moaned at him. He jumped back abruptly and backed into someone. Apollo whirled quickly and went to pull his laser, noting in despair it no longer rested in his holster. His despair grew dramatically as he gawked at Sheba. "Where do you think you're going, loverboy?" Sheba whispered menacingly. * * * * * "Put him on the table!" the leader told the others. "Wait! She's not a Doctor! That's Siress Belloby!" Starbuck protested as he was woman-handled, very thoroughly I might add, to his feet and dragged to the portable table. They shoved him to the surface and tied him in place face down. "Easy, handsome, that's Dr. Ravishing. She just looks like Siress Belloby." One of the women reassured him. "She's Belloby's... " "Sister." Starbuck finished. "No, second cousin, once removed." The woman answered with a shrug. "Sorry, 'sister' would have been too predictable." Starbuck could feel his hair moved up off the nape of his neck and a sudden burning pain eruThe Starbuck Chronicles Part 1 Starbuck stole a peak around the corner, then pressed his back against the cold steel of the bulkhead. He fought the urge to gasp and, instead, drew in long, deep -- and silent -- breaths, despite the screaming of his lungs to do otherwise. Sweat trickled down his temple, his throat, across his chest and the shredded remains of his triad uniform... *Lords of Kobol,* he mused, remembering the events of the previous centar. Despite his anxiety and exhaustion, a faint smile crept across his lips. He wondered if Apollo and Boomer had faired better than he had. It was supposed to have been a triad exhibition for the youngsters of the Fleet. Had he know that every adolescent female would have been there... All had started well. But then the fans - about 50 girls, to be precise -- had started screaming, "Starbuck! Starbuck! Starbuck!" They had worked themselves into a frenzy. Apollo, Boomer, and he had tried to ignore them, at first, trying to contiThe Starbuck Chronicles Part 1 Starbuck stole a peak around the corner, then pressed his back against the cold steel of the bulkhead. He fought the urge to gasp and, instead, drew in long, deep -- and silent -- breaths, despite the screaming of his lungs to do otherwise. Sweat trickled down his temple, his throat, across his chest and the shredded remains of his triad uniform... *Lords of Kobol,* he mused, remembering the events of the previous centar. Despite his anxiety and exhaustion, a faint smile crept across his lips. He wondered if Apollo and Boomer had faired better than he had. It was supposed to have been a triad exhibition for the youngsters of the Fleet. Had he know that every adolescent female would have been there... All had started well. But then the fans - about 50 girls, to be precise -- had started screaming, "Starbuck! Starbuck! Starbuck!" They had worked themselves into a frenzy. Apollo, Boomer, and he had tried to ignore them, at first, trying to contipted at the base of his skull. "Hey!" he yelled, fighting to move his head. "Just a bit of freezing. We don't want this to be too painful." The Doctor cooed. "It fracking hurts!" Starbuck groaned. "It won't take long." The doctor reassured him. "Wh... what are you doing?" Starbuck asked in despair. He could hear a woman assisting the Doctor. "Shh." The woman soothed him. "I need some hibidil." Ravishing told her assistant. "Hibidil." Starbuck felt something cold dripping down his neck. "Scalpel." "Scalpel." Starbuck tensed as something warm dripped down his neck. He suspected it was his own blood. He shut his eyes tightly as they muttered above him. He couldn't help but wonder if Boomer had something to do with all this. And Apollo, where was the Captain? "Implant." The Doctor requested. "Implant." "IMPLANT!" Starbuck shouted as he opened his eyes. The robe of the doctor occluded his vision as he stared helplessly at thnue their demonstration. But then they had pushed past the inadequate attempts at security and had rushed the playing area... ======= Part 2 "Who let the Cylons get past 'em?" he'd shouted, as several million hands made short work of his costume. As he waited for his pulse and breathing to settle down, he looked at his outfit. Lords, he'd worn more when alone with Cassie! Scratched by countless fingernails, he wondered if he'd live to make it to the turbo-wash. He did, Boomer entering the unit a few centons later. Ashe let the hot water course over his abused skin, he spared a look at his old friend and wingmate. "Didn't I see you in a butcher shop, somewhere?" quipped the other pilot. "Oh ha ha!" said Starbuck with a snort. "And tis good to gaze upon your bruised and swollen face as well." "Well, I guess Cassie was right," continued the other. "You do look like a black and blue orion hasher." "A bl...Cassie...?" blurted Starbuck, almost inhaling the waternue their demonstration. But then they had pushed past the inadequate attempts at security and had rushed the playing area... ======= Part 2 "Who let the Cylons get past 'em?" he'd shouted, as several million hands made short work of his costume. As he waited for his pulse and breathing to settle down, he looked at his outfit. Lords, he'd worn more when alone with Cassie! Scratched by countless fingernails, he wondered if he'd live to make it to the turbo-wash. He did, Boomer entering the unit a few centons later. Ashe let the hot water course over his abused skin, he spared a look at his old friend and wingmate. "Didn't I see you in a butcher shop, somewhere?" quipped the other pilot. "Oh ha ha!" said Starbuck with a snort. "And tis good to gaze upon your bruised and swollen face as well." "Well, I guess Cassie was right," continued the other. "You do look like a black and blue orion hasher." "A bl...Cassie...?" blurted Starbuck, almost inhaling the watere blood smattered on her smock. Lords, it looked like something a butcher would wear... or a colo-rectal surgeon. "His blood pressure is rising." A woman further down told the doctor. Starbuck had not realized they were even monitoring his biofunctions. "So's mine just watching him." The doctor responded and the room broke up into lascivious laughter. "Laser mender." The doctor requested. "Laser mender." The assistant returned. A moment later they moved back and watched him carefully. "Release him." The doctor told them. Starbuck felt the women draw back. He slowly pushed himself up. Other than some numbness at the back of his head, he didn't feel any different. A slow smile spread across his face as he realized that whatever they had attempted had failed. "Now, dance!" Ravishing ordered him with a slow smile. Stay tuned to the next episode of the Starbuck Chronicles when you'll hear Borax say, "Well, at least I'm clean." *************** in shock. "How...?" "I have my sources," replied Boomer, shutting off the water. "Have you ever thought of maybe adopting them? You know, the colors for your coat of arms, perhaps?" "Arrrrhh!" said Starbuck, tossing a wet cloth at Boomer. With a laugh, Boomer left, and Starbuck returned to the luxuriance of his shower. He stood there, centon after centon, letting the hot water soothe his abused and battered muscles. Then, finally, reluctantly, he shut it off. Frack! I do look like I've been in a crash, he thought, as he dried and dressed. Then, back in uniform and looking ready to meet the world, he headed for the hatch. STARBUCK!! STARBUCK!!! STARB... "Oh frack!" he muttered, having momentarily forgot about the ten million or so screaming fans outside.He shut the hatch, and thought... Right. He headed for the maintenace hatch for the turbowash room, since only ship's workers were allowed there. Or Warriors escaping barbarian hoardes, I hope. he tapped the keypa in shock. "How...?" "I have my sources," replied Boomer, shutting off the water. "Have you ever thought of maybe adopting them? You know, the colors for your coat of arms, perhaps?" "Arrrrhh!" said Starbuck, tossing a wet cloth at Boomer. With a laugh, Boomer left, and Starbuck returned to the luxuriance of his shower. He stood there, centon after centon, letting the hot water soothe his abused and battered muscles. Then, finally, reluctantly, he shut it off. Frack! I do look like I've been in a crash, he thought, as he dried and dressed. Then, back in uniform and looking ready to meet the world, he headed for the hatch. STARBUCK!! STARBUCK!!! STARB... "Oh frack!" he muttered, having momentarily forgot about the ten million or so screaming fans outside.He shut the hatch, and thought... Right. He headed for the maintenace hatch for the turbowash room, since only ship's workers were allowed there. Or Warriors escaping barbarian hoardes, I hope. he tapped the keypaJaws Eats The Love Boat will not be seen at this time, in order that we may present the following equally hard to swallow program. When last we left our....heroes, Boomer was having drinks in Hades with a bunch of producers when he suddenly dissolved the arrangement, Sheba was a really great knocker, and Siress Belloby was implanting some sort of...device into Starbuck's body. WHAT can be happening? Heck, I don't know. What say we read, and find out, huh? ======= The Satyrbuck Chronicles, Part 55 "Dance?" said Starbuck, surprised. He had expected almost anything but that. "Dan..." Suddenly, his became stiff, one of the priestesses "oooohed" loudly, and he began to smoothly move across the room, to take Belloby in his arms. Lucifer came up. "Open wide, Lieutenant," he said. Starbuck did so, and the IL put a rose between his teeth. Baltar laughed. At once, Starbuck began to terpsichoriously undulate most flexibly across the room, Bellby in his arms. "Ooh, babee," Std, the door opened, and a smiling face greeted him. "Hey..." "Nice to see you again, Lieutenant," said the other, and before he could so much as blibk, Starbuck felt something sprayed in his face. His eyes stung, and he coughed, his lungs feeling like they were seizing up. He began to buckle, the last thing he heard a lingering laugh, before it all went black. ======= Part 3 Starbuck opened his eyes. He was either blind or it was really dark here, wherever here was. He started to sit up only to realize that his hands were behind his back. He tested the bonds and found they were relatively loose and made of material he could probably get out of with a little patience. He was sure he was still on the ship, he couldn't have been taken off without someone noticing. The big question was where had his attacker come from, Starbuck had been sure he was dead. ======= Part 4 He rolled to his left to find a good position from which to work on his bonds, then d, the door opened, and a smiling face greeted him. "Hey..." "Nice to see you again, Lieutenant," said the other, and before he could so much as blibk, Starbuck felt something sprayed in his face. His eyes stung, and he coughed, his lungs feeling like they were seizing up. He began to buckle, the last thing he heard a lingering laugh, before it all went black. ======= Part 3 Starbuck opened his eyes. He was either blind or it was really dark here, wherever here was. He started to sit up only to realize that his hands were behind his back. He tested the bonds and found they were relatively loose and made of material he could probably get out of with a little patience. He was sure he was still on the ship, he couldn't have been taken off without someone noticing. The big question was where had his attacker come from, Starbuck had been sure he was dead. ======= Part 4 He rolled to his left to find a good position from which to work on his bonds, then arbuck began to say, "you dance soo magnifique. It is like ze very angels, no?" "No," muttered Baltar. ======= "Of course," said Borax. "Ah, it feels so good to get out of that horrid Human form, and be me again. How do they stand it?" "Well," said Donald Bellisario, plopping some more ice into his glass of rye, "generally..." "Don't you know hyperbole when you hear it?" "Ohhh, is she here?" asked Glen Larson? "I haven't seen her since High School." "Humans!" spat Borax. "At least we aren't as ugly as you are!" burbled Ronald D. Moore. "At least I'm clean." "Funny," Moore said, to Larson. "I honestly never imagined he'd say that." ======= Back on the Galactica, Igraine, one of Apollo's previously unknown children, had stormed down the corridor, heading towards Apollo's quarters. Just how she knew the way was a mystery to Adama, who muttered as he and Tigh followed; "Iblis. It has to be Iblis behind all this." "No." realized, as his head cleared - and as his shoulder hit the cold steel of the deck - that his jacket and tunic were gone. And boots, too. Frack. And his holster and laser, he realized as he took mental stock, feeling around as best he could in the pitch black with his hands bound behind his back. *Ooh, Bucko, not good, not good...* he thought, chiding himself. ======= Part 5 As he lay there, trying to think, still his breathing, and try and come up with a plan, he also fought a rising sense of anger. Who the Hades did these people think they were? Kidnapping? What piece of fracking mong was behind this? And why? The deck was cold, but he could feel the vibration of the ship's engines through the metal. Yeah, he told himself, he was right. He was still on board. But who had snatched him? And why? He tried to think of all the people, in and out of the service, that he'd torqued off since they'd fled the Colonies. Uhh, there was Miriam's ex-boyfriend, and Noday's older brother, andrealized, as his head cleared - and as his shoulder hit the cold steel of the deck - that his jacket and tunic were gone. And boots, too. Frack. And his holster and laser, he realized as he took mental stock, feeling around as best he could in the pitch black with his hands bound behind his back. *Ooh, Bucko, not good, not good...* he thought, chiding himself. ======= Part 5 As he lay there, trying to think, still his breathing, and try and come up with a plan, he also fought a rising sense of anger. Who the Hades did these people think they were? Kidnapping? What piece of fracking mong was behind this? And why? The deck was cold, but he could feel the vibration of the ship's engines through the metal. Yeah, he told himself, he was right. He was still on board. But who had snatched him? And why? He tried to think of all the people, in and out of the service, that he'd torqued off since they'd fled the Colonies. Uhh, there was Miriam's ex-boyfriend, and Noday's older brother, and "No?" "No," said Iblis, his head leaning out of a wall, and looking at Adama. "Not me, Adama. No way. Uh uhh!" The evil Count jerked his head towards the retreating children, and rolled his eyes, before vanishing once more whence he came. "Well, that's sure good to know," said Adama. "Oh yeah," said Tigh. They caught up with the kids, in Apollo's quarters. Igraine was ranting on about things that no one would have expected a small girl to be ranting on about. Certainly not if they were the Commander of the only known surviving Colonial Battlestar, seeking the legendary planet Earth, supposedly home to the long-lost Thirteenth Tribe, which was reputed to have migrated their millenia ago when Kobol bit the dust. No way. "See?" said Igraine. "Not a single picture of Mom. There's this." "That's his sister, Iggy." said Puppis. "My point exactly!" said Igraine. "And don't call me 'Iggy'! She was whanging Starbuck like for ever. Another tart! And here!" She Athena's whole family, and Aurora... Okay, so that wasn't such a productive line of inquiry. As he lay there, slowly working his hands free, he noticed that the deckplate wasn't the only thing that was cold. The air itself was chill, reminding him of a frosty fall day back home. He kept on...yeah! His left hand at last slipped free of the cloth binding, and his right followed a few microns later. He tried and put his feet under him, and slowly rise... Only they didn't want to cooperate too well. His head swam and he felt like he was going to woof his mushies for a few centons, then it passed. The floor was cold on his bare feet, and he gingerly moved along, one foot sliding in front of the other, till he managed to bash a toe against something. After shaking his foot, and enhancing his vocabulary considerably, he reached out an arm, and felt a wall. Like the deck, it was cold to the touch, and there was a faint vibration in the metal. And frost. A thin veneer of frost covere Athena's whole family, and Aurora... Okay, so that wasn't such a productive line of inquiry. As he lay there, slowly working his hands free, he noticed that the deckplate wasn't the only thing that was cold. The air itself was chill, reminding him of a frosty fall day back home. He kept on...yeah! His left hand at last slipped free of the cloth binding, and his right followed a few microns later. He tried and put his feet under him, and slowly rise... Only they didn't want to cooperate too well. His head swam and he felt like he was going to woof his mushies for a few centons, then it passed. The floor was cold on his bare feet, and he gingerly moved along, one foot sliding in front of the other, till he managed to bash a toe against something. After shaking his foot, and enhancing his vocabulary considerably, he reached out an arm, and felt a wall. Like the deck, it was cold to the touch, and there was a faint vibration in the metal. And frost. A thin veneer of frost coverepointed to Apollo's computer desktop, where the Captain often played solitaire. "He's got some Bond Girl on here, but Mom? Noooooooooooooooooooo!!" "Colonel," said Adama." "Sir?" "Call Sergeant Reese, from Security. At once." "Reese, sir? But he just hates...." "Yes!" grinned Adama, laughing evilly. "Oh man!" shouted Jolly, suddenly entering. "Man! Knew I'd forgot the kids!" ======= "Umm...uh, I was going..." stammered Apollo, as the the great big knocker under his hand became Sheba. "Yes?" said Sheba, with a savage smile. "Well, I heard him cry out, and I was following..." "Apollo?" "Yes?" "Get your hand off my...the knocker." "Oh, right," said Apollo, and did so. "Apollo!" called a voice from up the corridor. "Apollo?" It was female, and, to Apollo, very familiar. "Vela?" he stammered, as the mother of all his biological children that we so far know about drew even with him. "Oh great," said Sheba, "hd the plates, and Starbuck began to notice that it was getting slowly colder by the centon. Standing here nearly naked, in a cold room, didn't give one hope for a long incarceration. "Hey!' he shouted, "let me the frack outta here!' No answer. "Come on, you golmonging snitradeous pile of daggit felcercarb! Open up! Show yourselves! You..." He pounded on the wall, but beyond a dull echo, got nothing for his trouble. He took another breath, and... And turned, as the sound of a latch or catch reached his ears. The room was flooded with light, as a door opened, and someone stood in it. The sudden brightness blinded him, and he turned away. "Hey, look. I want to..." "Well, " said a voice, which chilled Starbuck more than the coldness of his prison. "If it isn't the great Starbuck." "Look..." "I think he's ready, now." ======= Part 6 Starbuck punched the man trying to take him out of the room. Having been blinded for a moment, he hadn't noticed the bigger guy td the plates, and Starbuck began to notice that it was getting slowly colder by the centon. Standing here nearly naked, in a cold room, didn't give one hope for a long incarceration. "Hey!' he shouted, "let me the frack outta here!' No answer. "Come on, you golmonging snitradeous pile of daggit felcercarb! Open up! Show yourselves! You..." He pounded on the wall, but beyond a dull echo, got nothing for his trouble. He took another breath, and... And turned, as the sound of a latch or catch reached his ears. The room was flooded with light, as a door opened, and someone stood in it. The sudden brightness blinded him, and he turned away. "Hey, look. I want to..." "Well, " said a voice, which chilled Starbuck more than the coldness of his prison. "If it isn't the great Starbuck." "Look..." "I think he's ready, now." ======= Part 6 Starbuck punched the man trying to take him out of the room. Having been blinded for a moment, he hadn't noticed the bigger guy tere comes the cheesy part." "Apollo, I..." began Vela, when she spied Sheba, knocker still on her....never mind. "Well, I had no idea there was so much...lint under the bed. What's..." "Just me, honey. What, you think I hadn't seen that episode?" "When?" asked Apollo. "Colonel Tigh promised me he'd never..." "Come on!" said Sheba, reaching behind her to open the door. Red light and sulpherous fumes wafted forth. "W...where are we going?" asked Apollo, less and less sure he liked where this was going. "Don't worry, Captain," said Sheba. "You'll just love this little joyride!" ======= "Where'd everybody go?" asked Boxey, ignored for a while. ======= Yes, where are they going? WHAT lies beyond the door through which Sheba is dragging Apollo? Will Vela follow? WHAT lies ahead for Borax? Will his part be scrubbed? WHAT has really happened to Boomer? HOW will Starbuck survive as a dancer with a bad French accent? WHAT the Hades Hole(s) will Balthat had come in with the one who'd spoken. He knew that voice---if he could just place it. He felt a blow to the back of his head before everything went black. -- Apollo and Boomer looked at Jolly as the three stood waiting to leave the ship for the Galactica. "You haven't seen him?" Jolly shook his head. "No, I thought maybe he managed to sneak around the crowd. After I got them to leave, he wasn't back there." Apollo sighed heavily. "Let's go look." The three warriors headed for the locker area. ======= Part 7 He awoke to a biting sting in the left cheek and ear, followed by an equally...cold sensation down the side of his body. He gradually realized that he was lying curled on his left side with his hands tied - again - behind his back. And his feet were bound this time, as well, at the ankles. The place was pitch black. And the deck was freezing. *Blasted, fraking, golmonging freezing.* "Frak..." he muttered through chattering teeth as the fhat had come in with the one who'd spoken. He knew that voice---if he could just place it. He felt a blow to the back of his head before everything went black. -- Apollo and Boomer looked at Jolly as the three stood waiting to leave the ship for the Galactica. "You haven't seen him?" Jolly shook his head. "No, I thought maybe he managed to sneak around the crowd. After I got them to leave, he wasn't back there." Apollo sighed heavily. "Let's go look." The three warriors headed for the locker area. ======= Part 7 He awoke to a biting sting in the left cheek and ear, followed by an equally...cold sensation down the side of his body. He gradually realized that he was lying curled on his left side with his hands tied - again - behind his back. And his feet were bound this time, as well, at the ankles. The place was pitch black. And the deck was freezing. *Blasted, fraking, golmonging freezing.* "Frak..." he muttered through chattering teeth as the far and Lucifer do? WILL Memnoch, the Butler guy, AND the script ever be seen again? For the answers to whichever of these questions we can remember to put in, don't miss the next powerfully emetive episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Tune in again, when we'll here Donald Bellisario say, "Ron, where is the popcorn?" ======= When we last left the gang, Starbuck was under the control of a mind altering electronic device that was forcing him to... danse avec Siress Belloby et parle avec accent de francais. Ooh, tabernacle! Apollo had been tracked down like the daggit he is by Sheba and was being led into a mysterious room alit with crimson smoke and delicately scented with brimstone. As for Boomer, well... it was revealed that he has actually been missing for several episodes and was being impersonated by the blobishly shape-shifting brother of Korax (from VS Episode 14, Lessons In Allegiance, don't you know?), Borax. Boomer's whereabouts are as yet undetermined, but the writers arull extent of the frigid nature of his condition suddenly hit him. He shuddered and shivered, then willed himself to move. Move! He rolled and strained and heaved himself upright with a loud groan. The effort sent shooting spears of pain through what he'd thought was a numb left arm. Not so, apparently. Just nearly frozen. He gritted his teeth and tried to huddle tight, knees drawn up, hoping to find the slightest bit of warmth. *Just where the frak am I... * he wondered, trying to focus his mind. *Just where...* in a moment of clairvoyance, it hit him: the freezer in the ship's galley. *Oh, frak...* A latched clanged. Light flooded the room once more. He squinted against the blinding glare.... ====== "I think," said a voice, "he's nearly ready." Starbuck looked up, but could see only a silhouette against the light. He was squinting in the powerful light, unable to determine anything. Not even gender. "Hey, what the..." "Ooooh, he spoke!" said a voice somewhere. ull extent of the frigid nature of his condition suddenly hit him. He shuddered and shivered, then willed himself to move. Move! He rolled and strained and heaved himself upright with a loud groan. The effort sent shooting spears of pain through what he'd thought was a numb left arm. Not so, apparently. Just nearly frozen. He gritted his teeth and tried to huddle tight, knees drawn up, hoping to find the slightest bit of warmth. *Just where the frak am I... * he wondered, trying to focus his mind. *Just where...* in a moment of clairvoyance, it hit him: the freezer in the ship's galley. *Oh, frak...* A latched clanged. Light flooded the room once more. He squinted against the blinding glare.... ====== "I think," said a voice, "he's nearly ready." Starbuck looked up, but could see only a silhouette against the light. He was squinting in the powerful light, unable to determine anything. Not even gender. "Hey, what the..." "Ooooh, he spoke!" said a voice somewhere. e searching day and night to find him. Well, maybe not, but we'll consider it soon. Borax has actually been a lot more fun that Boomer was. However, now that he has let himself go, shape-wise, this writer has personally found him much less appealing. I digress... Part 56 The former priestesses stood in a small huddle watching Starbuck swirl around the dance floor with Doctor Ravishing, aka Siress Belloby. "Wow, he sure can dance." One of them muttered as he dipped Belloby low to the floor and then swept her back up before circling the room again. "Uh... don't know about you lot, but this wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I signed on for this daggit and equine show." The youngest stated. "She's right you know, this is not what Dr Ravishing talked about when she mentioned the mind control disc." Another added. "Uh... just where is that control anyhow?" the youngest asked as she looked over by the operating theatre that had so recently been abandoned. The control "Silence!" said the first voice, and there was a sound like a sharp snapping or a crack. "He must be prepared." "I don't like the sound of that very much," said Starbuck, trying to calm the shivering from the cold. "Could we sort of, well, renegotiate? I'm a reasona..." "Shut....up!" said the first voice, and then, turning to someone, said; "Bring him!" "Hey, hey," said Starbuck, as hands of unseen forms grabbed him. While he could see no faces, the hands were warm, and somewhat small. Still, they gripped like steel, and he heard numerous voices "oooh"ing and "aaah"ing as he was lifted from the cold floor. "C-c-c-could I have some clothes, please?" "Silence!" "Okay, but be careful. I bruise easy!" ======= Don't miss the next exciting episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Tune in again, when we'll hear Aurora say, "Honestly, I don't think I ever met an Orion hasher." ======= "What do you mean 'he isn't in there'?" Apollo stared at Boomer, his "Silence!" said the first voice, and there was a sound like a sharp snapping or a crack. "He must be prepared." "I don't like the sound of that very much," said Starbuck, trying to calm the shivering from the cold. "Could we sort of, well, renegotiate? I'm a reasona..." "Shut....up!" said the first voice, and then, turning to someone, said; "Bring him!" "Hey, hey," said Starbuck, as hands of unseen forms grabbed him. While he could see no faces, the hands were warm, and somewhat small. Still, they gripped like steel, and he heard numerous voices "oooh"ing and "aaah"ing as he was lifted from the cold floor. "C-c-c-could I have some clothes, please?" "Silence!" "Okay, but be careful. I bruise easy!" ======= Don't miss the next exciting episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Tune in again, when we'll hear Aurora say, "Honestly, I don't think I ever met an Orion hasher." ======= "What do you mean 'he isn't in there'?" Apollo stared at Boomer, hislay abandoned on the stretcher. "Ooh, there it is. Ladies, it's time to *get busy*!" She swept up the control and, with her finger poised over the buttons, said, "Music please!" As much as Starbuck tried to stop dancing, it was simply beyond his control. He couldn't believe that some piece of electronic felgercarb could have such complete and utter control of his body. He tried to curse and swear at the woman in his arms forcing him to waltz like an effeminate dance hall boy, but every time he opened his mouth he would start speaking... "Voulez-vous promenade avec moi, ce soir?" he purred into Belloby's ear as his mind recoiled in horror at how-- `what the festering felgercarb have you done to me?'-- could turn into such accented drivel. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the priestesses standing watching him. One of them grinned lasciviously at him as she held a small black box. She had her finger over it. He had a bad feeling about this. Athena pulled on her new black brow knitted in frustration. Boomer shook his head. "Just what I said. He's not in there." He waved a hand in the general direction of the portal to the locker room. "Well, he can't just have disappeared!" Apollo threw up his arms. "When I..." He let his voice trail off. Jolly let out a slow breath and stared down the now-empty corridor. "Maybe he's taking the 'long way' to the shuttle bay. After all, those girls were pretty persistent." "Maybe..." Boomer frowned, then looked at the captain. "I don't know. I've got a bad feeling about this..." Apollo ran his fingers through his hair. "Well, let's head to the bridge and see if we can locate him on any of the security monitors." As they strode toward the bridge, Jolly muttered, "Who'd have thought that a triad exhibition could turn into such a golmonging mess." As they passed by the waiting area for the shuttle bay, Apollo started briefly when he caught sight of a familiar face. Aurora. She was involved in a brow knitted in frustration. Boomer shook his head. "Just what I said. He's not in there." He waved a hand in the general direction of the portal to the locker room. "Well, he can't just have disappeared!" Apollo threw up his arms. "When I..." He let his voice trail off. Jolly let out a slow breath and stared down the now-empty corridor. "Maybe he's taking the 'long way' to the shuttle bay. After all, those girls were pretty persistent." "Maybe..." Boomer frowned, then looked at the captain. "I don't know. I've got a bad feeling about this..." Apollo ran his fingers through his hair. "Well, let's head to the bridge and see if we can locate him on any of the security monitors." As they strode toward the bridge, Jolly muttered, "Who'd have thought that a triad exhibition could turn into such a golmonging mess." As they passed by the waiting area for the shuttle bay, Apollo started briefly when he caught sight of a familiar face. Aurora. She was involved in a lingerie. It made her feel positively delicious. She admired herself in the mirror as she heard the door slip open and felt a sudden presence in her room. "Hmm. Nice." The low voice growled as he moved closer to her. "Where did you get that?" "I did a little wormhole shopping today." Athena responded with a slow smile as she felt his arms slip around her hips, pulling her close to him. "Mmm. Where have you been all of my life?" "Always close by, but still too far away." He replied as he brushed her hair back from her face and nuzzled her exposed earlobe. "I'm so glad you were finally able to get some time off." Athena told him as she turned in his arms and embraced him. "Not as glad as I am. Always handy to know the local shape-shifters." He responded as he pulled her close and kissed her. "Are there many of them?" Athena asked as she arched her long neck, allowing him access as he began to nibble and kiss his way along it. "Korax, Borax, Thorax, Floorwax... conversation with a man that did not look like the one she'd been with on the Celestra. This man was tall and built like an ursus, and his arms were draped around the electronics technician. As they passed by, Apollo couldn't help but notice the fawning look on her face as she said, "Honestly, I don't think I ever met an Orion hasher..." Apollo shook his head and focused back on their task of locating one missing lieutenant. ------- As his eyes adjusted to the light, Starbuck twisted his head to try to get a look at his captors as they dragged him by the arms out of his frosty jail cell. Who they were remained a mystery, however, because they were all - all six or seven that he could see - dressed in white, flowing shrouds with hoods and masks that concealed their faces. The only visible features were the hands. Yet, it took little effort to figure out that these people were definitely female - he could tell from the flow of the shrouds as they walked, as well as from telltale sigconversation with a man that did not look like the one she'd been with on the Celestra. This man was tall and built like an ursus, and his arms were draped around the electronics technician. As they passed by, Apollo couldn't help but notice the fawning look on her face as she said, "Honestly, I don't think I ever met an Orion hasher..." Apollo shook his head and focused back on their task of locating one missing lieutenant. ------- As his eyes adjusted to the light, Starbuck twisted his head to try to get a look at his captors as they dragged him by the arms out of his frosty jail cell. Who they were remained a mystery, however, because they were all - all six or seven that he could see - dressed in white, flowing shrouds with hoods and masks that concealed their faces. The only visible features were the hands. Yet, it took little effort to figure out that these people were definitely female - he could tell from the flow of the shrouds as they walked, as well as from telltale sig" Boomer muttered distractedly as he concentrated on seducing the beautiful woman he had been spending the last 12 episodes with. "Crank the tunes, Girls!" the young priestess called out as a super-sonic-boom-box was started up. The back beat filled the room drowning out the classical music that Starbuck and Belloby were dancing to. Starbuck froze as the young woman hit a button on the control box. Luckily, Lucifer stepped in and Belloby kept on twirling, this time away from the lieutenant. The woman grinned at him and moved forward surrounded by her fellow insurgents. Her hips swayed to the rhythm as she approached him. Starbuck could feel his heart beating in time to the music. It was a raunchy, raucous tune he hadn't heard since frequenting the bars in the bawdiest district of Caprica City. The music increased in volume and a sudden sulphuric odour permeated his senses. A reddish glow was cast on the room as the women formed a circle and started pulling off their robes, displns, such as their voices and their strong, yet slim hands. The knowledge was hardly comforting, though. Gazing at the ghostly figures in white, he felt a chill beyond the effects of the deep freeze. As a shudder ran down his spine, he forced himself to ignore the fact that they had a distinct advantage over him, since he was dressed only in his military briefs, his arms were secured quite tightly behind his back, and he was still shivering uncontrollably from the dip his body temperature had taken. So he concentrate on just where they might be taking him. They had traversed a long, dark corridor. Now, they came to a stop at what appeared to be the entrance to a maintenance shaft. With deft fingers, one of the figures twisted the lever to next to the small portal and swung open the hatch. They started to maneuver him in -- Starbuck jerks his arms and twisted with all of his strength. He succeeded in wrenching himself free, and he tumbled to the deck. However, when he tried to scramble ns, such as their voices and their strong, yet slim hands. The knowledge was hardly comforting, though. Gazing at the ghostly figures in white, he felt a chill beyond the effects of the deep freeze. As a shudder ran down his spine, he forced himself to ignore the fact that they had a distinct advantage over him, since he was dressed only in his military briefs, his arms were secured quite tightly behind his back, and he was still shivering uncontrollably from the dip his body temperature had taken. So he concentrate on just where they might be taking him. They had traversed a long, dark corridor. Now, they came to a stop at what appeared to be the entrance to a maintenance shaft. With deft fingers, one of the figures twisted the lever to next to the small portal and swung open the hatch. They started to maneuver him in -- Starbuck jerks his arms and twisted with all of his strength. He succeeded in wrenching himself free, and he tumbled to the deck. However, when he tried to scramble aying clinging bodysuits which assaulted his senses even more. The young woman sidled up to him and ran a finger down his chest. She licked her lips seductively as she winked at him. She mouthed something to him, which he couldn't hear due to the volume of the song. When he looked at her in confusion she simply grinned again and held up the remote control. She pushed the button. "Uh, Sheba, where are we?" Apollo asked as he watched the reddish smoke waft out of the room. Loud raucous music boomed from the room, which seemed to be filled with shapely young women in a circle watching... He wasn't sure what. "Divas-R-Us." Sheba told him with a smile. "You don't actually think I was enough of a dupe that I was going to be out on patrol the entire time you were away, do you?" She grinned evilly as Apollo's eyes opened wide in surprise. She started to chuckle as he backed away from her only to smack into Vela. "Keep walking, Captain." Vela told him. "We have a little something plto his feet and run, his legs were still rubbery from a lack of circulation. He stumbled and crashed back down to the deck, landing unceremoniously on his face. Winded, he lay panting. "Foolish idea." The voice - that voice - sounded almost amused. Almost. Hands yanked him onto his back, and Starbuck found himself staring up at the lethal point of a gleaming dagger blade. "Don't try that again," the shrouded figure growled, her voice slow and menacing. "Foolish. Foolish of you!" said another of the masked captors. "So you said," replied Starbuck. "Silence!" "Okay." "Here are his clothes," said Apollo, in the locker room. Starbuck's outfit lay where he'd left it, across from the turbowashes. Nothing odd here, the Captain decided. The triad outfir held no pockets or secrets. "And the only other way out of here is that hatch," said Boomer, pointing across the room. The two Warriors made their way across the wet, humid room, to the far door. Once opened, it onlto his feet and run, his legs were still rubbery from a lack of circulation. He stumbled and crashed back down to the deck, landing unceremoniously on his face. Winded, he lay panting. "Foolish idea." The voice - that voice - sounded almost amused. Almost. Hands yanked him onto his back, and Starbuck found himself staring up at the lethal point of a gleaming dagger blade. "Don't try that again," the shrouded figure growled, her voice slow and menacing. "Foolish. Foolish of you!" said another of the masked captors. "So you said," replied Starbuck. "Silence!" "Okay." "Here are his clothes," said Apollo, in the locker room. Starbuck's outfit lay where he'd left it, across from the turbowashes. Nothing odd here, the Captain decided. The triad outfir held no pockets or secrets. "And the only other way out of here is that hatch," said Boomer, pointing across the room. The two Warriors made their way across the wet, humid room, to the far door. Once opened, it onlanned for you." Apollo looked back at her in surprise. "Vela? You and Sheba are in on this together?" "Well, Sheba dropped off the brochure for Divas-R-Us on her way down here. I thought it looked really interesting. And since a certain lover of mine decided to drop me like a bad cubit to go help a friend, I thought I would join the party." She smiled pleasantly at him as she jabbed him in the astrum with her newly acquired laser. "Move it, Captain." Together they shoved him in the room and the door swung closed. The room was dense with people and smoke as bodies swayed to the music. Oddly, they all seemed to be watching one dancer. The man had his back to Apollo as he gyrated and moved around the floor. Every set of female eyes in the room was on him. Apollo looked over at Sheba and Vela who were chewing their lips as they watched the dancer. The Captain looked back at the man whose body was slick with sweat. He was dressed in nothing but the briefest of shorts as he strutted bay showed a darkened corridor, leading away from the triad courts. The corridor was empty, and silent, save for the distant throbbing of the Rising Star's engines. "Nothing here." "Wait," said Apollo. "This corridor is dark.' "Yeah," said Boomer. "That happens when they turn the lights off." Apollo looked at him a long moment, then reminded him: "Regulations, Boomer. When the area is full of people like tonight, the lights have to be on. Safety." "Right. And this corridor is dark." "At the time Starbuck vanishes." Apollo looked down the empty corridor, and searched for the switch. At last finding it, he dispelled the gloom, and the two Warriors were off, down the passage. The room he found himself in was chilly, but not the biting cold of the freezer, and Starbuck began to feel a tiny bit better. He was drug through the door, and tossed onto something flat and hard. Tossed none too gently, for he once more had the wind knocked out of him. He was flat on his back, y showed a darkened corridor, leading away from the triad courts. The corridor was empty, and silent, save for the distant throbbing of the Rising Star's engines. "Nothing here." "Wait," said Apollo. "This corridor is dark.' "Yeah," said Boomer. "That happens when they turn the lights off." Apollo looked at him a long moment, then reminded him: "Regulations, Boomer. When the area is full of people like tonight, the lights have to be on. Safety." "Right. And this corridor is dark." "At the time Starbuck vanishes." Apollo looked down the empty corridor, and searched for the switch. At last finding it, he dispelled the gloom, and the two Warriors were off, down the passage. The room he found himself in was chilly, but not the biting cold of the freezer, and Starbuck began to feel a tiny bit better. He was drug through the door, and tossed onto something flat and hard. Tossed none too gently, for he once more had the wind knocked out of him. He was flat on his back, ck and forth between the women, teasing and tantalizing with his every movement. Women shouted, cheered and whistled their approval as the dancer came ever closer to their groping fingertips. They ached to touch him, but delaying the moment was even sweeter torture to them all. A voice called out, "Starbuck", beginning to chant his name. The others joined in the chorus... as a horrified Strike Captain watched from the sidelines. "Your turn, oh Captain, my Captain." Sheba leered at him, as she and Vela dragged him towards Dr Ravishing's operating theatre. "No!" Apollo cried out, mortified. "Oh, dear God, please let this be a dream!" A white light briefly distracted him as he stared above to see a group of men watching from an enclosed theatre box. "Darling, this is no dream, it's the Starbuck Chronicles." Sheba replied as she pushed him onto the awaiting stretcher. "Well, Don, I think this clinches it. I think Starbuck stays. Tell Boomer, no deal." Glen Larsen told him aand staring upwards. Staring into a... Mirror? The room was mostly in darkness, lit solely by a candle in the hand of one of the berobed figures. Slowly, other candles were touched to it's flame, till each of his captors was holding a long tapered candle. He tried to sit up, and discovered he was lying on a slab, not of metal, but of stone. Oh Frack! "Welcome, Starbuck," said a voice, but Starbuck mcould not tell from which figure it came. "Now! The time has come! The time we..." "You call this a welcome?" he replied. "Baltar's BaseShip was cozier than this. I de...' He stopped, as he was belted across the mouth by something both soft, and heavy. "Please be quiet. You're spoiling my setup," said the voice. "Sorry, it's just I.." Thwump! "Ohgay!" "That's better, Starbuck," said the speaker, patting his swelling cheek. "Nothing," said Boomer, as they came to the end of the corridor. "This just leads to the upper levels.' "Yeah. Looks land staring upwards. Staring into a... Mirror? The room was mostly in darkness, lit solely by a candle in the hand of one of the berobed figures. Slowly, other candles were touched to it's flame, till each of his captors was holding a long tapered candle. He tried to sit up, and discovered he was lying on a slab, not of metal, but of stone. Oh Frack! "Welcome, Starbuck," said a voice, but Starbuck mcould not tell from which figure it came. "Now! The time has come! The time we..." "You call this a welcome?" he replied. "Baltar's BaseShip was cozier than this. I de...' He stopped, as he was belted across the mouth by something both soft, and heavy. "Please be quiet. You're spoiling my setup," said the voice. "Sorry, it's just I.." Thwump! "Ohgay!" "That's better, Starbuck," said the speaker, patting his swelling cheek. "Nothing," said Boomer, as they came to the end of the corridor. "This just leads to the upper levels.' "Yeah. Looks ls he drank his Ambrosa, pulling the little pink umbrella out of it and throwing it off the balcony. "What about Apollo? Do you think he can dance?" Donald Bellisario asked the others. "I guess we're about to find out. Doubt it though. After all, Adama isn't exactly known for swirling his way around dance floors. Face it, Starbuck has it in his genes." Ronald B Moore replied. "I don't think it's his `genes' that the ladies are trying to get into," Glen guffawed as he reached for the cheetos. "What say we blow out of here, pick up Memnoch and return for another round at Hades Holes?" Glen suggested. "Only if that little butler guy is going to carry the clubs. I'm tired. By the way, Ron, where is the popcorn?" Don asked. Will the dynamic dance duo of Starbuck and Apollo ever escape the clutches of Divas-R-Us? Will the Divas ever get their clutches on Starbuck? Will he mind? For the answers to these and even more mind blowing questions that I can't think of this closeike a dead...hey!" ======= And that was Part 10 of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Don't miss our next thrill-packed episode. Tune in again, when we'll hear Sire Uri say, "I hope they have a decent vintage of grog here. Not too fizzy." ======= Through the white shroud wrapped around his captor's face, Starbuck could see the faint outline of eyes gazing down at him. Even barely discernible, they sent a shiver through his already chilled body as they locked with his gaze. He felt, rather than saw, cold intent in those eyes, as well as the satisfied curl to the woman's lip. His heart pounded against his chest, in his ears; the mind behind those eyes was *not* sane, he knew. So enraptured by his captor's gaze, he did not realize - until too late - that his wrists had been cut free and were being bound to the edge of the stone slab. A tug on his ankles snapped his attention back, and he tried to pull, roll, struggle free. Hands grasped his limbs, nails stabbing through his skin asike a dead...hey!" ======= And that was Part 10 of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Don't miss our next thrill-packed episode. Tune in again, when we'll hear Sire Uri say, "I hope they have a decent vintage of grog here. Not too fizzy." ======= Through the white shroud wrapped around his captor's face, Starbuck could see the faint outline of eyes gazing down at him. Even barely discernible, they sent a shiver through his already chilled body as they locked with his gaze. He felt, rather than saw, cold intent in those eyes, as well as the satisfied curl to the woman's lip. His heart pounded against his chest, in his ears; the mind behind those eyes was *not* sane, he knew. So enraptured by his captor's gaze, he did not realize - until too late - that his wrists had been cut free and were being bound to the edge of the stone slab. A tug on his ankles snapped his attention back, and he tried to pull, roll, struggle free. Hands grasped his limbs, nails stabbing through his skin as to bedtime, stayed tuned to the Starbuck Chronicles, when you'll hear Apollo say, "My other left foot will be stuck up your astrum soon if you don't stop slagging my dancing". Part 57 "I think it's broken," Starbuck groaned as he sat on the small bench in the tiny back room holding his aching foot. "Oh, stop with the histrionics!" Apollo snarled at him, but noticed with faint regret that the foot was indeed looking a colourful shade of black and blue. He rubbed the back of his neck as the last couple of centars ran through his mind. He had thought he had finally tracked his buddy down as he made his way through the dimly lit labyrinth beneath the lascivious streets of Cordugo Pit. Finally he had arrived at the doorway to Starbuck's apparent prison when Sheba and Vela had accosted him. His mind boggled at the turn of events that followed as he discovered Starbuck scantily clad and entertaining a group of women with a bawdy styled dance that was reminiscent of the infamous the women gripped him with vice-like holds and finished their task. The swirl of white shrouds made his head spin. He squeezed his eyes shut and tugged and writhed with a sudden surge of panic. *Thwump.* Something whacked against his chest. It was soft but heavy, and while it hurt enough to grab his attention - so that he snapped his eyes open and froze mid-struggle - the pain quickly faded to a mild stinging sensation. He gazed up to see his captor standing above him, arms raised, a white braided whip, made from what seemed to be the same fabric as their clothing, held high above her shrouded head in one hand... and the long, evil-looking dagger in the other. ======= "Oh Frack!' said Starbuck! ======= Don't miss our next exciting episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Tune in again when we'll hear one of the insane captors say, "Actually, he looks awfully cute in that Triad outfit. Don't you think?" ======= And now... Apollo picked up the feathery soft, whi the women gripped him with vice-like holds and finished their task. The swirl of white shrouds made his head spin. He squeezed his eyes shut and tugged and writhed with a sudden surge of panic. *Thwump.* Something whacked against his chest. It was soft but heavy, and while it hurt enough to grab his attention - so that he snapped his eyes open and froze mid-struggle - the pain quickly faded to a mild stinging sensation. He gazed up to see his captor standing above him, arms raised, a white braided whip, made from what seemed to be the same fabric as their clothing, held high above her shrouded head in one hand... and the long, evil-looking dagger in the other. ======= "Oh Frack!' said Starbuck! ======= Don't miss our next exciting episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Tune in again when we'll hear one of the insane captors say, "Actually, he looks awfully cute in that Triad outfit. Don't you think?" ======= And now... Apollo picked up the feathery soft, whiChip and Dale Dance Team. Of course, Starbuck didn't have the hirsute nature of Chip and Dale, nor the cute cropped tail and protruding front teeth, but the women didn't seem to mind as they followed him hungrily with their eyes around the floor as his lean, toned body moved in time to the beat of the music. The next thing the good captain knew, he was face down on a portable operating table having a mind control disc inserted at the base of his skull. A centon later he was joining Starbuck in the animalistic dance ritual. Only there was one problem. He couldn't dance. His mind was telling him to wiggle his hips and spin, but his diametrically opposed lack of talent had him stomping on Starbuck's bare foot with his military issued boots and knocking the sweat-covered lieutenant to the ground. Starbuck's recovery was remarkable and Apollo gaped in amazement as the lieutenant started spinning on one shoulder and was soon back on his feet swaying, bumping and grinding his way aroundte material that had been caught in the sealed hatch to an adjacent maintence shaft, fingering it as he studied it. "What in Kobol's name would this be doing here..." Boomer gazed into the opened shaft. A ladder ran vertically through the narrow tube. "I don't know, but it's as good an indicator as any that this is the way to go." He glanced up, then down the dark shaft. "But which way?" "Down," said Apollo, going with his first instinct, which was about all they had to go on. "All the upper levels are habitation levels and more populated. But down, it's just storage and engine rooms and such." "Yeah," grunted Boomer, climbing into the shaft. "And a lot more places to hide." ****** *Must be a dream. Gotta be a dream. Or rather, make that a nightmare. Must have made it back to the OC after the triad game. Too many ambrosas and grogs. Now I'm paying for it. Or maybe this is payback for all of those wild nights before I met Cassie. But that should count for something. Hey! te material that had been caught in the sealed hatch to an adjacent maintence shaft, fingering it as he studied it. "What in Kobol's name would this be doing here..." Boomer gazed into the opened shaft. A ladder ran vertically through the narrow tube. "I don't know, but it's as good an indicator as any that this is the way to go." He glanced up, then down the dark shaft. "But which way?" "Down," said Apollo, going with his first instinct, which was about all they had to go on. "All the upper levels are habitation levels and more populated. But down, it's just storage and engine rooms and such." "Yeah," grunted Boomer, climbing into the shaft. "And a lot more places to hide." ****** *Must be a dream. Gotta be a dream. Or rather, make that a nightmare. Must have made it back to the OC after the triad game. Too many ambrosas and grogs. Now I'm paying for it. Or maybe this is payback for all of those wild nights before I met Cassie. But that should count for something. Hey! the room. The women had formed a large circle, which was growing by the centon as word of the act made its way to streets of Cordugo Pit. A table was now set up at the door and the membership of Divas-R-Us was growing exponentially as cubits changed hands and membership cards were passed out. As much as Apollo tried to fight it, he began following Starbuck, his body attempting to mimic the raunchy moves. Alas, Adama had trained long and hard for a career as a military man, not a dancer, and deoxyribonucleic acid is a force that is not to be reckoned with. Apollo began to feel positively squirrelly as his two left feet continued to disrupt the dance routine. Women were alternatively peeling with laughter and drooling with lust as they alternated watching the two men perform in their own special way. For well over a centar they were forced to debase themselves and perform like trained daggits as women tucked Cordugo notes into Starbuck's briefs and pelted the Captain with cubits. TI'm a reformed man! * These thoughts careened through Starbuck's mind as he stared up at the figures who now encircled him. The whip-wielding, knife-bearing, maniacal leader stood at his bound feet as the other eight shrouded women held hands, forming a white veil around him. They rocked and swayed and began to chant, a murmured, repititious chorus in what might have been Gemonese: "*Maena heda kansus roto. Maena heda kansus roto. Maena heda kansus roto.*" The figures began to circle and their voices grew louder, more insistent. Colder. Passionate, yet desperate. Starbuck swung his head around and yanked on his bonds. His breaths came in gasps. Then he locked eyes on the leader. And froze. She had flung the whip aside to grasp the dagger with both hands. She took two slow, deliberate steps forward so that she stood over him, across him, the soft fabric of the shroud sliding up his legs as she moved. The blade of the dagger, held high above her head, pointed down at his heart, now... I'm a reformed man! * These thoughts careened through Starbuck's mind as he stared up at the figures who now encircled him. The whip-wielding, knife-bearing, maniacal leader stood at his bound feet as the other eight shrouded women held hands, forming a white veil around him. They rocked and swayed and began to chant, a murmured, repititious chorus in what might have been Gemonese: "*Maena heda kansus roto. Maena heda kansus roto. Maena heda kansus roto.*" The figures began to circle and their voices grew louder, more insistent. Colder. Passionate, yet desperate. Starbuck swung his head around and yanked on his bonds. His breaths came in gasps. Then he locked eyes on the leader. And froze. She had flung the whip aside to grasp the dagger with both hands. She took two slow, deliberate steps forward so that she stood over him, across him, the soft fabric of the shroud sliding up his legs as she moved. The blade of the dagger, held high above her head, pointed down at his heart, now... he worst of it was the captain was certain that Starbuck was enjoying it. "Histrionics! You stomped on my frackin' foot, Apollo!" Starbuck looked at him in disgust. "Where did you learn to dance? The Seismic and Seizure Disorder Dance Clinic for People with No Rhythm and Less Natural Ability? Hades, even Chip and Dale looked sexier than you out there." "Listen to yourself! We've both been outfitted with mind control devices that force us to... dance," he spat the word out with abhorrence, "and you're upset that I don't look sexy enough!" "You call that dancing? Hades, I've seen Cylons move with more style and grace than you." Starbuck replied, completely unfazed. "Starbuck, my other left foot will be stuck up your astrum soon if you don't stop slagging my dancing and focus. We should be thinking about how we're going to get out of this, not critiquing each other's dance styles." "Style --is probably the wrong word to use, Apollo." Starbuck commented. "By the way, what d "*Maena heda kansus roto. Maena heda kansus roto. Maena heda kansus roto.*" The woman slowly, slowly lowered the blade until, with her arms stretch downward and her back ramrod straight, the dagger was a mere centimetron above his chest. "Look, can't we just talk about this first," Starbuck said, loudly, to be heard above the chanting. Releasing the dagger with one hand, the women slowly swept back the hood to her shroud, revealing a smug, sinister and - vaguely - familiar face. The woman from the freighter Gemon, he realized in a sudden burst of recognition. The one who had threatened Cassiopeia when he first found her among the refugees. The one who was a member of the Ortori Sect. The one who didn't believe in physical contact between the sexes except once very seven yahrens. But what in the holy Hades frakking name of Sagan was this?! The woman caught the look of recognition and a cold smile curled across her lips. "So you remember. *Vile one*." She spat the last tw "*Maena heda kansus roto. Maena heda kansus roto. Maena heda kansus roto.*" The woman slowly, slowly lowered the blade until, with her arms stretch downward and her back ramrod straight, the dagger was a mere centimetron above his chest. "Look, can't we just talk about this first," Starbuck said, loudly, to be heard above the chanting. Releasing the dagger with one hand, the women slowly swept back the hood to her shroud, revealing a smug, sinister and - vaguely - familiar face. The woman from the freighter Gemon, he realized in a sudden burst of recognition. The one who had threatened Cassiopeia when he first found her among the refugees. The one who was a member of the Ortori Sect. The one who didn't believe in physical contact between the sexes except once very seven yahrens. But what in the holy Hades frakking name of Sagan was this?! The woman caught the look of recognition and a cold smile curled across her lips. "So you remember. *Vile one*." She spat the last twid you think of my dancing?" His eyebrow quirked and an amused grin crossed his features. "Are you kidding? Lords, Starbuck, you are so full of yourself sometimes... " Apollo sputtered in astonishment as he watched the lieutenant begin to double over in laughter. "Enough about me, " Starbuck chuckled as he wiped tears from his cheeks. "So what do you think about... me?" He again exploded in laughter as Apollo glared at him. "Honestly, Starbuck... " Apollo couldn't help the faint smile that crossed his face as he truly thought about their predicament. The unbeatable Colonial Warriors that had been awarded Gold Clusters for bravery in the face of adversity, now reduced to exotic dancing for a cult of women, which apparently included Sheba and Vela. "So... how were the tips?" He nodded his head to the Cordugo Note sticking out of the top of Starbuck's briefs. "Buddy, we made more tonight than we would in six sectars with the service." Starbuck pulled the stray note out of his wo words. "You who parade around the Fleet, now, as a hero, with that piece of daggit mong as a consort. Defiling everything we hold dear to us." "Well, I -- *oooff*" "Silence!" she growled, kicking his ribs with her heel. The chanting had ceased. The woman's shrill voice echoed in his ears. He glanced around to see that the followers had also swept back their hoods to reveal pale, young - and in any other setting - quite attractive faces. One even leaned to her neighbor and whispered, "Actually, he looks awfully cute in his skivvies. Don't you think?" "What was that?" "Nothing, milady!" The look she received from the leader could have melted the bulkhead. The girl glued her eyes to the floor and trembled visibly. "I am the High Priestess," the woman said, her voice slow and low as she returned her attention to her victim. "And our Rules of Sanctimonious Piety demand that we purify our Gemonese culture of the actions of your vile Socialator consort." "Rules o words. "You who parade around the Fleet, now, as a hero, with that piece of daggit mong as a consort. Defiling everything we hold dear to us." "Well, I -- *oooff*" "Silence!" she growled, kicking his ribs with her heel. The chanting had ceased. The woman's shrill voice echoed in his ears. He glanced around to see that the followers had also swept back their hoods to reveal pale, young - and in any other setting - quite attractive faces. One even leaned to her neighbor and whispered, "Actually, he looks awfully cute in his skivvies. Don't you think?" "What was that?" "Nothing, milady!" The look she received from the leader could have melted the bulkhead. The girl glued her eyes to the floor and trembled visibly. "I am the High Priestess," the woman said, her voice slow and low as she returned her attention to her victim. "And our Rules of Sanctimonious Piety demand that we purify our Gemonese culture of the actions of your vile Socialator consort." "Rules aistband. "How about you, did you manage to hold onto any of those cubits they were tossing your way?" "Well, at first I was too disgusted at the situation to debase myself by picking them up. Then, as I began to realize that every cubit I left lying on the floor was simply yet another potential projectile to the Divas, I started pocketing them. Yeah, it's anice little nest egg for our retirement." "Nest egg for our retirement!" Starbuck looked at him incredulously. "Buddy, I'm thinking we do the town. Find the best restaurant in Cordugo Pit, a couple high quality fumarellos, two beautiful women..." "No women! Lords, I think I'll go back to working overtime and spending quality time with Boxey." Apollo replied shaking his head. After what Sheba and Vela had done to him, the last thing he wanted was another relationship with another yet-to-be-revealed psychotic female. "Buddy, the problem with you is women take you too seriously. You show them that sensitive side of you thatof Sanctim... what? Demand what?" Starbuck stared at his captor, mouth open, eyes wide. *Surely this is just a nightmare...* ======= Tune in again, to see the next thril, chill, and spill-packed episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Don't miss it, when you'll hear Muffit say, "Ruff! Ruff!" ======= "No. it isn't," replied the Gemonese woman. Starbuck blinked, not realizing that he had spoken the thought aloud. Had he? His head was beginning to pound... The woman's lip curled in a snarl. Her beady, penetrating eyes drilled into the lieutenant's. "Your blood will cleanse her sins." Her voice was a menacing whisper. "Prepare for the journey to Hades, you who be the consort of the one who would defile our Sacred Order and scorn the Rules of Sanctimonious Piety..." The woman's eyes had closed and her voice trailed off. She slowly raised the dagger above her head. Starbuck noted, along with his rising panic, that her breathing had become deeper, almost in gasps. A loof Sanctim... what? Demand what?" Starbuck stared at his captor, mouth open, eyes wide. *Surely this is just a nightmare...* ======= Tune in again, to see the next thril, chill, and spill-packed episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Don't miss it, when you'll hear Muffit say, "Ruff! Ruff!" ======= "No. it isn't," replied the Gemonese woman. Starbuck blinked, not realizing that he had spoken the thought aloud. Had he? His head was beginning to pound... The woman's lip curled in a snarl. Her beady, penetrating eyes drilled into the lieutenant's. "Your blood will cleanse her sins." Her voice was a menacing whisper. "Prepare for the journey to Hades, you who be the consort of the one who would defile our Sacred Order and scorn the Rules of Sanctimonious Piety..." The woman's eyes had closed and her voice trailed off. She slowly raised the dagger above her head. Starbuck noted, along with his rising panic, that her breathing had become deeper, almost in gasps. A lo women get all sentimental over, and the next thing you know, they want to own you. You need to discover casual sex, my friend. It's rewarding, yet so much less constraining." Starbuck told him with a glitter in his eyes. "Says the man who's been dating Cassiopeia almost exclusively for several sectons now." "Hey, I haven't even seen Cassiopeia for... uh... fifty-seven episodes now. I think that opens up my exclusivity factor. Whatchathink? A night out on the town? Just the two of us. It will be like old times." Apollo looked at the eager lieutenant. "Starbuck, one problem remains. How do we get out of here?" "Buddy, I have Cordugo Notes in my hands, my best friend at my side, and a night on the town in my immediate future. I'll get us out of here." He grinned at the Captain roguishly. Just what lies in store for our BSG boys on their night on the town? Will Starbuck be able to break them out of the tiny room with the small bench? Will they be able to escape the covenlw moan escaped as her mouth parted. She held the blade high, her back ridged, her arms trembling. "Die..." she breathed. She stretched up even further, poised to plunge the dagger down -- "NO!" A white figure broke the circle and leaped at the woman, tackling her in what - under other circumstances - would have been an expert triad tackle. The two tumbled to the deck. "You said he was OURS!" shrieked Starbuck's unlikely rescuer. The lieutenant twisted around as much as he could to watch the struggle. The younger woman, her eyes wild with rage, had the older woman's wrist in one hand and her throat in the other. She banged the hand until the dagger clattered free. The rest of the followers stared in horror for several micron. Then, as their leader's true intentions sunk in, their eyes lit with the same fire that had fueled Starbuck's rescuer. As if someone had pressed 'play' on a vid that had been paused, the other women rushed forward to help their comrade. A flurry of white shrw moan escaped as her mouth parted. She held the blade high, her back ridged, her arms trembling. "Die..." she breathed. She stretched up even further, poised to plunge the dagger down -- "NO!" A white figure broke the circle and leaped at the woman, tackling her in what - under other circumstances - would have been an expert triad tackle. The two tumbled to the deck. "You said he was OURS!" shrieked Starbuck's unlikely rescuer. The lieutenant twisted around as much as he could to watch the struggle. The younger woman, her eyes wild with rage, had the older woman's wrist in one hand and her throat in the other. She banged the hand until the dagger clattered free. The rest of the followers stared in horror for several micron. Then, as their leader's true intentions sunk in, their eyes lit with the same fire that had fueled Starbuck's rescuer. As if someone had pressed 'play' on a vid that had been paused, the other women rushed forward to help their comrade. A flurry of white shry clutches of Divas-R-Us? Will they ever find their way off Cordugo Pit and get back to the Galactica. Oh, and what happened to the superfluous characters? And what exactly did the infamous dance routine of Chip and Dale look like? Will Starbuck find some clothes? Is his foot really broken? Is anybody reading this? Stay tuned for the next episode when we'll hear someone say, "Oh, suffering Lord Sagan, me bollocks are burst!" Part 58 ======= "Four!" shouted Larson, swinging his club. He watched the ball sail across the landscape of the 55th hole, to be finally lost in a waft of sulpherous smoke. He began to curse loudly. "Double Bogey again, Glen?" asked Donald Bellisario, sipping his rye. "Fracking felcercarb galmonging snitradious...." "Yeah, guess so. So, hey, Ronnie 'ol boy." "Yeah?" replied Moore, closley inspecting his balls. "You checked out what Starbuck and Apollo are into now?" He laughed. "What a script!" "Sheba's pissed, right?" "Oouds flowed over and around the warrior as he watched - and listened - in disbelief. "You said he was *ours*!" repeated one woman. "Ours!" echoed another. Or maybe it was the same one. The shrieking, crazed voices seemed to blend into one. "We have waited seven yahrens - SEVEN YAHRENS! And we will NOT be denied!" Starbuck felt his head swimming as he watched the followers quickly subdue their - former, he supposed with a wild thought -- High Priestess, binding her arms, legs, and mouth with cords pulled from seemingly nowhere and then dumping her unceremoniously in a corner. For a moment, as the threat of imminent death suddenly vanished, he grinned in relief. And then the pack turned to face the lieutenant. Starbuck's grin faded quickly as he took in the wild look in the eyes of the eight women. They were flushed and panting from the exertion, and... the anticipation. *Seven yahrens.* It didn't take a rocket scientist to know what these practically drooling women wanteouds flowed over and around the warrior as he watched - and listened - in disbelief. "You said he was *ours*!" repeated one woman. "Ours!" echoed another. Or maybe it was the same one. The shrieking, crazed voices seemed to blend into one. "We have waited seven yahrens - SEVEN YAHRENS! And we will NOT be denied!" Starbuck felt his head swimming as he watched the followers quickly subdue their - former, he supposed with a wild thought -- High Priestess, binding her arms, legs, and mouth with cords pulled from seemingly nowhere and then dumping her unceremoniously in a corner. For a moment, as the threat of imminent death suddenly vanished, he grinned in relief. And then the pack turned to face the lieutenant. Starbuck's grin faded quickly as he took in the wild look in the eyes of the eight women. They were flushed and panting from the exertion, and... the anticipation. *Seven yahrens.* It didn't take a rocket scientist to know what these practically drooling women wanteh yeah," laughed the other. "Like mad." "Imagine that." "Yup. Here, have some popcorn?" "Yeah." "Mongously encrusted Boray astrums, for Sagan's sake...." "Glen having a bad day?" asked RDM. "Look like is." "Imagine that." "Not to worry. I'm sure he'll deal with it." "So, what's next?" asked RDM. "Haven't you reviewed the script?" "Nah. Just a little bit. All I needed to give me the flavor of it." "I see." Bellisario watched as the little butler guy came up, and handed him his club. He took his place at the tee, and addressed the ball. He swung... Excellent signed the butler. "AAAAAAAAHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" came a horrific scream from across the course. "You okay, Glen?" asked Bellisario. "Oh, suffering Lord Sagan, me bollocks are burst!" "Huh," said RDM, squinting at the other through the flames. "Imagine that." Really excellent! Tune in next time, for the next infernalld as they stared down at the warrior. He smiled again weakly, not missing the irony of it all. ******** Will Starbuck live out his wildest fantasy -- or maybe worst nightmare? Will Apollo and Boomer arrive in time? Or is it all just an ambrosa-induced hallucination? ********* "Cut! Okay, Dirk? I need to see that grin a bit wider." "Wider. Right." "After all, a whole room full of hot ladies is after you, and you're bound to a pagan altar stone, down to your scivvies." "Okay. I know it's a dirty job, but somebody's got to do it! Of course, these ropes are a bit tight. And the stone's chilly, too." "Well, the discomfort is but for a day. Film is forever, Benedict." "Okay. I get ya. march or die, right?" "That's the spirit, Dirk. Okay, camera, we want to zoom in on Dirk for this next one. Right side of his face. Got me?" "Right, Mr. Director." "Okay, sounds good. Okay, top of page 62, everybody. Let's...Hey, you. What's your name?" d as they stared down at the warrior. He smiled again weakly, not missing the irony of it all. ******** Will Starbuck live out his wildest fantasy -- or maybe worst nightmare? Will Apollo and Boomer arrive in time? Or is it all just an ambrosa-induced hallucination? ********* "Cut! Okay, Dirk? I need to see that grin a bit wider." "Wider. Right." "After all, a whole room full of hot ladies is after you, and you're bound to a pagan altar stone, down to your scivvies." "Okay. I know it's a dirty job, but somebody's got to do it! Of course, these ropes are a bit tight. And the stone's chilly, too." "Well, the discomfort is but for a day. Film is forever, Benedict." "Okay. I get ya. march or die, right?" "That's the spirit, Dirk. Okay, camera, we want to zoom in on Dirk for this next one. Right side of his face. Got me?" "Right, Mr. Director." "Okay, sounds good. Okay, top of page 62, everybody. Let's...Hey, you. What's your name?" y sulpherous episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Be here (Aloha), when we'll hear Athean say, "Enlargements? Are you trying to tell me something?" ======= "So, how do you propose we get out of here?" Apollo asked Starbuck as he looked around the tiny dressing room with a single bench. As much as he was reluctant to accompany Starbuck on his idea of a night on the town, the alternative was staying behind toperpetuate his dancing career in the evil clutches of Diva's-R-Us. Silence was his only reply. He turned to take a look at the mute lieutenant. Starbuck was pale and shaken as he looked back at his friend. "Lords, Starbuck, what is it? Is it your foot?" The guilt was overwhelming as he looked down at the bruised and slightly swollen extremity, which he had stomped on with his combat boots while attempting to dance. "Don't... say... *that*." Starbuck stuttered. "What?" Apollo asked the shaken man as he gripped his shoulder in concern. "Pro...pro... propo... "Sally, sir." "Okay, Sally. You need to scream a bit louder. just a bit. Your followers have just rebelled, and you're going down. I..Oh jeez! Makeup! Makeup! Her mascara needs touching up! God, we're on a schedule! We go over budget again, and ABC will kill us!" "How's this?" "Great, Suzie." "Sally, sir." "Right. Whatever. Okay, is everyone ready? Dirk, I...Dirk?" "Huh? Oh, just checking the script. I was wondering, this line here; 'Look Apollo, you explain it to Cassie'. Is that before or after I get cut loose? I didn't get all the pink pages at lunch." "After. Don't worry, Dirk. Now, ARE WE READY, people? Okay, and...ACTION!" ======= Don't miss the next exciting episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Tune in again when we'll hear Siress Belloby say, "Oh, I need a real...animal!" ======= All the women stared down at him. They're grins were slowly turning from those of ravenous starving daggits. Starbuck watched as each woman began "Sally, sir." "Okay, Sally. You need to scream a bit louder. just a bit. Your followers have just rebelled, and you're going down. I..Oh jeez! Makeup! Makeup! Her mascara needs touching up! God, we're on a schedule! We go over budget again, and ABC will kill us!" "How's this?" "Great, Suzie." "Sally, sir." "Right. Whatever. Okay, is everyone ready? Dirk, I...Dirk?" "Huh? Oh, just checking the script. I was wondering, this line here; 'Look Apollo, you explain it to Cassie'. Is that before or after I get cut loose? I didn't get all the pink pages at lunch." "After. Don't worry, Dirk. Now, ARE WE READY, people? Okay, and...ACTION!" ======= Don't miss the next exciting episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Tune in again when we'll hear Siress Belloby say, "Oh, I need a real...animal!" ======= All the women stared down at him. They're grins were slowly turning from those of ravenous starving daggits. Starbuck watched as each woman began to realize for themselves that yes, they would be having their way. The leers softened into sweet smiles, antcipation of bliss. "Uh Ladies, listen, I know what you want, and I think I'm up for it." Starbuck laughed at his own bad pun. "If you'll just remove these restraints, I'm sure we can work something out." One of the robed women turned to another. "Go get the equipment." "Equipment? Uh, what are you talking about? Trust me gals, the only equipment you need is something to get rid of these restraints." The women didn't answer him. Instead they stared down at him, and Starbuck for some reason suddenly felt like a bug under a microscope. The one woman returned wheeling in a large machine full of tubes and wires. She removed several needles, and handed out one to each of the women. They each took the needles and expertly inserted it into a vein in their arm. Then the woman approached him with a rather large needle and tube. "What in hades are you doingpropose." Starbuck stammered. An involuntary shudder ran through his body. "Are you kidding me?" Apollo shook his head. "Lords, if only the Imperious Leader knew that the Great Starbuck could be taken down by a few simple references to marriage. "OOH! Stop!" Starbuck recoiled in apparent pain and horror. "You're pathetic." Apollo told him as he paced the room in frustration. Four paces from side to side. Six paces from corner to corner. He already knew every nook and cranny in the small prison. He had even carefully noted that the magenta paint had recently replaced chartreuse. Lords, the mere idea of being surrounded by four walls covered in magenta... His pulse quickened at the very thought. "You said you could get us out. How?" "Me? Mr. Pathetic? How could I possibly get us out of here? No. Let's just stay. In fact, I think I like it here. At least I can put my foot up until the next performance." Apollo blew a deep breath out between his teeth. "Starbuck..." his teto realize for themselves that yes, they would be having their way. The leers softened into sweet smiles, antcipation of bliss. "Uh Ladies, listen, I know what you want, and I think I'm up for it." Starbuck laughed at his own bad pun. "If you'll just remove these restraints, I'm sure we can work something out." One of the robed women turned to another. "Go get the equipment." "Equipment? Uh, what are you talking about? Trust me gals, the only equipment you need is something to get rid of these restraints." The women didn't answer him. Instead they stared down at him, and Starbuck for some reason suddenly felt like a bug under a microscope. The one woman returned wheeling in a large machine full of tubes and wires. She removed several needles, and handed out one to each of the women. They each took the needles and expertly inserted it into a vein in their arm. Then the woman approached him with a rather large needle and tube. "What in hades are you doingnsion surrounded him like an oversized sweater that his Grandmother had knitted for him as a lad. It was Magenta too, now that he thought about it. His Grandmother had wanted more girls in the family apparently. Starbuck had just sat down on the bench and elevated his sore foot. He looked at the captain, noting his flushed skin and clenched fists. Oh oh, Apollo looked like he was going to blow a gasket. The captain walked towards him with malignant intent etched clearly on his features. His hand reached out towards Starbuck as the lieutenant reflexively drew back. "Okay. I'll get us out." Apollo's hand stopped short of his friend's neck. "Starbuck, I'll warn you now. I'm at the end of my rope here. I came here to help you and because of that I've had a mind control device surgically implanted in me against my will, which forces me to strut around in time with the music in front of a crowd of horny women." "You're really not in time with the beat, Buddy. Just to clear that little !" Starbuck yelled, struggling hard. "Relax Lieutenant. This will take but a moment. We just need a little of your DNA, pure DNA." Each woman sighed and closed her eyes. "You are going to father a whole new generation of change." One woman said, stroking the hair out of his eyes with one hand, and reaching to hold his eye open with the other. The needle slowly approached him, growing every closer to his held open eye. He tried to fight it, but the woman was strong. "You girls like to play rough don't you?" Starbuck said, just as he freed one arm. "Just hold still," the voice purred. You *really* don't want to move right now -" Starbuck shoved the woman's shoulder with his freed hand and knocked her off balance. With the same motion, he rolled to his right, squeezing his eyes shut and swinging blindly at the apparatus. His arm jarred against something. But then the pack was upon him. Hands grabbed his swinging arm, quickly wrenching it back down. For a micron!" Starbuck yelled, struggling hard. "Relax Lieutenant. This will take but a moment. We just need a little of your DNA, pure DNA." Each woman sighed and closed her eyes. "You are going to father a whole new generation of change." One woman said, stroking the hair out of his eyes with one hand, and reaching to hold his eye open with the other. The needle slowly approached him, growing every closer to his held open eye. He tried to fight it, but the woman was strong. "You girls like to play rough don't you?" Starbuck said, just as he freed one arm. "Just hold still," the voice purred. You *really* don't want to move right now -" Starbuck shoved the woman's shoulder with his freed hand and knocked her off balance. With the same motion, he rolled to his right, squeezing his eyes shut and swinging blindly at the apparatus. His arm jarred against something. But then the pack was upon him. Hands grabbed his swinging arm, quickly wrenching it back down. For a micronpoint up." "Starbuck!" Apollo snapped at him. "Get me the frack out of here!" "Not a problem, Buddy." He pointed at the ceiling. * * * * * Boomer pulled Athena closer as they snuggled on the longseat looking through her collection of holoptics. He nuzzled her ear as he whispered tender words to her. She giggled as she dropped the album, putting her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. Lords, he felt good. It was such a pleasure to get some quiet time alone with a man like Boomer. Sexy, intelligent, humorous, and thoughtful, she was certain she was falling for him. She listened as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear. All work and no play make Aphrodite a dull girl, after all. She hadn't dated many men after her and Starbuck drifted apart. She told herself she simply didn't have the time nor the inclination, but now she realized she just hadn't wanted to be hurt again. Why did she go after a guy like Starbuck to begin with? Lords! He might as well h more, he struggled, but with an *umph* of expelled air, he found himself immobilized under the weight of at least half dozen warm bodies. He opened his eyes to see a young, blonde woman staring down at him. For a moment, her smile was tender, and she softly stroked the hair from his eyes. "We will have our way," she murmured. "We just need your DNA, sweetie..." All at once, her eyes went cold, her mouth firm. A needle appeared in her hand. Unable to even breath, let alone move, Starbuck's eyes widened as he watched the woman. With skilled hands, she jabbed the needle into his neck, then sat back to stare down at him. Her face swam for a moment, the soft smile returning... then the world washed into nothingness. ********* "It's got to be this level," mumbled Boomer as he climbed from the service ladder onto the platform by the maintenance hatch. He and Apollo had searched every other one with no success, and the time wasted left them both with a pressing sense of urgency. more, he struggled, but with an *umph* of expelled air, he found himself immobilized under the weight of at least half dozen warm bodies. He opened his eyes to see a young, blonde woman staring down at him. For a moment, her smile was tender, and she softly stroked the hair from his eyes. "We will have our way," she murmured. "We just need your DNA, sweetie..." All at once, her eyes went cold, her mouth firm. A needle appeared in her hand. Unable to even breath, let alone move, Starbuck's eyes widened as he watched the woman. With skilled hands, she jabbed the needle into his neck, then sat back to stare down at him. Her face swam for a moment, the soft smile returning... then the world washed into nothingness. ********* "It's got to be this level," mumbled Boomer as he climbed from the service ladder onto the platform by the maintenance hatch. He and Apollo had searched every other one with no success, and the time wasted left them both with a pressing sense of urgency. ave a big, neon sign saying `terrified of commitment' hanging around his neck. Well, Boomer was just the opposite. But Boomer seemed to have something that Starbuck lacked. Maturity. Boomer was ready to settle down with one woman and treat her likeshe was a goddess. He sure as Hades worshipped her body as though she were a Goddess. The Goddess Athena. She giggled again at the absurd thought as his low voice purred in her ear and his hands caressed her. Her eyes suddenly opened wide and she pulled back to stare him in the eyes, "Enlargements? Are you trying to tell me something?" Somehow, she got the idea he wasn't talking about the holoptics anymore. * * * * * "What?" Apollo looked blankly up at the ceiling. "Our way out, Buddy." Starbuck stood and climbed up on the bench. He pushed one of the ceiling panels aside to reveal a crawl space above them. "Can you see where it goes?" Apollo asked. Somehow it seemed too easy. "Give me a leg up," Starbuck told him and "Let's hope so..." Apollo tapped in his access code, and the hatch hissed open. He scrambled through into the dimly lit passage. Rows and rows of panels lined each side; they were in the bowels of the ship, and no one without authorization *should* have been able to enter here... They turned the corner. The passage widen into a maintenance sub-command station, with banks of controls. Apollo took one look - and froze at the sight before him. "Lords of Kobol," murmured Boomer as he stopped in his tracks beside the captain. They had found the missing lieutenant. He lay unmoving, bound, gagged, blindfolded, and nearly naked, curled into a fetal position on the cold, hard deck. From where they stood, they could not tell whether he was alive - or not. ==== "Apollo, I can't tell if he's alive or dead." "Well, Boomer, if we moved closer, maybe we could tell." "Right." "Uh huh." "That must be why you're a Captain, Captain." "Yeah." So said, Boomer "Let's hope so..." Apollo tapped in his access code, and the hatch hissed open. He scrambled through into the dimly lit passage. Rows and rows of panels lined each side; they were in the bowels of the ship, and no one without authorization *should* have been able to enter here... They turned the corner. The passage widen into a maintenance sub-command station, with banks of controls. Apollo took one look - and froze at the sight before him. "Lords of Kobol," murmured Boomer as he stopped in his tracks beside the captain. They had found the missing lieutenant. He lay unmoving, bound, gagged, blindfolded, and nearly naked, curled into a fetal position on the cold, hard deck. From where they stood, they could not tell whether he was alive - or not. ==== "Apollo, I can't tell if he's alive or dead." "Well, Boomer, if we moved closer, maybe we could tell." "Right." "Uh huh." "That must be why you're a Captain, Captain." "Yeah." So said, Boomer moved closer, and knelt next to the insensate Warrior. After a few moments, he looked up at Apollo, nodding. "He's okay. We'd better call the med techs." As he spoke, Boomer removed his jacket, wrapping the other in it for warmth. He looked up to see Apollo gazing down at him. "What are you looking at?" As he spoke, the light suddenly failed, plunging the whole chamber into darkness, a darkness scarcely broken by the blinking buttons on various consoles. "Same thing you are," replied Apollo. "Oooooooooohh, more samples!" said a voice, somewhere in the dark. "Apollo." "Yeah, Boomer?" "I think we're in real trouble." == Don't miss the next thrill-packed episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Tune in again, when we'll hear Starbuck say, "Hey! Who took my capstone?" == Giggles. And a lustful sounding growl. "Show yourselves!" Apollo grabbed his laser from his holster, swinging around in the dark, trying to locate the source of the voices. Boomer, placed his good foot in his friend's grip as he was boosted up into the crawl space. He peered ahead into the darkness. "No. I can't see anything. Coming?" Apollo looked skeptically at him. "Well, I guess anything is better than being a sideshow." He climbed onto the bench and reached up for Starbuck's outstretched arm. He was pulled into the crawl space alongside the lieutenant. "Smells like sulphur." "This whole planet smells like sulphur. It also has a weird red glow to it. Did you notice?" "Yeah, like `fire and brimstone'." Apollo commented. "Hades..." Starbuck muttered. "It's not just a golf course, you know." Apollo reminded him. "Hmm." Starbuck remarked uncomfortably as he began to crawl forward through the shaft. They continued on in silence for some time. The temperature began to rise and Starbuck could feel sweat beading on his brow. "It's getting hot." "I have a bad feeling about this, Starbuck." Apollo told him. The hair at the nape of his neck w moved closer, and knelt next to the insensate Warrior. After a few moments, he looked up at Apollo, nodding. "He's okay. We'd better call the med techs." As he spoke, Boomer removed his jacket, wrapping the other in it for warmth. He looked up to see Apollo gazing down at him. "What are you looking at?" As he spoke, the light suddenly failed, plunging the whole chamber into darkness, a darkness scarcely broken by the blinking buttons on various consoles. "Same thing you are," replied Apollo. "Oooooooooohh, more samples!" said a voice, somewhere in the dark. "Apollo." "Yeah, Boomer?" "I think we're in real trouble." == Don't miss the next thrill-packed episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Tune in again, when we'll hear Starbuck say, "Hey! Who took my capstone?" == Giggles. And a lustful sounding growl. "Show yourselves!" Apollo grabbed his laser from his holster, swinging around in the dark, trying to locate the source of the voices. Boomer, likewise, drew his weapon. "'Fraid not, Captain," said a voice from the dark - a smooth, confident, *creepy* voice. A hissing sound erupted above the warriors. "Oh, frak!" muttered Boomer. A micron later, both men doubled over, coughing and choking, gasping for air as the gas enveloped them. Within less than a centon, the warriors crumpled to the deck on top of their sleeping buddy. ****** "Uuuugh." Boomer blinked and grabbed at his pounding head, which felt as if it might explode and his fingers were the only thing holding it together. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut again and fought back a sudden wave of nausea. After several long centons, the feeling abated, and the hammering in his skull subsided to a dull ache. Once more, he cracked an eye and attempted to focus on something... anything. "Uuuuugh!" He was in a confined space, on the cold, hard floor, and as he looked up and out, he saw... bars. A brig, he realized in a flash. He struggled to sit up, casting his as sticking up. Starbuck nodded absently as he continued to crawl slightly ahead of his friend in the dark. The surface of the shaft was also heating up. He waved his hands in the air to cool them slightly before again getting down on all fours to continue on. He could hear Apollo muttering slightly behind him. If it got any warmer they would end up with burnt hands and knees as their bare skin came in contact with the hot metal shaft. He was just beginning to wonder if it would be wiser to retreat when abruptly his right hand shot forward into empty space and his torso followed suit, due to his forward momentum. "Frack!" he shouted as his body began free falling through the humid air. Stay tuned for the next purgatorial episode of the Starbuck Chronicles when you'll hear Apollo say, "Go to Hades. Go directly to Hades. Do not pass go. Do not collect 200 cubits." ======= Part 60 Free falling into darkness. It was like a nightequa. Only the complete awareness that he was wi likewise, drew his weapon. "'Fraid not, Captain," said a voice from the dark - a smooth, confident, *creepy* voice. A hissing sound erupted above the warriors. "Oh, frak!" muttered Boomer. A micron later, both men doubled over, coughing and choking, gasping for air as the gas enveloped them. Within less than a centon, the warriors crumpled to the deck on top of their sleeping buddy. ****** "Uuuugh." Boomer blinked and grabbed at his pounding head, which felt as if it might explode and his fingers were the only thing holding it together. