassie. The monitors were showing her accelerated pulse.
Sheba suddenly moved her hand away from the contact with him. She closed her 
eyes, gasping for air despite of the respirator. She was trembling all over.
Cassie checked the instruments, pushing Apollo away and calling for Salik.
Once more, Apollo looked at them bent over Sheba. And he waited, over again.
 
*********************
 
Sitting on the border of the large bed in his quarters, Apollo heard someone 
knocking at the door. He didn't answer.
The person repeated his insistent knocking.
"Stay away, Starbuck. I don't want to talk. You had to forced me here in my 
quarters. Be satisfied with that." He said wearily.
"I know Starbuck would have been the only one able to keep you in your 
quarters." Athena's voice replied from the corridor. "Please Apollo, open the 
door."
Maybe it's something about Boxey, he thought hearing his sister. He realized 
that he had seen his son only for a few microns after he had come back. With a 
sigh, the Captain pushed the button to open the door.
"That's better." She commented, going toward him.
"Where's Boxey?" He asked, without even looking at her.
"He's sleeping with dad tonight." She gave him a concerned look. He hadn't 
changed his uniform, and he really looked very tired.
"Tonight? Is it sleeping shift now?" How many centars had passed after we came 
back? he wondered.
"Yes, it is." She leaned the tray she was carrying on the bedside table, and she 
sat down near him. "Here is fish-soup from the mess. It's excellent. And the 
bread has just came out of the oven."
"I'm not hungry. And I don't want to eat anything that come from the planet." He 
gestured to the fish-soup.
He remember too well how Starbuck, Cassie, Sheba and him had helped the ground 
team to fish. Sheba said she had never fished, and he had enjoyed showing her 
how to do it with row and line, while naturally the agro-techs were trawling 
their nets to catch it. Anyway, the four of them were having fun. He had 
remembered the distant cycles of his youth on Caprica, where he loved to spend 
some time alone fishing in a river near his home where the fish flew into the 
sea. Telling this to Sheba, she had said it was just the hobby for him: solitary 
and calm, with a lot of time to think. And she had smiled, I love you just 
because you are you, my Captain. Then, she had kissed him passionately, let them 
forget the fish and the river. It had been the last kiss between them.
"So?"
"What Athena?" He hadn't realized that she was speaking to him.
"You're not listening to me."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't mind. I was asking how Sheba was when you left the Life Center." She took 
the tray and she put it in front of him.
He looked at the steaming soup, and he turned away, when he saw Athena's 
expression. Since he didn't want to argue about a stupid soup with her, he 
started to eat. And as soon as he tasted it, he had to admit that it was really 
excellent. Besides, his stomach accepted it with pleasure, as he had not eaten 
for two cycles.
When he had finished, he answered her question, "She's breathing spontaneously 
now, without the respirator."
"And?" Athena perfectly knew how Sheba was, because she had just spoken with 
Cassie before going to Apollo's quarters. Anyway, he needed to talk, she 
thought.
"And she's sleeping at the micron, I think." Evidently she didn't want to talk.
"So, she's okay now." She affirmed, as she was persuaded of this.
Apollo hesitated, before going on, "No. She isn't okay." It was so difficult to 
admit the truth.
Athena respected his sorrow, and she placed her arm on his shoulder. More than 
words, it was the best way to share it with her brother.
Apollo hid his face in his hands. "She's not speaking. She's not responding to 
any stimulus. She's only looking at the ceiling. If someone talks to her, she 
closes her eyes." He paused for a centon. Athena patiently waited. "And if 
someone touches her, if _I_ try to hold her hand, she reacts violently, she 
trembles, she…"
Athena fondled his hair. "She needs time."
"Time?" He turned his head toward hers, "No sis, she doesn't want to live." And 
tears veiled his eyes.
"Yes, she wants to live, Apollo. Only, it's difficult to face .." she couldn't 
find the words to describe what had happened to her friend.
"Me." Apollo ended sadly for her.
"Not you. The situation. You're the only one who can help her." Athena strongly 
believed this.
"Not this time."
"Yes, this time. As always. As forever." She raised her voice. If Apollo was 
giving up, then what would Sheba do? "I'm sure she wants to live. I'm sure she 
doesn't want to leave you."
Apollo shook his head. "To live… what kind of life?" He saw Sheba's wide open 
eyes. Without a sparkle of life in them.
"The life with you she had always dreamt."
A lonely tear rolled down his cheek. "Wish I could give her back the life we had 
together."
Rarely had she seen her brother weeping, even when they were young. Maybe only 
once, when Serina died. And only in passing. It was a sight that broke her 
heart. "You can, Apollo. Just find the strength in your love."
"If I fail…" he whispered.
"You and Sheba aren't alone. Dad, I and all your friends are with you. You won't 
fail." She choked the tears that were raising in her own eyes. "Your love is 
much too strong." That kind of love she had often hoped for herself.
"Maybe you're right…"
"I'm right." She tried to smile, "Have I ever been wrong?"
"Sometimes, yet not about very important matters, little sis," Somehow, they 
were still able to joke.
"You're lucky tonight, big brother," she replied. "I'll forget your last 
statement only because I've been to a Council session, and I've heard enough 
discussions today." She would have like to say to him how she had been worried 
when she had heard he had been kidnapped with Sheba, Starbuck and Boomer. 
However, it wasn't the time to bring back the past two cycles. !Don't worry," 
she whispered softly, hugging him tightly.
Apollo returned her hug. "Thanks." He relaxed at the feeling of her friendly 
arms around him. And for the first time since she had entered the room, he 
remembered when he had seen that same expression on Athena's face. She had 
soothed his grief as someone else usually did when he came back home in one of 
his sad moods. It was the same sweet and firm expression, the same movements and 
speech of their mother, Ila.
***************************
To be continued...