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut again and fought back a sudden wave of nausea. After several long centons, the feeling abated, and the hammering in his skull subsided to a dull ache. Once more, he cracked an eye and attempted to focus on something... anything. "Uuuuugh!" He was in a confined space, on the cold, hard floor, and as he looked up and out, he saw... bars. A brig, he realized in a flash. He struggled to sit up, casting his eyes around in the dim light. Apollo lay on one side of him, Starbuck on the other. And all three were minus everything except their briefs. "Where are we...?" Apollo moaned and rolled slowly to a sitting position. He shook his head, rubbed his eyes, then jumped. "Hey!" he yelped, acutely aware of their less-than-desirable (well, maybe that depended on from whose point of view one took) state of undressedness. "It would seem," Boomer said drily as he turned to their other companion, "that we are in a brig somewhere." "How's..." the captain nodded towards Starbuck, who lay on his back, unmoving, but snoring softly. The gag and bonds had been removed, at least. Boomer took a moment to check him over. "Sleeping, I think," he said at length. "He must have gotten a double dose of gas and..." He glanced at the captain. "And whatever had knocked him out in the first place." "Well, we need to find out what in Hades is going on here!" Apollo crawled around until he was on the otde awake made it even more frightening. The humid air grew increasingly warm as Starbuck hurtled downward. There was no possible way he could survive the fall. But, it was the waiting that was killing him. His hands flailed helplessly as he sought to grab something... anything that would slow his mad descent into the void beneath him. The sulphuric stench that filled his senses became even more overpowering the further he fell. His breathing became laboured as the hot air seemed to burn his airway. Each inhalation was tortuous as he fought to keep his breathing slow and steady. He cupped a hand over his mouth, as if he could somehow filter the fumes that penetrated his lungs. *Like that would help, Bucko. *After a moment, he reached into a pocket, and pulled out something Cassie had forgotten a while back, after they...well.....and put it over his face. He sneezed, as the lace tickled his nose. And still he fell. Deeper and deeper. To his... * * * * * "Starbuck!" Apoeyes around in the dim light. Apollo lay on one side of him, Starbuck on the other. And all three were minus everything except their briefs. "Where are we...?" Apollo moaned and rolled slowly to a sitting position. He shook his head, rubbed his eyes, then jumped. "Hey!" he yelped, acutely aware of their less-than-desirable (well, maybe that depended on from whose point of view one took) state of undressedness. "It would seem," Boomer said drily as he turned to their other companion, "that we are in a brig somewhere." "How's..." the captain nodded towards Starbuck, who lay on his back, unmoving, but snoring softly. The gag and bonds had been removed, at least. Boomer took a moment to check him over. "Sleeping, I think," he said at length. "He must have gotten a double dose of gas and..." He glanced at the captain. "And whatever had knocked him out in the first place." "Well, we need to find out what in Hades is going on here!" Apollo crawled around until he was on the other side of the lieutenant. "Wake up!" he said, shaking his shoulder. Starbuck mumbled, stirred, but didn't wake. "Up and at 'em!" barked Apollo, slapping him gently on the cheeks. This time the lieutenant grabbed weakly for Apollo as his eyes fluttered open. The captain eased Starbuck up until he was sitting, staring at his friends with a look of utter confusion. He looked from one face to another, then down to his hands. "Hey! Who took my capstone!" he muttered. "Starbuck!" said Apollo, sounding more than a bit annoyed now. "Wake up! We need to know what's going on." Starbuck squinted at the captain, rubbing his forehead, then swung his head towards Boomer, his eyes running up and down each. "Hey... where're your clothes?" He glanced down. "Frak! Where're mine?" "So, are you with us now?" Boomer sat on his knees, staring at a bleared-eyed Starbuck. The lieutenant ran a hand through his hair and down his face. "Yeah," he said eventually. "I think so. Althoullo shouted as he saw his friend disappear into nothingness. "Frack!... frack!... frack!..." echoed back at him, almost mocking him as the voice grew dimmer.Apollo crawled slowly forward, carefully placing one hand in front of the other. He stopped and spat into his hands, which were beginning to burn with the heat of the shaft. "Starbuck!" he called again. No answer. "What in the Lords... ?" Apollo muttered as he advanced on the position where Starbuck had simply disappeared. He was well aware that the Lieutenant hadn't seen what lay ahead of him when he had plummeted into... whatever it was. He patted blindly ahead of him in the darkness and tried to make out the opening that swallowed his buddy, as sweat dripped from his face. Eerily, the walls of the shaft suddenly began to glow again with the same reddish cast that had seemed to encompass them earlier. Apollo realized that they hadn't really noticed the gradual diminishment of the strange light. Oddly, jusher side of the lieutenant. "Wake up!" he said, shaking his shoulder. Starbuck mumbled, stirred, but didn't wake. "Up and at 'em!" barked Apollo, slapping him gently on the cheeks. This time the lieutenant grabbed weakly for Apollo as his eyes fluttered open. The captain eased Starbuck up until he was sitting, staring at his friends with a look of utter confusion. He looked from one face to another, then down to his hands. "Hey! Who took my capstone!" he muttered. "Starbuck!" said Apollo, sounding more than a bit annoyed now. "Wake up! We need to know what's going on." Starbuck squinted at the captain, rubbing his forehead, then swung his head towards Boomer, his eyes running up and down each. "Hey... where're your clothes?" He glanced down. "Frak! Where're mine?" "So, are you with us now?" Boomer sat on his knees, staring at a bleared-eyed Starbuck. The lieutenant ran a hand through his hair and down his face. "Yeah," he said eventually. "I think so. Although..." he glanced up at Apollo, who stood staring out through the bars. The captain turned at the hesitation. "What?" he asked quietly, his previous exasperation having subsided as he had finally taken in his friend's disheveled and battered appearance, the bumps and bruises. Starbuck let out a long, slow breath. "I'm not sure.... I mean - the things I remember... they...I don't think..." His voice trailed off. "Go on," said Boomer. "Just tell us." Starbuck suddenly burst to his feet. "Look! It can't be true!" He banged a fist against the wall, then turned back to his friends, his face furrowed in frustration. "The things I remember - it's gotta be a dream. So I have no clue as to what *really* happened." "Okay, so just tell us what you *do* remember - even if it's a dream." Apollo pressed gently. Starbuck ran his hand through his hair again and leaned against the wall, staring away from his buddies. Finally, he described waking up in the deep freeze, the group oft as Starbuck was about to approach the breach in the shaft, the light had been almost completely extinguished. Almost as if... an involuntary shiver ran through his body. Which was odd, since he had shivered voluntarily a few times already. * * * * * "BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" cackled Belloby, watching events unfold before her in her crystal ball. "Everything is just going according to my Mistress Plan!!" "I have to admit, Bells, that look on Apollo's face almost makes up for fifty-one eps of deep patrols." Sheba scratched herself in one of those places the TV censors wouldn't like her to. "Takes a toll on a girl's padding, all that sitting on a seat designed by a masochist, let me tell you." "You're telling me," replied Belloby, adjusting a knob on the crystal ball. She squirmed, trying to get comfy. "You...are squashing me!!!!" gurgled Baltar. "No mong, Megabrain! Oooh!" gurgled Belloby, bouncing on her seat. "Here comes some good sgh..." he glanced up at Apollo, who stood staring out through the bars. The captain turned at the hesitation. "What?" he asked quietly, his previous exasperation having subsided as he had finally taken in his friend's disheveled and battered appearance, the bumps and bruises. Starbuck let out a long, slow breath. "I'm not sure.... I mean - the things I remember... they...I don't think..." His voice trailed off. "Go on," said Boomer. "Just tell us." Starbuck suddenly burst to his feet. "Look! It can't be true!" He banged a fist against the wall, then turned back to his friends, his face furrowed in frustration. "The things I remember - it's gotta be a dream. So I have no clue as to what *really* happened." "Okay, so just tell us what you *do* remember - even if it's a dream." Apollo pressed gently. Starbuck ran his hand through his hair again and leaned against the wall, staring away from his buddies. Finally, he described waking up in the deep freeze, the group of crazed women from the Ortori Sect, their maniacal leader and her aborted plan to rearrange his body parts, and then the their ranting about wanting his DNA before he was knocked out again. As he related the incidents, Apollo glanced at Boomer. They would have questioned his sanity as much as he seemed to be doing, if they weren't all currently locked in an old brig in some unknown location - unknown ship, for all they knew - in nothing but their briefs. Throw in the fact that both Boomer and Apollo had heard the giggling girls... "Uh, Starbuck?" Apollo said after the lieutenant had finished with a loud sigh, continuing to avoid their gazes. "Yeah?" He kept his eyes glued to a speck of dust on the floor. "You're gonna tell me I'm nuts, right?" "Nope." Starbuck snapped his attention to the captain. "We both heard and briefly saw these crazed cultists. So I'd say we believe that it all really happened." Starbuck shifted his gaze to Boomer. His buddy raised his eyebrows and notuff!" ************* As the walls glowed brighter and brighter, Apollo saw the hole through which Starbuck had fallen. He stopped, grateful to have seen it in time. He peered over the edge, but could see only darkness in the stygian depths below, As he began to back up, he noticed several things. One, a small card was rising out of the aforemention stygian depths. It emerged into the light, and he tentitively reached out for it. It was printed in an ancient and obscure Colonial dialect, known to scholars as Monopolon, and he had to puzzle it for a bit. Suddenly it came to him. "Go to Hades. Go directly to Hades. Do not pass Go, do not collect 200 cubits," he said, reading the card aloud. Second, he noticed another card. He took it as well. It said: Happy Landings. "Happy Landings?" "Yes," said another card. "Happy landings." "But, I..." Third, the tunnel beneath him suddenly opened up, and Apollo found himself following St crazed women from the Ortori Sect, their maniacal leader and her aborted plan to rearrange his body parts, and then the their ranting about wanting his DNA before he was knocked out again. As he related the incidents, Apollo glanced at Boomer. They would have questioned his sanity as much as he seemed to be doing, if they weren't all currently locked in an old brig in some unknown location - unknown ship, for all they knew - in nothing but their briefs. Throw in the fact that both Boomer and Apollo had heard the giggling girls... "Uh, Starbuck?" Apollo said after the lieutenant had finished with a loud sigh, continuing to avoid their gazes. "Yeah?" He kept his eyes glued to a speck of dust on the floor. "You're gonna tell me I'm nuts, right?" "Nope." Starbuck snapped his attention to the captain. "We both heard and briefly saw these crazed cultists. So I'd say we believe that it all really happened." Starbuck shifted his gaze to Boomer. His buddy raised his eyebrows and nodded, and Starbuck burst out laughing in relief. "So either I'm not nuts - or we all are!" Boomer snorted. "Either way," he said, "this is another fine mess you've gotten us into!" "Another fine mess I'VE gotten us into?" said Starbuck, almost in a squeak. "Me? What the Hades is that supposed to mean?" "Well, you do seem to have a knack for attracting trouble, Starbuck," said Apollo. "Of the female variety," added Boomer. "That isn't fair, fellas. I mean it just is not..." "I mean," said Apollo, "if it isn't Miri..." "No way. No way, it's not mine!" "Or Athena, it's Aurora, or Noday, or...' "Yeah, wasn't that a fun one," sighed Boomer. "Her brother..." "Hey, I paid for the damages," interjected Starbuck, a bit indignantly. "Not to mention, of course, the..." "And Zeibert's out of therapy now." "See, that's what I mean, Starbuck." "He'll walk again." "Starbuck!" "Of course, the turboflush..." "STAR-Buck!" arbuck into those very same depths, quite, quite stygian, which we mentioned earlier. "Ohhhhhh fraaaaaaaaaaaackkkk........." Oh, yeah. The lights had gone out, too. *************** Suddenly, a soft melodious sound seemed to come from nowhere. Either that or it came from the stygian depths. Entirely possible. Once in a dream... far beyond these castle walls... down by the bay where the moonlit water falls... I stood alone while the minstrel sang his song...So afraid I'd lost my soul... ************* At the Club House, Lucifer watched as the Butler Guy brought the drinks trolley back inside. Moved closer, and the Butler Guy turned to him. "Tell me," asked the IL Series Cylon, "what kind of benefits package do you get around here?" The Butler Guy held up a card, and Lucifer's oscillating optical sensors sped up. "You're kidding? Really?" Really! **************** Meanwhile, back aboard the Fleet, Apollo's children dded, and Starbuck burst out laughing in relief. "So either I'm not nuts - or we all are!" Boomer snorted. "Either way," he said, "this is another fine mess you've gotten us into!" "Another fine mess I'VE gotten us into?" said Starbuck, almost in a squeak. "Me? What the Hades is that supposed to mean?" "Well, you do seem to have a knack for attracting trouble, Starbuck," said Apollo. "Of the female variety," added Boomer. "That isn't fair, fellas. I mean it just is not..." "I mean," said Apollo, "if it isn't Miri..." "No way. No way, it's not mine!" "Or Athena, it's Aurora, or Noday, or...' "Yeah, wasn't that a fun one," sighed Boomer. "Her brother..." "Hey, I paid for the damages," interjected Starbuck, a bit indignantly. "Not to mention, of course, the..." "And Zeibert's out of therapy now." "See, that's what I mean, Starbuck." "He'll walk again." "Starbuck!" "Of course, the turboflush..." "STAR-Buck!" said Apollo. "Yes?" "The point we are trying to make is that whatever is going on, you are obviously the reason for it. These women went after you! They want something from you." "Yeah. My DNA." "What I don't get is why they didn't just ask him. I'm sure, Apollo, he'd have donated them some the good old fashioned way." "Well," said Starbuck, "in one day I've gone from Triad, to sacrificial victim of sanctimonious whatever, to sex object of the love-starved Gemonese babes of whatever." "Only you, Starbuck," muttered Boomer. "So, what do we do to rectify this situation, Bucko? "Me? Wht is it always..." "Hey, we've been through that already!" snapped Apollo, tired, cold, and running out of patience. If...no when they got out of this, Starbuck was going to fly soooooooo many extra patrols..... "Well," said Starbuck, "I don't really..." He stopped, as the door opened, ans a white-robbed figure stood in the entrance. Starbuck stared; it was the High Pby Vela were getting bored. All, of course, except for Igraine. She looked through the copy/fax machine/scanner/printer machine vortex, and saw Apollo plunging into the depths. "Stygian, aren't they?" she asked Athena. "What?" "The depths," replied the girl. "Stygian." "Yes, quite. I wonder where he is, and what's going to happen to him." "How in Hades can we possibly answer that?" asked Tigh. After they all glared at him for a full centon, he suddenly remembered a fire drill that was scheduled for the water recycling plant, and left. "Anyway, he deserves it!" continued Igraine, crossly. "Leaving mother with all of us, and no support. Not a cubit. HA! He never even wrote. I tell ya.... MEN!" "Athena," asked Adama, "What happened to Sheba?" He meanwhile prayed to all the Lords, that Igraine was not truly a product of his son's sexual meanderings. Luckily, the Commander was a multi-tasker. "Hades if I know." ****************said Apollo. "Yes?" "The point we are trying to make is that whatever is going on, you are obviously the reason for it. These women went after you! They want something from you." "Yeah. My DNA." "What I don't get is why they didn't just ask him. I'm sure, Apollo, he'd have donated them some the good old fashioned way." "Well," said Starbuck, "in one day I've gone from Triad, to sacrificial victim of sanctimonious whatever, to sex object of the love-starved Gemonese babes of whatever." "Only you, Starbuck," muttered Boomer. "So, what do we do to rectify this situation, Bucko? "Me? Wht is it always..." "Hey, we've been through that already!" snapped Apollo, tired, cold, and running out of patience. If...no when they got out of this, Starbuck was going to fly soooooooo many extra patrols..... "Well," said Starbuck, "I don't really..." He stopped, as the door opened, ans a white-robbed figure stood in the entrance. Starbuck stared; it was the High Priestess, looking disheveled, her robes askew. "Hey! What are you.." he began, when she stumbled into the room. The door slammed shut... Riiiii-iiiiip! "Oooooh! ======= Don't miss the next exciting episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Tune in again, when we'll hear Zeibert say, "Damn it! Where the Hades is my inhaler?" ======= And now, the next exciting, thrill packed episode. ======= "CUT! Okay people, we just got some pink pages!" "Man, I hate rewrites." "C'mon, Dirk. It's only a couple." "I know, Herb. It's just...Wooow! Hey, these are good." "This looks fun, Mr. Benedict!" "Sure does, Sadie." "Sally, Mr. Benedict." "Okay." "Ready, Dirk?" "Yeah, Rich. I got 'em." "Okay, people, are we ready?" "Yes sir, Mr. Director." "Great, Sarah." "Sally, sir." "Right. Okay, are we ready? And............action!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "It's her!" said Starbuck, after a few momentsriestess, looking disheveled, her robes askew. "Hey! What are you.." he began, when she stumbled into the room. The door slammed shut... Riiiii-iiiiip! "Oooooh! ======= Don't miss the next exciting episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Tune in again, when we'll hear Zeibert say, "Damn it! Where the Hades is my inhaler?" ======= And now, the next exciting, thrill packed episode. ======= "CUT! Okay people, we just got some pink pages!" "Man, I hate rewrites." "C'mon, Dirk. It's only a couple." "I know, Herb. It's just...Wooow! Hey, these are good." "This looks fun, Mr. Benedict!" "Sure does, Sadie." "Sally, Mr. Benedict." "Okay." "Ready, Dirk?" "Yeah, Rich. I got 'em." "Okay, people, are we ready?" "Yes sir, Mr. Director." "Great, Sarah." "Sally, sir." "Right. Okay, are we ready? And............action!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "It's her!" said Starbuck, after a few moments Apollo kept falling, the stifling heat and choking air growing ever more stifling (and choking) as he continued into those depths that were by the micron looking more and more stygian. He wondered if Starbuck was still falling. Was he still alive? WHERE were they headed? (As if he didn't know!!!) But, above all, he wondered, as he saw Starbuck sailing upwards and then past him... WHY do they always have to make the ground so hard? WHERE has Apollo landed? IS he hurt? WHERE is Starbuck? WHAT is Belloby's Mistress Plan? WHAT happened to all the Priestesses? WILL Lucifer find a new career as a barkeep? WHERE was Sheba scratching? WHEN (oh when??????) will we tie up all these bizzarely bizarre threads, and get to the conclusion of our story? :) :) :) For the answers to at least some of these gluteally abhorrent questions, be with us next time for the next predicate nominatively-packed episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear Igraine say,. "Who?" asked Boomer. "That High Priestess, the one who was going to skewer me. Hey!" "You okay?" asked Apollo, as the disheveled woman tried picking herself up from the deck. As she regained her feet, it was obvious that her flowing white dress was more dishevelled than she was. In fact, it wasn't even... "I'm...fine," gasped the woman, seemingly out of breath. "I just escaped." "Escaped?" asked the three Warriors, trying to think about something else. "Yes. Those so-called followers of mine, they put me in a room, and locked it. But I got out!" "How?" asked Boomer, squirming. "An ancient technique. Passed down the generations, gentlemen." "Well?" "Hairpins," said the High Priestess at last. She looked down, and gasped. Gathering her tattered robe about her, she turned several shades of red, then stopped, dropping the fabric. "Oh what the Hades!" She looked at Starbuck, and a look of utter despair came over her. "What's wrong?" Starbu. "Who?" asked Boomer. "That High Priestess, the one who was going to skewer me. Hey!" "You okay?" asked Apollo, as the disheveled woman tried picking herself up from the deck. As she regained her feet, it was obvious that her flowing white dress was more dishevelled than she was. In fact, it wasn't even... "I'm...fine," gasped the woman, seemingly out of breath. "I just escaped." "Escaped?" asked the three Warriors, trying to think about something else. "Yes. Those so-called followers of mine, they put me in a room, and locked it. But I got out!" "How?" asked Boomer, squirming. "An ancient technique. Passed down the generations, gentlemen." "Well?" "Hairpins," said the High Priestess at last. She looked down, and gasped. Gathering her tattered robe about her, she turned several shades of red, then stopped, dropping the fabric. "Oh what the Hades!" She looked at Starbuck, and a look of utter despair came over her. "What's wrong?" Starbu "I don't think I'll ever need those, Athena. I'm sure I'm going to take after Grandma." ======= The Electric Company Blows A Fuse will not be seen at this time, in order that we may present the following revolting program. The Starbuck Chronicles Part 61 ******************* Starbuck opened his eyes just in time to see Apollo dropping past him. What the frack had happened? One micron he was hurtling downwards into an infinite (and of course, stygian) blackness and the next the mysterious chute had suddenly been illuminated with that same eerie red glow to reveal a man. Starbuck had felt his descent slow significantly and suddenly had been filled with a micronite hope that he wasn't going to be crushed by the tremendous pressure of his downward momentum. (In other words, go splat. Okay?) He had actually seen the craggy terrain below and the writhing river that twisted and rent its way through the sere and barren landscape. The man had stood at the sck asked her, but she did not answer. She moved closer, and growled, her eyes aflame with...with... "SUNSTORM FORGIVE ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!" she howled, and dove for Starbuck. Outside, in a corridor used only by crew, Zeibert hobbled along, anxious not to be late for work. He stopped, sneezed, then fished in the pocket under his robe. "Damn it! Where the Hades is my inhaler?" "HELLLLLLLLLLLL_LLLLP!!!!" whimpered Starbuck. ======= Don't miss the next thrill packed episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Tune in again, when we'll hear Assault 9 say, "Aye, she's a cute one fer sure. Any o' that ambrosia from Proteus left, laddiebuck?" ======= And now for the next exciting, suspense-filled episode... "HELLLLP - OOMPH!" Starbuck threw up his hands as the momentum of the crazed High Priestess, dressed only in a flimsy, translucent gown, knocked him against the wall. He caught a glimpse for her eyes before she -- "CUT!" "What now? I though this scene was gock asked her, but she did not answer. She moved closer, and growled, her eyes aflame with...with... "SUNSTORM FORGIVE ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!" she howled, and dove for Starbuck. Outside, in a corridor used only by crew, Zeibert hobbled along, anxious not to be late for work. He stopped, sneezed, then fished in the pocket under his robe. "Damn it! Where the Hades is my inhaler?" "HELLLLLLLLLLLL_LLLLP!!!!" whimpered Starbuck. ======= Don't miss the next thrill packed episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Tune in again, when we'll hear Assault 9 say, "Aye, she's a cute one fer sure. Any o' that ambrosia from Proteus left, laddiebuck?" ======= And now for the next exciting, suspense-filled episode... "HELLLLP - OOMPH!" Starbuck threw up his hands as the momentum of the crazed High Priestess, dressed only in a flimsy, translucent gown, knocked him against the wall. He caught a glimpse for her eyes before she -- "CUT!" "What now? I though this scene was goide of the river beside a small boat. He had worn long white robes that had somehow reminded Starbuck of another man... He had been shuffling a deck of cards. The Lieutenant had paused in his thought of faint recognition as he fell ever closer to the river. The ferocious heat and foul stench that had emanated from the river had been overpowering. Tears had welled in his eyes and his throat had constricted, as the fear that he was simply going to drop into the... fiery... yes, fiery flow of contempt that thrashed and contorted its way through the depths of human misery and suffering, had overcome him. He briefly wondered if the lace over his was holding was fireproof. (Huh?) Sheer terror had forced a scream from his lips, but the river had swept it away as though feeding upon his emotions. The flames had suddenly licked higher, almost in delight, until he could feel them beneath his feet. "Oh, bloody 'ades 'ole... " a definite accent, again so familiar... yet somehow ing great --" "You would, Dirk." "Look, Richard, can I help it if the writers give me all of the action?" "Some is fine, but I thought this was supposed to be an equal opportunity show. You know, Starbuck gets a story, then Apollo, then Starbuck --" "Um, excuse me, Richard, you know Boomer could use a little of the action, too." "Oh, of course, Herb!" "Look, guys, it wouldn't have been logical for the women to pursue Starbuck all around the ship, and then have the High Priestess pounce on, say, Apollo --" "Oh, and why not?" "They were after me - I mean Starbuck, you know." "EXCUSE ME, GENTLEMEN." "Uh, right. Oh, hi, Mr. Larson!" "The point is mute. We just got word from the censors. We're WAY out of compliance with the 'family-hour' guidelines." "No, wait! That was the 1978 censors. They forgot the loophole, so call them back, Glenn!" "Dirk, you've lost me. The last I heard, we were supposed to stick with little kids and cuing great --" "You would, Dirk." "Look, Richard, can I help it if the writers give me all of the action?" "Some is fine, but I thought this was supposed to be an equal opportunity show. You know, Starbuck gets a story, then Apollo, then Starbuck --" "Um, excuse me, Richard, you know Boomer could use a little of the action, too." "Oh, of course, Herb!" "Look, guys, it wouldn't have been logical for the women to pursue Starbuck all around the ship, and then have the High Priestess pounce on, say, Apollo --" "Oh, and why not?" "They were after me - I mean Starbuck, you know." "EXCUSE ME, GENTLEMEN." "Uh, right. Oh, hi, Mr. Larson!" "The point is mute. We just got word from the censors. We're WAY out of compliance with the 'family-hour' guidelines." "No, wait! That was the 1978 censors. They forgot the loophole, so call them back, Glenn!" "Dirk, you've lost me. The last I heard, we were supposed to stick with little kids and cudifferent, had penetrated Starbuck's horror. And then, "Oops." Starbuck had closed his eyes as he waited for the intense flash of heat that would incinerate his body. He had hoped it would at least be quick as he waited... and waited... and waited... Uh... it seemed to be taking a long time. He opened his eyes, and blinked in surprise as Apollo dropped like a stone past him. * * * * * "Hah! Did you see Starbuck's face?" Belloby cackled uproariously as she gazed into her crystal ball, now surrounded by Divas-R-Us. "Serves him right for not kissing me properly down in Serenity," she told Sheba. "Well, if you hadn't had cheap Boray rotgut on your breath..." wheezed Baltar. "Hey! I'll have you know that all I had was water! Besides, everyone knows the lawman is supposed to smooch the damsel in distress," screeched Belloby, pounding on her seat. "It's in all the melodramas! Sheeesh! A little floverd lipstick..." "Do you expect a boy to do thte daggits, not a lecherous sex-starved High Priestess who wants to collect Starbuck's DNA the old-fashioned way." "It's a deal I worked out with the ABC producers so that they wouldn't cancel us at the end of just one season - you know, like they intended. "YOU got them to 'suddenly and mysteriously' change their minds and renew 'Battlestar" for another season?" "Yeah, Glenn. I showed them a glimpse of the future with a cool invention this friend of mine made. They saw that if they cancelled "Battlestar" after just one season, they'd be destined to be laughing stocks because the fans would complain - and then they'd air a totally stupid replacement show called 'Galactica 1980.'" "What was wrong with it?" "Well, Herb, they cut the special effect budget by two thirds, didn't bring any of us back - except Lorne - and had some brainiac kid named... I forget. But anyway, it was total disaster." "Great, Dirk, but what's this 'loophole' you mentioned?" Right, Richate daggits, not a lecherous sex-starved High Priestess who wants to collect Starbuck's DNA the old-fashioned way." "It's a deal I worked out with the ABC producers so that they wouldn't cancel us at the end of just one season - you know, like they intended. "YOU got them to 'suddenly and mysteriously' change their minds and renew 'Battlestar" for another season?" "Yeah, Glenn. I showed them a glimpse of the future with a cool invention this friend of mine made. They saw that if they cancelled "Battlestar" after just one season, they'd be destined to be laughing stocks because the fans would complain - and then they'd air a totally stupid replacement show called 'Galactica 1980.'" "What was wrong with it?" "Well, Herb, they cut the special effect budget by two thirds, didn't bring any of us back - except Lorne - and had some brainiac kid named... I forget. But anyway, it was total disaster." "Great, Dirk, but what's this 'loophole' you mentioned?" Right, Richae job of a man?" Baltar gasped from the floor on hands and knees from where he supported the woman's ample bottom upon his back. "Ottoman, shush!" Belloby cackled again. "I... am... NOT... an ottoman!" Baltar cried in objection. "Balls, you are such a turkey!" * * * * * "Starbuck..." Apollo gasped out in surprise, but his friend was gone as quickly as he had appeared. Only this time, he was headed upwards. Apollo again looked down to see the strange, crimson glow starting to illuminate the enigmatic chute. Something seemed to be approaching him at an increasing velocity. It appeared like a white blur as it drew closer and closer... It looked like... well, very much like... A man in a white flowing robe... riding a... pool cue. "IBLIS!" Apollo shouted out, as anger and a little fear filled his heart. Reflexively, he reached for he weapon, and cursed to find it gone. The man slowed his ascent and drew closer to the Captain.rd. My friend also set up a feed so that the show can bypass the 1978 censors by being broadcast in the future - in 2005. You won't BELIEVE what the censors will allow thirty years from now!" "Oh?" "Women wearing just their underwear in family-hour comercials, all sorts of language, and even full frontal male nudity on a controversial cop show in the 1990's --" "Whoa, no way!" "Yep." "Okaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay. So we'll go with the rewrite. Sarah --" "Sally, Mr. Director." "Right. Sally. We'll pick it up from when you make your wild, passionate dive for Starbuck." "Yes, sir!" "Okay! Places everyone aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand, ACTION!" ======= "Now, just a centon - oomph!" Starbuck held up both hands just as the High Priestess, her shroud ripped and trailing behind her, stumbled into him, knocking them both against the wall. She smelled of ambrosa and tainted smoke - not fumarello smoke. The combination made him gag as he pushed her back. The woma "Dibley's the name, magic's me game." The resemblance to Count Iblis was astounding. As Apollo gazed at him in wonder, he could detect the subtle differences. The slightly off accent. The more narrow face. The slightly darker hair. The deck of cards in one hand. Rover bouncing in the background. The beautiful woman with a champagne glass in one hand in the crook of his arm. The... pool cue. Apollo realized he was now hovering in place, suspended in mid-flight. "But who ARE you?" "Aven't you bin followin' the story line, mate? I'm Count Iblis' lesser known, incipient alchoholic and not-nearly as mean bruther, I am. Sorry, must fly. I've bin assigned t' the other chap, I 'av. Let's be off, me darlin'. We're needed," he said to the woman, and both climbed onto a winged steed. Then to Starbuck; "Cheerio." At that, Apollo once again dropped like a stone and plummeted towards the crimson, fiery, and stygian, depths of the unknown. * * * * * "He's goird. My friend also set up a feed so that the show can bypass the 1978 censors by being broadcast in the future - in 2005. You won't BELIEVE what the censors will allow thirty years from now!" "Oh?" "Women wearing just their underwear in family-hour comercials, all sorts of language, and even full frontal male nudity on a controversial cop show in the 1990's --" "Whoa, no way!" "Yep." "Okaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay. So we'll go with the rewrite. Sarah --" "Sally, Mr. Director." "Right. Sally. We'll pick it up from when you make your wild, passionate dive for Starbuck." "Yes, sir!" "Okay! Places everyone aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand, ACTION!" ======= "Now, just a centon - oomph!" Starbuck held up both hands just as the High Priestess, her shroud ripped and trailing behind her, stumbled into him, knocking them both against the wall. She smelled of ambrosa and tainted smoke - not fumarello smoke. The combination made him gag as he pushed her back. The woman staggered back a step. Her eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. Her lip curled in a crooked leer, and she ripped the shroud off the rest of the way, flinging it aside, as she stood a moment, breathing in gasps and staring at the lieutenant. Beneath the discarded shroud, she wore only a flimsy dress with... not much else on... which revealed WAY to much. Starbuck stared in horror and disbelief, then cast a quick glance at his equally stunned friends, who, so far, had remained immobile and totally useless. "Ahhhh!" Eyes blazing with a bestial ire, the woman flung herself at Starbuck. He sidestepped, but not quickly enough. She grabbed his arm and with an inhuman strength yanked him down. Beneath her. The warrior tried to roll free, tried to push her off, but long nails latched firmly and painfully into his arm and shoulder, and her weight - which was a bit more than her young, thin, much-more-attractive followers - had knocked the wind out of him. He gagged on the suffocating stench of smokeng to drop into the fiery river!" Igraine yelled from beside Athena, as she looked through the swirling vortex. "He's doomed! DOOMED I tell you!" "Well, you've sure changed your tune, Ingrate," Adama noted, wondering if the young girl had suddenly had a change of heart over her feelings for her... God forbid... father, now that his very life was at risk. "That's IGRAINE, fossil face." She returned disdainfully. "And I'm just realizing that yahrens of child support payments are about to go up in flames with his miserable hide." "Hades, kid, that's my brother you're talking about. Did your mother really raise you to be so heartless? Are you a few neurons short of a functioning brain or something? What you're really lacking is some manners and some intelligence," Athena replied heatedly, and wondering where Vela was right now. She asked Puppis where his mother was. "I don't know where she is," replied Puppis. "I don't think I'll ever need those, Athenan staggered back a step. Her eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. Her lip curled in a crooked leer, and she ripped the shroud off the rest of the way, flinging it aside, as she stood a moment, breathing in gasps and staring at the lieutenant. Beneath the discarded shroud, she wore only a flimsy dress with... not much else on... which revealed WAY to much. Starbuck stared in horror and disbelief, then cast a quick glance at his equally stunned friends, who, so far, had remained immobile and totally useless. "Ahhhh!" Eyes blazing with a bestial ire, the woman flung herself at Starbuck. He sidestepped, but not quickly enough. She grabbed his arm and with an inhuman strength yanked him down. Beneath her. The warrior tried to roll free, tried to push her off, but long nails latched firmly and painfully into his arm and shoulder, and her weight - which was a bit more than her young, thin, much-more-attractive followers - had knocked the wind out of him. He gagged on the suffocating stench of smoke and ambrosa, and for a brief instant, stared into her crazed eyes, mere centimetrons from his face. Then her eyes went wide and she sank her teeth into his neck - just as Apollo and Boomer grabbed a hold of her to pull her off. "ARRRGH!" With a pain-induced adrenaline surge, Starbuck yanked his arms free and slammed his fist into her head - just in time to break the hold her teeth had on his neck as his friends hauled the crazed woman back. They dumped her to the floor after realizing that she was now out cold. "Starbuck! Are you okay!" Boomer knelt down beside his buddy, who had rolled up into a ball on the floor, both hands pressed against his throat, groaning. "I hate to say it," said Apollo quickly, "But we have to get moving." He pointed to cell door, which had not actually latched shut but stood open, invitingly, a tiny crack. Boomer nodded, and the two pulled the lieutenant to his feet. He looked a sight, with blood streaming down his neck from several puncture wounds and. I'm sure I'm going to take after Grandma. Bad-mannered and half-witted." Igraine replied with a pointed look at Adama. Adama's head swung up sharply at the insult to his dearest Ila. He drew in a sharp breath through his teeth and stared at the juvenile delinquent who could very well... Oh, Lords, please let this be a dream... be his granddaughter. WHO is the mysterious Dibley? WHAT is he going to do with Starbuck? WHO does he work for? WHO is the apealing woman next to him? HOW will Apollo survive in the sulpherous, fiery, and stygian, depths? WILL he and Starbuck meet again? WILL Sheba have some lines next time? WHERE is Vela? WHY wasn't Boomer in this one? WILL Baltar's back ever recover? Dunno. BUT, for the answers to at least some of these teetotachiously exfuncticated interrogatives, tune in for our next rodomontadious episode. Be here, when we'll hear Dibley sing, I am 'Enery the Eighth I am, 'Enery the Eighth I am, I am... Or, if we're very lucky, Apollo say, "AAAA and ambrosa, and for a brief instant, stared into her crazed eyes, mere centimetrons from his face. Then her eyes went wide and she sank her teeth into his neck - just as Apollo and Boomer grabbed a hold of her to pull her off. "ARRRGH!" With a pain-induced adrenaline surge, Starbuck yanked his arms free and slammed his fist into her head - just in time to break the hold her teeth had on his neck as his friends hauled the crazed woman back. They dumped her to the floor after realizing that she was now out cold. "Starbuck! Are you okay!" Boomer knelt down beside his buddy, who had rolled up into a ball on the floor, both hands pressed against his throat, groaning. "I hate to say it," said Apollo quickly, "But we have to get moving." He pointed to cell door, which had not actually latched shut but stood open, invitingly, a tiny crack. Boomer nodded, and the two pulled the lieutenant to his feet. He looked a sight, with blood streaming down his neck from several puncture wounds and angry, oozing scratches on his arms and shoulders. "Now's our chance, buddy," Apollo said quietly. "Gotta go." Starbuck blinked to clear his head, then, with jaw firmly set, shook off the helping hands of his friends and marched out of the cell, flinging the door open with a loud *bang.* Apollo and Boomer followed close behind. Starbuck stalked down the dimly lit corridors. He'd had enough and was determined to get the frack out of there. He turned down endless passageways using instinct to find his way. He could hear Apollo and Boomer close behind occasionally snickering and making comments to one another. He became aware of an increasingly draughty sensation in his nether regions and began to realize what it was they found so amusing. In his struggle with the High Priestess, his briefs had snagged on something sharp and had become...briefer. "It's dark down here,"he heard Apollo mutter. "Yeah," replied Boomer, "even with that full moon lighting our way." Snicker. HHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!" ======= The Incredible Hulk Runs Out Of Deodorant will not be seen at this time. In it's place we present the following hastily made-up program. *********** The Starbuck Chronicles Part 62 Starbuck had to admit that floating gently upwards was preferable to dropping like a stone into the fiery pits of Hades Hole. At the same time, however, his concern for Apollo, who was still free-falling into the dark, damnable, demoniac, diabolical, dour (and stygian) depths, overcame his relief at his own temporary safety. He craned his neck to catch a glimpse of his friend, but only managed to put his body into a spin with his forward momentum. And throw his neck out. "Frack!" he cursed as he tried to slow the spin by waving his arms. It seemed to act like a wind flap as his spin slowed somewhat, but still left him levitating upside down. That was when he saw them. A woman in a tight, form-fitting leather body suit. And what a body! angry, oozing scratches on his arms and shoulders. "Now's our chance, buddy," Apollo said quietly. "Gotta go." Starbuck blinked to clear his head, then, with jaw firmly set, shook off the helping hands of his friends and marched out of the cell, flinging the door open with a loud *bang.* Apollo and Boomer followed close behind. Starbuck stalked down the dimly lit corridors. He'd had enough and was determined to get the frack out of there. He turned down endless passageways using instinct to find his way. He could hear Apollo and Boomer close behind occasionally snickering and making comments to one another. He became aware of an increasingly draughty sensation in his nether regions and began to realize what it was they found so amusing. In his struggle with the High Priestess, his briefs had snagged on something sharp and had become...briefer. "It's dark down here,"he heard Apollo mutter. "Yeah," replied Boomer, "even with that full moon lighting our way." Snicker. He ignored them, reasoning that was what his friends did when he acted that way. He hit a dead end and back tracked, turning down another corridor. So much for instinct. Where in Hade's Hole was the way out? "Why is he leading anyhow? You're the Captain," Boomer asked. "Thought I'd take a turn at 'rear' guard." "Very 'fanny'!" Starbuck again hit a dead end. "It's a frackin' maze down here!"he exclaimed in frustration. Boomer and Apollo joined him. Their friend was in a very big hurry to go nowhere. "So...where are you trying to head to?" Apollo asked in amusement standing with arms crossed. "Out of here!" Starbuck replied petulantly. "Don't you want to get to the 'bottom' of this?" Boomer asked chuckling. Starbuck stood considering his friends. "Cute. If you're finished with the wise 'cracks', this labyrinth has got me in a bit of a 'tail'spin. So, it would be nice if you two would get 'behind' me on this and help cover my ass because I'm Lords, the suit accented every perfect curve. Her kinky boots came up to cover her calves, the heels spiky. Her dark hair gently waved onto her shoulders and her eyes were like magnets, drawing his gaze to her. Oh, there was some guy in a dress and a flying steed too. But the woman... "Who are you?" Starbuck asked, his voice a mere whisper. "I'm Dibley. I've come... " Dibley started. "Not you, Granpa. Her." Starbuck clarified as his eyes assessed the woman frankly. He could feel his biopulse rhythm escalating. "Peel. Emma Peel." She told him in a clear, no- nonsense voice. "Under the circumstances, you may call me Mrs. Peel." "Mrs. Peel." Starbuck tried the strange name out. "Sweet lady, I'll call you whatever you like, as long as I can call you." "And you?" she asked, eyebrow cocked. "Lieutenant Starbuck. My friends just call me Starbuck," he replied pouring on the famous Buckers charm. "Hello. Lieutenant," she re He ignored them, reasoning that was what his friends did when he acted that way. He hit a dead end and back tracked, turning down another corridor. So much for instinct. Where in Hade's Hole was the way out? "Why is he leading anyhow? You're the Captain," Boomer asked. "Thought I'd take a turn at 'rear' guard." "Very 'fanny'!" Starbuck again hit a dead end. "It's a frackin' maze down here!"he exclaimed in frustration. Boomer and Apollo joined him. Their friend was in a very big hurry to go nowhere. "So...where are you trying to head to?" Apollo asked in amusement standing with arms crossed. "Out of here!" Starbuck replied petulantly. "Don't you want to get to the 'bottom' of this?" Boomer asked chuckling. Starbuck stood considering his friends. "Cute. If you're finished with the wise 'cracks', this labyrinth has got me in a bit of a 'tail'spin. So, it would be nice if you two would get 'behind' me on this and help cover my ass because I'm fracking lost!" "Well said, Starbutt...Okay, I'm done." Boomer grinned. Starbuck turned his gaze on Apollo. Apollo put up his hands in surrender. "I think you've pretty much covered it. Uh...maybe you could borrow one of those hairpins from the High Priestess." Starbuck smiled, "I'm certain it would take more than a hairpin..." Suddenly, they felt a chill in the air and the corridors reverberated with maniacal laughter... ======= And now... ======= "Oh frack, not again!" "Satrbuck?" asked Boomer, "The maniacal laughter. Every time things get really bad, there's maniacal laughter. I'm getting sick of it." "BWahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" "Yeah, it could get old really fast," said Apollo. "I have you now!" cackled the maniacal laughter voice. "You cannot escape this time, Lieutenant. You are in my clutches. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!" "I have a really bad feeling about this," said Apollo. "Oh," groaned Splied, and held up a small drinking glass to Dibley, who refilled it from a large bottle. "No, it's Star..." "Wait just a mo, mate... " The man in the dress sputtered. "Dibley, you know I can take care of myself." Mrs. Peel reassured him, pulling a old-fashioned pistol apparently made of solid auric from one of her kinky boots. "Might I remind ya, Mrs. Peel, we're 'ere on assignment." Dibley pointed out. "He seems harmless enough, Dibley. Especially hovering upside down," the beautiful woman replied. She reached out a hand and ran her fingertips through Starbuck's hair. "You do wear it long, don't you?" "Yeah, well, it looks better when I'm right side up." Starbuck assured her. "I'm sure." She responded politely to the warrior. "Shall we alight?" she asked Dibley. "Right." He agreed. "You have fumerellos?" Starbuck felt something hook the collar of his flight jacket and was suddenly being pulled along behinfracking lost!" "Well said, Starbutt...Okay, I'm done." Boomer grinned. Starbuck turned his gaze on Apollo. Apollo put up his hands in surrender. "I think you've pretty much covered it. Uh...maybe you could borrow one of those hairpins from the High Priestess." Starbuck smiled, "I'm certain it would take more than a hairpin..." Suddenly, they felt a chill in the air and the corridors reverberated with maniacal laughter... ======= And now... ======= "Oh frack, not again!" "Satrbuck?" asked Boomer, "The maniacal laughter. Every time things get really bad, there's maniacal laughter. I'm getting sick of it." "BWahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" "Yeah, it could get old really fast," said Apollo. "I have you now!" cackled the maniacal laughter voice. "You cannot escape this time, Lieutenant. You are in my clutches. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!" "I have a really bad feeling about this," said Apollo. "Oh," groaned Starbuck. "Brilliant." ======= Meanwhile~~~~ "Anybody seen Starbuck?" asked Zed, looking across the Triad court. ======= Now, to resume. When last we left our heroes---- ======= "You should know, Starbuck, that there is NO escape from us. Your doom is sealed." "Oh Lords, don't say that word." "Huh?" "That word. Sealed. Please don't say it." "Uh...why not?:" asked the maniacally laughing voice. "It's just, well, getting sealed. Fate worse than death and all." "Starbuck!" said Apollo. "What about us?" "Well, I'm not getting sealed to either of you." "No, you mushie! I mean death is a pretty lousy fate, even for us." "Yeah," said Boomer. "Really bad. In fact, I'm against it." "Silence! Minions!" boomed the ominous voice. "I shall deal with you inferiors later. But for now, Starbuck, your doom is sealed!" "Please, don't say that..." "SILENCE!!!!!" "Okay." "Starbuck, who is that voice?" askd the winged equine... and the very strange couple. Lords, she was a sight for sore and lonely eyes, he thought as he was pulled along towards a ridge. "Oh, I am 'Enery the Eighth I am, 'Enery the Eighth I am, I am..." sang Dibley, as they flew. The words only confirmed Starbuck's suspicions that this person was slightly off. After all, what was a "enery", and how did Dibley manage to acquire eight of them?" "Dibley? What's a 'enery', and how did you acquire eight of them?" "Wot? Ain't ya never read no 'istory, me bucko?" "Well...." The equine landed gracefully. Starbuck felt gravity suddenly affect his body and he dropped to the ground, rolling to his feet. He stood quickly to find himself standing before a man who looked vaguely familiar. The long white robes flowed to the ground, but Starbuck quickly noted they were a bit on the scruffy side. He was sure those were fumarello holes burnt into the sleeves, and some sort of flower below and ttarbuck. "Brilliant." ======= Meanwhile~~~~ "Anybody seen Starbuck?" asked Zed, looking across the Triad court. ======= Now, to resume. When last we left our heroes---- ======= "You should know, Starbuck, that there is NO escape from us. Your doom is sealed." "Oh Lords, don't say that word." "Huh?" "That word. Sealed. Please don't say it." "Uh...why not?:" asked the maniacally laughing voice. "It's just, well, getting sealed. Fate worse than death and all." "Starbuck!" said Apollo. "What about us?" "Well, I'm not getting sealed to either of you." "No, you mushie! I mean death is a pretty lousy fate, even for us." "Yeah," said Boomer. "Really bad. In fact, I'm against it." "Silence! Minions!" boomed the ominous voice. "I shall deal with you inferiors later. But for now, Starbuck, your doom is sealed!" "Please, don't say that..." "SILENCE!!!!!" "Okay." "Starbuck, who is that voice?" asked Boomer. ======= WHO is the mysterious voice? What does it truly want? Does Starbuck truly face a fate worse than seal...uh, death? Find out, in the next thrill-packed episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Be sure and tune in, when you'll hear Starbuck say, "They sure don't call 'em briefs for nothing." ======= The mysterious robed figure approached the scantily clad warriors. "It is I, Siress Belloby!" she said continuing to laugh maniacally despite several warnings. She removed her hood and continued to cackle lecherously in Starbuck's direction, "Hello, Boys!" Each warrior felt an involuntary shiver run down his spine.continuing part way down his sciatic nerve and lodging firmly in his left buttock...except Apollo. Being left handed, it lodged in his right buttock. "Sagan," exclaimed Starbuck, "it is a fate worse than death.or sealing". He slipped behind Apollo and Boomer only to find himself backed up against several other robed figures standing qued Boomer. ======= WHO is the mysterious voice? What does it truly want? Does Starbuck truly face a fate worse than seal...uh, death? Find out, in the next thrill-packed episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Be sure and tune in, when you'll hear Starbuck say, "They sure don't call 'em briefs for nothing." ======= The mysterious robed figure approached the scantily clad warriors. "It is I, Siress Belloby!" she said continuing to laugh maniacally despite several warnings. She removed her hood and continued to cackle lecherously in Starbuck's direction, "Hello, Boys!" Each warrior felt an involuntary shiver run down his spine.continuing part way down his sciatic nerve and lodging firmly in his left buttock...except Apollo. Being left handed, it lodged in his right buttock. "Sagan," exclaimed Starbuck, "it is a fate worse than death.or sealing". He slipped behind Apollo and Boomer only to find himself backed up against several other robed figures standing quo the left of the collar. He held a strange stick that had a fabric-like canopy on some kind of frame supported by a central rod. The hook-like handle at the bottom, Starbuck was certain, was what had pulled him along by the collar on their flight to the ridge. At first Starbuck had thought it was a historic-styled pool cue... but now, he wasn't sure. "Dibley? What is that?" he pointed to the unusual stick. "That's me bumbershoot." Dibley explained. "And that's me trusty steed, Bentley." He indicated the equine. "And you are?" Starbuck asked. He looked like a younger, but stupider Count... "Iblis' bruvver." "His what?" Starbuck asked, looking closely at the man's mouth, but trying to avoid the spittle flying in his immediate direction. "Wot, bruvver. Me muvver's uvver son." "Iblis has a family?" Starbuck asked, astounded at the unlikely thought... if he understood correctly. "Of course, 'e 'as a family. Where d'ya think 'e cameietly at guard and fanning out around the warriors. "Siress Belloby, just what is this all about?" Apollo demanded. "DNA, Captain," chortled Belloby, "Starbuck's DNA to be precise." "Why in Hades would you want Starbuck's DNA?" Boomer asked. "You don't have to sound so astounded, Buddy," Starbuck protested. Belloby chortled again, "As you said yourself, Captain, he's the best warrior in the fleet," she leered at Starbuck, "and quite a dish in those attractively altered briefs!" She batted her impressive eyelashes at the Lieutenant. "They sure don't call `em briefs for nothing." Starbuck added weakly. "Wait a centon, the High Priestess already took my DNA.twice." He rubbed his bruised and bloody throat. "Ah, the `former' High Priestess," she cackled lasciviously, as only Belloby could. "You see the sisters here have grown weary of being sanctimonious. We've formed a new and improved sect. Gentlemen, I'd like to properly introduce `the League of Luscious Lecherietly at guard and fanning out around the warriors. "Siress Belloby, just what is this all about?" Apollo demanded. "DNA, Captain," chortled Belloby, "Starbuck's DNA to be precise." "Why in Hades would you want Starbuck's DNA?" Boomer asked. "You don't have to sound so astounded, Buddy," Starbuck protested. Belloby chortled again, "As you said yourself, Captain, he's the best warrior in the fleet," she leered at Starbuck, "and quite a dish in those attractively altered briefs!" She batted her impressive eyelashes at the Lieutenant. "They sure don't call `em briefs for nothing." Starbuck added weakly. "Wait a centon, the High Priestess already took my DNA.twice." He rubbed his bruised and bloody throat. "Ah, the `former' High Priestess," she cackled lasciviously, as only Belloby could. "You see the sisters here have grown weary of being sanctimonious. We've formed a new and improved sect. Gentlemen, I'd like to properly introduce `the League of Luscious Lecher from?" Dibley asked, shaking his head. "Crawled out of some dark hole somewhere... " Starbuck suggested. "Well, some parts of London really..." Emma Peel began... "Shh! Don't tell 'im nothing, Mrs. Peel." "Does that mean Iblis is here?" Starbuck demanded as he stepped closer to the man, eyes blazing in fury. He didn't know what London was, but it didn't sound very good. Dark, dingy ...inclement. Kind of like the west coast of North Zamerica where he had done some survival training on Virgon. His bones ached at the very memory of it. Thank the Lords for their ale. Not that peely wally stuff from the south. Who in Hades ever thought of Light Ale anyhow? You ever drink light ale? It was diabolical. Still, their heavier stuff was pretty good... Zoors. Flamier. Olympus. Ah yes. Famous labels... Like heavenly angels peeing on your tongue... Lords, why ever did I say that??????? "Keep yer shirt on, lad. Yeah, Iblis' 'ere." Dibley toous Lascivious Ladies' with myself nominated as Lead Lady of the LLLLL.or as I prefer to call it.'L to the Fifth'. Unfortunately, the DNA sample was lost in a routine democratic debate." She chortled and cackled. "What's with all the chortling and cackling?" asked Starbuck. "Well, you're the one who said he was tired of maniacal laughter," Boomer mentioned. "Point," agreed Starbuck. He noticed the robed figures tightening their circle. "Now without any further ado, the doctor is waiting." Once again Starbuck felt something sprayed into his face. He clutched at his burning eyes as his lungs spasmed at the chemical invasion. He heard Boomer sputter, "Twice in one day, it just isn't fair." He barely had time to insist, "That's my line!" before he again lost consciousness. Part 27.5 Apollo opened his eyes. There was a faint stench of fumarello smoke in the air. He could hear music and laughter but it wasn't maniacal. He was lying on the deck in the same corridor in whld the advancing Warrior, holding his bumbershoot in front of him. "What about it?" Starbuck asked quizzically. "What?" Dibley asked. "Iblis' ear." Starbuck replied. "No," Dibley interrupted, "Iblis' 'ere." "Right, what about it?" Starbuck asked again. "No, not 'ear'... 'ere'." Dibley responded in frustration. "Huh?" Starbuck asked. "Both ears?" "NO! No wonder Iblis assigned me to you. Yer a pain in the arse, you are, an' no mistake" Dibley told him. He looked at the woman next to him, shaking his head. "Muvver said there'd be days like this." "Just what is your assignment?" Starbuck asked, losing patience with the man. But the woman, Lords... * * * * * "AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!" screamed Apollo as he looked down to see the fiery, writhing, undulating, stygian river below him. His body came to a sudden stop, possibly due to the giant white balloon he'd landed on. He tried to push himself awayous Lascivious Ladies' with myself nominated as Lead Lady of the LLLLL.or as I prefer to call it.'L to the Fifth'. Unfortunately, the DNA sample was lost in a routine democratic debate." She chortled and cackled. "What's with all the chortling and cackling?" asked Starbuck. "Well, you're the one who said he was tired of maniacal laughter," Boomer mentioned. "Point," agreed Starbuck. He noticed the robed figures tightening their circle. "Now without any further ado, the doctor is waiting." Once again Starbuck felt something sprayed into his face. He clutched at his burning eyes as his lungs spasmed at the chemical invasion. He heard Boomer sputter, "Twice in one day, it just isn't fair." He barely had time to insist, "That's my line!" before he again lost consciousness. Part 27.5 Apollo opened his eyes. There was a faint stench of fumarello smoke in the air. He could hear music and laughter but it wasn't maniacal. He was lying on the deck in the same corridor in wh, and the horrid object rolled to one side, and he hung in mid-air, feeling the intense heat and smelling the sulphur. The sweat poured off of him and he wondered just how in Hades Starbuck had managed to rebound back up and away from the cesspool... uh, river, below him. Some guys have all the luck... "Ah, Captain, so pleasant of you to have dropped in." Count Iblis told him from the far side of the river. "Iblis, I knew you had something to do with this!" Apollo spat at him. "Now, now, Apollo, why so bitter? After all, those silly old sods from the Ship Of Lights brought you back to life. Do you actually harbour ill feelings towards me? How... petty." "You won't win this time either, Iblis. Even here. Even in Hades Hole. Every test, every trial, every tribulation you send our way only makes us stronger!" "Is that so?" Iblis chuckled mirthlessly. "Then join me Apollo. If you dare." He snapped his fingers, and with a dull roar, Rover rolled awaich Belloby had finally unveiled. Starbuck, Boomer and `L to the Fifth' were all gone. His head was pounding. He slowly got up and steadied himself. He was moving woodenly, as if in a dream. He headed towards the growing din. It seemed to be coming from the wall. Suddenly, he noticed a red button that said, "Press here for admittance". Odd, they hadn't noticed it before. He pressed the button and a hidden panel slid open. Smoke wafted out into the corridor. The room inside was thick with it. Lights were flashing and people were milling about. It looked and sounded like a.chancery. There was something seriously wrong with the scene. For every woman present, there were two men beside her.two men who looked identical to Starbuck! Starbuck, every one of him, was still only clad in slightly less tattered briefs. Apollo wandered around stupefied. He found himself at the seven-eleven table being tapped on the shoulder. He turned to gaze into the familiar blue eyes of his friend. "Spot me a fich Belloby had finally unveiled. Starbuck, Boomer and `L to the Fifth' were all gone. His head was pounding. He slowly got up and steadied himself. He was moving woodenly, as if in a dream. He headed towards the growing din. It seemed to be coming from the wall. Suddenly, he noticed a red button that said, "Press here for admittance". Odd, they hadn't noticed it before. He pressed the button and a hidden panel slid open. Smoke wafted out into the corridor. The room inside was thick with it. Lights were flashing and people were milling about. It looked and sounded like a.chancery. There was something seriously wrong with the scene. For every woman present, there were two men beside her.two men who looked identical to Starbuck! Starbuck, every one of him, was still only clad in slightly less tattered briefs. Apollo wandered around stupefied. He found himself at the seven-eleven table being tapped on the shoulder. He turned to gaze into the familiar blue eyes of his friend. "Spot me a fy into the gloom. The Count then pointed to the Captain who, following the path of Iblis' finger, was gently set down upon the ground... but on the wrong side of the river. "Why would I do that?" Apollo asked viciously. "Why should I play your game?" "Because, not only do I have your friend, Lieutenant Starbuck, but I also have your son, Boxey." "That's utter felgercarb, Iblis. Boxey is safely with Boomer in Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel and Fooling Around Paraphernalia Emporium." Apollo refuted his statement vehemently. Starbuck... well, Apollo knew that he could take care of himself... maybe. Iblis laughed demonically, he had a flare for it after all. His eyes shone red, as that was all the currency they had left for the special effects after setting up the stygian river on the set, levitating the warriors over it and attaching wings to a horse with digital enhancement, not to mention all the effects they did for Virtual Season 2. Those dinosaurs...gads! Anew cubits, ole buddy?" he grinned at Apollo. Mouth agape, the Captain backed away. He retreated from the noise and found himself in a quiet corridor. He leaned against the wall until the furious pounding of his heart slowed. Sagan, please, let this be a dream. He heard an odd humming sound coming from the end of the corridor. With a growing feeling of dread he continued on his path. He gaped in horror at the sight that awaited him. His stomach lurched as his memory took him back to Carillon and the caverns of the Ovions. There before him lay rows of pods, so much like he remembered, but with one distinct difference. In front of the pods was a large bed, which was occupied by a distracted Lieutenant Starbuck. Starbuck lay propped up on overstuffed pillows with his right arm around a shapely blonde and his left around a voluptuous redhead. The blonde was raising a goblet to his lips while the redhead was massaging a healing salve into his bruised and aching muscles. Off to the side, a brew cubits, ole buddy?" he grinned at Apollo. Mouth agape, the Captain backed away. He retreated from the noise and found himself in a quiet corridor. He leaned against the wall until the furious pounding of his heart slowed. Sagan, please, let this be a dream. He heard an odd humming sound coming from the end of the corridor. With a growing feeling of dread he continued on his path. He gaped in horror at the sight that awaited him. His stomach lurched as his memory took him back to Carillon and the caverns of the Ovions. There before him lay rows of pods, so much like he remembered, but with one distinct difference. In front of the pods was a large bed, which was occupied by a distracted Lieutenant Starbuck. Starbuck lay propped up on overstuffed pillows with his right arm around a shapely blonde and his left around a voluptuous redhead. The blonde was raising a goblet to his lips while the redhead was massaging a healing salve into his bruised and aching muscles. Off to the side, a bryway... "Apollo, my dear boy, you are so far behind you probably think that Sheba, Vela and Siress Belloby are all on your side." He lifted back his head and chortled maniacally. "They are my minions now. Mine! That wasn't even Lieutenant Boomer with you. It was Over-Lieutenant Korax's lesser known shape-shifting brother, Borax. It was so easy to soft-soap him. For the donation of a few slaves and a promise of glory in his present life, he quite eagerly was willing to bring your son to me." "... but... where's Boomer?" Apollo asked hesitantly, as he thought back on Boomer's strange behavior since they had been on the baseship. Almost as if he had some kind of a grudge against Starbuck. If, indeed, Borax was Korax's brother, that would make sense. Iblis smiled slowly and deliberately, his red eyes strobing. "Like a good friend once before him, he stayed on the Galactica to seduce your sister, Athena. You have been betrayed!" "Boomer and Athena?" Apollo mused. "unette, with her back to Apollo, seemed to be preparing a fumarello. If it weren't for the line attached to the man's neck, which appeared to be draining blood, Apollo would think that his friend had found Paradise. "Welcome, Captain. I trust you see that we're taking good care of our prototype." A man limped out of the shadows with cane in hand. His grey hair and beard disturbingly familiar. "Dr. Ravashol!" Apollo exclaimed in disbelief. "How.?" "Now, Captain. The weather on Arcta was so tiresome. Besides Siress Belloby made me a better offer. While you were all prancing and preening in Serenity, I was beginning to prepare for my new creation." "What the frack are you doing?" Apollo furiously demanded. "Hey, hey, hey.keep it down over there," slurred Starbuck. "Apollo!" His eyes opened wide in surprise at the sudden appearance of his friend. "You're not here looking for your uniform are you?" "Looking for my what? Starbuck, don't you realize what they're sucking unette, with her back to Apollo, seemed to be preparing a fumarello. If it weren't for the line attached to the man's neck, which appeared to be draining blood, Apollo would think that his friend had found Paradise. "Welcome, Captain. I trust you see that we're taking good care of our prototype." A man limped out of the shadows with cane in hand. His grey hair and beard disturbingly familiar. "Dr. Ravashol!" Apollo exclaimed in disbelief. "How.?" "Now, Captain. The weather on Arcta was so tiresome. Besides Siress Belloby made me a better offer. While you were all prancing and preening in Serenity, I was beginning to prepare for my new creation." "What the frack are you doing?" Apollo furiously demanded. "Hey, hey, hey.keep it down over there," slurred Starbuck. "Apollo!" His eyes opened wide in surprise at the sudden appearance of his friend. "You're not here looking for your uniform are you?" "Looking for my what? Starbuck, don't you realize what they're sucking Holy frack. I thought that was only in Senmut's VS2 stuff!" "Come now, Apollo. You never heard of crossovers?" Never mind that now! You can't believe what he tells you. "Where is my son?" "Bwahahahahaha! You'll have to find a way across the river to find out." Iblis replied, blinking his eyes repeatedly. The strobe light effect was beginning to give him a headache. * * * * * Meanwhile, back on the Galactica: "Lords, I have to get to them and help!" Boomer cried as he watched the events unfold in the vortex from just over Athena's shoulder--her creamy white, soft, seductive right shoulder, with no tan line at all, that had an equally enticing match just across the top of her head. He leaned down and kissed the engaging piece of flesh and soon found a path that led up to her neck... "Uh... Lieutenant... " Adama cleared his throat. Boomer's head snapped back up and he stood at attention. "Yes, sir." "You were going to go hel out of you?" "More importantly, Buddy, look at what they're pouring in," he smugly replied, motioning towards the bottle of Proteus Ambrosa. "Calm yourself, Captain. I only take what is necessary for my creation. No permanent damage will be done.not that you'd notice with Starbuck anyway." "You're cloning him!" Apollo sputtered. "Don't think as it as merely cloning. I can rebuild him. I have the technology. I have the capability to make the fleet's first.genetically improved warrior. Starbuck will be that warrior. Better than he was before. Better.stronger.faster.Owww!" Suddenly, Belloby appeared out of nowhere, whacking Ravashol across the head and whispering furiously in his ear, finally screaming, "You lugubrious Bork!" "Now, now, Belloby, my dear. I didn't mean `fast' in quite that way." Ravashol consoled her. Starbuck's murmur suddenly interrupted the Captain's train of thought. "Thanks, Love," The brunette had expertly lighted the fumarello and now Ap out of you?" "More importantly, Buddy, look at what they're pouring in," he smugly replied, motioning towards the bottle of Proteus Ambrosa. "Calm yourself, Captain. I only take what is necessary for my creation. No permanent damage will be done.not that you'd notice with Starbuck anyway." "You're cloning him!" Apollo sputtered. "Don't think as it as merely cloning. I can rebuild him. I have the technology. I have the capability to make the fleet's first.genetically improved warrior. Starbuck will be that warrior. Better than he was before. Better.stronger.faster.Owww!" Suddenly, Belloby appeared out of nowhere, whacking Ravashol across the head and whispering furiously in his ear, finally screaming, "You lugubrious Bork!" "Now, now, Belloby, my dear. I didn't mean `fast' in quite that way." Ravashol consoled her. Starbuck's murmur suddenly interrupted the Captain's train of thought. "Thanks, Love," The brunette had expertly lighted the fumarello and now App?" Adama reminded him, a highly polished shotgun on the desk before him "Uh... yes, sir. Sorry, sir. I went through a lot of episodes without a romantic interest, if you remember." He took a deep breath. "I need to find a way to ride through the vortex safely. Did anyone see how Sheba did it?" Boomer asked. "No... one micron she was here cursing Apollo, and the next she was gone." Adama stated. "However, now that we know Iblis is involved, I'm sure he was a part of ensuring her safe passage." "Sir, I'm going to go speak to Hummer. He was telling me about a board that his people used to use to ride tumultuous water formations. Perhaps he can adapt his ideas to the vortex." "Good idea, Lieutenant Boomer. Go. And may the Lords of Kobol guide you on your journey." Adama nodded solemnly. "Sir, I'm just going to the electronics department." Boomer reminded him. "Oh? All right then, but hurry." * * * * * "Bells, Vela, did you heaollo had a perfect view of.HIS SISTER!!!" "Athena!" he screamed in horror. "Apollo, father always encouraged us to join clubs. `L to the Fifth' is my kind of club," she winked at her brother, "if you know what I mean." For the first time in yahrens, Apollo got down upon his knees and prayed, "Dear God, I beg of you, please let this be a dream!" The captain squeezed his eyes shut, willing the scene, the images, the madness to vanish. His head spun. He could feel his sanity slipping away. So this is what it feels like to go crazy... his brain felt like it would explode as it tried to process the impossible. "Apollo, can you hear me? Apollo!" The words slowly penetrated. "Apollo, wake up!" "YES!!" Apollo popped his eyes open. Starbuck's face swam into focus above him. "It was a dream, right?" he whispered intensely. "A dream - tell me it was a dream!" "Whoa, hold on there!" Boomer voice sounded from behind him as Apollo felt someone lift him to a sitollo had a perfect view of.HIS SISTER!!!" "Athena!" he screamed in horror. "Apollo, father always encouraged us to join clubs. `L to the Fifth' is my kind of club," she winked at her brother, "if you know what I mean." For the first time in yahrens, Apollo got down upon his knees and prayed, "Dear God, I beg of you, please let this be a dream!" The captain squeezed his eyes shut, willing the scene, the images, the madness to vanish. His head spun. He could feel his sanity slipping away. So this is what it feels like to go crazy... his brain felt like it would explode as it tried to process the impossible. "Apollo, can you hear me? Apollo!" The words slowly penetrated. "Apollo, wake up!" "YES!!" Apollo popped his eyes open. Starbuck's face swam into focus above him. "It was a dream, right?" he whispered intensely. "A dream - tell me it was a dream!" "Whoa, hold on there!" Boomer voice sounded from behind him as Apollo felt someone lift him to a sitting position and help steady him. "Take it easy. Nice slow breathes... nice and easy..." "Oh, frak," Apollo muttered as he took a long, deep breath and forced himself to calm down. He focused on his buddy. Starbuck, in full uniform - praise the Lords of Kobol! -- knelt in front of him, looking concerned. "It was all a dream... right?" he said a last, quietly, daring to hope... "Well, you were definitely dreaming," Starbuck answered. "But as for being 'just a dream,' that depends. The lieutenant let out a slow breath and stood. "I wouldn't mind waking up just about now to find out this was all because of an ambrosa-induced hangover..." The surroundings finally penetrated Apollo's dream-induced fog. He scrambled to his feet, staring wildly around. "Frak!" And suddenly he remembered. They'd been flying a three-man, long-range recon, taking readings on a planet that - according to the Galactica's sensors -- seemed to promise a wealth of tylium. He'd been making a low-level passr that?" Sheba asked. "Iblis said we're his minions. Is that true?" "Well, I feel kind of diminutive all of a sudden, but I don't know that they're related." Belloby told her. Vela simply stood by shaking her head in bewilderment. A hush came over the small gathering of women who stared into the Siress' crystal ball. "I can't believe that I was suckered by that... Diablo again!" Sheba raved as she thought back to her insanely jealous behavior. "Girls, we have to do something to help Apollo." "But he is kinda cute," said one of the lustful priestesses from an earlier chapter, there suddenly for dramatic effect. "Bad dancing aside." "Quiet, Libidia!" boomed Belloby. "'k. Geeze..." "Yes, you're right, Sheba. But what?" Vela agreed, guilt suddenly filling her about her accusation of Apollo's paternity regarding her array of children. If he wasn't their father, then who? She remembered him, so clearly, as he'd made wild, passionate lting position and help steady him. "Take it easy. Nice slow breathes... nice and easy..." "Oh, frak," Apollo muttered as he took a long, deep breath and forced himself to calm down. He focused on his buddy. Starbuck, in full uniform - praise the Lords of Kobol! -- knelt in front of him, looking concerned. "It was all a dream... right?" he said a last, quietly, daring to hope... "Well, you were definitely dreaming," Starbuck answered. "But as for being 'just a dream,' that depends. The lieutenant let out a slow breath and stood. "I wouldn't mind waking up just about now to find out this was all because of an ambrosa-induced hangover..." The surroundings finally penetrated Apollo's dream-induced fog. He scrambled to his feet, staring wildly around. "Frak!" And suddenly he remembered. They'd been flying a three-man, long-range recon, taking readings on a planet that - according to the Galactica's sensors -- seemed to promise a wealth of tylium. He'd been making a low-level pass over a barren plain, concentrating on the fluctuating readings on his scanner, when all of his instruments suddenly and mysteriously went bizerk (for the life of me, I cannot figure out the true spelling of this word!!!) . He'd had to ditch - none too gently - in the inhospitable wasteland - which, for some unknown reason, still had a breathable atmosphere and nearly identical gravity to Caprica. Not to mention a fairly comfortable temperature, not too hot, not too cold. But, dang! Was it windy and barren and dry and inhospitable! Not a living thing to be found. His Viper had been a total loss, but he had suffered only some bumps and bruises. Starbuck and Boomer had landed safely and pulled him from the crumpled ship just microns before it exploded into a brilliantly blazing ball of... scrap metal. They'd been about to notify the Galactica of their predicament - sorry, there was no way in Hades that two people could fit into a Viper (unless it were a naughty 7-yahren-old son of thove to her, after blasting Red-Eye. How... "Well, you could fight evil with evil. But you would have to get off my back first." Baltar suggested from where he was positioned on the floor on all fours being used as an ottoman. "I would gladly help you ladies." "To what end, Baltar?" Sheba demanded with distaste. She had never bought the story of his mental breakdown and his subsequent decision to return to the fleet and take his chances in tribunal as they assessed his mental stability. She hadn't heard a single "Who are you? Who-oo-who-oo", since she had landed on Cordugo Pit. Then there was the fact that the baseship that he had been on, was in imminent danger of exploding when he had had his mental breakdown. A little too coincidental for the daughter of Cain. "Simply so that I could get up and stretch my back." Baltar groused. "What do you think, Sheba?" Belloby asked, leaning back. "I don't trust him anymore than I do Iblis. No, we have to do over a barren plain, concentrating on the fluctuating readings on his scanner, when all of his instruments suddenly and mysteriously went bizerk (for the life of me, I cannot figure out the true spelling of this word!!!) . He'd had to ditch - none too gently - in the inhospitable wasteland - which, for some unknown reason, still had a breathable atmosphere and nearly identical gravity to Caprica. Not to mention a fairly comfortable temperature, not too hot, not too cold. But, dang! Was it windy and barren and dry and inhospitable! Not a living thing to be found. His Viper had been a total loss, but he had suffered only some bumps and bruises. Starbuck and Boomer had landed safely and pulled him from the crumpled ship just microns before it exploded into a brilliantly blazing ball of... scrap metal. They'd been about to notify the Galactica of their predicament - sorry, there was no way in Hades that two people could fit into a Viper (unless it were a naughty 7-yahren-old son of the captain and his daggit, in which case they could stow away wherever they wished!). Thus, they would be needing a shuttle to get Apollo back home. At any rate, Starbuck had just climbed up onto his Viper to make the call, when he happened to gaze out across the inhospitable, barren, God-forsaken wasteland to see... A massive dark, occlusive, cloud-like formation was heading straight for them. Starbuck suddenly noticed the slight shaking of the ground. What the frack? He then remembered Boomer mentioning the volcanic activity as he scanned the surface. Across that barren plain, but perhaps not far enough, a volcano had erupted. He recalled seeing the massive crater as they followed the Captain's ship down. They were betting on the fact that they were far enough away to be unaffected. This wasn't just a routine eruption however, this was a pyroclastic flow; a high density mixture of fragments and gases that move at high speeds. Starbuck wagered that at the distance they were away from this on our own. There's only one way to beat evil." Sheba told them over a loud crunching sound, and watched as they all gathered round to listen. "Now, here's what we're going to do..." ***** "Hummer, hey!" said Boomer, rushing into Wilker's lab. As expected, he found the lab tech present. As UNexpected, Hummer was reclining in a beach chair, stripped to his shorts, under a sunlamp, with a drink in one hand, watching a video monitor, phones in his ears. Boomer had to repeat himself. At last, he grabbed the drink from his hand, and pulled the phones from the kid's ears. "Hey!" cried Hummer, yanking the phone back. "Gimme my maitai back!" "Your tie? You aren't wearing a tie, Hummer." "No. maitai, you...never mind." He looked at the screen, where an image of a tall man with dark hair, in a strange blue suit, was displayed. "Yeah! Book 'em Dano!" He got up, and threw on a robe. "Whatcha need, Boom-Boom?" Boomer explained, and Hummer nodded. "Hey. like no e captain and his daggit, in which case they could stow away wherever they wished!). Thus, they would be needing a shuttle to get Apollo back home. At any rate, Starbuck had just climbed up onto his Viper to make the call, when he happened to gaze out across the inhospitable, barren, God-forsaken wasteland to see... A massive dark, occlusive, cloud-like formation was heading straight for them. Starbuck suddenly noticed the slight shaking of the ground. What the frack? He then remembered Boomer mentioning the volcanic activity as he scanned the surface. Across that barren plain, but perhaps not far enough, a volcano had erupted. He recalled seeing the massive crater as they followed the Captain's ship down. They were betting on the fact that they were far enough away to be unaffected. This wasn't just a routine eruption however, this was a pyroclastic flow; a high density mixture of fragments and gases that move at high speeds. Starbuck wagered that at the distance they were away from the actual volcano, it would only be a turbulent cloud of gases and ash that enveloped them. However, unless they could take shelter it would still be deadly. "Get inside the vipers!" he yelled, jumping off his ship to help Boomer propel Apollo towards safety. "Pyroclastic flow!" he shouted in explanation. Apollo may have only had bumps and bruises, but he was still in a state of shock. His body responded woodenly as he tried to get up. He knew from Starbuck's tone that they were in danger. Wait a centon. How did Starbuck expect they were going to cram two Colonial Warriors into a small fighter? Boomer had his arms under Apollo's, lifting him quickly to his feet. He could feel the tremors beneath them. "How in Hade's are two of us going to fit in a fighter?" he yelled at Starbuck who had grabbed Apollo's arm and was helping direct him towards the nearest ship. "Tightly," he responded. The three men raced towards the nearest viper and Starbuck launched himself problemo, Dude!" He crossed the lab, and slapped one of the captured Cylons on the shoulder. "Great job, Quipolit. Looks fab. Now, go get the wax off your fingers before the prop department gets all over me. 'k?" "By your command, dude!" drawled the Cylon, and headed for the degreaser. "Waaaahhhh!!!!!!' Thud. Crash. "And don't spill any wax next time," said Hummer. "Doctor Wilker docks me every time that happens. Hummer picked up the strange board the Cylon had been polishing. "By your co...' Thud. "By your co..." Thud "By your co..." Thud. "Hey, let's go, Booms," said Hummer. "Time to rescue folks!" "You're coming with me?" asked Boomer, surprised. "Sure am. C'mon, Dan...Boomer. Let's roll!" "I wonder if I'll ever get rescued?" asked Boxey. "I'm almost out of tokens, Blip." "Don't athk me," said Blip, popping a cold one, and handing Boxey another soda. "I never get to thee the thcrpt rewriteth until the latht moment, kid."the actual volcano, it would only be a turbulent cloud of gases and ash that enveloped them. However, unless they could take shelter it would still be deadly. "Get inside the vipers!" he yelled, jumping off his ship to help Boomer propel Apollo towards safety. "Pyroclastic flow!" he shouted in explanation. Apollo may have only had bumps and bruises, but he was still in a state of shock. His body responded woodenly as he tried to get up. He knew from Starbuck's tone that they were in danger. Wait a centon. How did Starbuck expect they were going to cram two Colonial Warriors into a small fighter? Boomer had his arms under Apollo's, lifting him quickly to his feet. He could feel the tremors beneath them. "How in Hade's are two of us going to fit in a fighter?" he yelled at Starbuck who had grabbed Apollo's arm and was helping direct him towards the nearest ship. "Tightly," he responded. The three men raced towards the nearest viper and Starbuck launched himself up onto it. He reached down to help the Captain. Apollo's head was spinning. His limbs seemed slow to respond to his brain's signals. "C'mon, Apollo!" Starbuck grabbed his flight jacket with both hands and pulled at the same time as Boomer gave a mighty push. The next thing Apollo knew the combined momentum sent him tumbling into the cockpit on top of Starbuck. "Oomph!" Starbuck's breath was knocked from his lungs as Apollo's weight slammed into his stomach knee first. "Get comfortable, Boys, it may be a while..." Boomer yelled as he reached in to hit the switch that closed the canopy. He raced off towards the remaining ship. Starbuck scrambled to pull in his arms and legs and get his buttocks in the seat. At the same time, Apollo was struggling to find something to grab onto that was not Starbuckish in nature, so he could rotate his body. He did not want to be nose to nose with the Lieutenant for the duration of this event. He could tell by the look on Starbuck's face that he fel "Same here," said Boxey. "Just 'cause I'm a kid." "Yeah, I hear ya, Box. Jutht ain't fair!" Suddenlly, chimes went off, and Blip got up."Lordth, another one? If thethe thingth keep payin' off, I'll be ruined!" He jumped up, and headed for the arcade area. "Here," said a voice. Boxey looked up, and a woman handed him a folder. "What's this?" "The rewrites for the next scene." She patted him on the cheek "So you'll know what to do." "Cool. Thanks." "Okay, dude. Vortex's up!!!!! Like here we go!!!!" shouted Hummer, as they entered the Commander's cabin. The young technician held the bizarre board up, and ran for the copy/fax/scanner/printer/vortex-thingy. Boomer grabbed on, and suddenly from Athena's direction there was this loud ripping noise, and........ "OH NOOOOOOOO!!!" cried Belloby. "OH NOOOOOOOO!!!" cried Sheba. "OH NOOOOOOOO!!!" cried Vela. "Gosh, he's cute," said Libidia. "Can it, Hormoneup onto it. He reached down to help the Captain. Apollo's head was spinning. His limbs seemed slow to respond to his brain's signals. "C'mon, Apollo!" Starbuck grabbed his flight jacket with both hands and pulled at the same time as Boomer gave a mighty push. The next thing Apollo knew the combined momentum sent him tumbling into the cockpit on top of Starbuck. "Oomph!" Starbuck's breath was knocked from his lungs as Apollo's weight slammed into his stomach knee first. "Get comfortable, Boys, it may be a while..." Boomer yelled as he reached in to hit the switch that closed the canopy. He raced off towards the remaining ship. Starbuck scrambled to pull in his arms and legs and get his buttocks in the seat. At the same time, Apollo was struggling to find something to grab onto that was not Starbuckish in nature, so he could rotate his body. He did not want to be nose to nose with the Lieutenant for the duration of this event. He could tell by the look on Starbuck's face that he felt the same way. "Sorry, Bucko," he muttered as he placed his hand on his friend's chest and pushed down, giving him the necessary leverage to shift his body. The canopy lowered into position. Apollo grimaced as he settled himself tentatively onto Starbuck's lap. Meanwhile, the lieutenant appeared to be having difficulty deciding where to rest his hands. "Boomer is never going to let us live this down." Apollo groaned. "Look on the bright side," Starbuck muttered as he watched the pyroclastic flow sweep towards them, "odds are we're not going to survive this anyway." ======= And now, the end of the conclusion of the next chapter that you haven't read yet following the last one that you already have finished, of "The Starbuck Chroicles". ======= "Well, I know one thing that's going to change," said Apollo, trying uselessly to get his face out of the Lieutenant's ear. "What's that, Captain?" said Starbuck, suddenly feeling to urge to.... "Next time I fly Breath!" snarled Belloby. "Heeeeeeeelllpp!" gasped Baltar. * * * * * * "Rwwwwrrrwwwwh!" said Mufit. * * * * * * WHAT is going on now? WHAT evil plans does Iblis have in store for Apollo? CAN the girls help him? WHAT is Hummer doing with that board? WHO was on his video monitor? WHAT about Starbuck, and the other two? WHO is "Muvver"? WHY did Muffit say "Rwwwwrrrwwwwh!"? WILL Boxey have time to learn his new lines? WILL the DNA tests on Vela's kids come back before the next commercial break? WHO is "Dano"? For the answers to these, and a whole bunch of other stuff, well, maybe, tune in to the next umbragiferously irritating episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Be here (aloha), when we'll hear Donald Bellisario say, "Uh oh. We sent the kid the wrong script!" ======= /Jaws Meets/ /McHale's Navy/ will not be seen at this time. In its place, we present the following program, which we have a sinking feeling you probably won't digest. When wet the same way. "Sorry, Bucko," he muttered as he placed his hand on his friend's chest and pushed down, giving him the necessary leverage to shift his body. The canopy lowered into position. Apollo grimaced as he settled himself tentatively onto Starbuck's lap. Meanwhile, the lieutenant appeared to be having difficulty deciding where to rest his hands. "Boomer is never going to let us live this down." Apollo groaned. "Look on the bright side," Starbuck muttered as he watched the pyroclastic flow sweep towards them, "odds are we're not going to survive this anyway." ======= And now, the end of the conclusion of the next chapter that you haven't read yet following the last one that you already have finished, of "The Starbuck Chroicles". ======= "Well, I know one thing that's going to change," said Apollo, trying uselessly to get his face out of the Lieutenant's ear. "What's that, Captain?" said Starbuck, suddenly feeling to urge to.... "Next time I fly with you," said Apollo, bumping his head on the canopy, "it's going to be in the two-seater version. No doubt about it. You hear me? By all the Lords....Starbuck!!!!" "Uhh.....what, Apollo?" Oh Lords of Kobol, please let this not have not been a dream??? The Vipers blasted back into the sky, mere centons ahead of the searing pyroclastic flow that was screaming across the landscape of the barren planet. Within moments, the remains of Apollo's crashed ship were pitilessly and remoreselessly subsumed in a relentless, inexorable, unstoppable, fearsome, ferocious, really bad looking, hellish roiling river of volcanicly exuded death. "We missed it, buddy," said Starbuck, looking out his canopy as he rolled his ship slighly. "Just barely." "One must be thankful for small favors, I suppose," gasped Apollo, still feeling as if he were stuck under a sofa. "Starbuck, have you ever heard of Q-Tips?" "Huh?" "That's what I figured. Okay, let's get the Hades Hole out o last left our heroes, Starbuck and Apollo had been led to the depths of Hades Hole by the diabolical Count Iblis. Starbuck had been assigned to Iblis' fatuous twin brother, Dibley, and his sexy sidekick, Mrs. Peel. Apollo, meanwhile, had been challenged by the Count across a River of the /most /Stygian qualities, excruciatingly aware of the fact that Iblis held Boxey hostage. Meanwhile, while gazing through their respective crystal balls and wormholes, those left aboard the /Galactica/ had just launched their rescue party, consisting of Boomer and Technician Hummer on their sci-fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, uber /he'enalu/ board, as Belloby and her newly(re)formed /Divas-R-Us/, were planning their own rescue mission. So............ Get off your couches, and into your overstuffed, executive-style office chairs! The Starbuck Chronicles are back! Just accept it. /"Arrrrrrrgggggghhhhhhhh!"/ Boomer screamed as he held on tightly to the board. He couldn't see a frackwith you," said Apollo, bumping his head on the canopy, "it's going to be in the two-seater version. No doubt about it. You hear me? By all the Lords....Starbuck!!!!" "Uhh.....what, Apollo?" Oh Lords of Kobol, please let this not have not been a dream??? The Vipers blasted back into the sky, mere centons ahead of the searing pyroclastic flow that was screaming across the landscape of the barren planet. Within moments, the remains of Apollo's crashed ship were pitilessly and remoreselessly subsumed in a relentless, inexorable, unstoppable, fearsome, ferocious, really bad looking, hellish roiling river of volcanicly exuded death. "We missed it, buddy," said Starbuck, looking out his canopy as he rolled his ship slighly. "Just barely." "One must be thankful for small favors, I suppose," gasped Apollo, still feeling as if he were stuck under a sofa. "Starbuck, have you ever heard of Q-Tips?" "Huh?" "That's what I figured. Okay, let's get the Hades Hole out of here. You there, Boomer?" "Yes indeedy, Captain." I've gone insane! That must be it. Pure, unadulterated madness. With a sense of smell. "Let's get back to the Fleet. Report our findings to the Commander on the tylium deposits." "I'd be happy to oblige, Captain, only..." "Only what? That was an order." "Only the six Cylon BaseShips directly ahead of us might make that a toughie. Sir." "Aw frack. Where did those come from?" said Starbuck. He looked down at his Captain. "Apollo, please don't cry." Tune in again for the next exciting episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles." Be with us next time, when we'll hear Starbuck say "And just what is wrong with my aftershave, might I ask?" And, if you tune in early for the spoiler (and are nice to me), you MIGHT get to hear Siress Belloby say... "BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" The Starbuck Chronicles-Part 32 When last we left our heroes, Apollo, Boomer, and Starbuck (those ging thing. All he knew was he seemed to be flying through regions of space and time with some piece of cloth over his eyes and he was missing it all. "Well, she got her Daddy's hov and she cruised to the grilled protein stand, now. Seems she forgot all about the librarium, like she told her old man, now. And with the FBI blasting she goes cruising just as fast as she can, now. Yeah, she'll have fun, fun, fun, till her Daddy takes the Tavian away!" Hummer sang as the stars flew by. "Most excellent, Dude!" He threw back his head, and bellowed: "Oh yeah! She'll have fun, fun, fun, till her..." "What in Hades Hole is that?" bellowed Boomer. "It's music, Dude!" "Oh. I see. Well, shouldn't that be "IFB", rather than "FBI"? "Hhmm....Yeah, ya got a point, dude. I'll have to mull that one a bit. Boy, you sure are foxy, Boom-Boom. 'Oh yeah, she'll have fun, fun, fun, till her daddy takes the Tavian away-y-y-y-yyy!!!!!!!!!!!' So, Dude, whaddya..." THUNK!!!! "What was tf here. You there, Boomer?" "Yes indeedy, Captain." I've gone insane! That must be it. Pure, unadulterated madness. With a sense of smell. "Let's get back to the Fleet. Report our findings to the Commander on the tylium deposits." "I'd be happy to oblige, Captain, only..." "Only what? That was an order." "Only the six Cylon BaseShips directly ahead of us might make that a toughie. Sir." "Aw frack. Where did those come from?" said Starbuck. He looked down at his Captain. "Apollo, please don't cry." Tune in again for the next exciting episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles." Be with us next time, when we'll hear Starbuck say "And just what is wrong with my aftershave, might I ask?" And, if you tune in early for the spoiler (and are nice to me), you MIGHT get to hear Siress Belloby say... "BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" The Starbuck Chronicles-Part 32 When last we left our heroes, Apollo, Boomer, and Starbuck (those guys) were returning to the Fleet from scouting a planet for tylium, even though it might merely have been part of Apollo's dream that he was dreaming during the attempted rescue of Starbuck who had been kidnapped and stripped NAKED by a bunch of sex-crazed Priestesses following a Triad match that might merely have been unreal, if it wasn't. Everything clear? Good. Now- Previously, on "The Starbuck Chronicles"... ======= "Let's get back to the Fleet. Report our findings to the Commander on the tylium deposits." "I'd be happy to oblige, Captain, only..." "Only what? That was an order." "Only the six Cylon BaseShips directly ahead of us might make that a toughie. Sir." "Aw frack. Where did those come from?" said Starbuck. He looked down at his Captain. "Apollo, please don't cry." And now, another peripatetically incoherant episode, kind of like those "Jolly, you forgot the kids" eps, of "The Starbuck Chronicles". ======= "Look!" said Bellobyhat?" Boomer called out as he loosened his grip on the board to pull... oh, frack! It appeared to be Athena's dress. Hades, he knew that under her dress she had been wearing... Oh, Lords, what would Adama think? * * * * * "You know what I think, Athena?" said Adama. * * * * * "What exactly did Count Iblis want you to do with me?" Starbuck asked Dibley, but his eyes wandered back to Emma... Mrs. Peel. What a vision! How did such a woman of such beauty and elegance end up with Dibley? "Casting." She winked at him. "Did I say that out loud?" Starbuck murmured in wonder. "No. Remember this is Hades Hole, Lieutenant Starbuck. It's a given that every woman here can read your every thought. It's called The Reversion Gibson Effect. There are no secrets in Hades Hole." Mrs. Peel explained. "Can he read my thoughts too?" Starbuck indicated Dibley. "No. Only I can. He, after all, is merely a man. The rule only applies to women." She smiled at him and poured him uys) were returning to the Fleet from scouting a planet for tylium, even though it might merely have been part of Apollo's dream that he was dreaming during the attempted rescue of Starbuck who had been kidnapped and stripped NAKED by a bunch of sex-crazed Priestesses following a Triad match that might merely have been unreal, if it wasn't. Everything clear? Good. Now- Previously, on "The Starbuck Chronicles"... ======= "Let's get back to the Fleet. Report our findings to the Commander on the tylium deposits." "I'd be happy to oblige, Captain, only..." "Only what? That was an order." "Only the six Cylon BaseShips directly ahead of us might make that a toughie. Sir." "Aw frack. Where did those come from?" said Starbuck. He looked down at his Captain. "Apollo, please don't cry." And now, another peripatetically incoherant episode, kind of like those "Jolly, you forgot the kids" eps, of "The Starbuck Chronicles". ======= "Look!" said Belloby. "Everything is going according to my Master Plan! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" "But Mistress, surely they will discover..." "SILENCE, O Infantiley Budded One! Things are proceeding as desired. They will know nothing, I tell you. Nothhhhhhhhhhh-ing!!!" "Yes, Serg....Siress." "Now, back to work!" "Whay have the Cylons captured us, and not just blasted us?" asked Boomer, as they were led away from the landing bay of one of the BaseShips. "How should I know?" replied Starbuck, a Centurion's rifle pressed into the smooth, muscular, supple, bronzed skin of his naked back. "Maybe they want to capture us, and torture us to death." "All a dream. All a dream," Apollo kept burbling, as they were led towards the Control Center. "Mom, wake me up, please." "Apollo?" "Athena I'll never short sheet the bed again! I promise." "Silence, Human vermin!' said one Centurion. "Nice buns," said the other Cylon. "I think he likes you, Starbuck," sa drink from a large bottle, of some bubbling wine with which he was unfamiliar, pressing it into his unresisting hands. "Merely a man?" Starbuck asked, smelling the sweet liquor. He blinked as his vision blurred slightly. He began to feel very strange... more so than normal... "Did I not make it clear, Lieutenant? YOU ARE IN HADES HOLE!" Emma's elegant features began contorting into a hideous form. Her skin seemed to bubble and shift upon her face, as huge boils formed and rolled across her skull. Her hair began to fall out at the roots and a great horn erupted from the middle of her forehead. Her body kept its shapely form, and an elegant hand, made all the more obscene by the revolting head affixed upon her body, pulled down her zipper. The crests of her shapely breasts peeked out alluringly. A thick, low-toned, echoing voice taunted him, "Do you still want me, Starbuck?" The terrible creature reached out for him... * * * * * Apollo paced along the fiery depths of the riv. "Everything is going according to my Master Plan! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" "But Mistress, surely they will discover..." "SILENCE, O Infantiley Budded One! Things are proceeding as desired. They will know nothing, I tell you. Nothhhhhhhhhhh-ing!!!" "Yes, Serg....Siress." "Now, back to work!" "Whay have the Cylons captured us, and not just blasted us?" asked Boomer, as they were led away from the landing bay of one of the BaseShips. "How should I know?" replied Starbuck, a Centurion's rifle pressed into the smooth, muscular, supple, bronzed skin of his naked back. "Maybe they want to capture us, and torture us to death." "All a dream. All a dream," Apollo kept burbling, as they were led towards the Control Center. "Mom, wake me up, please." "Apollo?" "Athena I'll never short sheet the bed again! I promise." "Silence, Human vermin!' said one Centurion. "Nice buns," said the other Cylon. "I think he likes you, Starbuck," said Boomer. "Oh, great. All I need." "They really are," said the Centurion. "Aw can it, tin head!" said Starbuck. "And get that stinking rifle out of my back!" "Stinking?" Look who's talking!" snickered the Centurion. "Huh?" "I'll just take Sominex tonight, and sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-p!' moaned Apollo. "Ah, welcome," said a voice as they entered the Control Center. Starbuck stiffened at the sight of the villanous Baltar. Boomer tensed, as if ready to strangle the treasonous Colonial. Apollo kept muttering; "John. I'll bet John put something in the air on the Ship Of Lights. That's it." "Apollo?" asked Baltar, frowning. "Is that a hairpiece?" the Captain asked him, now reduced to jibberish. He sniffed the air. "Starbuck! yuck!" "What?" "Ha!" snickered the Centurion again. "Starbuck," asked Baltar, wrinkling his nose, "what in Hades did you do? Swin in it?" "And just what is wrong with my aftershave, might I ask?" ====er, desperate to find a way across. On the other side, Count Iblis awaited him. Mocking him. Taunting him. "Your son's tokens are running out, Captain." Apollo didn't respond. "What's the matter, Mortal? Run out of plot devices?" Still nothing. "John's pet!!!!" Apollo looked at the Count curiously, wondering if there was some kind of message or riddle hidden in the words. Drawing himself up, he looked at Iblis. "Styx and stones may break my bones," said Apollo, sneering at the Count, "but words can never hurt me!" "Oh Apollo. How could you sink so low?" Eyes glinting evilly, Iblis snapped his fingers. Suddenly, a shadow fell across Apollo, and he looked up. It wasn't Rover, but he did see something hurtling down into the River. The furry, mechanical form hit the middle of the River squarely. Apollo didn't hesitate as he took a running leap. His boot caught the furry... yet shiny... form squarely on the back and he leapt to the other side, his momentum driving the fallaid Boomer. "Oh, great. All I need." "They really are," said the Centurion. "Aw can it, tin head!" said Starbuck. "And get that stinking rifle out of my back!" "Stinking?" Look who's talking!" snickered the Centurion. "Huh?" "I'll just take Sominex tonight, and sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-p!' moaned Apollo. "Ah, welcome," said a voice as they entered the Control Center. Starbuck stiffened at the sight of the villanous Baltar. Boomer tensed, as if ready to strangle the treasonous Colonial. Apollo kept muttering; "John. I'll bet John put something in the air on the Ship Of Lights. That's it." "Apollo?" asked Baltar, frowning. "Is that a hairpiece?" the Captain asked him, now reduced to jibberish. He sniffed the air. "Starbuck! yuck!" "What?" "Ha!" snickered the Centurion again. "Starbuck," asked Baltar, wrinkling his nose, "what in Hades did you do? Swin in it?" "And just what is wrong with my aftershave, might I ask?" ======= And now for the next demented segment of: The Starbuck Chronicles-Part 33 "Starbuck, just what the frack is that aftershave?" Boomer asked moving as far away from him as he could get while surrounded by centurions. "Aquarian Velva," he replied, rubbing the goose bumps on his arms. "Apollo gave it to me." Boomer looked at Apollo in surprise, "I thought you liked him?" Apollo looked away in embarrassment, "Well, it was supposed to be a practical joke. Who knew he'd wear it when we were around?" "Practical jokes never were your strong suit," Boomer commented, "Best to leave them to the pro's." He indicated the shivering Starbuck. "Excuse me, gentlemen. I hate to so rudely interrupt your meaningful discussion on the lieutenant's body odor, but if you get back to the topic at hand, you are now my prisoners." Baltar commented snidely. "Isn't there something somewhere that says all prisoners should be allowed clothing?" Starbuck asked. "A handbook of rulesen object further into the stygian depths. A faint, "Wrrrrrbbbbinnnngggggg," echoed through the cavern. "Muffit?" Apollo muttered quietly, looking back where the form had disappeared beneath the molten flow. Lords. If it had somehow been Muffit... then the daggit may have saved Boxey's life once again. He'd heard his last 'Wrrrrbbbbinnnnngggggg'. A faint grin crossed his features before he turned to face the Count. "Where's my son, Iblis?" * * * * * "Boxey, you need to come with me!" Boxey looked up to see Boomer gazing back at him, only he looked odd. Though he appeared to be Boomer-like in every way from the knees up, he had two large bleach bottles, their capacity at least four litrons, which he was wearing as combat boots. "Want to play Compartment Billyarks with me, Boomer? I'm pretty good." Boxey asked from where he was standing above the game. Behind him, Blip was counting game tokens. "No, kid. We gotta go now. Someone's expecting us." Borax, Korax's === And now for the next demented segment of: The Starbuck Chronicles-Part 33 "Starbuck, just what the frack is that aftershave?" Boomer asked moving as far away from him as he could get while surrounded by centurions. "Aquarian Velva," he replied, rubbing the goose bumps on his arms. "Apollo gave it to me." Boomer looked at Apollo in surprise, "I thought you liked him?" Apollo looked away in embarrassment, "Well, it was supposed to be a practical joke. Who knew he'd wear it when we were around?" "Practical jokes never were your strong suit," Boomer commented, "Best to leave them to the pro's." He indicated the shivering Starbuck. "Excuse me, gentlemen. I hate to so rudely interrupt your meaningful discussion on the lieutenant's body odor, but if you get back to the topic at hand, you are now my prisoners." Baltar commented snidely. "Isn't there something somewhere that says all prisoners should be allowed clothing?" Starbuck asked. "A handbook of rules? Some fine print? Common sense?" "What exactly happened to your clothes, Starbuck? I'm sure when you got into the viper with Apollo your had them on." Boomer mentioned. "Danged if I know, Boomer. That's just the way the last couple days have gone for me. Frankly, I'm getting a bit sick of being naked. It's worse than that rash of maniacal laughter that was going around a while ago." "Ah hem!" Baltar cleared his throat loudly. "Focus on me, gentlemen. Remember me? Baltar! Really bad, evil type guy that enabled the destruction of the colonies!" "Did you save any of the clothes and bring them with you?" Starbuck asked hopefully. "Enough!" Baltar yelled. "Take him!" he pointed to Starbuck. Two centurions grabbed him by the arms. "Now Apollo, if you don't give me the exact coordinates for the Galactica we will take away Starbuck and do some really mean things to him!" "Why me?" asked Starbuck. "Why don't you pick on Boomer for a change? Apollo's clearly having a mentyounger twin brother, replied. He looked down at his boots, realizing he didn't have this shape-shifting thing down quite yet. Maybe that was why Senmut turned him down for the part of shape-shifter in the Virtual Season Episodes*. He just didn't have the right jugs for the job. "If you come with me now, I'll give you a little something to make it worth your while." He knew Count Iblis was waiting for the bait to dangle in front of the Captain. "A mushy." Boxey replied as he looked around in confusion. The words seemed familiar... but the set was all wrong. "Yeah, Boxey." Borax replied in Boomer's voice. "How could you know that? I was keeping it a secret." "You can't with Muffey around." Boxey looked around, suddenly disoriented. Muffey was nowhere to be seen. "I trained him to sniff out mushies." Suddenly, a loud noise was heard from the other room and Boxey twisted to see Blip on the floor, a large video game machine knocked over on top of him, and two men propelled throu? Some fine print? Common sense?" "What exactly happened to your clothes, Starbuck? I'm sure when you got into the viper with Apollo your had them on." Boomer mentioned. "Danged if I know, Boomer. That's just the way the last couple days have gone for me. Frankly, I'm getting a bit sick of being naked. It's worse than that rash of maniacal laughter that was going around a while ago." "Ah hem!" Baltar cleared his throat loudly. "Focus on me, gentlemen. Remember me? Baltar! Really bad, evil type guy that enabled the destruction of the colonies!" "Did you save any of the clothes and bring them with you?" Starbuck asked hopefully. "Enough!" Baltar yelled. "Take him!" he pointed to Starbuck. Two centurions grabbed him by the arms. "Now Apollo, if you don't give me the exact coordinates for the Galactica we will take away Starbuck and do some really mean things to him!" "Why me?" asked Starbuck. "Why don't you pick on Boomer for a change? Apollo's clearly having a mental breakdown and I think I've been the subject of abuse and ridicule too many times already." The Captain had started weeping and holding his head in his hands crying, "I'll never be mean to Muffit again! Ever! I promise!!!!" Baltar plugged his nose and moved further from the naked lieutenant, "Because, Starbuck, you stink of too much Aquarian Velva! Take him away and give the Captain some time to think about it." Apollo and Boomer could hear Starbuck muttering as they dragged him away, "If you guys would just give me some clothes, I might be persuaded to tell you where the Galactica is myself!" And now... Starbuck paced the cold, dark cell, hugging his arms against his bare chest to conserve every bit of warmth that he had left. That scrap that covered...well, you know... just didn't provide much warmth. Mong, but it seemed to be getting colder by the micron. Probably a Cylon plot to get him to talk. So as he paced, he muttered: "Of all the frakking, stupid... wgh the room on a large hoverboard of some kind. One of them looked a lot like Boomer, except his face was half covered with a sheer piece of cloth... and he was wearing regulation Colonial combat boots. The other man was singing, "Oh, I wish they all could be Sagittarian, I wish they all could be Sagittarian, I wish they all could be Sagittarian Girls!" Borax crossed the room, and slammed the hatch shut, sealing it tight. He pulled out a fuser and began to weld the hatch shut. No one would get in now. Bwahahahahaha! "Why did they close the doors?" Boxey asked, wide-eyed and bewildered as he looked around to find himself alone with Boomer and his bleach bottles. "I'm not afraid, my Dad'll protect us from those old... Cylons." His eyes filled with tears as Borax approached him slowly. "Oh, oh. We sent the kid the wrong script!" Donald Bellisario groaned as he tipped his scotch glass up to his lips. /I told you,/ said the card the Butler Guy handed him. "Oh, go wash a golal breakdown and I think I've been the subject of abuse and ridicule too many times already." The Captain had started weeping and holding his head in his hands crying, "I'll never be mean to Muffit again! Ever! I promise!!!!" Baltar plugged his nose and moved further from the naked lieutenant, "Because, Starbuck, you stink of too much Aquarian Velva! Take him away and give the Captain some time to think about it." Apollo and Boomer could hear Starbuck muttering as they dragged him away, "If you guys would just give me some clothes, I might be persuaded to tell you where the Galactica is myself!" And now... Starbuck paced the cold, dark cell, hugging his arms against his bare chest to conserve every bit of warmth that he had left. That scrap that covered...well, you know... just didn't provide much warmth. Mong, but it seemed to be getting colder by the micron. Probably a Cylon plot to get him to talk. So as he paced, he muttered: "Of all the frakking, stupid... why me? Hm? Why is it always me? You'd think I'd been cursed, or something! So much for the infamous 'Starbuck Luck. Frakking, gol monging --" Starbuck froze (stopped in his tracks, that is) at the sound of the cell door sliding open. The scowl on his face turned into a smirk when he saw the flowing robes and perky flashing lights as Lucifer glided in. "Here to torture me yourself?" Starbuck crossed his arms and glared at him. "Look, I'd ask what you've done with Apollo and Boomer, but right now -- frankly, I don't give a frak. Seems lately -- and maybe it's just my imagination -- but it's always *me* who gets stripped naked, tied up, put in the deep freeze, nearly drowned, made into a crawlon's lunch -- wait. I think that was just a dream." Starbuck jabbed a finer at Lucifer, who had stopped as the cell door slid shut and was patiently waiting for the lieutenant to finish. "Anyway, I'm too frakking mad for me to give a flip about anything *you* -- and especially that glob-ff ball!" snarled Bellisario. /Grouch!/ "Wrong script?" said Ronald Moore. "I never imagined that." * * * * * "Shh!" the young diva/ former priestess whispered as the five women crept through the tunnels. "Why?" Sheba asked. "Did you hear something?" "Hey, that's the only line they've given me, and I'm going to milk it for all it's worth." she replied, wishing the writers would give her a name. "Get back in line." Belloby griped to her. "I'm the illustrious leader of Diva's-R-Us, so I'll lead." "Fine with me," the youngster replied, brushing her glossy hair back off her face. She looked over her shoulder at Vela, who was munching on a mint. "Where are we going?" "We have to find Boxey. If we find the kid, then it frees up Apollo to go head to head with Dibley... I mean Iblis," Vela explained. "It's his only chance at a fair fight." "What about Starbuck?" the youngster asked with a leer. "After all, he's pretty cute, and I like the wayhy me? Hm? Why is it always me? You'd think I'd been cursed, or something! So much for the infamous 'Starbuck Luck. Frakking, gol monging --" Starbuck froze (stopped in his tracks, that is) at the sound of the cell door sliding open. The scowl on his face turned into a smirk when he saw the flowing robes and perky flashing lights as Lucifer glided in. "Here to torture me yourself?" Starbuck crossed his arms and glared at him. "Look, I'd ask what you've done with Apollo and Boomer, but right now -- frankly, I don't give a frak. Seems lately -- and maybe it's just my imagination -- but it's always *me* who gets stripped naked, tied up, put in the deep freeze, nearly drowned, made into a crawlon's lunch -- wait. I think that was just a dream." Starbuck jabbed a finer at Lucifer, who had stopped as the cell door slid shut and was patiently waiting for the lieutenant to finish. "Anyway, I'm too frakking mad for me to give a flip about anything *you* -- and especially that glob-faced Baltar -- might do to me right now!" Lucifer gazed at the huffing and puffing Colonial Warrior, then inclined his head slightly, his lights whirling brightly. "My, what a pleasure to have you back!" Starbuck frowned at the Cylon. "I quite enjoyed your last visit, so many sectars ago." He paused to watch Starbuck's face go from angry to suspicious to confused, then continued. "I thought you might like to have this." He pulled out a Colonial Warrior uniform -- well, pants, at least -- from under his robes and extented it towards the lieutenant, who took the clothing cautiously. Well, pants were better than just ripped-up underwear. And it actually seemed to be warming up in the cell. Hmmmm. "Oh, and I have this!" added the Cylon. He handed Starbuck a fumarello after the warrior had donned his pants. The lieutenant eyed Lucifer. "Go on. It's perfectly fine." "Normal drugs don't work on me," said Starbuck as he slowly took the fumarello. He sniffed it, then took a he dances. "After all, we haven't seen him dance for a few eps." "He was hanging out with that tramp, Peel, when last we looked into the crystal ball. I think he's fine." Sheba snapped. Starbuck could take care of himself. As usual, he was with a beautiful woman while the Captain was locked in a battle of good and evil with Count Iblis. Yeah, Starbuck was the least of their worries. * * * * * "No, Father," replied Athena. "What do you think?" * * * * * WHAT will the hideously mutated Mrs. Peel do to Starbuck? HOW will the confrontation between Apollo and Iblis end? WILL the young priestess get a name? (I vote for Myrtle.) WILL Boomer and Hummer get through the sealed door in time? HOW will Muffit survive the flaming river? (/I/ vote he doesn't.) IS Apollo REALLY John's pet? WHAT was Adama thinking? WILL Boxey ever get the right script? For the answers to these, and maybe a few other questions we might think of in the meantime, be sure to catch aced Baltar -- might do to me right now!" Lucifer gazed at the huffing and puffing Colonial Warrior, then inclined his head slightly, his lights whirling brightly. "My, what a pleasure to have you back!" Starbuck frowned at the Cylon. "I quite enjoyed your last visit, so many sectars ago." He paused to watch Starbuck's face go from angry to suspicious to confused, then continued. "I thought you might like to have this." He pulled out a Colonial Warrior uniform -- well, pants, at least -- from under his robes and extented it towards the lieutenant, who took the clothing cautiously. Well, pants were better than just ripped-up underwear. And it actually seemed to be warming up in the cell. Hmmmm. "Oh, and I have this!" added the Cylon. He handed Starbuck a fumarello after the warrior had donned his pants. The lieutenant eyed Lucifer. "Go on. It's perfectly fine." "Normal drugs don't work on me," said Starbuck as he slowly took the fumarello. He sniffed it, then took a careful bite on the end. Seemed fine, so he shrugged and then stuck it in his mouth. "So what's the catch, bulb-head?" He narrowed his eyes. "Would you like to have it lit?" Lucifer held out a finger. "Pardon?" "I have a heat sensitive node in my first digit that can generate enough thermal energy to ignite your funarello." "Ah. Sure..." He held out the fumarello. Lucifer touched his finger to it, and it hissed and smoldered to life. "Cool," Starbuck muttered as he inspected the gift once more before finally sticking it in his mouth with another shrug. All the while, Lucifer was watching him, studying him, with a gaze that finally made Starbuck squirm. Just what was the deal here? Finally Lucifer said -- or rather, almost purred, "I have a proposition for you, Lieutenant." Starbuck narrowed his eyes. "What kind of proposition?" Lucifer pulled a deck of cards from out of his sleeve. "I understand that you are what they call a 'gambling man.' careful bite on the end. Seemed fine, so he shrugged and then stuck it in his mouth. "So what's the catch, bulb-head?" He narrowed his eyes. "Would you like to have it lit?" Lucifer held out a finger. "Pardon?" "I have a heat sensitive node in my first digit that can generate enough thermal energy to ignite your funarello." "Ah. Sure..." He held out the fumarello. Lucifer touched his finger to it, and it hissed and smoldered to life. "Cool," Starbuck muttered as he inspected the gift once more before finally sticking it in his mouth with another shrug. All the while, Lucifer was watching him, studying him, with a gaze that finally made Starbuck squirm. Just what was the deal here? Finally Lucifer said -- or rather, almost purred, "I have a proposition for you, Lieutenant." Starbuck narrowed his eyes. "What kind of proposition?" Lucifer pulled a deck of cards from out of his sleeve. "I understand that you are what they call a 'gambling man.' the next indubitably offaliferous episode of /The Starbuck Chronicles./ Tune in, when we'll hear Blip say, ""WILL SOMEONE GET THIS MACHINE OFF OF ME????????!!?!?!?!?!?!?!" * Hey, the Ziklagi FanFicList Actor's Guild refused a loan-out. What could I do? (Tell it to Borax, Pal.) ======= Sesame Street Goes To Seed will not be seen at this time. In its place we present the following run-down program. When last we left our heroes, heroines, villains, golf caddies and such, Starbuck was confronted by a hideously mutated creature that had moments before been a beautiful woman, Apollo was confronting the evil Count Iblis in an attempt to find the missing Boxey, Muffit may have sacrificed himself yet again for his young charge, I'm not sure what Dibley, Iblis' ne'er-do-well brother was doing, Boomer and Hummer were hurtling towards a sealed hatch on a magic floating board, a piece of Athena's unmentionables draped over Boom-Boom's face, Siress Belloby and the newly Thus, in place of trying to torture the information from you, I propose we play a game of Pyramid, which you so kindly taught me during your previous visit." Starbuck grinned, the fumarello clamped between his teeth as he puffed out clouds of smoke. "Sooooo," he said slowly, "if you win, I answer all of your questions." "Correct." "What if I win?" "Then we release you and your friends." Starbuck snorted. "Baldy-faced Baltar would ever agree to that." "Hmmm..." Lucifer's lights slowed briefly, then flashed even faster. If Starbuck hadn't know better, he'd have thought that the robot was smirking to itself. "I wouldn't worry about him." "Oh?" Starbuck raised his eyebrows. "He only *thinks* he's in charge. Now, about my proposition?" Starbuck grinned. "I accept." "Now," said Lucifer casually as he withdrew from under his flowing robes a compact folding table and set it up with the flip of a wrist. It came complete with two chairs. StarThus, in place of trying to torture the information from you, I propose we play a game of Pyramid, which you so kindly taught me during your previous visit." Starbuck grinned, the fumarello clamped between his teeth as he puffed out clouds of smoke. "Sooooo," he said slowly, "if you win, I answer all of your questions." "Correct." "What if I win?" "Then we release you and your friends." Starbuck snorted. "Baldy-faced Baltar would ever agree to that." "Hmmm..." Lucifer's lights slowed briefly, then flashed even faster. If Starbuck hadn't know better, he'd have thought that the robot was smirking to itself. "I wouldn't worry about him." "Oh?" Starbuck raised his eyebrows. "He only *thinks* he's in charge. Now, about my proposition?" Starbuck grinned. "I accept." "Now," said Lucifer casually as he withdrew from under his flowing robes a compact folding table and set it up with the flip of a wrist. It came complete with two chairs. Star reconstipated Divas-R-Us were closing in on...something, a huge video game machine had fallen on Blip, Boxey was stuck with the imposter-Boomer, with both the wrong script and very odd footwear, we were left wondering what Adama was thinking, and, oh yes, Ronald D. Moore was having trouble imagining any of it. All caught up now? Well, tough! ======= "I don't know, Apollo," replied Iblis. "Honestly. I have no idea where your son is right now." "And why on Earth would I..." "Caprica. It's 'why on Caprica'." "Oh, right. Uhh...why on Caprica should I believe anything you tell me? You've lied, cheated, stolen, deceived, brainwashed, corrupted and murdered non-stop from the moment we first encountered you, Iblis." "Hey, it's my job. Basically, I just around stay for the benefits and pension plan." "WHERE IS BOXEY????????????????" "Honestly, Apollo, I don't know!" "And why not?!??!!?" shouted Apollo heatedly. "Because they gabuck, impressed, wondered what else he had up his robes. "I must remind you that should you lose, I will expect full cooperation. Also, I am programmed to detect the slightest nuances in a human's vital functions; thus, I will be able to discern whether or not you are being truthful." "Really," was Starbuck's reply as he sat at the table. "Your deal or mine?" Part 35 Lucifer studied the Lieutenant carefully. He had made the study of humans, or more precisely Baltar, one of his hobbies. He was well aware of their duplicity. What he was really curious about was luck. On his last visit with Starbuck, he realized the man was skilled as a gambler; however, he could not compute how he had consistently beaten the odds and won hand after hand. Lucifer had innovated his games program to attempt to incorporate the Lieutenant's luck into the quotient. Starbuck was lining up the cylon currency with his left hand while fingering his fumarello with his right. They had agreed to start wbuck, impressed, wondered what else he had up his robes. "I must remind you that should you lose, I will expect full cooperation. Also, I am programmed to detect the slightest nuances in a human's vital functions; thus, I will be able to discern whether or not you are being truthful." "Really," was Starbuck's reply as he sat at the table. "Your deal or mine?" Part 35 Lucifer studied the Lieutenant carefully. He had made the study of humans, or more precisely Baltar, one of his hobbies. He was well aware of their duplicity. What he was really curious about was luck. On his last visit with Starbuck, he realized the man was skilled as a gambler; however, he could not compute how he had consistently beaten the odds and won hand after hand. Lucifer had innovated his games program to attempt to incorporate the Lieutenant's luck into the quotient. Starbuck was lining up the cylon currency with his left hand while fingering his fumarello with his right. They had agreed to start wve me the wrong script, too." "Oh, man!" He took the proffered document, and opened it up. "Who's 'Mother'?" * * * * * * "I think, " said Adama as he tried to avert his eyes from Athena's chest, "that Boomer should not have gone off with Hummer like that. We have no idea what traversing that vortex in reverse could do to them." "Ah ha!" said Igraine, hands on hips. "Still plotting. I see now where Apollo gets it!" "Excuse me?" Adama shook his head in dismay, drawn to the lyrics tattooed across the swell of his daughter's perky- loos. Boom boom boom, let's go back to my room... He turned away, despite the morbid fascination. "Trying to evade responsibility again! Yes, yes, I see it." She turned to stare at Athena. "Nice boob job. I always liked that tune." Then she looked back up at her Auntie's face. "I'm going to see Sire Solon. Man, but am I gonna sue!" "For what?" asked Athena. "Child support? Oh, and they're mine." She covered her bosom with ith an equal amount of currency. Starbuck was slightly ahead of Lucifer with his winnings, but Baltar's second in command had apparently learned a few things along the way. "I'll hover with these." Starbuck put a full half of his coins down as his bet. "So, tell me Lucifer, do you still have my old viper around here? The one you kept at Kobol?" Lucifer marveled at the warrior's capability to limit his emotional output. His temperature was steady at 37.2 degrees. Lucifer's sensors could detect the slight pulsation over his carotid artery being maintained at a consistent 68 beats per centon. He did not display any nervous affectations or mood swings as was so common with Baltar. Lucifer examined his cards carefully. Surely, he had him this time. After all, he had three-quarters of a pyramid. He carefully counted out his currency to match Starbuck's bet. "I believe we do, Lieutenant. I like to keep it as a reminder of another of Baltar's plans gone awry." Starbuck noticed Lucifer's lightith an equal amount of currency. Starbuck was slightly ahead of Lucifer with his winnings, but Baltar's second in command had apparently learned a few things along the way. "I'll hover with these." Starbuck put a full half of his coins down as his bet. "So, tell me Lucifer, do you still have my old viper around here? The one you kept at Kobol?" Lucifer marveled at the warrior's capability to limit his emotional output. His temperature was steady at 37.2 degrees. Lucifer's sensors could detect the slight pulsation over his carotid artery being maintained at a consistent 68 beats per centon. He did not display any nervous affectations or mood swings as was so common with Baltar. Lucifer examined his cards carefully. Surely, he had him this time. After all, he had three-quarters of a pyramid. He carefully counted out his currency to match Starbuck's bet. "I believe we do, Lieutenant. I like to keep it as a reminder of another of Baltar's plans gone awry." Starbuck noticed Lucifer's lightthe large handkerchief her father had been mopping his brow with, folding it once, twice, and thrice and fashioning it into an attractive halter-top. "More lines!" * * * * * * "WILL THOMEONE GET THITH MATHINE OFF OF ME??????!?!?!?!??!!" bellowed Blip. It wasn't just that the machine was heavy. It was. It wasn't just that it was sharp and imbalanced, and stuck into his gut pretty bad. It did. It was primarily because it was suddenly paying off, and if he didn't get control of it, and soon, the till wouldn't balance that evening. Which it didn't. Oh, that and the singed mechanical daggit licking him in the face. With his tongue shorting out. "Pleathe?" * * * * * * "STOP!!!! STOP YOU MANIAC!!!!!!!!!!!!" Boomer screamed, as Hummer tried to do just that. They were sailing towards a once-open, and now closed door, and it was at this point that Hummer had discovered one slight, ever-so-easy to overlook teeny-weeny its speeding up in... self-satisfaction. Hmm. Didn't notice that before. "Will she fly?" he asked simply. After all, there was still the matter that Apollo and he had squeezed into a single viper to escape the pyroclastic flow after Apollo's ship was destroyed in a less than stellar landing. Well, okay, maybe he had no instrumentation and only half of his landing gear, but after all, he was Captain Apollo, strike captain of the Battlestar Galactica. Starbuck simply expected more of him than that. He smiled at Lucifer as he exhaled a perfect smoke ring above his head. Lucifer admired the concentric pattern above his head. For a moment he wished he had the ability to share a fumarello with Starbuck. Here they were, two gamblers vying for the ultimate prize. For Starbuck it was freedom. For Lucifer it was information. "Yes, I believe it is perfectly operational." He turned up his cards to show Starbuck his hand. "Hmm. Nice hand, Lucifer. So, what are the chances of throwing in the viper ifs speeding up in... self-satisfaction. Hmm. Didn't notice that before. "Will she fly?" he asked simply. After all, there was still the matter that Apollo and he had squeezed into a single viper to escape the pyroclastic flow after Apollo's ship was destroyed in a less than stellar landing. Well, okay, maybe he had no instrumentation and only half of his landing gear, but after all, he was Captain Apollo, strike captain of the Battlestar Galactica. Starbuck simply expected more of him than that. He smiled at Lucifer as he exhaled a perfect smoke ring above his head. Lucifer admired the concentric pattern above his head. For a moment he wished he had the ability to share a fumarello with Starbuck. Here they were, two gamblers vying for the ultimate prize. For Starbuck it was freedom. For Lucifer it was information. "Yes, I believe it is perfectly operational." He turned up his cards to show Starbuck his hand. "Hmm. Nice hand, Lucifer. So, what are the chances of throwing in the viper ifsy-bitsy little oversight in the design of his vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside. Something just about anyone might have overlooked. Really. Brakes. CARSHSMASHCRUNCHWHOPPPPSCREEEEEEEEEEECHHHKABLOWWIE!!! "Boomer?" wheezed Hummer. "Yeah?" "I just discovered something about this door." "Uhhh?" "It's hard!" "No mong..." CLANG!!!!!!!!!! "...mega brain!" Thud. "The ocean was like so much softer, Dude." Groan. * * * * * * "We still have the power you know." The young priestess suddenly whispered to the others. "What power? What are you talking about? And what the frack is your name?" Sheba asked her, suddenly aware that no one knew the young troublemaker's name. For someone with so many lines, surely she should have one. "Myrt the flirt. The power to make Starbuck dance. Apollo too for that matter. T we get out of here?" Starbuck turned up his own cards to display a perfect pyramid. Lucifer could not believe it. He must have made a miscalculation. Perhaps he still did not understand luck. "The odds would be 83.5995887 to 1," he replied. "Unless..." Starbuck raised his eyebrows at the computer with personality as he raked in his winnings. "Unless what?" "Tell me why you are so lucky, Lieutenant. I have made a study of luck since I met you last; mostly with Baltar since luck seems to be linked closely with human superstition and he is the only human in proximity." "And what have you surmised?" Starbuck asked curiously. It amused him that Lucifer was so perplexed by his good fortune. "Baltar is not lucky when is comes to his goal of annihilating his brothers. However, considering his many failures and the fact that the Imperious Leader has not decapitated him yet, he does have luck." "That sounds more like circumstance than luck. Don't you worry, Baltar will get we get out of here?" Starbuck turned up his own cards to display a perfect pyramid. Lucifer could not believe it. He must have made a miscalculation. Perhaps he still did not understand luck. "The odds would be 83.5995887 to 1," he replied. "Unless..." Starbuck raised his eyebrows at the computer with personality as he raked in his winnings. "Unless what?" "Tell me why you are so lucky, Lieutenant. I have made a study of luck since I met you last; mostly with Baltar since luck seems to be linked closely with human superstition and he is the only human in proximity." "And what have you surmised?" Starbuck asked curiously. It amused him that Lucifer was so perplexed by his good fortune. "Baltar is not lucky when is comes to his goal of annihilating his brothers. However, considering his many failures and the fact that the Imperious Leader has not decapitated him yet, he does have luck." "That sounds more like circumstance than luck. Don't you worry, Baltar will gethey both still have the cranial implants insitu." "Don't you think we have more important things to do than watch Starbuck dance?" Vela asked. Not that she wouldn't mind him circling a dance floor again, and peeling off a couple layers of clothes. Oh, the good old Chrons! "Uh, well... not really. We can't figure out a way to get into that locked room and save Boxey, Apollo is still reading over the Prisoner's script, and Starbuck... well, we don't really know what he's up to, but I don't like the idea of that Upper Class Colonial Standardish broad eying him up. He's mine you know." She smiled pleasantly, though her eyeballs seemed to roll in a complete revolution before settling back in place with a slight shake, as though they belonged in a slot machine in Blip's arcade. "She has a point." Siress Belloby added. "Let's take a looksee, and see what kind of range we can get with this baby." She pulled her crystal ball and the remote mind control out of her purse. She peere exactly what he has coming to him." Starbuck eyes had narrowed and he looked very intent. Then he began shuffling the cards and his easy-going demeanor returned quickly. "Well, Lieutenant, a viper in trade for an explanation; it sounds like a good deal to me." Lucifer followed Starbuck's hands as he manipulated the cards dexterously. "You wouldn't be much of a used hover-mobile salesman, Lucifer, I'm definitely getting the better part of this deal." Starbuck grinned at him. He tried to imagine Lucifer in his shiny gold cape with his flashing head as he perambulated around a parking lot attempting to convince a likely sucker of a purchase. "That depends on whether you win the game. If you don't, this side bet will be exclusively beneficial to me." Lucifer replied. Again, his lights speeded up as he assessed Starbuck smugly. Starbuck chuckled. "All right. The first thing you need to know about luck is that it is often about more than just chance." His eyes gleamed as he lean exactly what he has coming to him." Starbuck eyes had narrowed and he looked very intent. Then he began shuffling the cards and his easy-going demeanor returned quickly. "Well, Lieutenant, a viper in trade for an explanation; it sounds like a good deal to me." Lucifer followed Starbuck's hands as he manipulated the cards dexterously. "You wouldn't be much of a used hover-mobile salesman, Lucifer, I'm definitely getting the better part of this deal." Starbuck grinned at him. He tried to imagine Lucifer in his shiny gold cape with his flashing head as he perambulated around a parking lot attempting to convince a likely sucker of a purchase. "That depends on whether you win the game. If you don't, this side bet will be exclusively beneficial to me." Lucifer replied. Again, his lights speeded up as he assessed Starbuck smugly. Starbuck chuckled. "All right. The first thing you need to know about luck is that it is often about more than just chance." His eyes gleamed as he leand into the crystal ball, only to see that things had changed drastically in the world of Starbuck... * * * * * * "Aaarrrrggghhh!" Starbuck screamed as the hideous mutant that had been the luscious Mrs. Peel approached him, arms reaching out for him. He stumbled backwards, his body moving slowly and woodenly. What was wrong with him? He threw the glass of bubbling wine to the ground, breaking it into thousands of shards. It must be something in the alcohol. They had drugged him. There was no way in Hades... oh, bad choice of words, Bucko... there was no possible way that the gorgeous woman who had stood before him only moments before could have changed into this vile, despicable, grotesque... creature! "Come here, lover," the horrible creature purred to him. "I'm feeling kinda... horny." "Lords of Kobol, but you make Korax look cute!' rasped Starbuck. "Hey, watch it!" came a voice from off-camera. "Two-eyes!" Starbuck shook his head in horror as the Ped conspiratorially across the table at Lucifer. "Some people think either you're born with it or you're not, but I don't believe that. Usually, you just make your own luck." Starbuck tapped his fumarello against the side of the table and the ash fell to the floor. "Really, it would be much easier to understand if you would allow me to show you." Lucifer monitored Starbuck's vital functions. No changes. Lucifer suspected he was up to something but would have to `play out his hand', as Starbuck would say. "How do you intend to illustrate?" he asked. Starbuck smiled at him warmly. "Well, Pal, one hand, sudden death. All the coins on the table. You haven't seen a single card yet. Sometimes luck is about being willing to take a risk. Do you have the nerve, Lucy?" He clamped his fumarello between his teeth and continued shuffling the deck. Lucifer was aware he was being baited, but he was also being challenged. He hated to back down from a challenge. After all, just look how far he haded conspiratorially across the table at Lucifer. "Some people think either you're born with it or you're not, but I don't believe that. Usually, you just make your own luck." Starbuck tapped his fumarello against the side of the table and the ash fell to the floor. "Really, it would be much easier to understand if you would allow me to show you." Lucifer monitored Starbuck's vital functions. No changes. Lucifer suspected he was up to something but would have to `play out his hand', as Starbuck would say. "How do you intend to illustrate?" he asked. Starbuck smiled at him warmly. "Well, Pal, one hand, sudden death. All the coins on the table. You haven't seen a single card yet. Sometimes luck is about being willing to take a risk. Do you have the nerve, Lucy?" He clamped his fumarello between his teeth and continued shuffling the deck. Lucifer was aware he was being baited, but he was also being challenged. He hated to back down from a challenge. After all, just look how far he hadeel- creature moved closer to him. He tripped over his feet, falling backwards onto the ground. His eyes were drawn to the horrible horn sticking out of its forehead. It could gouge a warrior to death! "Well, then, I'll come to you." The creature whispered sensuously as Mrs. Peel's body, beneath the horrific head, strutted towards him, her body oozing sexuality. Starbuck tried to say something, but he had no control of his body. He tried to scramble backwards, but instead he lay there like a sacrificial bovine. No matter how hard he tried to move his frozen muscles, they seemed paralyzed by the drug. Lords, he couldn't even close his eyes! Dibley laughed as he watched. "Yer truly helpless, lad. `Fraid she can do what she wants wi' ya, mate. It's the drink, ya see. Controls yer mind. Muvver always warned me not to take too much of the drink." Starbuck watched in utter revulsion as the creature straddled his body. She leaned down over him and licked him up the s come with Baltar. He transformed him from a sniveling slave about to be executed to the self-proclaimed demi-God that he was now. Of course, Baltar only thought he was in charge. The truth was quite different. "You will find that for a cybernetic being I have an abundant supply of `nerve', Starbuck." Hey, if Starbuck could call him `Lucy', he could certainly drop using his rank. "I accept. One hand decides the winner." He pushed his remaining coins into the middle of the table. "However, I would like to cut the cards." "I wouldn't have it any other way, Bub," Starbuck smirked at him as he added his entire pot to Lucifer's pile and then put the deck down closer to him. Lucifer cut the cards, wishing he could handle them with as much panache as the Lieutenant. Starbuck dealt them their cards face up. "Now luck can also be about paying attention to the situation and planning around it to the best of your ability. Sometimes you have to just wait for an opportunity to use to your advantage." ide of his face, pausing a moment to stick her tongue in his ear and thoroughly clean out his earwax, previously mentioned in Chronicle 31. Lords, he was about to be... The bizarre nature of the situation was almost too much to bear! His body twitched suddenly. All of it, you understand. Abruptly, he needed to dance!! * * * * * * "Aren't you done yet?" Iblis asked, as he stood arms akimbo watching Apollo read the script. "I think I met Rover." Apollo noted, flipping through the pages. "But why are Rover and Mother in the same script? Is this some kind of crossover..." "Of course, you did." Iblis commented. "And never mind about the other. We'll leave the crossover where it was intended to be. Women's lingerie." "Ohhh, is Sheba here?" "I see you've been hanging around Starbuck too long." "I'll have you know, Starbuck isn't the only one sexy enough to persue an energetic love life. I'm thinking about redefining my character. Captain Apollo, la come with Baltar. He transformed him from a sniveling slave about to be executed to the self-proclaimed demi-God that he was now. Of course, Baltar only thought he was in charge. The truth was quite different. "You will find that for a cybernetic being I have an abundant supply of `nerve', Starbuck." Hey, if Starbuck could call him `Lucy', he could certainly drop using his rank. "I accept. One hand decides the winner." He pushed his remaining coins into the middle of the table. "However, I would like to cut the cards." "I wouldn't have it any other way, Bub," Starbuck smirked at him as he added his entire pot to Lucifer's pile and then put the deck down closer to him. Lucifer cut the cards, wishing he could handle them with as much panache as the Lieutenant. Starbuck dealt them their cards face up. "Now luck can also be about paying attention to the situation and planning around it to the best of your ability. Sometimes you have to just wait for an opportunity to use to your advantage." Lucifer suddenly wondered if this was what the sudden death hand was about as he watched Starbuck deal two more cards. His lights again flashed impressively as he realized he had a half pyramid already and Starbuck had nothing. He calculated the odds again. Perhaps as his opponent was imparting the lessons of luck, they were in fact being absorbed into his soul. After all, it could only be in his soul where he could store such a human characteristic. He realized he would have to research the programming of a `chuckle' into his vocal functions. How he would love to be capable of a chuckle at this moment. Not a sneering, deprecating chuckle like Baltar's, but one of joy and humor, like Starbuck's. "Looking good, Lucy," Starbuck admired the cards with a smile. "It looks like you're starting to catch on to the `luck' concept, eh?" "Perhaps, Starbuck." Starbuck dealt two more cards. Lucifer just about burst his bulb. He had three quarters of a pyramid. Starbuck had... nothing. "It does dy-killer. Maybe I'll need a new name. Like...Shyler? Hhmm.... Oh, by the way, which part does Boxey play?" Apollo asked curiously, licking his fingers and smoothing his eyebrows into place. "Oh, well, he had a different script altogether. The Fire in Space episode." Iblis snorted. "Moore, again." "Hmm. That was a rough one for Boxey. His Grandfather..." "Oh, shut up. I saw it. That's not why we're here, to take a trip down bloody memory lane. I've brought you here to destroy you. BWAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" "Why?" Apollo asked in morbid fascination. "Well, the place I usually go was already booked." Iblis shrugged. "Tara's flat is being redecorated, and..." "That's NOT what I meant." Apollo sneered. "I mean why do villians always say 'BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!' at this point in the action?" "Uh...well, it's kind of a tradition. Goes all the way back to Great-great-great-great-great-uncle Vlad, and the..." "Iblis, you are Lucifer suddenly wondered if this was what the sudden death hand was about as he watched Starbuck deal two more cards. His lights again flashed impressively as he realized he had a half pyramid already and Starbuck had nothing. He calculated the odds again. Perhaps as his opponent was imparting the lessons of luck, they were in fact being absorbed into his soul. After all, it could only be in his soul where he could store such a human characteristic. He realized he would have to research the programming of a `chuckle' into his vocal functions. How he would love to be capable of a chuckle at this moment. Not a sneering, deprecating chuckle like Baltar's, but one of joy and humor, like Starbuck's. "Looking good, Lucy," Starbuck admired the cards with a smile. "It looks like you're starting to catch on to the `luck' concept, eh?" "Perhaps, Starbuck." Starbuck dealt two more cards. Lucifer just about burst his bulb. He had three quarters of a pyramid. Starbuck had... nothing. "It does indeed look like luck has been incorporated into my vital functions. You are an excellent instructor, Starbuck." He bowed to his opponent politely. The Lieutenant remained calm as always. "One last theory on luck, chum. Our people often say `Luck is like a lady." He took another drag from the well-chewed end of his fumarello. He dealt a card to Lucifer. "A full pyramid, bulb-head. Not bad." "How is luck like a lady?" Lucifer asked. He wished to extend this exchange as long as possible. He suspected Starbuck's amiable mood might change when he started relinquishing the military information that would deliver the fleet. Lucifer could see himself now standing before the Imperious Leader being decorated as the deliverer of the human vermin. "Well, Lucy, sometimes the lady loves you," he indicated Lucifer's perfect pyramid. He then dealt himself a final card. Capstone. "And sometimes she drops you like a bad cubit, Pal." Starbuck leaned back in his seat grinning smugly at his opponent.one sick puppy. You know that?" Iblis smiled. "I know." He stuck out his tongue at the Captain. "Iblis, I've had enough of this! It's time to get serious and discuss terms under which... " Apollo stopped his words in horror, as his body was swept up in an incredible urge to dance... badly. * * * * * * "Thankth." Blip told whoever had knocked the humungous machine off of him and onto the annoying, smouldering, slightly crisp, formerly orange daggit that had been salivating all over him. It would salivate no longer. Quite a trick for something that was mechanized really. Good quality workmanship. It was well and truly squashed. Not a servo circuit firing. Not a diode relaying. Not a Wrrrrrrrbbbbbiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnggggggggggg to be heard. It was gone to the great mechanical daggit heaven in the sky. Deader than a doornail. More dead than Sagan. Gonzo. Belly up. Lifeless. Bloodless. Not existing. Blooey. Offed. Breathless. Rubbed out. Practically buried. Cadaindeed look like luck has been incorporated into my vital functions. You are an excellent instructor, Starbuck." He bowed to his opponent politely. The Lieutenant remained calm as always. "One last theory on luck, chum. Our people often say `Luck is like a lady." He took another drag from the well-chewed end of his fumarello. He dealt a card to Lucifer. "A full pyramid, bulb-head. Not bad." "How is luck like a lady?" Lucifer asked. He wished to extend this exchange as long as possible. He suspected Starbuck's amiable mood might change when he started relinquishing the military information that would deliver the fleet. Lucifer could see himself now standing before the Imperious Leader being decorated as the deliverer of the human vermin. "Well, Lucy, sometimes the lady loves you," he indicated Lucifer's perfect pyramid. He then dealt himself a final card. Capstone. "And sometimes she drops you like a bad cubit, Pal." Starbuck leaned back in his seat grinning smugly at his opponent. "So, Lucy, how soon can we get those vipers ready for launching?" ======= And now, the latest episode you haven't read yet of what is now going to happen next ahead, of "The Starbuck Chronicles": "Well," said Lucifer, his electronic brain trying to make sense of this turn of events, "it should not take long. I can have you rViper checked out at once." "Great idea, Lucy," said Starbuck. "Uh, in fact," said the Lieutenant, leaning close, dropping his voice, and turning on the Starbuck smile, "you could come with us, if you'd like." "I?" said Lucifer, again taken off guard. "I? Go with you, back to the Galactica?" "Uh huh." "And why should I possibly want to do such a thing?" asked the IL Cylon, whose electronic brain was furiously trying to compute why he would want to do such a thing. "After all, I am a loyal Cylon." "Because I like you?" Lucifer just stared at him. "Because you're the best Pyramid partner I've had since the Holocaust?" Morverous even. Mortified. Defunct. Extinct. Checked out. Stiff. Cold, even for a cybernetic life form. Cut off. Deceased. Done for. Expired. Inanimate. Liquidated. Departed. No more. Passed away. Erased. Perished. Reposing. Snuffed out. Washed up. Got it?????????????????? De rigor. And then, suddenly... ***************** WHAT happened suddenly? WILL Apollo and Starbuck dance together once more? HOW can 'Buckers escape from Mrs. Peel? WHAT fiendish plot has she rigged up? WILL Myrtle really turn out to be Myrtle's name? WILL Igraine succeed in suing everyone? WILL she end up taking after her grand...never mind. WHO helped Blip? WILL the script Apollo was reading turn out to be another awful crossover? CAN Boomer and Hummer recover in time to save Boxey from Borax? WILL Vela and Sheba ever reconcile to having had the same man? IS the river still Stygian? WILL Eric ever post a comment on the Chrons? WHERE is Cassie right now? For that matter...I mean, FOR that matter, "So, Lucy, how soon can we get those vipers ready for launching?" ======= And now, the latest episode you haven't read yet of what is now going to happen next ahead, of "The Starbuck Chronicles": "Well," said Lucifer, his electronic brain trying to make sense of this turn of events, "it should not take long. I can have you rViper checked out at once." "Great idea, Lucy," said Starbuck. "Uh, in fact," said the Lieutenant, leaning close, dropping his voice, and turning on the Starbuck smile, "you could come with us, if you'd like." "I?" said Lucifer, again taken off guard. "I? Go with you, back to the Galactica?" "Uh huh." "And why should I possibly want to do such a thing?" asked the IL Cylon, whose electronic brain was furiously trying to compute why he would want to do such a thing. "After all, I am a loyal Cylon." "Because I like you?" Lucifer just stared at him. "Because you're the best Pyramid partner I've had since the Holocaust?" More silence. "Because your lights are really really cute?" Lucifer shook his head, but still said nothing. "Because when Baltar finds out you told me about my Viper being operational, he'll rip all your diodes out, and tap dance on your sensors?" "How soon can you be ready to go, Lieutenant?" ******** "Lucifer? Where is Lucifer?" asked Baltar, pacing back and forth across the floor of his throne room. "Why doesn't he report?" "I do not know," droned a Centurion. "I wasn't asking you, crome dome!" snapped Baltar. He looked at his chrono. The Imperious Leader had been informed of the capture of the Colonials, and would be calling back in twenty centons for an update. Baltar was only thankful it wasn't sooner. He was also thankful that Imperious Leader was such a cheapskate. In twenty centons, the weekend long- distance rates kicked in. "By your command, I am Flight Leader Stercuscaput. I am not Chrome..." "Shut up!" bellowed Baltar. "By your where is Lucifer, Baltar, et al? For the answers to these, and other orthostratigraphic non- petroliferous questions, tune in to the next gastroenterologically ennervating episode of THE STARBUCK CHRONICLES. Be here, when we'll hear Ronald D. Moore say... "Well imagine that!" (and, if you're really good, like actually posting responses to the loop!!!!!!!! doing 1000 one-handed push-ups, painting Lisa's living room, retiling Lisa's bathroom, discovering an environmentally-friendly alternative to disposable diapers without losing any convenience factors*, oh, and creating a mouse that can withstand repetitive pounding on the computer desk without system breakdown, then, and only then ), you might hear Blip say, "It'th alive! Again!!!!!!" *Try rabbit or chamois hides, Zaz. Worked for cavemen. Forget the previous that was previous to this previous, okay? Wrong button! The Godfather Goes On A Diet will not be seen at this time, in order that we may present the following e silence. "Because your lights are really really cute?" Lucifer shook his head, but still said nothing. "Because when Baltar finds out you told me about my Viper being operational, he'll rip all your diodes out, and tap dance on your sensors?" "How soon can you be ready to go, Lieutenant?" ******** "Lucifer? Where is Lucifer?" asked Baltar, pacing back and forth across the floor of his throne room. "Why doesn't he report?" "I do not know," droned a Centurion. "I wasn't asking you, crome dome!" snapped Baltar. He looked at his chrono. The Imperious Leader had been informed of the capture of the Colonials, and would be calling back in twenty centons for an update. Baltar was only thankful it wasn't sooner. He was also thankful that Imperious Leader was such a cheapskate. In twenty centons, the weekend long- distance rates kicked in. "By your command, I am Flight Leader Stercuscaput. I am not Chrome..." "Shut up!" bellowed Baltar. "By your command," said the Centurion. "But you don't need to be so testy about it! Sheesh!" ******* "This way," said Lucifer, peering around the corner of one long corridor. He motioned with one hand, and the rest followed him. As they progressed, he was amazed they had gotten this far. The odds were astronomically against it. Odds. hhmm.... maybe it was their ability to both calculate and overcome odds that made Humans such intractable foes? Time and again, the Empire should have had them defeated, and then... "What are you staring at, huh?" asked Boomer, looking back at Lucifer. Suddenly, the lights went out, plunging them all into a complete and total and thoroughly thorough darkness. "Same thing you are," replied Lucifer. ********* Tune in next time, for the next indefatiguably disenteric episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Be here, when we'll hear Belloby say, "Isn't this getting a little out of hand?" Part 37 "Hey, didn't we do thiheavy-duty program. ********* When last we looked in upon our heroes, et al, Apollo, after a heated confrontation with the vile, disgusting, evil, horrific, Satanic, hellish, and really really bad Count Iblis, was suddenly seized by an uncontrollable desire to begin dancing. Badly. Elsewhere, over on Stage 18 I think, Starbuck was also suddenly unable to stop himself from doing the same thing. Also, alas, badly, although it did, momentarily at least, save him from the clutches, if not the earwash, of the hideous being that the formerly lucious lust object, Mrs. Peel, accompanying Iblis' somewhat less-known brother, Dibley, had become. This was after Apollo discovered that Boxey had the wrong script, and indeed his own was, inexplicably I might add, pairing Rover with Mother. Elsewhere, Blip had been nearly crushed (to death) by a toppled video game machine, which chose that very moment to start paying off. Moments before his horrific demise, however, something, to wit the vorcommand," said the Centurion. "But you don't need to be so testy about it! Sheesh!" ******* "This way," said Lucifer, peering around the corner of one long corridor. He motioned with one hand, and the rest followed him. As they progressed, he was amazed they had gotten this far. The odds were astronomically against it. Odds. hhmm.... maybe it was their ability to both calculate and overcome odds that made Humans such intractable foes? Time and again, the Empire should have had them defeated, and then... "What are you staring at, huh?" asked Boomer, looking back at Lucifer. Suddenly, the lights went out, plunging them all into a complete and total and thoroughly thorough darkness. "Same thing you are," replied Lucifer. ********* Tune in next time, for the next indefatiguably disenteric episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Be here, when we'll hear Belloby say, "Isn't this getting a little out of hand?" Part 37 "Hey, didn't we do this scene already?" Boomer asked. "The classics are timeless," Apollo replied. He had a good sleep while in the brig and was starting to feel a bit more like his old self. He hadn't burst into tears or had a flashback for centars now. All he could see after the main lights went out was the slight flickering of Lucifer's lights. "Where's Starbuck?" "O'er here," came a muted reply in the general direction of Lucifer. They heard a loud, hollow clonking sound. "Really, Starbuck, I know you said you thought my lights were cute, but this is going too far." The cybernetic being protested. "As units we are incompatible." Apollo and Boomer looked on as a red glow started to appear in what would be the equivalent of Lucifer's cheeks. Cylons blushed?? Wait a centon, why was the cylon blushing? "Starbuck, what the frack are you doing to Lucifer?" Apollo demanded. Honestly, the man was like a daggit in heat. "Just a centon," the lieutenant's muffled voice came. Another hollow tex-spanning sci-fi, super- duper, el-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside came crashing through, carrying Boomer and Hummer, knocking the rather heavy machine off of him, saving his life. It was also at this point (parenthetically), that Muffit, showing his true devotion to Humanity, licked and slobbered the prostrate Blip into a partial recovery, the heroic daggit! Sadly, they were too late to save Boxey from being seized by the fake Boomer, in reality Borax the shape- shifting Ziklagi extra (he's got clorox bottles on his feet, in case you see him, for a clean get-a-way, btw), all the while Igraine, one of Apollo's unexpected children by Vela, was both threatening to sue for more lines, and commenting on her Auntie Athena's....architecture. And, behind all of this, Siress Belloby, Sheba, and a priestess named Myrtle are watching it all, plotting Lords of Kobol knows what further ickiness. Okay, ready? Good, 'cause I ain't gons scene already?" Boomer asked. "The classics are timeless," Apollo replied. He had a good sleep while in the brig and was starting to feel a bit more like his old self. He hadn't burst into tears or had a flashback for centars now. All he could see after the main lights went out was the slight flickering of Lucifer's lights. "Where's Starbuck?" "O'er here," came a muted reply in the general direction of Lucifer. They heard a loud, hollow clonking sound. "Really, Starbuck, I know you said you thought my lights were cute, but this is going too far." The cybernetic being protested. "As units we are incompatible." Apollo and Boomer looked on as a red glow started to appear in what would be the equivalent of Lucifer's cheeks. Cylons blushed?? Wait a centon, why was the cylon blushing? "Starbuck, what the frack are you doing to Lucifer?" Apollo demanded. Honestly, the man was like a daggit in heat. "Just a centon," the lieutenant's muffled voice came. Another hollow clonk. "Oww! Why the frack do you wear a cape if you're a machine?" "Starbuck!!!" Apollo and Boomer yelled. Suddenly, they heard a click and a bright light emitted from Lucifer's bulb shaped head which illuminated Starbuck. The lieutenant was peeking out from the back of the walking computer's gold cape and holding a small beaded chain that was attached to the side of Lucifer's neck. "Lucy, with your head so bright, won't you guide our way tonight?" A comm unit suddenly came to life behind them and the voice of Siress Belloby blared out, "Isn't this getting a little out of hand?" "Indeed," spoke a penetrating voice from metrons away. Baltar walked out of the shadows flanked by his cylon honour guard. "Lieutenant Starbuck, I see it did not take you long to corrupt Lucifer. Stercuscaput, take them. I believe you have a date with our torture chamber, Starbuck. I do hate to break appointments." He laughed evilly. "By your command." The centurions surrounded the warriors and na repeat it. God knows, replied the Butler Guy, holding up a small sign, as always. "Hhmm..... Do you think Moore might have a slot for me in his new show?" asked the IL Series Cylon, somewhat dreamily. "I mean if Richard can get cast in it..." I imagine he might. But you might need a refit. "Oh? I suppose it's time. Do you think he'd like a vermouth cassis?" Bleech! "Good!" Zap! Pop! Sizzle! TZzzzzzzzzzzzzzz! Lick. Slobber. "Oh My God!" shouted Blip. "It'th alive!!!!!!!!!! Again!!!!!" "Let me go!" shouted Boxey, and the heavily be-clorox bottled Borax tried to spirit him away. "Why?" replied the alien shape shifter. "Why should I possibly do that?" "Uuhh..'cause?" " 'cause why?" asked Borax, stopping in his bleachy tracks. Damn bottles were a bit tight around the shins. "Because I'm the heroic little Human boy who needs to be rescued, I've lost my daggit which will generate sympathy from the audience, andclonk. "Oww! Why the frack do you wear a cape if you're a machine?" "Starbuck!!!" Apollo and Boomer yelled. Suddenly, they heard a click and a bright light emitted from Lucifer's bulb shaped head which illuminated Starbuck. The lieutenant was peeking out from the back of the walking computer's gold cape and holding a small beaded chain that was attached to the side of Lucifer's neck. "Lucy, with your head so bright, won't you guide our way tonight?" A comm unit suddenly came to life behind them and the voice of Siress Belloby blared out, "Isn't this getting a little out of hand?" "Indeed," spoke a penetrating voice from metrons away. Baltar walked out of the shadows flanked by his cylon honour guard. "Lieutenant Starbuck, I see it did not take you long to corrupt Lucifer. Stercuscaput, take them. I believe you have a date with our torture chamber, Starbuck. I do hate to break appointments." He laughed evilly. "By your command." The centurions surrounded the warriors and Lucifer. Stercuscaput personally grabbed Starbuck and pulled him towards the brig. Apollo heard him exclaim as he was dragged out of sight, "Can we swing by the turboflush first, chromedome, I think I'm having a disenteric episode." ======= And now, the next gastrically stimulating episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". ======= "NOT on my deck you don't!" bellowed Baltar. "I just had this tub cleaned!" "Well...," began Boomer. "Yeah, and guess who had to do all the scrubbing?" asked Stercuscaput mournfully. "Eh? Guess!" "What are you bellyaching about?" asked Baltar. "And squeezing," wheezed Starbuck. "So many decks," droned Stercuscaput, "so little time." "Look, didn't I let you have some extra furlon afterwards?" sighed Baltar. "Oh sure. Four extra centars on Opelon, getting all my diodes replaced by a crew of mis-programmed auric miners, when all I was trying to do was get an extra can of hot wax, and some shampoo for your rug." "StrLucifer. Stercuscaput personally grabbed Starbuck and pulled him towards the brig. Apollo heard him exclaim as he was dragged out of sight, "Can we swing by the turboflush first, chromedome, I think I'm having a disenteric episode." ======= And now, the next gastrically stimulating episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". ======= "NOT on my deck you don't!" bellowed Baltar. "I just had this tub cleaned!" "Well...," began Boomer. "Yeah, and guess who had to do all the scrubbing?" asked Stercuscaput mournfully. "Eh? Guess!" "What are you bellyaching about?" asked Baltar. "And squeezing," wheezed Starbuck. "So many decks," droned Stercuscaput, "so little time." "Look, didn't I let you have some extra furlon afterwards?" sighed Baltar. "Oh sure. Four extra centars on Opelon, getting all my diodes replaced by a crew of mis-programmed auric miners, when all I was trying to do was get an extra can of hot wax, and some shampoo for your rug." "Str you're the icky mean alien baddy." "MMMmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm....not good enough," replied Borax. "We need more...motivation." "Yeah, good point." Boxey thought a moment. "Umm, because the real Boomer and Hummer will blast you with their lasers when they catch up with you? Not to mention what Boomer's going to do when he gets a load of those boots." "Well, better," said Borax, scratching his chin, "but that's a given. Besides, I have lots of concealed weapons. I can even shape shift into something that can refract energy beams." He wavered, blurred, and settled into the form of a tall man in ablue suit, with a thick shock of black hair. "Try again, Box-o." "Well, I didn't want to mention this, but..." "Yeah?" "But Siress Belloby and the ladies are behind that door, right behind you. And you know how she is!" "AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" "Cool," said Myrtle. "I like it." "Hey, folks," said Cassie. "I miss anyerc...!" "And what happens to me? They put the new diodes in all backwards on my left side," snarled the Flight Leader. "Lords, that's tragic," gurgled Starbuck, feeling sick. "And my right side?" continued the lugubrious robot, "they put those in backwards, too. I've asked Baltar to do something about it, but will he? Noooooooooooooooooooo. he's always out, looking for the Galactica, or talking with Imperious Leader, but poor old Stercuscaput can just go overload all his servos as far as the rest of them are concerned." "Oh Lords, please," rasped Baltar, scratching his scalp under the toupee. He noticed Boomer watching, and withdrew his hand quickly. The dark-skinned Warrior stifled a laugh. "I mean, is it MY fault I can only taxi fighters on the hangar deck now?" He looked at them all, his red scanner eye seeming to narrow as he did so. "Have any of you ever tried to launch a fighter backwards? Hhmm...? Hhmm????????????????" "Not recently," wheezed Starbuck, erc...!" "And what happens to me? They put the new diodes in all backwards on my left side," snarled the Flight Leader. "Lords, that's tragic," gurgled Starbuck, feeling sick. "And my right side?" continued the lugubrious robot, "they put those in backwards, too. I've asked Baltar to do something about it, but will he? Noooooooooooooooooooo. he's always out, looking for the Galactica, or talking with Imperious Leader, but poor old Stercuscaput can just go overload all his servos as far as the rest of them are concerned." "Oh Lords, please," rasped Baltar, scratching his scalp under the toupee. He noticed Boomer watching, and withdrew his hand quickly. The dark-skinned Warrior stifled a laugh. "I mean, is it MY fault I can only taxi fighters on the hangar deck now?" He looked at them all, his red scanner eye seeming to narrow as he did so. "Have any of you ever tried to launch a fighter backwards? Hhmm...? Hhmm????????????????" "Not recently," wheezed Starbuck, thing?" "Where have you been for all these eps?" asked Sheba. "Don't blame me, Sheeb. It's that writer's fault. I told him he could have a wild night with me, IF I got some screen time." Myrtle laughed. Borax screamed again. "I think we're close. Okay, let's go!" said Belloby, shoving the door open and bursting through into the other room. "Boomer! What are you doing with those bleach bottles on your feet. There's a dress code in effect here, you know!" "Siress Belloby! Sheba! Cassiopeia! Uh... Help! He's not Boomer. He's a Shapeshifting, shifty-eyed, shat of an alien!" Boxey screamed, trying to free himself from Borax's grasp. "He's very clean for a shifty-eyed, Shapeshifting shat, isn't he?" Cassie commented. "And the floor is immaculate." Vela added, as she saw her image reflected back at her. She pulled out her hair pick and started preening, just in case the scene where they rescued Apollo was soon. "What?" Myrtle asked, her eyes sti"but I'm gonna launch something pretty soon, if you don't..." "And just WHAT is going on here?" boomed a voice. They all turned, and there stood Imperious Leader, hands on hips, glaring at them. "Can I please get my diodes replaced, Your Impiness?" asked Stercuscaput. "I...I..." stuttered Baltar, but the Leader cut him off. "Shut up, Baltar." "Yes, Your Eminence." "And straighten that damned rug, will you?" "Yes, Eminence." "Reminds me of Shatner on a bad day." "Uuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhgggggh!" said Starbuck. "OH GROSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" said everyone at once. Stercuscaput dropped the Colonial Warrior, and put his end effecters squaurly on his pelvic servomotor housings. "See? I tell ya, I just get no respect! Just no..." "OH SHUT UP!!!!!!!!" bellowed another voice. They all turned, and Belloby stormed into the corridor. "Uh, Belloby..." stammered Imperious Leader. "Shut up, Lizard Lips!" snarled Belloby, looking at the dell trained on Belloby's crystal ball. A lascivious grin spread across her fine features as she watched Starbuck start to dance... not too badly. After all, Sen, Chameleon is the man's father. "Switch channels, I wanna see how Apollo is doing." Sheba told her as she nudged in beside her. "Switch channels on a crystal ball?" Boxey asked, distracted by the new technology. "Of course." Belloby told him. "This is not your run-of- the-mill crystal ball, my boy." "Kind of like the ones in Lord Of The Rings?" "Yeah. Autographed, too. With these babies, not only can I see into the future, I can see Apollo and Starbuck dancing." "Dad doesn't dance." Boxey informed them. "Oh, we know, Boxey. Believe you me, we know." Sheba shook her head as she gazed into the crystal ball... "Although I hear Grandpa used to cut a rug pretty good, once upon a time..." * * * * * Apollo's left shoulder began twitching up and down in time to the... oh, frack, we forgot the m"but I'm gonna launch something pretty soon, if you don't..." "And just WHAT is going on here?" boomed a voice. They all turned, and there stood Imperious Leader, hands on hips, glaring at them. "Can I please get my diodes replaced, Your Impiness?" asked Stercuscaput. "I...I..." stuttered Baltar, but the Leader cut him off. "Shut up, Baltar." "Yes, Your Eminence." "And straighten that damned rug, will you?" "Yes, Eminence." "Reminds me of Shatner on a bad day." "Uuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhgggggh!" said Starbuck. "OH GROSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" said everyone at once. Stercuscaput dropped the Colonial Warrior, and put his end effecters squaurly on his pelvic servomotor housings. "See? I tell ya, I just get no respect! Just no..." "OH SHUT UP!!!!!!!!" bellowed another voice. They all turned, and Belloby stormed into the corridor. "Uh, Belloby..." stammered Imperious Leader. "Shut up, Lizard Lips!" snarled Belloby, looking at the deck. "Where the Hades is the janitor?" "Baltar?" asked Lucifer. "What?" "Would you really tap dance on my sensors?" "Drugs, man," said Apollo. "S'gotta be drugs...." Suddenly, there was an explosion... Boom. "Oh Lords, now what?" asked Boomer. "Just not my day!" said Baltar. "I should have listened to Mother." "Good thing I kept that can of hot wax," said Stercuscaput. "Anybody got a rag?" ======= Whsat is going on here? WHAT will befall our heroes? What will happen next time? Who is going to write the next episode? For these, as well as other things you probably don't care about, tune in to the next exciting chapter of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Be here next time, when we'll hear Boxey say... "Muffy, what's that smell?" So, some of you thought TSC would never reappear, eh? Well, never fear, our much-abused hero is back! Just accept it! ===== And now, the next utterly wasteful episode of "The Starbuck Chronusic! "No trouble," Iblis declared, being a demon who was very sensitive to the writer's omissions. He pointed a finger to the ridge above him. Five humans appeared from a puff of smoke. They appeared quite stygian in countenance. "How the hell did we get here, Tommy?" "I don't know Dennis, but that river looks... inspiring." "Oh, do shut up and play us a tune." Iblis thundered up at them. "The captain will twitch himself to death if we keep up this charade much longer." Welcome to the grand illusion, come on in and see what's happening, pay the price get your tickets for the show... * * * * * Meanwhile, back in the arcade Blip rolled over to see the humungous, monstrous, incredibly heavy machine that was Cylons-A-Go-Go... I think... start to move. A slight wrrrrrrbbbbiiiinnggg sound came from beneath it. "Lord Thagan, I don't believe it. It'th really alive." Blip muttered in amazement. Abruptly, one of Eric's weather patterns from the latest ck. "Where the Hades is the janitor?" "Baltar?" asked Lucifer. "What?" "Would you really tap dance on my sensors?" "Drugs, man," said Apollo. "S'gotta be drugs...." Suddenly, there was an explosion... Boom. "Oh Lords, now what?" asked Boomer. "Just not my day!" said Baltar. "I should have listened to Mother." "Good thing I kept that can of hot wax," said Stercuscaput. "Anybody got a rag?" ======= Whsat is going on here? WHAT will befall our heroes? What will happen next time? Who is going to write the next episode? For these, as well as other things you probably don't care about, tune in to the next exciting chapter of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Be here next time, when we'll hear Boxey say... "Muffy, what's that smell?" So, some of you thought TSC would never reappear, eh? Well, never fear, our much-abused hero is back! Just accept it! ===== And now, the next utterly wasteful episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". ======= "MY GOD!" bellowed Belloby. "Do you realise what you've done?" "I don't think I need Dr. Salik to explain it to me," wheezed the Viper pilot. he caught a whiff of what he'd just landed in, and made an unpleasant sound. "Please, Starbuck!" begged Baltar. "Ah, the other end," bemoaned Stercuscaput. "I should have known." "Look," said Imperious Leader. "Hey," said Apollo. "C'mon, people," said Boomer. "Uuhrrrruuuhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!" said Starbuck. "Ggllbbggllgl!" "Apollo," asked Baltar, "if I tried to defect back, do you think Adama would still be upset with me?" ====== Somewhere else, that wasn't of course the same place where the other stuff that wasn't happeneing in this place was happeneing, Boxey walked along the corridor, loking for Muffit. He turned a corner, spying the mechanical daggit. Almost as soon as he had done so, his nose spied something else. "Ewww!" "Rowwr! Rowwr!" said Muffit. "MuffiVirtual Episode, Nature's Fury, swept through the arcade. After all, it was getting bored waiting for the latest chapter to be revealed to the expectant and somewhat impatient readers. The cyclone sucked Cylons-a-Go-Go and the daggit up into it and far, far away. Never to be seen against Cyclones are like that you know. "What the frack ith that?" Blip asked, as he looked around his totally destroyed arcade. A house was sitting in the middle of the room. Blip climbed slowly to his feet and limped over. From beneath the house a pair of legs could be seen. Wearing hideous tights and the most sparkly red, high- heeled shoes he had ever seen. And they looked to be just about his size! "Well, fanthy that." * * * * * "I like the way you move, lover." The late Mrs. Peel purred to Starbuck as his body practically vibrated beneath her. Her hideous, deformed head leaned down towards him, but she was having trouble holding on to him, as he began to shake his booty, baby! Shakicles". ======= "MY GOD!" bellowed Belloby. "Do you realise what you've done?" "I don't think I need Dr. Salik to explain it to me," wheezed the Viper pilot. he caught a whiff of what he'd just landed in, and made an unpleasant sound. "Please, Starbuck!" begged Baltar. "Ah, the other end," bemoaned Stercuscaput. "I should have known." "Look," said Imperious Leader. "Hey," said Apollo. "C'mon, people," said Boomer. "Uuhrrrruuuhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!" said Starbuck. "Ggllbbggllgl!" "Apollo," asked Baltar, "if I tried to defect back, do you think Adama would still be upset with me?" ====== Somewhere else, that wasn't of course the same place where the other stuff that wasn't happeneing in this place was happeneing, Boxey walked along the corridor, loking for Muffit. He turned a corner, spying the mechanical daggit. Almost as soon as he had done so, his nose spied something else. "Ewww!" "Rowwr! Rowwr!" said Muffit. "Muffit, what's that smell?" Boxey got closer to the droid. "You didn't forget to have Doctor Wilker replace your lubrication seals again, did you?" "Rouuwr?" "Yes you." "Rrrorrw." "Okay, but you are due for your thousand maxim checkup." "Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" "He he he he he!!!" Boxey sniffed again. "Man, if I didn't know better, I'd say Starbuck was around here somewhere." "Urrrr." ======= "I'll hear nothing of this defection business, baltar!" said Imperious Leader. "You belong to the Empire, Human!" "Uh, Your Eminence, all I really..." "What did you mean, Baltar?" asked Boomer. "Well, actually, I was going to..." "Yes, do tell us, Baltar," said Lucifer, his red scanners oscillating slightly faster. "I..." began the traitorous...well, traitor, when there was a ripping sound, and Belloby shrieked :"What in Kobol are you doing???" "I can't find the mop, and we're short of paper towels," replied Stercuscaput. "Thae, shake, shake. Shake, shake, shake. Shake your booty. Starbuck jumped to his feet, moving his body lithely around his tormentor, just staying out of reach as she tried to enfold him in her arms. All the time he was thinking, Thank the Lords, KC and the Sunshine Band showed up, and not Styx. His body moved closer to the edge of the cliff and he looked down below him while he spun in a tight circle. While a little dizzy, he could still see Apollo gyrating wildly to the Grand Illusion. Yeah, they were a great band, but you just couldn't dance to that felgercarb. "Come over here, lover." Mrs. Peel followed him in frustration. Everybody, get on the floor, let's dance! Don't fight your feelings, give yourself a chance! Shake, shake, shake. Shake, shake, shake. Shake your booty! Shake your booty! Suddenly, a flying horse swooped beneath him. The horse neighed at him. Jump on! "Sorry?" Starbuck asked, looking at the flying equine. Jump on! It neighed agait, what's that smell?" Boxey got closer to the droid. "You didn't forget to have Doctor Wilker replace your lubrication seals again, did you?" "Rouuwr?" "Yes you." "Rrrorrw." "Okay, but you are due for your thousand maxim checkup." "Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" "He he he he he!!!" Boxey sniffed again. "Man, if I didn't know better, I'd say Starbuck was around here somewhere." "Urrrr." ======= "I'll hear nothing of this defection business, baltar!" said Imperious Leader. "You belong to the Empire, Human!" "Uh, Your Eminence, all I really..." "What did you mean, Baltar?" asked Boomer. "Well, actually, I was going to..." "Yes, do tell us, Baltar," said Lucifer, his red scanners oscillating slightly faster. "I..." began the traitorous...well, traitor, when there was a ripping sound, and Belloby shrieked :"What in Kobol are you doing???" "I can't find the mop, and we're short of paper towels," replied Stercuscaput. "That doesn't entitle you to rip my skirt off, Iron Butt!" "Turbo lasers and Solenite my casing pierce might, but words will never hurt me," retorted Stercuscaput, grabbing another handful of Belloby's dress. "Oh no, they'll never hurt me," repeated Stercuscaput. "No, never. No way. Uh uhh. Nada. Never. Just watch me. Watch me. ANYBODY EVER SEE ME CRY???????? HAVE YOU???????? 'cause I don't." "Shouldn't someone find out what that explosion was a while ago?????" said Apollo. "Oh yeah, right," said Imperious Leader. "Lucifer, go find out." "I know what it was," said Stercuscaput. "I already know." "Then why didn't you tell us?" asked several voices. "Nobody asked me," replied the Flight Leader. Silence. "See? Nobody really cared enough to ask me. And after Icleaned up all this..." "Yeah, with my dress," snarled Belloby. "Big deal. A Pierre Cardin knock off. I could get one on Cordugo Pit for half what you paid for that." "Oh Lords!" wailed Baltar. "It doesn't entitle you to rip my skirt off, Iron Butt!" "Turbo lasers and Solenite my casing pierce might, but words will never hurt me," retorted Stercuscaput, grabbing another handful of Belloby's dress. "Oh no, they'll never hurt me," repeated Stercuscaput. "No, never. No way. Uh uhh. Nada. Never. Just watch me. Watch me. ANYBODY EVER SEE ME CRY???????? HAVE YOU???????? 'cause I don't." "Shouldn't someone find out what that explosion was a while ago?????" said Apollo. "Oh yeah, right," said Imperious Leader. "Lucifer, go find out." "I know what it was," said Stercuscaput. "I already know." "Then why didn't you tell us?" asked several voices. "Nobody asked me," replied the Flight Leader. Silence. "See? Nobody really cared enough to ask me. And after Icleaned up all this..." "Yeah, with my dress," snarled Belloby. "Big deal. A Pierre Cardin knock off. I could get one on Cordugo Pit for half what you paid for that." "Oh Lords!" wailed Baltar. "I should have listened. I really..." "But you never asked me about..." "Well, we're asking you now!" said Belloby, Imperious Leader, and maybe Boomer. Not sure about that. "Really?" said Stercuscaput, seeming to brighten. "You're really asking me?" "YES!!!!!!!!!" Boom. "What was that?" asked several voices, as they were once more rocked and jostled. The lights flickered. Starbuck rolled into Apollo, and the two ended up on the deck, as 'Buckers reduced his total body mass once again. Belloby was bellowing about something, Imperious Leader was demanding answers, Imperiously of course, Baltar was heard to say "Mother!", and Lucifer began repeating "Never fear, Lucifer is here, you ninny!" "I knew you didn't really want to know," droned Stercuscaput. ======= WHAT was the boom? What was the second boom? What in Hades Hole is going on? Will Muffit finally get his oil changed? What did Boxey smell? Come to think of it, where are the horney Priestessen. Come on, I'm a flying equs, not a hovercraft. Yes I'm really sentient, it's YOU that's kinda daft! I don't have all day. Get your astrum in gear, and dance over here! "Wait a centon, how come I can understand you?" Starbuck asked the equine suspiciously. Hades, if they can have you talking to a black unicorn in one of the BSG novels, then surely to God they can steal the idea, improve upon only marginally, to have you once again saved by our species, in this most Stygian of hovels. Oy! Verse! "Surely to God." Starbuck repeated back to the creature as he leapt through the air, twisting impressively before landing on the creature's back. "Tally-Ho, Dibley! And tell Steed I have my own now!" he cried as they flew away to dizzying heights. He looked down, and noticed a sticky-note stuck to the saddle. Hope this helps, thanks for the wonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnderfull evening. Love ya, Miri & Little Buckers. Gulp! Just then the saddle slipped... Just then the s should have listened. I really..." "But you never asked me about..." "Well, we're asking you now!" said Belloby, Imperious Leader, and maybe Boomer. Not sure about that. "Really?" said Stercuscaput, seeming to brighten. "You're really asking me?" "YES!!!!!!!!!" Boom. "What was that?" asked several voices, as they were once more rocked and jostled. The lights flickered. Starbuck rolled into Apollo, and the two ended up on the deck, as 'Buckers reduced his total body mass once again. Belloby was bellowing about something, Imperious Leader was demanding answers, Imperiously of course, Baltar was heard to say "Mother!", and Lucifer began repeating "Never fear, Lucifer is here, you ninny!" "I knew you didn't really want to know," droned Stercuscaput. ======= WHAT was the boom? What was the second boom? What in Hades Hole is going on? Will Muffit finally get his oil changed? What did Boxey smell? Come to think of it, where are the horney Priestesses, and how did we get into this mess in the first place? For answers, maybe, tune in to the next completely inert episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Be here next time, when we'll hear someone say, "Bubble-headed Booby? Who's a Bubble-Headed Booby?" In the not too distant past you may remember that in part 39: WHAT was the boom? What was the second boom? What in Hades Hole is going on? Will Muffit finally get his oil changed? What did Boxey smell? Come to think of it, where are the horny Priestesses, and how did we get into this mess in the first place? For answers, maybe, tune in to the next completely inert episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Be here next time, when we'll hear someone say, "Bubble-headed Booby? Who's a Bubble-Headed Booby?" The Starbuck Chronicles Part 40 "Does anyone have any Imodium?" Starbuck asked desperately as he felt another cramp spread through his abdomen. "Starbuck, I don't think your bowels are the priority here," Boomaddle slipped... "Oooooooooo fraaaaaaaaackkkk..................." ***** "You know," said Lucifer, wiping a glass and setting it back in place, "I haven't had any lines for several episodes now. I wonder if Glen has neglected to review my contract?" "Hey, guys!" said Lucifer, back out on the fairway, delivering drinks to Larson, Bellisario, and Moore. "I found the right script Boxey was supposed to have." "Imagine that," said Moore, deep into his drink. "Cool," said Bellisario. "Here, get this to Hathaway, okay?" he said to the Butler guy. Oh, joy. "Now, Glen," said Lucifer, arm about Larson's shoulder, "about my contract..." **************** WHAT new evil is Borax plotting? WHAT will happen once Hummer and Boomer meet up will the ladies? NOW that the right script has been found, WILL Boxey get it in time? WHAT is happening back on the Galactica? WHERE is Baltar? Will Moore like the vermouth cassis Lucifer brought? (I imagine so) WILL Larson s, and how did we get into this mess in the first place? For answers, maybe, tune in to the next completely inert episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Be here next time, when we'll hear someone say, "Bubble-headed Booby? Who's a Bubble-Headed Booby?" In the not too distant past you may remember that in part 39: WHAT was the boom? What was the second boom? What in Hades Hole is going on? Will Muffit finally get his oil changed? What did Boxey smell? Come to think of it, where are the horny Priestesses, and how did we get into this mess in the first place? For answers, maybe, tune in to the next completely inert episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Be here next time, when we'll hear someone say, "Bubble-headed Booby? Who's a Bubble-Headed Booby?" The Starbuck Chronicles Part 40 "Does anyone have any Imodium?" Starbuck asked desperately as he felt another cramp spread through his abdomen. "Starbuck, I don't think your bowels are the priority here," Boomer mentioned as he watched Apollo roll hastily away from the incontinent Lieutenant. "Stercuscaput, you single-brained bucket of bolts, what is exploding?" The Imperious Leader demanded. "That's Flight Leader Stercuscaput, if you don't mind," the delirious centurion replied. "I've had it up to here," he disconnected his left arm and held it with his right to touch the flickering light panels overhead. There were some advantages to having your diodes put in backwards, after all. "... with being taken for granted around here. If you really want to know what's exploding, you'll have to ask nicely." "Stercuscaput, if you don't tell me what I want to know `you' will be the next thing exploding on this baseship!!" His Imperiousness replied. "Oh, Lords, I hope he's right about that!" Starbuck muttered as he doubled over with further cramping. "All right, already. No need to get testy. The lab exploded!" Stercuscaput explained inadequately. "What lab?" Lucifer asked. acceeded to his contract demands? WILL Sheba and Apollo ever make up? WHERE is Starbuck headed? WHAT is going on back at the Arcade? For the answers to, hopefully, some of these confusticatingly bothersome questions, be sure to catch the next duodenally contortionalistic episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear Hummer say, "Book 'em, Boom-o!" And Starbuck add, somewhat addled, "Buck'em Book-O!" *********** The Sorceror's Stone From Harry Potter Turns Out To Be A Plastic Fake will not be seen at this time. Instead we present the following Hogwash. *********** On the last exacting episode of The Starbuck Chronicles, Apollo was about to challenge Count Iblis. Foremost on our illustrious Captain's mind was getting his son Boxey out of the evil clutches of Borax, a maniacal, but not very good, shapeshifter, hence the assumed shape of Lieutenant Boomer from knees up and two bleach bottles (scented lemony fresh!) from knees down. Just as our heroic Cer mentioned as he watched Apollo roll hastily away from the incontinent Lieutenant. "Stercuscaput, you single-brained bucket of bolts, what is exploding?" The Imperious Leader demanded. "That's Flight Leader Stercuscaput, if you don't mind," the delirious centurion replied. "I've had it up to here," he disconnected his left arm and held it with his right to touch the flickering light panels overhead. There were some advantages to having your diodes put in backwards, after all. "... with being taken for granted around here. If you really want to know what's exploding, you'll have to ask nicely." "Stercuscaput, if you don't tell me what I want to know `you' will be the next thing exploding on this baseship!!" His Imperiousness replied. "Oh, Lords, I hope he's right about that!" Starbuck muttered as he doubled over with further cramping. "All right, already. No need to get testy. The lab exploded!" Stercuscaput explained inadequately. "What lab?" Lucifer asked. "The Sennoside Lab you bubble-headed Booby!" replied an exasperated Stercuscaput. Was he really the only one who knew what was going on around here? And they thought he was only good for mopping up colonial messes? "Bubble-headed Booby? Who's a Bubble-Headed Booby?" Baltar asked. He was having an inordinately difficult time following all this. To defect or not defect, that is the question. "If you recall, Baltar, you put Stercuscaput in charge of developing advanced torture techniques for the human vermin." Lucifer elucidated. "Apparently, this sennoside laboratory is the result of his efforts. I deduce that he formulated the drug to be inhaled in the fumarello I gave to Lieutenant Starbuck." "Cyanide? Did he say cyanide?" Starbuck asked in a panic. Lords, they had slipped him something after all. So much for Lucifer fooling him into believing he wouldn't be tortured. Was it his imagination or was his vision becoming blurred around the edges? Sagan's sake!! "No, actually aptain was about to make his move, the control of his body was seized once again by Siress Belloby and her Divas-R-Us... (See the link on their web page, www.divas-r- us.org/priestesses/Belloby/myrt_the_flirt.html for coupons and membership information.)... due to the mind control device they had implanted some episodes ago. Simultaneously, the dashing Lieutenant Starbuck's body was also consumed by an uncontrollable urge to dance his way far, far from the hideously transfigured Mrs. Peel. As the Starbuck Luck would have it, a winged equine, apparently sent by Miri and Little Buckers (more on that later, possibly), swooped in to carry him away to safety. Unfortunately, also as his typical luck would have it, the saddle was not properly secured, and Starbuck was about to plummet to his... So........... "Buck"le up, hold on to your hats, and have your emesis basin nearby... Just when you thought it was safe to check your email... The Starbuck Chronicles Part 66. * * * * * "The Sennoside Lab you bubble-headed Booby!" replied an exasperated Stercuscaput. Was he really the only one who knew what was going on around here? And they thought he was only good for mopping up colonial messes? "Bubble-headed Booby? Who's a Bubble-Headed Booby?" Baltar asked. He was having an inordinately difficult time following all this. To defect or not defect, that is the question. "If you recall, Baltar, you put Stercuscaput in charge of developing advanced torture techniques for the human vermin." Lucifer elucidated. "Apparently, this sennoside laboratory is the result of his efforts. I deduce that he formulated the drug to be inhaled in the fumarello I gave to Lieutenant Starbuck." "Cyanide? Did he say cyanide?" Starbuck asked in a panic. Lords, they had slipped him something after all. So much for Lucifer fooling him into believing he wouldn't be tortured. Was it his imagination or was his vision becoming blurred around the edges? Sagan's sake!! "No, actually he said "sennoside", Buddy." Apollo replied. "What the frack's a sennoside?" Starbuck asked in fright. "A laxative, poo-poo pants," Belloby replied standing there in her bloomers. "Not that I'm that familiar with it personally," she added as she said a silent prayer of thanks to the Lords for Magnolax, which works reliably and gently overnight. "You're saying a laxative is blowing holes in the side of my baseship?" Baltar yelled in disbelief. The Imperious Leader was glaring at him disdainfully... at least it seemed that way. Really, it was difficult to tell. "Oh, believe me, Baltar. It's definitely explosive!" Starbuck assured him. "So... your advanced technique for torturing warriors involves them defecating to death?" Lucifer asked, clearly perplexed. "They don't call you `Stercuscaput' for nothing, do they?" "What?" Stercuscaput asked. He had thought it was the perfect plan. Colonial Warriors clearly couldn't fly their vipers and defend the fleet if they were "Commander, regulations are brutally clear. They've been missing for over... 65 episodes." Colonel Tigh reported quietly on the bridge, checking his chrono, extra pink pages in his back pocket. "I know, Tigh. But, surely there must be a way to delay... " Every yahren showed on Adama's weary face as he ran his hand over it. "I'm sorry, Commander. I've used every available loophole. I've curbed, deferred, discontinued, held off, held over, held up, postponed, put off, shelved, and suspended this moment long enough." He looked around, almost conspiratorially. "I even called Sire Solon. We have to officially report Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck as missing in action." "But they weren't all action scenes, Tigh," reasoned Adama. "Oh yeah?" came Vela's voice, from the next sound- stage. "A few sure as frack were! Woooo. Let me tell you..." Adama nodded, knowing it was true. He'd read the pink pages. * * * * * Iblis' sick, evil, twisted, malignahe said "sennoside", Buddy." Apollo replied. "What the frack's a sennoside?" Starbuck asked in fright. "A laxative, poo-poo pants," Belloby replied standing there in her bloomers. "Not that I'm that familiar with it personally," she added as she said a silent prayer of thanks to the Lords for Magnolax, which works reliably and gently overnight. "You're saying a laxative is blowing holes in the side of my baseship?" Baltar yelled in disbelief. The Imperious Leader was glaring at him disdainfully... at least it seemed that way. Really, it was difficult to tell. "Oh, believe me, Baltar. It's definitely explosive!" Starbuck assured him. "So... your advanced technique for torturing warriors involves them defecating to death?" Lucifer asked, clearly perplexed. "They don't call you `Stercuscaput' for nothing, do they?" "What?" Stercuscaput asked. He had thought it was the perfect plan. Colonial Warriors clearly couldn't fly their vipers and defend the fleet if they werent, horrid, festering, vile, and really really unpleasant laughter rang throughout the (stygian) depths of Hades Hole, as he watched Apollo's body sway in time to the beat of the band playing on the ridge. (Precisely where this band had come from is a matter of some conjecture in musical and psychopathic circles, but we won't go into it just now.) "It's difficult to take your threats seriously, Captain, when your dancing like an epileptic jumping bean." Apollo growled at the demon, knowing full well that Iblis was right. He looked ridiculous. Why hadn't his parents spent a few cubits on dance lessons instead of sticking him in cadets yahren after yahren as a child? Self- defence, leadership training, strategy, chess club, short- sheeting Athena's bed... what a waste! "Aaarrrrgggghhhh!!!!" abruptly rang out from above them. Apollo looked up, astounded to see a winged equine flying far above them... and the familiar shape of Starbuck plunging down towards them from dizzying height stuck in the turboflush! "Centurions! Remove this abomination from my imperious presence!" Imperious Leader bellowed as he pointed to the former Flight Leader. "And by my many eyes, find some air freshener!" "Frack, it smells like Muffit when he's in cybernetic rejection mode!" Apollo added fervently as he noticed Starbuck crawling towards the turbo flush. Life was so much simpler when this was all just a dream about horny priestesses. ======= And Now, the next alimenarially incontinent episode of---- THE STARBUCK CHRONICLES: ======= "Hey, careful of the diodes!" droned Stercuscapt, as two more Centurions appeared to drag him away. "Let me reattatch my arm, first, okay?" "Wo Dude, this is like totally groady!" observed one of the Centurions, as the disarticulated Flight-leader cum torturemeister was drug out of sight and sound, his squeeky boots leaving only shiny black heel marks behind him on the deck. "There," said Imperious Leader. "Now that THAT is out stuck in the turboflush! "Centurions! Remove this abomination from my imperious presence!" Imperious Leader bellowed as he pointed to the former Flight Leader. "And by my many eyes, find some air freshener!" "Frack, it smells like Muffit when he's in cybernetic rejection mode!" Apollo added fervently as he noticed Starbuck crawling towards the turbo flush. Life was so much simpler when this was all just a dream about horny priestesses. ======= And Now, the next alimenarially incontinent episode of---- THE STARBUCK CHRONICLES: ======= "Hey, careful of the diodes!" droned Stercuscapt, as two more Centurions appeared to drag him away. "Let me reattatch my arm, first, okay?" "Wo Dude, this is like totally groady!" observed one of the Centurions, as the disarticulated Flight-leader cum torturemeister was drug out of sight and sound, his squeeky boots leaving only shiny black heel marks behind him on the deck. "There," said Imperious Leader. "Now that THAT is outs... which was the only reason he hadn't hit bottom yet and gone splat, of course. Apollo said a silent prayer to God, all the Lords of Kobol and that saucy little goddess of Luck that Starbuck mentioned every so often (usually after cleaning up at Table III on the Rising Star, or coming out of Cassie's quarters with a grin on his face), as he watched the equine swoop back down towards his friend. * * * * * The wind swirled around Starbuck and his stomach felt as though it was doing its best to climb back up out of his abdomen and into his mouth, as he gazed in terror at the hastily approaching stygian ground. He was vaguely aware of the winged-equine swooping in to try and break his fall, but he was equally aware that with the combination of their trajectories and velocities, they weren't going to connect. Suddenly, the wind picked up again, seemingly tearing at his clothes... after all, no one else had for at least a couple episodes. In fact, it was a wonder of wonde of the way, I demand to know WHAT is going on here, and WHAT these Human vermin are doing out of the prison section? I also demand to..." "Wuuh....aahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" said Starbuck. "I also demand to know where the clean-up crew is!" "Oh just can it, Dragon Dimples!" snorted Belloby. "I wish Iblis had put a 'shut-up' program inside your pitiful excuse for brains. Lords of Kobol, you drone on worse than my third grade teacher sometimes, Impy." "How DARE you address me in that way, Human! I am the Imperious Leader of the Cyl...Oooooooooooooooooooofffgggggg!" "Stuff it, Gecko Gut!' swaggered Belloby, removing her booted foot from the Imperious Leader's abdominal region. The Cylon Leader crumpled to the floor, wheezing, squeeling coming from his voice synthesizer, and various components exiting from...well.... "Now, Starbuck! Straighten up! You look like a Boray having a seizure down there on the deck!" "I....AM having... a seizure you....golmonging snitardr... a miracle of miracles... that his clothing had remained intact after miraculously reappearing after his strip tease in Divas-R-Us. But, I digress... The winged-equine neighed, uncharacteristically, also feeling the power and fury of the sudden gust of nature. Starbuck began to feel like he was in a centrifuge... and I can't even begin to tell you what that was doing to his stomach. Oh, bloody Hades! Starbuck could hear the equine think, as if this was merely an inconvenience for the curiosity of nature. Yes, Nature's Fury was back. The cyclone that had departed the VS episode, seemingly temporarily, had in fact mutinied and turned into a tornado, finding the entire experience of being the ONLY featured weather system in a story rather satisfying... in a purely egomaniacal kind of way. Sorry Eric. Starbuck held on tightly to his stomach contents as he watched other things whirl around the newly formed tornado. Chiefly, he noted that Dibley and the horrible muta of the way, I demand to know WHAT is going on here, and WHAT these Human vermin are doing out of the prison section? I also demand to..." "Wuuh....aahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" said Starbuck. "I also demand to know where the clean-up crew is!" "Oh just can it, Dragon Dimples!" snorted Belloby. "I wish Iblis had put a 'shut-up' program inside your pitiful excuse for brains. Lords of Kobol, you drone on worse than my third grade teacher sometimes, Impy." "How DARE you address me in that way, Human! I am the Imperious Leader of the Cyl...Oooooooooooooooooooofffgggggg!" "Stuff it, Gecko Gut!' swaggered Belloby, removing her booted foot from the Imperious Leader's abdominal region. The Cylon Leader crumpled to the floor, wheezing, squeeling coming from his voice synthesizer, and various components exiting from...well.... "Now, Starbuck! Straighten up! You look like a Boray having a seizure down there on the deck!" "I....AM having... a seizure you....golmonging snitardiously..." "Starbuck!' said Lucifer. "Really, talking to a lady like that? What would your mother say?" "Not alot, right now! I..." "Mother!" muttered Baltar, looking from the crumpled Leader, to Belloby, to the rapidly weight-reducing Viper pilot, and beginning to shake uncontrollably. "Mother!" "Man!' blubbered Apollo, "this place is like a real gas, man!" "Why don't we just get the felcercarb out of here?" asked Boomer, trying to decide who was going to break down completely first, Baltar or Apollo. "An excellent idea, Lieutenet," said Lucifer, as another distant explosion rumbled through the BaseShip. He looked down, made sure it wasn't Starbuck, then looked back up at the assembled Humans. "It would seem they have found the unfortunate Stercuscaput's collection. I agree. Follow me to the Launch Bay?" "Lead on, Lucy," said Boomer. "Collec....collection?" asked Starbuck. "Believe me, you don't want to know, Lieutenant." He looked at Starbuck, tion that was formerly known as Mrs. Peel had joined them. Not to mention Count Iblis and Apollo. They all whirled, swirled and twirled their way to (no, not Carl) Sagan knows where... * * * * * "Whoa! We're catching a wave, Boom-Boom! Hang ten, dude!" Hummer exclaimed as he felt the vortex-spanning, sci- fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the `McGarrett Rocks!' sticker on the underside begin to tremble beneath him. "What the frack... ?" Boomer replied, jumping on behind the technician, which was no easy task considering he had been lying supine, crumpled against a wall for at least the last two episodes. Lords, it was a pain-in-the-astrum being a supportive leading man. Not only did he not get his character developed or have a love interest ... except in his dreams, or the VS, but he was also carelessly forgotten, cast aside in favour of other plotlines, often by people who compensated by adding extra vowels to certain words for no explicable reaiously..." "Starbuck!' said Lucifer. "Really, talking to a lady like that? What would your mother say?" "Not alot, right now! I..." "Mother!" muttered Baltar, looking from the crumpled Leader, to Belloby, to the rapidly weight-reducing Viper pilot, and beginning to shake uncontrollably. "Mother!" "Man!' blubbered Apollo, "this place is like a real gas, man!" "Why don't we just get the felcercarb out of here?" asked Boomer, trying to decide who was going to break down completely first, Baltar or Apollo. "An excellent idea, Lieutenet," said Lucifer, as another distant explosion rumbled through the BaseShip. He looked down, made sure it wasn't Starbuck, then looked back up at the assembled Humans. "It would seem they have found the unfortunate Stercuscaput's collection. I agree. Follow me to the Launch Bay?" "Lead on, Lucy," said Boomer. "Collec....collection?" asked Starbuck. "Believe me, you don't want to know, Lieutenant." He looked at Starbuck, then shrugged. "Very well. Laxatives. "Shall we go?" They all took off in pursuit of the IL Series Cylon, leaving the Imperious Leader twitching on the floor behind them. "This...never happened to Steed," he wheezed. ======= "Man, that's stinky!" said Boxey, stopping in a corridor. Muffit, close beside him, woofed in disgust at the odiferous sensation wafting towards them. "I think it's coming from here, Muffy. "Wooorr!" "Boy, you said it, Muff." "Wrrror?" "What's Cassiopeia got to do with this?" "Wrrrrrrrrrufff" "Oh." ======= "Here's the door to the Launch Bay," said Lucifer, coming to the door labelled, most imaginatively, "LAUNCH BAY" "Shall we?" "Outta my way, Halogen Head!" said Belloby, shoving her way to the front. She keyed the door, but it refused to open. She began to curse, kicking at it, all the while trying to ignore the very off-key tunes both Apollo and Balter were beginning to sing. Apollo was reciting a poem he'd wson. Though , she claimed, her people called it "English". Others, however, dispute this. The sudden storm whipped in through the arcade and swept them through the streets of Cordugo Pit. It whirled them around a parking lot, stopping briefly to twirl them above a mini-shuttle. The door was open and Boomer could see the chartreuse carpeting within. Shocking. "Thocking!" opined Blip. They were torn away once again, down endless twisting corridors. A labyrinth. Amazing really. Boomer held on tightly to Hummer, watching the scenery go by. "Starbuck!" he cried, as he saw his friend swirl away, caught up in the same weather pattern. "Hummer, do you have any control over this thing?" He yelled, the wind carrying his voice in the general direction of Hades Hole. * * * * * "Uh, girls, I think we have a problem." Siress Belloby told them, peering into her crystal ball. "You mean other than the fact that we still need to get Boxey away from Borax, anritten about Serina ("Oh Lords!" muttered Boomer), and Baltar kept repeating "Whoooooooooooo are you? I really want to know!!!!" "Okay, Lucy," wheezed Starbuck, "why won't it open?" "Possibly, Lieutenent, because...." Then, partly because it heightens tension, and partly because I'm out of plot devices just now, the lights went out again. "Oh, not again!" said Boomer. Yes. Again! ======= "I wonder what's behind this door, Muffy." "Whrrffrr!" "Well, not literally I hope!" He touched the pad, and..... ======= WHAT is behind the mysterious door? WHAT was keeping the Launch Bay hatch from opening? WHY is Belloby being so upset? (Okay, yeah, she's Belloby. But still...) WHAT was Muffy smelling? WHERE di Baltar get that song, and did Apollo REALLY say...THAT about Serina? For the (yeah, you wish!) answers to these, but probably no other irrelevant questions, be sure to catch the next purgatively circumspect episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles."then shrugged. "Very well. Laxatives. "Shall we go?" They all took off in pursuit of the IL Series Cylon, leaving the Imperious Leader twitching on the floor behind them. "This...never happened to Steed," he wheezed. ======= "Man, that's stinky!" said Boxey, stopping in a corridor. Muffit, close beside him, woofed in disgust at the odiferous sensation wafting towards them. "I think it's coming from here, Muffy. "Wooorr!" "Boy, you said it, Muff." "Wrrror?" "What's Cassiopeia got to do with this?" "Wrrrrrrrrrufff" "Oh." ======= "Here's the door to the Launch Bay," said Lucifer, coming to the door labelled, most imaginatively, "LAUNCH BAY" "Shall we?" "Outta my way, Halogen Head!" said Belloby, shoving her way to the front. She keyed the door, but it refused to open. She began to curse, kicking at it, all the while trying to ignore the very off-key tunes both Apollo and Balter were beginning to sing. Apollo was reciting a poem he'd wd that the hero facing the demon is now dancing instead of battling?" Sheba asked in consternation, taking a threatening step towards the shapeshifter, who now appeared as a dark-haired man in a blue suit, but still wore the bleach bottles nevertheless. "We did activate the mind control unit to make him dance." Myrtle mentioned, holding up the remote control. "Remember?" "Why did we do that again?" Vela asked. In hindsight, it seemed kind of stupid. "Pleasure." Myrtle replied, grinning lasciviously, as she carressed the "play" button on her remote, at the memory of Starbuck dancing. "Strategy." Belloby snarled. "It was supposed to throw Iblis off so we could throw open the door and leap in to come to the Captain's assistance." "Throw open the door?" Boxey asked. "Okay." And so he did. A massive surge of air gust through the door, blowing Boxey back into Sheba's waiting arms. "Gotcha!" she cried in relief. The room became a whirlwind as a large b Tune in when we'll here Cassiopeia say, "Oh sure, you can say that, Boxey. But just wait till your Dad sees your shoes!" or, maybe "Honestly, Grandpa! It just fell down." I'm not sure which. I'll sleep on it. ======= And now the next bedlamite edition of the Starbuck Chronicles. Part 41 Once again Starbuck climbed up Lucifer, pulling the beaded cord that caused the illuminating effect that had earned him the affectionate nickname, old bulbhead. "The hatch won't open because if you look a little closer at the door it says "pull". You are all clearly "pushing". Lucifer pointed out. No wonder the humans were on the run. For all their skills at playing cards, they were a bit on the witless side of stupid. "I really wanna know," Baltar sang again as he watched Apollo pick up a stringed instrument and begin bashing it to pieces on the deck. "Really Baltar, I hate to repeat myself unnecessarily." Lucifer complained as he watched Boomer start pulling on the haritten about Serina ("Oh Lords!" muttered Boomer), and Baltar kept repeating "Whoooooooooooo are you? I really want to know!!!!" "Okay, Lucy," wheezed Starbuck, "why won't it open?" "Possibly, Lieutenent, because...." Then, partly because it heightens tension, and partly because I'm out of plot devices just now, the lights went out again. "Oh, not again!" said Boomer. Yes. Again! ======= "I wonder what's behind this door, Muffy." "Whrrffrr!" "Well, not literally I hope!" He touched the pad, and..... ======= WHAT is behind the mysterious door? WHAT was keeping the Launch Bay hatch from opening? WHY is Belloby being so upset? (Okay, yeah, she's Belloby. But still...) WHAT was Muffy smelling? WHERE di Baltar get that song, and did Apollo REALLY say...THAT about Serina? For the (yeah, you wish!) answers to these, but probably no other irrelevant questions, be sure to catch the next purgatively circumspect episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles."ouncing white ball, a he'enalu board, a winged-equine and several people swept into the incredibly small space. The wind suddenly died down and bodies fell, one by one landing on the floor. Boomer jumped to his feet, one of the first to recover. He pulled his blaster and pointed it at Iblis, Dibley, Borax (Korax was conveniently rehearsing another scene, elsewhere), and Baltar, all conveniently positioned beneath the equine. "Don't move!" he shouted, as he noticed Apollo jump to his side, his weapon also drawn. "Book 'em, Boom-o!" Hummer yelled from beneath Belloby's bottom. Starbuck struggled to his feet, his head still swirling from the ride. He shook his head to clear it, taking in the bizarre group of characters before him. He added, somewhat addled, "Buck'em Book-O!" "Oh, yeah!" said Cassie. Then he dropped to the floor once again, just as Rover settled to the ground, and the Butler Guy got off. He went to Starbuck. Aspirin? * * * * * "Btch. "Boomer, what the frack is going on here?" Starbuck asked. "Is everyone on drugs?" "Danged if I know, Buckster. Any ideas on how to shut up Baltar and Apollo?" "I really wanna know!" Baltar sang as he shook out his head and wiggled his astrum as Apollo continued to search frantically for musical instruments to destroy while muttering with his hand over his heart: "Serina, I love you, you know that baby I do, Oh, why'd you have to get shot and go and leave me your tot, Oh baby, I love you!!" * * * * * Meanwhile, back on the Galactica: Boxey and Muffy stood in front of the door that was emitting an odiferous type... stink and watched carefully as it began to swing open. Boxey's eyes opened wide as he squeezed his nostrils tightly. "Oh, that's so gross!" "Wrrbing!" "You can say that again!" "Wrrbing!" "Don't push me daggit." They moved into the closet and examined each item individually. Lace, silk, garters and... worse of al Tune in when we'll here Cassiopeia say, "Oh sure, you can say that, Boxey. But just wait till your Dad sees your shoes!" or, maybe "Honestly, Grandpa! It just fell down." I'm not sure which. I'll sleep on it. ======= And now the next bedlamite edition of the Starbuck Chronicles. Part 41 Once again Starbuck climbed up Lucifer, pulling the beaded cord that caused the illuminating effect that had earned him the affectionate nickname, old bulbhead. "The hatch won't open because if you look a little closer at the door it says "pull". You are all clearly "pushing". Lucifer pointed out. No wonder the humans were on the run. For all their skills at playing cards, they were a bit on the witless side of stupid. "I really wanna know," Baltar sang again as he watched Apollo pick up a stringed instrument and begin bashing it to pieces on the deck. "Really Baltar, I hate to repeat myself unnecessarily." Lucifer complained as he watched Boomer start pulling on the haloody Hades Hole!" shouted Sire Uri. "Who'se gonna clean up this mess?" WHO will be cleaning up the mess? WHERE are Apollo and Starbuck headed on the winged beast? HOW did Hummer manage to recover so quickly? WHO is Borax's new form? WHO is "Little Buckers"? HOW did our heroes get their pistols back? WHERE is Mrs. Peel now? WILL Starbuck recover? DOES the aspirin offered to him have bufferin in it?(He's got a sensitive tummy, remember?) WILL Eric write his current VS episode any faster? WHERE did the (big, jazz, or salsa?) band come from? For the answers to these, and numerous other pointless questions, be sure and catch the next sub-Belloby posterior episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in when we'll hear Sire Uri say, "I never drink...wine!" ======= Lawrence Of Arabia Gets Stuck In The Rain will not be seen at this time. In its place we present the following muck. ======= The room was white. Life Center white. Sterile, antiseptic, cold, stark, blindingl... perfume! "Oh, that's so gross, Muffit!" Suddenly, they heard someone coming into the room. They jumped back only to have several pieces of oversized lingerie fall atop them. "Boxey, what are you doing in Ila's things?" Adama yelled as he stared at the boy and his mechanical mutt. "Honestly, Grandpa, it just fell down!" * * * * * "Would you open the fracking hatch already you dim-witted dodo's?" Belloby screamed at them. "What's your hurry?" Boomer asked indifferently. "I need to get back to the senior's ship in time for the bingo to start!" The siress screeched as she whipped out her ink blotters and started decorating Lucifer's cape. "Boomer, what happened, old buddy? Didn't we kind of get side-tracked here?" Starbuck asked sadly as he searched desperately for a clean pair of trousers. "Yeah, Bucko, you're right. Somehow all these superfluous characters took over." "Wasn't it supposed to be all about me, Boom-Boom?" Starbuck whined. Bootch. "Boomer, what the frack is going on here?" Starbuck asked. "Is everyone on drugs?" "Danged if I know, Buckster. Any ideas on how to shut up Baltar and Apollo?" "I really wanna know!" Baltar sang as he shook out his head and wiggled his astrum as Apollo continued to search frantically for musical instruments to destroy while muttering with his hand over his heart: "Serina, I love you, you know that baby I do, Oh, why'd you have to get shot and go and leave me your tot, Oh baby, I love you!!" * * * * * Meanwhile, back on the Galactica: Boxey and Muffy stood in front of the door that was emitting an odiferous type... stink and watched carefully as it began to swing open. Boxey's eyes opened wide as he squeezed his nostrils tightly. "Oh, that's so gross!" "Wrrbing!" "You can say that again!" "Wrrbing!" "Don't push me daggit." They moved into the closet and examined each item individually. Lace, silk, garters and... worse of al white. He wasn't sure how he had come to be lying in the middle of the room, especially dressed like he was. In direct contrast to the room, he was outfitted in black leather. Boots, pants, jacket and even gloves. It fit him like a second skin. But where had it come from? The last thing he remembered, he had been in Hades Hole riding, or rather falling off of, a winged-equine and was just about to plunge to his (stygian) death when suddenly he was swept away by a tornado. Actually, that didn't sound very damn plausible, now that he thought about it. Lords, what had he been drinking last night? "Anybody here?" he asked as he sat back on his heels, taking a better look around. There was something very eerie about this place. That, and the fact everything was in black-and- white. He climbed to his feet, noting the way the soft, smooth leather moved against his skin. Hades, it was almost erotic. Well, in a `you're totally-alone-in-a-strange- and-eermer patted his back and helpfully presented a pair of triad shorts, a helmet and some wipes from Johnson and Johnson. "Here you go, Buddy. It's gonna be alright." "But how do you know for sure, Boomer?" Starbuck asked him as he cleaned up and put on the tastefully revealing outfit, wondering if he should wear the helmet as he was supposed to be climbing into a viper soon... and apparently without his pressure suit. "Because I found the duct tape." The hatch creaked open and all eyes, even Baltar's and Apollo's, widened in shock. "Holy frack, that planet looks just like..." Boomer muttered. * * * * Stay tuned for the next episode of the Starbuck Chronicles when we find out what planet that is and just what Boomer intends to do with the duct tape. ======= And now, the next mysterious, "will it be white or black smoke" conclav-ish episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles." "Well?" said Starbuck. "What does it look like, Boomer?" "Ummm...." "Stranl... perfume! "Oh, that's so gross, Muffit!" Suddenly, they heard someone coming into the room. They jumped back only to have several pieces of oversized lingerie fall atop them. "Boxey, what are you doing in Ila's things?" Adama yelled as he stared at the boy and his mechanical mutt. "Honestly, Grandpa, it just fell down!" * * * * * "Would you open the fracking hatch already you dim-witted dodo's?" Belloby screamed at them. "What's your hurry?" Boomer asked indifferently. "I need to get back to the senior's ship in time for the bingo to start!" The siress screeched as she whipped out her ink blotters and started decorating Lucifer's cape. "Boomer, what happened, old buddy? Didn't we kind of get side-tracked here?" Starbuck asked sadly as he searched desperately for a clean pair of trousers. "Yeah, Bucko, you're right. Somehow all these superfluous characters took over." "Wasn't it supposed to be all about me, Boom-Boom?" Starbuck whined. Booie-environment-and-you're-having-sudden- inexplicable- sexual-urges', kind of way. But then again, he was like that. Especially after a decided lack of sexual activity over the course of 66 episodes. Frack, he was practically a cenobite. Which was, he reflected, decidedly better than being a trilobite. Although their sex-life was similarly paced. "Hello!" he tried again. It was reminiscent of the Ship of Lights in a way, everything white and hazy. It certainly wasn't stygian. And there were certainly no advanced beings here trying to evasively guide him on a path of goodness or to help to make sense of the craziness of life. At least none were in evidence. He seemed to be totally alone. That, more than anything else, was the disturbing part. * * * * * "Your feeble weapons do not work on me!" Iblis mocked the Warriors, as he twirled his index finger and the equine rose slowly into the air, suspended above the formerly trapped bad guys. "You are helge," said Lucifer. "I don't recall a planet by that name anywhere in our data banks." "Oh you Warriors!" huffed Belloby. "Admittedly, I was lost once..." muttered the IL series Cylon. "Please, Boomer," said Baltar, trying not to drool all over Lucifer's robes, "tell us what it looks like. 'O I REALLLLY WANT TO KNOWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!'" "Oh, yeah," droned Apollo. "Wanna know, Serina baby! Wanna know all about you-hoo-hooooooo! Oh, babe, I need you, need your hoochy coochy lovin' tooooooooooooo-night!!!!!!!!!!!" "Enough of this!" seethed Belloby, and seizing the duct tape from Boomer, proceeded to wrap it around both Apollo and Baltar's mouths, till both were silenced. Seemingly satisfied, she handed the remaining roll to Starbuck. "Here, java boy, wrap up tight." "Hey, I..." "You sure do, Honey Bun! Now get to it." So said, she turned to Boomer. "Lieutenant?' "Yeah?" "WHAT DOES THE BLOODY PLANET LOOK LIKE??????????" "It looks like...Forty two! mer patted his back and helpfully presented a pair of triad shorts, a helmet and some wipes from Johnson and Johnson. "Here you go, Buddy. It's gonna be alright." "But how do you know for sure, Boomer?" Starbuck asked him as he cleaned up and put on the tastefully revealing outfit, wondering if he should wear the helmet as he was supposed to be climbing into a viper soon... and apparently without his pressure suit. "Because I found the duct tape." The hatch creaked open and all eyes, even Baltar's and Apollo's, widened in shock. "Holy frack, that planet looks just like..." Boomer muttered. * * * * Stay tuned for the next episode of the Starbuck Chronicles when we find out what planet that is and just what Boomer intends to do with the duct tape. ======= And now, the next mysterious, "will it be white or black smoke" conclav-ish episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles." "Well?" said Starbuck. "What does it look like, Boomer?" "Ummm...." "Stranpless before my awesome powers! Bwahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" The beast began to flap its wings, trying to futilely regain control, but Iblis maintained his power over the equine and with a twist of his wrist had it flying loop-the- loops over the (stygian) river. The beast neighed in fury and humiliation, neither of which languages I know, so I can't report what he said. "Bloody good work, bruvver!" Dibley cried as he brushed the equine hair off his robes. "Hallo Ladies!" he gushed as he noticed the collection of attractive females amassed nearby. Alarmingly though, too many of them were hovering over the still prostrate Lieutenant, who, so it seemed, was out-cold. "Something's wrong." (Oh really? No kidding? Thanks!) "His heart rate is incredibly low. His pupils aren't reacting to my illuminator." Cassie commented as she checked Starbuck over. Just her luck, she finally makes it into a couple episodes, only to have her man unconscious and having a strange physiologicalUh, I mean it looks like Atilla!" "Oh hey! Miri!" said Starbuck. "Cool!" "But it can't be!" said Boomer. "Atilla is light-yahrens behind us! It can't be Atilla." "MMghmmphffmmbbm?" asked Apollo. "What did he say?" asked Boomer. "He said 'MMghmmphffmmbbm?', it sounded like," replied Belloby. "Oh, right." ======= "It fell down?" thuindered Adama, looking down at Boxey from above. The boy, still swathed in lingerie and lace, said nothing. "Get up!" "Uhh...I..." "Get up, Boxey," repeated Adama. "Now, what are you doing in here?" "Well...me and Muffy...we smelled something really awful, and..." "Blast! I keep telling maintenance about the plumbing, but will they listen to me? Nooooooooooooooooo!!!!' "There it is again!' said Boxey. "Rorrrw!' said Muffit. "Peeee yewwwwwwwww!!!" said Adama. "You weren't kidding kid. For a moment there, I almost forgot that Muffit uses oil!" "Yup. Viperlene, 10-50 multiweight. But ge," said Lucifer. "I don't recall a planet by that name anywhere in our data banks." "Oh you Warriors!" huffed Belloby. "Admittedly, I was lost once..." muttered the IL series Cylon. "Please, Boomer," said Baltar, trying not to drool all over Lucifer's robes, "tell us what it looks like. 'O I REALLLLY WANT TO KNOWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!'" "Oh, yeah," droned Apollo. "Wanna know, Serina baby! Wanna know all about you-hoo-hooooooo! Oh, babe, I need you, need your hoochy coochy lovin' tooooooooooooo-night!!!!!!!!!!!" "Enough of this!" seethed Belloby, and seizing the duct tape from Boomer, proceeded to wrap it around both Apollo and Baltar's mouths, till both were silenced. Seemingly satisfied, she handed the remaining roll to Starbuck. "Here, java boy, wrap up tight." "Hey, I..." "You sure do, Honey Bun! Now get to it." So said, she turned to Boomer. "Lieutenant?' "Yeah?" "WHAT DOES THE BLOODY PLANET LOOK LIKE??????????" "It looks like...Forty two! reaction. "You mean he has students?" asked Dibley. "Can it, Dibs!' snarled Belloby. "NO!!" cried Iblis, staring at the latest re-writes, suddenly losing his hold on the beast as it flexed its mighty wings once again, rising above them all in splendor before disappearing from sight. He did, however, leave a little something for Iblis. Or maybe alot of something. "What is it Iblis? What scares you so?" Apollo snarled as he joined the group of women, his son at his side. "It can't be! They wouldn't chose him! Of all people, they wouldn't chose a depraved, selfish, conceited, egotistical, self-centered, cynical, randy sex-toy, with high self-esteem." Iblis raved. "Other than me." "How did you know...?" Cassie asked, abruptly feeling every micron of Starbuck's absence. "I know everything. I see everything. I am... everything." Iblis spread his hands wide expressively, his overall importance clearly communicated. Plop! "Aaaaaaaaaarrrrrrghhh!!!shouldn't we find out what stinks?" "Of course. In fact..." Ding dong! "I wonder who that could be?" said Adama. ======= "Okay, so it looks like Atilla," said Lucifer, wondering why upon stepping through the hatch, they all seemed to be floating in open space, staring at a planet in front of them. It was then thgat he realized that the bay doors were open, the light's were out, and they were staring at a planet in front of them. Only it wasn't Atilla. Not by a long shot. No way. Uh uhh! You bet your black-button gaiters it wasn't. "My mistake," said Boomer. "It isn't Atilla." "What a relief!" said Belloby. "Rats!" said Starbuck. "It's...." "APOLLO!" said a voice, an irqate female one. "So, you've finally come back????" "MMMgggammmbbwmmb!" said Apollo, agitated. "What did he say?" asked Lucifer? "He said..." began Boomer. "Shut up!" said Belloby. "I'mn already late for the bloody door prize as it is." the lights went up,Uh, I mean it looks like Atilla!" "Oh hey! Miri!" said Starbuck. "Cool!" "But it can't be!" said Boomer. "Atilla is light-yahrens behind us! It can't be Atilla." "MMghmmphffmmbbm?" asked Apollo. "What did he say?" asked Boomer. "He said 'MMghmmphffmmbbm?', it sounded like," replied Belloby. "Oh, right." ======= "It fell down?" thuindered Adama, looking down at Boxey from above. The boy, still swathed in lingerie and lace, said nothing. "Get up!" "Uhh...I..." "Get up, Boxey," repeated Adama. "Now, what are you doing in here?" "Well...me and Muffy...we smelled something really awful, and..." "Blast! I keep telling maintenance about the plumbing, but will they listen to me? Nooooooooooooooooo!!!!' "There it is again!' said Boxey. "Rorrrw!' said Muffit. "Peeee yewwwwwwwww!!!" said Adama. "You weren't kidding kid. For a moment there, I almost forgot that Muffit uses oil!" "Yup. Viperlene, 10-50 multiweight. But !!!!!!!!!!!" roared Iblis, as the equine's parting gift reached him. "I...I...!!!!!!!!!!" "You really ought to go lie down," said Boxey to the demon. "You look pooped!" * * * * * "Okay, this is getting old really fast!!" Starbuck yelled, the sound echoing back at him. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!!" he added, more to amuse himself than because he thought it would do any good. Strangely though, it seemed to work. Forms began to materialize around him. All of them women. They closed on him, each of them wearing a leer on their otherwise attractive features. "Uh... haven't we done this scene already?" Starbuck asked, wondering if these ladies belonged to Divas- R-Us or the League of Luscious Lecherous Lascivious Ladies. "No", one of them drawled, her particular accent striking Starbuck as charming. It almost sounded Oklatexan, by his reckoning. "This is a new plot line. This one's for the ladies, Bucko. Check your pink pages, okay?" "Uh... righ and before them stood a mysterious Human. "Apollo's eyes went wide, and then the newcomer said... ======= What will the newcomer say? WHO is she, and WHAT does she want with Apollo? HOW will Starbuck deal with the shifting of focus off of himself? How will he survive duct tape pants? WHO could be knocking on Adama's door, and did Boxey REALLY tell the truth about the nighties? For the answers to some, but we're not sure about all, of these questions, tune in next time for the continuing saga of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Ber here, when we'll hear Baltar say, "MMMM!!!!!!!! MMMMMBBMMMMB!!!!!!!!!!!" Part 43 "Hi," the blonde woman said to Apollo, they usually were blonde after all. "I don't like that tint of lipstick on you, Apollo. It doesn't suit you in the least. And really, if you're going to wear it, at least learn to stay in the lines. You're clearly not the man I thought you were." Apollo eyes bugged open and he tried to protest his wearing of makeup, but theshouldn't we find out what stinks?" "Of course. In fact..." Ding dong! "I wonder who that could be?" said Adama. ======= "Okay, so it looks like Atilla," said Lucifer, wondering why upon stepping through the hatch, they all seemed to be floating in open space, staring at a planet in front of them. It was then thgat he realized that the bay doors were open, the light's were out, and they were staring at a planet in front of them. Only it wasn't Atilla. Not by a long shot. No way. Uh uhh! You bet your black-button gaiters it wasn't. "My mistake," said Boomer. "It isn't Atilla." "What a relief!" said Belloby. "Rats!" said Starbuck. "It's...." "APOLLO!" said a voice, an irqate female one. "So, you've finally come back????" "MMMgggammmbbwmmb!" said Apollo, agitated. "What did he say?" asked Lucifer? "He said..." began Boomer. "Shut up!" said Belloby. "I'mn already late for the bloody door prize as it is." the lights went up, duct tape prevented his denial. Suddenly, he remembered he still had hands and pulled the tape off. Rrrriiiipppp! "Frack, that hurts!" He looked in sympathy at Starbuck who had just finished wrapping himself from toes to neck in the stuff. "What are you doing here?" He moved forward with a red ring around his mouth from where the tape had been. Sagan, it had been sectars since he had last seen her. "Never mind that," she replied. "You need to make haste. This base ship is going to explode." "But how did we get all the way back to...?" Apollo started in confusion. "Apollo, we picked up the preliminary emissions from an imminent Sennoside explosion. We have to go now!" "MMMM!!!!!!!! MMMMMBBMMMMB!!!!!!!!!!!" Baltar mumbled through the tape while glaring in disgust at Starbuck. "Huh?" replied the encased Lieutenant. Baltar ripped his piece of duct tape off his mouth, following Apollo's lead. "I said, "MMMM!!!!!!!! MMMMMBBMMMMB!!!!!!!!!!!" "Oh, right. Thanks. Tht." He did so. Umm...it says I'm in the Village...Oh, wrong side." He read some more, nodding. "Okay, is that why I'm decked out in black leather?" He asked, not in the least bit intimidated by them. In fact, he thought they were the most intriguing group of ladies he had ever met. "Oh yeah!" they replied in chorus, their eyes raking him from head to toe. "Uh, would you mind turning around. I'll really like to take a closer look." another asked, her accent somewhat BCbertan, winking at him suggestively. He grinned in reply, turning slowly in a circle, hearing their sighs and mutterings of appreciation and then sidled up next to her. "How's this for closer?" he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. "Hmm. Very nice." She murmured just before his lips brushed against hers. "Hey, stop hogging him." another protested, her accent vaguely Edmoronto, although Lisa insists it was closer to Washitoma. Myself, I'm dubious, but I digress... "Don' and before them stood a mysterious Human. "Apollo's eyes went wide, and then the newcomer said... ======= What will the newcomer say? WHO is she, and WHAT does she want with Apollo? HOW will Starbuck deal with the shifting of focus off of himself? How will he survive duct tape pants? WHO could be knocking on Adama's door, and did Boxey REALLY tell the truth about the nighties? For the answers to some, but we're not sure about all, of these questions, tune in next time for the continuing saga of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Ber here, when we'll hear Baltar say, "MMMM!!!!!!!! MMMMMBBMMMMB!!!!!!!!!!!" Part 43 "Hi," the blonde woman said to Apollo, they usually were blonde after all. "I don't like that tint of lipstick on you, Apollo. It doesn't suit you in the least. And really, if you're going to wear it, at least learn to stay in the lines. You're clearly not the man I thought you were." Apollo eyes bugged open and he tried to protest his wearing of makeup, but theat really clears things up for me." Starbuck replied. "So, I only see one viper. How are we going to get out of here and what the frack is that?" He pointed to a very small shuttle-like looking thingy. "That's my mini-shuttle. It's for the upwardly mobile woman, don't you know." The mysterious blonde woman replied as she eyed the wrapped man. He had strange taste in clothing, but was otherwise easy on the eyes. She wondered if he could kill a lupus or make veeta. Her eyes swung between Starbuck and Apollo. Then she noticed Boomer. Hmm. No signs of silver anywhere and nicely dressed. "I can get six of us in the mini-shuttle." She told them. "Uh, that disturbingly leaves one of us stranded on a base ship that's about to explode," Lucifer mentioned as the only non-human around. He realized he had just descended down the ladder of importance. "No problem, Lucy," Starbuck told him, "I'll take you in my viper. Belloby, give me the rest of that duct tape." * * * * * "Athena, t you mean `porcining' him?" a further suggested with a laugh. More like a snort, really. Maybe kind of like a porcine snort? Anyway... "Now, now, ladies. Remember why we're here. We have to whip him..." and here she had to stop and wipe her mouth, "into shape to go up against Iblis. Good against evil, mortal against immortal, pseudo-British accent against American." the Oklatexan reminded them... at the same time allowing herself to bobby a feel. "Hmm." Starbuck grinned, fumerello suddenly in one hand, as she ran her hand across his leather-clad astrum. "Just... who are you ladies?" "Well, for the sake of simplicity, just call us the Starbuckians." "Well, I could go for that," grinned the Viper pilot. "I just have one question. How come you're all in black and white? * * * * * "No, thank you," said Sire Uri, out of the fairway with Larson, Bellisario, and Moore. "I never drink...wine." "I see," said Lucifer. "I wonder where Baltar is." "I can't i duct tape prevented his denial. Suddenly, he remembered he still had hands and pulled the tape off. Rrrriiiipppp! "Frack, that hurts!" He looked in sympathy at Starbuck who had just finished wrapping himself from toes to neck in the stuff. "What are you doing here?" He moved forward with a red ring around his mouth from where the tape had been. Sagan, it had been sectars since he had last seen her. "Never mind that," she replied. "You need to make haste. This base ship is going to explode." "But how did we get all the way back to...?" Apollo started in confusion. "Apollo, we picked up the preliminary emissions from an imminent Sennoside explosion. We have to go now!" "MMMM!!!!!!!! MMMMMBBMMMMB!!!!!!!!!!!" Baltar mumbled through the tape while glaring in disgust at Starbuck. "Huh?" replied the encased Lieutenant. Baltar ripped his piece of duct tape off his mouth, following Apollo's lead. "I said, "MMMM!!!!!!!! MMMMMBBMMMMB!!!!!!!!!!!" "Oh, right. Thanks. Thcome in," Adama bade her as she stood at the hatch. Athena could hear a disruption coming from her father's sleeping chamber and decided to take the initiative and investigate. As she entered two things disturbed her. A terrible smell and some incredibly tacky lingerie. "Ewwww! What in Hade's Hole is that smell?" "That's what we're trying to find out," Boxey told his Aunt from beneath a pair of hot pink knickers. "Boxey, what are you doing?" "I just told you. Didn't I Muffit?" The boy replied indignantly. "Wrrbing!" "See?" Boxey said as a garter belt fell onto his head from the hanger above. "Uh, Athena and Boxey, why don't we go into the other room?" Adama suggested uncomfortably. "Oh, Father, why are you still hanging onto this stuff?" Athena asked empathetically as she lifted the knickers and garter off her nephew. "Uh, Father, Mother was a size small and these are extra large... uh, Father, uh... FATHER!!!!" * * * * * "Starbuck, this is smagine," said Moore, trying to fish his contacts out of the vermouth cassis he was holding. * * * * * Iblis glared malevolently at Boxey, his eyes ablaze with demonic wrath. Never had he suffered such humiliation! And now, for a mere...mere Human boy to compound it like this.....He raised one hand, fingers crackling with unholy energies. This whelp would suffer. All of them (once he got cleaned up) would suffer for his... Oooooofff!!!!!! Iblis went sprawling, to crash into and then bounce off of Rover, as the space behind him suddenly ripped open, and Athena, through no mechanism or motivation that makes much sense, sailed through, slamming into Iblis' back. She rolled off of him, and skidded across the ground, to stop in front of Hummer, who was just managing to exit being under Belloby. Hummer said: "What a rush, dude!" "That's my line!" protested Boomer. "Athena!" said Apollo, "you're okay. What's been happening?" "I'd like to know that, too!" saiat really clears things up for me." Starbuck replied. "So, I only see one viper. How are we going to get out of here and what the frack is that?" He pointed to a very small shuttle-like looking thingy. "That's my mini-shuttle. It's for the upwardly mobile woman, don't you know." The mysterious blonde woman replied as she eyed the wrapped man. He had strange taste in clothing, but was otherwise easy on the eyes. She wondered if he could kill a lupus or make veeta. Her eyes swung between Starbuck and Apollo. Then she noticed Boomer. Hmm. No signs of silver anywhere and nicely dressed. "I can get six of us in the mini-shuttle." She told them. "Uh, that disturbingly leaves one of us stranded on a base ship that's about to explode," Lucifer mentioned as the only non-human around. He realized he had just descended down the ladder of importance. "No problem, Lucy," Starbuck told him, "I'll take you in my viper. Belloby, give me the rest of that duct tape." * * * * * "Athena, tupid. How do you know that wrapping yourself in duct tape is going to provide adequate protection?" Apollo asked his friend as he watched him again wrap another layer around Lucifer who was by now stuck to the nose of the viper. "I saw it on Red Green." Starbuck replied. "If you have a game bird, I can dangle it behind one of my engines with a few metrons of chain and we'll have a nice meal by the time we land." Starbuck added as he looked around for his triad helmet. "Allow me, Tin Man." Belloby told him and deposited a silver funnel on top of his head, point up, of course. "You realize that the heat of the engine would incinerate the game bird, you nincompoop." "Ah, so you're saying I need a longer chain," Starbuck suggested. "I'm suggesting you need a brain, Tin Man!" Belloby responded. "Lords, why is it the cute ones are so dimwitted?" "Starbuck, I'm serious. Come in the mini-shuttle with us and we can get a tow rope for Lucifer... after all, we're all out of duct come in," Adama bade her as she stood at the hatch. Athena could hear a disruption coming from her father's sleeping chamber and decided to take the initiative and investigate. As she entered two things disturbed her. A terrible smell and some incredibly tacky lingerie. "Ewwww! What in Hade's Hole is that smell?" "That's what we're trying to find out," Boxey told his Aunt from beneath a pair of hot pink knickers. "Boxey, what are you doing?" "I just told you. Didn't I Muffit?" The boy replied indignantly. "Wrrbing!" "See?" Boxey said as a garter belt fell onto his head from the hanger above. "Uh, Athena and Boxey, why don't we go into the other room?" Adama suggested uncomfortably. "Oh, Father, why are you still hanging onto this stuff?" Athena asked empathetically as she lifted the knickers and garter off her nephew. "Uh, Father, Mother was a size small and these are extra large... uh, Father, uh... FATHER!!!!" * * * * * "Starbuck, this is sd Blip, a piece of chartreuse carpeting in his hand. "You people keep tearing up all the temporal barrierth in my arcade. How'm I thupposed to run a buthineth that way?" "Uhh...dunno," said Belloby. "Charge them rent!" said Baltar. "Book 'em," said Borax, still in the blue suit and black hair. The bleach bottles had transmogrified by this point to oversized flower-print sandles, so I guess he was making progress. Good. All good, said the Butler guy. Anyway, as Athena opened her mouth to fulfill Apollo's request, the very sky of Hades Hole began to split apart. Myriad voices broke through, some she recognized, and some not. There were images of the Commander back on the ship, Tigh at his side, Lucifer on the golf course with Moore, and Starbuck surrounded by yet more scantily clad ladies. The images of a tall man wearing buckskins and coonskin cap, splitting oak trees with an ax, or the large bare-chested warrior hacking away at various evil-looking creatures with atape." "And I'm seriously thinking about changing sides again," complained Lucifer. "I'm obviously the one who needs a brain." "Don't be so hard on yourself, Lucy. Besides, I have an idea." Starbuck heard snickers from all around. "Yeah, yeah. I know you're all thinking I'm a synapse short of a neuron, but this is a great idea. I'm going to trial the first viper headlight. Full beam, bulb-head!" "Starbuck, usually the stars light our way." Boomer told him. "Our scanners don't work too badly either for a little guidance when we need it, Buddy." Apollo added. "Duh!" Starbuck replied sarcastically. "What is this, pick-on-Starbuck-day?" Boomer checked his chrono," As a matter of fact, yup." "C'mon, guys, just listen to me." "Starbuck, it's awfully hard to take you seriously looking the way you do. At least take the funnel off your head, buddy." Apollo suggested. Starbuck sighed and threw the funnel down on the deck. "Fine. Forget it." "Buckster, tupid. How do you know that wrapping yourself in duct tape is going to provide adequate protection?" Apollo asked his friend as he watched him again wrap another layer around Lucifer who was by now stuck to the nose of the viper. "I saw it on Red Green." Starbuck replied. "If you have a game bird, I can dangle it behind one of my engines with a few metrons of chain and we'll have a nice meal by the time we land." Starbuck added as he looked around for his triad helmet. "Allow me, Tin Man." Belloby told him and deposited a silver funnel on top of his head, point up, of course. "You realize that the heat of the engine would incinerate the game bird, you nincompoop." "Ah, so you're saying I need a longer chain," Starbuck suggested. "I'm suggesting you need a brain, Tin Man!" Belloby responded. "Lords, why is it the cute ones are so dimwitted?" "Starbuck, I'm serious. Come in the mini-shuttle with us and we can get a tow rope for Lucifer... after all, we're all out of duct blood-spattered broadsword made, of course, no sense to her whatsoever, but we thought we'd keep you fully informed, regardless. "Hey!" said another voice. It was Igraine, surrounded by all Vela's other kids. "Would you folks hop back through the vortex, and be quick about it? We've got a Tribunal date with Sire Solon. Ya wanna get slapped with a FTA?" * * * * * "Oh, and one other thing," added Starbuck. "Why is there an altar with a dagger on it in here?" WHY is there an altar next to Starbuck? HOW did Igraine open the vortex? (Or did she?) WILL Iblis get cleaned up anytime soon? WHAT about Dibley and the rest of the baddies? WHY was Blip holding a piece of chartreuse carpeting? CAN Moore ever find his contact in his drink? WILL Lucifer find Baltar? (and why?) WILL they make it back to the Galactica before Colonel Tigh recieves more re- writes? WHY is everything Starbuck sees in black-and-white? WILL he finally get any? WHY doesn't Sire Uri drink...wine? For the ansdon't mope. It's unbecoming." Belloby soothed him. "Be a good boy and tell your friends about your... ...idea." "It's for landing in the dark. Come on, Apollo. I've seen you just about take out large trees while landing in the dark." "Maybe he's onto something, after all." Apollo muttered. "Okay, Bucko. Look, if you wanna fly the viper and test out your head light, fine. Just stay the frack out of my scene. This one is supposed to be about me and, as usual, you're stealing my thunder." Starbuck nodded solemnly and climbed into his viper. "Good, everybody into the mini-shuttle. We need to get out of here." Apollo directed confidently and captainly. "Oh, I love it when he takes control," whispered the blonde woman to Belloby as they piled into her mini. Boomer climber in beside... whats-her-name. Belloby stretched her legs out on the bench seat behind them, thereby, forcing Apollo and Baltar to climb into the rear. "So, how do you like my mini?" stape." "And I'm seriously thinking about changing sides again," complained Lucifer. "I'm obviously the one who needs a brain." "Don't be so hard on yourself, Lucy. Besides, I have an idea." Starbuck heard snickers from all around. "Yeah, yeah. I know you're all thinking I'm a synapse short of a neuron, but this is a great idea. I'm going to trial the first viper headlight. Full beam, bulb-head!" "Starbuck, usually the stars light our way." Boomer told him. "Our scanners don't work too badly either for a little guidance when we need it, Buddy." Apollo added. "Duh!" Starbuck replied sarcastically. "What is this, pick-on-Starbuck-day?" Boomer checked his chrono," As a matter of fact, yup." "C'mon, guys, just listen to me." "Starbuck, it's awfully hard to take you seriously looking the way you do. At least take the funnel off your head, buddy." Apollo suggested. Starbuck sighed and threw the funnel down on the deck. "Fine. Forget it." "Buckster, wers to these and a mong-load of other questions that have nothing whatsoever to do with either Ni-Cad batteries or re-runs of Johnny Quest, don't miss (in other words, shoot straight!) the next post-metabolic biomass impacted episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear the huge muscle-bound warrior say, "Ve zhall zee!" ======= The Dukes Of Hazzard Line Up For Gas will not be seen at this time. In its place, we present the following show, which will probably tank. ======= When last we left our heroes, Count Iblis had been dumped on by the flying equus, Hummer was trying to get everyone back to the ship, Sire Solon was waiting to begin the Tribunal on Apollo being a dead-beat dad, Starbuck was dreaming (or was he?), and there were a lot of hot, pneumatic-bosomed babes in evidence. Glad you approve. So, here we go with the next salubriously monotonous episode of the Starbuck Chronicles. (We'll get to the end of this thing, eventually, folks. Promise!) he asked Boomer as she adjusted her rear-view mirror, another apparent improvement on the original full sized model. "Must make finding a parking space much easier," Boomer noted as he looked around. He really liked the cup holders for the pilot and co-pilot. "How's it look from back there, Apollo?" "WELL... " Apollo and Baltar put their heads together and raised their arms dramatically, "she ain't got a backseat or a rear window...but she still gets me where I wanna...GO!!!" They sang at the tops of their lungs. "Frack, here we go again." Boomer griped. "So, what do you do?" he asked the blonde woman. "Oh, well, I work my homestead with my son, Puppis, and I sell veeta." She replied. "What kind of veeta?" Boomer asked. It had been a long time since he had fresh veeta. "Vella-veeta." Vella responded. * * * * * Stay tuned for the next episode so we can drag out yet again what that smell is in Adama's closet...and ,of course, find out what Vella wants witdon't mope. It's unbecoming." Belloby soothed him. "Be a good boy and tell your friends about your... ...idea." "It's for landing in the dark. Come on, Apollo. I've seen you just about take out large trees while landing in the dark." "Maybe he's onto something, after all." Apollo muttered. "Okay, Bucko. Look, if you wanna fly the viper and test out your head light, fine. Just stay the frack out of my scene. This one is supposed to be about me and, as usual, you're stealing my thunder." Starbuck nodded solemnly and climbed into his viper. "Good, everybody into the mini-shuttle. We need to get out of here." Apollo directed confidently and captainly. "Oh, I love it when he takes control," whispered the blonde woman to Belloby as they piled into her mini. Boomer climber in beside... whats-her-name. Belloby stretched her legs out on the bench seat behind them, thereby, forcing Apollo and Baltar to climb into the rear. "So, how do you like my mini?" s *************** "So this is what the altar is for." Starbuck murmured, feeling very much as though he was being worshipped by the ladies... nay, goddesses surrounding him. Their hands were all over him, stroking his skin as they slowly, teasingly, removed the leathers. One of them nibbled on his left index finger after removing the gloves. "Lords... " He tried to sit up and embrace her, but she gently pushed him back down. "Don't worry, Starbuck. We'll take care of you." He sighed, surrendering to their ministrations. The Oklatexan leaned over him, whispering in his ear. "This is to give you strength." She kissed him deeply. /Give me strength/!, he thought as his arms pulled her close. He could still feel the tantalizing touch of the others as they continued to caress him. It was incredibly erotic having a group of women undress him as another kissed him passionately. His boot dropped to the ground. "Now, now, remember you have to share." A pointed tap on the sh Apollo...and you will most definitely hear Starbuck say, "Aaarrrgggghhhhh!" * * * * * When last we escap....uh left our heroes, they had encountered a mysterious hot sexy gorgeous blonde woman, aboard what they thought was a Cylon BaseShip. Instead, it was a Cylon BaseShip with a mini-shuttle where the landing bay was supposed to be. Oh, and did I forget to mention...there's a huge gap where the bulkheads used to be, and they can see a planet that is, most definately, NOT Atilla? Okay, now that we have THAT all straight, we now return you to our highly erratic and seriously lacking in continuity show. ======= And now..... Starbuck Chronicles-Part 44 "Vela-veeta?" asked Baltar. The woman nodded. "Lords, that is just soooo cheesy." "You said it, Balls," replied Starbuck. "But I wouldn't spread it around too much, if I were you." As he adjusted his new clothes, he was nearly knocked off his feet by a small child, emerging from behind the woman and running towarhe asked Boomer as she adjusted her rear-view mirror, another apparent improvement on the original full sized model. "Must make finding a parking space much easier," Boomer noted as he looked around. He really liked the cup holders for the pilot and co-pilot. "How's it look from back there, Apollo?" "WELL... " Apollo and Baltar put their heads together and raised their arms dramatically, "she ain't got a backseat or a rear window...but she still gets me where I wanna...GO!!!" They sang at the tops of their lungs. "Frack, here we go again." Boomer griped. "So, what do you do?" he asked the blonde woman. "Oh, well, I work my homestead with my son, Puppis, and I sell veeta." She replied. "What kind of veeta?" Boomer asked. It had been a long time since he had fresh veeta. "Vella-veeta." Vella responded. * * * * * Stay tuned for the next episode so we can drag out yet again what that smell is in Adama's closet...and ,of course, find out what Vella wants withoulder had the Oklatexan withdrawing reluctantly. The Washatoman took her place, staring intently into Starbuck's eyes before leaning down. "This is to give you courage," she murmured before nipping his lower lip and then kissing him as she ran her hand through his hair." He wasn't sure why she thought he /needed/ courage, but his enjoyment of the moment soon erased that train of thought. He felt another boot pulled off. "My turn." The Washatoman pulled back, an self-satisfied grin on her face. "Are you having as much fun as I am?" she asked him. "More." He winked at her as he felt hands pull him to a sitting position and the leather jacket, which was now completely open, was eased off his shoulders. Another woman leaned in for a kiss. Starbuck sighed as he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her thoroughly. Lords, he must have died and found paradise. If he'd only known it was this good, he would have jumped off a winged-equine ages ago... or something like thads Apollo. "DADDY" said the toddler, throwing her tiny arms around Apollo. "Frack! Sheba's gonna kill me!" said Apollo, as Lucifer broke out into a loud belly laugh. ======= "Athena, it isn't what it looks like," said Adama. "I bought those for you mother a long time ago." "Back when she was DDD?" she replied, scowling at him. "I got those when we stopped once at Cordugo Pit, Athena!" "You told us you were freeing slaves on Cordugo Pit!" "Well, yes," stammered Adama. "But there was this lingerie shop, and..." "And?" "Well, it was on sale.." ======= They all tumbled in to Vela's mini, and the engines roared to life. As they shot out into space, Starbuck fell from his seat, smacking his tailbone on the floor. "Aaarrrgggghhhhh!" said Starbuck. "What about your Viper craft?" Lucifer asked. "Those snazzy fighters will be following by remote control, Bulb-Head," said Vela. "How can you be sure?" asked the IL Series Ch Apollo...and you will most definitely hear Starbuck say, "Aaarrrgggghhhhh!" * * * * * When last we escap....uh left our heroes, they had encountered a mysterious hot sexy gorgeous blonde woman, aboard what they thought was a Cylon BaseShip. Instead, it was a Cylon BaseShip with a mini-shuttle where the landing bay was supposed to be. Oh, and did I forget to mention...there's a huge gap where the bulkheads used to be, and they can see a planet that is, most definately, NOT Atilla? Okay, now that we have THAT all straight, we now return you to our highly erratic and seriously lacking in continuity show. ======= And now..... Starbuck Chronicles-Part 44 "Vela-veeta?" asked Baltar. The woman nodded. "Lords, that is just soooo cheesy." "You said it, Balls," replied Starbuck. "But I wouldn't spread it around too much, if I were you." As he adjusted his new clothes, he was nearly knocked off his feet by a small child, emerging from behind the woman and running towart. She drew back from him. "Skill," she grinned at him. "Thanks. You're not so bad yourself." He replied, absolutely loving them all. "Ahem." The BCbertan was standing at the foot of the altar tapping her foot, and wetting her lower lip as she watched him. She kneeled on the altar and crawled over his body until she was straddling his waist. "Pay attention now, Bucko. This is for numinous powers to defeat the Prince of Darkness." She leaned down, briefly grinning at his bemused expression, before claiming his lips with her own. A strange tingling was penetrating his body... and not /just /in the usual places. He did feel powerful. It was as if each kiss filled him with an inspiring energy. Now this `defeat the Prince of Darkness' thing was a bit much, sure, but if she wanted to work in a little fantasy of her own, he wasn't about to dissuade her. Once again he felt another woman draw back from him. She grinned at him and leaned in for one more kiss. "Hey!" Anotylon, looking behind them for signs of pursuit. "Because I've got the remote!" she replied, holding it up for him to see. "Gimme that!" snarled Belloby. She studied the device a few moments. "Say, can I get the IFB pay channels on this? I don't want to miss my soaps." "You have soaps too?" asked Lucifer. "Too? What do you mean?" "Well, I hate to miss a single episode of As The BaseShip Turns, myself." "Oh Lords!' moaned Baltar, and threw up in Apollo's lap. "Uh, sorry." "Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwww, grooooooooooooooooooooss!!!" said the toddler, still clinging to Apollo. "My name's May, by the`way." "Uhh...ummm..." "Mommy, he said that!" "I knew you'd say that, Apollo!" said Vela. Beep. "Okay, we're coming in for a landing!" "But I want to go back to the Fleet!" said Apollo. "We have to report our tylium findings to the Commander." He turned as Starbuck made a noise. "And I need some serious clean air." "Sheesh! Dead-beat dads!" said Lucifds Apollo. "DADDY" said the toddler, throwing her tiny arms around Apollo. "Frack! Sheba's gonna kill me!" said Apollo, as Lucifer broke out into a loud belly laugh. ======= "Athena, it isn't what it looks like," said Adama. "I bought those for you mother a long time ago." "Back when she was DDD?" she replied, scowling at him. "I got those when we stopped once at Cordugo Pit, Athena!" "You told us you were freeing slaves on Cordugo Pit!" "Well, yes," stammered Adama. "But there was this lingerie shop, and..." "And?" "Well, it was on sale.." ======= They all tumbled in to Vela's mini, and the engines roared to life. As they shot out into space, Starbuck fell from his seat, smacking his tailbone on the floor. "Aaarrrgggghhhhh!" said Starbuck. "What about your Viper craft?" Lucifer asked. "Those snazzy fighters will be following by remote control, Bulb-Head," said Vela. "How can you be sure?" asked the IL Series Cher cried in protest. "We have a schedule here!" Starbuck grinned at the Bcbertan. "What was that for?" "For the hell of it," she told him. "Hades," someone corrected her. "The King is here." The Washatoman told them. "King?" Starbuck asked, as he feared his fantasy was coming to an end. "There's a king involved in this?" "Yeah. He brought something for you." "But I'm a Democrat!" "It's okay," said another woman. "He's tolerant." He sat up on the altar, grinning as the woman promptly put her arms around his neck, nuzzling it as she sat on his lap. "You needed a... weapon, Starbuck." She squirmed deeper into his lap, grinning widely. "We decided to get you the best." * * * * * He had been separated from the Fleet for about as many episodes as it took to tragically lose Maggie as a co- writer. Here and now, staring Apollo in the face, was a quickie passage back home. "C'mon, move your astrums! Tribunal's in five centons." Igraine ser. "Watch it, Diode Breath!" said Apollo. "Apollo, which verse were we on?" asked Baltar. "And what happened to me being the center of this..." began Starbuck. "Whooooooooooooooo are you? Ooooo ooooo, oooo ooooo!" warbled Baltar. "Oh God!" sighed Boomer. ======= "What's that noise?" asked Athena, steamy teddie still in hand. "I found the sales slip!" offered Boxey. "From Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel and Fooling Around Periphenalia Emporium." "It sounds like an engine screaming right towards us," said Adama. "With a thirty-night return option," Boxey went on. "Boxey?" "Yes, Auntie Athena?" "Quit looking at those things!" "Uh oh!" said Adama ======= WHAT made Adama say "uh oh!"? WHERE are the escapees landing? WHO is the little girl? WHY did Adama keep the sales slip for the nighties, and did he REALLY get them on Cordugo Pit? WHAT is that noise? For the answers to whatever questions we remember to answer, join usylon, looking behind them for signs of pursuit. "Because I've got the remote!" she replied, holding it up for him to see. "Gimme that!" snarled Belloby. She studied the device a few moments. "Say, can I get the IFB pay channels on this? I don't want to miss my soaps." "You have soaps too?" asked Lucifer. "Too? What do you mean?" "Well, I hate to miss a single episode of As The BaseShip Turns, myself." "Oh Lords!' moaned Baltar, and threw up in Apollo's lap. "Uh, sorry." "Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwww, grooooooooooooooooooooss!!!" said the toddler, still clinging to Apollo. "My name's May, by the`way." "Uhh...ummm..." "Mommy, he said that!" "I knew you'd say that, Apollo!" said Vela. Beep. "Okay, we're coming in for a landing!" "But I want to go back to the Fleet!" said Apollo. "We have to report our tylium findings to the Commander." He turned as Starbuck made a noise. "And I need some serious clean air." "Sheesh! Dead-beat dads!" said Lucifhouted through the vortex as she reminded her deadbeat Dad that it was finally time to face the music over his lack of child support payments. In the background, her siblings chanted, "FTA, FTA, FTA..." "What's an FTA?" Boxey asked as he held tight to Apollo's hand, wondering who all these children were. "Well Boxey, it could be Federal Transit Administration or Freight Transport Administration, but I suspect in this instance it's `failure to appear'. Your Dad's gonna be in a bit of trouble if he doesn't go back to the /Galactica/." Boomer told him helpfully. "And so is his paycheck. Hades, they'll slap him with a wage garnishee right back to when he was riding his brand- spanking-new shiny, red velocipede with the heavy-duty training wheels and doing his first /Gazette/ route." "But all that stuff's back on Caprica. In ruins! The Cylons got it all." "You don't know these folks, Boxey," shuddered Boomer. "Dad, what's going on?" Boxey asked. "Apollo, you really next time for thenext gastroenterologically incontinent episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles." Tune in again, when we'll hear Athena say, "AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!" Part 45 When we last left our heroes... what the heck, it was just the other day, if you're actually reading this you'll likely remember... "Starbuck, are you going to get up off the floor?" Boomer asked. The Lieutenant had landed on his tailbone sometime ago, and though he was squirming around a lot, he didn't seem to be getting anywhere. "Boomer, I think I'm stuck." "How could you be stuck?" Lucifer asked. "You're on the floor of a mini shuttle!" "Well, there's a lot of old chewing gum down here... and a few old dirty nappies... I'm hoping it's the gum." Starbuck replied. "Starbuck, you're doing it again!" Apollo warned him from the backseat as little May did a merry jig on his lap. "What? Oh, and I think I might have broken my tailbone." Starbuck continued. He had felt a vicious er. "Watch it, Diode Breath!" said Apollo. "Apollo, which verse were we on?" asked Baltar. "And what happened to me being the center of this..." began Starbuck. "Whooooooooooooooo are you? Ooooo ooooo, oooo ooooo!" warbled Baltar. "Oh God!" sighed Boomer. ======= "What's that noise?" asked Athena, steamy teddie still in hand. "I found the sales slip!" offered Boxey. "From Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel and Fooling Around Periphenalia Emporium." "It sounds like an engine screaming right towards us," said Adama. "With a thirty-night return option," Boxey went on. "Boxey?" "Yes, Auntie Athena?" "Quit looking at those things!" "Uh oh!" said Adama ======= WHAT made Adama say "uh oh!"? WHERE are the escapees landing? WHO is the little girl? WHY did Adama keep the sales slip for the nighties, and did he REALLY get them on Cordugo Pit? WHAT is that noise? For the answers to whatever questions we remember to answer, join usshould go back and defend yourself," Athena told him. "Despite what everyone believes, and what the DNA tests said, it's not physiologically possible for you to be the father of Vela's other children. Not only are they far too old, since you landed on Equellus only about a yahren ago, but they range in ages. Unless, of course, you have some transmutable super-duper gonads that produce genetically enhanced gametes which accelerate the normal growth of the Human body." Apollo shifted uncomfortably as everyone looked in the general direction of his groin. Sheba grinned lecherously, waggling her eyebrows, and Vela wiped the drool from her chin. "Ah, the perfect offense!" Igraine yelled in victory, the vortex warbling around her. "Apollo, you really should go." Boomer nudged him, slightly uncomfortable with the new topic and the attention the Captain's gonads were getting. "Hummer could give you a ride on his he'enalu board." "That's my `vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, esnap as he landed on the floor... which was strange as the carpeting was deeply piled and sculpted... despite the nappies and gum it /was/ good quality... but the most revolting shade of chartreuse he had ever seen. "STARBUCK, STOP STEALING MY THUNDER!" Apollo roared from the bag seat. It had not been a good day for him. His lap was covered in Baltar's vomit, he had just been introduced to a toddler who Vela claimed belonged to him, and May was still doing a merry jig in his lap. Not only that, but he really needed to learn to keep his legs squeezed tightly together during such jigs. Oommpphh!!! Gaaaasssspppp! "Okay, we're coming in for a landing," Vela said. "I believe you already said that," Lucifer informed her. "Rush hour." Vela explained. "Where are we anyway?" Boomer asked. "Equallus?" Apollo squeaked from the backseat. "No, I had a little something I needed to pick up first on Cordugo Pit." Vela informed them. * * * * * Meanwhile, back in Ad next time for thenext gastroenterologically incontinent episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles." Tune in again, when we'll hear Athena say, "AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!" Part 45 When we last left our heroes... what the heck, it was just the other day, if you're actually reading this you'll likely remember... "Starbuck, are you going to get up off the floor?" Boomer asked. The Lieutenant had landed on his tailbone sometime ago, and though he was squirming around a lot, he didn't seem to be getting anywhere. "Boomer, I think I'm stuck." "How could you be stuck?" Lucifer asked. "You're on the floor of a mini shuttle!" "Well, there's a lot of old chewing gum down here... and a few old dirty nappies... I'm hoping it's the gum." Starbuck replied. "Starbuck, you're doing it again!" Apollo warned him from the backseat as little May did a merry jig on his lap. "What? Oh, and I think I might have broken my tailbone." Starbuck continued. He had felt a vicious ama's closet... or coming out of Adama's closet, depending on how you look at it... "That noise and that... smell... Lords, what is that smell???" Athena asked in horror. The smell had gone away for at least one episode, but now it was back and it was worse than ever before! "Athena, by the Lords of Kobol, stand back!" Adama insisted as he pulled Boxey by lassoing him with a particularly stretchy silk stocking out of harms way. "Father, I'm not afraid of your underwear!" Athena told him as she reached up to the top shelf where a box sat. The box was smoking, screeching and emitting the terrible odour... which was mightily impressive for cardboard. "It's your mother's!" Adama insisted. "I told you, I bought it on sale and was going to take it to a particularly talented seamstress to do a few alterations... I just never quite got around to it." "Yeah, sure old man. Say it enough times and maybe Boxey will believe it." Athena muttered. "No, I won't." Boxey replied. l-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the /McGarrett Rocks/! sticker on the underside', Boom-Boom." Hummer corrected him. "But Boomer, what about Starbuck? He needs medical attention. He should go back to the /Galactica/, not me." "I believe Starbuck has a... higher calling right now, Buddy." Boomer told him, looking skyward. "Yeah, right." Apollo replied, remembering the image of the lovely women who surrounded him in the apparent separate dimension he was currently in. "Well, part of him seems to be quite...elevated. By the looks of the grin on his face, I'd say it's his usual calling." He bit his lip as Cassiopeia stared dirks at him... Dirk as Starbuck, Dirk as Faceman, Dirk in Scavenger Hunt, oh and even the horribly mutated Dirk in /Ssssssss/... "Hey, stop dirking around!" Apollo cried, holding up his hands in self-defense. "Go Apollo. Starbuck will battle Iblis." Boomer reassured him. As much as that thought filled him equally with horror and an incrediblesnap as he landed on the floor... which was strange as the carpeting was deeply piled and sculpted... despite the nappies and gum it /was/ good quality... but the most revolting shade of chartreuse he had ever seen. "STARBUCK, STOP STEALING MY THUNDER!" Apollo roared from the bag seat. It had not been a good day for him. His lap was covered in Baltar's vomit, he had just been introduced to a toddler who Vela claimed belonged to him, and May was still doing a merry jig in his lap. Not only that, but he really needed to learn to keep his legs squeezed tightly together during such jigs. Oommpphh!!! Gaaaasssspppp! "Okay, we're coming in for a landing," Vela said. "I believe you already said that," Lucifer informed her. "Rush hour." Vela explained. "Where are we anyway?" Boomer asked. "Equallus?" Apollo squeaked from the backseat. "No, I had a little something I needed to pick up first on Cordugo Pit." Vela informed them. * * * * * Meanwhile, back in Ad urge to break into a giggle fit, he knew the Captain had to leave. "Take Vela too. Maybe after all we've been through, she'll be willing to be honest with the Tribunal." "Oh, and don't forget your kid." Belloby added. "You should really watch him a little more carefully. He's always getting into these dangerous, needs-to-be-saved type situations. Lack of parental guidance, if you ask me." "That's what I've been claiming all along." Igraine averred, arms crossed. "But /I/ should be the one battling Iblis. /I'm/ the Captain. I'm the heroic..." "Tell it to the writers, Apollo. And those women in the parallel dimension groping Starbuck." Boomer again looked skyward. Starbuck was now stretched out across the altar with the women slowly removing the black leather clinging to his body so damn deliciously. They caressed his firm, warm, toned, rippling muscles, hands replacing the bovine skin. Hmm... oh, right. Write something. Anyhow... "Lucky son-of-a-daggit." Apollo muttama's closet... or coming out of Adama's closet, depending on how you look at it... "That noise and that... smell... Lords, what is that smell???" Athena asked in horror. The smell had gone away for at least one episode, but now it was back and it was worse than ever before! "Athena, by the Lords of Kobol, stand back!" Adama insisted as he pulled Boxey by lassoing him with a particularly stretchy silk stocking out of harms way. "Father, I'm not afraid of your underwear!" Athena told him as she reached up to the top shelf where a box sat. The box was smoking, screeching and emitting the terrible odour... which was mightily impressive for cardboard. "It's your mother's!" Adama insisted. "I told you, I bought it on sale and was going to take it to a particularly talented seamstress to do a few alterations... I just never quite got around to it." "Yeah, sure old man. Say it enough times and maybe Boxey will believe it." Athena muttered. "No, I won't." Boxey replied. "/Grandpa wears Grandma's underwear. Grandpa wears Grandma's underwear./" He recited in a sing song voice. Athena took the box down. It was covered in a millimetron of dust. She wiped the dust away to reveal a solid layer of duct tape sealing the top in place. Once again on the top of the box was printed, From Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel and Fooling Around Paraphernalia Emporium. She looked hard at Adama. She just wasn't sure she wanted to know. She ripped off the duct tape and tore off the lid to reveal a dramatically overheated and partially melted... "AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! It's gonna blow!!!!!!" "Lords, if only..." * * * * * The mini-shuttle bumped in for a landing. "Shuttle pilot," Starbuck jeered from the floor. Vela simply reached back, grabbed a piece of duct tape that extended down his chest and ripped! "Aaaarrrrgggghhhh!" Starbuck screamed. "I like how this girl thinks. Look Darlin, I'm setting up this little social club called `the Leaered. "And I want mine back!" said Boxey. "Ahem!!" Sheba interjected. "Uh... yeah. I should be going." Apollo told them, picking up Boxey and grabbing Vela by the hand. "Ready Hummer?" "Definitely, Dudes and dudettes." Hummer replied, aiming his he'enalu board for the vortex and, ultimately, the /Galactica/. "All aboard!" "How can we all possibly fit on this board?" asked Sheba. "Hey," replied Hummer, adjusting his trenchcoat. "It's a kind of magic!" "Uh, I don't...ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" * * * * * In front of Starbuck stood an imposing figure, his grey beard trimmed neatly. He wore a heavy garment over his tunic, which upon closer inspection seemed to be a kind of body armour with small metal rings linking it together. He carried a round shield, archaic to Starbuck's eyes, and his sword hung sheathed at his side. "Ah, the errant knight." He nodded at Starbuck. "Rise." For the first time since he had arrived in this st"/Grandpa wears Grandma's underwear. Grandpa wears Grandma's underwear./" He recited in a sing song voice. Athena took the box down. It was covered in a millimetron of dust. She wiped the dust away to reveal a solid layer of duct tape sealing the top in place. Once again on the top of the box was printed, From Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel and Fooling Around Paraphernalia Emporium. She looked hard at Adama. She just wasn't sure she wanted to know. She ripped off the duct tape and tore off the lid to reveal a dramatically overheated and partially melted... "AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! It's gonna blow!!!!!!" "Lords, if only..." * * * * * The mini-shuttle bumped in for a landing. "Shuttle pilot," Starbuck jeered from the floor. Vela simply reached back, grabbed a piece of duct tape that extended down his chest and ripped! "Aaaarrrrgggghhhh!" Starbuck screamed. "I like how this girl thinks. Look Darlin, I'm setting up this little social club called `the League of LusciousLecherous Lascivious Ladies'. Would you be at all interested in joining?" Siress Belloby asked Vela. "What do you do there?" Vela asked. "Well, this duct tape game strikes me as a lot of fun for a start," Belloby returned. She grabbed a piece of duct tape and ripped. "Aaaarrrrgggghhhh!" Starbuck screamed again. Lords, what was I thinking? Wait just a frackin' centon. Wasn't I supposed to be flying my viper with Lucifer taped to her nose? Isn't that why I wrapped myself from head to toe with duct tape to simulate a pressure suit to begin with? There wasn't supposed to be enough room for all of us in the mini-shuttle... which is undoubtedly why you're sitting on the floor, Bucko! He desperately forced his body upward and could feel the supergluey substance beneath him giving way. "Aaaarrrrgggghhhh!" Starbuck screamed again as the pain in his astrum grew to excruciating heights as he rose which was a definitive diagnosis for a fractured tailbone... as anyone whorange place, this other realm, Starbuck felt uncomfortable. He was suddenly thankful he still had his leather pants intact. After all, when standing before royalty, it was preferable NOT to be butt naked. "Uh..." he rose to his feet, gently disengaging the beautiful woman on his lap. "I bequeath unto thee Excalibur, in faith that she will defend thee well and true. Once thou hast destroyed Beelzebub, thou must return her posthaste. Understandest thou what I say, Sir Starbuck?" The King asked, thrusting the sheathed weapon into his hand. Strangely, an image of a gambling chancery in the shape of a castle entered his mind. He and Excalibur might just get along all right, after all. "Well... but... " Still, he was getting a bad feeling about all this. He didn't have the first clue what to do with a sword. Hades, maybe it shot laser bolts. He sure hoped so. "Aren't you supposed to knight him or something?" asked one of the women, her white gown fighting a losing battle withgue of LusciousLecherous Lascivious Ladies'. Would you be at all interested in joining?" Siress Belloby asked Vela. "What do you do there?" Vela asked. "Well, this duct tape game strikes me as a lot of fun for a start," Belloby returned. She grabbed a piece of duct tape and ripped. "Aaaarrrrgggghhhh!" Starbuck screamed again. Lords, what was I thinking? Wait just a frackin' centon. Wasn't I supposed to be flying my viper with Lucifer taped to her nose? Isn't that why I wrapped myself from head to toe with duct tape to simulate a pressure suit to begin with? There wasn't supposed to be enough room for all of us in the mini-shuttle... which is undoubtedly why you're sitting on the floor, Bucko! He desperately forced his body upward and could feel the supergluey substance beneath him giving way. "Aaaarrrrgggghhhh!" Starbuck screamed again as the pain in his astrum grew to excruciating heights as he rose which was a definitive diagnosis for a fractured tailbone... as anyone who has ever broken their astrum can attest to. "I have a bone mender in the glove compartment if anyone wants to have a go." Vela suggested. "Not me." Boomer replied distastefully. "Sorry, Bucko." "I think not," Lucifer declined. "Nope," Apollo added. Baltar just stared open mouthed. "I think I'm going to throw up again!" And he did. On Apollo. "Sorry, bout that." "I'd be glad to help you out, sweet-cheeks." Belloby leered at Starbuck. She cackled gleefully for old times sake. "Uh, I think I'll pass, thanks all the same." Starbuck demurred. "Wait just a centon," Apollo yelled. "Didn't we already do a butt episode?" "Yeah, it was Starbuck's butt that time too if I recall correctly." Boomer replied sullenly. "Guys, you keep forgetting, it's called the Starbuck Chronicles. Not the Apollo Chronicles, not the Boomer Chronicles, not the Chronicles of Narnia. Do you get it?" Starbuck replied. "For that, we leave him in the van... I mean, mini-sh has ever broken their astrum can attest to. "I have a bone mender in the glove compartment if anyone wants to have a go." Vela suggested. "Not me." Boomer replied distastefully. "Sorry, Bucko." "I think not," Lucifer declined. "Nope," Apollo added. Baltar just stared open mouthed. "I think I'm going to throw up again!" And he did. On Apollo. "Sorry, bout that." "I'd be glad to help you out, sweet-cheeks." Belloby leered at Starbuck. She cackled gleefully for old times sake. "Uh, I think I'll pass, thanks all the same." Starbuck demurred. "Wait just a centon," Apollo yelled. "Didn't we already do a butt episode?" "Yeah, it was Starbuck's butt that time too if I recall correctly." Boomer replied sullenly. "Guys, you keep forgetting, it's called the Starbuck Chronicles. Not the Apollo Chronicles, not the Boomer Chronicles, not the Chronicles of Narnia. Do you get it?" Starbuck replied. "For that, we leave him in the van... I mean, mini-shuttle." Huffed Boomer. They filed out to the sidewalk leaving Starbuck adhered to the floor. "Nice parallel parking job." Boomer told Vela. "Thanks. She's very maneuverable for a mini." Apollo looked up from the child clinging to his leg to see `Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel and Fooling Around Paraphernalia Emporium'. "What are we doing here?" "Well, I have a side business in intergalactic deliveries. One of my customers faxed me the receipt for an item he wasn't satisfied with. I'm here to get his cubits back." Vela explained. "Just goes to show it's always a good idea to keep your receipt." Suddenly, a great roar was heard from behind them as the mini-shuttle was shuttlejacked taking Starbuck with it. "Boomer, they took Starbuck!" Apollo cried. "Yeah, good riddance, Bucko!" Boomer grinned evilly as maniacal laughter filled the air. Stay tuned for the next nauseating episode of the Starbuck Chronicles in which we FINALLY discover what that smel her voluptuous breasts for supremacy. "Oh, right." The King pushed on Starbuck's shoulder until he was kneeling on the ground. He then lifted the sword, and touched it to Starbuck's shoulders. "I dub thee Sir Facem..." "Starbuck!" said the Oklatexan, waving her pink pages. "Oh, right. Sir Starbuck! Rise, Sir Starbuck!" ordered the King. Starbuck grinned, looking down. "I mean to thy feet!" Starbuck got up. "Here, receive Excalibur, Sir Knight. Mayest thous wield her in..." He stopped as Starbuck rather hurriedly adjusted his leather pants . "I don't have all day. Are we in agreement?" The King asked again. "Sure." Starbuck replied after a not-so-gentle nudge from his posse. "Sign here, Starbuck." One of the woman held up a document. "Can I borrow your pendragon, Art?" She asked the King. "Of a certainty, My Lady," he replied, handing it over, goosequill, inkwell and all. "It just guarantees you'll return it in good condition if you're still alive," she exuttle." Huffed Boomer. They filed out to the sidewalk leaving Starbuck adhered to the floor. "Nice parallel parking job." Boomer told Vela. "Thanks. She's very maneuverable for a mini." Apollo looked up from the child clinging to his leg to see `Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel and Fooling Around Paraphernalia Emporium'. "What are we doing here?" "Well, I have a side business in intergalactic deliveries. One of my customers faxed me the receipt for an item he wasn't satisfied with. I'm here to get his cubits back." Vela explained. "Just goes to show it's always a good idea to keep your receipt." Suddenly, a great roar was heard from behind them as the mini-shuttle was shuttlejacked taking Starbuck with it. "Boomer, they took Starbuck!" Apollo cried. "Yeah, good riddance, Bucko!" Boomer grinned evilly as maniacal laughter filled the air. Stay tuned for the next nauseating episode of the Starbuck Chronicles in which we FINALLY discover what that smell and the noise is in Adama's closet. No really. He's going to tell you this time for sure. Really. Just stick with us. There really is a point to all of this... well, maybe I shouldn't go that far. We'll also explore what has come over Boomer and we'll pray it has nothing to do with lingerie. We now return to our special feature, "As Storylines Cross." ======= And NOW, the next digestivelly challenging episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". ======= The Starbuck Chronicles, Part 46 "OH MY GOD!" said Starbuck. "I'm being shuttlejacked!" "OH MY GOD!" said Apollo. "Starbuck is being shuttlejacked!" "No mong, Megabrain," muttered Lucifer. "My lights fairly dim beside the radiance of your genius." "Lucifer?" said Apollo, sweetly. "Yes, Captain Apollo?" replied the IL Series. "Remember our conversation a while back? The one about your diodes and optical sensors?" "Apollo, you're a mess. Here, let me dust off that uniform." "Yeah." "What wplained as she put it in Starbuck's hand. "Still alive?" Starbuck asked with wide eyes, scrawling his signature after a poke in the side by another woman. Yeah, this whole sexual fantasy thing had really deteriorated. Can't go much further downhill than that. He looked down again. Yeah. "Don't worry, Bucko. We're gonna put you through some training before you take on Count Iblis. We want you to be ready." "Uh... isn't this Apollo's job? After all, /he's/ the Captain." They laughed at this. "C'mon Starbuck, it's your time to step up to the plate. Besides, we thought that a sword fight with the Devil would be kind of sexy. Especially, with you in black leather." "Yeah, the only thing better than Starbuck in black leather..." "... is Starbuck in nothing." They all laughed lecherously. "Uh, then why did you spend so much time taking my clothes off? Not that I minded, you understand." Once again, he was thankful for the remaining pants. "Sweat, sweetchl and the noise is in Adama's closet. No really. He's going to tell you this time for sure. Really. Just stick with us. There really is a point to all of this... well, maybe I shouldn't go that far. We'll also explore what has come over Boomer and we'll pray it has nothing to do with lingerie. We now return to our special feature, "As Storylines Cross." ======= And NOW, the next digestivelly challenging episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". ======= The Starbuck Chronicles, Part 46 "OH MY GOD!" said Starbuck. "I'm being shuttlejacked!" "OH MY GOD!" said Apollo. "Starbuck is being shuttlejacked!" "No mong, Megabrain," muttered Lucifer. "My lights fairly dim beside the radiance of your genius." "Lucifer?" said Apollo, sweetly. "Yes, Captain Apollo?" replied the IL Series. "Remember our conversation a while back? The one about your diodes and optical sensors?" "Apollo, you're a mess. Here, let me dust off that uniform." "Yeah." "What was that maniacal laughter?" asked Belloby. "What maniacla laughter?" asked Vela. "The maniacal laughter we all just heard, that was promised to be explained in the last episode." "Oh. That maniacal laughter," said Vela. "That was just the fire alarm." "Mommy!' shouted several young voices, as they enetred Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel and Fooling Around Paraphenalia Emporium. Vela looked over to see several small children, none older than about three, racing towards her from the Sire Uri's Corruption of Innocent Young Souls and Delinquency Through Mindless and Morally Questionable Video Games Arcade. Vela threw her arms wide, and embraced them. "Where have you been?" "Finding a fax machine that worked," replied the woman. "Oh, Apollo? This is Sela," she said, indicating one child, "and this is Igraine, and this is Bootes." "I was named for my uncle," said the boy. "Now kids, what do you say to Apollo?" prompted Vela. "Daddy!" said Sela. "Daddy!" seeks," one of them replied cackling leacherously, reminiscent of Belloby. "Don't want to ruin the suit, after all. Leather's expensive, you know. Just ask Mrs. Peel. Ah, here'r the boys now." A tall man wearing buckskins, a coonskin cap and carrying an ax, came into view alongside a large bare-chested warrior with a blood-spattered broadsword. Within microns, the King had departed ( "Tell Gwennie hi!" the girls chirped as he mounted his equus to leave. "Love to Merle!"), after a rousing chorus of /Happy Grails To You,/ and the others had taken his place. For no reason Starbuck could fathom, the man in buckskins had a huge blue bovine next to him. He wondered if the Zohrlochs raised cattle, too. "Boys, this is Starbuck. We need you to give him a crash course in mortal combat." "My feet are killing me," the man in buckskins told them as he sized up the somewhat puny specimen before him. "Blisters, Paul?" the BCbertan asked. "Bunyons," he replied. "What do you thias that maniacal laughter?" asked Belloby. "What maniacla laughter?" asked Vela. "The maniacal laughter we all just heard, that was promised to be explained in the last episode." "Oh. That maniacal laughter," said Vela. "That was just the fire alarm." "Mommy!' shouted several young voices, as they enetred Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel and Fooling Around Paraphenalia Emporium. Vela looked over to see several small children, none older than about three, racing towards her from the Sire Uri's Corruption of Innocent Young Souls and Delinquency Through Mindless and Morally Questionable Video Games Arcade. Vela threw her arms wide, and embraced them. "Where have you been?" "Finding a fax machine that worked," replied the woman. "Oh, Apollo? This is Sela," she said, indicating one child, "and this is Igraine, and this is Bootes." "I was named for my uncle," said the boy. "Now kids, what do you say to Apollo?" prompted Vela. "Daddy!" said Sela. "Daddy!" said Bootes. "Deadbeat," said Igraine. "I mean you never came when mom was pregnant, you weren't there when we were born. Child support? Noooooooooooooooooo, of course not." She crossed her arms angrily. "Igraine! Mind your manners!" gasped Vela. "Well, I have been kind of busy," spluttered Apollo. Oh God!!!! "I'll say," chortled Boomer evilly, examining a piece of slinky undies that had somehow ended up in Apollo's hip pocket. "Boomer, you have a decidedly evil-looking aura about you just now," said Lucifer. "Auras? Since when do Cylons see auras?" replied Boomer suspiciously. "Since we were equipped to see in all bands of the spectrum, not just your limited visible light." "Oh," said Boomer. "Gotta remember that." "Card for my birthday?" Igraine was going on. "Hades Hole, no!" "Well, Apollo," smiled Baltar, "it would seem you have some explaining to do." "Mom," said Bootes, chewing on something noisily. "Yes, son?" "I wonk? Can you get him into shape for Iblis?" the Oklatexan enquired. "Ve zhall zee!" the muscle bound warrior replied, flexing his pecs as he wiped his bloody sword off. "Ve zhall zee." "Ladies, can I at least have my boots back?" Starbuck asked beseechingly as his stomach acid started to rise up his throat. "And maybe some Gaviscon?" /Here/ "/Thanks," Starbuck told the Butler Guy. WILL Starbuck survive the duel with Count Iblis? WILL the supporting cast make it back to the Galactica in time for the Tribunal? DO the Zohrlochs really raise bovines? IF not, HOW do we explain Paul Bunyon's blue bovine? WILL Paul find a decent podiatrist? WHICH Starbuckian has voluptuous breasts? WILL Boxey get Muffit back? WHAT is going on at the golf course? WILL Tigh wait just a bit longer? For the answer to one or possibly two of the questions, if you're lucky--since we really don't read the previous chapter when working on the current one--stay tuned for the next deliriously combataid Bootes. "Deadbeat," said Igraine. "I mean you never came when mom was pregnant, you weren't there when we were born. Child support? Noooooooooooooooooo, of course not." She crossed her arms angrily. "Igraine! Mind your manners!" gasped Vela. "Well, I have been kind of busy," spluttered Apollo. Oh God!!!! "I'll say," chortled Boomer evilly, examining a piece of slinky undies that had somehow ended up in Apollo's hip pocket. "Boomer, you have a decidedly evil-looking aura about you just now," said Lucifer. "Auras? Since when do Cylons see auras?" replied Boomer suspiciously. "Since we were equipped to see in all bands of the spectrum, not just your limited visible light." "Oh," said Boomer. "Gotta remember that." "Card for my birthday?" Igraine was going on. "Hades Hole, no!" "Well, Apollo," smiled Baltar, "it would seem you have some explaining to do." "Mom," said Bootes, chewing on something noisily. "Yes, son?" "I won four cubits!" "You did?" "Uh huh. I played the Miss Hooters Target Practice Game." "I...see." "And a bottle of ambrosia for a bovine's eye on her left..." "And speaking of Starbuck," said Belloby. "Indeed," said Lucifer. "Where the felcercarb am I going?" shouted Starbuck, as he looked out the miniv...uh, shuttle's main viewports. But instead of stars, he saw... "What the felcercarb is that?" said Boxey, as the box was opened. "Horrid!" shouted Athena, as she tossed it through the door into the corridor outside Adama's quarters. The vile smoke trailed across the room, and they heard it crash to the floor, accompanied by a horrid grunt of surprise. The door closed just in time, as the corridor was filled with a loud... "Nice color contrast, Boomer," said Belloby, holding up a particularly miniscule item of slinkiness to the Lieutenant. "Thanks, Bell," said Boomer, regarding himself in a mirror. "I wonder if blue would.ive part (69!!!!) of the Starbuck Chronicles when a taunt of "I take it you're not familiar with the Code Duello!" shall ring out from one dimension to the next. Or, if you're VERY lucky, you'll hear Hummer say, "There can be only one!" And, if you're less lucky, maybe you'll hear Starbuck say, "Terminate?" ======= The Blob Eats Peyton Place will not be seen at this time. In its place we present the following thoroughly offal program. ======= In the last utterly incoherant episode of the Starbuck Chronicles, our intrepidly hesitant hero was being personally prepped by the hand-picked, muscle-bound duo of Barbarian and Bunyon. Two men who happened to be sporting large, unwieldy weapons made for hacking the heads off Immortals, while they were wandering through the otherly worldness of another reality, aka Has-been Land. At this time, the unlikely trio were united by a force greater than the Ship of Lights, at least in their minds. They were called the Starbuckians.n four cubits!" "You did?" "Uh huh. I played the Miss Hooters Target Practice Game." "I...see." "And a bottle of ambrosia for a bovine's eye on her left..." "And speaking of Starbuck," said Belloby. "Indeed," said Lucifer. "Where the felcercarb am I going?" shouted Starbuck, as he looked out the miniv...uh, shuttle's main viewports. But instead of stars, he saw... "What the felcercarb is that?" said Boxey, as the box was opened. "Horrid!" shouted Athena, as she tossed it through the door into the corridor outside Adama's quarters. The vile smoke trailed across the room, and they heard it crash to the floor, accompanied by a horrid grunt of surprise. The door closed just in time, as the corridor was filled with a loud... "Nice color contrast, Boomer," said Belloby, holding up a particularly miniscule item of slinkiness to the Lieutenant. "Thanks, Bell," said Boomer, regarding himself in a mirror. "I wonder if blue would..." Suddenly, there was a terrible explosion. "What the fracking felcercarb was that?" cried Baltar, trying to get Lucifer off his lap. Since he was standing up, this made Lucifer's position even more untenable for the IL, and certainly more annoying for Baltar. "I think it was an explosion," said Apollo. "No regurgitation, Ravashol," muttered Lucifer. "I fairly..." "Diodes!" said Apollo. "Keep crushed diodes....and red hot soldering irons in the back of your mind, Lucifer." Baltar was going to tell Lucifer to stop kissing Apollo's boots, but then something happened. Athena and Adama cautiously approached the door, and the hatch slid open, apparently undamaged. Through the acrid smoke filling the corridor, they could both see Colonel Tigh, face and uniform covered in soot, with the cardboard box tangled around his neck, his left ear covered in duct tape and receipts. He opened his eyes, and looked at his CO. He gave Adama a pained look. "I can co Meanwhile, back in the usual space time continuum, Apollo, Vela, Sheba, and Boxey were swirling and twirling their way back through the wormhole on Hummer's vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside. Awaiting our illustrious Captain on the Galactica was a Tribunal which would determine the legal paternity (and child-support payments) of Vela's children ranging in apparent ages from 2 to 6 from his short stay on Equellus only a couple seasons ago. Yeah, I know, I can't believe it either, but wait until you see her case. Oh, and to maintain a vague semblance of utter discontinuity, Starbuck's body, still laid, inert and unresponsive as Cassiopeia, Boomer, Siress Belloby and assorted sundry characters watched the action vividly displayed against a brilliant backdrop of fiery, red clouds while still gathered in the Stygian depths of Hades Hole. For all they could do was watch and wait as the fat.." Suddenly, there was a terrible explosion. "What the fracking felcercarb was that?" cried Baltar, trying to get Lucifer off his lap. Since he was standing up, this made Lucifer's position even more untenable for the IL, and certainly more annoying for Baltar. "I think it was an explosion," said Apollo. "No regurgitation, Ravashol," muttered Lucifer. "I fairly..." "Diodes!" said Apollo. "Keep crushed diodes....and red hot soldering irons in the back of your mind, Lucifer." Baltar was going to tell Lucifer to stop kissing Apollo's boots, but then something happened. Athena and Adama cautiously approached the door, and the hatch slid open, apparently undamaged. Through the acrid smoke filling the corridor, they could both see Colonel Tigh, face and uniform covered in soot, with the cardboard box tangled around his neck, his left ear covered in duct tape and receipts. He opened his eyes, and looked at his CO. He gave Adama a pained look. "I can come back later if you're busy." "HEY!" said a small voice. They all looked down, to behold.... ======= WHAT??????????? did they behold, and to whom belongs the small voice? WHAT????? happened in Uri's place on Cordugo Pit, and WHAT was the explosion???? WILL Lucifer stop his lingual inspection of Apollo's footwear anytime soon????? WILL we EVER reveal what was in the box, and the source of the smell, like was promised at the end of LAST episode? WHAT is the source of Boomer's new aura? Well, we'll get around to all that, but first, we have some good news. I just saved a bunch of money on my car insurance by switching to Geico! Be sure to tune in next time, for the next turgidly antagonistical episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Be here, when we'll hear Starbuck say, "Chewing gum." ======= When we last visited our somewhat questionable heroes we were swept away by a myriad of cyclonic events that revealed Vela's additional three children, Boome of the universe was left in the hands of one man who would wield the mighty Excalibur against the most deadly of demons, the most beastly of Beelzebubs, the most dastardly of diablos-The Evil Count Iblis. "Hey, I just realized, this is part sixty-nine." Starbuck paused, his torso damp with sweat from wielding the sword that the King had loaned him. It had been an excruciating training session and, miraculously, the skills the Barbarian and Bunyon had taught him seemed to come naturally, his body strangely knowing what to do as he hefted the heavy weapon. He looked up at the mystical group of women who watched from the stands of the ancient arena, each of them cheering as his skill with the blade improved with each passing micron. "What about MacLeod?" the BCbertan asked. "Too busy Quickening." The Oklatexan replied. "What about part sixty-nine?" The Washatoman asked the Colonial Warrior. Her eyes feasted on the sight before her. A light sheeme back later if you're busy." "HEY!" said a small voice. They all looked down, to behold.... ======= WHAT??????????? did they behold, and to whom belongs the small voice? WHAT????? happened in Uri's place on Cordugo Pit, and WHAT was the explosion???? WILL Lucifer stop his lingual inspection of Apollo's footwear anytime soon????? WILL we EVER reveal what was in the box, and the source of the smell, like was promised at the end of LAST episode? WHAT is the source of Boomer's new aura? Well, we'll get around to all that, but first, we have some good news. I just saved a bunch of money on my car insurance by switching to Geico! Be sure to tune in next time, for the next turgidly antagonistical episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Be here, when we'll hear Starbuck say, "Chewing gum." ======= When we last visited our somewhat questionable heroes we were swept away by a myriad of cyclonic events that revealed Vela's additional three children, Boomer's mystical aura of evilnessnessness, Lucifer's boot-licking capacity, and Starbuck's abduction by mysterious... abductors. Oh, right, I think there was also an explosion in separate plot lines just to make it interesting and some innuendo about telling the reader `what' exploded in the cardboard box. Yeah, right, like I'm going to let myself get stuck with that one. The Starbuck Chronicles Part 47 "Where the felgercarb am I going?" shouted Starbuck, as he looked out the miniv...uh, shuttle's main viewports. But instead of stars, he saw... large, stately buildings as the mini shuttled down Main Street to the business district of Cordugo Pit... just recently developed, I might add. "Hey! Where are you taking me?" he yelled forward to the driver of the recently acquired vehicle. "Court," came the brisk reply from the unseen driver. "Court?? What the frack for?" Starbuck asked as he tried to pry his broken astrum off of the chartreuse carpet of the shuttle floor for the umn of sweat covered his ripplingly sculpted upper body, and he looked, oh soooo delicious in his black leather pants and boots. Oh, and throw in a bit of sword play and some recently imparted supernatural talents with his own natural athletic ability and he was the perfect package. Breathe, girls. Just breathe! "Well, I was just thinking that we should be doing something more apropos for this segment." He grinned suggestively at the women, his eyebrows quirking devilishly. "I agree." The Barbarian retorted. "Now, I vant to zee der horizontal cut delivered zixty-nine more times." "Followed by the vertical cut sixty-nine more times, y'all," Bunyon roared from his lazy boy chair while his podiatrist reduced his corns and imprinted his feet for orthopedic insoles. "Now about this bunionectomy... " "Ladies?" Starbuck beseeched them. Oh, he would so rather be doing something more...Kuma sutra in nature... or beyond. "Sorry, Bucko. Remember, the er's mystical aura of evilnessnessness, Lucifer's boot-licking capacity, and Starbuck's abduction by mysterious... abductors. Oh, right, I think there was also an explosion in separate plot lines just to make it interesting and some innuendo about telling the reader `what' exploded in the cardboard box. Yeah, right, like I'm going to let myself get stuck with that one. The Starbuck Chronicles Part 47 "Where the felgercarb am I going?" shouted Starbuck, as he looked out the miniv...uh, shuttle's main viewports. But instead of stars, he saw... large, stately buildings as the mini shuttled down Main Street to the business district of Cordugo Pit... just recently developed, I might add. "Hey! Where are you taking me?" he yelled forward to the driver of the recently acquired vehicle. "Court," came the brisk reply from the unseen driver. "Court?? What the frack for?" Starbuck asked as he tried to pry his broken astrum off of the chartreuse carpet of the shuttle floor for the umpteenth time. "There are charges for you to answer to." The harsh, raspy voice replied. Starbuck craned his neck to try and see the man, but his abductor was enrobed from head to toe in a black garment. All Starbuck could see was a pair of piecing black eyes staring back at him with disgust through the rear-view mirror... after all, every high-end mini has one. "What charges? What are you talking about?" "You have been charged with `elimination 2' and `unsanctioned use of duct tape'." The driver explained as he swerved into the nearest parking spot. /*This must be some kind of bizarre dream/*, Starbuck thought as he struggled to free himself. Within microns, the shuttle hatch opened and he found himself staring at his escort. The man was almost three metrons tall and had to hunch over uncomfortably as he grabbed the Lieutenant by the shoulders and attempted to hoist him out of the shuttle. "What in the Pit is holding you in place?" the man growled at Starbuck. "Cpteenth time. "There are charges for you to answer to." The harsh, raspy voice replied. Starbuck craned his neck to try and see the man, but his abductor was enrobed from head to toe in a black garment. All Starbuck could see was a pair of piecing black eyes staring back at him with disgust through the rear-view mirror... after all, every high-end mini has one. "What charges? What are you talking about?" "You have been charged with `elimination 2' and `unsanctioned use of duct tape'." The driver explained as he swerved into the nearest parking spot. /*This must be some kind of bizarre dream/*, Starbuck thought as he struggled to free himself. Within microns, the shuttle hatch opened and he found himself staring at his escort. The man was almost three metrons tall and had to hunch over uncomfortably as he grabbed the Lieutenant by the shoulders and attempted to hoist him out of the shuttle. "What in the Pit is holding you in place?" the man growled at Starbuck. "Cuniverse is at stake," the busty, but as yet unidentified one, reminded him. They're all busty, he wrote in the margins of his script. "Ah, the universe could wait an hour or two, couldn't it?" one of them pondered. Of course, the one on the left... The others looked at her balefully and someone muttered, "centar", knocking on her head. "Frack," she replied, letting out a deep breath of disappointment, and rubbing her head. "Exactly," Starbuck agreed. "Oh, and Starbuck, I just thought I'd mention it, Cassiopeia is watching," said Myrtle. "What?" He looked around, but saw no sign of his blonde lady. Hades, he hadn't seen her since... he couldn't remember when. Smack! "Oww!" "Why did you tell him that?" "Well, I was just being honest." "Bloody hell, uhhhhh....hades....this segment isn't going at all the way I had imagined." "Hey, I'm not responsible for passing out the re-wrhewing gum." * * * * * Adama, Athena and a smoldering Tigh looked down to find themselves staring at four small children. "Hey, did you get that at Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel and Fooling Around Paraphernalia Emporium?" May asked as she looked at the fragments of the previously whirring, smoking and pulsating piece of hidden contraband that was currently scattered all over the corridor outside Adama's quarters. "Lords of Kobol, where did these children come from?" Tigh asked in wonder as he removed the cardboard box that encircled his neck like a tribal headdress while peeling duct tape off his left ear. "From the loins of Captain Apollo, Sir." Bootes replied as he sized up the sooty officer. "WHAT??" Athena and Adama replied aghast. * * * * * "Where did our children go, Apollo?" Vela asked the Captain as she looked up from the fax machine in Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel and Fooling Around Paraphernalia Emporium. "How the frack could they be our chilites!" "You're telling me," Starbuck nodded as he started attacking the Barbarian once again, his moves repetitious, but each blow more forceful than the last. Hades, he was going to need some Ibuprofen in the morning. * * * * * The vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside, crashed to a halt, its occupants tumbling unceremoniously to the chambers of the High Tribunal. Inside awaited Apollo's fate... or at least the fate of his future paychecks. "Finally!" sighed Igraine, with a long-suffering flourish. "We were about to issue an FTA for you folks." "Hey, do you think I'd shirk my responsibilities?" asked Apollo, getting up and disentangling Borax's feet, now resembling green suede loafers, from his hair. (Sure, green suede doesn't go with the blue suit, especially with chartreuse laces, but it's an improvement.) "Good," said Igraine, leaning close and narrowing hdren?" Apollo threw up his hands. "I saw you several sectars ago and those children are at least three or four yahrens old!" Vela looked up in astonishment. Her eyes filled with tears. "Igraine was right, you are a deadbeat Dad!" She covered her face with her hands and began sobbing hysterically. "First you deny my children and then you... you lose them. Just wait until I tell Puppis what his hero has become." "Shame on you, Captain. Disgusting behavior." Belloby stated as she patted Vela on the shoulder. "I always knew he had it in him," Baltar stated as he nodded towards Apollo who was torn between comforting the distraught woman and smacking her one. "His father is the same. They seem so honourable and dependable, but they both have their deep, dark secrets." "Adama has deep, dark secrets?" Belloby raised her head and grinned. "Do tell, Baltar, Baby." "Well, he has this fetish for... " Baltar began. "Hi Dad," Boxey poked his head up from beneath an inexplicablyhewing gum." * * * * * Adama, Athena and a smoldering Tigh looked down to find themselves staring at four small children. "Hey, did you get that at Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel and Fooling Around Paraphernalia Emporium?" May asked as she looked at the fragments of the previously whirring, smoking and pulsating piece of hidden contraband that was currently scattered all over the corridor outside Adama's quarters. "Lords of Kobol, where did these children come from?" Tigh asked in wonder as he removed the cardboard box that encircled his neck like a tribal headdress while peeling duct tape off his left ear. "From the loins of Captain Apollo, Sir." Bootes replied as he sized up the sooty officer. "WHAT??" Athena and Adama replied aghast. * * * * * "Where did our children go, Apollo?" Vela asked the Captain as she looked up from the fax machine in Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel and Fooling Around Paraphernalia Emporium. "How the frack could they be our chiler eyes at her father. "Because next, we were gonna send Reese out to look for you!" "Commander!" said Apollo, looking towards the Tribunal. "Somebody. Shoot me." He looked back at Igraine's siblings. "Please?" "I don't think that's a likely outcome for being a deadbeat Dad, but we can pitch it to the Tribunal if you like." Bootes replied indifferently. "Mr. Bellisario, Mr. Larson, Mr. Moore, what do you think?" "What?" Apollo pivoted sharply on his heel, again staring at the dimly lit tribunal. "Who the frack are you? Where's my Father?" He looked up at Bootes. "I thought you were dead." "This is SciFi, Captain," said the bovine farmer, who until just then had been a small child named after his uncle. "Anything is possible. Especially when the writers forget what had happened in the previous episodes. Besides, Leonard Nimoy is a buddy of mine. And while we're at it, where's Face....uh, Starbuck?" "I still want to know where the Commander is!" insis arrived pile of oversized, outdated pile of lingerie that smelled strongly of Lepidoptera Balls and smoke. * * * * * Starbuck was propelled along a bright corridor until he found himself before two immense doors. He paused as the doors were opened by two equally enormous, darkly robed individuals who were holding scythes at their sides. "Wait just a centon, Grim, who's in charge here?" Starbuck demanded as he was once again roughly pushed forward. "I am." A hauntingly deep, gravelly voice echoed through the chamber. Starbuck squinted his eyes as he peered into the dimly lit chamber trying to make out the figure that was seated at the head of the tribunal. "Who are you? Ooo Ooo, Ooo Ooo." Starbuck wasn't sure what made him `Ooo' four times in succession, but suspected Apollo, Baltar and Senmut may have had something to do with it. "I am Memnoch." The voice replied. "You mean Memnon?" Starbuck asked, though he was a little hazy on who Memnon was not having readren?" Apollo threw up his hands. "I saw you several sectars ago and those children are at least three or four yahrens old!" Vela looked up in astonishment. Her eyes filled with tears. "Igraine was right, you are a deadbeat Dad!" She covered her face with her hands and began sobbing hysterically. "First you deny my children and then you... you lose them. Just wait until I tell Puppis what his hero has become." "Shame on you, Captain. Disgusting behavior." Belloby stated as she patted Vela on the shoulder. "I always knew he had it in him," Baltar stated as he nodded towards Apollo who was torn between comforting the distraught woman and smacking her one. "His father is the same. They seem so honourable and dependable, but they both have their deep, dark secrets." "Adama has deep, dark secrets?" Belloby raised her head and grinned. "Do tell, Baltar, Baby." "Well, he has this fetish for... " Baltar began. "Hi Dad," Boxey poked his head up from beneath an inexplicablyted Apollo, managing at last to stand up, and get Athena's teddy out of his left boot. "I'd say he'd be on the second fairway by now." Moore held up his glass. "Ya know, rewrites. Say, where'd that little Butler guy go? I'm empty. It's hard to get decent help these days. Especially at this time of year. Hey kid, how bout a drink?" "No problem, Mr. Moore," Igraine replied, steering the latest technological breakthrough, a hover drink tray with an array of fine spirits for his perusal and ultimate consumption. "Hey, you're drinking, and sitting on a High Tribunal?? My tribunal?" Apollo stuttered in dismay. "Well, why do you think they call it a `high' tribunal? Glen fell off once, but we got him a lap belt. He should be okay now. He's faschnickered you know." "Faschnickered?" Apollo asked. "Is that why he's covered in blinking red and green lights?" "Tis the season, Cap'n. Hic" Larson replied raising his glass, his holly wreath dipped dasd all of Episode Thirteen of the Virtual Season. He was waiting for the movie. "No, he's my brother. He has a better gig than me floating around in that fleet of his while I sit here in this dark room in this Wallaby Court deciding the fate of ingrates like yourself." Just then a large Marsupial hopped by on its large rear legs wearing boxing gloves. "I'm so fracked." Starbuck muttered as he again felt himself pushed forward. * * * * * "How could this have happened?" Adama asked as he looked down at the four blond children with vibrant green eyes that stared back at him. "I believe the explosion caused some kind of disturbance in our space-time continuum which seems to have opened a temporary wormhole that transported these children to the Galactica," Wilker muttered as he walked by eating a mushie. "Uh... thanks, but I meant how could have Apollo sired these children when we all perfectly well know that..." Adama started. "Wait, Father. Boxey is gone and so arrived pile of oversized, outdated pile of lingerie that smelled strongly of Lepidoptera Balls and smoke. * * * * * Starbuck was propelled along a bright corridor until he found himself before two immense doors. He paused as the doors were opened by two equally enormous, darkly robed individuals who were holding scythes at their sides. "Wait just a centon, Grim, who's in charge here?" Starbuck demanded as he was once again roughly pushed forward. "I am." A hauntingly deep, gravelly voice echoed through the chamber. Starbuck squinted his eyes as he peered into the dimly lit chamber trying to make out the figure that was seated at the head of the tribunal. "Who are you? Ooo Ooo, Ooo Ooo." Starbuck wasn't sure what made him `Ooo' four times in succession, but suspected Apollo, Baltar and Senmut may have had something to do with it. "I am Memnoch." The voice replied. "You mean Memnon?" Starbuck asked, though he was a little hazy on who Memnon was not having reahingly forward over one eye. "Just hear those Cylons jingle-ing, ring ting tingle- ing too, C'mon it's lovely weather to blow up a BaseShip with you!!" "This is ridiculous. You can't conduct a trial like this. You're making a mockery of the system." Apollo protested. "No more so than when they had your father sit on the Tribunal in Murder On The Rising Star. That was clearly a conflict of interest with Adama sitting in judgment of Starbuck." Igraine returned defiantly. "Igraine, a little respect please. That's your grandfather!" Vela interjected. "That was a military court," countered Apollo. "It was his place to sit on it." "C'mon, let's get going on this." Bellisario interrupted. "I've got an after-party." "When?" Sheba asked. "After," he replied, adjusting the setting on Larson's lights so they flickered in time to "Away In A Viper", which Glen was currently singing... badly. "I hereby declare this Tribunal in session." Moore banged his jingle is the lingerie!" Athena exclaimed. "Never mind that," Tigh interrupted. "Did the wormhole suck that electronic nightmare of a daggit into it?" "I take exception to that," Wilker muttered as he nudged a smoldering piece of plastic with his boot. * * * * * "Boxey!" Apollo cried as he gathered his son into his arms. "Lords, how did you get here?" "Dunno Dad. It was a wild ride though. One centon I was in Grandfather's closet and then all of his lingerie and me were tumbling through this tunnel of swirling lights." "His lingerie?" Apollo muttered as he searched for any sign of a head injury. "Did you hit your head, son?" "Lieutenant Boomer, a fax has arrived for you from Sire Memnoch." Lucifer informed him from the desk "Thanks, Luce. I've been waiting for this." Boomer grinned from where he was admiring himself in the mirror. He had swapped his uniform for an indigo shirt with black leather chaps. He snapped the whip once before laughing and grabbed the fd all of Episode Thirteen of the Virtual Season. He was waiting for the movie. "No, he's my brother. He has a better gig than me floating around in that fleet of his while I sit here in this dark room in this Wallaby Court deciding the fate of ingrates like yourself." Just then a large Marsupial hopped by on its large rear legs wearing boxing gloves. "I'm so fracked." Starbuck muttered as he again felt himself pushed forward. * * * * * "How could this have happened?" Adama asked as he looked down at the four blond children with vibrant green eyes that stared back at him. "I believe the explosion caused some kind of disturbance in our space-time continuum which seems to have opened a temporary wormhole that transported these children to the Galactica," Wilker muttered as he walked by eating a mushie. "Uh... thanks, but I meant how could have Apollo sired these children when we all perfectly well know that..." Adama started. "Wait, Father. Boxey is gone and so bells on the counter. "I always loved that sound. Beer me, kid." His pointed to Igraine. "Dashing through wormholes, on an uber he'enalu board..." Larson started. "Talk about a kangaroo court." Apollo exclaimed. "Six white Boomers, snow white Boomers, facing Count Iblis beneath the Stygian depths..." Larson tried to stand up for his newest song, but the lap belt held him firmly in place. "Uh, Dad... isn't Boomer black?" Boxey asked in confusion. "The last time I looked, son." Apollo replied. The flashing lights were giving him a headache. The producers were clearly out of control. Or was it the writers? "I refuse to take part in this mockery of the Colonial Legal system!" "Fine, Cap'n." Larson stopped singing. "But if you don't defend yourself now we'll slap you with a FTD . Hic. Failure to defend." "Defend myself against what? I was on Equellus a yahren ago for a total of one single episode, featuring me, I might add. It was my favorite." "ax from the well-dressed cybernetic being who was now sporting a vibrant pink boa. "Perfect. They have Starbuck in the tribunal. It's only a matter of time now." "Before what?" Belloby and Baltar asked. "Before this little daggit and equine show goes on the flight path as `the Boomer Chronicles'." Boomer responded gleefully. "Lords, the supporting cast is trying to usurp the lead!!" Belloby cackled as she put an arm around Baltar and pulled him close. "So, what's this about Adama's fetish, Balls?" "Well, Bells, as I was saying, he seems to like to wear..." Baltar leaned in conspiratorially. "Boomer, what's come over you?" Apollo thundered as he realized simultaneously he was short a combat boot. He pushed past the Bells and Balls sideshow to where the leather clad Lieutenant stood. "You can't do this to Starbuck! He's your friend. He's got us out of a lot of tight spots over the yahrens." "The way I figure it, he's got me into more tight spots that he's got me ouis the lingerie!" Athena exclaimed. "Never mind that," Tigh interrupted. "Did the wormhole suck that electronic nightmare of a daggit into it?" "I take exception to that," Wilker muttered as he nudged a smoldering piece of plastic with his boot. * * * * * "Boxey!" Apollo cried as he gathered his son into his arms. "Lords, how did you get here?" "Dunno Dad. It was a wild ride though. One centon I was in Grandfather's closet and then all of his lingerie and me were tumbling through this tunnel of swirling lights." "His lingerie?" Apollo muttered as he searched for any sign of a head injury. "Did you hit your head, son?" "Lieutenant Boomer, a fax has arrived for you from Sire Memnoch." Lucifer informed him from the desk "Thanks, Luce. I've been waiting for this." Boomer grinned from where he was admiring himself in the mirror. He had swapped his uniform for an indigo shirt with black leather chaps. He snapped the whip once before laughing and grabbed the fI liked the gun fight." Vela added. "Very sexy." Apollo grinned in reply. "Thanks. It was the open shirt that did it." Vela nodded her agreement and winked at him. "I didn't care for it at all," said Red-Eye from off camera. "Continue Captain." Moore encouraged him, while looking at his favourite magazine under the desk, Battlestar Babes Quarterly. The articles were so well rounded and articulate. Yeah, the articles. "Well, it's not possible for me to father three children of different ages during one sexual encounter about a yahren ago." "Hmm. I see what you mean." Bellisario responded. "We'd better establish how old the children are. Madam?" he asked Vela. "They are just over three sectars old, My Lord." Vela responded with a shrug. "I see. Well, apparently you're wrong, Captain. Not looking good for you." Moore pointed out as he pulled out the centerfold. "What's Starbuck doing in here?" "He's the Battlestar Babe of the Quarter. t of. Remember, it was mere episodes ago you were stuffed into a viper cockpit with him racing towards six baseships. By the way, whatever happened to them?" Boomer asked. "I believe they were taken out by the Sennoside explosion," Lucifer explained while rubbing Apollo's boot across his bulbhead, giving it a shine like no one had ever seen before. He reached for the Captain's other boot. "But Boomer, Starbuck is one of my best friends. Oh, I agree he gets far too much attention and this entire `Starbuck Chronicle' thing has only made that worse, but it's not really his fault." "Et tu, Apollo?" Boomer raved. "How can it not be his fault? It's always his fault but the fracking writers make him look like a victim of circumstances all of the time. I'm sick of it. It's time for Starbuck to stand on his own two feet and take what he's got coming to him. By the black and blue aura around me that only Lucifer can see, that is going to happen today!" He snapped his whip for emphasis as thax from the well-dressed cybernetic being who was now sporting a vibrant pink boa. "Perfect. They have Starbuck in the tribunal. It's only a matter of time now." "Before what?" Belloby and Baltar asked. "Before this little daggit and equine show goes on the flight path as `the Boomer Chronicles'." Boomer responded gleefully. "Lords, the supporting cast is trying to usurp the lead!!" Belloby cackled as she put an arm around Baltar and pulled him close. "So, what's this about Adama's fetish, Balls?" "Well, Bells, as I was saying, he seems to like to wear..." Baltar leaned in conspiratorially. "Boomer, what's come over you?" Apollo thundered as he realized simultaneously he was short a combat boot. He pushed past the Bells and Balls sideshow to where the leather clad Lieutenant stood. "You can't do this to Starbuck! He's your friend. He's got us out of a lot of tight spots over the yahrens." "The way I figure it, he's got me into more tight spots that he's got me ouWe sued for equal representation and won," Sheba explained with a grin. "Huh. Imagine that," said Moore. "Gee, thanks," said Apollo. "Can I see?" asked Bootes and Red-Eye at once. "Bloody women's lib. It's destroying the universe." Bellisario blared, waving his arms and knocking over his drink. "Oh Hades bells!" he sighed. "Gimme another drink!" Sorry, said the Butler Guy, silently. Can't "Why not?" There can be only one! "Never mind that!" Apollo yelled in exasperation. "Look at these children. Just look at them. Do they look three sectars old to you?" "Hmm. I see what you mean." Bellisario answered. "Madam?" "I can explain." Igraine interjected. "I discussed with Sen.....uh, one of the geneticists in the Life Station. It seems that Captain Apollo has some transmutable super-duper gonads that produce genetically enhanced gametes which accelerate the normal growth of the Human zygote." "Imagine that," said Moore. "Ah, wunder crashed, lightening flashed and wallabies across Cardugo Pit went to court to see the outcome. Stay tuned to the gripping continuation of the Star...Boomer Chronicles when some of your unanswered questions will be answered and others will either be ignored or blown into smithereens depending on the whim of the writer. ===== The Incerdible Hulk Goes Surfing will not be seen at this time. In it's place we present the following program, which we don't expect to be very good. On the other hand, maybe it won't be a total disaster, either. ======= The SB Chronicles are back, folks. JUST ACCEPT IT!!!!!!! ======= Okay, when last someone bothered with this pile of,...uh, when last we left our heroes, they was in a pot 'o trouble, folks. Boxey had vanished from the demolished corridor outside Adama's quarters, only to turn up on Cordugo Pit, in a very unsavory place known as Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel And Fooling Around Paraphenalia Emporium, standing wat of. Remember, it was mere episodes ago you were stuffed into a viper cockpit with him racing towards six baseships. By the way, whatever happened to them?" Boomer asked. "I believe they were taken out by the Sennoside explosion," Lucifer explained while rubbing Apollo's boot across his bulbhead, giving it a shine like no one had ever seen before. He reached for the Captain's other boot. "But Boomer, Starbuck is one of my best friends. Oh, I agree he gets far too much attention and this entire `Starbuck Chronicle' thing has only made that worse, but it's not really his fault." "Et tu, Apollo?" Boomer raved. "How can it not be his fault? It's always his fault but the fracking writers make him look like a victim of circumstances all of the time. I'm sick of it. It's time for Starbuck to stand on his own two feet and take what he's got coming to him. By the black and blue aura around me that only Lucifer can see, that is going to happen today!" He snapped his whip for emphasis as thell that explains it then," he nodded leaning over the counter and looking in the general direction of Apollo's... gonads. "Or radiation. Radiation's always a good excuse. Or maybe the fact that Equellus has a different length yahren than the Colonies. Take your pick." She stopped to wet her whistle with some of the fruit juice laid out for the kids. She tried it, it still worked. She put it back into her pocket and continued. "Not to mention the DNA tests that I've already submitted to which prove conclusively that Apollo is our father." Igraine explained, topping up their drinks all around. Hey, there can be only one! "Wrong scene, Angelo. Starbuck, down with the two sword and ax guys. 'member?" She handed him a sheaf of pink pages. Bummer. "Right. Now, getting back to father's gonads..." "Oh, yes," said Sheba. "Excuse me!" said Sire Solon. "As Chief Opposer, does anyone mind if I say a few words?" "Oh, yeah. Right," said Vela. ======= y too close to that open sewer of vice, wickedness, and other bad stuff known as Sire Uri's Corruption of Innocent Young Souls and Delinquency Through Mindless and Morally Questionable Video Games Arcade, covered in various articles of ladies attire. Colonel Tigh has managed to disentanled himself from the erstwhile explosive, and both he, Adama and Athena are wondering why a bunch of children are swirling around them. Starbuck had been de-gummed from a miniva...shuttle, and hauled into some kind of courtroom, to answer charges. Before he could do so, however, a large bouncing marsupial wearing padded gloves bounded in. (In between eps, the creature popped him one on the schnozola. Just so you know!) Oh, and there is a weird sort of space-time/energy/swirling/temporal rift vortex kind of thing floating in the air outside Adama's quarters, and Wilker is poking at some smoldering piece of plastic with his boot. Okay, all caught up? Right, here goes. Oh, right. Almost forgot. The kids claimunder crashed, lightening flashed and wallabies across Cardugo Pit went to court to see the outcome. Stay tuned to the gripping continuation of the Star...Boomer Chronicles when some of your unanswered questions will be answered and others will either be ignored or blown into smithereens depending on the whim of the writer. ===== The Incerdible Hulk Goes Surfing will not be seen at this time. In it's place we present the following program, which we don't expect to be very good. On the other hand, maybe it won't be a total disaster, either. ======= The SB Chronicles are back, folks. JUST ACCEPT IT!!!!!!! ======= Okay, when last someone bothered with this pile of,...uh, when last we left our heroes, they was in a pot 'o trouble, folks. Boxey had vanished from the demolished corridor outside Adama's quarters, only to turn up on Cordugo Pit, in a very unsavory place known as Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel And Fooling Around Paraphenalia Emporium, standing wa "Und how vaz zat?...Uh, I mean how was that?" asked Starbuck, as he traded blows, for the sixty-ninth time, with the huge muscular Barbarian. "Zat vas gut, Lieutenant. You are really pickingk zis up." The swordsman swung again, and Starbuck blocked it with his own blade. He pressed forward, till his blade caught the handguard, and he twisted. The other's sword flipped over, flew from his grip, and went clattering to the ground. "Ah!" said Starbuck. "Gut!" said Conan. "Zat is how you treminate ze udder fella." "Udder? I mean, terminate?" "Ja. Terminate." He picked up his sword, wiping it off, and looked at Starbuck. "Now, you get to verk vit Paul. Don't vorry, I'll be back." "Hey," came a voice. They all turned to see a tall man in a long black trenchcoat, with a slender sword. "I'm busy with Methos right now." "Not you, Paul. Him Paul." "Oh, okay." "Don't worry, son," said Bunyon, swinging his giant ax over his head. "You'll sc that Apollo is their papa, much to the chagrin of everyone except Wilker, baltar, Belloby, Boomer, and various other folks who mercifully don't even come into this story at all. SATISFIED NOW??????????? ======= "WHAT was that explosion??" asked Apollo. "Huh?" said someone next to him. He turned, expecting to see Baltar or belloby, but they were busy giggling over some lingerie Baltar had found. Instead, he was facing a fat, disheveled man, with a three day beard wearing a coin dispenser on his belt, and a name tag emblazoned Blip. "That explosion," he repeated, hobbling at Lucifer replaced his boot. "What was it?" "Oh that," lithped...lisped the other man. "That wath just one of the gameths, payin off." "Paying off?" "Yeah. Whenever Cylons A go-go pays off, it does that. Ya know, the Basth Thip blowths up, and all thoths really neato thpethiasl effecth." "Uh, I see. And the rest of it?" "The res...oh, you mean the thpath time continuum thy too close to that open sewer of vice, wickedness, and other bad stuff known as Sire Uri's Corruption of Innocent Young Souls and Delinquency Through Mindless and Morally Questionable Video Games Arcade, covered in various articles of ladies attire. Colonel Tigh has managed to disentanled himself from the erstwhile explosive, and both he, Adama and Athena are wondering why a bunch of children are swirling around them. Starbuck had been de-gummed from a miniva...shuttle, and hauled into some kind of courtroom, to answer charges. Before he could do so, however, a large bouncing marsupial wearing padded gloves bounded in. (In between eps, the creature popped him one on the schnozola. Just so you know!) Oh, and there is a weird sort of space-time/energy/swirling/temporal rift vortex kind of thing floating in the air outside Adama's quarters, and Wilker is poking at some smoldering piece of plastic with his boot. Okay, all caught up? Right, here goes. Oh, right. Almost forgot. The kids claimarce know he's gone." CHOP!!!! "Not bad at all," said Mrs. Peel, handing Iblis a spray perfume from her purse. "For a mere mortal." "Pah!" spat Iblis, at last clean of the flying equus' token of affection. They glared at each other from across the arena. The flying equine was rubbing his snout on Rover, but that doesn't come into this story at all. He continued to watch Starbuck practice, tempted from time to time to use a blast of power and destroy him now. However, the grinning face of the eques from across the arena made him think better of it. "Ah!" said Starbuck, as a stroke of his sword cleaved the handle of Bunyon's ax in half. "He's ready!" said Bunyon. "He's ready!' chanted one of the priestesses. She was at once joined by the others. "He's ready! he's ready!" "How in Hades Hole did I get here?" asked Adama, looking across the green, then down at his golf club. Search me. ======= HOW did Adama get onto the fairway? WHAT will hatuff?" lisped Blip. "Yeth...yes." "Hqappenth all the time. 'thpethially when thomeone utheth the fax machine. 'thcuse me, but I gotta go make a bank run. Game paid off, ya know." He reached down, qand punched a few quantums out of the changer. "Here. Have a game on me." "Uh, thanks." Apollo watched the obese man waddled away, and turned to look at his companions. The B&B Gigglefest had left the lingerie, and were gathered around Vela and the rest. They were all staring at something intently, their bodies blocking Apollo's view. he stepped closer, to see that it was... ======= After being socked into imbecility, Starbuck had awakened in another, dimly lit room. As his vision returned, all he could see was what looked like a strange video screen on one wall, which showed nothing but bubbling and swirling blobs of colored oil in water. He was in a chair, and getting up, he explored the room, However, it held nothing but a huge, antique bicycle along the far wall. The f that Apollo is their papa, much to the chagrin of everyone except Wilker, baltar, Belloby, Boomer, and various other folks who mercifully don't even come into this story at all. SATISFIED NOW??????????? ======= "WHAT was that explosion??" asked Apollo. "Huh?" said someone next to him. He turned, expecting to see Baltar or belloby, but they were busy giggling over some lingerie Baltar had found. Instead, he was facing a fat, disheveled man, with a three day beard wearing a coin dispenser on his belt, and a name tag emblazoned Blip. "That explosion," he repeated, hobbling at Lucifer replaced his boot. "What was it?" "Oh that," lithped...lisped the other man. "That wath just one of the gameths, payin off." "Paying off?" "Yeah. Whenever Cylons A go-go pays off, it does that. Ya know, the Basth Thip blowths up, and all thoths really neato thpethiasl effecth." "Uh, I see. And the rest of it?" "The res...oh, you mean the thpath time continuum thppen to Apollo at his Tribunal? IS Starbuck ready to face the vile Count Iblis? WHY is Igraine serving drinks? How will Apollo siring all these children affect things with Sheba? WHERE is Blip in this one? OR Lucifer, for that matter? WILL Larson ever learn to sing? WHAT will happen to Moore? (Personally, I can't imagine.) WHICH priestess is the one with the hugest bazooms? IS this thing EVER going to get to a resolution? For the answers to whichever of these questions we can figure one out to, don't miss the next lactatingly expressionless episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear Baltar say, "I'm objectionable!" ======= The Guy Behind Ironside's Wheelchair Is Still Pushing Dope will not be seen at this time, in order that we may shove the following program in front of you. The Starbuck Chronicles-Part 70-Who'd da thunk? It's amazing how in just the right set of circumstances, you can actually delude yourself into thinking you're capable of doing things thatront wheel was as big across as he was tall, and the seat was high up. It had a sort of canopy over the seat, and made no sense to him at all. He returned to his seat, and almost at once, a hole opened in the floor next to him. A table was raised next to him, upon which sat a sheaf of papers. A light came up from somewhere, and he looked at the document. Virtual Season 2, Episode 13 As he began to read, there was another hum, as a sort of desk rose up out of the floor before him. A small dwarf in a butler's suit appeared from nowhere, and rolled a breakfast tray over to him. The chair at the desk slowly turned to face him, and... ======= "A vortex?" asked Adama, looking through the swirling, pulsating, roiling...ah frack, you get it! "Yes," said Wilker. "A pathway to wherever Boxey has gone." "People are staring at us through it," said Athena, wondering if she would have time to get a bra like that. "Is Muffit..." "Please Colonel," growled Wilker. tuff?" lisped Blip. "Yeth...yes." "Hqappenth all the time. 'thpethially when thomeone utheth the fax machine. 'thcuse me, but I gotta go make a bank run. Game paid off, ya know." He reached down, qand punched a few quantums out of the changer. "Here. Have a game on me." "Uh, thanks." Apollo watched the obese man waddled away, and turned to look at his companions. The B&B Gigglefest had left the lingerie, and were gathered around Vela and the rest. They were all staring at something intently, their bodies blocking Apollo's view. he stepped closer, to see that it was... ======= After being socked into imbecility, Starbuck had awakened in another, dimly lit room. As his vision returned, all he could see was what looked like a strange video screen on one wall, which showed nothing but bubbling and swirling blobs of colored oil in water. He was in a chair, and getting up, he explored the room, However, it held nothing but a huge, antique bicycle along the far wall. The f would never have occurred to you in a sane moment. Yeah, this was definitely one of those instances. Just how does a guy from a little known farming community find himself in an arena somewhere between Hades Hole and Cordugo Pit, facing off with the Prince of Darkness? Of course, the answer depended to a great extent on just how one defined "sane". Starbuck looked over at the collection of beautiful women who had rooked him into this. They were still chanting "He's ready! He's ready!". Well, he didn't feel all that ready. As he turned slowly in a circle, the weight of Excalibur in his hand, an arena appeared around him as if a heavy (stygian) mist had lifted, and it had been there all along. Crowds of people, some of them bizarrely dressed, were in the stands shouting "Huzzah!" as brightly coloured banners waved in the sudden breeze. Strangely, his mysterious mentors, the mighty warrior with the eternally flexing pecs and funny accent, and the guy with the axe, blue b "But why does it look like they are on the other side of..." began Adama. ======= "A fax machine?" "Yes," said Vela. "Apparently, all the special effects from the Cylons a go-go video game in there interacted with the induction coils in this old beats, to open up a space- time rift thingy of some sort." "Is that why it looks like Adama is staring out at us from behind the glass plate of the copy feature?" asked Baltar. "Uh huh," said Vela. "When are you going to change the name?" asked Boomer. "When Imperious Leader gets a digestive system," muttered Baltar. Belloby spit out her drink laughing. "How do we get back?" asked Apollo. He looked around at them all, noticing that Boomer's new evil aura was growing stronger. No one seemed about to offer an answer. He turned at last to Lucifer, busy using his built-in lasers to polish the captain's belt-buckle. "Do you know?" Lucifer turned, and gave Baltar a long look. "Do I go?" "Yeah. Of coront wheel was as big across as he was tall, and the seat was high up. It had a sort of canopy over the seat, and made no sense to him at all. He returned to his seat, and almost at once, a hole opened in the floor next to him. A table was raised next to him, upon which sat a sheaf of papers. A light came up from somewhere, and he looked at the document. Virtual Season 2, Episode 13 As he began to read, there was another hum, as a sort of desk rose up out of the floor before him. A small dwarf in a butler's suit appeared from nowhere, and rolled a breakfast tray over to him. The chair at the desk slowly turned to face him, and... ======= "A vortex?" asked Adama, looking through the swirling, pulsating, roiling...ah frack, you get it! "Yes," said Wilker. "A pathway to wherever Boxey has gone." "People are staring at us through it," said Athena, wondering if she would have time to get a bra like that. "Is Muffit..." "Please Colonel," growled Wilker. ovine, and bad feet, had disappeared (along with pedicurist, who in his off-centars was a podiatrist-after all, one can only put so much effort into nail polish and emery boards) into the same mist from which the arena had appeared. Well, that was just wrong. He could have used the moral support... not to mention his black leather jacket, which he figured the sculpted warrior had probably turned into a loin cloth by now. Hades, he could use some immoral support, come to think of it. He could clearly see Iblis at the other end of the arena. He was raising his hand, his fingers stretched out, and pointing it towards Starbuck. Mrs. Peel, at his side along with the rattily dressed Dibley, set down her champagne flute, and covered her eyes. A beam of light flashed in front of Starbuck's eyes, there was a mighty explosion, and smoke filled the air. He was dead. He had to be dead. After all, Apollo had been in a different time, a different place, and the SOL beings were obviouurse." Lucifer rotated one shoulder. It made a grinding sound. "Diodes and a lube job?" "On me." "Then I know how." "Okay. And that is?" ======= "Where am I?" demanded Starbuck. "In the Village," said a voice coming from the chair. It was still too dim to make out the source. "What do you want?" "Information." "Whose side are you on?" "That would be telling. We want...information. Information. INFORMATION!" "You won't get it!" declared Starbuck. He watched in silent shock as a large white balloon floated by. "By hook or by crook...we will!" "Who are you?" "The New Number Two." "Who is Number One"? asked Starbuck, trying to stay focused. The smell from the tray was getting to him. "You are Number Six!" "I am NOT a number! I am a free man!" he shouted, rising out of his chair. Almost too fast to see, the little butler guy had turned up, and fastened him in with seatbelts. "HA HA HA HA HA HA "But why does it look like they are on the other side of..." began Adama. ======= "A fax machine?" "Yes," said Vela. "Apparently, all the special effects from the Cylons a go-go video game in there interacted with the induction coils in this old beats, to open up a space- time rift thingy of some sort." "Is that why it looks like Adama is staring out at us from behind the glass plate of the copy feature?" asked Baltar. "Uh huh," said Vela. "When are you going to change the name?" asked Boomer. "When Imperious Leader gets a digestive system," muttered Baltar. Belloby spit out her drink laughing. "How do we get back?" asked Apollo. He looked around at them all, noticing that Boomer's new evil aura was growing stronger. No one seemed about to offer an answer. He turned at last to Lucifer, busy using his built-in lasers to polish the captain's belt-buckle. "Do you know?" Lucifer turned, and gave Baltar a long look. "Do I go?" "Yeah. Of cosly busy elsewhere, probably trying to negotiate a cameo in the new series. The crowd roared, "Huzzah!" He realized his eyes were closed. Then again, what did it matter, if he was dead? But... he seemed to be having a lot of sentient... well, for him anyhow... thoughts for someone who was just incinerated by Mephistopheles. He knew he would probably regret it, but he opened his eyes anyway. To Starbuck's utter amazement, he still held Excalibur before him, both hands wrapped around the hilt of the huge sword. The blade was glowing a luminescent blue and almost seemed to have a mystical aura of energy around it... well, if you believed in that kind of mystical aura type thing, which Starbuck most definitely did not. No, it was merely the after-flash of the death beam, which he had amazingly deflected with the sword. Lords, he was pretty dang good. He peeked around the glowing edge of Excalibur, and slowly grinned. "Beginner's luck." Iblis roared, as he again raised h HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!!!!!" laughed the mysterious voice. Starbuck struggled against the belts, but it was no good. He glared down at the butler guy, who looked back at him, holding up the cover on the tray. It sure smelled wonderfull. He was also holding up a small sign. Breakfast? ======= "Well," said Lucifer, "all you have to do, Captain, is...' ======= WHAT is it tthat Apollo must do to be reunited with friends and family? WILL about Vela and the kids? (what will Sheba say??? Woooooooo) WHAT will Apollo do abot Boomer's new aura? WILLl Adama have to put up with a vortex outside his quarters, not to mention Wilker's old mushies wrappers, for the rest of the series? WILL Athena get that new set of lingerie? WHERE is Starbuck now, and WHO is the mysterious Number Two? WHAT do they truly want from him? WHY does the butler guy use signs? WILL Starbuck want an autograph on that copy of Ep 13? For the answers to these, and alot of other things you didn't even ask, don't miss the next installment (just shoot straight) of "The Starbuck Chronicles" (I know, but Boomer's agent is still in negotiations) when we'll hear Athena say, "Not bad." Oh, yeah. We'll finally explain the melted lump of plastic too. IF you cheer nice and loud! I promise! ======= When we last left our heroes in a swirling, whirling, dervishly type of vortex scenario... Starbuck was seatbelted to a recliner chair with some not bad reading material being offered breakfast by a vertically-challenged individual in a butler's suit while awaiting Trial in a Wallaby Court for charges of Elimination 2 and Unsanctioned Use of Duct Tape; Apollo had finally lost his four recently discovered annoying-as-Hades children that he denied siring by the beautiful Vela... don't worry, no one else believed him either... into the vortex which transported them back to his father's side; Boomer was dressed in leather chaps and an indigo shirt, and was looking quite sexy I might add, anis hand. "Y' sure about that?" asked Dibley. "Frack..." Starbuck muttered. * * * * * Sire Solon, the Chief Opposer, stood beneath the Tribunal dusting off his robes. After all, he hadn't been seen for sectars, and since he was only a supporting character, they had only given him one change of clothes. They were getting a bit ripe too, come to mention it. Luckily, he had affected the dress of his clan-the MacSolon's-and had opted to go without the traditional Colonial briefs, which on the surface, was odd for one in the legal profession, since usually he always had his briefs ready. It was much cooler, and so much more comfortable, especially when one was expected to stand around waiting for the next courtroom episode-and then only to find some twit named Memnon replacing him. "What was it you wanted to say?" Vela asked him. He looked around the courtroom at the inebriated tribunal; the flickering red and green lights covering Glen Larson; the collection ourse." Lucifer rotated one shoulder. It made a grinding sound. "Diodes and a lube job?" "On me." "Then I know how." "Okay. And that is?" ======= "Where am I?" demanded Starbuck. "In the Village," said a voice coming from the chair. It was still too dim to make out the source. "What do you want?" "Information." "Whose side are you on?" "That would be telling. We want...information. Information. INFORMATION!" "You won't get it!" declared Starbuck. He watched in silent shock as a large white balloon floated by. "By hook or by crook...we will!" "Who are you?" "The New Number Two." "Who is Number One"? asked Starbuck, trying to stay focused. The smell from the tray was getting to him. "You are Number Six!" "I am NOT a number! I am a free man!" he shouted, rising out of his chair. Almost too fast to see, the little butler guy had turned up, and fastened him in with seatbelts. "HA HA HA HA HA HAd his evil aura was growing blacker, bluer and more immense by the centon; Boxey had successfully found his way to Sire Uri's Corruption of Innocent Young Souls and Delinquency Through Mindless and Morally Questionable Video Games Arcade; Adama was staring through the vortex at Vela, Boomer, Lucifer, Belloby, Baltar and possibly Apollo; Wilker was about to figure out what that melted lump of plastic that had initially exploded in Adama's closet after stinking up various episodes and ultimately ending up in the corridor... take deep breath ...was; Colonel Tigh was wondering what had happened to Muffit; and Lucifer was about to explain to Apollo what he must do to be reunited with friends and family. Lords... what have we done? The Starbuck Chronicles Part 49 "Yeah, breakfast would be good." Starbuck nodded at the miniature butler who immediately laid down his sign and slid a tray in front of Starbuck. "Thanks." Starbuck mentioned, realizing it had been about 49 episodes since he hf people who had spiraled through the wormhole on the vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, ubere he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside, most of them having nothing to do with the charges against the Captain; the child serving drinks; and the large marsupials which seemed to make intermittent appearances based on which Winter Solstice ballad was being sung... badly. "I believe its time to take the festivity lighting down. It's well after the New Yahren, after all." Solon told them with all the authority he could muster after a few spiced ambrosias. "What lighting?" asked Memnon. "The Yule lighting, Sire Memnon." "You'll do what with the lighting?" replied the elderly Jurist. "No, Sire!" said Solon, raising his voice slightly. "The YULE LIGHTING. The decorative lights leftover from the..." "And you'll take them down?" asked Memnon. "Eh?" "Well it is rather past season. And this is a Tribunal after all, Sire." S HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!!!!!" laughed the mysterious voice. Starbuck struggled against the belts, but it was no good. He glared down at the butler guy, who looked back at him, holding up the cover on the tray. It sure smelled wonderfull. He was also holding up a small sign. Breakfast? ======= "Well," said Lucifer, "all you have to do, Captain, is...' ======= WHAT is it tthat Apollo must do to be reunited with friends and family? WILL about Vela and the kids? (what will Sheba say??? Woooooooo) WHAT will Apollo do abot Boomer's new aura? WILLl Adama have to put up with a vortex outside his quarters, not to mention Wilker's old mushies wrappers, for the rest of the series? WILL Athena get that new set of lingerie? WHERE is Starbuck now, and WHO is the mysterious Number Two? WHAT do they truly want from him? WHY does the butler guy use signs? WILL Starbuck want an autograph on that copy of Ep 13? For the answers to these, and alot of other things you didn't even ask, doad eaten anything. "Uh... can you release the restraints?" "Only after you have given us the information that we seek." The strangely resonating voice stated. "Uh... what do you want to know?" Starbuck asked... after all, it couldn't hurt to ask. Lords, that Canucklehead Porcine smelled wonderful. "Who killed Major Dorian?" The voice demanded. "Who?" Starbuck asked. He squinted his eyes to try and make out the man in the chair, but the spotlight suddenly swung into his face. He shut his eyes and saw a corona amidst all the blaring brightness that made him wince. The spotlight dimmed. "Major Dorian. Tell me who killed Major Dorian!!" "Who the frack is Major Dorian?" asked Starbuck. Suddenly, through the blaring light a hand reached out, grabbed the manuscript for `Virtual Season Two, Episode 13' and smacked him across the head with it. "MAJOR FRACKING DORIAN from Episode 13, you imbecile! The last chapters are missing! Tell me who killed him!" * * * * * olon was getting a bad feeling that this wasn't going quite right. "I don't know about any past Tribunal's, young man," intoned Memnon, shaking a bony finger at Solon, "but I think we ought to get on with the proceedings at hand, don't you?" "W...I...well of course," sighed Solon. "Good, let's get going, then," said Memnon. "And will someone turn off those colored lights, please? Thank-you." "May auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to chance, may auld acquaintance be forgot just like your underpants." Glen began to sing, once again attempting to rise out of his Tribunal chair, but the festivity light strand held him in place. Solon became aware of a breeze in the Netherlands. It was always nippy there this time of yahren. It was even nippy in Belgium. He adjusted his robes, cursing the fact that he had accidentally tucked them into his sporran after leaving the turboflush. Occht! "I'm objectionable!" a gargly voice suddenly called out from under n't miss the next installment (just shoot straight) of "The Starbuck Chronicles" (I know, but Boomer's agent is still in negotiations) when we'll hear Athena say, "Not bad." Oh, yeah. We'll finally explain the melted lump of plastic too. IF you cheer nice and loud! I promise! ======= When we last left our heroes in a swirling, whirling, dervishly type of vortex scenario... Starbuck was seatbelted to a recliner chair with some not bad reading material being offered breakfast by a vertically-challenged individual in a butler's suit while awaiting Trial in a Wallaby Court for charges of Elimination 2 and Unsanctioned Use of Duct Tape; Apollo had finally lost his four recently discovered annoying-as-Hades children that he denied siring by the beautiful Vela... don't worry, no one else believed him either... into the vortex which transported them back to his father's side; Boomer was dressed in leather chaps and an indigo shirt, and was looking quite sexy I might add, an "I think I can take this to the lab and figure out what it is." Wilker said as he nudged the melted plastic with his boot. It appeared to be bonded to the floor. "Is that really necessary, Wilker?" Adama asked, way too fast. He already had a pretty good idea what it was. "I believe that whatever `this' was, the energy from its explosion somehow reacted with that fax machine we are staring at through the mystical vortex and opened this wormhole to... that lingerie shop." Wilker responded as he took a really good look through the vortex. "What are they doing in a lingerie shop?" "Shopping?" Athena suggested as she eyed a black, lacy brassiere with matching panties and garter belts. "Not bad. Where do you think they are?" "Cordugo Pit..." Adama spilled. "Uh... maybe." "Regardless, if I can analyze the remains of this device and possible recreate it, I might be able to figure out... uh... how to get these four little brats back through the hole to that Hades Hole oa table. Apollo moved it aside to reveal Baltar, curled up on the floor next to Borax. "You certainly are," the shapeshifter told him. "And so is your tailor. Who in The Pit does your suits?" "Aha!" said a voice, as a man with scissors in one hand and a (metric) tapemeasure around his neck ran onto the stage. "I zee! Anozer anti-French zentiment from you Philistines!" "Uh, Jean-Pierre!" said Adama. "Please!" "Pleeze what?" asked the costume designer, indigantly. "I am Jean-Pierre Dorleac! Ze premiere designer of ze entire star-zyztem!" He looked at Solon's clothes, and snorted in disgust. Then to Borax: "Who does ziz creature zink he iss, to say such..." "Hey," said Borax, "I was only..." "Only a total lowbrow, who haz no tatste at all! Look at zat suit! Where did you get zat? Hawaii or somezing? Pah! you are all alike! No understanding of ze true culture! Ze true style!" He hrumpphed, and stomped off stage, then turned around and came back. "Eh, Rd his evil aura was growing blacker, bluer and more immense by the centon; Boxey had successfully found his way to Sire Uri's Corruption of Innocent Young Souls and Delinquency Through Mindless and Morally Questionable Video Games Arcade; Adama was staring through the vortex at Vela, Boomer, Lucifer, Belloby, Baltar and possibly Apollo; Wilker was about to figure out what that melted lump of plastic that had initially exploded in Adama's closet after stinking up various episodes and ultimately ending up in the corridor... take deep breath ...was; Colonel Tigh was wondering what had happened to Muffit; and Lucifer was about to explain to Apollo what he must do to be reunited with friends and family. Lords... what have we done? The Starbuck Chronicles Part 49 "Yeah, breakfast would be good." Starbuck nodded at the miniature butler who immediately laid down his sign and slid a tray in front of Starbuck. "Thanks." Starbuck mentioned, realizing it had been about 49 episodes since he hf lasciviousness." "You've been there too?" Adama asked. "Uh... well... " Wilker muttered. * * * * * "What do we need to do, Lucifer?" Apollo asked as he stared at his family through the fax machine panel. "We need to recreate the explosion that triggered the wormhole to open all the way which transported Vela's children to the Galactica and Boxey to us." Lucifer explained. "How do we do that?" Apollo asked. Through the wormhole he could see Igraine and Bootes tearing down the corridor with Colonel Tigh in hot pursuit. It was actually kind of peaceful now that they were gone. He would have to give this some serious thought. Just him, Vela and Boxey. Hmm. Even that frackin' daggit seemed to be gone. "Well, something on the Galactica must have triggered a chain-reaction when it exploded at the exact moment in time that the Cylons-a-Go-Go paid off and the fax machine received a message. If we can figure it out and replicate it, we can reopen the wormhole." Lucifonnie?" "Huh?" said Ronald Moore, looking up from his glass full of swizzle sticks. "You need anyzing designed for ze new show?" "I imagine I might, Jean-Pierre," answered Moore. "Oui! Bon!" He gave the rest one last look. "Philistines!" and stomped out. "Is that anywhere near the Philippines?" Solon asked. He had heard it was warmer there. "Can we get back to the proceedings at hand?" asked Vela, looking from the retreating designer, to Solon, then Apollo. "I'll drink to that!" said Bellisario. "Where'd everyone go?" asked Lucifer. Search me. Magically and metaphysically, Iblis suddenly stood before Starbuck. The warrior recovered quickly, and swung his broadsword, surprising the Count, but only managing to slice off a piece of white robe. ("Sacre Bleu! Watch ze costumes!" Jean-Pierre cried from the soundstage.) Starbuck swung again, bringing the tip of Excalibur close to Iblis' head. Once more, the Effervescence of Evil dodged ad eaten anything. "Uh... can you release the restraints?" "Only after you have given us the information that we seek." The strangely resonating voice stated. "Uh... what do you want to know?" Starbuck asked... after all, it couldn't hurt to ask. Lords, that Canucklehead Porcine smelled wonderful. "Who killed Major Dorian?" The voice demanded. "Who?" Starbuck asked. He squinted his eyes to try and make out the man in the chair, but the spotlight suddenly swung into his face. He shut his eyes and saw a corona amidst all the blaring brightness that made him wince. The spotlight dimmed. "Major Dorian. Tell me who killed Major Dorian!!" "Who the frack is Major Dorian?" asked Starbuck. Suddenly, through the blaring light a hand reached out, grabbed the manuscript for `Virtual Season Two, Episode 13' and smacked him across the head with it. "MAJOR FRACKING DORIAN from Episode 13, you imbecile! The last chapters are missing! Tell me who killed him!" * * * * * er said, his bulb head all lit up like a Carillon slot machine. "That doesn't sound too easy." Apollo mentioned hopefully. He eyed an emerald green teddy that he thought Vela would look especially enchanting in. Oh, look, The Inn of Lustful and Lewd Lovers was right across the street... and they rented by the centar!! "Quite right, Captain. It might take a while. Uh, where did Lieutenant Boomer go?" * * * * * "I swear, I haven't read it!" Starbuck stated for the thirteenth time. "I mean, there was so little of ME in it that... " "Liar!" The voice yelled. "If you don't tell me who killed Major Dorian, I'll skip your trial and sentence you to... a bit part!" "NO!" Starbuck cried in horror. "Not that! Anything but the obscurity of... a bit part!" "Then tell me the truth. I read every fracking chapter right up to the last... " the man's voice cracked. "All those consecutive cliff hangers. I didn't think I could take it anymore. Then... " the man started sobbing. "I think I can take this to the lab and figure out what it is." Wilker said as he nudged the melted plastic with his boot. It appeared to be bonded to the floor. "Is that really necessary, Wilker?" Adama asked, way too fast. He already had a pretty good idea what it was. "I believe that whatever `this' was, the energy from its explosion somehow reacted with that fax machine we are staring at through the mystical vortex and opened this wormhole to... that lingerie shop." Wilker responded as he took a really good look through the vortex. "What are they doing in a lingerie shop?" "Shopping?" Athena suggested as she eyed a black, lacy brassiere with matching panties and garter belts. "Not bad. Where do you think they are?" "Cordugo Pit..." Adama spilled. "Uh... maybe." "Regardless, if I can analyze the remains of this device and possible recreate it, I might be able to figure out... uh... how to get these four little brats back through the hole to that Hades Hole othe blow, and loosed a blast of power at his opponent. As before, it was deflected by the mystical blade. "Neener neeener neeeeeeener!" taunted Starbuck, as his vision once more cleared. Not waiting for Iblis to respond, he attacked again. This time, he felt the blade connect. The crowd roared as blood was drawn. Starbuck watched as the minions in the stands went wild, cheering. One fellow, dressed in a bizarre striped suit with a carnation in the lapel, rose to his feet, and began firing an antiquated weapon into the air. Another, a short weasly sort of fellow with a small black moustache, just stared, and sketched it all. A third, a fat man in a billowing robe, began singing and plucking on a sort of harp. "This is just so weird!" said Starbuck. He watched as the guy with the weapon was obliged to reload, then step down, and come to greet him. His name tag said HELLO. My name is Al. "Not bad, kid," said the pudgy fellow, with a scar down one cheek and a really bad t The mini-man, not `van' you understand, handed him a hankie and as the man blew his schnozola, he nodded his thanks. "the crucial chapter was missing!" "But really... you should ask Apollo! Or better yet, go find Sheba and haul her in here. It was all about Sheba and Apollo!" The mini-man, not van, held a sign up that asked, "How could your humungous ego take it?" "Maggie promised me if I was good, Virtual Season, Episode 14 would be all about me. They're not going to let Apollo or Sheba say more than a word or two. If that." Starbuck explained. "Are you related to Bob Dylan?" he asked the mini-man. The mini-man held up a sign, "No." "No?" The mini-man held up another sign, "Really." "Stop it with the signs, already!" The blubbering man half hidden by prop lighting insisted as a large bouncing white ball rolled after the vertically challenged butler. Just in the knick of time, a bouncing marsupial wearing boxing gloves kicked it out of the way, saving the mf lasciviousness." "You've been there too?" Adama asked. "Uh... well... " Wilker muttered. * * * * * "What do we need to do, Lucifer?" Apollo asked as he stared at his family through the fax machine panel. "We need to recreate the explosion that triggered the wormhole to open all the way which transported Vela's children to the Galactica and Boxey to us." Lucifer explained. "How do we do that?" Apollo asked. Through the wormhole he could see Igraine and Bootes tearing down the corridor with Colonel Tigh in hot pursuit. It was actually kind of peaceful now that they were gone. He would have to give this some serious thought. Just him, Vela and Boxey. Hmm. Even that frackin' daggit seemed to be gone. "Well, something on the Galactica must have triggered a chain-reaction when it exploded at the exact moment in time that the Cylons-a-Go-Go paid off and the fax machine received a message. If we can figure it out and replicate it, we can reopen the wormhole." Lucifie. "Howza'bout ya comin' and woikin' fer me?" "Ah, well, I..." began Starbuck, when a (stygian) hush fell over the arena. Everyone was looking behind him. He turned, and there was Iblis, seemingly unharmed, glowering at him with murderous eyes. "Ouch," said Iblis. "Frack," Starbuck replied. "What happens next?" one of the voluptuously bebosomed priestesses asked Belloby. Yes. WHAT will happen next? IS Iblis really hurt? WHAT will happen to Starbuck next? WILL the testy designer get a gig with Moore? DOES Belloby have a plan? DOES anyone have a plan? NOT the writers, that's for darn sure. WILL Vela get the child support she deserves? WILL Solon make it through without the heat turned up? WHAT about Boxey, Athena, and all the rest? OR for that matter, Baltar, Lucifer, and all the rest. COME to think of it, where's Blip? AND how did Adama come to be at the tribunal. WILL he ever finish his round of golf? HOW much does it cost for a round at Hades Hole? ini from certain flattening. * * * * * "What's with the hold up?" Boomer demanded with whip in hand. "Don't threaten me with that, you young whipper snapper!" Memnoch shouted at him. "I told you all this would be yours if you would get me... the item." Memnoch opened his arms widely, encompassing the universe... well, Universal Studios anyhow. "I haven't found it yet," Boomer complained. "I think Starbuck may have it." His eyes narrowed shrewdly and his aura began to swirl about his head... which started to make him a bit dizzy. He sat down on the bench in the courtroom which Memnoch presided over. "Where do you think he has hidden it?" Memnoch asked. "Somewhere under all that duct tape, no doubt." Boomer reminded the man that the popular Lieutenant was still, in fact, wrapped in duct tape. "Can I help you find it?" Boomer laughed evilly as Memnoch nodded his agreement. "Mine. It will all be mine!" * * * * * Stay tuned for the next episode of the `Boomerer said, his bulb head all lit up like a Carillon slot machine. "That doesn't sound too easy." Apollo mentioned hopefully. He eyed an emerald green teddy that he thought Vela would look especially enchanting in. Oh, look, The Inn of Lustful and Lewd Lovers was right across the street... and they rented by the centar!! "Quite right, Captain. It might take a while. Uh, where did Lieutenant Boomer go?" * * * * * "I swear, I haven't read it!" Starbuck stated for the thirteenth time. "I mean, there was so little of ME in it that... " "Liar!" The voice yelled. "If you don't tell me who killed Major Dorian, I'll skip your trial and sentence you to... a bit part!" "NO!" Starbuck cried in horror. "Not that! Anything but the obscurity of... a bit part!" "Then tell me the truth. I read every fracking chapter right up to the last... " the man's voice cracked. "All those consecutive cliff hangers. I didn't think I could take it anymore. Then... " the man started sobbing. For the answers to these, and other meritoriously effervescent questions, don't miss the next peristaltically purgiferous episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear Cassiopeia say, "How long is this going to go on, for Sagan's Sake?" King Arthur and Merlin sing off-key will not be seen at this time. In its place we present this troubling clef-hanger... ======= Iblis stared venomously at the Colonial Warrior. It was a farce! Not only was he battling the Lothario of the Galactica, instead of the gallant Captain Apollo, but the unlikely hero was actually winning. It was that sword. That blasted, cursed, damnable sword! Excalibur gleamed in the (stygian) light, the bluish aura clearly defined around the magnificent blade, as Starbuck held her before him. Iblis noted how the lighting accented the Lieutenant's eyes. Nice eyes. Kinda sexy, really. Probably irrelevant to the plot-or lack thereof-but a lovely effect nonetheless. "Perhaps that's wh Trying To Usurp Starbuck Chronicles' when you will find out 1) that the intro's are indeed becoming almost as long as the segments, 2) who killed Major Dorian, 3) what that stinky thing that used to be in the closet, but then exploded and opened a wormhole in the space time continuum and finally came to rest bonded to the deck in the corridor outside of Adama's quarters is, 4) whether Apollo will take Vela to the Inn for Lustful and Lewd Lovers, 5) what exactly is `elimination 2', 6) what does Memnoch want and where on Starbuck's body it is hidden, 7) and why Senmut keeps making empty promises. You'll also hear the mini-man say, "the plane, boss, the plane!" ======= Marcus Welby, M.D. Gets the Plague will not be seen at this time, in order that we may present the following sick program. ======= Previously on The Starbuck Chronicles: While the Commander, Colonel Tigh, Apollo, Baltar, Boomer and the rest were doing a whole bunch of other stuff, Starbuck was in a g The mini-man, not `van' you understand, handed him a hankie and as the man blew his schnozola, he nodded his thanks. "the crucial chapter was missing!" "But really... you should ask Apollo! Or better yet, go find Sheba and haul her in here. It was all about Sheba and Apollo!" The mini-man, not van, held a sign up that asked, "How could your humungous ego take it?" "Maggie promised me if I was good, Virtual Season, Episode 14 would be all about me. They're not going to let Apollo or Sheba say more than a word or two. If that." Starbuck explained. "Are you related to Bob Dylan?" he asked the mini-man. The mini-man held up a sign, "No." "No?" The mini-man held up another sign, "Really." "Stop it with the signs, already!" The blubbering man half hidden by prop lighting insisted as a large bouncing white ball rolled after the vertically challenged butler. Just in the knick of time, a bouncing marsupial wearing boxing gloves kicked it out of the way, saving the my Starbuck was selected by the gods." Mrs. Peel suggested, reading Iblis' mind as she admired the Lieutenant's toned, rippling muscles, so well-developed and thoroughly defined, that glinted with the light sheen of perspiration on his half naked body... Hmmmm... where was I?... oh, yes... sorry `bout that. No... you're right. I'm not really that sorry. "Cos `is eyes matched the sword?" Dibley asked, screwing up `is...umm, his, face in doubt as he followed the script. "Absolutment!" Jean-Pierre declared from off stage, pleazed to see his colour coordination had extended into the special effects department. "Oh, all right then." Dibley shrugged. He turned to his better dressed, but less personable brother. "Wot ya gonna do now, Ibs?" Still quietly fuming, a slow, malignant smile crossed Iblis' features. He raised his hands, palms up. It looked as though he was straining to lift a heavy force, his arms trembling as they drew parallel to his shoulders, his eyes tuloomy room, a mysterious dark-robed figure identifying itself as "Number Two", and demanding "information". A small, bald-headed butler guy with a silver tray on a cart offered him breakfast, as a giant white balloon floated by, making weird screaming noises. At this point, Starbuck said: "Who the frack is Major Dorian?" To which the mysterioius robed figure of Number Two answered: "MAJOR FRACKING DORIAN from Episode 13, you imbecile! The last chapters are missing! Tell me who killed him!" And now, while the other people are still doing other stuff, like Wilker analysizing the melted plastic, Boomer being icky, Belloby plotting the next episode, and both Athena and Baltar contemplating wardrobe makeovers, we present----- The Starbuck (although some keep trying to change it to "The Boomer") Chronicles Part 50 ======= Starbuck buckled, or rather duct-taped down, and began to read the script. Since his hands were otherwise engaged, he couldn't hold the document. However, theini from certain flattening. * * * * * "What's with the hold up?" Boomer demanded with whip in hand. "Don't threaten me with that, you young whipper snapper!" Memnoch shouted at him. "I told you all this would be yours if you would get me... the item." Memnoch opened his arms widely, encompassing the universe... well, Universal Studios anyhow. "I haven't found it yet," Boomer complained. "I think Starbuck may have it." His eyes narrowed shrewdly and his aura began to swirl about his head... which started to make him a bit dizzy. He sat down on the bench in the courtroom which Memnoch presided over. "Where do you think he has hidden it?" Memnoch asked. "Somewhere under all that duct tape, no doubt." Boomer reminded the man that the popular Lieutenant was still, in fact, wrapped in duct tape. "Can I help you find it?" Boomer laughed evilly as Memnoch nodded his agreement. "Mine. It will all be mine!" * * * * * Stay tuned for the next episode of the `Boomer mysterious figure at the desk pressed a glowing button, and page one immediately appeared on the huge view screem, replacing the oddly soothing oil blobs. Sighing, but with images of "bit parts" fresh in his mind, he began to read. After a couple of pages, he felt something touch his leg. It was the little butler guy. Good, isn't it? ======= "Okay," said Boomer, fingering the metal barbs embedded inthe whip, "how can you get me in there? After all, with Number Two, and Rover guarding him..." "Don't forget the Butler," Memnoch reminded him. "Yeah, and him. With all that security, how do I get in and out, undetected?" "Leave that to me, Lieutenant Boomer. No one knows the ins and outs of The Village like I do." "Except for the architect," Boomer reminded him. "Well, yeah. Him. But other than him, no one knows the ins and out of the Village like I do." "What about Rover? I mean it has to be able to go anywhere, right?" "Okay. Rover. But otherned upwards... and rolling around in his head like a slot machine in Carillon. Or possibly, one of those in Blip's place on Cordugo Pit. Actually, it doesn't really matter, but hey...He suddenly and sharply pulled one arm in towards his body and a strange burbling electronic noise filled the (stygian) depths. A gasp of dismay rose from the crowd. Starbuck turned abruptly to see a dark, glimmering cloud approaching from the West. "What in Hades Hole is that?" he muttered, getting the incommodious idea that he was probably the only one in the entire stadium who didn't know. Silence suddenly, not to mention, oddly... reigned. He turned back towards his adoring fans to find... he was utterly alone. Well, except for one incredibly smug looking Iblis standing some metrons away, his eyeballs flashing, and a pool of Cordugo notes lying inexplicably beneath his flowing robes. Even the Starbuckians had departed, leaving him to face whatever horror was hastily approaching him, a Trying To Usurp Starbuck Chronicles' when you will find out 1) that the intro's are indeed becoming almost as long as the segments, 2) who killed Major Dorian, 3) what that stinky thing that used to be in the closet, but then exploded and opened a wormhole in the space time continuum and finally came to rest bonded to the deck in the corridor outside of Adama's quarters is, 4) whether Apollo will take Vela to the Inn for Lustful and Lewd Lovers, 5) what exactly is `elimination 2', 6) what does Memnoch want and where on Starbuck's body it is hidden, 7) and why Senmut keeps making empty promises. You'll also hear the mini-man say, "the plane, boss, the plane!" ======= Marcus Welby, M.D. Gets the Plague will not be seen at this time, in order that we may present the following sick program. ======= Previously on The Starbuck Chronicles: While the Commander, Colonel Tigh, Apollo, Baltar, Boomer and the rest were doing a whole bunch of other stuff, Starbuck was in a gr than Rover and the architect, no one knows the ins and outs of the Vil..." "And of course, the controller, and the guy who operates Rover," Boomer continued. "And that Butler guy, I mean he must know alot, not to mention the Oriental girl who drives the taxi, and..." "ALRIGHT!!!! CUT IT OUT, CAN'T YOU??????????????" bellowed Memnoch. " 'k" ======= Terrific writer huh? signed the Butler. "You're telling me," said Starbuck. "This stuff is fabulous. The characterization, the interplay of subtil and nuanced metaphors. Even the few places I'm in, they ring with the sheer aura of authenticity. A true, vital talent. Uh, yeah?" He stopped, looking down. The little man was holding up another sign. What's a metaphor? ======= "Gott in Himmel!!!!!" said Wilker, as he analyzed the mysterious piece of melted...whatever it had been, in his lab. "Sir?" asked his able and incredibly talented assistant, Technician Humuhumunukunukuapua'a, aka "Hummer". "Wnd his trusty sword, completely alone. Gulp. "How long is this going to go on, for Sagan's Sake?" Cassiopeia asked, as she stared up at the scene unfolding in the alternate universe. Starbuck still lay seemingly insensible on the ground, his head on her lap... and his hand inexplicably half way up her thigh. * * * * * "I'm growing weary of this plot device," Sire Memnon declared, banging a gavel on Glen Larson's head. "It is time for the Tribunal to reach a decision." Apollo looked at the Tribunal nervously. In the next few moments they would decide the fate of his paycheque. Or check, depending upon which side of the Galactica one was usually billeted on. (Oh, crossing over that 49th parallel universe was always a tricky matter as the war raged on.) Hades, maybe even his pension. He shook his head in mute wonderment as he tried to rationalize in his mind how he could have possibly sired four children of varying ages in one sexual encounter just over nine loomy room, a mysterious dark-robed figure identifying itself as "Number Two", and demanding "information". A small, bald-headed butler guy with a silver tray on a cart offered him breakfast, as a giant white balloon floated by, making weird screaming noises. At this point, Starbuck said: "Who the frack is Major Dorian?" To which the mysterioius robed figure of Number Two answered: "MAJOR FRACKING DORIAN from Episode 13, you imbecile! The last chapters are missing! Tell me who killed him!" And now, while the other people are still doing other stuff, like Wilker analysizing the melted plastic, Boomer being icky, Belloby plotting the next episode, and both Athena and Baltar contemplating wardrobe makeovers, we present----- The Starbuck (although some keep trying to change it to "The Boomer") Chronicles Part 50 ======= Starbuck buckled, or rather duct-taped down, and began to read the script. Since his hands were otherwise engaged, he couldn't hold the document. However, thehat language was that? I've never heard it before." "Sorry. I keep forgetting. I spend so much time on the other soundstage." "Oh, right, Mein Herr...uh, sir. What have you found?" "This...object. It once was what we in the scientific world referred to as a Portable Electricly Powered Individual Pelvic Region Vasco-Dialation and Neurological Stimulator." "Oh. One of those." "Mark V." "Oh, well. That's different." "Manufactured by the Sire Uri Naughty Toys And Other Things Your Mother Wouldn't Approve Of Manufacturing Company." "Umm..." "Limited." The young man thought a moment. "But what was it doing in the Comm..." "MON DIEU!!!!!!!!!!!!" exclaimed Wilker again. "At the Cannes Festival again this year, were you?" "The serial number on this device!" "What about it, sir?" "It's one didgit off from mine!" "Umm........." ======= "What happens if the wormhole should close?" asked Athena, trying not tosectars before. It was impossible. "Guilty!" Larson decreed. "Guilty!" Bellisario and Moore agreed. Their response was a bit slow, since they were at that moment busily dividing up a bottle of pearl onions between them, but it was heard by the assembled even so. Apollo shut his eyes, as `guilty' rang out through the gallery. Oddly, until this moment he actually hadn't noticed the gallery before. It had a fine display of art work, and a fair, heavy set man with a dignified bearing was straightening a frame. "Can't believe it, Sir." Cadet Pelias muttered. "Me neither." Apollo shrugged, feeling as though he was losing his mind. He stared closely at the picture within Pelias' grip. A man stood holding a sword, facing a robed figure. A flickering dark cloud of oppression and gloom surrounded them. Strangely, a fierce blue light surrounded the armed man, casting a sense of hope in an otherwise dour portrait. "Yours?" Apollo asked the cadet, who had resigned from t mysterious figure at the desk pressed a glowing button, and page one immediately appeared on the huge view screem, replacing the oddly soothing oil blobs. Sighing, but with images of "bit parts" fresh in his mind, he began to read. After a couple of pages, he felt something touch his leg. It was the little butler guy. Good, isn't it? ======= "Okay," said Boomer, fingering the metal barbs embedded inthe whip, "how can you get me in there? After all, with Number Two, and Rover guarding him..." "Don't forget the Butler," Memnoch reminded him. "Yeah, and him. With all that security, how do I get in and out, undetected?" "Leave that to me, Lieutenant Boomer. No one knows the ins and outs of The Village like I do." "Except for the architect," Boomer reminded him. "Well, yeah. Him. But other than him, no one knows the ins and out of the Village like I do." "What about Rover? I mean it has to be able to go anywhere, right?" "Okay. Rover. But othe notice the way Baltar was holding pieces of lingerie up to Belloby. "Then we would be stuck," said Lucifer. "Oh, really, Bulbhead? No kidding? Thanks." "Please, Lieutenant," said Lucifer. "Name calling does not become you." "Yeah, well remember something, Ironbutt. YOU are only a robot. A mere pile of circuits and parts. I am a Human Being. Got me?" "Oh, yes, I do. Cleavage Breath." "WHAT?????" gasped Athena. "I saw the dailies, from Carillon. That dress was cute. I thought the way your..." "Watch it, Loopstick Lips!" she warned, shaking a finger at him. "Remember all those crushed diodes. And furthermore, Transformer Tush..." "Oh stuff it, Bouncy Buns!" shot back Lucifer. "Remember, I am an IL Series Cylon, capable..." "Capable of supplying parts to fix my disc player, Microwave Mouth." "Will you two shut up?????" bellowed Belloby. "I can hardly...say, where's Apollo?" "He was..." began Baltar. "For that matter, where's he service to pursue his career in the arts. "Yes, sir." Pelias agreed. "Nice." Apollo commented. "Wait just a centon!" Vela roared. "Sorry, you can't use that line." Solon told her. "What line?" Vela asked, more quietly this time. "Just a centon." Solon repeated. "Made you say it!" Vela laughed. All her children laughed, and Puppis slapped her on the back. "Way to go, Mom!'" "Dangnammit!" Solon cursed. There had been a ban in effect for the most overused phrase in a single story ever since... well, I digress... "What was it you wanted to say, Miss Vela?" He looked down, and the Butler guy was there, handing him a platter upon which sat a bar of soap. He scowled, and turned back to Vela. "That's Ms.Vela." "Not here," said Sire Memnon. "We're all a bunch a patriarchialist sexist porcines, here, remember." "Yeah, whatever. I just wanted to say that it was never me who wanted to slap a paternity suit on Captain Apollo. I thought r than Rover and the architect, no one knows the ins and outs of the Vil..." "And of course, the controller, and the guy who operates Rover," Boomer continued. "And that Butler guy, I mean he must know alot, not to mention the Oriental girl who drives the taxi, and..." "ALRIGHT!!!! CUT IT OUT, CAN'T YOU??????????????" bellowed Memnoch. " 'k" ======= Terrific writer huh? signed the Butler. "You're telling me," said Starbuck. "This stuff is fabulous. The characterization, the interplay of subtil and nuanced metaphors. Even the few places I'm in, they ring with the sheer aura of authenticity. A true, vital talent. Uh, yeah?" He stopped, looking down. The little man was holding up another sign. What's a metaphor? ======= "Gott in Himmel!!!!!" said Wilker, as he analyzed the mysterious piece of melted...whatever it had been, in his lab. "Sir?" asked his able and incredibly talented assistant, Technician Humuhumunukunukuapua'a, aka "Hummer". "WVela?" said Athena. "Not to mention Captain Apollo," snorted Lucifer. They all looked across the street, to the garishly flashing semi- concealed chartreuse mood-lighting neon of The Inn of Lustful and Lewd Lovers. "And they rent by the centar," said Boxey. ======= "Well?" rasped the mysterious voice, from behind the desk. "Hey, do I look like Evelyn Wood?" replied Starbuck. "I'm reading as fast as I can. I just got to the part where Boxey's talking about all the sex in The Book Of The Word, and then the can blows up." Starbuck felt a nudge, and looked down. Great part. "Yeah, I thought so. And that the author would mention the guy in the Book, the really sexy one who looked like me? I mean that was just sooo..." "SHUT UP AND READ!!!!!!!!" demanded the voice. The Butler guy looked up at Starbuck, and nodded, giving him the thumbs up. ======= "Ah," said Boomer, as he looked down through the vent grill. Below was Starbuck, still partly boundperhaps... instead of settling monetarily... we could come to some other arrangement, Sire Solon." She turned to regard the Captain. "Wait!" said Baltar, for some unexplored reason holding Hummer's vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el- mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside, and smoking. "Don't I get to say anything in this episode?" "NO!" said Adama. "Bummer!" said the traitor. "That's `Boomer'." Boomer corrected him. "That's `Hummer'," Hummer added simultaneously. "Oh please!" sighed Athena. She noticed Igraine looking at her, and felt a sudden urge to adjust her undies. "Uh, what did you have in mind?" Apollo asked Vela nervously. Several scenarios, all hideously be-doomed, flashed through his mind. Vela waggled her eyebrows and grinned. "Well, you see, what I had in mind was..." "HALT!" cried a voice, just as the vile, disgusting, evil, horrific, Satanic, hellish, and really, really badhat language was that? I've never heard it before." "Sorry. I keep forgetting. I spend so much time on the other soundstage." "Oh, right, Mein Herr...uh, sir. What have you found?" "This...object. It once was what we in the scientific world referred to as a Portable Electricly Powered Individual Pelvic Region Vasco-Dialation and Neurological Stimulator." "Oh. One of those." "Mark V." "Oh, well. That's different." "Manufactured by the Sire Uri Naughty Toys And Other Things Your Mother Wouldn't Approve Of Manufacturing Company." "Umm..." "Limited." The young man thought a moment. "But what was it doing in the Comm..." "MON DIEU!!!!!!!!!!!!" exclaimed Wilker again. "At the Cannes Festival again this year, were you?" "The serial number on this device!" "What about it, sir?" "It's one didgit off from mine!" "Umm........." ======= "What happens if the wormhole should close?" asked Athena, trying not to in duct tape, with the Butler guy standing next to him. He reached into his pocket, taking out the tape player given him by Memnoch. The sounds on the tape would, he was assured, disable Rover. He could then drop in, and do what...must be done. He pressed "play", and.... ======= "Man, I must have missed the sale!" said Wilker. "Frack! Just like Sire Uri!" "Yeeeeee-ah. Whatever," said Hummer. "But what made everything stink?" "Huh? Oh, that. Well, it was..." ======= "Why don't we just fax ourselves back home?" asked Boxey, looking again into the glass plate on the machine. "If it worked once, it could again." He waited for a response, but the adults were all ignoring him. "The rates are down." Still nothing. Annoyed, he went looking for Blip. "Hey." "Yeah? Whaths ya want, kid?" "You got change for a cubit?" ======= "...the plane, Boss! The plane!" "Frack!" said Boomer, dropping the recorder. It fell through the grill, and bounced off Count Iblis began to move in on Starbuck. He tread upon ever- growing heaps of Cordugo notes, each with Sire Uri's portrait upon them. Trying to buck up his courage, the besworded Viper pilot taunted his foe. "Whatcha gonna do, Jowls? Kill me with interest rates?" But, before the bad guy could so much as respond, they were both distracted by the new voice, booming across the (stygian) expanse of their arena. "Who dares interfere?" demanded Iblis, his attention momentarily diverted from Starbuck. "Me, that's who!" repeated the voice, and both combatants looked up, into the (stygian) sky. There, silhouetted against the fiery vault, was the flying equine, slowly descending to the ground. Astride the beast sat a woman, obviously so from her long flowing golden hair, but Starbuck could make out no other details. Slowly, the beast settled to earth, and (No, not THE Earth the Fleet is looking for. It's just an expression. The equivalent of ground. Dirt. The thing you fall onto or t notice the way Baltar was holding pieces of lingerie up to Belloby. "Then we would be stuck," said Lucifer. "Oh, really, Bulbhead? No kidding? Thanks." "Please, Lieutenant," said Lucifer. "Name calling does not become you." "Yeah, well remember something, Ironbutt. YOU are only a robot. A mere pile of circuits and parts. I am a Human Being. Got me?" "Oh, yes, I do. Cleavage Breath." "WHAT?????" gasped Athena. "I saw the dailies, from Carillon. That dress was cute. I thought the way your..." "Watch it, Loopstick Lips!" she warned, shaking a finger at him. "Remember all those crushed diodes. And furthermore, Transformer Tush..." "Oh stuff it, Bouncy Buns!" shot back Lucifer. "Remember, I am an IL Series Cylon, capable..." "Capable of supplying parts to fix my disc player, Microwave Mouth." "Will you two shut up?????" bellowed Belloby. "I can hardly...say, where's Apollo?" "He was..." began Baltar. "For that matter, where's of Rover. Everyone looked up, and... ======= WHAT will happen to Boomer? WILL Starbuck get to the last chapter, or will he be condemned to...bit parts? WHY did the tape play what it did? WHAT does Memnoch truly want from Starbuck? WHAT (ha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) are Apollo and Vela up to? For that matter, WHAT about Baltar and Belloby? WHAT is behind Wilker's revelation? WILL he ever tell us what the smell was? DOES Blip have the proper change? For the answers to, perhaps, none of these questions, don't fail to miss the next utterly excerable episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in (if you must), when we'll hear Igraine say-- "That's it! I'm staying, Grandpa!" ======= When we last left our heroes Starbuck was reading!!!!! Yeah, I thought it was pretty funny too!!!! I'm afraid I can't get past that... so... on to the next irrational episode of: The Boomer... oh, all right then, the Starbuck Chronicles. Part 51 The little butler guy jabbed Starbuck with his sign,hat Vipers sometimes crash into. It's just an expression, so don't get so worked up, okay? Right. Now, where were we? Oh, yeah...) the rider dismounted. "Look, this is a private fight," said Iblis, annoyed. "You know, the fate of the entire universe at stake, and all that? So, could you..." "Starbuck!" cried the rider, her feet touching the ground. Starbuck squinted, trying to figure out just who this was, but sweat and smoke in his eyes were playing havoc with his vision just now. Suddenly, just as it hit him, another figure emerged, dismounting from the winged beast, and running towards him, arms outstretched. "DADDY!" "Oh Lords!" "Oh please!" groaned Iblis. "Not more kids!" Dibley exclaimed. "We jus' got rid of the last lot!" "Ouch!" cried Cassie, jumping to her feet, and then reveling in the sound of Starbuck's head thumping on the ground as it slip off her lap. "Wait a cen.....moment!" said Belloby, watching it all unfold. "This wasn'Vela?" said Athena. "Not to mention Captain Apollo," snorted Lucifer. They all looked across the street, to the garishly flashing semi- concealed chartreuse mood-lighting neon of The Inn of Lustful and Lewd Lovers. "And they rent by the centar," said Boxey. ======= "Well?" rasped the mysterious voice, from behind the desk. "Hey, do I look like Evelyn Wood?" replied Starbuck. "I'm reading as fast as I can. I just got to the part where Boxey's talking about all the sex in The Book Of The Word, and then the can blows up." Starbuck felt a nudge, and looked down. Great part. "Yeah, I thought so. And that the author would mention the guy in the Book, the really sexy one who looked like me? I mean that was just sooo..." "SHUT UP AND READ!!!!!!!!" demanded the voice. The Butler guy looked up at Starbuck, and nodded, giving him the thumbs up. ======= "Ah," said Boomer, as he looked down through the vent grill. Below was Starbuck, still partly bound "Well?" "I already told you, I'm no speed reader. I didn't take the fracking course. Mind you, Evelyn's granddaughter was pretty cute and she outdid her grandmother for speed in more ways than one, if you get my drift." He grinned Starbuckishly, as only he can. Though his grin faded as he realized he was still seat belted in a chair, while wearing duct tape over most of his body. Well, at least the bits that Belloby and Vela hadn't removed already. "And the writing?" the mini-man asked again. "Awesome." Starbuck replied. "So much better than the Leadership Manuals I have to read for the Virtual Season Felgercarb. Oh, and the Piscon Joke Books. Better than those, and I thought I'd never say that." Starbuck thought about comparing Bones to his caricature booklets, but thought he had better draw the line somewhere. "Haven't you finished yet?" number two asked him. "Uh... I have a question. If you don't have the final chapters that tell you who killed Majorette..." t in the script." She turned to the rest. "Was it?" "Not that I read," replied Myrtle and the rest. WHAT is going on with Starbuck and these new arrivals? IS Count Iblis plotting some new horror for him? WHAT will Vela ask for from Apollo? WILL Bellisario or Moore get the most onions? WHERE did the gallery of spectators down in Hades Hole go to? WHAT of Boxey, and the rest? WHY haven't we seen Colonel Tigh for a while? COME to think of it...no, never mind. For the answers to these, and possibly a few other questions, don't miss the closest forward-numbered sequentially-placed without going over episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear the Butler Guy not say, "Red Rover, Red Rover, send the ghost of Ortega right over!" ======= Starbuck Chronicles Part 72 In the beginning... there was some reason... but that was 71 episodes ago. Bwahahahahahaha! * * * * * "Daddy!" The little blonde haired angel flew towards Starbuck with the en in duct tape, with the Butler guy standing next to him. He reached into his pocket, taking out the tape player given him by Memnoch. The sounds on the tape would, he was assured, disable Rover. He could then drop in, and do what...must be done. He pressed "play", and.... ======= "Man, I must have missed the sale!" said Wilker. "Frack! Just like Sire Uri!" "Yeeeeee-ah. Whatever," said Hummer. "But what made everything stink?" "Huh? Oh, that. Well, it was..." ======= "Why don't we just fax ourselves back home?" asked Boxey, looking again into the glass plate on the machine. "If it worked once, it could again." He waited for a response, but the adults were all ignoring him. "The rates are down." Still nothing. Annoyed, he went looking for Blip. "Hey." "Yeah? Whaths ya want, kid?" "You got change for a cubit?" ======= "...the plane, Boss! The plane!" "Frack!" said Boomer, dropping the recorder. It fell through the grill, and bounced off "MAJOR DORIAN!" the voice yelled. "Really? No majorettes?" Starbuck asked in disappointment. "NO!" number two reiterated. "Well, then, I don't know that I want to finish it." Starbuck replied indignantly. Just at that moment he heard a voice cry out, "the plane, boss, the plane!" The large white ball bounced a small recorder onto his lap and the recorder then said, "Welcome to Fantasy Island... I mean Fantasy Village." Just then, the enormous white ball let out an enormous raspberry and deflated on the spot. Starbuck looked up to see... "Boomer!" he cried out in relief. * * * * * "Apollo, it's been too long." Vela told him as she snuggled up next to him in the vibrating bed in the Inn for Lustful and Lewd Lovers. "Quit complaining, Vela. Nothing I can do... " Frack, the bed had stopped vibrating again. It was sucking more cubits out of him than Vela's child support payments. "Schnookums, plug the meter, would ya?" Vela suggested as she ran herergy usually reserved for children and ion propulsion units. Sometimes Cylon pulsar cannons, too, but not all the time. "Uh... Miri..." Starbuck gasped and wheezed as Iblis looked on with an expression of malevolent pleasure. How on Attila could this have happened? The Lieutenant's chest felt tight with the pent up anxiety of a spastic bladder as the tiny proponent of exponential energy thrust itself into him (which admittedly was a switch), and clutched his leg with the desperation of a wild daggit shown food for the first time in a sectar. "Starbuck!" Miri breathed, smiling her beauty queen best and thrusting her chest forward for the best camera angle. "I thought we'd never find you!" "Miri... but..." he sputtered, totally dumbfounded. Hades, he hadn't slept with the young woman! He couldn't have...could he??? The Lords only knew how tempting it was, but he had been surrounded at all times by her siblings, not to mention a few Cylons and unicorns, then there was his of Rover. Everyone looked up, and... ======= WHAT will happen to Boomer? WILL Starbuck get to the last chapter, or will he be condemned to...bit parts? WHY did the tape play what it did? WHAT does Memnoch truly want from Starbuck? WHAT (ha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) are Apollo and Vela up to? For that matter, WHAT about Baltar and Belloby? WHAT is behind Wilker's revelation? WILL he ever tell us what the smell was? DOES Blip have the proper change? For the answers to, perhaps, none of these questions, don't fail to miss the next utterly excerable episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in (if you must), when we'll hear Igraine say-- "That's it! I'm staying, Grandpa!" ======= When we last left our heroes Starbuck was reading!!!!! Yeah, I thought it was pretty funny too!!!! I'm afraid I can't get past that... so... on to the next irrational episode of: The Boomer... oh, all right then, the Starbuck Chronicles. Part 51 The little butler guy jabbed Starbuck with his sign, leg suggestively up the Captain's thigh. Apollo smiled indulgently. Lords, she... she... Sheba!!!! Sheba was going to blast him into next yahren if she heard about this!! * * * * * "What, kid?" Blip asthed again. Lordth, isth'ths affected the narrator now! "I need change for a cubit." Boxey reminded Blip. Blip stharted counting out change from histh belt. "Here ya go-go, kid." "I love this place. I hope we can stay a while." Boxey gushed as he rushed back into Sire Uri's Corruption of Innocent Young Souls and Delinquency Through Mindless and Morally Questionable Video Games Arcade. * * * * * "Okay, I have an idea." Athena told them as she stared longingly at the expensive lingerie through the wormhole. "Bulb-boy, do you see that black lacy bra behind you?" "This one?" Lucifer held up a garish example of lingerie. "NO!" Athena responded. "Lords, what was I thinking asking a robot wearing a shiny gold cape, to pick out a sexy bra?" "Oh, tfestering leg wound. Nope, not exactly a romantic setting. "You don't always have to actually sleep," said Mrs. Peel, stirring her drink with a gold swizzle stick and grinning at him. He took a step forward, the child by now securely fastened in a way that was already causing a tingling in his foot with the obstruction of his circulation. He reached down desperately to loosen the toddler from his limb. "C'mon sweetheart, go see Mommy." The child glanced up at him, blonde hair out of place on her dark features. Dark, jamocha skin and huge, brown eyes gazed up at him with wonder as she clung to him tightly. Starbuck shook his head in wonder and grabbed the blonde locks, which separated from her black, curly tresses easily. He stared at the tot as a sudden understanding hit him with the velocity and deadly impact of a laser bolt. "Baby ... Boomer's..." he muttered in horror. Lords, demographics had finally infiltrated his universe. "Here," said Mrs. Peel, fishing i "Well?" "I already told you, I'm no speed reader. I didn't take the fracking course. Mind you, Evelyn's granddaughter was pretty cute and she outdid her grandmother for speed in more ways than one, if you get my drift." He grinned Starbuckishly, as only he can. Though his grin faded as he realized he was still seat belted in a chair, while wearing duct tape over most of his body. Well, at least the bits that Belloby and Vela hadn't removed already. "And the writing?" the mini-man asked again. "Awesome." Starbuck replied. "So much better than the Leadership Manuals I have to read for the Virtual Season Felgercarb. Oh, and the Piscon Joke Books. Better than those, and I thought I'd never say that." Starbuck thought about comparing Bones to his caricature booklets, but thought he had better draw the line somewhere. "Haven't you finished yet?" number two asked him. "Uh... I have a question. If you don't have the final chapters that tell you who killed Majorette..." he sexy one with the underwire. Well, why didn't you say so?" Lucifer asked her as he pulled the naughty little number off of the hanger. Little did she know he had one just like it back on the base ship. He used the cups to store his extra diodes in. "Good. Now put it in the fax machine." Athena directed him. "And make sure someone is playing that Cylons-a-Go-Go game." Lucifer looked in to see that, in fact, Boxey was playing the game. He was winning too. The game started paying off and Lucifer pressed the send button. Whirrrr-bing!!!!! Athena looked down at the deck to see her coveted brassiere awaiting her. "Did it work?" Lucifer asked. "Uh... not enough data to commit to that so far." Athena replied. After all, she had been on the bridge for a while now. "Do you see the matching panties? Send those too." "Well, this seems highly irregular as research goes... " Lucifer started. "Send them!!" Athena yelled. "And add the garter belts with those crawln her purse, and tossing him a small jar of cold cream. "Try this." Starbuck got the idea, and tried it on the girl. At once, her skin became lighter, which often happens when you cover your skin in thick, white, opaque cream. "Damn," muttered Iblis. "What's going one, here?" demanded Starbuck, as the tot started smearing some of the cream on his nose. It too became lighter. White even. He turned as Iblis ahemmed loudly, and stamped his foot. "Can we get back to the matter at hand, please?" asked the Lord of Darkness, unfortunately they were all out of cold cream to lighten him up. "I'm supposed to be annihilating the Schmuckliegh Minor system with a choking miasma of malignant evil at three. Time presses." "Huh? Oh, right," said Starbuck, as the little girl looked back towards her mother. Miri looked chagrined, and moved backwards. Starbuck picked up his sword again, when suddenly... * * * * * "You want what?" Apollo stared at Vela as if bewitched, "MAJOR DORIAN!" the voice yelled. "Really? No majorettes?" Starbuck asked in disappointment. "NO!" number two reiterated. "Well, then, I don't know that I want to finish it." Starbuck replied indignantly. Just at that moment he heard a voice cry out, "the plane, boss, the plane!" The large white ball bounced a small recorder onto his lap and the recorder then said, "Welcome to Fantasy Island... I mean Fantasy Village." Just then, the enormous white ball let out an enormous raspberry and deflated on the spot. Starbuck looked up to see... "Boomer!" he cried out in relief. * * * * * "Apollo, it's been too long." Vela told him as she snuggled up next to him in the vibrating bed in the Inn for Lustful and Lewd Lovers. "Quit complaining, Vela. Nothing I can do... " Frack, the bed had stopped vibrating again. It was sucking more cubits out of him than Vela's child support payments. "Schnookums, plug the meter, would ya?" Vela suggested as she ran heron-spun stockings for good measure." "Highly irregular." Lucifer repeated as he gathered the items and popped them under the lid. He hit 'send' once again. Boxey, luckily, was still on a roll. "Well?" he asked Athena as he peered through the glass screen. She was nowhere to be seen. "Don't need nothin', but a good time, how can I resist? Ain't lookin' for nothin', but a good time, and it don't get better than this!" Athena sang as she skipped down the corridor. "Lieutenant?" Lucifer called through the wormhole. "That's my Aunty?" Igraine stared at the woman doing the funky chicken as she strutted down the corridor clutching her fabulous new lingerie. "That's it! I'm staying, Grandpa!" * * * * * Boomer thought about jumping down to the ground below him, but his chaps just didn't have the flexibility to effectively achieve that range of motion. Luckily, the mini-man was very helpful. A tall ladder rolled over to where Boomer was perched and he immediately descebewildered and befuddled... which he was. He had been dragged through an excruciating series of episodes thinking that the woman intended to whack him with a paternity case and take his hard earned cubits and pension when all she really wanted was... "Customizing to the nth degree. That chartreuse carpeting has to go! I'm thinking dark blue velvet with matching curtains. Oh, and the seats pull out into a bed. I want some mag wheels, spoilers, surround sound system, digital holovids, pop-up potty with an auto-evac flushing system and a mini-bar. Now, mirrored ceilings would be nice..." She caught Apollo's shocked visage. "Well, then I can keep an eye on the kids when I'm driving... I mean piloting." "That's it? You just want me to customize your van?" he asked again. "Mini-shuttle!" Several people corrected him. "Oh, and the piece de resistance! I want that friend of yours, you know, the artist?" She pointed to Cadet Pelias off camera. "I want him to pai leg suggestively up the Captain's thigh. Apollo smiled indulgently. Lords, she... she... Sheba!!!! Sheba was going to blast him into next yahren if she heard about this!! * * * * * "What, kid?" Blip asthed again. Lordth, isth'ths affected the narrator now! "I need change for a cubit." Boxey reminded Blip. Blip stharted counting out change from histh belt. "Here ya go-go, kid." "I love this place. I hope we can stay a while." Boxey gushed as he rushed back into Sire Uri's Corruption of Innocent Young Souls and Delinquency Through Mindless and Morally Questionable Video Games Arcade. * * * * * "Okay, I have an idea." Athena told them as she stared longingly at the expensive lingerie through the wormhole. "Bulb-boy, do you see that black lacy bra behind you?" "This one?" Lucifer held up a garish example of lingerie. "NO!" Athena responded. "Lords, what was I thinking asking a robot wearing a shiny gold cape, to pick out a sexy bra?" "Oh, tnded to Starbuck's level... oh, Lords, that was a scary thought! "Boomer, thank the Lords! Get me out of here. They're trying to make me read an entire novel!" Starbuck whined as he fought against the restraints. "Hey, wait a centon, that's a great story!" Boomer exclaimed as he looked at the mammoth screen displaying the script. "The intricate plot, the detailed characterizations, the history, the mystery!" Boomer fairly oozed, as he simultaneously emailed the writer asking for the pre-arranged amount of cubits for the extra plug. "Boomer, what are you talking about? The fracking world is going crazy and you're plugging a story!" The mini-man held up a sign, "It was pretty great!" "It really was, Bucko!" Boomer agreed. After all, he was featured in it more than Starbuck was! It was beautiful really. He had been frolicking with Athena solving mysteries while Starbuck was stuck on disciplinary duty. Ah, those were the days, my friend! "Boomer, what is that black annt the outside of the van." "It would be my pleasure, Madam. Will I be getting paid? I haven't had a cheque since resigning from the service." Pelias asked, hope shining brightly in his eyes. Yeah, the arts was a tougher gig than battling shape- shifting aliens. "Of course, Apollo will pay you." Vela smiled. "Whatever the going rate is." "What do you want on the vanscape?" Pelias asked. "Shuttlescape." They reminded him. He shrugged. If they were going to pay him, he'd call it whatever they wanted him to. "Oh, `Vela's Veeta' on one side, and `Vela's Mints' on the other. And maybe some illustrations of the product. It's good advertising for my business." She looked at the assembly, unsure why they were all groaning. "Wonderful ideas." Pelias winced inwardly. Cubits, cubits, cubits, he repeated in his head. He could do it. Money is good, starving is bad. "By the way, where is your mini-shuttle?" "Cordugo Pit Parking Lot." Velhe sexy one with the underwire. Well, why didn't you say so?" Lucifer asked her as he pulled the naughty little number off of the hanger. Little did she know he had one just like it back on the base ship. He used the cups to store his extra diodes in. "Good. Now put it in the fax machine." Athena directed him. "And make sure someone is playing that Cylons-a-Go-Go game." Lucifer looked in to see that, in fact, Boxey was playing the game. He was winning too. The game started paying off and Lucifer pressed the send button. Whirrrr-bing!!!!! Athena looked down at the deck to see her coveted brassiere awaiting her. "Did it work?" Lucifer asked. "Uh... not enough data to commit to that so far." Athena replied. After all, she had been on the bridge for a while now. "Do you see the matching panties? Send those too." "Well, this seems highly irregular as research goes... " Lucifer started. "Send them!!" Athena yelled. "And add the garter belts with those crawld blue stuff hanging about you?" Starbuck asked, noticing his evil aura for the first time. "It's really unbecoming, Buddy." "What is it with you?" Boomer asked as he leaned down over his restrained colleague. "Don't you get it? I'm after the lead role here. You're going down, Starbuck!" Starbuck gaped at his... former friend. He was stunned. He shook his head as if the motion could dispel the truth. Suddenly, his clothes seemed too tight. He felt subdued and suppressed. Oh, right, that would be the duct tape and the seat belts. "But Boomer, we've been friends for yahrens!" "Never mind that now. I've had a better offer." Boomer replied grinning. "But first I have to find... the item." Boomer reached over and tore a strip off of Starbuck. "Aarrgghh!!" Starbuck screamed as a superficial layer of epithelium left his skin with the duct tape. "Who killed Major Dorian?" Number Two yelled. "Where is the item?" Boomer yelled. "Apollo!" Starbuck yelled. "Help me!" a replied. She looked to Boomer and Hummer. "Hey, Bummer, would you care to give us a lift on your he'enalu board?" "That's my vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside. No problemo, Dudette. Are you coming, Boomer?" "Nah, I think I'll stay here." Boomer replied, deciding that when the writers started to refer to him and Hummer in one breath as `Bummer' in two consecutive episodes, it was time to break up the dynamic duo. "Boomer, you're needed for the next scene in Hades Hole with Starbuck and the Baby Bummers... I mean Boomers." Someone called from off the set. "Oh? Well, all right then. I'll tag along. Could you drop me in Hades Hole, Hummer?" Boomer agreeably agreed. "Easy peasy, Pal. I think I have this whole navigation thing down to a science." He snorted in self- amusement. "Get it? Science?" Yep, it was definitely time to part company with theon-spun stockings for good measure." "Highly irregular." Lucifer repeated as he gathered the items and popped them under the lid. He hit 'send' once again. Boxey, luckily, was still on a roll. "Well?" he asked Athena as he peered through the glass screen. She was nowhere to be seen. "Don't need nothin', but a good time, how can I resist? Ain't lookin' for nothin', but a good time, and it don't get better than this!" Athena sang as she skipped down the corridor. "Lieutenant?" Lucifer called through the wormhole. "That's my Aunty?" Igraine stared at the woman doing the funky chicken as she strutted down the corridor clutching her fabulous new lingerie. "That's it! I'm staying, Grandpa!" * * * * * Boomer thought about jumping down to the ground below him, but his chaps just didn't have the flexibility to effectively achieve that range of motion. Luckily, the mini-man was very helpful. A tall ladder rolled over to where Boomer was perched and he immediately desce * * * * * "Well, Hummer," Wilker turned the lump over in his hands which had clearly once been a malodourous Portable Electrically Powered Individual Pelvic Region Vaso-Dilator and Neurological Stimulator. "It just needs a good cleaning." Hummer looked at the melted lump. Scientifically, it just didn't make sense. This little device had sat on a shelf in a cardboard box for at least three or four episodes, stinking up corridors, chambers and nares. How could that be related to it just needing a good cleaning? "Uh... say again, Dude?" "It just needs a good cleaning." Wilker repeated. "I had one. I ought to know. You have to take care of your electronic equipment especially if you want it to take care of you... I mean your wife." Wilker added as an afterthought. Hummer moved to a station further away. * * * * * "Did you hear something?" Apollo asked sitting up in the vibrating bed. "You mean Starbuck calling for help?" Vela asked. "Exactly!" Apollo jump technician. "Launch when ready." Boomer hollered as he, Vela, the kids and Hummer stood on the board, pointed in the general direction of the vortex. * * * * * "Iblis, I expected more of you." Starbuck growled at the Count, waving his sword. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but I know the child isn't mine." "Blast." Iblis shrugged, realizing the folly. "Time for plan `B'." "Plan B?" Starbuck asked, trying to pull his leg free of the engaging child. "Yes, it's always good to have a backup plan, Lieutenant. Since I can't demoralize you by making you believe the child is yours, I will destroy them." Iblis returned, raising a hand towards the woman and child. "Wait just a centon!" Starbuck cried, as a large bouncy ball flew at his head from nowhere, hitting him square in the forehead. "Oww! What the frack was that for?" We've issued a moratorium on the uttering of that phrase. The little butler guy was back. "nded to Starbuck's level... oh, Lords, that was a scary thought! "Boomer, thank the Lords! Get me out of here. They're trying to make me read an entire novel!" Starbuck whined as he fought against the restraints. "Hey, wait a centon, that's a great story!" Boomer exclaimed as he looked at the mammoth screen displaying the script. "The intricate plot, the detailed characterizations, the history, the mystery!" Boomer fairly oozed, as he simultaneously emailed the writer asking for the pre-arranged amount of cubits for the extra plug. "Boomer, what are you talking about? The fracking world is going crazy and you're plugging a story!" The mini-man held up a sign, "It was pretty great!" "It really was, Bucko!" Boomer agreed. After all, he was featured in it more than Starbuck was! It was beautiful really. He had been frolicking with Athena solving mysteries while Starbuck was stuck on disciplinary duty. Ah, those were the days, my friend! "Boomer, what is that black aned out of the bed. Good ole Starbuck. Even when he was mysteriously missing, he was still helping his friend out of uncomfortable situations. "No, I didn't hear a thing." Vela told him, but she knew it was too late when the Captain started searching the room. "Don't look under the bed, Baby." Apollo immediately jumped down on hands and knees, looking for the connecting passageway that would get him to Starbuck and away from Vela. "Yuck! You should see the stuff under this bed! And I'm not talking about dust bunnies either!" * * * * * What did Apollo find under the bed? What is Boomer searching for on Starbuck that Memnoch is after? Will Starbuck find the missing chapters and be spurred on to finish Bones, now that he knows there are no Majorettes in the story? Will Apollo find Starbuck before he is reduced to playing `bit parts'? What happened to the mini-van with the chartreuse carpeting? Can a mini-man drive a mini-van... I mean shuttle. Stay tuned... or just tune back inWhat phrase? `What the frack?'" Starbuck asked. No, the other one. "Wait just a centon?" Starbuck asked. A second bouncy ball, this one much large than the other, and coloured in a pleasant array of pastel swirls, hit him in the head. "Oww!" Starbuck cried again. "He doesn't learn, does he?" Iblis commented, lowering his hand and shaking his head. "Really?" Starbuck snarled. He moved closer to the Count. "Just a centon!" he yelled. Again, an even larger ball flew at him from off set. This time, however, he agilely stepped aside and the enormous orb hit Iblis in the head. "Just a centon!" Starbuck yelled again, twisting to the right as a humungous ball flew past him, again striking the count. "Damn you to Hades Hole!" Iblis cried as he fell to the ground. "If it's all the same to you, I don't think I'll give you the opportunity." Starbuck grinned. "Just a centon! Just a centon! Just a centon! Just a centd blue stuff hanging about you?" Starbuck asked, noticing his evil aura for the first time. "It's really unbecoming, Buddy." "What is it with you?" Boomer asked as he leaned down over his restrained colleague. "Don't you get it? I'm after the lead role here. You're going down, Starbuck!" Starbuck gaped at his... former friend. He was stunned. He shook his head as if the motion could dispel the truth. Suddenly, his clothes seemed too tight. He felt subdued and suppressed. Oh, right, that would be the duct tape and the seat belts. "But Boomer, we've been friends for yahrens!" "Never mind that now. I've had a better offer." Boomer replied grinning. "But first I have to find... the item." Boomer reached over and tore a strip off of Starbuck. "Aarrgghh!!" Starbuck screamed as a superficial layer of epithelium left his skin with the duct tape. "Who killed Major Dorian?" Number Two yelled. "Where is the item?" Boomer yelled. "Apollo!" Starbuck yelled. "Help me!" ... to the next edition of the `Boomer Still Trying To Usurp Starbuck Chronicles', when you'll hear Sheba say, "I'll show you. Put me on long-range patrol for 51 episodes so you can go out and... " Our Story to date- As you are doubtless unaware, Starbuck, after a particularly challenging game of Triad, hit the turbowash. Little did our unsuspecting hero realize that devious forces were plotting equally devious things for. He was gassed, and awoke, scantily clad, on an altar stone, about to be sacrificed by a group of scantily clad priestesses, having some still unclear connection to the Atori Sect. However, he was saved, not only by Glen Larson popping in with script revisions, and the make-up girl redoing his face, but one of the priestesses deciding that our golden, shirtless angst- driven boy would be better used for...well, less sacrificial purposes, if you get my drift. With the bizarre and unexpected appearance of Siress Belloby, Starbuck escaped a fate worse than priestesseon! Just a centon! Just a centon! Just a centon! Just a centon! Just a centon! Just a centon! Just a centon! Just a centon!" he cried, dodging balls left, right and center with the agility and grace of the star athlete he was, as the projectiles continuously pelted the Count. Cool! Dodge Ball. The butler guy grinned, batting the odd ball with his signpost as he stood by. Suddenly, a crash of thunder filled the air, and an equally impressive bolt of lightening shot across the sky. On the tail end of it was Bummer on their he'enalu board.. "Drop me here, Hummer." Boomer yelled out, looking below to see what appeared to be the Fisher Price Popcorn Lawnmower with Starbuck, Count Iblis, the little butler guy, a young woman and a child in the middle of it. "Sure thing, Boomer. Good luck!" Hummer cried, riding the arc of the lightening until Boomer was safe enough to jump. Boomer jumped down beside Starbuck, turning to assess the young woman. It * * * * * "Well, Hummer," Wilker turned the lump over in his hands which had clearly once been a malodourous Portable Electrically Powered Individual Pelvic Region Vaso-Dilator and Neurological Stimulator. "It just needs a good cleaning." Hummer looked at the melted lump. Scientifically, it just didn't make sense. This little device had sat on a shelf in a cardboard box for at least three or four episodes, stinking up corridors, chambers and nares. How could that be related to it just needing a good cleaning? "Uh... say again, Dude?" "It just needs a good cleaning." Wilker repeated. "I had one. I ought to know. You have to take care of your electronic equipment especially if you want it to take care of you... I mean your wife." Wilker added as an afterthought. Hummer moved to a station further away. * * * * * "Did you hear something?" Apollo asked sitting up in the vibrating bed. "You mean Starbuck calling for help?" Vela asked. "Exactly!" Apollo jumps, and found himself in a prison cell, aboard Baltar's BaseShip, in the company of Boomer, Apollo, and Belloby (who mperiodically cackles about "my plan"), for no adequately explored reason, other than they had mysteriously gone from looking for Starbuck, to being on a planet looking for tylium, and then flying home only to run smack in to six very ugly BaseShips. Lucifer, the IL Series Cylon aide to Baltar, was filling them in on what was going to happen if they did not give him the location of the Galactica, when Centurion Stercuscaput appeared, again for no logical reason, and ruined one of Lisa's plotlines. Having convinced Lucifer to help them escape with a promise of fresh diodes, our Colonial heroes, Starbuck now dressed in duct tape (but needing some serious cleaning as well as a visit to a turboflush!) and Apollo singing a duet badly with Baltar, got rid of the sarcastic and manically depressed Marv...Stercuscaput, and simultaneously disabling Imperious Leader in the process (Bellobywas Miri. "Dear God... Miri ...what are you doing here? I thought I'd never see you again!" It had been the most amazing love affair of his life. He had known her for only moments, but that was all it took for him to fall head over heels in love with her. Their passion had burned brightly, but the flame had been extinguished far too soon. Miri had not been willing to leave her family behind on Attila to leave with him. It had broken his heart. "Uh... how did you manage to fit in a sexual encounter while I was changing clothes on Attila, Boom- Boom?" Starbuck asked. "Ever hear tell of foreplay?" "Well, at least I can manage to keep my clothes on for most of the scenes." Boomer returned to his half- dressed friend. "Boomer! Oh, Boomer!" Miri flew into his arms. "I heard Starbuck was here, and I just knew you would show up sooner or later!" Boomer held her tightly, inhaling her scent, before noticing the small child still clutching Starbuck's leed out of the bed. Good ole Starbuck. Even when he was mysteriously missing, he was still helping his friend out of uncomfortable situations. "No, I didn't hear a thing." Vela told him, but she knew it was too late when the Captain started searching the room. "Don't look under the bed, Baby." Apollo immediately jumped down on hands and knees, looking for the connecting passageway that would get him to Starbuck and away from Vela. "Yuck! You should see the stuff under this bed! And I'm not talking about dust bunnies either!" * * * * * What did Apollo find under the bed? What is Boomer searching for on Starbuck that Memnoch is after? Will Starbuck find the missing chapters and be spurred on to finish Bones, now that he knows there are no Majorettes in the story? Will Apollo find Starbuck before he is reduced to playing `bit parts'? What happened to the mini-van with the chartreuse carpeting? Can a mini-man drive a mini-van... I mean shuttle. Stay tuned... or just tune back in's voice will do that!), and made it to the launch bay. Whilst all this was going on, Cassieopiea and Boxey were looking for Starbuck; Cassie because she was concerned, Boxey because his and Muffit's agent said he wasn't getting enough screen time. No one seems to know waht happened to Cassie, but Boxey and his trusty daggit got on the scent of trouble, eventually ending up in Commander Adama's quarters under a pile of lingerie. Boxey also found a smoldering cardboard box, which Adama grabbed, and Athena threw into the corridor, where it exploded, much to the annoyance of Colonel Tigh, who happened to be in the corridor at the time. Suddenly, they were confronted by a melted hunk of plastic, a whole bunch of singed lingerie, and a group of kids all calling Adama grandpa. Now, if you recall, upon entering the Cylon launch bay, cleverly labelled "Launch Bay", our heroes had run smack dab into a smolderingly sexy babe, with a miniva...shuttle, who not only took them to the planet righg. "Miri? Who's this?" his voice was quiet, his eyes already damp with unshed tears. "Boomer, this is Jasmine. Your daughter. Honey, come see Daddy." The child suddenly looked up at Starbuck with wide eyes. "You're not my Daddy!" she accused him, as though it had been all his idea. Starbuck smiled at the cherub. "No sweetheart, he's over there with your Mommy." Suddenly, from beneath a pile of balls, Iblis roared in anger. He stood up, raising his arms and started rhyming off incantations, none of which come to mind right now, but I assure you, they were all evil, wicked and spoken in the Devil's Tongue-which sounds something like Latin, but with much more spewing forth of spittle and other things disgusting, which is why you will ultimately need a large cloth to wipe your chin. Now, where was I? Each ball began to mutate, twisting and writhing as demons arose from the seemingly innocuous toys. They formed a line, facing our heroes, un... to the next edition of the `Boomer Still Trying To Usurp Starbuck Chronicles', when you'll hear Sheba say, "I'll show you. Put me on long-range patrol for 51 episodes so you can go out and... " Our Story to date- As you are doubtless unaware, Starbuck, after a particularly challenging game of Triad, hit the turbowash. Little did our unsuspecting hero realize that devious forces were plotting equally devious things for. He was gassed, and awoke, scantily clad, on an altar stone, about to be sacrificed by a group of scantily clad priestesses, having some still unclear connection to the Atori Sect. However, he was saved, not only by Glen Larson popping in with script revisions, and the make-up girl redoing his face, but one of the priestesses deciding that our golden, shirtless angst- driven boy would be better used for...well, less sacrificial purposes, if you get my drift. With the bizarre and unexpected appearance of Siress Belloby, Starbuck escaped a fate worse than priestesset in front of them (which wasn't either Equellus or Earth, if you must know), but claimed that she was Vela, and was the mother of FOUR children sired by Apollo during his sojourn on Equellus. Despite the improbability of this, along with alot of the rest of this whole line of daggit-drivel, she takes them from the BaseShip, down to what turns out to be the planet of Cordugo Pit, the foulest, vilest, wickedest, most putridly disgustingly rancidly hideously maggot-ridden festering cesspool of sin and corruption this side of Pasadena City Hall. A planet that makes Sodom and Gomorrah like like a girl's school. A place that...well, you get the picture, okay? While there, after being taken to visit Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel and Fooling Around Paraphenalia Emporium, a bizarre interaction occures between a video game next door,* in Sire Uri's Corruption of Innocent Young Souls and Delinquency Through Mindless and Morally Questionable Video Games Arcade, and a fax machine. The upshot of this is thtil forty strong they stood. "Frack." Starbuck muttered in horror, looking across at the demonic forms, many of them taking the shape of enemies of his past. Boomer slugged him in the arm. "Not in front of my daughter, Starbuck." "Right. Sorry." He replied. "What in Hades do we do now?" "I know exactly what to do." Boomer replied, as he paused, and then slugged Starbuck in the arm again. "Not in front of my daughter. We form our own line." He stood beside Starbuck, hands on his hips. Across from them, the demons of Iblis mimicked him, each putting hands to hips. Suddenly, and unexpectedly, the butler guy stood beside them. He held up a sign. Red Rover, Red Rover, send the ghost of Ortega right over! "Brilliant!" Starbuck cried. "For a centon there, I thought we were going to start Irish dancing." WILL Starbuck and Boomer prevail against Count Iblis and his line of forty Demons? IS it likely that the demons kns, and found himself in a prison cell, aboard Baltar's BaseShip, in the company of Boomer, Apollo, and Belloby (who mperiodically cackles about "my plan"), for no adequately explored reason, other than they had mysteriously gone from looking for Starbuck, to being on a planet looking for tylium, and then flying home only to run smack in to six very ugly BaseShips. Lucifer, the IL Series Cylon aide to Baltar, was filling them in on what was going to happen if they did not give him the location of the Galactica, when Centurion Stercuscaput appeared, again for no logical reason, and ruined one of Lisa's plotlines. Having convinced Lucifer to help them escape with a promise of fresh diodes, our Colonial heroes, Starbuck now dressed in duct tape (but needing some serious cleaning as well as a visit to a turboflush!) and Apollo singing a duet badly with Baltar, got rid of the sarcastic and manically depressed Marv...Stercuscaput, and simultaneously disabling Imperious Leader in the process (Bellobyat a wormhole is opened between the planet, and the Galactica, allowing the children to reach the Battlestar, and transporting Boxey to the arcade. Now, Apollo and Vela have retreated across the street, to the Lewd And Lustful Lovers (which charges by the centar, BTW, if you ever get there), to engage in some, well, lewd and lustful lovers stuff. Meanwhile...while trying to peel his chewing gummed body off the floor of Vela's miniv...shuttle, Starbuck was kidnapped, and taken to some sort of wallaby court, where he meet Sire Memnoch, the lesser known brother of the obscure Sire Memnon (please check episode 13 of the Virtual Season), who wants something from him. But what? Starbuck is taken to another dark room, where a mysteriously-robed figure, identifying himself only as "Number Two", demands information from our hero. Through the good offices of a mute midget butler, Starbuck finds that he is required to tell Number Two who the killer was at the end of Episode 13. Only Starbuck ow how to Irish Dance? CAN Ortega's ghost break through the meager line of defense? HOW can Apollo get back in time to help his friends? WHERE can they possibly go from here? Jig and reel your way into the next episode of the Starbuck Chronicles when you'll hear Maga, Taba and Bora say, "If Flatley makes us do one more high kick, we'll pound him into the ground until he's lower than a Borellian Sand Serpens." ======= Against my better judgment, we interrupt your usual programming for this special presentation in fabulous Technicolour. Here we'll answer all your questions and meet all your expectations-as long as you have none. When we last ran away screaming from our heroes, Starbuck, Boomer, Miri and the little Butler Guy were standing in an alternate dimension-turn left at Hades Hole and sprint down the back alley until you can smell the... uh, never mind... - against forty demons, all enemies of Starbuck incidentally. Yes, he had at least forty... the others didn't show's voice will do that!), and made it to the launch bay. Whilst all this was going on, Cassieopiea and Boxey were looking for Starbuck; Cassie because she was concerned, Boxey because his and Muffit's agent said he wasn't getting enough screen time. No one seems to know waht happened to Cassie, but Boxey and his trusty daggit got on the scent of trouble, eventually ending up in Commander Adama's quarters under a pile of lingerie. Boxey also found a smoldering cardboard box, which Adama grabbed, and Athena threw into the corridor, where it exploded, much to the annoyance of Colonel Tigh, who happened to be in the corridor at the time. Suddenly, they were confronted by a melted hunk of plastic, a whole bunch of singed lingerie, and a group of kids all calling Adama grandpa. Now, if you recall, upon entering the Cylon launch bay, cleverly labelled "Launch Bay", our heroes had run smack dab into a smolderingly sexy babe, with a miniva...shuttle, who not only took them to the planet righdoesn't know! Also meanwhile, Boomer, increasingly enveloped in an evil aura of, well...evil, has been seeking to usurp Starbuck's place in this whole epic, and between stealing lingerie and putting on some really sexy chaps, has apparently struck a deal with Memnoch, to obtain a certain "item" from Starbuck. WHAT IS THIS ITEM????? you may ask? I'll tell you... I don't know. But, in attempting to get it, Boomer crawls along a conveniently positioned air vent over Starbuck's head, and pushes "PLAY" on the Sony Walkperson (Model F2) Memnoch has given him. Supposedly, the sounds produced will neutarlize the weird thing guarding Starbuck (now reading the 13th story), a giant bouncing white balloon called Rover. (Starbuck is reading it, not Rover.) Boomer plays the tape, only to find out it's the wrong one, and he drops it right onto the fearsome balloon. They all look up, and Boomer drops down into the room. Meanwhile... Wilker is in his lab, and has discovered that the mel up. What had at first appeared to be the beginning of an Irish Line Dance in true jig and reel fashion, turned into a rousing game of Red Rover, whereby the Butler Guy had just called over the ghost of Ortega. So loosen yer breeks, toss back yer whiskey, and slip oot yer clogs-do whatever it takes to prepare you for the 73rd adventure of the Starbuck Chronicles. "All right everybody, here he comes!" Starbuck exclaimed, watching the ghostly reflection of Ortega glare balefully at him as the former Colonial Warrior, now deceased, ran across the open spaces heading straight for Starbuck... at least it appeared that way from several hundred metrons away. "Uh... question, Bucko. If he's only an apparition, how do we stop him?" Boomer asked, locking arms with his friend. Ortega was definitely heading for Starbuck. You'd think he'd pick on the little Butler Guy, or the soft and sensual Miri, but nooooo! "Huh?" Starbuck asked. Honestly, it hadn't really occurred tot in front of them (which wasn't either Equellus or Earth, if you must know), but claimed that she was Vela, and was the mother of FOUR children sired by Apollo during his sojourn on Equellus. Despite the improbability of this, along with alot of the rest of this whole line of daggit-drivel, she takes them from the BaseShip, down to what turns out to be the planet of Cordugo Pit, the foulest, vilest, wickedest, most putridly disgustingly rancidly hideously maggot-ridden festering cesspool of sin and corruption this side of Pasadena City Hall. A planet that makes Sodom and Gomorrah like like a girl's school. A place that...well, you get the picture, okay? While there, after being taken to visit Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel and Fooling Around Paraphenalia Emporium, a bizarre interaction occures between a video game next door,* in Sire Uri's Corruption of Innocent Young Souls and Delinquency Through Mindless and Morally Questionable Video Games Arcade, and a fax machine. The upshot of this is thted item was, in fact, a Portable Electrically Powered Individual Pelvic Region Vaso-Dilator and Neurological Stimulator, manufactured by the Sire Uri Naughty Toys And Other Things Your Mother Wouldn't Approve Of Manufacturing Company... oh Hades, don't you know by now? He discovers that his wife had the same model, but didn't get it on sale. His assistant, Technician Humuhumunukunukuapua'a, moves a few descreet benches away. While all this isn't making any sense, Apollo and Vela are fully absorbed in attempting to produce more siblings for those already produced, Apollo "hears" something, and despite Vela's admonitions to the contrary, looks under the bed. Okay, y'all caught up now? 'k. Whew!!! *It was the Miss Hooters Target Practice Game, for those who must know. Bootes Jr. won a bottle of (cheap) ambrosia for a bovine's-eye hit right on her leftThe Starbuck Chronicles Part 53 Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle. "Shh!" "What do you mean, Shh?" " him until Boomer mentioned it. "Uh... good question. What did they do in the Virtual Season when Apollo and Sheba met up with the ship of demons?" "Uh... can't recall really." Boomer returned. "Miri? Do you know?" "Me? I wasn't there! I was doing that juicy number over at RKO, remember? Weren't you there?" she returned. "No... I was... frack, where the heck was I?" Boomer looked to Starbuck. "I don't know where you were, Buddy. No, wait. You were in Alaska, manning a radar station, in that made for TV flick with Cathy Lee Crosby. I think I was just growing my hair... as usual." Starbuck replied with a wry grin. "I... uh... wasn't privy to it all. Just like Bones. They kind of kept me in the dark, which isn't good for a fellow of my complexion." "Hey, I thought Sen filled you in on Bones." "Sen, huh? You two must be tight, Boom-Boom. Oh, right. You were featured in that story. I keep forgetting." Boomer shrugged, looking cat a wormhole is opened between the planet, and the Galactica, allowing the children to reach the Battlestar, and transporting Boxey to the arcade. Now, Apollo and Vela have retreated across the street, to the Lewd And Lustful Lovers (which charges by the centar, BTW, if you ever get there), to engage in some, well, lewd and lustful lovers stuff. Meanwhile...while trying to peel his chewing gummed body off the floor of Vela's miniv...shuttle, Starbuck was kidnapped, and taken to some sort of wallaby court, where he meet Sire Memnoch, the lesser known brother of the obscure Sire Memnon (please check episode 13 of the Virtual Season), who wants something from him. But what? Starbuck is taken to another dark room, where a mysteriously-robed figure, identifying himself only as "Number Two", demands information from our hero. Through the good offices of a mute midget butler, Starbuck finds that he is required to tell Number Two who the killer was at the end of Episode 13. Only Starbuck Shh!!" a chorus of soft, lilting voices joined the first. "Oh... shh. Okay." She joined the others in making their way through the sparsely lit area. "Is that it?" One of them asked. "No." It was the wrong colour, yahren and model. They all looked at her with disdain. "Sorry," she remarked. Since their leader had disappeared leaving them without purpose or clear and precise directions, she had felt a little confused. Her first thought had been to vote on changing their official uniform to something more shapely and less... robe-like. However, the robes were handy for hiding her ceremonial dirk in, her sisters had reminded her. They had gone a long way to pick up this plot line... uh, I mean, find him. They were still on their seemingly endless journey. It would all culminate in the back of a 7335 Beige Voyeur Mini-shuttle... with chartreuse carpeting. That's where the chosen one would be. After all, rumour had it, it might not have been a dream. Aha! There it was. The hagrined. "Sagan's sake, Starbuck. You have the Chrons..." "And, no, Senmut didn't fill me in on Bones! He locked me in a room, tied to an armchair, until I read the script." Did you resist? asked the little Butler Guy. "Well, yeah. For a while. But I had to sit there, watching all those old Technicolor travelogues, not to mention three Crime Does Not Pay shorts from M-G-M, till I cracked." "Oh you poor dear!" said Miri, embracing him, and cradling his head against her full, young, tender, swelling...well, you get the picture. "A fella can only take so many good endings," moaned Starbuck, handing her a tube of Clearisil for her full, young, tender, swelling pimples. Well, what did you think he meant? It was good! The Butler Guy insisted. Admit it. And Children Of Zohr was fab too. "What about mine?" asked another voice, from the back. Had me checking the weather forecast for weeks, Eric, replied the Butler Guy. Had to drydoesn't know! Also meanwhile, Boomer, increasingly enveloped in an evil aura of, well...evil, has been seeking to usurp Starbuck's place in this whole epic, and between stealing lingerie and putting on some really sexy chaps, has apparently struck a deal with Memnoch, to obtain a certain "item" from Starbuck. WHAT IS THIS ITEM????? you may ask? I'll tell you... I don't know. But, in attempting to get it, Boomer crawls along a conveniently positioned air vent over Starbuck's head, and pushes "PLAY" on the Sony Walkperson (Model F2) Memnoch has given him. Supposedly, the sounds produced will neutarlize the weird thing guarding Starbuck (now reading the 13th story), a giant bouncing white balloon called Rover. (Starbuck is reading it, not Rover.) Boomer plays the tape, only to find out it's the wrong one, and he drops it right onto the fearsome balloon. They all look up, and Boomer drops down into the room. Meanwhile... Wilker is in his lab, and has discovered that the melVoyeur! The small group of women approached stealthily. They drew their dirks as they approached the rear hatch. One gave the signal, as the hatch was pulled open. Nothing. He was not there. The priestesses were once again denied their prize. All that remained were a large than life piece of chewing gum and a few dirty nappies. The shuttle bay suddenly filled with maniacal laughter. /Bwahahahahahahaha!/ * * * * Apollo stared at the grunge, grime and grotesqueness as he peeked under the bed in the Inn For Lustful and Lewd Lovers. It would take a brave and honourable man to even think about peeling back the encrusted carpet, but Captain Apollo was just such a man. Besides, after doing the horizontal mambo with the incredibly fertile Vela, he could hardly wait to get out of there and the sudden sound of Starbuck crying out for help from an unknown location was his economy class ticket to ride. He reached for the sticky, filthy, disgusting, orange shag carpet, wondering if ted item was, in fact, a Portable Electrically Powered Individual Pelvic Region Vaso-Dilator and Neurological Stimulator, manufactured by the Sire Uri Naughty Toys And Other Things Your Mother Wouldn't Approve Of Manufacturing Company... oh Hades, don't you know by now? He discovers that his wife had the same model, but didn't get it on sale. His assistant, Technician Humuhumunukunukuapua'a, moves a few descreet benches away. While all this isn't making any sense, Apollo and Vela are fully absorbed in attempting to produce more siblings for those already produced, Apollo "hears" something, and despite Vela's admonitions to the contrary, looks under the bed. Okay, y'all caught up now? 'k. Whew!!! *It was the Miss Hooters Target Practice Game, for those who must know. Bootes Jr. won a bottle of (cheap) ambrosia for a bovine's-eye hit right on her leftThe Starbuck Chronicles Part 53 Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle. "Shh!" "What do you mean, Shh?" " Rover out and everything. "Never mind that now. How do we stop Ortega?" Boomer asked. He shrinks, ya know! "Try hanging him to dry, Butler Guy." Miri suggested helpfully. "And stick to the cold cycle next time. Arctic Powder is a good bet." "Ortega!" Boomer repeated. "How do we stop Ortega. Focus people." "Or Shaklee's Basic L. You might try that, too." "Hey!" Boomer raved. Was he the only one who took these situations seriously? Spiritual Repellent. The sound was haunting and seemed to resonate through the air as though it came from another time... another place... another script... Another show entirely, actually. Stop mooning about it! "What was that?" Starbuck asked, not quite catching it. Ah forget it. Once again the small man was relegated to the background, as the writers went off on another tangent featuring the vertically enhanced blond guy with blue eyes and little in the way of clothingthey also supplied chartreuse to Mini-shuttle manufacturers. He ripped it back to reveal a trap door. "Ah, Baby, do you have to?" Vela leaned over the bed to see what he was doing crawling around under their love nest. "Uh... yeah. Starbuck's my best friend, Vela. I have to help him if I can." Apollo averred as he plunged down the hole. He felt as though he was free falling as he descended deeper and deeper. It was as if he was entering the depths of Hades Hole itself. Suddenly, his descent slowed and he found himself suspended in mid-air like an insect in a crawlon's web. Strangely, as if being aided by a powerful, unknown force, he was lowered gently to the ground. An almost musical ringing came from the vacuous spaces surrounding him. He looked up at the mysterious chute he had fallen down, but the darkness revealed nothing. A soft, glowing light appeared, and with a sense of urgency, Apollo followed it. The ringing grew louder as he began to run down a narrow tunnel. TheShh!!" a chorus of soft, lilting voices joined the first. "Oh... shh. Okay." She joined the others in making their way through the sparsely lit area. "Is that it?" One of them asked. "No." It was the wrong colour, yahren and model. They all looked at her with disdain. "Sorry," she remarked. Since their leader had disappeared leaving them without purpose or clear and precise directions, she had felt a little confused. Her first thought had been to vote on changing their official uniform to something more shapely and less... robe-like. However, the robes were handy for hiding her ceremonial dirk in, her sisters had reminded her. They had gone a long way to pick up this plot line... uh, I mean, find him. They were still on their seemingly endless journey. It would all culminate in the back of a 7335 Beige Voyeur Mini-shuttle... with chartreuse carpeting. That's where the chosen one would be. After all, rumour had it, it might not have been a dream. Aha! There it was. The . Whatever it takes to please the readers, don't ya know! Spiritual Repellent. The wind picked up the phrase, swirling it around him, and repeating its message over and over... until it became a bit annoying. A vision appeared out of nowhere. It seemed to take the form of an old woman, her hair white and wild, her teeth gapped and ghastly, her clothing that of animal skins... Starbuck eyes narrowed as he followed its path-oddly he seemed to be the only one aware of it-as it hovered above the ground and then rose upward until it soared to the Empyrean!-Turn right at Hades Hole and keep going until you see a guy with white hair in flowing white robes standing in front of a burger stand... he'll direct you onward from there. He nodded skyward. "Thanks, I think." He nudged Boomer. "Did you get that?" "What?" "We use spiritual repellent." "Oh." Boomer looked at him long and hard, relieved that the space between them and Ortega was at least that of smell of brimstone hung heavily in the air and the further he went, the warmer the tunnel grew. Even the light itself, which at first appeared bluish, seemed to gradually change in colour until it burned a ferocious red. Apollo's heart pounded as the tunnel twisted. He lost track of the centons as he continued to follow the light. Sweat ran off him in torrents and he tried to not think about what might be at the end of the tunnel. His fear for his friend drove him on. * * * * * "Is this it?" Boomer asked as he pulled the fiftieth strip of duct tape off Starbuck. He didn't make a sound, probably because they had applied strip number three to his mouth after his constant whining and moaning. Boomer held a small envelope up to analyze. Starbuck sat in the chair quivering in shock. Once again, he was down to his triad short and nothing butt... I mean but. His restraints continued to hold him in place and he prayed that help would come soon. "What is that?" Number Two askedVoyeur! The small group of women approached stealthily. They drew their dirks as they approached the rear hatch. One gave the signal, as the hatch was pulled open. Nothing. He was not there. The priestesses were once again denied their prize. All that remained were a large than life piece of chewing gum and a few dirty nappies. The shuttle bay suddenly filled with maniacal laughter. /Bwahahahahahahaha!/ * * * * Apollo stared at the grunge, grime and grotesqueness as he peeked under the bed in the Inn For Lustful and Lewd Lovers. It would take a brave and honourable man to even think about peeling back the encrusted carpet, but Captain Apollo was just such a man. Besides, after doing the horizontal mambo with the incredibly fertile Vela, he could hardly wait to get out of there and the sudden sound of Starbuck crying out for help from an unknown location was his economy class ticket to ride. He reached for the sticky, filthy, disgusting, orange shag carpet, wondering if a couple of Battlestars end to end... otherwise, he'd surely be there by now. "Happen to have any?" "Uh... no." Meanwhile, across the field the demons were growing restless. "Why does this weak Human take so long to cross the field and annihilate the Lieutenant?" Taba asked the others. "I know not." Maga sneered, decidedly uncomfortable as he linked arms with his fellow ghosts and demons awaiting the attack. "Perhaps because he is weak?" Down the line he could see their tormentor, a skinny, blond haired guy with black boots who held his hands on his hips and pranced about like a frisky equine, kicking his feet in the air. "If Flatley makes us do one more high kick, we'll pound him into the ground until he's lower than a Borellian Sand Serpens." Maga, Bora and Taba growled as one. And everyone thought that Iblis was the Devil. "Come on," said Mrs. Peel. "These dance shoes were expensive!" Suddenly, the sky filled with strange looking sh menacingly. "Is it the answer I seek?" "Hades, I hope not." Boomer replied. Memnoch had sent him to look for the coveted tickets. If their sources were right, this would be them. How they ended up taped to Starbuck's back, they'd probably never know. Boomer opened up the envelope and pulled out two tickets. "I have them!!" he yelled triumphantly. "Mmph mmph mmph." Starbuck told him. "What?" Boomer asked. "Mmph mmph mmph." Starbuck repeated angrily. He twisted his head back and forth furiously, since it was all that would move. Boomer reached down and pulled the tape off the man's mouth. Rrrrrriiiiiiiippppppp!!!!! "Are you done?" Starbuck asked coolly. His eyes narrowed in fury. He expected this kind of treatment from his enemies, but not his friends. "Depends on what happens next. When Memnoch gets these, it might just put him in the right frame of mind to convince the producers to let me take the lead." Boomer replied evilly. His aura glowed unnaturally arothey also supplied chartreuse to Mini-shuttle manufacturers. He ripped it back to reveal a trap door. "Ah, Baby, do you have to?" Vela leaned over the bed to see what he was doing crawling around under their love nest. "Uh... yeah. Starbuck's my best friend, Vela. I have to help him if I can." Apollo averred as he plunged down the hole. He felt as though he was free falling as he descended deeper and deeper. It was as if he was entering the depths of Hades Hole itself. Suddenly, his descent slowed and he found himself suspended in mid-air like an insect in a crawlon's web. Strangely, as if being aided by a powerful, unknown force, he was lowered gently to the ground. An almost musical ringing came from the vacuous spaces surrounding him. He looked up at the mysterious chute he had fallen down, but the darkness revealed nothing. A soft, glowing light appeared, and with a sense of urgency, Apollo followed it. The ringing grew louder as he began to run down a narrow tunnel. Theips looking vaguely like a dagger with folded, vesperillion-like wings- take a deep breath and sit down with head between knees until deja-vu passes, 'k?-which started firing randomly, seemingly happy to kill anyone or anything in their path, even if it was already dead. Blood thirsty buggers, they were. "What the frack are those?" Boomer asked. "Uh... looks like spiritual repellent to me!" exclaimed Starbuck, punching a fist in the air as the demons went flying with another blast.. They're Ziklagoio! the Butler Guy informed them, searching for another paper source, as his pad had just about run out. Why didn't he get one of those erasable boards with a magic marker? Oh, why? Instead, he was forced to carry a dizzying amount of paper around with him. Hades, the guilt was chewing him up. How many trees had he killed by now, all in the name of communications! "What's a Ziklagoio?" Starbuck asked, but even as the question passed his lips, somehow it seemed fund him. "What are they?" The mini-butler held up a sign. "Tickets for 18 holes in Hades." Boomer replied with a grin. "Hades Holes?" Starbuck asked. "Why did you think we were talking about all this time? It's the most difficult course in the universe." Boomer replied. "Memnoch is going to take the producers. Lunch included of course. Open bar. Starbuck, the lead is as good as mine." Boomer grinned and snapped his whip. "But who killed Major Dorian?" Number two asked. "Wait for the frackin' movie. Should be out soon." Boomer replied. "Really?" The mini-man held up his sign. "Really." "Oh, well, let's go home then. Min, re-inflate Rover, would you? Let's go home." Number Two told him. "I've grown weary of these plot devices. Let's go over to the Avengers site and bother Steed for a while." "I think he has a new gig." The mini-man held up his sign. They moved off together along with Boomer hearing Starbuck cursing them from where he remained, r smell of brimstone hung heavily in the air and the further he went, the warmer the tunnel grew. Even the light itself, which at first appeared bluish, seemed to gradually change in colour until it burned a ferocious red. Apollo's heart pounded as the tunnel twisted. He lost track of the centons as he continued to follow the light. Sweat ran off him in torrents and he tried to not think about what might be at the end of the tunnel. His fear for his friend drove him on. * * * * * "Is this it?" Boomer asked as he pulled the fiftieth strip of duct tape off Starbuck. He didn't make a sound, probably because they had applied strip number three to his mouth after his constant whining and moaning. Boomer held a small envelope up to analyze. Starbuck sat in the chair quivering in shock. Once again, he was down to his triad short and nothing butt... I mean but. His restraints continued to hold him in place and he prayed that help would come soon. "What is that?" Number Two askedamiliar to him. You should know this, Bucko! "Sagan's sake, I think its a plot! The other stories are attacking!" screamed Miri, as she held her daughter behind her. Suddenly, a neon billboard rose out of the ground. Lords, the Empyreans and Ziklagoio Saved Me From Grappling To the Death with Count Iblis' Ship of Icky Demons and Zohrlochs who Grapple with Perceptions of Bones and other Buried Secrets and Relics of Twilly's amidst Nature's Furious Foe. "Maybe they're here to help!" Boomer cried as laser fire tore through the field and Ortega's ghost was vaporized in an instant. "And maybe not." Starbuck interjected, as he jumped out of the way of another burst of fire. "Hit the dirt!" He did so, and Boomer heard him grunt loudly. "Starbuck? You okay?" "My gum!" choked the Lieutenant, hand to throat. "I swallowed my gum!" "Your gun? Hades, if you had a gun all this time, why were you fooling around with that fool sword?" It was science festrained in his chair. For good measure they turned off the lights on the way out. * * * * * "So, you're saying Apollo has just left the seedy motel where he was sleeping with this `Vela' and is now rushing headway down a tunnel looking for Starbuck?" Sheba checked with Adama as she peered through the wormhole to Cordugo Pit. It was like watching a strange holovid. Every time one of the games in the arcade paid off, the screen seemed to fluctuate, as if changing channels, to reveal a different storyline which was simultaneously occurring in the bawdy, carnal, immoral, indecent, lecherous, pornographic, raunchy, salacious, vulgar, ribald hole known as Cordugo Pit. Her eyes flashed with anger as the screen narrowed in on Apollo's face. He looked intent upon his task. As usual, he was helping out Starbuck. Lords, those two practically lived in one another's pockets. How in Hades was a respectable woman supposed to compete with that whole `best-friend' thing? Especially, when the best iction at its worst. Not only was the probability of Starbuck swallowing his gun highly unlikely, but why had they done that whole Camelot/ Conan scene if Starbuck could have come out shooting? It boggled the mind really. "Bucko, remind me to not let you out of my sight again. You clearly need my help and guidance." He said gum! "Oh. Okay. Sorry, Bucko. My mistake." "Gghrrhkhchuugghghkk!" "Thanks. Me too." Suddenly, as he spoke, a laser bolt struck the fax/copier machine that was still on, over in Blip's place, back on Cordugo Pit, at Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel and Fooling Around Paraphernalia Emporium. The resultant interplay of energies led to a fusing of space/time localities, and both groups of our heroes were suddenly in the same room. (Sadly, Athena's lingerie did not make it!) So, WHAT will happen, as the baddies fly overhead, firing? WHERE is Iblis? Dibley? Rover? WHY are all the stories glopping into each other? WHY did we go all thes menacingly. "Is it the answer I seek?" "Hades, I hope not." Boomer replied. Memnoch had sent him to look for the coveted tickets. If their sources were right, this would be them. How they ended up taped to Starbuck's back, they'd probably never know. Boomer opened up the envelope and pulled out two tickets. "I have them!!" he yelled triumphantly. "Mmph mmph mmph." Starbuck told him. "What?" Boomer asked. "Mmph mmph mmph." Starbuck repeated angrily. He twisted his head back and forth furiously, since it was all that would move. Boomer reached down and pulled the tape off the man's mouth. Rrrrrriiiiiiiippppppp!!!!! "Are you done?" Starbuck asked coolly. His eyes narrowed in fury. He expected this kind of treatment from his enemies, but not his friends. "Depends on what happens next. When Memnoch gets these, it might just put him in the right frame of mind to convince the producers to let me take the lead." Boomer replied evilly. His aura glowed unnaturally arofriend in question had such a knack for getting himself in trouble. "I'll show you. Put me on long-range patrol for 51 episodes so you can go out and... " She stopped herself as she heard the Commander clear his throat uncomfortably. She had never flown through a wormhole before, but as Cain's daughter, that wasn't a deterrent. She would find the good Captain and when she did ...The corridor filled with maniacal laughter. Adama looked beside him to realize the laughter was coming from Lieutenant Sheba. He said a brief prayer for his son's continued safety. Coming soon to a BSG fanfiction list near you, the next anomalistic episode of the Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in to find out who will find Starbuck first, the dirk-carrying priestesses or the tired-of-carrying-Dirk Captain Apollo. And to hear Belloby gush, "Ooh, my pretties!" When we last left the boys, Starbuck was restrained in a dark room as a gang of priestesses with ceremonial dirks, as well as the refulgent example of be eps, and NOT know Starbuck was chewing gum? WHERE are the horny priestesses? WHEN did they grow horns? WILL all my cut scenes be restored? WHEN will Hades freeze over? WILL Eric finally post a reply, now that we've included him? SHOULD we post it for him? For the answers to these, and probably some other questions we'll manage to dredge up, don't miss the next polymorhically lugubrious episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear Adama say, "Just checking cattle futures." ======= New York Bans Bagels in the Workplace will not be seen at this time, in order that we may present the following equally hard to swallow program. Bodies were strewn around the room. Their condition unknown. Strewn everywhere. Really dramatic looking strewing, too. Just like the movies. Even Igraine was quiet for the moment, as was Sire Memnon's pencil sharpener. What soundst....room it was, nobody was sure, but for the first time in countless episodes, everyone, includund him. "What are they?" The mini-butler held up a sign. "Tickets for 18 holes in Hades." Boomer replied with a grin. "Hades Holes?" Starbuck asked. "Why did you think we were talking about all this time? It's the most difficult course in the universe." Boomer replied. "Memnoch is going to take the producers. Lunch included of course. Open bar. Starbuck, the lead is as good as mine." Boomer grinned and snapped his whip. "But who killed Major Dorian?" Number two asked. "Wait for the frackin' movie. Should be out soon." Boomer replied. "Really?" The mini-man held up his sign. "Really." "Oh, well, let's go home then. Min, re-inflate Rover, would you? Let's go home." Number Two told him. "I've grown weary of these plot devices. Let's go over to the Avengers site and bother Steed for a while." "I think he has a new gig." The mini-man held up his sign. They moved off together along with Boomer hearing Starbuck cursing them from where he remained, rravery and honour, Captain Apollo, searched for him. Meanwhile, a furious Lieutenant Sheba sought a way to enter the wormhole to begin her own search for Apollo... who had assigned her to long-range patrols for 51 episodes while he dallied and danced with the beautiful Vela. We now return to the next stimulating, yet stomach-turning, episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. "Hello?!" Starbuck called out. He couldn't believe he was trapped in a chair, belted into place. The worst thing about it was it was no Lazy Boy, just a cheap imitation. At this point, his buttocks were going numb from the sad state of the cushions. The room was totally dark and closed off from any external stimulation. No light, no sound... no bar. Lords, he was having a bad day. Abruptly, a sliver of light penetrated the room from the doorway. He craned his neck to see who had peeked into the room. With the incoming light all he could make out were shadows entering one at a time, like an endless sea of fluid shapesestrained in his chair. For good measure they turned off the lights on the way out. * * * * * "So, you're saying Apollo has just left the seedy motel where he was sleeping with this `Vela' and is now rushing headway down a tunnel looking for Starbuck?" Sheba checked with Adama as she peered through the wormhole to Cordugo Pit. It was like watching a strange holovid. Every time one of the games in the arcade paid off, the screen seemed to fluctuate, as if changing channels, to reveal a different storyline which was simultaneously occurring in the bawdy, carnal, immoral, indecent, lecherous, pornographic, raunchy, salacious, vulgar, ribald hole known as Cordugo Pit. Her eyes flashed with anger as the screen narrowed in on Apollo's face. He looked intent upon his task. As usual, he was helping out Starbuck. Lords, those two practically lived in one another's pockets. How in Hades was a respectable woman supposed to compete with that whole `best-friend' thing? Especially, when the best coming towards him. "Hello... " Starbuck said hesitantly. It was like d,j... vu. His chest fluttered as a vague recollection of a previous time entered his consciousness where a similar event had occurred. But that was just a dream. Wasn't it? "It's him. It's really him," a soft, melodious voice stated. He realized that the same light that disguised them in a soft shadow, was illuminating him clearly to them, revealing his identity. But how did they know him? "Who are you?" A chorus of giggles was his reply and he swallowed the sudden lump of fear that had risen in his throat. A memory of a sacrificial altar and a group of bedlamites pervaded his thoughts. "Have you forgotten us already?" the same voice asked him, amusement clear in her lilting tones. "Uh... but that's not possible... " he started and then stopped as the room broke up into laughter. "But..." His voice cracked as he tried to rationalize how a dream could possibly become reality. "Easy, Swing their lingerie*, was in the same space/time continuum and the same general geographic location. (Cue really snazzy special effects star map, showing location of the Fleet, with a "You are here" sign.) Except for... Apollo looked over at his father, who, unlike the others, was calmly sitting in a regal armchair, reading a newspaper. Even more unusually, he seemed to be wearing a tall hat with a wide brim. "Father... what are you doing?" "Just checking cattle futures. Same as I've been doing the last twenty-four centars while I've been waiting for you all to wake up." Adama replied, looking over the top of the paper and peering at the other occupants of the room. "Uh...by the way, where's Starbuck?" Even the copier/fax/scanner machine had shut off. Finally. * * * * * "Hey, kid. Can you hear me?" The voice seemed to come from the distance, calling him back from that pillowy goodness where he could rest his weary body and aching head. Hades, he hfriend in question had such a knack for getting himself in trouble. "I'll show you. Put me on long-range patrol for 51 episodes so you can go out and... " She stopped herself as she heard the Commander clear his throat uncomfortably. She had never flown through a wormhole before, but as Cain's daughter, that wasn't a deterrent. She would find the good Captain and when she did ...The corridor filled with maniacal laughter. Adama looked beside him to realize the laughter was coming from Lieutenant Sheba. He said a brief prayer for his son's continued safety. Coming soon to a BSG fanfiction list near you, the next anomalistic episode of the Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in to find out who will find Starbuck first, the dirk-carrying priestesses or the tired-of-carrying-Dirk Captain Apollo. And to hear Belloby gush, "Ooh, my pretties!" When we last left the boys, Starbuck was restrained in a dark room as a gang of priestesses with ceremonial dirks, as well as the refulgent example of beetheart." A gentle hand brushed his hair back out of his eyes and a flicker of light shone behind him. Then another... and another. Until the room filled eerily with candlelight creating a mystical ambience. He could feel his heart pounding hard against his chest. "Uh, whose in charge here?" "Oh, she'll be along." "Uh... the Otori Sect, right?" Starbuck asked as he once again strained against his bonds. "Nope. Not anymore. We gave up on that. Human sacrifice was starting to get us down. Don't you remember, we moved on." "Uh... the lascivious, luscious, league of luminous ladies?" Starbuck asked, trying to rack his brain for the answer. He vaguely recalled they were a lot more fun in their reincarnation... then he remembered a tube sucking his blood out of his neck and... "No, that was the League of Luscious Lecherous Lascivious Ladies." The light more clearly illuminated them now. They still wore the robes of the Otori Sect, but had abandoned the hoods. adn't had any real sleep for nigh on seventy-three episodes. No wonder his head was pounding, and the mere thought of opening his eyes had dagger-like pains shooting into his skull. "Hey, man. Wake up! It was just a little bump on the head. Open your eyes!" The voice was brisk and gruff. Angry. Male. Not exactly the kind of voice you pried the ole baby blues open for. A hand gripped his shoulder, and with surprising gentleness, gave him a shake. "I know you're in there, man. I can see your eyes twitch. You know, REM state? Been there a few times myself, you know. Leastways, I think so. I'll have to check with my Mama." "Lieu-ten-ant!" It was the first voice again. It sounded military, but he didn't recognize it. That authority was unmistakable though. Starbuck raised a hand to his eyes, wiping them briefly before opening them. "How many fingers?" Silvery white hair, piercing blue eyes, and a fumarello clamped between his teeth. He looked fitter thanravery and honour, Captain Apollo, searched for him. Meanwhile, a furious Lieutenant Sheba sought a way to enter the wormhole to begin her own search for Apollo... who had assigned her to long-range patrols for 51 episodes while he dallied and danced with the beautiful Vela. We now return to the next stimulating, yet stomach-turning, episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. "Hello?!" Starbuck called out. He couldn't believe he was trapped in a chair, belted into place. The worst thing about it was it was no Lazy Boy, just a cheap imitation. At this point, his buttocks were going numb from the sad state of the cushions. The room was totally dark and closed off from any external stimulation. No light, no sound... no bar. Lords, he was having a bad day. Abruptly, a sliver of light penetrated the room from the doorway. He craned his neck to see who had peeked into the room. With the incoming light all he could make out were shadows entering one at a time, like an endless sea of fluid shapes"L to the fifth." Starbuck recalled though his rational mind fought to reject what simply couldn't be happening. "But where's Siress Belloby?" "Oh, we gave up on L to the fifth as well. We've moved on again." She caressed his cheek as she leaned down and gazed into his eyes. She then ran a hand down over his chest. "Hmm. Nice." She remarked to the others. "I think he'll be perfect." "For what exactly?" Starbuck asked as he watched them surround him. His body tensed as they closed in. * * * * * Sheba was battle ready. She had her laser strapped to her side, her Midol in her pocket and enough resentment on board to reduce a certain wayward Captain to a quivering mass of guilt. She pulled on her helmet and once again cursed the fact that she couldn't figure out a way to get her viper into the corridor so she could ride it through the wormhole. Didn't matter though. She was the daughter of the Great Commander Cain, and she wasn't going to let a little thing like a vortex inti the silver hair would let on. He stared down at Starbuck with equal parts concern and brisk efficiency as he waved a hand before his face. "How many, Face?" "One." Starbuck murmured, blinking as he shielded his eyes from the brightness. He was somewhere new; fresh air and direct sunlight streaming in through a window. Not the confines of the Fleet, or the (stygian) depths of Hades Hole. "One?" The man asked, looking at his hand a moment, brow furrowed. "Try again, kid." He looked across at the other man. This one was built like a landram Starbuck decided, as he peaked through his fingers. Dark-skinned like Boomer, with the strangest hair which seemed to stick up in a swath in the middle of his head, as though he'd had a run in with a runaway lawn mower. He was covered in auric jewelry, and so many chains hung around his thickset neck, it almost appeared as though he didn't have one. A small feather dangled from one ear, and Starbuck moved his hand out of his way as he coming towards him. "Hello... " Starbuck said hesitantly. It was like d,j... vu. His chest fluttered as a vague recollection of a previous time entered his consciousness where a similar event had occurred. But that was just a dream. Wasn't it? "It's him. It's really him," a soft, melodious voice stated. He realized that the same light that disguised them in a soft shadow, was illuminating him clearly to them, revealing his identity. But how did they know him? "Who are you?" A chorus of giggles was his reply and he swallowed the sudden lump of fear that had risen in his throat. A memory of a sacrificial altar and a group of bedlamites pervaded his thoughts. "Have you forgotten us already?" the same voice asked him, amusement clear in her lilting tones. "Uh... but that's not possible... " he started and then stopped as the room broke up into laughter. "But..." His voice cracked as he tried to rationalize how a dream could possibly become reality. "Easy, Swmidate her. Certainly not at this time of the sectar! She bared her teeth and jumped into the swirling, hurling, twirling, whirly-birding passage to Cordugo Pit with Adama shouting behind her, "By the way, if you see Muffit... ". * * * * * Apollo wiped his arm against his forehead. Lords, the sweat was pouring off of him. He couldn't believe how hot it was in the labyrinth he was running through. Where the frack was Starbuck? At first he had followed a glowing light that he could almost believe was leading him to his friend, as though a supernatural being was guiding him. But now, as he came to a stop he stood in front of five identical passageways. All of them were aglow with a luminescence on the shiny stone surface, but the guiding light was gone. On the other hand, all my children are gone too, so I can live with the other, he thought to himself as visions of Vela's four children pummeled his brain with the force of a sledge hammer. "My mother and your mother were hangingtried to decide what tribe this man was from. He shook his head in wonder, he'd never seen his like before. Maybe there was a Fourteenth Tribe he was just unaware of. He was also holding some sort of weapon, which Starbuck did not at once recognize. "Watcha starin' at, sucker?" "BA, let him answer. How many fingers, Face?" The older man asked again. His hand drew closer, as though Starbuck might have developed a sight disorder and just couldn't see them. "Is that a trick question?" Starbuck asked. "At least he didn't say blue." Another voice from out of Starbuck's range of vision inserted. "Explain, Lieutenant." "Fingers or faces. What is it I'm counting?" He ran a hand back through his hair, which came to rest on a lump at the back of his head. He palpated it gently, wincing with the discomfort. "For that matter, why am I counting?" The dark man wrinkled his face up in consternation. "Whatcha goin' on about, Face?" He looked angrily over his shouleetheart." A gentle hand brushed his hair back out of his eyes and a flicker of light shone behind him. Then another... and another. Until the room filled eerily with candlelight creating a mystical ambience. He could feel his heart pounding hard against his chest. "Uh, whose in charge here?" "Oh, she'll be along." "Uh... the Otori Sect, right?" Starbuck asked as he once again strained against his bonds. "Nope. Not anymore. We gave up on that. Human sacrifice was starting to get us down. Don't you remember, we moved on." "Uh... the lascivious, luscious, league of luminous ladies?" Starbuck asked, trying to rack his brain for the answer. He vaguely recalled they were a lot more fun in their reincarnation... then he remembered a tube sucking his blood out of his neck and... "No, that was the League of Luscious Lecherous Lascivious Ladies." The light more clearly illuminated them now. They still wore the robes of the Otori Sect, but had abandoned the hoods. out clothes, my mother bopped your mother right in the nose." The Captain decided to go with a tried and true Academy Procedure to pick his route. "What colour was the blood? Blue. B-L-U-E spells blood and you are not it." One tunnel down, three more to eliminate. "My mother and your mother were..." * * * * * "No, no, no, no!" Boomer raved as he stared into his crystal balls... uh, I mean ball. "It's happening again! It's becoming all about him!" The producers stared back at him and shrugged. "That's what happens when you let HER write two episodes in a row... encourage it even." They sipped on their pangalactic gargle blasters as they waited for the green to clear. Hades Holes was everything they had thought it would be and more. * * * * * Starbuck strained against his bonds as the women advanced on him. One stood at the top of his chair running her hands through his hair. "Where's the Doctor?" she asked the others impatiently. "You know Doctors, they'rder. "You're talkin' like the Fool!" "Now, now, BA," the third voice drawled in an upper crust accent, sounding a little bit like Count Iblis- which strangely enough, wasn't how he had sounded a moment ago. "If the Facial One chooses to rise to the occasion, and fashion himself after such a unique role model as myself," his nose shot subtly into the air, he sniffed, and he waved his hand in the air ever so slightly, "you should support him in his endeavour, not chastise him so. At least in my professional opinion." "Professional what?" The angry man snapped at him. "Professional crazy man? If it ain't invisible dogs, it's dead lobsters! You just crazy, man!" "Why BA, as you may or may not be aware, I am the Director of the Murdockian League with is a direct descendent from the Diogenes Club." He continued to drone. "And, as it happens, we are accepting new pledges for membership from the..." Another sniff. "Right kind of people." He dropped his head, whispering aside to"L to the fifth." Starbuck recalled though his rational mind fought to reject what simply couldn't be happening. "But where's Siress Belloby?" "Oh, we gave up on L to the fifth as well. We've moved on again." She caressed his cheek as she leaned down and gazed into his eyes. She then ran a hand down over his chest. "Hmm. Nice." She remarked to the others. "I think he'll be perfect." "For what exactly?" Starbuck asked as he watched them surround him. His body tensed as they closed in. * * * * * Sheba was battle ready. She had her laser strapped to her side, her Midol in her pocket and enough resentment on board to reduce a certain wayward Captain to a quivering mass of guilt. She pulled on her helmet and once again cursed the fact that she couldn't figure out a way to get her viper into the corridor so she could ride it through the wormhole. Didn't matter though. She was the daughter of the Great Commander Cain, and she wasn't going to let a little thing like a vortex intie never on time." Another responded. "Doctor? What Doctor?" Starbuck asked as he felt his head pushed firmly to one side and the back of his skull carefully examined. "Doctor Ravishing." One replied with a smile. "Who in Hades is Dr. Ravishing?" Starbuck asked. He realized his right hand restraint was loosening. He concentrated on loosening the left. If he could get both free he might have a slim chance of getting free. "Dr. Ravishol's little sister. She's the leader of our sisterhood." "She's a brilliant neurosurgeon." Another added as she pulled a roll of duct tape out of her robe. "NO... not the duct tape!" Starbuck cried in horror as he felt his head taped firmly to the top of the recliner chair. "I thought he was going to ask why we were waiting on a neurosurgeon." One of them commented. "Maybe he has a thing about duct tape." Another suggested. "Doesn't matter. She's here now." Starbuck pulled furiously against the restraints as he sa Starbuck, "Not from big, ugly mudsuckers though." Starbuck shook his head looking up at the others. "Who the frack are you guys?" The older man paused for a moment, wrinkling his brow once more in concern as he stared into Starbuck's eyes. Abruptly, his mouth widened in a grin around his fumerello. "Ah, you thought you had us. Nice, Face. But you're not going to get off that easy. Help him up, BA." It took about a milli-centon for Starbuck to go from flat on his back to the vertical position. It was clearly a bad idea, as the back of his head exploded into a million pieces... or at least that was how it felt, although he didn't actually take the time or effort to count them. Strangely though, it didn't relieve the terrible pressure or stop his head from beginning to spin like a cyclone on steroids. Bile rose in his throat and he was certain he had just turned three completely different shades of green. "Hannibal, I think he's going to..." And he did. midate her. Certainly not at this time of the sectar! She bared her teeth and jumped into the swirling, hurling, twirling, whirly-birding passage to Cordugo Pit with Adama shouting behind her, "By the way, if you see Muffit... ". * * * * * Apollo wiped his arm against his forehead. Lords, the sweat was pouring off of him. He couldn't believe how hot it was in the labyrinth he was running through. Where the frack was Starbuck? At first he had followed a glowing light that he could almost believe was leading him to his friend, as though a supernatural being was guiding him. But now, as he came to a stop he stood in front of five identical passageways. All of them were aglow with a luminescence on the shiny stone surface, but the guiding light was gone. On the other hand, all my children are gone too, so I can live with the other, he thought to himself as visions of Vela's four children pummeled his brain with the force of a sledge hammer. "My mother and your mother were hangingw a larger woman advance on him carrying a med kit. "Ooh, my pretties!" a suspiciously familiar voice cried. "Wait, that's no Doctor, that's Siress Belloby!" Starbuck shouted as he pulled his arms free. He tore at the duct tape and kicked his legs desperately as he felt arms pulling at him and bodies climbing on him. * * * * * "That fracker has all the fun!" Boomer shouted into the crystal ball. "It's not fair! Lords, I'm slipping!" The producers looked on in stunned horror as the Lieutenant's body began to melt before their eyes into an oblong... blob. "I'm melting!" the former Lieutenant cried as the formerly sculpted Demi-God of a Human body collapsed from the depth of his emotion, until he was approximately half a metron tall and a metron wide. "Who are you?" the producers demanded. "And where did your wallet go?" They imagined the astronomic bill they had run up with their round of eighteen holes, their haute cuisine dinner and their tray of pangalactic ga "CURSES!" said Count Iblis, wherever he was. "Blimey!" said Dibley. "Pick up thoths tokenths!" said Blip. "Anyone for champagne?" said Mrs. Peel. "I imagine so," said Ronald D. Moore. Oh no! flashed the Butler Guy. WHAT did Starbuck do? WHO are the strange men he has just encountered? HOW did it happen? WHY is everyone back on the Galactica strewn unconscious, except for Apollo and Adama? (Well, maybe Lucifer too, but he didn't have any lines, this ep.) WHY is Adama reading cattle futures, and WHERE did he get a newspaper from? FOR that matter, WHAT are cattle futures? WILL everyone get back to where they are supposed to be? IS it possible? For the answers (yeah, right!) to these and other interrogatively tedious lugubriosities, don't miss the next sentimentally superficial episode of THE STARBUCK CHRONICLES. Tune in, when we'll hear the big, dark guy with the weird haircut say, "I ain't gettin' on no Colonial Shuttle, Hannibal!" * Yeah, I know out clothes, my mother bopped your mother right in the nose." The Captain decided to go with a tried and true Academy Procedure to pick his route. "What colour was the blood? Blue. B-L-U-E spells blood and you are not it." One tunnel down, three more to eliminate. "My mother and your mother were..." * * * * * "No, no, no, no!" Boomer raved as he stared into his crystal balls... uh, I mean ball. "It's happening again! It's becoming all about him!" The producers stared back at him and shrugged. "That's what happens when you let HER write two episodes in a row... encourage it even." They sipped on their pangalactic gargle blasters as they waited for the green to clear. Hades Holes was everything they had thought it would be and more. * * * * * Starbuck strained against his bonds as the women advanced on him. One stood at the top of his chair running her hands through his hair. "Where's the Doctor?" she asked the others impatiently. "You know Doctors, they'rrgle blasters. "I am Borax." The blob replied. "Uh... I think I see a pattern here." "Korax's brother?" * * * * * "Daggit pile on Starbuck!" a joyous female voice called out as a multitude of female bodies climbed on top of him until the recliner chair collapsed under the sheer weight of their cumulative numbers. "Damn cheap chair." "Don't worry, we got it at Costco, they'll take anything back if you still have the receipt." A chorus of appreciative sighs at the warranty policy reconciled the purchase of the cheap chair to all involved... with the possible exception of Starbuck. He felt squashed beneath them and his chest ached to take a deep breath. "Get... off..." he gasped. An especially large woman seemed to be sitting on his chest which filled him with concern... Then he recalled this was their leader... Siress Belloby. His concern grew threefold. "Set up the portable operating table." She instructed the others as she shifted her we said it was lost, but it was found. Omega picked it up on the scanners later, but that's another story. ===== Miss Piggy sues the National Enquirer will not be seen at this time. In it's place, we present the following load of bull. The Starbuck Chronicles Part 75 "All right, everyone, listen up." Commander Adama rose slowly to his feet, standing with his arms behind his back and his feet apart, as the council room came alive and Mrs. Peel started pouring champagne (Dom Perignon, '28) into Dibley's mouth from her (kinky) boot. "It's time to get things somewhat back on track, as this has gone on long enough. Do you realize this all started with a Triad Game?" Most of them stared at him in shock... or boredom. Go Team! "I thought not." Adama sighed. "I have shuttles standing by in launch bay Alpha to take all of you non- residents back to your planet, ship or demonic underworld of origin." "Blimey, that's mighty generous of you, Gue never on time." Another responded. "Doctor? What Doctor?" Starbuck asked as he felt his head pushed firmly to one side and the back of his skull carefully examined. "Doctor Ravishing." One replied with a smile. "Who in Hades is Dr. Ravishing?" Starbuck asked. He realized his right hand restraint was loosening. He concentrated on loosening the left. If he could get both free he might have a slim chance of getting free. "Dr. Ravishol's little sister. She's the leader of our sisterhood." "She's a brilliant neurosurgeon." Another added as she pulled a roll of duct tape out of her robe. "NO... not the duct tape!" Starbuck cried in horror as he felt his head taped firmly to the top of the recliner chair. "I thought he was going to ask why we were waiting on a neurosurgeon." One of them commented. "Maybe he has a thing about duct tape." Another suggested. "Doesn't matter. She's here now." Starbuck pulled furiously against the restraints as he sa weight back to ease his breathing. "Starbuck, my lad, you're a sight for sore eyes. We've been searching for you for over... twenty-six episodes." "What do... you want from me?" Starbuck puffed as he struggled. The women continued to hold him tightly as a small box was pulled from the med kit. They unfolded it over and over again, until, unbelievably, it took the shape of a massage table. "Some entertainment?" Siress Belloby suggested lasciviously. "HELP!" Starbuck yelled. "APOLLO, WHERE ARE YOU?" * * * * * "Starbuck?" Apollo murmured. He was down to two passageways and was trying to recall how to spell `chartreuse' when he heard a voice echo down the passage the furthest from him, calling for him. Apollo took off at full speed. This was it. He was finally going to find his friend. He didn't know who had taken Starbuck, or what they had wanted, but he was about to find out. The tunnel narrowed until he had to slow and squeeze through a crevice. It was as ifv." Dibley smiled, wiping his mouth on Mrs. Peel's...well....pressed napkin. "We will meet again, Adama!" smiled Iblis, evilly. "Give it a fracking rest, Boray Buns!" said Belloby, kicking him in the shins. "We're going home, Toto, we're finally going home!" "Uh..." Adama stared at the young girl with pigtails, a blue dress and ruby red slippers as she cuddled her (live) daggit. "I'm not sure I recall..." "Oh? Well, perhaps you weren't paying attention," she suggested with a huff. "Let's go home! There's no place like home!" Somebody ordered a garland of flowers, right? "No, but I ordered some Punch." Boxey help up his hand as he jumped up and down.. "Hawaiian?" Hummer asked. "How would you like some nice Hawaiian Punch, Boxey?" Igraine asked with a twisted smile. "No time for that now. Off to the launch bay," said Hector, taking her arm. Adama pasted a cheery smile on his face as the young girl someone was trying to stop him from reaching Starbuck. This was all very strange, he realized. The strange luminescent glow, the inexplicable heat, the haunting calls of his friend. It was... unnatural. A shiver ran down his spine as he saw three doors lined up in a corridor. Somehow, he couldn't explain why, he knew Starbuck was behind door number one. Door number two, he believed, concealed a new mini-shuttle, and door number three, a trip to Texasusa. He hesitated as he pictured himself in the mini. After all, Texasusa was far too hot this time of yahren. With renewed determination his shook off his little fantasy. That was his best friend in there and he needed help, dagnamit! He steeled his resolve and approached door number one. Strangely, there was an old fashioned knocker on the door. He studied it carefully and blinked his eyes as the Leo that stared open mouthed back at him, shifted shape until the furious countenance of Lieutenant Sheba glared at him. "Apollo!" the knocker and the android began to lead the congregation out of the Council Chamber and towards the launch bay. How they knew the way, he wasn't sure, but since all he really wanted was to return to his quarters for some privacy, he didn't really care. Tigh would take care of it. "This ain't over, Gramps!" said Igraine, yelling back over the parade of people. "You will be hearing from my lawyers!" Athena paused at the door, letting the last of the stranger than strange strangers file out. "Where is it?" "What?" Adama asked, his eyes wide with innocence. "My lingerie. We've had this little talk before, Father. Give me back my lingerie." Adama straightened his shoulders. "I don't know what you're talking about." "Uh huh, and Cylons plant trees for Arbor Day," Athena hissed. "I'm not backing down on this. Give it up, or I'll tell Boxey." Adama grimaced, looking both ways, pulling the paper bag out from behind his back. "I was just going to.w a larger woman advance on him carrying a med kit. "Ooh, my pretties!" a suspiciously familiar voice cried. "Wait, that's no Doctor, that's Siress Belloby!" Starbuck shouted as he pulled his arms free. He tore at the duct tape and kicked his legs desperately as he felt arms pulling at him and bodies climbing on him. * * * * * "That fracker has all the fun!" Boomer shouted into the crystal ball. "It's not fair! Lords, I'm slipping!" The producers looked on in stunned horror as the Lieutenant's body began to melt before their eyes into an oblong... blob. "I'm melting!" the former Lieutenant cried as the formerly sculpted Demi-God of a Human body collapsed from the depth of his emotion, until he was approximately half a metron tall and a metron wide. "Who are you?" the producers demanded. "And where did your wallet go?" They imagined the astronomic bill they had run up with their round of eighteen holes, their haute cuisine dinner and their tray of pangalactic gamoaned at him. He jumped back abruptly and backed into someone. Apollo whirled quickly and went to pull his laser, noting in despair it no longer rested in his holster. His despair grew dramatically as he gawked at Sheba. "Where do you think you're going, loverboy?" Sheba whispered menacingly. * * * * * "Put him on the table!" the leader told the others. "Wait! She's not a Doctor! That's Siress Belloby!" Starbuck protested as he was woman-handled, very thoroughly I might add, to his feet and dragged to the portable table. They shoved him to the surface and tied him in place face down. "Easy, handsome, that's Dr. Ravishing. She just looks like Siress Belloby." One of the women reassured him. "She's Belloby's... " "Sister." Starbuck finished. "No, second cousin, once removed." The woman answered with a shrug. "Sorry, 'sister' would have been too predictable." Starbuck could feel his hair moved up off the nape of his neck and a sudden burning pain eru.." "Save it, Father." Athena snapped, clutching the bag to her chest and following the others. She turned at the last micron, looking back to him, "By the way, where's Starbuck?" Well, actually... "One minute Face has his nose buried in the cattle futures, and the next, he disappears for twenty-four hours, and when he comes back, all the team's cash flow is gone." Hannibal mused, hearing further retching coming from the pristine bathroom in the luxury penthouse that Face had scammed while the owner was in Cannes for the Film Festival. "What do you think happened, Colonel?" Murdock asked, measuring the steel balls in his left hand... "And what are cattle futures?" BA added, peering out the windows at the spectacular view of the pier. "Don't you ever read the financial pages?" asked Amy, walking in on the conversation. "Cattle futures," Murdock inserted, pushing a finger up the bridge of his nose as if he was adjusting his glasses-whirgle blasters. "I am Borax." The blob replied. "Uh... I think I see a pattern here." "Korax's brother?" * * * * * "Daggit pile on Starbuck!" a joyous female voice called out as a multitude of female bodies climbed on top of him until the recliner chair collapsed under the sheer weight of their cumulative numbers. "Damn cheap chair." "Don't worry, we got it at Costco, they'll take anything back if you still have the receipt." A chorus of appreciative sighs at the warranty policy reconciled the purchase of the cheap chair to all involved... with the possible exception of Starbuck. He felt squashed beneath them and his chest ached to take a deep breath. "Get... off..." he gasped. An especially large woman seemed to be sitting on his chest which filled him with concern... Then he recalled this was their leader... Siress Belloby. His concern grew threefold. "Set up the portable operating table." She instructed the others as she shifted herpted at the base of his skull. "Hey!" he yelled, fighting to move his head. "Just a bit of freezing. We don't want this to be too painful." The Doctor cooed. "It fracking hurts!" Starbuck groaned. "It won't take long." The doctor reassured him. "Wh... what are you doing?" Starbuck asked in despair. He could hear a woman assisting the Doctor. "Shh." The woman soothed him. "I need some hibidil." Ravishing told her assistant. "Hibidil." Starbuck felt something cold dripping down his neck. "Scalpel." "Scalpel." Starbuck tensed as something warm dripped down his neck. He suspected it was his own blood. He shut his eyes tightly as they muttered above him. He couldn't help but wonder if Boomer had something to do with all this. And Apollo, where was the Captain? "Implant." The Doctor requested. "Implant." "IMPLANT!" Starbuck shouted as he opened his eyes. The robe of the doctor occluded his vision as he stared helplessly at thch were blatantly absent, "are a long standing tradition in the finer Maisons d'Bovin, whereby they hire bi- lingual gypsies to hoof-read the beasts while they get their horns polished by modified bowling balls polishers." He grabbed BA's palm dramatically, tracing the lines he saw there. "I can tell by your lifeline, Angus, that you're going to make fine ground beef, and are ultimately destined for a Captain Belly Buster Burger-there can be no greater calling, my young bull." "Oh, a bull market?" said Amy. "Let me go, Fool." BA snapped, jerking back his hand. "Or I'll grind you into the floor with your bowling ball polisher!" "Philistine," said Murdock, and sat down. He looked up as he heard the washroom door open, "Mooooooving on..." Hannibal looked up as a pale and shaky Face made his way back into the room, his hand still grasping the back of his skull. He looked at them all wearily before settling into an armchair, and after a moment's hesitation, pu weight back to ease his breathing. "Starbuck, my lad, you're a sight for sore eyes. We've been searching for you for over... twenty-six episodes." "What do... you want from me?" Starbuck puffed as he struggled. The women continued to hold him tightly as a small box was pulled from the med kit. They unfolded it over and over again, until, unbelievably, it took the shape of a massage table. "Some entertainment?" Siress Belloby suggested lasciviously. "HELP!" Starbuck yelled. "APOLLO, WHERE ARE YOU?" * * * * * "Starbuck?" Apollo murmured. He was down to two passageways and was trying to recall how to spell `chartreuse' when he heard a voice echo down the passage the furthest from him, calling for him. Apollo took off at full speed. This was it. He was finally going to find his friend. He didn't know who had taken Starbuck, or what they had wanted, but he was about to find out. The tunnel narrowed until he had to slow and squeeze through a crevice. It was as ife blood smattered on her smock. Lords, it looked like something a butcher would wear... or a colo-rectal surgeon. "His blood pressure is rising." A woman further down told the doctor. Starbuck had not realized they were even monitoring his biofunctions. "So's mine just watching him." The doctor responded and the room broke up into lascivious laughter. "Laser mender." The doctor requested. "Laser mender." The assistant returned. A moment later they moved back and watched him carefully. "Release him." The doctor told them. Starbuck felt the women draw back. He slowly pushed himself up. Other than some numbness at the back of his head, he didn't feel any different. A slow smile spread across his face as he realized that whatever they had attempted had failed. "Now, dance!" Ravishing ordered him with a slow smile. Stay tuned to the next episode of the Starbuck Chronicles when you'll hear Borax say, "Well, at least I'm clean." *************** t his feet up on the seljuk (they were fresh out of ottomans at the moment). "Care to tell us what happened, Lieutenant?" "I puked." A slight smile hovered on Starbuck's lips. "While technically accurate, it wasn't what I was referring to, Face." Hannibal answered, appreciating his second's attempt at humour, but questioning his timing. "Look, Pal," Starbuck paused, letting out a deep breath. He had to level with these guys. "I think you have me confused with someone else. I'm not Charlie." He hesitated as they all looked at him funny. "I mean, Face." "Really?" Hannibal drawled, leaning back on the couch. "Look kid, if you're in some kind of trouble, I think you know by now that you can tell your friends. We've been together since `Nam, we're not going to let you down now." Starbuck mimed the strange word, wondering what a `nom' was. Or perhaps wondering what was truly in a `nom'. Odd nomenclature, to be sure. He looked up curiously as the lank someone was trying to stop him from reaching Starbuck. This was all very strange, he realized. The strange luminescent glow, the inexplicable heat, the haunting calls of his friend. It was... unnatural. A shiver ran down his spine as he saw three doors lined up in a corridor. Somehow, he couldn't explain why, he knew Starbuck was behind door number one. Door number two, he believed, concealed a new mini-shuttle, and door number three, a trip to Texasusa. He hesitated as he pictured himself in the mini. After all, Texasusa was far too hot this time of yahren. With renewed determination his shook off his little fantasy. That was his best friend in there and he needed help, dagnamit! He steeled his resolve and approached door number one. Strangely, there was an old fashioned knocker on the door. He studied it carefully and blinked his eyes as the Leo that stared open mouthed back at him, shifted shape until the furious countenance of Lieutenant Sheba glared at him. "Apollo!" the knocker Jaws Eats The Love Boat will not be seen at this time, in order that we may present the following equally hard to swallow program. When last we left our....heroes, Boomer was having drinks in Hades with a bunch of producers when he suddenly dissolved the arrangement, Sheba was a really great knocker, and Siress Belloby was implanting some sort of...device into Starbuck's body. WHAT can be happening? Heck, I don't know. What say we read, and find out, huh? ======= The Satyrbuck Chronicles, Part 55 "Dance?" said Starbuck, surprised. He had expected almost anything but that. "Dan..." Suddenly, his became stiff, one of the priestesses "oooohed" loudly, and he began to smoothly move across the room, to take Belloby in his arms. Lucifer came up. "Open wide, Lieutenant," he said. Starbuck did so, and the IL put a rose between his teeth. Baltar laughed. At once, Starbuck began to terpsichoriously undulate most flexibly across the room, Bellby in his arms. "Ooh, babee," Sty man with the brown jacket and strange hat walked over and pushed his legs aside, sitting opposite him on the footstool. "Now Facey, tell dearrrr ole Doc Murrrrdock what's fashing you, me laddie." Starbuck peered at him as he registered yet one more accent. He shook his head in bewilderment, wondering why they didn't have a ship somewhere for people like this Murdock...Wait a micron, they did. In Paddon's Xover with GAL80. A ship full of nutcases. He'd have to check with Eric about that later... "Where am I?" "Santa Barbara," Hannibal told him, studying him intently. He was playing the part really well... but then, he was the Faceman. Starbuck leaned back, distancing himself from Murdock, and fingering the beige pants he was wearing. His black short-sleeved shirt was not regulation, in fact, he had never seen its like. He ran a hand back through his hair, marveling again, as he had in the turbo flush, at the short style. Not what he would have chosen. Somoaned at him. He jumped back abruptly and backed into someone. Apollo whirled quickly and went to pull his laser, noting in despair it no longer rested in his holster. His despair grew dramatically as he gawked at Sheba. "Where do you think you're going, loverboy?" Sheba whispered menacingly. * * * * * "Put him on the table!" the leader told the others. "Wait! She's not a Doctor! That's Siress Belloby!" Starbuck protested as he was woman-handled, very thoroughly I might add, to his feet and dragged to the portable table. They shoved him to the surface and tied him in place face down. "Easy, handsome, that's Dr. Ravishing. She just looks like Siress Belloby." One of the women reassured him. "She's Belloby's... " "Sister." Starbuck finished. "No, second cousin, once removed." The woman answered with a shrug. "Sorry, 'sister' would have been too predictable." Starbuck could feel his hair moved up off the nape of his neck and a sudden burning pain eruarbuck began to say, "you dance soo magnifique. It is like ze very angels, no?" "No," muttered Baltar. ======= "Of course," said Borax. "Ah, it feels so good to get out of that horrid Human form, and be me again. How do they stand it?" "Well," said Donald Bellisario, plopping some more ice into his glass of rye, "generally..." "Don't you know hyperbole when you hear it?" "Ohhh, is she here?" asked Glen Larson? "I haven't seen her since High School." "Humans!" spat Borax. "At least we aren't as ugly as you are!" burbled Ronald D. Moore. "At least I'm clean." "Funny," Moore said, to Larson. "I honestly never imagined he'd say that." ======= Back on the Galactica, Igraine, one of Apollo's previously unknown children, had stormed down the corridor, heading towards Apollo's quarters. Just how she knew the way was a mystery to Adama, who muttered as he and Tigh followed; "Iblis. It has to be Iblis behind all this." "No." meone would have had to gotten him pretty drunk to pull this off. Maybe that explained the headache and nausea... but the lump on the back of his head. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Where's that?" "California." Hannibal replied. "You do know where California is, don't know?" He raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Uh... somewhere near Hades Hole?" "Not quite. That's Tiffanys." "Though some from New York might agree with you." Murdock added with a waggle of his eyebrows. Starbuck winced slightly. The entire situation was a bit too much for him. Yeah, the Chrons had been weird so far, but this really took the mushie. "Who are you guys?" "The A-Team." Amy told him, shaking her head in confusion. "What's going on?" "More like the B-Team since Face lost our cash! I was going to rebuild the engine in my van, Sucker! Now I'm waitin' for the repo man to come callin'!" BA snarled. "Is he always this angry?" Starbuck asked Mpted at the base of his skull. "Hey!" he yelled, fighting to move his head. "Just a bit of freezing. We don't want this to be too painful." The Doctor cooed. "It fracking hurts!" Starbuck groaned. "It won't take long." The doctor reassured him. "Wh... what are you doing?" Starbuck asked in despair. He could hear a woman assisting the Doctor. "Shh." The woman soothed him. "I need some hibidil." Ravishing told her assistant. "Hibidil." Starbuck felt something cold dripping down his neck. "Scalpel." "Scalpel." Starbuck tensed as something warm dripped down his neck. He suspected it was his own blood. He shut his eyes tightly as they muttered above him. He couldn't help but wonder if Boomer had something to do with all this. And Apollo, where was the Captain? "Implant." The Doctor requested. "Implant." "IMPLANT!" Starbuck shouted as he opened his eyes. The robe of the doctor occluded his vision as he stared helplessly at th "No?" "No," said Iblis, his head leaning out of a wall, and looking at Adama. "Not me, Adama. No way. Uh uhh!" The evil Count jerked his head towards the retreating children, and rolled his eyes, before vanishing once more whence he came. "Well, that's sure good to know," said Adama. "Oh yeah," said Tigh. They caught up with the kids, in Apollo's quarters. Igraine was ranting on about things that no one would have expected a small girl to be ranting on about. Certainly not if they were the Commander of the only known surviving Colonial Battlestar, seeking the legendary planet Earth, supposedly home to the long-lost Thirteenth Tribe, which was reputed to have migrated their millenia ago when Kobol bit the dust. No way. "See?" said Igraine. "Not a single picture of Mom. There's this." "That's his sister, Iggy." said Puppis. "My point exactly!" said Igraine. "And don't call me 'Iggy'! She was whanging Starbuck like for ever. Another tart! And here!" She urdock in concern. People had claimed that he had a temper, but this guy made Starbuck look like a lap felix. "Pretty much. With a face that ugly, wouldn't you be?" Murdock shrugged. "All right. Let's say you're not Face." Hannibal suggested, trying to regain control of the conversation.. "Let's." Starbuck agreed, sitting in a large, plush chair. "Then who are you?" "Lieutenant Starbuck of the Battlestar Galactica." "You are behind the coffee empire of all time?" said Amy. "I knew it! Can I get a deal on some stock?" Starbuck stared at her blankly as Murdock jumped to his feet. "Starbuck! I loved Starbuck! Hannibal, BA, Amy, don't you remember that science fiction series from the late seventies? I used to watch it every Sunday night at the VA, right between my G.I. Series and my electroshock treatments. Starbuck was my favourite." He rubbed his hands together euphorically. "Nice, Face. I mean, Bucko. This cinches it." he movede blood smattered on her smock. Lords, it looked like something a butcher would wear... or a colo-rectal surgeon. "His blood pressure is rising." A woman further down told the doctor. Starbuck had not realized they were even monitoring his biofunctions. "So's mine just watching him." The doctor responded and the room broke up into lascivious laughter. "Laser mender." The doctor requested. "Laser mender." The assistant returned. A moment later they moved back and watched him carefully. "Release him." The doctor told them. Starbuck felt the women draw back. He slowly pushed himself up. Other than some numbness at the back of his head, he didn't feel any different. A slow smile spread across his face as he realized that whatever they had attempted had failed. "Now, dance!" Ravishing ordered him with a slow smile. Stay tuned to the next episode of the Starbuck Chronicles when you'll hear Borax say, "Well, at least I'm clean." *************** pointed to Apollo's computer desktop, where the Captain often played solitaire. "He's got some Bond Girl on here, but Mom? Noooooooooooooooooooo!!" "Colonel," said Adama." "Sir?" "Call Sergeant Reese, from Security. At once." "Reese, sir? But he just hates...." "Yes!" grinned Adama, laughing evilly. "Oh man!" shouted Jolly, suddenly entering. "Man! Knew I'd forgot the kids!" ======= "Umm...uh, I was going..." stammered Apollo, as the the great big knocker under his hand became Sheba. "Yes?" said Sheba, with a savage smile. "Well, I heard him cry out, and I was following..." "Apollo?" "Yes?" "Get your hand off my...the knocker." "Oh, right," said Apollo, and did so. "Apollo!" called a voice from up the corridor. "Apollo?" It was female, and, to Apollo, very familiar. "Vela?" he stammered, as the mother of all his biological children that we so far know about drew even with him. "Oh great," said Sheba, "h close, putting an arm around Starbuck's shoulders, and patting his arm. "There's definitely a place for you in the Murdockian League." "Definitely," BA agreed with a sneer, looking at the conman with disgust. "...but only if I can be Apollo." Murdock finished with a grin. "All I want to do is get back where I belong," said Starbuck. "Can you guys help me?" "You need a pilot?" asked Murdock, grinning as he cleaned out his ears with Q-Tips. BA paced angrily towards the Colonel, "I ain't gettin' on no Colonial Shuttle, Hannibal!" WILL the team believe Starbuck? HOW will Bucko make it back to the Galactica? WHY were both Face and Adama reading cattle futures? CAN the Alpha Bay shuttle leave soon enough? WILL the kid's paternity ever be settled? WHAT about the fearsome Count Iblis? WHAT are the precise measurements of Athena's lingerie? WHICH fruits will go into the punch? FOR the answer to questions, none of which are mentioned abovJaws Eats The Love Boat will not be seen at this time, in order that we may present the following equally hard to swallow program. When last we left our....heroes, Boomer was having drinks in Hades with a bunch of producers when he suddenly dissolved the arrangement, Sheba was a really great knocker, and Siress Belloby was implanting some sort of...device into Starbuck's body. WHAT can be happening? Heck, I don't know. What say we read, and find out, huh? ======= The Satyrbuck Chronicles, Part 55 "Dance?" said Starbuck, surprised. He had expected almost anything but that. "Dan..." Suddenly, his became stiff, one of the priestesses "oooohed" loudly, and he began to smoothly move across the room, to take Belloby in his arms. Lucifer came up. "Open wide, Lieutenant," he said. Starbuck did so, and the IL put a rose between his teeth. Baltar laughed. At once, Starbuck began to terpsichoriously undulate most flexibly across the room, Bellby in his arms. "Ooh, babee," Stere comes the cheesy part." "Apollo, I..." began Vela, when she spied Sheba, knocker still on her....never mind. "Well, I had no idea there was so much...lint under the bed. What's..." "Just me, honey. What, you think I hadn't seen that episode?" "When?" asked Apollo. "Colonel Tigh promised me he'd never..." "Come on!" said Sheba, reaching behind her to open the door. Red light and sulpherous fumes wafted forth. "W...where are we going?" asked Apollo, less and less sure he liked where this was going. "Don't worry, Captain," said Sheba. "You'll just love this little joyride!" ======= "Where'd everybody go?" asked Boxey, ignored for a while. ======= Yes, where are they going? WHAT lies beyond the door through which Sheba is dragging Apollo? Will Vela follow? WHAT lies ahead for Borax? Will his part be scrubbed? WHAT has really happened to Boomer? HOW will Starbuck survive as a dancer with a bad French accent? WHAT the Hades Hole(s) will Balte, tune in for the next episode of The Starcrossing Chronicles when you'll hear Hannibal say, "I love it when a pram comes together." ======= Senator Kennedy Swears Off Booze will not be seen at this time. It its place, we present the following, which may be equally hard to swallow. The Starbuck Chronicles Part 76 (Whew!!) When you're a supplies officer in this man's army, you generally learn to use everything at your disposal to get your unit what they need to get the job done. He had done that many a time, and earned himself the reputation of being the best while in the field, and beyond it. He had a knack for knowing how to get what he wanted out of people. But this time the situation was a little different. There was never a time in Templeton Peck's life when he had considered himself totally out of his element, but as he looked through the enormous porthole style window, gazing out at an infinite number of stars, and a few odd-looking space vehicles, he realizarbuck began to say, "you dance soo magnifique. It is like ze very angels, no?" "No," muttered Baltar. ======= "Of course," said Borax. "Ah, it feels so good to get out of that horrid Human form, and be me again. How do they stand it?" "Well," said Donald Bellisario, plopping some more ice into his glass of rye, "generally..." "Don't you know hyperbole when you hear it?" "Ohhh, is she here?" asked Glen Larson? "I haven't seen her since High School." "Humans!" spat Borax. "At least we aren't as ugly as you are!" burbled Ronald D. Moore. "At least I'm clean." "Funny," Moore said, to Larson. "I honestly never imagined he'd say that." ======= Back on the Galactica, Igraine, one of Apollo's previously unknown children, had stormed down the corridor, heading towards Apollo's quarters. Just how she knew the way was a mystery to Adama, who muttered as he and Tigh followed; "Iblis. It has to be Iblis behind all this." "No." ar and Lucifer do? WILL Memnoch, the Butler guy, AND the script ever be seen again? For the answers to whichever of these questions we can remember to put in, don't miss the next powerfully emetive episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Tune in again, when we'll here Donald Bellisario say, "Ron, where is the popcorn?" ======= When we last left the gang, Starbuck was under the control of a mind altering electronic device that was forcing him to... danse avec Siress Belloby et parle avec accent de francais. Ooh, tabernacle! Apollo had been tracked down like the daggit he is by Sheba and was being led into a mysterious room alit with crimson smoke and delicately scented with brimstone. As for Boomer, well... it was revealed that he has actually been missing for several episodes and was being impersonated by the blobishly shape-shifting brother of Korax (from VS Episode 14, Lessons In Allegiance, don't you know?), Borax. Boomer's whereabouts are as yet undetermined, but the writers ared this might be the first. "Starbuck?" Face turned towards the voice murmuring near his ear to see a beautiful woman, clutching some rather alluring lingerie coyly to her chest. His eyes drifted over her as he imagined it on her shapely form, then off, instead of clutched tightly in her grasp. Her dark hair hung loosely on her bare shoulders, and her beautiful blue eyes looked him over in... concern. That could only be an advantage. "Huh?" He cocked an eyebrow in question. "Coffee?" He brushed a spec of lint from the beige tunic that was the apparent uniform on board this vessel; he had seen enough of them by now. He wasn't sure how he had come to be wearing it, but at least it fit, and from the way women passing by had been admiring him, apparently the Faceman was looking good! "Are you alright, Starbuck?" Athena touched his arm gently. "Where have you been? Everyone's been looking for you since coming through the wormhole." She looked curiously at th "No?" "No," said Iblis, his head leaning out of a wall, and looking at Adama. "Not me, Adama. No way. Uh uhh!" The evil Count jerked his head towards the retreating children, and rolled his eyes, before vanishing once more whence he came. "Well, that's sure good to know," said Adama. "Oh yeah," said Tigh. They caught up with the kids, in Apollo's quarters. Igraine was ranting on about things that no one would have expected a small girl to be ranting on about. Certainly not if they were the Commander of the only known surviving Colonial Battlestar, seeking the legendary planet Earth, supposedly home to the long-lost Thirteenth Tribe, which was reputed to have migrated their millenia ago when Kobol bit the dust. No way. "See?" said Igraine. "Not a single picture of Mom. There's this." "That's his sister, Iggy." said Puppis. "My point exactly!" said Igraine. "And don't call me 'Iggy'! She was whanging Starbuck like for ever. Another tart! And here!" She e searching day and night to find him. Well, maybe not, but we'll consider it soon. Borax has actually been a lot more fun that Boomer was. However, now that he has let himself go, shape-wise, this writer has personally found him much less appealing. I digress... Part 56 The former priestesses stood in a small huddle watching Starbuck swirl around the dance floor with Doctor Ravishing, aka Siress Belloby. "Wow, he sure can dance." One of them muttered as he dipped Belloby low to the floor and then swept her back up before circling the room again. "Uh... don't know about you lot, but this wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I signed on for this daggit and equine show." The youngest stated. "She's right you know, this is not what Dr Ravishing talked about when she mentioned the mind control disc." Another added. "Uh... just where is that control anyhow?" the youngest asked as she looked over by the operating theatre that had so recently been abandoned. The control e bag he carried at his side. "What's that?" Face looked down at the bag. He'd honestly been wondering about that himself. Of all the things he could have brought to this strange place so far from home-a nice Armani suit; a quick ride home; condoms; a .357 Magnum, nickel plated, six round, double action revolver with a six inch barrel; his coffee-club card; Marie Osmond's picture, or even an intact memory of how he had come to be here-no, he ends up with a bag of Bernard Callebaut chocolate. "Uh... Callebaut," he shrugged with a faint smile. Well, if he was going to end up with a bag of chocolate, at least it was the finest. From the price on the receipt, it sure as Hell better be! Athena shook her head in bemusement. "Cal a...What's that?" Face smiled. "You've never tried Callebaut?" He stepped closer to her, almost purring the words as he looked slowly from side to side, furtively checking for onlookers. "No." Athena hesitated. "Really, whatpointed to Apollo's computer desktop, where the Captain often played solitaire. "He's got some Bond Girl on here, but Mom? Noooooooooooooooooooo!!" "Colonel," said Adama." "Sir?" "Call Sergeant Reese, from Security. At once." "Reese, sir? But he just hates...." "Yes!" grinned Adama, laughing evilly. "Oh man!" shouted Jolly, suddenly entering. "Man! Knew I'd forgot the kids!" ======= "Umm...uh, I was going..." stammered Apollo, as the the great big knocker under his hand became Sheba. "Yes?" said Sheba, with a savage smile. "Well, I heard him cry out, and I was following..." "Apollo?" "Yes?" "Get your hand off my...the knocker." "Oh, right," said Apollo, and did so. "Apollo!" called a voice from up the corridor. "Apollo?" It was female, and, to Apollo, very familiar. "Vela?" he stammered, as the mother of all his biological children that we so far know about drew even with him. "Oh great," said Sheba, "hlay abandoned on the stretcher. "Ooh, there it is. Ladies, it's time to *get busy*!" She swept up the control and, with her finger poised over the buttons, said, "Music please!" As much as Starbuck tried to stop dancing, it was simply beyond his control. He couldn't believe that some piece of electronic felgercarb could have such complete and utter control of his body. He tried to curse and swear at the woman in his arms forcing him to waltz like an effeminate dance hall boy, but every time he opened his mouth he would start speaking... "Voulez-vous promenade avec moi, ce soir?" he purred into Belloby's ear as his mind recoiled in horror at how-- `what the festering felgercarb have you done to me?'-- could turn into such accented drivel. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the priestesses standing watching him. One of them grinned lasciviously at him as she held a small black box. She had her finger over it. He had a bad feeling about this. Athena pulled on her new black is it?" "Belgian Chocolate." "What's Belgian chocolate?" Athena asked. "You're kidding me right?" "No." Athena returned, this time a little briskly. "Why would I ask if I knew what you were talking about?" "A woman who doesn't know about Belgian chocolate?" Face asked incredulously. "Where the hell am I anyhow? Mars?" "Umm...they have...uh, chocolate there, too?" she asked innocently. He grinned at the joke, and then looked out the porthole again, his grin slipping fast. "What did you call me again? Starstruck?" "Uh... Starbuck. That's your name." She looked at him appraisingly, and then suspiciously. "Just what is it that you're trying to pull?" He raised his hands reflexively, "Nothing. I'm just a bit ... uh... discombobulated. I hit my head... or someone hit it for me. I'm not even sure..." He rubbed the back of his neck tentatively and didn't fail to notice her irate facade immediately changed back to oere comes the cheesy part." "Apollo, I..." began Vela, when she spied Sheba, knocker still on her....never mind. "Well, I had no idea there was so much...lint under the bed. What's..." "Just me, honey. What, you think I hadn't seen that episode?" "When?" asked Apollo. "Colonel Tigh promised me he'd never..." "Come on!" said Sheba, reaching behind her to open the door. Red light and sulpherous fumes wafted forth. "W...where are we going?" asked Apollo, less and less sure he liked where this was going. "Don't worry, Captain," said Sheba. "You'll just love this little joyride!" ======= "Where'd everybody go?" asked Boxey, ignored for a while. ======= Yes, where are they going? WHAT lies beyond the door through which Sheba is dragging Apollo? Will Vela follow? WHAT lies ahead for Borax? Will his part be scrubbed? WHAT has really happened to Boomer? HOW will Starbuck survive as a dancer with a bad French accent? WHAT the Hades Hole(s) will Baltlingerie. It made her feel positively delicious. She admired herself in the mirror as she heard the door slip open and felt a sudden presence in her room. "Hmm. Nice." The low voice growled as he moved closer to her. "Where did you get that?" "I did a little wormhole shopping today." Athena responded with a slow smile as she felt his arms slip around her hips, pulling her close to him. "Mmm. Where have you been all of my life?" "Always close by, but still too far away." He replied as he brushed her hair back from her face and nuzzled her exposed earlobe. "I'm so glad you were finally able to get some time off." Athena told him as she turned in his arms and embraced him. "Not as glad as I am. Always handy to know the local shape-shifters." He responded as he pulled her close and kissed her. "Are there many of them?" Athena asked as she arched her long neck, allowing him access as he began to nibble and kiss his way along it. "Korax, Borax, Thorax, Floorwax... ar and Lucifer do? WILL Memnoch, the Butler guy, AND the script ever be seen again? For the answers to whichever of these questions we can remember to put in, don't miss the next powerfully emetive episode of "The Starbuck Chronicles". Tune in again, when we'll here Donald Bellisario say, "Ron, where is the popcorn?" ======= When we last left the gang, Starbuck was under the control of a mind altering electronic device that was forcing him to... danse avec Siress Belloby et parle avec accent de francais. Ooh, tabernacle! Apollo had been tracked down like the daggit he is by Sheba and was being led into a mysterious room alit with crimson smoke and delicately scented with brimstone. As for Boomer, well... it was revealed that he has actually been missing for several episodes and was being impersonated by the blobishly shape-shifting brother of Korax (from VS Episode 14, Lessons In Allegiance, don't you know?), Borax. Boomer's whereabouts are as yet undetermined, but the writers arne of tender concern. "Uh...what's your name?" he cocked his head slightly to the side. "Athena." "The Greek goddess?" Heck, she was sure built like one... She gently took his arm. "Let me take you to Life Station, Starbuck. Maybe you should see Dr. Salik. I think that battle with the demons from Hades Hole might have been a bit much for you. That and all of Mrs. Peel's champagne." "Demons from Hades Hole?" Face looked at her quizzically. "Is that a football team?" He ran a hand through his hair, which seemed unfashionably long... yet soft and manageable... and it seemed to bounce and behave. It seemed to have been washed recently, and he was able to do something with it, so obviously he was using the correct products out here in... wherever he was. He hoped he could find out what the shampoo was so he could tell two friends, and they could tell two friends, and so on, and so on, and so on... Hopefully it was Prell. He owned stock. "Where did you say " Boomer muttered distractedly as he concentrated on seducing the beautiful woman he had been spending the last 12 episodes with. "Crank the tunes, Girls!" the young priestess called out as a super-sonic-boom-box was started up. The back beat filled the room drowning out the classical music that Starbuck and Belloby were dancing to. Starbuck froze as the young woman hit a button on the control box. Luckily, Lucifer stepped in and Belloby kept on twirling, this time away from the lieutenant. The woman grinned at him and moved forward surrounded by her fellow insurgents. Her hips swayed to the rhythm as she approached him. Starbuck could feel his heart beating in time to the music. It was a raunchy, raucous tune he hadn't heard since frequenting the bars in the bawdiest district of Caprica City. The music increased in volume and a sudden sulphuric odour permeated his senses. A reddish glow was cast on the room as the women formed a circle and started pulling off their robes, disple searching day and night to find him. Well, maybe not, but we'll consider it soon. Borax has actually been a lot more fun that Boomer was. However, now that he has let himself go, shape-wise, this writer has personally found him much less appealing. I digress... Part 56 The former priestesses stood in a small huddle watching Starbuck swirl around the dance floor with Doctor Ravishing, aka Siress Belloby. "Wow, he sure can dance." One of them muttered as he dipped Belloby low to the floor and then swept her back up before circling the room again. "Uh... don't know about you lot, but this wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I signed on for this daggit and equine show." The youngest stated. "She's right you know, this is not what Dr Ravishing talked about when she mentioned the mind control disc." Another added. "Uh... just where is that control anyhow?" the youngest asked as she looked over by the operating theatre that had so recently been abandoned. The control aying clinging bodysuits which assaulted his senses even more. The young woman sidled up to him and ran a finger down his chest. She licked her lips seductively as she winked at him. She mouthed something to him, which he couldn't hear due to the volume of the song. When he looked at her in confusion she simply grinned again and held up the remote control. She pushed the button. "Uh, Sheba, where are we?" Apollo asked as he watched the reddish smoke waft out of the room. Loud raucous music boomed from the room, which seemed to be filled with shapely young women in a circle watching... He wasn't sure what. "Divas-R-Us." Sheba told him with a smile. "You don't actually think I was enough of a dupe that I was going to be out on patrol the entire time you were away, do you?" She grinned evilly as Apollo's eyes opened wide in surprise. She started to chuckle as he backed away from her only to smack into Vela. "Keep walking, Captain." Vela told him. "We have a little something plwe were?" "On our way to Life Station." Athena reminded him, tugging him gently along. "No, no." He paused, turning to face her. "What vessel is this? We are moving right?" He chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair once again. Great conditioner too. "I kind of feel like I've been caught up in some bad science fiction TV series from the seventies." He looked around suspiciously. "Did someone slip me some of Murdock's drugs?" That must be it! BA slipped him some of Murdock's drugs. Hell, he'd been saying he was going to get revenge for years for how Face kept sedating him before plane rides. This was obviously it. Anti-psychotics were supposed to keep Murdock on an even keel, but in Face's case, it had him believing he was in outer space. He really hoped there wouldn't be any space aliens appearing in this hallucination. Really not his preference if he was going to be seeing things, after all. On the other hand, Callebaut chocolate and a beautilay abandoned on the stretcher. "Ooh, there it is. Ladies, it's time to *get busy*!" She swept up the control and, with her finger poised over the buttons, said, "Music please!" As much as Starbuck tried to stop dancing, it was simply beyond his control. He couldn't believe that some piece of electronic felgercarb could have such complete and utter control of his body. He tried to curse and swear at the woman in his arms forcing him to waltz like an effeminate dance hall boy, but every time he opened his mouth he would start speaking... "Voulez-vous promenade avec moi, ce soir?" he purred into Belloby's ear as his mind recoiled in horror at how-- `what the festering felgercarb have you done to me?'-- could turn into such accented drivel. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the priestesses standing watching him. One of them grinned lasciviously at him as she held a small black box. She had her finger over it. He had a bad feeling about this. Athena pulled on her new black anned for you." Apollo looked back at her in surprise. "Vela? You and Sheba are in on this together?" "Well, Sheba dropped off the brochure for Divas-R-Us on her way down here. I thought it looked really interesting. And since a certain lover of mine decided to drop me like a bad cubit to go help a friend, I thought I would join the party." She smiled pleasantly at him as she jabbed him in the astrum with her newly acquired laser. "Move it, Captain." Together they shoved him in the room and the door swung closed. The room was dense with people and smoke as bodies swayed to the music. Oddly, they all seemed to be watching one dancer. The man had his back to Apollo as he gyrated and moved around the floor. Every set of female eyes in the room was on him. Apollo looked over at Sheba and Vela who were chewing their lips as they watched the dancer. The Captain looked back at the man whose body was slick with sweat. He was dressed in nothing but the briefest of shorts as he strutted baful woman clutching an exciting negligee, who claimed to have never tried it... This little fantasy might be just the distraction from reading the Cattle Futures or going in the front door against some seven foot goon who wanted nothing more than to go a round or two with the handsome guy on the team... Oh, and that other weird little thing that had happened... something about some guy who wanted to teach him how to play with pyramids in a chancery... He shook his head as the images retreated. "So... Athena, do you have any other female friends who haven't tried Callebaut? Really, there's nothing like sharing a new experience with the people you care about." He smiled and leaned closer, creating an intimate atmosphere between them. As long as he was going to be hallucinating, he might as well enjoy it. "And I'd be happy to introduce you all to the food of the Gods." His eyes twinkled as he opened his bag and pulled out a truffle. "Food of the Gods?" Athena asked skepticalllingerie. It made her feel positively delicious. She admired herself in the mirror as she heard the door slip open and felt a sudden presence in her room. "Hmm. Nice." The low voice growled as he moved closer to her. "Where did you get that?" "I did a little wormhole shopping today." Athena responded with a slow smile as she felt his arms slip around her hips, pulling her close to him. "Mmm. Where have you been all of my life?" "Always close by, but still too far away." He replied as he brushed her hair back from her face and nuzzled her exposed earlobe. "I'm so glad you were finally able to get some time off." Athena told him as she turned in his arms and embraced him. "Not as glad as I am. Always handy to know the local shape-shifters." He responded as he pulled her close and kissed her. "Are there many of them?" Athena asked as she arched her long neck, allowing him access as he began to nibble and kiss his way along it. "Korax, Borax, Thorax, Floorwax... ck and forth between the women, teasing and tantalizing with his every movement. Women shouted, cheered and whistled their approval as the dancer came ever closer to their groping fingertips. They ached to touch him, but delaying the moment was even sweeter torture to them all. A voice called out, "Starbuck", beginning to chant his name. The others joined in the chorus... as a horrified Strike Captain watched from the sidelines. "Your turn, oh Captain, my Captain." Sheba leered at him, as she and Vela dragged him towards Dr Ravishing's operating theatre. "No!" Apollo cried out, mortified. "Oh, dear God, please let this be a dream!" A white light briefly distracted him as he stared above to see a group of men watching from an enclosed theatre box. "Darling, this is no dream, it's the Starbuck Chronicles." Sheba replied as she pushed him onto the awaiting stretcher. "Well, Don, I think this clinches it. I think Starbuck stays. Tell Boomer, no deal." Glen Larsen told him ay until she saw the precious morsel. She took a tentative sniff. "It looks like coca." "Coca? Probably similar in nature, but I'd defy you to tell me you've ever tasted anything... as sinful as this." He smiled at her lasciviously. "Quit talking, flyboy, and give me a bite." Athena ordered him. But her smile betrayed her enjoyment of the moment. Face grinned and raised the truffle slowly to her lips. She languidly licked them before she opened them wide enough to take a bite. He held it for her as she did so. "Oh, God!" she murmured from around the exquisite taste. "What did I tell you?" he smiled, hefting the bag of chocolate. He raised his eyebrows in silent question. "What are we waiting for?" Athena took him by the arm. * * * * * "Face, of all the cockamamie delusions to go off on... if you were going to pick a good series from the seventies, why couldn't it have been Starsky and Hutch?" Hannibal demanded as he rose t" Boomer muttered distractedly as he concentrated on seducing the beautiful woman he had been spending the last 12 episodes with. "Crank the tunes, Girls!" the young priestess called out as a super-sonic-boom-box was started up. The back beat filled the room drowning out the classical music that Starbuck and Belloby were dancing to. Starbuck froze as the young woman hit a button on the control box. Luckily, Lucifer stepped in and Belloby kept on twirling, this time away from the lieutenant. The woman grinned at him and moved forward surrounded by her fellow insurgents. Her hips swayed to the rhythm as she approached him. Starbuck could feel his heart beating in time to the music. It was a raunchy, raucous tune he hadn't heard since frequenting the bars in the bawdiest district of Caprica City. The music increased in volume and a sudden sulphuric odour permeated his senses. A reddish glow was cast on the room as the women formed a circle and started pulling off their robes, displs he drank his Ambrosa, pulling the little pink umbrella out of it and throwing it off the balcony. "What about Apollo? Do you think he can dance?" Donald Bellisario asked the others. "I guess we're about to find out. Doubt it though. After all, Adama isn't exactly known for swirling his way around dance floors. Face it, Starbuck has it in his genes." Ronald B Moore replied. "I don't think it's his `genes' that the ladies are trying to get into," Glen guffawed as he reached for the cheetos. "What say we blow out of here, pick up Memnoch and return for another round at Hades Holes?" Glen suggested. "Only if that little butler guy is going to carry the clubs. I'm tired. By the way, Ron, where is the popcorn?" Don asked. Will the dynamic dance duo of Starbuck and Apollo ever escape the clutches of Divas-R-Us? Will the Divas ever get their clutches on Starbuck? Will he mind? For the answers to these and even more mind blowing questions that I can't think of this closeo his feet. "Now, Colonel, as you should probably know by now, it isn't always a good idea to confront someone having delusions." Murdock stroked his chin absently. "Now me, I'd a picked Perry Mason reruns. Or maybe Hawaii Five-O. I mean hey, at that age I always wanted to say 'Book 'em, Murdo!'" "I'm not having delusions!" Starbuck protested from the easy chair. "Of course you are, Facey." Murdock shrugged. "But that's okay! Delusions can be fun! Come on over to the VA hospital sometime, and I'll show you. In fact, just imagine that the big guy there," he pointed towards the scowling BA, "is Boomer! This could be great! I'm Apollo, you're Starbuck, Amy could be Athena, and now we have a Boomer!" "A Boomer? You're a crazy man! I ain't no missile sub!" BA barked at him. "Well, technically BA, the baby boomer generation encompassed those born from 1946-1964, so, in actuality, you're a boomer too." Murdock told him before he launched into song. "I'aying clinging bodysuits which assaulted his senses even more. The young woman sidled up to him and ran a finger down his chest. She licked her lips seductively as she winked at him. She mouthed something to him, which he couldn't hear due to the volume of the song. When he looked at her in confusion she simply grinned again and held up the remote control. She pushed the button. "Uh, Sheba, where are we?" Apollo asked as he watched the reddish smoke waft out of the room. Loud raucous music boomed from the room, which seemed to be filled with shapely young women in a circle watching... He wasn't sure what. "Divas-R-Us." Sheba told him with a smile. "You don't actually think I was enough of a dupe that I was going to be out on patrol the entire time you were away, do you?" She grinned evilly as Apollo's eyes opened wide in surprise. She started to chuckle as he backed away from her only to smack into Vela. "Keep walking, Captain." Vela told him. "We have a little something pl to bedtime, stayed tuned to the Starbuck Chronicles, when you'll hear Apollo say, "My other left foot will be stuck up your astrum soon if you don't stop slagging my dancing". Part 57 "I think it's broken," Starbuck groaned as he sat on the small bench in the tiny back room holding his aching foot. "Oh, stop with the histrionics!" Apollo snarled at him, but noticed with faint regret that the foot was indeed looking a colourful shade of black and blue. He rubbed the back of his neck as the last couple of centars ran through his mind. He had thought he had finally tracked his buddy down as he made his way through the dimly lit labyrinth beneath the lascivious streets of Cordugo Pit. Finally he had arrived at the doorway to Starbuck's apparent prison when Sheba and Vela had accosted him. His mind boggled at the turn of events that followed as he discovered Starbuck scantily clad and entertaining a group of women with a bawdy styled dance that was reminiscent of the infamous m a boomer, you're a boomer, he's a boomer, she's a boomer, wouldn't you like to be a boomer too!" Starbuck jumped to his feet, wincing as his throbbing head protested. Speaking of boomers... "I'm not delusional! I'm not Face! I don't know how I got here, but there must be some way of proving that I'm not the guy you seem to think I am!" "Go ahead." Hannibal nodded, sitting back down. "This should be good," said Amy. "Can't we do a genetic scan or something like that?" Starbuck asked. "How about I just pound you into the ground until you tell us the truth, Fool?" BA took a threatening step towards him. "Uh... I really like my idea better." Starbuck replied, glancing briefly at Hannibal, who was clearly enjoying the situation. He returned his gaze to BA, sizing the man up, but not ceding ground. BA made the Borellian Nomen look like the Virgon Boy's Choir. "You lost our money, Faceman! Now you're pulling some scam on us! I don'anned for you." Apollo looked back at her in surprise. "Vela? You and Sheba are in on this together?" "Well, Sheba dropped off the brochure for Divas-R-Us on her way down here. I thought it looked really interesting. And since a certain lover of mine decided to drop me like a bad cubit to go help a friend, I thought I would join the party." She smiled pleasantly at him as she jabbed him in the astrum with her newly acquired laser. "Move it, Captain." Together they shoved him in the room and the door swung closed. The room was dense with people and smoke as bodies swayed to the music. Oddly, they all seemed to be watching one dancer. The man had his back to Apollo as he gyrated and moved around the floor. Every set of female eyes in the room was on him. Apollo looked over at Sheba and Vela who were chewing their lips as they watched the dancer. The Captain looked back at the man whose body was slick with sweat. He was dressed in nothing but the briefest of shorts as he strutted baChip and Dale Dance Team. Of course, Starbuck didn't have the hirsute nature of Chip and Dale, nor the cute cropped tail and protruding front teeth, but the women didn't seem to mind as they followed him hungrily with their eyes around the floor as his lean, toned body moved in time to the beat of the music. The next thing the good captain knew, he was face down on a portable operating table having a mind control disc inserted at the base of his skull. A centon later he was joining Starbuck in the animalistic dance ritual. Only there was one problem. He couldn't dance. His mind was telling him to wiggle his hips and spin, but his diametrically opposed lack of talent had him stomping on Starbuck's bare foot with his military issued boots and knocking the sweat-covered lieutenant to the ground. Starbuck's recovery was remarkable and Apollo gaped in amazement as the lieutenant started spinning on one shoulder and was soon back on his feet swaying, bumping and grinding his way aroundt like it, sucka! You don't scam guys who covered your butt in Nam!" BA reached for the smaller man menacingly. Starbuck swayed back for just a micron, letting the enormous man believe he was retreating, before thrusting his arm forward and slamming BA under the nose with a palm heel strike. BA rocked back on his heels momentarily and then tumbled to the floor as he covered his bloody nose with his hands. He blinked back the stars that flashed incessantly in his eyes, and stared in utter shock at the man who was standing over him, ready to strike again if necessary. "That ain't our Faceman, Hannibal!" Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. "What the frack was that?" Starbuck asked, whirling around. "A knock on the door." Murdock replied. "What does that mean?" Starbuck asked, clearly bewildered. "Oh, right. You don't knock on doors in SciFi." Murdock replied, shaking his head that he had missed that. "Just pretend it's an entry chime." ck and forth between the women, teasing and tantalizing with his every movement. Women shouted, cheered and whistled their approval as the dancer came ever closer to their groping fingertips. They ached to touch him, but delaying the moment was even sweeter torture to them all. A voice called out, "Starbuck", beginning to chant his name. The others joined in the chorus... as a horrified Strike Captain watched from the sidelines. "Your turn, oh Captain, my Captain." Sheba leered at him, as she and Vela dragged him towards Dr Ravishing's operating theatre. "No!" Apollo cried out, mortified. "Oh, dear God, please let this be a dream!" A white light briefly distracted him as he stared above to see a group of men watching from an enclosed theatre box. "Darling, this is no dream, it's the Starbuck Chronicles." Sheba replied as she pushed him onto the awaiting stretcher. "Well, Don, I think this clinches it. I think Starbuck stays. Tell Boomer, no deal." Glen Larsen told him a the room. The women had formed a large circle, which was growing by the centon as word of the act made its way to streets of Cordugo Pit. A table was now set up at the door and the membership of Divas-R-Us was growing exponentially as cubits changed hands and membership cards were passed out. As much as Apollo tried to fight it, he began following Starbuck, his body attempting to mimic the raunchy moves. Alas, Adama had trained long and hard for a career as a military man, not a dancer, and deoxyribonucleic acid is a force that is not to be reckoned with. Apollo began to feel positively squirrelly as his two left feet continued to disrupt the dance routine. Women were alternatively peeling with laughter and drooling with lust as they alternated watching the two men perform in their own special way. For well over a centar they were forced to debase themselves and perform like trained daggits as women tucked Cordugo notes into Starbuck's briefs and pelted the Captain with cubits. T "You okay, BA?" Hannibal leaned over him. "How many fingers am I holding up?" "I want my Mama!" BA replied, as Hannibal rotated in concentric patterns above him. All five of him. Murdock strode to the door and opened it. A frail, elderly gentleman stood there. "Is it the Domino's guy?" asked Amy, craning her neck towards the door. "Is Starbuck in this plotline?" the visitor asked. "Chameleon? What are you doing here?" Starbuck asked. "Damn. I'm hungry!" said Amy. "I'm not really sure. Something to do with Robert and Senmut. That whole Zaza association thing. You know how she gets." He shrugged helplessly. "I think a few stray brainwaves from Eric and Maggie might have gotten in there, too. You look like you could use some help, son." "Uh, well..." Starbuck started to reply. "Actually, I meant him." Chameleon walked in the room and leaned over BA. "What did you do to him?" "He was threatening s he drank his Ambrosa, pulling the little pink umbrella out of it and throwing it off the balcony. "What about Apollo? Do you think he can dance?" Donald Bellisario asked the others. "I guess we're about to find out. Doubt it though. After all, Adama isn't exactly known for swirling his way around dance floors. Face it, Starbuck has it in his genes." Ronald B Moore replied. "I don't think it's his `genes' that the ladies are trying to get into," Glen guffawed as he reached for the cheetos. "What say we blow out of here, pick up Memnoch and return for another round at Hades Holes?" Glen suggested. "Only if that little butler guy is going to carry the clubs. I'm tired. By the way, Ron, where is the popcorn?" Don asked. Will the dynamic dance duo of Starbuck and Apollo ever escape the clutches of Divas-R-Us? Will the Divas ever get their clutches on Starbuck? Will he mind? For the answers to these and even more mind blowing questions that I can't think of this closehe worst of it was the captain was certain that Starbuck was enjoying it. "Histrionics! You stomped on my frackin' foot, Apollo!" Starbuck looked at him in disgust. "Where did you learn to dance? The Seismic and Seizure Disorder Dance Clinic for People with No Rhythm and Less Natural Ability? Hades, even Chip and Dale looked sexier than you out there." "Listen to yourself! We've both been outfitted with mind control devices that force us to... dance," he spat the word out with abhorrence, "and you're upset that I don't look sexy enough!" "You call that dancing? Hades, I've seen Cylons move with more style and grace than you." Starbuck replied, completely unfazed. "Starbuck, my other left foot will be stuck up your astrum soon if you don't stop slagging my dancing and focus. We should be thinking about how we're going to get out of this, not critiquing each other's dance styles." "Style --is probably the wrong word to use, Apollo." Starbuck commented. "By the way, what d to bedtime, stayed tuned to the Starbuck Chronicles, when you'll hear Apollo say, "My other left foot will be stuck up your astrum soon if you don't stop slagging my dancing". Part 57 "I think it's broken," Starbuck groaned as he sat on the small bench in the tiny back room holding his aching foot. "Oh, stop with the histrionics!" Apollo snarled at him, but noticed with faint regret that the foot was indeed looking a colourful shade of black and blue. He rubbed the back of his neck as the last couple of centars ran through his mind. He had thought he had finally tracked his buddy down as he made his way through the dimly lit labyrinth beneath the lascivious streets of Cordugo Pit. Finally he had arrived at the doorway to Starbuck's apparent prison when Sheba and Vela had accosted him. His mind boggled at the turn of events that followed as he discovered Starbuck scantily clad and entertaining a group of women with a bawdy styled dance that was reminiscent of the infamous to pound me into the ground!" Starbuck defended himself. "I acted proactively." "He didn't really mean it, Bucko." Murdock shrugged. "He threatens that at least once a day." "How was I supposed to know that? He looked damned sincere to me!" Starbuck protested. "Enough!" Hannibal yelled. "Are you from the Battlestar Galactica too?" he asked the older man. "The Senior's Ship actually. I think perhaps I may have caused a small problem." Chameleon apologized. "You see, I happened to be visiting my favourite little chancery and was getting a little low on my luck, when I saw Starbuck flying by on a winged equine, so of course I whistled for it to bring him over... which is no mean feat when you're zipping through a wormhole on a vortex- spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside, entangled with demons, horny priestesses and bald butlers, let me tell you. I mean, for a while, people thougid you think of my dancing?" His eyebrow quirked and an amused grin crossed his features. "Are you kidding? Lords, Starbuck, you are so full of yourself sometimes... " Apollo sputtered in astonishment as he watched the lieutenant begin to double over in laughter. "Enough about me, " Starbuck chuckled as he wiped tears from his cheeks. "So what do you think about... me?" He again exploded in laughter as Apollo glared at him. "Honestly, Starbuck... " Apollo couldn't help the faint smile that crossed his face as he truly thought about their predicament. The unbeatable Colonial Warriors that had been awarded Gold Clusters for bravery in the face of adversity, now reduced to exotic dancing for a cult of women, which apparently included Sheba and Vela. "So... how were the tips?" He nodded his head to the Cordugo Note sticking out of the top of Starbuck's briefs. "Buddy, we made more tonight than we would in six sectars with the service." Starbuck pulled the stray note out of his wChip and Dale Dance Team. Of course, Starbuck didn't have the hirsute nature of Chip and Dale, nor the cute cropped tail and protruding front teeth, but the women didn't seem to mind as they followed him hungrily with their eyes around the floor as his lean, toned body moved in time to the beat of the music. The next thing the good captain knew, he was face down on a portable operating table having a mind control disc inserted at the base of his skull. A centon later he was joining Starbuck in the animalistic dance ritual. Only there was one problem. He couldn't dance. His mind was telling him to wiggle his hips and spin, but his diametrically opposed lack of talent had him stomping on Starbuck's bare foot with his military issued boots and knocking the sweat-covered lieutenant to the ground. Starbuck's recovery was remarkable and Apollo gaped in amazement as the lieutenant started spinning on one shoulder and was soon back on his feet swaying, bumping and grinding his way aroundht I was related to Robert Wagner, and wanted to know where Ginger was. Well, about that time a large boom occurred, or maybe it was a boomer, I'm not certain. For no good reason, other than it suits the plotline, a man who looked very much like Starbuck appeared with the Cattle Futures and a currency draft for his team's retirement funds." He smiled at Hannibal. Hannibal winced, clearly not liking where he was going with this. "Well, we had a lovely evening gambling and drinking. Even went to a Chocolaterie. The boys got to know each other, and it turns out that Templeton... your Faceman... is descended from the Thirteenth Tribe of Kobol. Which pretty much means that at some point one of my ancestors jumped ship just before they decided to make the journey to Earth... he probably didn't have the fare, realistically, or he lost it in a card game." Chameleon shrugged. "Instead, he went to Caprica. Starbuck and Face are related. Amazing isn't it?" "All except for one thingaistband. "How about you, did you manage to hold onto any of those cubits they were tossing your way?" "Well, at first I was too disgusted at the situation to debase myself by picking them up. Then, as I began to realize that every cubit I left lying on the floor was simply yet another potential projectile to the Divas, I started pocketing them. Yeah, it's anice little nest egg for our retirement." "Nest egg for our retirement!" Starbuck looked at him incredulously. "Buddy, I'm thinking we do the town. Find the best restaurant in Cordugo Pit, a couple high quality fumarellos, two beautiful women..." "No women! Lords, I think I'll go back to working overtime and spending quality time with Boxey." Apollo replied shaking his head. After what Sheba and Vela had done to him, the last thing he wanted was another relationship with another yet-to-be-revealed psychotic female. "Buddy, the problem with you is women take you too seriously. You show them that sensitive side of you that the room. The women had formed a large circle, which was growing by the centon as word of the act made its way to streets of Cordugo Pit. A table was now set up at the door and the membership of Divas-R-Us was growing exponentially as cubits changed hands and membership cards were passed out. As much as Apollo tried to fight it, he began following Starbuck, his body attempting to mimic the raunchy moves. Alas, Adama had trained long and hard for a career as a military man, not a dancer, and deoxyribonucleic acid is a force that is not to be reckoned with. Apollo began to feel positively squirrelly as his two left feet continued to disrupt the dance routine. Women were alternatively peeling with laughter and drooling with lust as they alternated watching the two men perform in their own special way. For well over a centar they were forced to debase themselves and perform like trained daggits as women tucked Cordugo notes into Starbuck's briefs and pelted the Captain with cubits. T." Starbuck inserted. "You said that one of your ancestors jumped ship, not one of my..." he trailed off, paling as he realized the significance of his words. "You mean, you really are my...?" Chameleon nodded briefly. "I've been trying to figure out a way to tell you for some time, but then you took off on these adventures, and I really haven't seen you since." "Ahhhh!" Murdock gushed. "Bucko, you have a family!" Starbuck simply stared at the man, struck dumb. "I hate to interrupt this tender scene," Hannibal remarked a trifle sarcastically, lighting a new stogie, "but how do you get back to the Galactica and how do we get Face back?" "I want my little brother back. This guy is a maniac!" BA snarled, from behind a bloody wad of gauze over his nose. "And our money!" added Amy. "After all, we gotta pay the Dominos...ah, maybe that's him now." "Did you find the pram?" Chameleon asked. "The pram?" "Yes, when Starbuck women get all sentimental over, and the next thing you know, they want to own you. You need to discover casual sex, my friend. It's rewarding, yet so much less constraining." Starbuck told him with a glitter in his eyes. "Says the man who's been dating Cassiopeia almost exclusively for several sectons now." "Hey, I haven't even seen Cassiopeia for... uh... fifty-seven episodes now. I think that opens up my exclusivity factor. Whatchathink? A night out on the town? Just the two of us. It will be like old times." Apollo looked at the eager lieutenant. "Starbuck, one problem remains. How do we get out of here?" "Buddy, I have Cordugo Notes in my hands, my best friend at my side, and a night on the town in my immediate future. I'll get us out of here." He grinned at the Captain roguishly. Just what lies in store for our BSG boys on their night on the town? Will Starbuck be able to break them out of the tiny room with the small bench? Will they be able to escape the covenlhe worst of it was the captain was certain that Starbuck was enjoying it. "Histrionics! You stomped on my frackin' foot, Apollo!" Starbuck looked at him in disgust. "Where did you learn to dance? The Seismic and Seizure Disorder Dance Clinic for People with No Rhythm and Less Natural Ability? Hades, even Chip and Dale looked sexier than you out there." "Listen to yourself! We've both been outfitted with mind control devices that force us to... dance," he spat the word out with abhorrence, "and you're upset that I don't look sexy enough!" "You call that dancing? Hades, I've seen Cylons move with more style and grace than you." Starbuck replied, completely unfazed. "Starbuck, my other left foot will be stuck up your astrum soon if you don't stop slagging my dancing and focus. We should be thinking about how we're going to get out of this, not critiquing each other's dance styles." "Style --is probably the wrong word to use, Apollo." Starbuck commented. "By the way, what d and Face entered the Perambulator 500, the one Vela lost to you in a card game, they had a souped up little Silver Cross with the sun canopy..." "Fr...Chameleon, what the frack are you talking about?" Starbuck asked testily. "I think perhaps you had a few too many Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters, son." Chameleon shrugged. "You both climbed on her and rode her through the wormhole... but evidently Face somehow ended up on the Galactica in your body, and you ended up here in his." "Just who was this you rode through a wormhole?" asked Amy. "Oooh, Faceman. Maybe you should be talking to her. Or the law." "Hannibal!" Murdock called from the bedroom. "I've found the pram! It's in about eight different pieces." "Well, then, let's put her back together." Hannibal grinned. "After all, I love it when a pram comes together." WILL Starbuck be able to soup the Silver Cross back up and get back in the Perambulator 500? WHAT would the prize be fory clutches of Divas-R-Us? Will they ever find their way off Cordugo Pit and get back to the Galactica. Oh, and what happened to the superfluous characters? And what exactly did the infamous dance routine of Chip and Dale look like? Will Starbuck find some clothes? Is his foot really broken? Is anybody reading this? Stay tuned for the next episode when we'll hear someone say, "Oh, suffering Lord Sagan, me bollocks are burst!" Part 58 ======= "Four!" shouted Larson, swinging his club. He watched the ball sail across the landscape of the 55th hole, to be finally lost in a waft of sulpherous smoke. He began to curse loudly. "Double Bogey again, Glen?" asked Donald Bellisario, sipping his rye. "Fracking felcercarb galmonging snitradious...." "Yeah, guess so. So, hey, Ronnie 'ol boy." "Yeah?" replied Moore, closley inspecting his balls. "You checked out what Starbuck and Apollo are into now?" He laughed. "What a script!" "Sheba's pissed, right?" "Oid you think of my dancing?" His eyebrow quirked and an amused grin crossed his features. "Are you kidding? Lords, Starbuck, you are so full of yourself sometimes... " Apollo sputtered in astonishment as he watched the lieutenant begin to double over in laughter. "Enough about me, " Starbuck chuckled as he wiped tears from his cheeks. "So what do you think about... me?" He again exploded in laughter as Apollo glared at him. "Honestly, Starbuck... " Apollo couldn't help the faint smile that crossed his face as he truly thought about their predicament. The unbeatable Colonial Warriors that had been awarded Gold Clusters for bravery in the face of adversity, now reduced to exotic dancing for a cult of women, which apparently included Sheba and Vela. "So... how were the tips?" He nodded his head to the Cordugo Note sticking out of the top of Starbuck's briefs. "Buddy, we made more tonight than we would in six sectars with the service." Starbuck pulled the stray note out of his w winning? CAN he get back to the Galactica? WILL he take Chameleon with him? IS Athena going to share the Callebaut with friends, or will she keep it to herself? WHAT is she going to do with that negligee? WILL she take Face along, or dump him in favour of the chocolate? HOW did this story ever get so screwed up? For some putative answers to these and a whole bunch of other questions and stuff, don't miss the next satirically convoluted episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when you'll hear Chameleon say, "He dances like a Cylon... and I'm not talking about Cy, either." Or, if you are especially sinful and wicked, you MIGHT get to not hear the Butler Guy say, Extra pineapple on that, right? **************************** Martha Stewart Cleans up the Penal System will not be seen at this time. In its place we present the following examples of arrested development. When we last left our heroes two identical men known for conning and conniving were trying toh yeah," laughed the other. "Like mad." "Imagine that." "Yup. Here, have some popcorn?" "Yeah." "Mongously encrusted Boray astrums, for Sagan's sake...." "Glen having a bad day?" asked RDM. "Look like is." "Imagine that." "Not to worry. I'm sure he'll deal with it." "So, what's next?" asked RDM. "Haven't you reviewed the script?" "Nah. Just a little bit. All I needed to give me the flavor of it." "I see." Bellisario watched as the little butler guy came up, and handed him his club. He took his place at the tee, and addressed the ball. He swung... Excellent signed the butler. "AAAAAAAAHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" came a horrific scream from across the course. "You okay, Glen?" asked Bellisario. "Oh, suffering Lord Sagan, me bollocks are burst!" "Huh," said RDM, squinting at the other through the flames. "Imagine that." Really excellent! Tune in next time, for the next infernallaistband. "How about you, did you manage to hold onto any of those cubits they were tossing your way?" "Well, at first I was too disgusted at the situation to debase myself by picking them up. Then, as I began to realize that every cubit I left lying on the floor was simply yet another potential projectile to the Divas, I started pocketing them. Yeah, it's anice little nest egg for our retirement." "Nest egg for our retirement!" Starbuck looked at him incredulously. "Buddy, I'm thinking we do the town. Find the best restaurant in Cordugo Pit, a couple high quality fumarellos, two beautiful women..." "No women! Lords, I think I'll go back to working overtime and spending quality time with Boxey." Apollo replied shaking his head. After what Sheba and Vela had done to him, the last thing he wanted was another relationship with another yet-to-be-revealed psychotic female. "Buddy, the problem with you is women take you too seriously. You show them that sensitive side of you that convince people who know them a little too well that they weren't who they appeared to be... The Starbuck Chronicles Part 77 Luscious. Athena closed her eyes letting the moment of purest ecstasy envelop her completely, infusing every part of her body. Oh Lords! Never had it been this good. Her flesh seemed to quake; even her two... Tasty... addictive... and utterly delectable. She moaned low in her throat as he teased her lips. "More..." she groaned. Face chuckled, "Chocolate or me, beautiful?" He was beyond caring at the moment as to how he had ended up on this... whatever it was... wherever he was. All that mattered was he was with one of the most alluring and provocative women he had ever met. If only she would stop calling him Starbuck. He pressed himself against her athletically slender body, which was stretched along the couch in her quarters, teasing her slightly open mouth with a sensual kiss before she opened her gorgeous blue eyes to stay sulpherous episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Be here (Aloha), when we'll hear Athean say, "Enlargements? Are you trying to tell me something?" ======= "So, how do you propose we get out of here?" Apollo asked Starbuck as he looked around the tiny dressing room with a single bench. As much as he was reluctant to accompany Starbuck on his idea of a night on the town, the alternative was staying behind toperpetuate his dancing career in the evil clutches of Diva's-R-Us. Silence was his only reply. He turned to take a look at the mute lieutenant. Starbuck was pale and shaken as he looked back at his friend. "Lords, Starbuck, what is it? Is it your foot?" The guilt was overwhelming as he looked down at the bruised and slightly swollen extremity, which he had stomped on with his combat boots while attempting to dance. "Don't... say... *that*." Starbuck stuttered. "What?" Apollo asked the shaken man as he gripped his shoulder in concern. "Pro...pro... propo... re at him with equal parts confusion and desire. "Starbuck..." she murmured, shaking her head as if in a trance. She couldn't believe this had all started with him tantalizing her with a couple small squares of something he called chocolate. But then all of a sudden something had changed. Their shared laughter had stopped and he had leaned in slowly, watching every ensuing expression as he kissed every lip on her face. It wasn't the kind of kiss that should assault one's senses. It was gentle, explorative, hesitant. At first. As though he was merely testing the waters, unsure of her reaction. But somehow his hesitation had proved to be her undoing, when she realized he was waiting for her lead. Treating her like a precious flower he was afraid to crush... and that was just so... un-Starbuck. He looked like Starbuck, but there was something so... different about him. Something lacking the usual wheedling, conniving, con-artist...Something she didn't understand. Didn't propose." Starbuck stammered. An involuntary shudder ran through his body. "Are you kidding me?" Apollo shook his head. "Lords, if only the Imperious Leader knew that the Great Starbuck could be taken down by a few simple references to marriage. "OOH! Stop!" Starbuck recoiled in apparent pain and horror. "You're pathetic." Apollo told him as he paced the room in frustration. Four paces from side to side. Six paces from corner to corner. He already knew every nook and cranny in the small prison. He had even carefully noted that the magenta paint had recently replaced chartreuse. Lords, the mere idea of being surrounded by four walls covered in magenta... His pulse quickened at the very thought. "You said you could get us out. How?" "Me? Mr. Pathetic? How could I possibly get us out of here? No. Let's just stay. In fact, I think I like it here. At least I can put my foot up until the next performance." Apollo blew a deep breath out between his teeth. "Starbuck..." his te women get all sentimental over, and the next thing you know, they want to own you. You need to discover casual sex, my friend. It's rewarding, yet so much less constraining." Starbuck told him with a glitter in his eyes. "Says the man who's been dating Cassiopeia almost exclusively for several sectons now." "Hey, I haven't even seen Cassiopeia for... uh... fifty-seven episodes now. I think that opens up my exclusivity factor. Whatchathink? A night out on the town? Just the two of us. It will be like old times." Apollo looked at the eager lieutenant. "Starbuck, one problem remains. How do we get out of here?" "Buddy, I have Cordugo Notes in my hands, my best friend at my side, and a night on the town in my immediate future. I'll get us out of here." He grinned at the Captain roguishly. Just what lies in store for our BSG boys on their night on the town? Will Starbuck be able to break them out of the tiny room with the small bench? Will they be able to escape the covenlrecognize. And it wasn't the chocolate either. Maybe he wasn't Starbuck! "I'm not Starbuck." Face smiled at her faintly. Something about her compelled him to be honest. Hell, when was the last time that had happened when he stared into a woman's eyes? "You must have been hit harder on the head than we thought." She smiled. They had way too much history for this to happen. Come to think of it, there was way too much history with Cassie, Aurora, Miriam, Noday, Miri, the Empyreans,... She just wasn't willing to let him break her heart again. She reluctantly pulled back, pushing gently but firmly against his chest. "Athena, I'm being honest here. I'm really not Starbuck." He shook his head as if to emphasize the point. "I have no memory of this place before today. I don't even really know where I am or how I got here." He gently caressed her cheek as he spoke. Athena paused as she considered him. Starbuck was a master of deception, as many women, and no few pyramnsion surrounded him like an oversized sweater that his Grandmother had knitted for him as a lad. It was Magenta too, now that he thought about it. His Grandmother had wanted more girls in the family apparently. Starbuck had just sat down on the bench and elevated his sore foot. He looked at the captain, noting his flushed skin and clenched fists. Oh oh, Apollo looked like he was going to blow a gasket. The captain walked towards him with malignant intent etched clearly on his features. His hand reached out towards Starbuck as the lieutenant reflexively drew back. "Okay. I'll get us out." Apollo's hand stopped short of his friend's neck. "Starbuck, I'll warn you now. I'm at the end of my rope here. I came here to help you and because of that I've had a mind control device surgically implanted in me against my will, which forces me to strut around in time with the music in front of a crowd of horny women." "You're really not in time with the beat, Buddy. Just to clear that little y clutches of Divas-R-Us? Will they ever find their way off Cordugo Pit and get back to the Galactica. Oh, and what happened to the superfluous characters? And what exactly did the infamous dance routine of Chip and Dale look like? Will Starbuck find some clothes? Is his foot really broken? Is anybody reading this? Stay tuned for the next episode when we'll hear someone say, "Oh, suffering Lord Sagan, me bollocks are burst!" Part 58 ======= "Four!" shouted Larson, swinging his club. He watched the ball sail across the landscape of the 55th hole, to be finally lost in a waft of sulpherous smoke. He began to curse loudly. "Double Bogey again, Glen?" asked Donald Bellisario, sipping his rye. "Fracking felcercarb galmonging snitradious...." "Yeah, guess so. So, hey, Ronnie 'ol boy." "Yeah?" replied Moore, closley inspecting his balls. "You checked out what Starbuck and Apollo are into now?" He laughed. "What a script!" "Sheba's pissed, right?" "Opoint up." "Starbuck!" Apollo snapped at him. "Get me the frack out of here!" "Not a problem, Buddy." He pointed at the ceiling. * * * * * Boomer pulled Athena closer as they snuggled on the longseat looking through her collection of holoptics. He nuzzled her ear as he whispered tender words to her. She giggled as she dropped the album, putting her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. Lords, he felt good. It was such a pleasure to get some quiet time alone with a man like Boomer. Sexy, intelligent, humorous, and thoughtful, she was certain she was falling for him. She listened as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear. All work and no play make Aphrodite a dull girl, after all. She hadn't dated many men after her and Starbuck drifted apart. She told herself she simply didn't have the time nor the inclination, but now she realized she just hadn't wanted to be hurt again. Why did she go after a guy like Starbuck to begin with? Lords! He might as well hh yeah," laughed the other. "Like mad." "Imagine that." "Yup. Here, have some popcorn?" "Yeah." "Mongously encrusted Boray astrums, for Sagan's sake...." "Glen having a bad day?" asked RDM. "Look like is." "Imagine that." "Not to worry. I'm sure he'll deal with it." "So, what's next?" asked RDM. "Haven't you reviewed the script?" "Nah. Just a little bit. All I needed to give me the flavor of it." "I see." Bellisario watched as the little butler guy came up, and handed him his club. He took his place at the tee, and addressed the ball. He swung... Excellent signed the butler. "AAAAAAAAHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" came a horrific scream from across the course. "You okay, Glen?" asked Bellisario. "Oh, suffering Lord Sagan, me bollocks are burst!" "Huh," said RDM, squinting at the other through the flames. "Imagine that." Really excellent! Tune in next time, for the next infernallid players, could attest, but this really wasn't his style. His blue eyes didn't waver and the sincerity in his voice almost had her believing him. Almost. She sniffed, her lips turning up at a sudden realization. "For a guy who claims to not know where he is, or how he arrived here, you don't seem too upset about it." He dropped his eyes from hers, nodding and smiling almost self-deprecatingly. "Ahh." He reached for her hand, taking a moment to gently caress her fingers before raising them to his lips for a lingering kiss before again seeking her gaze. "Well... after I met you..." He shrugged almost apologetically. "It really didn't seem to matter anymore. I realize that probably sounds like a line... but it is true." She caught her breath as she realized that more than anything else in the universe, she wished it was so. She moved his hand from her face to...somewhere else. She also realized she wanted his baby!!!!!!!!!!!!!! "You do?" * * * * * "ave a big, neon sign saying `terrified of commitment' hanging around his neck. Well, Boomer was just the opposite. But Boomer seemed to have something that Starbuck lacked. Maturity. Boomer was ready to settle down with one woman and treat her likeshe was a goddess. He sure as Hades worshipped her body as though she were a Goddess. The Goddess Athena. She giggled again at the absurd thought as his low voice purred in her ear and his hands caressed her. Her eyes suddenly opened wide and she pulled back to stare him in the eyes, "Enlargements? Are you trying to tell me something?" Somehow, she got the idea he wasn't talking about the holoptics anymore. * * * * * "What?" Apollo looked blankly up at the ceiling. "Our way out, Buddy." Starbuck stood and climbed up on the bench. He pushed one of the ceiling panels aside to reveal a crawl space above them. "Can you see where it goes?" Apollo asked. Somehow it seemed too easy. "Give me a leg up," Starbuck told him and y sulpherous episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Be here (Aloha), when we'll hear Athean say, "Enlargements? Are you trying to tell me something?" ======= "So, how do you propose we get out of here?" Apollo asked Starbuck as he looked around the tiny dressing room with a single bench. As much as he was reluctant to accompany Starbuck on his idea of a night on the town, the alternative was staying behind toperpetuate his dancing career in the evil clutches of Diva's-R-Us. Silence was his only reply. He turned to take a look at the mute lieutenant. Starbuck was pale and shaken as he looked back at his friend. "Lords, Starbuck, what is it? Is it your foot?" The guilt was overwhelming as he looked down at the bruised and slightly swollen extremity, which he had stomped on with his combat boots while attempting to dance. "Don't... say... *that*." Starbuck stuttered. "What?" Apollo asked the shaken man as he gripped his shoulder in concern. "Pro...pro... propo... At least we know Face will be doing everything in his power to find his way back to Earth." Hannibal remarked as he sucked on his cigar. Amy tossed him a lighter, shaking her head. Starbuck hoped so, as he skeptically examined the souped-up pram, since these two way space corridors through time usually depended on both parties making some effort to get back to where they belonged. The A-Team members had reassembled the child-sized transport using everything at their disposal; plumbing fixtures, ceiling fans, parts from a VCR, a garberator, a ghetto blaster, duct tape, a clock- radio, thumbtacks, a toilet-paper roll, and just about everything they could haul out of an apartment sized washer/dryer. If only they had a vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside as part of the mix! "Doesn't look like an ion propulsion engine to me," the Lieutenant remarked as BA screwed the last screw in place. placed his good foot in his friend's grip as he was boosted up into the crawl space. He peered ahead into the darkness. "No. I can't see anything. Coming?" Apollo looked skeptically at him. "Well, I guess anything is better than being a sideshow." He climbed onto the bench and reached up for Starbuck's outstretched arm. He was pulled into the crawl space alongside the lieutenant. "Smells like sulphur." "This whole planet smells like sulphur. It also has a weird red glow to it. Did you notice?" "Yeah, like `fire and brimstone'." Apollo commented. "Hades..." Starbuck muttered. "It's not just a golf course, you know." Apollo reminded him. "Hmm." Starbuck remarked uncomfortably as he began to crawl forward through the shaft. They continued on in silence for some time. The temperature began to rise and Starbuck could feel sweat beading on his brow. "It's getting hot." "I have a bad feeling about this, Starbuck." Apollo told him. The hair at the nape of his neck wpropose." Starbuck stammered. An involuntary shudder ran through his body. "Are you kidding me?" Apollo shook his head. "Lords, if only the Imperious Leader knew that the Great Starbuck could be taken down by a few simple references to marriage. "OOH! Stop!" Starbuck recoiled in apparent pain and horror. "You're pathetic." Apollo told him as he paced the room in frustration. Four paces from side to side. Six paces from corner to corner. He already knew every nook and cranny in the small prison. He had even carefully noted that the magenta paint had recently replaced chartreuse. Lords, the mere idea of being surrounded by four walls covered in magenta... His pulse quickened at the very thought. "You said you could get us out. How?" "Me? Mr. Pathetic? How could I possibly get us out of here? No. Let's just stay. In fact, I think I like it here. At least I can put my foot up until the next performance." Apollo blew a deep breath out between his teeth. "Starbuck..." his te "Listen Sucka," said the huge man, getting to his feet, and turning to glare at the other, "I pity the fool who tries to overtake you in this baby! I pity the fool!" "Do you really, BA?" asked Murdoch, putting a pickle fork into his copy of Psychology Today to mark his place. "Do you indeed pity anyone?" "Shut-up, Fool!" snarled BA. "Quad erat demonstrandum, mon Colonial Viper pilot," said Murdoch, looking at Starbuck, before beginning to wash his toes. Starbuck quirked an eyebrow considering the seething landram before him. "Do you guys ever do anything to just... kick back and relax?" He motioned towards the vertical refrigeration unit. "Try one of those imported ales. Personally, I found that the Stella was refreshing. Light, yet flavorful. You really look like you're going to blow a turbine, pal." "I like milk! Don't have no use for alcohol!" snarled BA. "No use?" Starbuck chuckled. "I could think of a couple uses. I'm imaginias sticking up. Starbuck nodded absently as he continued to crawl slightly ahead of his friend in the dark. The surface of the shaft was also heating up. He waved his hands in the air to cool them slightly before again getting down on all fours to continue on. He could hear Apollo muttering slightly behind him. If it got any warmer they would end up with burnt hands and knees as their bare skin came in contact with the hot metal shaft. He was just beginning to wonder if it would be wiser to retreat when abruptly his right hand shot forward into empty space and his torso followed suit, due to his forward momentum. "Frack!" he shouted as his body began free falling through the humid air. Stay tuned for the next purgatorial episode of the Starbuck Chronicles when you'll hear Apollo say, "Go to Hades. Go directly to Hades. Do not pass go. Do not collect 200 cubits." ======= Part 60 Free falling into darkness. It was like a nightequa. Only the complete awareness that he was winsion surrounded him like an oversized sweater that his Grandmother had knitted for him as a lad. It was Magenta too, now that he thought about it. His Grandmother had wanted more girls in the family apparently. Starbuck had just sat down on the bench and elevated his sore foot. He looked at the captain, noting his flushed skin and clenched fists. Oh oh, Apollo looked like he was going to blow a gasket. The captain walked towards him with malignant intent etched clearly on his features. His hand reached out towards Starbuck as the lieutenant reflexively drew back. "Okay. I'll get us out." Apollo's hand stopped short of his friend's neck. "Starbuck, I'll warn you now. I'm at the end of my rope here. I came here to help you and because of that I've had a mind control device surgically implanted in me against my will, which forces me to strut around in time with the music in front of a crowd of horny women." "You're really not in time with the beat, Buddy. Just to clear that little ng you and about three bottles of Proteus Ambrosa..." "What's ambrosia? Isn't that that sour cream salad with little pieces of mandarin oranges and pineapple in it?" BA asked, suddenly interested. "Don't forget the marshmallows, Boomer," Murdock reminded him. "Coors is good, too, though. I like where you're going with this, Bucko. Relaxation through visualization. Dr. Richter would approve." "Right, marshmallows too. Go on, spaceman." BA encouraged Starbuck, ignoring the other. "Uh... well, okay. So you're sitting at a table on the Rising Star. The Astral Lounge. Nicest place in the fleet. Gorgeous view of the sanitation ship." He grinned. "What about my ambrosia?" the big man asked. "Yeah, yeah. You're surrounded by your ambrosa. Three bottles of the best... well, actually, if you don't usually drink, let's just say three bottles of ambrosa." The Colonial Warrior amended. Why waste good booze on a greenhorn? "Bottles?" BAde awake made it even more frightening. The humid air grew increasingly warm as Starbuck hurtled downward. There was no possible way he could survive the fall. But, it was the waiting that was killing him. His hands flailed helplessly as he sought to grab something... anything that would slow his mad descent into the void beneath him. The sulphuric stench that filled his senses became even more overpowering the further he fell. His breathing became laboured as the hot air seemed to burn his airway. Each inhalation was tortuous as he fought to keep his breathing slow and steady. He cupped a hand over his mouth, as if he could somehow filter the fumes that penetrated his lungs. *Like that would help, Bucko. *After a moment, he reached into a pocket, and pulled out something Cassie had forgotten a while back, after they...well.....and put it over his face. He sneezed, as the lace tickled his nose. And still he fell. Deeper and deeper. To his... * * * * * "Starbuck!" Apopoint up." "Starbuck!" Apollo snapped at him. "Get me the frack out of here!" "Not a problem, Buddy." He pointed at the ceiling. * * * * * Boomer pulled Athena closer as they snuggled on the longseat looking through her collection of holoptics. He nuzzled her ear as he whispered tender words to her. She giggled as she dropped the album, putting her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. Lords, he felt good. It was such a pleasure to get some quiet time alone with a man like Boomer. Sexy, intelligent, humorous, and thoughtful, she was certain she was falling for him. She listened as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear. All work and no play make Aphrodite a dull girl, after all. She hadn't dated many men after her and Starbuck drifted apart. She told herself she simply didn't have the time nor the inclination, but now she realized she just hadn't wanted to be hurt again. Why did she go after a guy like Starbuck to begin with? Lords! He might as well h asked. "I don't want bottles, man. I want those nice parfait glasses. Etched in Rosepoint. With a maraschino cherry on top of each one." "Nice, BA." Hannibal inserted, running his hands over the fine lines of the Silver Cross. It would be just what they needed to win the Perambulator 500-if it held together once Starbuck engaged the ion propulsion engine... and Face did his part on the other side. "Sure." Starbuck shrugged. "So there you are with your ambrosa and in walks this beautiful woman. Skin like jamocha...." "What's jamocha?" BA barked. "Coffee ice cream, Boom-Boom." Murdock inserted, admiring his nails. "Jamocha almond fudge. One of my favourites. Can you see it, big guy?" "Oh. Okay then." BA nodded. "Do you ever just go with the flow, BA?" Starbuck asked, shaking his head in bemusement. "Only in combat, spaceman." "You take up a lot more space than me, pal." Starbuck returned. BA chortled in inexplllo shouted as he saw his friend disappear into nothingness. "Frack!... frack!... frack!..." echoed back at him, almost mocking him as the voice grew dimmer.Apollo crawled slowly forward, carefully placing one hand in front of the other. He stopped and spat into his hands, which were beginning to burn with the heat of the shaft. "Starbuck!" he called again. No answer. "What in the Lords... ?" Apollo muttered as he advanced on the position where Starbuck had simply disappeared. He was well aware that the Lieutenant hadn't seen what lay ahead of him when he had plummeted into... whatever it was. He patted blindly ahead of him in the darkness and tried to make out the opening that swallowed his buddy, as sweat dripped from his face. Eerily, the walls of the shaft suddenly began to glow again with the same reddish cast that had seemed to encompass them earlier. Apollo realized that they hadn't really noticed the gradual diminishment of the strange light. Oddly, jusave a big, neon sign saying `terrified of commitment' hanging around his neck. Well, Boomer was just the opposite. But Boomer seemed to have something that Starbuck lacked. Maturity. Boomer was ready to settle down with one woman and treat her likeshe was a goddess. He sure as Hades worshipped her body as though she were a Goddess. The Goddess Athena. She giggled again at the absurd thought as his low voice purred in her ear and his hands caressed her. Her eyes suddenly opened wide and she pulled back to stare him in the eyes, "Enlargements? Are you trying to tell me something?" Somehow, she got the idea he wasn't talking about the holoptics anymore. * * * * * "What?" Apollo looked blankly up at the ceiling. "Our way out, Buddy." Starbuck stood and climbed up on the bench. He pushed one of the ceiling panels aside to reveal a crawl space above them. "Can you see where it goes?" Apollo asked. Somehow it seemed too easy. "Give me a leg up," Starbuck told him and icable amusement. Starbuck nearly fell over for no adequately explored reason. Think of it as a plot device. Or a gravity shift. Or the previous dizziness from a couple eps ago. "Go on, Bucko. This is doing him more good than you could ever imagine." Murdock encouraged, pulling out a brilliant shade of metallic Spitfire silver nail polish and languidly stroking it onto his toe nails. Starbuck shook his head to regroup, the fumes from the nail polish were getting to him. "Okay, so skin like jamocha; long, flowing hair that your fingers are just aching to run through; eyes that you could lose yourself in...well, for a centar or two anyhow..." "Hey, he's starting to sound like Face." Hannibal added with a grin from around his cigar. "I thought he was sounding a lot like Banacek," said Amy, snuggling on Chameleon's lap. "Get out of my fantasy, you two!" BA barked. "Next thing I know, you'll be ordering me to rebuild a transmission, and it'll bt as Starbuck was about to approach the breach in the shaft, the light had been almost completely extinguished. Almost as if... an involuntary shiver ran through his body. Which was odd, since he had shivered voluntarily a few times already. * * * * * "BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" cackled Belloby, watching events unfold before her in her crystal ball. "Everything is just going according to my Mistress Plan!!" "I have to admit, Bells, that look on Apollo's face almost makes up for fifty-one eps of deep patrols." Sheba scratched herself in one of those places the TV censors wouldn't like her to. "Takes a toll on a girl's padding, all that sitting on a seat designed by a masochist, let me tell you." "You're telling me," replied Belloby, adjusting a knob on the crystal ball. She squirmed, trying to get comfy. "You...are squashing me!!!!" gurgled Baltar. "No mong, Megabrain! Oooh!" gurgled Belloby, bouncing on her seat. "Here comes some good splaced his good foot in his friend's grip as he was boosted up into the crawl space. He peered ahead into the darkness. "No. I can't see anything. Coming?" Apollo looked skeptically at him. "Well, I guess anything is better than being a sideshow." He climbed onto the bench and reached up for Starbuck's outstretched arm. He was pulled into the crawl space alongside the lieutenant. "Smells like sulphur." "This whole planet smells like sulphur. It also has a weird red glow to it. Did you notice?" "Yeah, like `fire and brimstone'." Apollo commented. "Hades..." Starbuck muttered. "It's not just a golf course, you know." Apollo reminded him. "Hmm." Starbuck remarked uncomfortably as he began to crawl forward through the shaft. They continued on in silence for some time. The temperature began to rise and Starbuck could feel sweat beading on his brow. "It's getting hot." "I have a bad feeling about this, Starbuck." Apollo told him. The hair at the nape of his neck we Faceman sitting there with my woman!" He snarled at Starbuck. "If you were thinking of a General Motors Type- 200 automatic," said Murdock, snipping holes in his socks for his newly-cleaned and painted toes, "the station wagon at the asylum could use some work." "I'm not Faceman." Starbuck reminded BA. "And where in Hades Hole did he get a name like that anyhow? His parents weren't fond of him, huh?" "He ain't got no parents, Sucka! It's what we call him. His family. Besides, Starbuck isn't exactly on the top forty baby names around these parts either." "Imagine that." The Warrior replied nonchalantly. "So... she asks you to dance. You can dance, can't you?" "Does he look like Fred Astaire to you?" Chameleon replied wryly. He turned to Amy, and said quietly; "I wouldn't wear a tophat, if I were him." "I agree," Amy nodded back, "unless he can find one in a camouflage print. Then he might just be able to pull it off." "I do tuff!" ************* As the walls glowed brighter and brighter, Apollo saw the hole through which Starbuck had fallen. He stopped, grateful to have seen it in time. He peered over the edge, but could see only darkness in the stygian depths below, As he began to back up, he noticed several things. One, a small card was rising out of the aforemention stygian depths. It emerged into the light, and he tentitively reached out for it. It was printed in an ancient and obscure Colonial dialect, known to scholars as Monopolon, and he had to puzzle it for a bit. Suddenly it came to him. "Go to Hades. Go directly to Hades. Do not pass Go, do not collect 200 cubits," he said, reading the card aloud. Second, he noticed another card. He took it as well. It said: Happy Landings. "Happy Landings?" "Yes," said another card. "Happy landings." "But, I..." Third, the tunnel beneath him suddenly opened up, and Apollo found himself following Stokay. I can slow dance." BA replied indignantly to the Warrior, ignoring the others. "Anyone can slow dance, Boomer." Murdock inserted. "Stop calling me that, crazy man!" "So she asks you to dance." Starbuck reiterated. "After finishing your ambrosa, you rise, take her hand... and lead her to the dance floor. She leans in really close. You can feel every intimate detail of her taut, sensuous body as she presses against you." BA flushed. "I think I can take it from there." "I've heard enough as well." Chameleon adds, shaking off the mental image. "After all, he dances like a Cylon... and I'm not talking about Cy, either." He eyed his son, who had been avoiding his glance ever since the old conman had disclosed that he was Starbuck's father. This was hardly the place to have a heart to heart with Starbuck, but he was a little hurt that the boy didn't even seem interested in raising the subject. "What's a Cylon, man?" "Kind of likeas sticking up. Starbuck nodded absently as he continued to crawl slightly ahead of his friend in the dark. The surface of the shaft was also heating up. He waved his hands in the air to cool them slightly before again getting down on all fours to continue on. He could hear Apollo muttering slightly behind him. If it got any warmer they would end up with burnt hands and knees as their bare skin came in contact with the hot metal shaft. He was just beginning to wonder if it would be wiser to retreat when abruptly his right hand shot forward into empty space and his torso followed suit, due to his forward momentum. "Frack!" he shouted as his body began free falling through the humid air. Stay tuned for the next purgatorial episode of the Starbuck Chronicles when you'll hear Apollo say, "Go to Hades. Go directly to Hades. Do not pass go. Do not collect 200 cubits." ======= Part 60 Free falling into darkness. It was like a nightequa. Only the complete awareness that he was wiarbuck into those very same depths, quite, quite stygian, which we mentioned earlier. "Ohhhhhh fraaaaaaaaaaaackkkk........." Oh, yeah. The lights had gone out, too. *************** Suddenly, a soft melodious sound seemed to come from nowhere. Either that or it came from the stygian depths. Entirely possible. Once in a dream... far beyond these castle walls... down by the bay where the moonlit water falls... I stood alone while the minstrel sang his song...So afraid I'd lost my soul... ************* At the Club House, Lucifer watched as the Butler Guy brought the drinks trolley back inside. Moved closer, and the Butler Guy turned to him. "Tell me," asked the IL Series Cylon, "what kind of benefits package do you get around here?" The Butler Guy held up a card, and Lucifer's oscillating optical sensors sped up. "You're kidding? Really?" Really! **************** Meanwhile, back aboard the Fleet, Apollo's children a washer/dryer/garberator on legs, with a serious attitude problem. No ceiling fan though." Starbuck summarized as he leaned over the pram once again, holding onto his indifferent facade by a thread. Cassie had obviously lied to him about the genetic testing... unless Chameleon was lying to him now. What the frack was going on? "Are you sure this thing will run?" "Of course. What are you? Chicken?" BA taunted him. "Caprican." Starbuck shrugged. "So how do we get to the parallel universe to start the race?" "Well, if you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire... the A-Team." Hannibal returned, lighting up again. "Yeah, especially since you and Face lost all the retirement funds gambling in that other dimension." Amy crossed her arms. "I had to give Domino's my credit card number." "Uh... what do you mean if you can find them? You guys are them... aren't you?" Starbuck stammered in confusion. de awake made it even more frightening. The humid air grew increasingly warm as Starbuck hurtled downward. There was no possible way he could survive the fall. But, it was the waiting that was killing him. His hands flailed helplessly as he sought to grab something... anything that would slow his mad descent into the void beneath him. The sulphuric stench that filled his senses became even more overpowering the further he fell. His breathing became laboured as the hot air seemed to burn his airway. Each inhalation was tortuous as he fought to keep his breathing slow and steady. He cupped a hand over his mouth, as if he could somehow filter the fumes that penetrated his lungs. *Like that would help, Bucko. *After a moment, he reached into a pocket, and pulled out something Cassie had forgotten a while back, after they...well.....and put it over his face. He sneezed, as the lace tickled his nose. And still he fell. Deeper and deeper. To his... * * * * * "Starbuck!" Apoby Vela were getting bored. All, of course, except for Igraine. She looked through the copy/fax machine/scanner/printer machine vortex, and saw Apollo plunging into the depths. "Stygian, aren't they?" she asked Athena. "What?" "The depths," replied the girl. "Stygian." "Yes, quite. I wonder where he is, and what's going to happen to him." "How in Hades can we possibly answer that?" asked Tigh. After they all glared at him for a full centon, he suddenly remembered a fire drill that was scheduled for the water recycling plant, and left. "Anyway, he deserves it!" continued Igraine, crossly. "Leaving mother with all of us, and no support. Not a cubit. HA! He never even wrote. I tell ya.... MEN!" "Athena," asked Adama, "What happened to Sheba?" He meanwhile prayed to all the Lords, that Igraine was not truly a product of his son's sexual meanderings. Luckily, the Commander was a multi-tasker. "Hades if I know." **************** "My dear Lieutenant, Hannibal is simply quoting a well known line from our press agent." Murdock elaborated. "Are you actually going to charge me to get back home?" Starbuck asked. "Not if you can get our funds back." Hannibal conceded. Starbuck sighed. "I'll work something out. If you have to, you can garnishee my wages." "With parsley." Murdock asked. "And a wedge of orange? Always nice to mix colours and textures." "I don't know about in your star system, but in this one a Lieutenant doesn't exactly get rich on a year's salary." Hannibal remarked. "Why'd you think I offered?" Starbuck grinned in response. "Okay, so how do we find a wormhole to the Perambulator 500 and the Interdimensional Chancery?" "Does Steve Wynn own that one too?" Hannibal asked Chameleon. "In partnership with Fausto from the Rising Star." The older man returned. "But the Nomen get a cut." "I see." Hannibal nodded. "Well, as soon as we llo shouted as he saw his friend disappear into nothingness. "Frack!... frack!... frack!..." echoed back at him, almost mocking him as the voice grew dimmer.Apollo crawled slowly forward, carefully placing one hand in front of the other. He stopped and spat into his hands, which were beginning to burn with the heat of the shaft. "Starbuck!" he called again. No answer. "What in the Lords... ?" Apollo muttered as he advanced on the position where Starbuck had simply disappeared. He was well aware that the Lieutenant hadn't seen what lay ahead of him when he had plummeted into... whatever it was. He patted blindly ahead of him in the darkness and tried to make out the opening that swallowed his buddy, as sweat dripped from his face. Eerily, the walls of the shaft suddenly began to glow again with the same reddish cast that had seemed to encompass them earlier. Apollo realized that they hadn't really noticed the gradual diminishment of the strange light. Oddly, jus Apollo kept falling, the stifling heat and choking air growing ever more stifling (and choking) as he continued into those depths that were by the micron looking more and more stygian. He wondered if Starbuck was still falling. Was he still alive? WHERE were they headed? (As if he didn't know!!!) But, above all, he wondered, as he saw Starbuck sailing upwards and then past him... WHY do they always have to make the ground so hard? WHERE has Apollo landed? IS he hurt? WHERE is Starbuck? WHAT is Belloby's Mistress Plan? WHAT happened to all the Priestesses? WILL Lucifer find a new career as a barkeep? WHERE was Sheba scratching? WHEN (oh when??????) will we tie up all these bizzarely bizarre threads, and get to the conclusion of our story? :) :) :) For the answers to at least some of these gluteally abhorrent questions, be with us next time for the next predicate nominatively-packed episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear Igraine say, find some wheels..." "Wheels?" shouted BA. "What about my van, man?" "Repossessed." Hannibal informed him regrettably. "They got it when I was still in costume down at the studio." "Studio?" asked Fre....Chameleon. "Yup. We're finishing up on Son of Aquamanic VI: Tsunami Of Death." "Sounds...artistic." "Oh yeah. Sky's the limit." "Face's Vette in still in the garage." Murdock informed them, after a quick check. "Hmm. Must have paid cash." Hannibal shrugged. Leave it to the conman. "Okay, everyone into the Vette. It's gonna be a bit tight, but we have to get to Nevada." "Las Vegas?" asked Chemeleon. "No, Area 51. I have it on good authority from Frank Herbert that they have a wormhole there." Hannibal informed them. "This should spice things up," said Amy. IS there truly a wormhole in Area 51? HOW can you get six adults into a two seater Vette? WILL Face want to remain on the Galactica st as Starbuck was about to approach the breach in the shaft, the light had been almost completely extinguished. Almost as if... an involuntary shiver ran through his body. Which was odd, since he had shivered voluntarily a few times already. * * * * * "BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" cackled Belloby, watching events unfold before her in her crystal ball. "Everything is just going according to my Mistress Plan!!" "I have to admit, Bells, that look on Apollo's face almost makes up for fifty-one eps of deep patrols." Sheba scratched herself in one of those places the TV censors wouldn't like her to. "Takes a toll on a girl's padding, all that sitting on a seat designed by a masochist, let me tell you." "You're telling me," replied Belloby, adjusting a knob on the crystal ball. She squirmed, trying to get comfy. "You...are squashing me!!!!" gurgled Baltar. "No mong, Megabrain! Oooh!" gurgled Belloby, bouncing on her seat. "Here comes some good s "I don't think I'll ever need those, Athena. I'm sure I'm going to take after Grandma." ======= The Electric Company Blows A Fuse will not be seen at this time, in order that we may present the following revolting program. The Starbuck Chronicles Part 61 ******************* Starbuck opened his eyes just in time to see Apollo dropping past him. What the frack had happened? One micron he was hurtling downwards into an infinite (and of course, stygian) blackness and the next the mysterious chute had suddenly been illuminated with that same eerie red glow to reveal a man. Starbuck had felt his descent slow significantly and suddenly had been filled with a micronite hope that he wasn't going to be crushed by the tremendous pressure of his downward momentum. (In other words, go splat. Okay?) He had actually seen the craggy terrain below and the writhing river that twisted and rent its way through the sere and barren landscape. The man had stood at the so Athena can have his baby? IS he going to remain long enough for her to? WHAT will happen to Starbuck if Face doesn't enter the wormhole at the crucial moment? OR, what if he DOES enter...at the crucial moment? HOW did there get to be a crucial moment? WHAT if we missed it while we were writing and posting this story?? Oh, Lords, I can't take the stress of it all... where's the chocolate?? For the answers to these, and several other high- glucose content questions, don't miss the next cohesionally challenged episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll here Athena say... "A little to the left. Oh...yessss..right there!" ======= Around the World in 80 Days will not be seen at this time, because we don't have the time. In its place, we present the following short piece because sometimes it's about the time you make, not the time you take. Without further adon't, we present the Starbuck Chronicles-Part 78. "Hey!" "What happened? The lights.tuff!" ************* As the walls glowed brighter and brighter, Apollo saw the hole through which Starbuck had fallen. He stopped, grateful to have seen it in time. He peered over the edge, but could see only darkness in the stygian depths below, As he began to back up, he noticed several things. One, a small card was rising out of the aforemention stygian depths. It emerged into the light, and he tentitively reached out for it. It was printed in an ancient and obscure Colonial dialect, known to scholars as Monopolon, and he had to puzzle it for a bit. Suddenly it came to him. "Go to Hades. Go directly to Hades. Do not pass Go, do not collect 200 cubits," he said, reading the card aloud. Second, he noticed another card. He took it as well. It said: Happy Landings. "Happy Landings?" "Yes," said another card. "Happy landings." "But, I..." Third, the tunnel beneath him suddenly opened up, and Apollo found himself following Stide of the river beside a small boat. He had worn long white robes that had somehow reminded Starbuck of another man... He had been shuffling a deck of cards. The Lieutenant had paused in his thought of faint recognition as he fell ever closer to the river. The ferocious heat and foul stench that had emanated from the river had been overpowering. Tears had welled in his eyes and his throat had constricted, as the fear that he was simply going to drop into the... fiery... yes, fiery flow of contempt that thrashed and contorted its way through the depths of human misery and suffering, had overcome him. He briefly wondered if the lace over his was holding was fireproof. (Huh?) Sheer terror had forced a scream from his lips, but the river had swept it away as though feeding upon his emotions. The flames had suddenly licked higher, almost in delight, until he could feel them beneath his feet. "Oh, bloody 'ades 'ole... " a definite accent, again so familiar... yet somehow .." "Oh hell. Larson forget to pay the light bill again?" Starbuck muttered, wondering why he had to get sandwiched between the big, angry guy and the nutbar, instead of being thrust into the attractive, dark-haired beauty carrying the flatbread with Vela-veeta (who knew the marketing would make it so far, so fast?), nightshade sauce, and several interesting `toppings' as though it was some kind of precious, yet edible, object d'art. "Wrong producer, Lieutenant. Cannell is responsible for the electricity on this end." The Colonel informed him for continuity. "I dunno, Hannibal. It's dark, sure, but sometimes I like to close my eyes and allow myself to be surrounded by darkness. It can be almost comforting, like a soft, velvety blanket.Yet, at the same time, it can either bring peaceful solitude," Murdock paused dramatically before raising his voice, "or the foulest deliverance of our worst nightmares." He returned to his usual relaxed air. "Still, it has a sort of...ambianarbuck into those very same depths, quite, quite stygian, which we mentioned earlier. "Ohhhhhh fraaaaaaaaaaaackkkk........." Oh, yeah. The lights had gone out, too. *************** Suddenly, a soft melodious sound seemed to come from nowhere. Either that or it came from the stygian depths. Entirely possible. Once in a dream... far beyond these castle walls... down by the bay where the moonlit water falls... I stood alone while the minstrel sang his song...So afraid I'd lost my soul... ************* At the Club House, Lucifer watched as the Butler Guy brought the drinks trolley back inside. Moved closer, and the Butler Guy turned to him. "Tell me," asked the IL Series Cylon, "what kind of benefits package do you get around here?" The Butler Guy held up a card, and Lucifer's oscillating optical sensors sped up. "You're kidding? Really?" Really! **************** Meanwhile, back aboard the Fleet, Apollo's children different, had penetrated Starbuck's horror. And then, "Oops." Starbuck had closed his eyes as he waited for the intense flash of heat that would incinerate his body. He had hoped it would at least be quick as he waited... and waited... and waited... Uh... it seemed to be taking a long time. He opened his eyes, and blinked in surprise as Apollo dropped like a stone past him. * * * * * "Hah! Did you see Starbuck's face?" Belloby cackled uproariously as she gazed into her crystal ball, now surrounded by Divas-R-Us. "Serves him right for not kissing me properly down in Serenity," she told Sheba. "Well, if you hadn't had cheap Boray rotgut on your breath..." wheezed Baltar. "Hey! I'll have you know that all I had was water! Besides, everyone knows the lawman is supposed to smooch the damsel in distress," screeched Belloby, pounding on her seat. "It's in all the melodramas! Sheeesh! A little floverd lipstick..." "Do you expect a boy to do thce. Don't you think?" "Think? Since when did you ever think, Fool?" BA growled as he peeled Starbuck off his back and pushed him backwards. "Well, B.A., it's sort of comforting. Reminds me of the time I had my first electroshock treatment, the one with the really sexy nurse, and the grid went down." Murdock replied, catching the flailing Lieutenant and setting him back on his feet. "It would, Fool!" "I think it's sort of...cozy, really." "Hey, get your hand off my astrum," Starbuck snapped. "Getting a bit too cozy for my taste, pal." "Sorry, Bucko." Murdock apologized. "Colonel's orders. Had to frisk you for the ole mucho missing dinero, muchacho." "Amy, what are you doing?" "Oh, that isn't your wallet, Cham?" "Watch yourself, son." Chameleon warned him. "They'll stop at nothing to get their retirement funds back. And they seem to do things a little differently in the eighties." "Here we are. The stairs to the garage." "Great, Hannby Vela were getting bored. All, of course, except for Igraine. She looked through the copy/fax machine/scanner/printer machine vortex, and saw Apollo plunging into the depths. "Stygian, aren't they?" she asked Athena. "What?" "The depths," replied the girl. "Stygian." "Yes, quite. I wonder where he is, and what's going to happen to him." "How in Hades can we possibly answer that?" asked Tigh. After they all glared at him for a full centon, he suddenly remembered a fire drill that was scheduled for the water recycling plant, and left. "Anyway, he deserves it!" continued Igraine, crossly. "Leaving mother with all of us, and no support. Not a cubit. HA! He never even wrote. I tell ya.... MEN!" "Athena," asked Adama, "What happened to Sheba?" He meanwhile prayed to all the Lords, that Igraine was not truly a product of his son's sexual meanderings. Luckily, the Commander was a multi-tasker. "Hades if I know." ****************e job of a man?" Baltar gasped from the floor on hands and knees from where he supported the woman's ample bottom upon his back. "Ottoman, shush!" Belloby cackled again. "I... am... NOT... an ottoman!" Baltar cried in objection. "Balls, you are such a turkey!" * * * * * "Starbuck..." Apollo gasped out in surprise, but his friend was gone as quickly as he had appeared. Only this time, he was headed upwards. Apollo again looked down to see the strange, crimson glow starting to illuminate the enigmatic chute. Something seemed to be approaching him at an increasing velocity. It appeared like a white blur as it drew closer and closer... It looked like... well, very much like... A man in a white flowing robe... riding a... pool cue. "IBLIS!" Apollo shouted out, as anger and a little fear filled his heart. Reflexively, he reached for he weapon, and cursed to find it gone. The man slowed his ascent and drew closer to the Captain.ibal, we can...AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!" CRASH. TUMBLE. "OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!" "Outta my face, Fool!" "Face? But he's..." "SHUDDUP!!!" "Where my top hat?" Meanwhile... "What happened? We run out of tylium again?" "I think Larson forgot to pay the bill again." "Imagine that!" "Any flashlights around here?" "Coming up, Mister Director. Oh, here they are." Click. "Ah!" I can see again. "A little to the left. Oh...yessss..right there!" "Oooh, sounds good!" "Watch it, Benedict! There's not enough chocolate in the world, bub!" "But it's Belgian!" "You never give up trying, do you?" "I'm trying. Ooooh, I'm trying!" WHAT has happened? WHY did all the lights go out? DID Larson forget to pay the bill again? Or was it Cannell? WAS anyone hurt in the garage? HOPE not, since they didn't actually make it into the garage. WHAT is Benedict trying to do to you-know-who? DO you know wh Apollo kept falling, the stifling heat and choking air growing ever more stifling (and choking) as he continued into those depths that were by the micron looking more and more stygian. He wondered if Starbuck was still falling. Was he still alive? WHERE were they headed? (As if he didn't know!!!) But, above all, he wondered, as he saw Starbuck sailing upwards and then past him... WHY do they always have to make the ground so hard? WHERE has Apollo landed? IS he hurt? WHERE is Starbuck? WHAT is Belloby's Mistress Plan? WHAT happened to all the Priestesses? WILL Lucifer find a new career as a barkeep? WHERE was Sheba scratching? WHEN (oh when??????) will we tie up all these bizzarely bizarre threads, and get to the conclusion of our story? :) :) :) For the answers to at least some of these gluteally abhorrent questions, be with us next time for the next predicate nominatively-packed episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear Igraine say, "Dibley's the name, magic's me game." The resemblance to Count Iblis was astounding. As Apollo gazed at him in wonder, he could detect the subtle differences. The slightly off accent. The more narrow face. The slightly darker hair. The deck of cards in one hand. Rover bouncing in the background. The beautiful woman with a champagne glass in one hand in the crook of his arm. The... pool cue. Apollo realized he was now hovering in place, suspended in mid-flight. "But who ARE you?" "Aven't you bin followin' the story line, mate? I'm Count Iblis' lesser known, incipient alchoholic and not-nearly as mean bruther, I am. Sorry, must fly. I've bin assigned t' the other chap, I 'av. Let's be off, me darlin'. We're needed," he said to the woman, and both climbed onto a winged steed. Then to Starbuck; "Cheerio." At that, Apollo once again dropped like a stone and plummeted towards the crimson, fiery, and stygian, depths of the unknown. * * * * * "He's goio? WHY is that one sentence in italics? Does anyone care? For the answers to these and maybe a few less questions, don't forget to catch the next barbecue sauce and basil leaf deficient episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear Ronald D. Moore say, "I never imagined the power could cost so much. Uh, Lorne? How are those cattle futures coming?" ======= Masterpiece Theater Buries Alistair Cooke will not be seen at this time. In its place we present the following rotten program. The Starbuck Chronicles Part 79 It was the first time in 79 episodes that he was completely alone. No chasing bad guys, no battling maniacally laughing demons, no dancing for lecherous women, no looking for Boxey in disreputable arcades, no sister's undies, and no playing second fiddle to Starbuck in those damn chronicles that he had been swept into against his will. Yeah, just Apollo in a dank little bar that he didn't even know existed on one of the lower decks of the Galact "I don't think I'll ever need those, Athena. I'm sure I'm going to take after Grandma." ======= The Electric Company Blows A Fuse will not be seen at this time, in order that we may present the following revolting program. The Starbuck Chronicles Part 61 ******************* Starbuck opened his eyes just in time to see Apollo dropping past him. What the frack had happened? One micron he was hurtling downwards into an infinite (and of course, stygian) blackness and the next the mysterious chute had suddenly been illuminated with that same eerie red glow to reveal a man. Starbuck had felt his descent slow significantly and suddenly had been filled with a micronite hope that he wasn't going to be crushed by the tremendous pressure of his downward momentum. (In other words, go splat. Okay?) He had actually seen the craggy terrain below and the writhing river that twisted and rent its way through the sere and barren landscape. The man had stood at the sng to drop into the fiery river!" Igraine yelled from beside Athena, as she looked through the swirling vortex. "He's doomed! DOOMED I tell you!" "Well, you've sure changed your tune, Ingrate," Adama noted, wondering if the young girl had suddenly had a change of heart over her feelings for her... God forbid... father, now that his very life was at risk. "That's IGRAINE, fossil face." She returned disdainfully. "And I'm just realizing that yahrens of child support payments are about to go up in flames with his miserable hide." "Hades, kid, that's my brother you're talking about. Did your mother really raise you to be so heartless? Are you a few neurons short of a functioning brain or something? What you're really lacking is some manners and some intelligence," Athena replied heatedly, and wondering where Vela was right now. She asked Puppis where his mother was. "I don't know where she is," replied Puppis. "I don't think I'll ever need those, Athenaica. When he had first walked through the wing doors, the dim, almost negligible (and quite stygian), lighting had seemed like a comforting blanket of obscurity. No one would recognize him there, because they simply couldn't see him. He had sat at the bar and ordered the house brew, not even caring what it was, as long as it was cold and strong. He was barely aware of the lone figure sitting a couple seats away as he sipped, until the man spoke to him. Or perhaps it was to another seated on his opposite side. He turned and looked. Aside from a plant in serious need of water and sunshine, there was no one. "Evil isn't all it's cracked up to be." Silence hung at the bar, and after it finally stopped kicking, a few patrons moved to the booths. Apollo peered closely at the man, certain he had heard the voice before, but his lethargy as well as his inherent disinterest in the moment had him shaking his head in indifference and taking another long draught of his brew. "ide of the river beside a small boat. He had worn long white robes that had somehow reminded Starbuck of another man... He had been shuffling a deck of cards. The Lieutenant had paused in his thought of faint recognition as he fell ever closer to the river. The ferocious heat and foul stench that had emanated from the river had been overpowering. Tears had welled in his eyes and his throat had constricted, as the fear that he was simply going to drop into the... fiery... yes, fiery flow of contempt that thrashed and contorted its way through the depths of human misery and suffering, had overcome him. He briefly wondered if the lace over his was holding was fireproof. (Huh?) Sheer terror had forced a scream from his lips, but the river had swept it away as though feeding upon his emotions. The flames had suddenly licked higher, almost in delight, until he could feel them beneath his feet. "Oh, bloody 'ades 'ole... " a definite accent, again so familiar... yet somehow . I'm sure I'm going to take after Grandma. Bad-mannered and half-witted." Igraine replied with a pointed look at Adama. Adama's head swung up sharply at the insult to his dearest Ila. He drew in a sharp breath through his teeth and stared at the juvenile delinquent who could very well... Oh, Lords, please let this be a dream... be his granddaughter. WHO is the mysterious Dibley? WHAT is he going to do with Starbuck? WHO does he work for? WHO is the apealing woman next to him? HOW will Apollo survive in the sulpherous, fiery, and stygian, depths? WILL he and Starbuck meet again? WILL Sheba have some lines next time? WHERE is Vela? WHY wasn't Boomer in this one? WILL Baltar's back ever recover? Dunno. BUT, for the answers to at least some of these teetotachiously exfuncticated interrogatives, tune in for our next rodomontadious episode. Be here, when we'll hear Dibley sing, I am 'Enery the Eighth I am, 'Enery the Eighth I am, I am... Or, if we're very lucky, Apollo say, "AAAAOh, sure it can be glamorous, but beneath all the fire and brimstone, it's lonely. Damn lonely." The man shuffled off his bar stool and moved to a raised stage, sitting on the small stool and grabbing the microphone that had rested there. He paused, taking a drink from his glass before dusting off his bowler, adjusting his carnation, and looking out over the room, his eyes glowing red for a micron. "Lonely. I'm mister lonely. I have nobody for my own. I am so lonely, I'm Mr. Lonely, Wish I had someone to call on the telecom. Now I'm a soldier, a lonely soldier, Away from home through no wish of my own. That's why I'm lonely, I'm Mr. Lonely, I wish that I could go back home." ** Apollo glanced around, feeling as though he was a character in a Fellini Holovid. The plant was ignoring him, as was Silence, and he turned back to his drink. He sighed loudly, as his gaze wandered back to the main attraction. The entertainer finished his short song and downed the rest of his drink, different, had penetrated Starbuck's horror. And then, "Oops." Starbuck had closed his eyes as he waited for the intense flash of heat that would incinerate his body. He had hoped it would at least be quick as he waited... and waited... and waited... Uh... it seemed to be taking a long time. He opened his eyes, and blinked in surprise as Apollo dropped like a stone past him. * * * * * "Hah! Did you see Starbuck's face?" Belloby cackled uproariously as she gazed into her crystal ball, now surrounded by Divas-R-Us. "Serves him right for not kissing me properly down in Serenity," she told Sheba. "Well, if you hadn't had cheap Boray rotgut on your breath..." wheezed Baltar. "Hey! I'll have you know that all I had was water! Besides, everyone knows the lawman is supposed to smooch the damsel in distress," screeched Belloby, pounding on her seat. "It's in all the melodramas! Sheeesh! A little floverd lipstick..." "Do you expect a boy to do thHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!" ======= The Incredible Hulk Runs Out Of Deodorant will not be seen at this time. In it's place we present the following hastily made-up program. *********** The Starbuck Chronicles Part 62 Starbuck had to admit that floating gently upwards was preferable to dropping like a stone into the fiery pits of Hades Hole. At the same time, however, his concern for Apollo, who was still free-falling into the dark, damnable, demoniac, diabolical, dour (and stygian) depths, overcame his relief at his own temporary safety. He craned his neck to catch a glimpse of his friend, but only managed to put his body into a spin with his forward momentum. And throw his neck out. "Frack!" he cursed as he tried to slow the spin by waving his arms. It seemed to act like a wind flap as his spin slowed somewhat, but still left him levitating upside down. That was when he saw them. A woman in a tight, form-fitting leather body suit. And what a body! throwing the glass against the wall and watching it shatter into a million shards of spectacular light that burst outward briefly lighting the space. "You know, half of you lot are afraid of me," Again his eyes glowed red, and his form shifted demonically as though his alter ego was trying to make itself known. "...and the other half wonder what it would be like to be me." He raised his glass to the crowd and saluted them, "Community drink." Apollo couldn't help but join the other patrons as he tipped his glass and tasted the cold brew. He watched with interest as a server approached the daemon and handed him a drink, while pointing out the generous contributor. The daemon nodded politely and took a sip. "The nectar of Diabolis himself." His even white teeth glinted in the dim light. "How frightfully delicious. Thank you, my dear. I'll be taking souls backstage after the show." * * * * * At first it had seemed the very stuff of the great romance movies. Meetinge job of a man?" Baltar gasped from the floor on hands and knees from where he supported the woman's ample bottom upon his back. "Ottoman, shush!" Belloby cackled again. "I... am... NOT... an ottoman!" Baltar cried in objection. "Balls, you are such a turkey!" * * * * * "Starbuck..." Apollo gasped out in surprise, but his friend was gone as quickly as he had appeared. Only this time, he was headed upwards. Apollo again looked down to see the strange, crimson glow starting to illuminate the enigmatic chute. Something seemed to be approaching him at an increasing velocity. It appeared like a white blur as it drew closer and closer... It looked like... well, very much like... A man in a white flowing robe... riding a... pool cue. "IBLIS!" Apollo shouted out, as anger and a little fear filled his heart. Reflexively, he reached for he weapon, and cursed to find it gone. The man slowed his ascent and drew closer to the Captain.Lords, the suit accented every perfect curve. Her kinky boots came up to cover her calves, the heels spiky. Her dark hair gently waved onto her shoulders and her eyes were like magnets, drawing his gaze to her. Oh, there was some guy in a dress and a flying steed too. But the woman... "Who are you?" Starbuck asked, his voice a mere whisper. "I'm Dibley. I've come... " Dibley started. "Not you, Granpa. Her." Starbuck clarified as his eyes assessed the woman frankly. He could feel his biopulse rhythm escalating. "Peel. Emma Peel." She told him in a clear, no- nonsense voice. "Under the circumstances, you may call me Mrs. Peel." "Mrs. Peel." Starbuck tried the strange name out. "Sweet lady, I'll call you whatever you like, as long as I can call you." "And you?" she asked, eyebrow cocked. "Lieutenant Starbuck. My friends just call me Starbuck," he replied pouring on the famous Buckers charm. "Hello. Lieutenant," she re a beautiful woman from outer space and getting up close and personal with her on the sofa of her quarters. Athena's eyes were so startling blue that Face could lose himself in them as though he was swimming through their azure depths, down to her very soul. But then she had to ruin it by saying that she wanted his baby. "You do?" He knew that she probably didn't detect it, but he recoiled from her, his body reacting in horror to her announcement as he shriveled up emotionally, and even physically in ways that we won't elaborate on. After all, this isn't an ad for that little blue pill, ya know! "Yes, Baby." Athena replied, her pupils dilated, her lipstick smudged from their kisses. "I want you." Face shook his head, realizing that he had simply heard her wrong. Or at least he hoped that he had. He quickly shifted gears and leaned down for another kiss. Full speed ahead! * * * * * They had barely survived the trip up the staircase. How in Hades Hole were they going "Dibley's the name, magic's me game." The resemblance to Count Iblis was astounding. As Apollo gazed at him in wonder, he could detect the subtle differences. The slightly off accent. The more narrow face. The slightly darker hair. The deck of cards in one hand. Rover bouncing in the background. The beautiful woman with a champagne glass in one hand in the crook of his arm. The... pool cue. Apollo realized he was now hovering in place, suspended in mid-flight. "But who ARE you?" "Aven't you bin followin' the story line, mate? I'm Count Iblis' lesser known, incipient alchoholic and not-nearly as mean bruther, I am. Sorry, must fly. I've bin assigned t' the other chap, I 'av. Let's be off, me darlin'. We're needed," he said to the woman, and both climbed onto a winged steed. Then to Starbuck; "Cheerio." At that, Apollo once again dropped like a stone and plummeted towards the crimson, fiery, and stygian, depths of the unknown. * * * * * "He's goiplied, and held up a small drinking glass to Dibley, who refilled it from a large bottle. "No, it's Star..." "Wait just a mo, mate... " The man in the dress sputtered. "Dibley, you know I can take care of myself." Mrs. Peel reassured him, pulling a old-fashioned pistol apparently made of solid auric from one of her kinky boots. "Might I remind ya, Mrs. Peel, we're 'ere on assignment." Dibley pointed out. "He seems harmless enough, Dibley. Especially hovering upside down," the beautiful woman replied. She reached out a hand and ran her fingertips through Starbuck's hair. "You do wear it long, don't you?" "Yeah, well, it looks better when I'm right side up." Starbuck assured her. "I'm sure." She responded politely to the warrior. "Shall we alight?" she asked Dibley. "Right." He agreed. "You have fumerellos?" Starbuck felt something hook the collar of his flight jacket and was suddenly being pulled along behin to get to Area 51, what and where-ever that was, and find a wormhole, Starbuck wondered as he entered the garage, looking for something called a "Corvette". "It's not anything like a Viper is it?" "No, Face-Man," said Murdock. "We had the exterminator in her a couple of weeks ago." "Uhh...okay." He jumped as he felt something. "Wha...Amy?" "Oooh. I think the exterminator missed one!" she giggled. "Yeahhhhhhhhhhhh..." "I never imagined the power could cost so much. Uh, Lorne? How are those cattle futures coming?" came a voice from off stage. "Shh! We're rolling!" "Not yet," said Murdock. "But wait until I take my meds, and then..." "QUIET!" "Oh, sorry." "Again, from the top." "I never imagined the power could cost so much. Uh, Lorne? How are those cattle futures coming?" "Not you, Ron!" "Uh, sorry bout that. Won't happen again." "Good. Take it away, Dirk." "Garage scene, take 2." "And make sure that Rong to drop into the fiery river!" Igraine yelled from beside Athena, as she looked through the swirling vortex. "He's doomed! DOOMED I tell you!" "Well, you've sure changed your tune, Ingrate," Adama noted, wondering if the young girl had suddenly had a change of heart over her feelings for her... God forbid... father, now that his very life was at risk. "That's IGRAINE, fossil face." She returned disdainfully. "And I'm just realizing that yahrens of child support payments are about to go up in flames with his miserable hide." "Hades, kid, that's my brother you're talking about. Did your mother really raise you to be so heartless? Are you a few neurons short of a functioning brain or something? What you're really lacking is some manners and some intelligence," Athena replied heatedly, and wondering where Vela was right now. She asked Puppis where his mother was. "I don't know where she is," replied Puppis. "I don't think I'll ever need those, Athenad the winged equine... and the very strange couple. Lords, she was a sight for sore and lonely eyes, he thought as he was pulled along towards a ridge. "Oh, I am 'Enery the Eighth I am, 'Enery the Eighth I am, I am..." sang Dibley, as they flew. The words only confirmed Starbuck's suspicions that this person was slightly off. After all, what was a "enery", and how did Dibley manage to acquire eight of them?" "Dibley? What's a 'enery', and how did you acquire eight of them?" "Wot? Ain't ya never read no 'istory, me bucko?" "Well...." The equine landed gracefully. Starbuck felt gravity suddenly affect his body and he dropped to the ground, rolling to his feet. He stood quickly to find himself standing before a man who looked vaguely familiar. The long white robes flowed to the ground, but Starbuck quickly noted they were a bit on the scruffy side. He was sure those were fumarello holes burnt into the sleeves, and some sort of flower below and tnald Moore is one of them." Dirk quipped. "Enough already! We'll be here all day if we don't get started now." "Garage scene, take 3." They had barely survived the trip up the staircase. How in Hades Hole were they going to get to Area 51 and find a wormhole, what and where-ever that was, Starbuck wondered as he entered the garage, looking for something called a "Corvette". "What's a Corvette exactly?" he asked. "Little sports car. Goes fast and looks good. Kind of symbolic in Face's case." Hannibal grinned around his cigar. "Right over there." He pointed to a white vehicle with a red racing stripe, much like the recently repossessed van's. "How are we all going to fit into that?" Starbuck asked, intent on squeezing in with Amy and not the big, angry guy. "Don't worry, Bucko. It'll be fun! Almost as much fun as cramming college students into phone booths!" Murdock gushed. "I ain't gettin' in no phone.....Uhh, I'm goin' in first, suckas!" BA averre. I'm sure I'm going to take after Grandma. Bad-mannered and half-witted." Igraine replied with a pointed look at Adama. Adama's head swung up sharply at the insult to his dearest Ila. He drew in a sharp breath through his teeth and stared at the juvenile delinquent who could very well... Oh, Lords, please let this be a dream... be his granddaughter. WHO is the mysterious Dibley? WHAT is he going to do with Starbuck? WHO does he work for? WHO is the apealing woman next to him? HOW will Apollo survive in the sulpherous, fiery, and stygian, depths? WILL he and Starbuck meet again? WILL Sheba have some lines next time? WHERE is Vela? WHY wasn't Boomer in this one? WILL Baltar's back ever recover? Dunno. BUT, for the answers to at least some of these teetotachiously exfuncticated interrogatives, tune in for our next rodomontadious episode. Be here, when we'll hear Dibley sing, I am 'Enery the Eighth I am, 'Enery the Eighth I am, I am... Or, if we're very lucky, Apollo say, "AAAAo the left of the collar. He held a strange stick that had a fabric-like canopy on some kind of frame supported by a central rod. The hook-like handle at the bottom, Starbuck was certain, was what had pulled him along by the collar on their flight to the ridge. At first Starbuck had thought it was a historic-styled pool cue... but now, he wasn't sure. "Dibley? What is that?" he pointed to the unusual stick. "That's me bumbershoot." Dibley explained. "And that's me trusty steed, Bentley." He indicated the equine. "And you are?" Starbuck asked. He looked like a younger, but stupider Count... "Iblis' bruvver." "His what?" Starbuck asked, looking closely at the man's mouth, but trying to avoid the spittle flying in his immediate direction. "Wot, bruvver. Me muvver's uvver son." "Iblis has a family?" Starbuck asked, astounded at the unlikely thought... if he understood correctly. "Of course, 'e 'as a family. Where d'ya think 'e camed, opening the driver's seat and climbing in. Hannibal jumped in beside his Sergeant. "I hope my cigar survives this. C'mon in." He nodded to the others. "Uh, look Hannibal, you seem like a nice guy and all, but I don't want to sit on your lap." Starbuck told him, his arms crossed over his chest. "Do you want to sit on BA's?" Hannibal asked with a grin. "Back seat, Starbuck." "Back seat? That little space behind you? I couldn't cram a midget in there..." Hey! Mind your manners. The phrase is, vertically challenged! A sign appeared before the Lieutenant. "Oh, sorry, I thought you were gone with the others." Starbuck apologized, looking down at the little man. Vertically challenged! (Oh, I'm sorry too.) "Get in Lieutenant!" Hannibal ordered in a voice that made Colonel Tigh at his worse sound warm and inviting. "Lords, how do I get myself into these messes?" Starbuck groaned, cramming himself into the back seat. "I keep asking myself tHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!" ======= The Incredible Hulk Runs Out Of Deodorant will not be seen at this time. In it's place we present the following hastily made-up program. *********** The Starbuck Chronicles Part 62 Starbuck had to admit that floating gently upwards was preferable to dropping like a stone into the fiery pits of Hades Hole. At the same time, however, his concern for Apollo, who was still free-falling into the dark, damnable, demoniac, diabolical, dour (and stygian) depths, overcame his relief at his own temporary safety. He craned his neck to catch a glimpse of his friend, but only managed to put his body into a spin with his forward momentum. And throw his neck out. "Frack!" he cursed as he tried to slow the spin by waving his arms. It seemed to act like a wind flap as his spin slowed somewhat, but still left him levitating upside down. That was when he saw them. A woman in a tight, form-fitting leather body suit. And what a body! from?" Dibley asked, shaking his head. "Crawled out of some dark hole somewhere... " Starbuck suggested. "Well, some parts of London really..." Emma Peel began... "Shh! Don't tell 'im nothing, Mrs. Peel." "Does that mean Iblis is here?" Starbuck demanded as he stepped closer to the man, eyes blazing in fury. He didn't know what London was, but it didn't sound very good. Dark, dingy ...inclement. Kind of like the west coast of North Zamerica where he had done some survival training on Virgon. His bones ached at the very memory of it. Thank the Lords for their ale. Not that peely wally stuff from the south. Who in Hades ever thought of Light Ale anyhow? You ever drink light ale? It was diabolical. Still, their heavier stuff was pretty good... Zoors. Flamier. Olympus. Ah yes. Famous labels... Like heavenly angels peeing on your tongue... Lords, why ever did I say that??????? "Keep yer shirt on, lad. Yeah, Iblis' 'ere." Dibley tohe same thing," said Chameleon, finding himself lodged somewhere between Starbuck's left knee, and Amy's right... "Oh Ginger, where are you?" "That really does look uncomfortable, Colonel." Murdock murmured, looking through the darkened rear window, his entire body stiffening as he shouted out in warning, "BA, don't do it! Don't put your seat back! I promise I'll never share my thorazine with a lobster again...... NOOOOOOO!" The big man slammed the driver's seat into the rear position and a sharp intake of breath was heard behind him, followed by a long groan. And then silence. And then some more silence. And then some more silence after that. "Can I have that last slice of pizza?" asked Murdock. "Shh!" WHAT happens when a 240 lb. man slams a Corvette seat back against a comparatively slight Lieutenant, a frail and aging con-man, and a newswoman in a miniskirt? And, WILL the daemon follow up his solo with a stand-up routine? WHY did someone spelled "deLords, the suit accented every perfect curve. Her kinky boots came up to cover her calves, the heels spiky. Her dark hair gently waved onto her shoulders and her eyes were like magnets, drawing his gaze to her. Oh, there was some guy in a dress and a flying steed too. But the woman... "Who are you?" Starbuck asked, his voice a mere whisper. "I'm Dibley. I've come... " Dibley started. "Not you, Granpa. Her." Starbuck clarified as his eyes assessed the woman frankly. He could feel his biopulse rhythm escalating. "Peel. Emma Peel." She told him in a clear, no- nonsense voice. "Under the circumstances, you may call me Mrs. Peel." "Mrs. Peel." Starbuck tried the strange name out. "Sweet lady, I'll call you whatever you like, as long as I can call you." "And you?" she asked, eyebrow cocked. "Lieutenant Starbuck. My friends just call me Starbuck," he replied pouring on the famous Buckers charm. "Hello. Lieutenant," she reld the advancing Warrior, holding his bumbershoot in front of him. "What about it?" Starbuck asked quizzically. "What?" Dibley asked. "Iblis' ear." Starbuck replied. "No," Dibley interrupted, "Iblis' 'ere." "Right, what about it?" Starbuck asked again. "No, not 'ear'... 'ere'." Dibley responded in frustration. "Huh?" Starbuck asked. "Both ears?" "NO! No wonder Iblis assigned me to you. Yer a pain in the arse, you are, an' no mistake" Dibley told him. He looked at the woman next to him, shaking his head. "Muvver said there'd be days like this." "Just what is your assignment?" Starbuck asked, losing patience with the man. But the woman, Lords... * * * * * "AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!" screamed Apollo as he looked down to see the fiery, writhing, undulating, stygian river below him. His body came to a sudden stop, possibly due to the giant white balloon he'd landed on. He tried to push himself awayplied, and held up a small drinking glass to Dibley, who refilled it from a large bottle. "No, it's Star..." "Wait just a mo, mate... " The man in the dress sputtered. "Dibley, you know I can take care of myself." Mrs. Peel reassured him, pulling a old-fashioned pistol apparently made of solid auric from one of her kinky boots. "Might I remind ya, Mrs. Peel, we're 'ere on assignment." Dibley pointed out. "He seems harmless enough, Dibley. Especially hovering upside down," the beautiful woman replied. She reached out a hand and ran her fingertips through Starbuck's hair. "You do wear it long, don't you?" "Yeah, well, it looks better when I'm right side up." Starbuck assured her. "I'm sure." She responded politely to the warrior. "Shall we alight?" she asked Dibley. "Right." He agreed. "You have fumerellos?" Starbuck felt something hook the collar of his flight jacket and was suddenly being pulled along behinmon" with an "a"? HOW did the vertically challenged Butler Guy end up in the garage? WILL Lorne ever Hos...uh, fess up about those cattle futures? WHAT part of Amy was Starbuck leaning up against? WILL Murdock get the last slice of pizza, and WHO is he asking? WHAT happened to all the lawyers and plaintiffs we had a few eps back? For the answers to these and several other mind-bogglingly post- prandially perambulatory questions, don't miss the next convectively unstable, non-propitiatory episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when you'll hear a mysterious voice scream, "Leto!" and Hannibal (if you're really good) mention, "this isn't quite the wormhole we had in mind". ======= Words and Music by Bobby Vinton and Gene Allan (and if you can't hear the music, buy another round). The Sandworms Do Las Vegas will not be seen at this time. In it's place we present the following spiced-up program. The Starbuck Chronicles Part 80 Apollo nodded to the barkeep as anot, and the horrid object rolled to one side, and he hung in mid-air, feeling the intense heat and smelling the sulphur. The sweat poured off of him and he wondered just how in Hades Starbuck had managed to rebound back up and away from the cesspool... uh, river, below him. Some guys have all the luck... "Ah, Captain, so pleasant of you to have dropped in." Count Iblis told him from the far side of the river. "Iblis, I knew you had something to do with this!" Apollo spat at him. "Now, now, Apollo, why so bitter? After all, those silly old sods from the Ship Of Lights brought you back to life. Do you actually harbour ill feelings towards me? How... petty." "You won't win this time either, Iblis. Even here. Even in Hades Hole. Every test, every trial, every tribulation you send our way only makes us stronger!" "Is that so?" Iblis chuckled mirthlessly. "Then join me Apollo. If you dare." He snapped his fingers, and with a dull roar, Rover rolled awad the winged equine... and the very strange couple. Lords, she was a sight for sore and lonely eyes, he thought as he was pulled along towards a ridge. "Oh, I am 'Enery the Eighth I am, 'Enery the Eighth I am, I am..." sang Dibley, as they flew. The words only confirmed Starbuck's suspicions that this person was slightly off. After all, what was a "enery", and how did Dibley manage to acquire eight of them?" "Dibley? What's a 'enery', and how did you acquire eight of them?" "Wot? Ain't ya never read no 'istory, me bucko?" "Well...." The equine landed gracefully. Starbuck felt gravity suddenly affect his body and he dropped to the ground, rolling to his feet. He stood quickly to find himself standing before a man who looked vaguely familiar. The long white robes flowed to the ground, but Starbuck quickly noted they were a bit on the scruffy side. He was sure those were fumarello holes burnt into the sleeves, and some sort of flower below and ther mug of grog was placed in front of him. Lords sake, it was good to relax after all he had been through. He could feel a pleasant warmth spreading through his limbs as the alcohol worked its way into his system. His body felt relaxed, as did his mind. Nothing pressing. Nobody demanding his time or attention. No Cylons, demons, bowls of bluthrgg from that other storyline, or even dead people. Just kick back and enjoy the somewhat unusual entertainment. Suddenly, a spotlight lit up the stage, and, after the extinguishers had put it out, a voice rang out to the accompaniment of a drumroll... "And now, direct from Cylon, from an extended tour at the Imperial Palace, your demented evil leader and mine, old Bug Eyes himself, the Imperious Leader!" Apollo paused, even after the drum had rolled across the stage, looking closely at the Being who sauntered up onto stage, doing a little soft shoe routine, before taking the mic from the emcee and tossing it from hand to hand. A smy into the gloom. The Count then pointed to the Captain who, following the path of Iblis' finger, was gently set down upon the ground... but on the wrong side of the river. "Why would I do that?" Apollo asked viciously. "Why should I play your game?" "Because, not only do I have your friend, Lieutenant Starbuck, but I also have your son, Boxey." "That's utter felgercarb, Iblis. Boxey is safely with Boomer in Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel and Fooling Around Paraphernalia Emporium." Apollo refuted his statement vehemently. Starbuck... well, Apollo knew that he could take care of himself... maybe. Iblis laughed demonically, he had a flare for it after all. His eyes shone red, as that was all the currency they had left for the special effects after setting up the stygian river on the set, levitating the warriors over it and attaching wings to a horse with digital enhancement, not to mention all the effects they did for Virtual Season 2. Those dinosaurs...gads! Ano the left of the collar. He held a strange stick that had a fabric-like canopy on some kind of frame supported by a central rod. The hook-like handle at the bottom, Starbuck was certain, was what had pulled him along by the collar on their flight to the ridge. At first Starbuck had thought it was a historic-styled pool cue... but now, he wasn't sure. "Dibley? What is that?" he pointed to the unusual stick. "That's me bumbershoot." Dibley explained. "And that's me trusty steed, Bentley." He indicated the equine. "And you are?" Starbuck asked. He looked like a younger, but stupider Count... "Iblis' bruvver." "His what?" Starbuck asked, looking closely at the man's mouth, but trying to avoid the spittle flying in his immediate direction. "Wot, bruvver. Me muvver's uvver son." "Iblis has a family?" Starbuck asked, astounded at the unlikely thought... if he understood correctly. "Of course, 'e 'as a family. Where d'ya think 'e cameattering of applause died down quickly as his Imperiousness reached for the three-legged stool, seemingly using all his strength to drag it forward into the spotlight. "Hey, it's generally not my brawn that I'm known for." he quipped, as he sat heavily. "Do they still make an insulated java-pot, by the way?" A few tittering laughs. "Well, that was certainly a close shave, wan'it?" Apollo shook his head as he considered the robed figure that he had never seen in person before. Few men had, and had actually lived to tell about it. His immense head held a certain amount of grotesque fascination to the Captain, and Apollo stared in wonder and in horror. "Here's looking at you, kid," the Imperious Leader pointed at Apollo. "So three Cylon Centurions walk into a bar .you'd think that with the new and improved sensor array in the roving red optical detector, that one of them would have seen the damn thing!" Apollo held up his hand, looking for another drink, this one a doublyway... "Apollo, my dear boy, you are so far behind you probably think that Sheba, Vela and Siress Belloby are all on your side." He lifted back his head and chortled maniacally. "They are my minions now. Mine! That wasn't even Lieutenant Boomer with you. It was Over-Lieutenant Korax's lesser known shape-shifting brother, Borax. It was so easy to soft-soap him. For the donation of a few slaves and a promise of glory in his present life, he quite eagerly was willing to bring your son to me." "... but... where's Boomer?" Apollo asked hesitantly, as he thought back on Boomer's strange behavior since they had been on the baseship. Almost as if he had some kind of a grudge against Starbuck. If, indeed, Borax was Korax's brother, that would make sense. Iblis smiled slowly and deliberately, his red eyes strobing. "Like a good friend once before him, he stayed on the Galactica to seduce your sister, Athena. You have been betrayed!" "Boomer and Athena?" Apollo mused. " from?" Dibley asked, shaking his head. "Crawled out of some dark hole somewhere... " Starbuck suggested. "Well, some parts of London really..." Emma Peel began... "Shh! Don't tell 'im nothing, Mrs. Peel." "Does that mean Iblis is here?" Starbuck demanded as he stepped closer to the man, eyes blazing in fury. He didn't know what London was, but it didn't sound very good. Dark, dingy ...inclement. Kind of like the west coast of North Zamerica where he had done some survival training on Virgon. His bones ached at the very memory of it. Thank the Lords for their ale. Not that peely wally stuff from the south. Who in Hades ever thought of Light Ale anyhow? You ever drink light ale? It was diabolical. Still, their heavier stuff was pretty good... Zoors. Flamier. Olympus. Ah yes. Famous labels... Like heavenly angels peeing on your tongue... Lords, why ever did I say that??????? "Keep yer shirt on, lad. Yeah, Iblis' 'ere." Dibley toe. Amateur Night at the Lost Souls Bar, Grill, and Exotic Booze Emporium was a strange but welcome diversion from the rigors of the Captain's everyday life. Chameleon's groan seemed to last an eternity after BA slammed the car seat of the Vette back into its rear-most position. And with every bit of breath that the conman expelled, that meant another iota of space had opened up so that Starbuck could draw some oxygen into his starved lungs to fuel his battered body. The Vette peeled out, taking off out of the garage and into the street, with Murdock flying into the backseat to land atop Starbuck, Chameleon, and Amy. The gangly pilot grabbed a hold of the tops of both bucket seats, hollering, "Yeehawwwww!" as he pulled himself forward trying to find a more comfortable position. "Better find me a plane, Colonel. I just don't think we're going to be able to drive to Area 51 with six people in Face's Vette." "I ain't getting' on no plane, Sucka!" BA spat, though he automatHoly frack. I thought that was only in Senmut's VS2 stuff!" "Come now, Apollo. You never heard of crossovers?" Never mind that now! You can't believe what he tells you. "Where is my son?" "Bwahahahahaha! You'll have to find a way across the river to find out." Iblis replied, blinking his eyes repeatedly. The strobe light effect was beginning to give him a headache. * * * * * Meanwhile, back on the Galactica: "Lords, I have to get to them and help!" Boomer cried as he watched the events unfold in the vortex from just over Athena's shoulder--her creamy white, soft, seductive right shoulder, with no tan line at all, that had an equally enticing match just across the top of her head. He leaned down and kissed the engaging piece of flesh and soon found a path that led up to her neck... "Uh... Lieutenant... " Adama cleared his throat. Boomer's head snapped back up and he stood at attention. "Yes, sir." "You were going to go helld the advancing Warrior, holding his bumbershoot in front of him. "What about it?" Starbuck asked quizzically. "What?" Dibley asked. "Iblis' ear." Starbuck replied. "No," Dibley interrupted, "Iblis' 'ere." "Right, what about it?" Starbuck asked again. "No, not 'ear'... 'ere'." Dibley responded in frustration. "Huh?" Starbuck asked. "Both ears?" "NO! No wonder Iblis assigned me to you. Yer a pain in the arse, you are, an' no mistake" Dibley told him. He looked at the woman next to him, shaking his head. "Muvver said there'd be days like this." "Just what is your assignment?" Starbuck asked, losing patience with the man. But the woman, Lords... * * * * * "AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!" screamed Apollo as he looked down to see the fiery, writhing, undulating, stygian river below him. His body came to a sudden stop, possibly due to the giant white balloon he'd landed on. He tried to push himself awayically took the freeway towards the nearest private air strip. After all, it didn't seem to matter how many times they knocked him out and stuck him on a plane, episode after episode, he kept trying to `one up' them. Oh, and this time he would. Starbuck could feel Amy pressed up against him, her mini skirt riding tantalizingly high on her thighs as she straddled him, her curvaceous body squirming against him as she sought purchase. Or even a short-term lease. She scrambled, trying to stabilize herself, as the car rocked from side to side with each turn and twist as the A-team flew towards its destination. "Oomph!" Starbuck wheezed, as Amy's sudden position change turned into an octave-altering vocal exercise, knocking what little breath he had been able to regain, right out again. "Easy," he squealed, gripping her hips to steady her. "Am not!" she hissed. "Put her down, Lieutenant!" Hannibal barked. "You know the Team rules regarding Miss Allen." "No I don't." Sp?" Adama reminded him, a highly polished shotgun on the desk before him "Uh... yes, sir. Sorry, sir. I went through a lot of episodes without a romantic interest, if you remember." He took a deep breath. "I need to find a way to ride through the vortex safely. Did anyone see how Sheba did it?" Boomer asked. "No... one micron she was here cursing Apollo, and the next she was gone." Adama stated. "However, now that we know Iblis is involved, I'm sure he was a part of ensuring her safe passage." "Sir, I'm going to go speak to Hummer. He was telling me about a board that his people used to use to ride tumultuous water formations. Perhaps he can adapt his ideas to the vortex." "Good idea, Lieutenant Boomer. Go. And may the Lords of Kobol guide you on your journey." Adama nodded solemnly. "Sir, I'm just going to the electronics department." Boomer reminded him. "Oh? All right then, but hurry." * * * * * "Bells, Vela, did you hea, and the horrid object rolled to one side, and he hung in mid-air, feeling the intense heat and smelling the sulphur. The sweat poured off of him and he wondered just how in Hades Starbuck had managed to rebound back up and away from the cesspool... uh, river, below him. Some guys have all the luck... "Ah, Captain, so pleasant of you to have dropped in." Count Iblis told him from the far side of the river. "Iblis, I knew you had something to do with this!" Apollo spat at him. "Now, now, Apollo, why so bitter? After all, those silly old sods from the Ship Of Lights brought you back to life. Do you actually harbour ill feelings towards me? How... petty." "You won't win this time either, Iblis. Even here. Even in Hades Hole. Every test, every trial, every tribulation you send our way only makes us stronger!" "Is that so?" Iblis chuckled mirthlessly. "Then join me Apollo. If you dare." He snapped his fingers, and with a dull roar, Rover rolled awatarbuck grinned, rechecking to make sure she, and her hips, were quite steady. After all, a Viper pilot has to be quite, quite sure about these things before launching. "I'm not Face! I thought I made that clear." "So did I." Murdock added. "And I'm not even invisible." "Me too, Hannibal." BA grunted. "Yet, anyway," said Murdock. "Shut up, Fool!" "I still have my doubts, Lieutenant." Hannibal yelled back over his shoulder. "So do I," Amy added, wondering why her brassiere was suspiciously undone-wait a minute-actually, it was gone altogether! "Face!" she yelled, smacking him soundly across the ..Face. Tee hee hee. "That's my boy!" Chameleon chuckled, glad that yahrens of dancing had limbered him up sufficiently to comfortably recline into a pretzel position on both the floor, and part of one seat of the Vette. "Owwwww." Starbuck whined. "He's Face all right," Hannibal yelled. "Say Murdock, you got any of those breadsticks left?" "Well,r that?" Sheba asked. "Iblis said we're his minions. Is that true?" "Well, I feel kind of diminutive all of a sudden, but I don't know that they're related." Belloby told her. Vela simply stood by shaking her head in bewilderment. A hush came over the small gathering of women who stared into the Siress' crystal ball. "I can't believe that I was suckered by that... Diablo again!" Sheba raved as she thought back to her insanely jealous behavior. "Girls, we have to do something to help Apollo." "But he is kinda cute," said one of the lustful priestesses from an earlier chapter, there suddenly for dramatic effect. "Bad dancing aside." "Quiet, Libidia!" boomed Belloby. "'k. Geeze..." "Yes, you're right, Sheba. But what?" Vela agreed, guilt suddenly filling her about her accusation of Apollo's paternity regarding her array of children. If he wasn't their father, then who? She remembered him, so clearly, as he'd made wild, passionate ly into the gloom. The Count then pointed to the Captain who, following the path of Iblis' finger, was gently set down upon the ground... but on the wrong side of the river. "Why would I do that?" Apollo asked viciously. "Why should I play your game?" "Because, not only do I have your friend, Lieutenant Starbuck, but I also have your son, Boxey." "That's utter felgercarb, Iblis. Boxey is safely with Boomer in Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel and Fooling Around Paraphernalia Emporium." Apollo refuted his statement vehemently. Starbuck... well, Apollo knew that he could take care of himself... maybe. Iblis laughed demonically, he had a flare for it after all. His eyes shone red, as that was all the currency they had left for the special effects after setting up the stygian river on the set, levitating the warriors over it and attaching wings to a horse with digital enhancement, not to mention all the effects they did for Virtual Season 2. Those dinosaurs...gads! An okay, Colonel. 'Murdock, you got any of those..." "Never mind," said Smith, sighing. God, Murdock could be so...nuts at times! "Anyway, where were we?" He rechecked his script. "Oh, right. He's Face, alright." "He sure is!" Amy nodded, staring down into the sea blue eyes that twinkled as he grinned at her. She couldn't resist smiling back as he winked at her. "You are, aren't you?" she whispered. "What?" he asked, shaking his head. She leaned lower. "Are you Face, or not?" He ran a hand through her hair, pulling her to him. "You tell me," he whispered as he slowly and thoroughly kissed her. The Corvette came to a sudden stop, all occupants thrown backwards at the sudden loss of forward momentum. "I need to adjust the brakes, Faceman." BA hollered in way of an apology. "When was the last time you had this baby serviced?" "Serviced? Hey, everything is working just fine at the moment." "Oh Lords!" sighed Chameleon. "Hmm. Lords indeed." Starbove to her, after blasting Red-Eye. How... "Well, you could fight evil with evil. But you would have to get off my back first." Baltar suggested from where he was positioned on the floor on all fours being used as an ottoman. "I would gladly help you ladies." "To what end, Baltar?" Sheba demanded with distaste. She had never bought the story of his mental breakdown and his subsequent decision to return to the fleet and take his chances in tribunal as they assessed his mental stability. She hadn't heard a single "Who are you? Who-oo-who-oo", since she had landed on Cordugo Pit. Then there was the fact that the baseship that he had been on, was in imminent danger of exploding when he had had his mental breakdown. A little too coincidental for the daughter of Cain. "Simply so that I could get up and stretch my back." Baltar groused. "What do you think, Sheba?" Belloby asked, leaning back. "I don't trust him anymore than I do Iblis. No, we have to do yway... "Apollo, my dear boy, you are so far behind you probably think that Sheba, Vela and Siress Belloby are all on your side." He lifted back his head and chortled maniacally. "They are my minions now. Mine! That wasn't even Lieutenant Boomer with you. It was Over-Lieutenant Korax's lesser known shape-shifting brother, Borax. It was so easy to soft-soap him. For the donation of a few slaves and a promise of glory in his present life, he quite eagerly was willing to bring your son to me." "... but... where's Boomer?" Apollo asked hesitantly, as he thought back on Boomer's strange behavior since they had been on the baseship. Almost as if he had some kind of a grudge against Starbuck. If, indeed, Borax was Korax's brother, that would make sense. Iblis smiled slowly and deliberately, his red eyes strobing. "Like a good friend once before him, he stayed on the Galactica to seduce your sister, Athena. You have been betrayed!" "Boomer and Athena?" Apollo mused. "uck murmured against Amy, still holding her close. "I think I like Earth." "Everybody out!" Hannibal called out, climbing out of the sports car to take a look over the airfield. "I ain't flying, Hannibal! Understand? No plane!" BA barked, pulling a syringe surreptitiously from his pocket and moving towards Murdock. This time, BA wins!! "That's okay, BA. We'll just leave you here. After all, we have a spaceman with us. I'm sure he must make up for at least two regular team members." Hannibal grinned around his cigar as Murdock jumped out behind him. "Ah, Colonel, we can't leave Boomer behind," Murdock whined. "I mean, he's so cool, and I don't have his action figure in my collection back at the asylum, yet." "Don't worry, Captain. We don't leave our men behind. You know that. Face?" No response. "FACE!!" Meanwhile, BA stuck it to Murdock. "Ouch!" the pilot cried, before affecting a proper English upper crust accent and adding, "I do believe I'this on our own. There's only one way to beat evil." Sheba told them over a loud crunching sound, and watched as they all gathered round to listen. "Now, here's what we're going to do..." ***** "Hummer, hey!" said Boomer, rushing into Wilker's lab. As expected, he found the lab tech present. As UNexpected, Hummer was reclining in a beach chair, stripped to his shorts, under a sunlamp, with a drink in one hand, watching a video monitor, phones in his ears. Boomer had to repeat himself. At last, he grabbed the drink from his hand, and pulled the phones from the kid's ears. "Hey!" cried Hummer, yanking the phone back. "Gimme my maitai back!" "Your tie? You aren't wearing a tie, Hummer." "No. maitai, you...never mind." He looked at the screen, where an image of a tall man with dark hair, in a strange blue suit, was displayed. "Yeah! Book 'em Dano!" He got up, and threw on a robe. "Whatcha need, Boom-Boom?" Boomer explained, and Hummer nodded. "Hey. like no Holy frack. I thought that was only in Senmut's VS2 stuff!" "Come now, Apollo. You never heard of crossovers?" Never mind that now! You can't believe what he tells you. "Where is my son?" "Bwahahahahaha! You'll have to find a way across the river to find out." Iblis replied, blinking his eyes repeatedly. The strobe light effect was beginning to give him a headache. * * * * * Meanwhile, back on the Galactica: "Lords, I have to get to them and help!" Boomer cried as he watched the events unfold in the vortex from just over Athena's shoulder--her creamy white, soft, seductive right shoulder, with no tan line at all, that had an equally enticing match just across the top of her head. He leaned down and kissed the engaging piece of flesh and soon found a path that led up to her neck... "Uh... Lieutenant... " Adama cleared his throat. Boomer's head snapped back up and he stood at attention. "Yes, sir." "You were going to go helve been sedated." He dropped to the ground. Hannibal returned to the car to see a deep.....uh, passionate embrace between the reporter and Lieutenant that had all the signs of taking their nice family show, with all its machine guns, grenade launchers, and other mayhem, to a late night time slot on pay TV next to Carson. The windows of the Vette began steaming up, and that was with the top down!!!! "Amy! Put him down!" Hannibal hollered. "Can't yet!" she rasped throatily. "Ah, Miss..." Chameleon interjected, slipping the last piece of breadstick into his mouth. "Face, your socks don't match your underwear," Amy murmured euphorically, a silly grin on her features. "Well, we'll have to get rid." Starbuck murmured huskily to Amy, breathing in her perfume. "I thought you had to get rid of..." WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! "Amy? Man, you..." "It's problemo, Dude!" He crossed the lab, and slapped one of the captured Cylons on the shoulder. "Great job, Quipolit. Looks fab. Now, go get the wax off your fingers before the prop department gets all over me. 'k?" "By your command, dude!" drawled the Cylon, and headed for the degreaser. "Waaaahhhh!!!!!!' Thud. Crash. "And don't spill any wax next time," said Hummer. "Doctor Wilker docks me every time that happens. Hummer picked up the strange board the Cylon had been polishing. "By your co...' Thud. "By your co..." Thud "By your co..." Thud. "Hey, let's go, Booms," said Hummer. "Time to rescue folks!" "You're coming with me?" asked Boomer, surprised. "Sure am. C'mon, Dan...Boomer. Let's roll!" "I wonder if I'll ever get rescued?" asked Boxey. "I'm almost out of tokens, Blip." "Don't athk me," said Blip, popping a cold one, and handing Boxey another soda. "I never get to thee the thcrpt rewriteth until the latht moment, kid."p?" Adama reminded him, a highly polished shotgun on the desk before him "Uh... yes, sir. Sorry, sir. I went through a lot of episodes without a romantic interest, if you remember." He took a deep breath. "I need to find a way to ride through the vortex safely. Did anyone see how Sheba did it?" Boomer asked. "No... one micron she was here cursing Apollo, and the next she was gone." Adama stated. "However, now that we know Iblis is involved, I'm sure he was a part of ensuring her safe passage." "Sir, I'm going to go speak to Hummer. He was telling me about a board that his people used to use to ride tumultuous water formations. Perhaps he can adapt his ideas to the vortex." "Good idea, Lieutenant Boomer. Go. And may the Lords of Kobol guide you on your journey." Adama nodded solemnly. "Sir, I'm just going to the electronics department." Boomer reminded him. "Oh? All right then, but hurry." * * * * * "Bells, Vela, did you heaDecker!" BA yelled, suddenly regretting his hasty actions as he nudged Murdock with the toe of his boot. The pilot began to snore where he lay upon the tarmac as a fleet of cars with flashing lights on top began racing towards them at breakneck speed. "That's not Decker!" Hannibal shouted. "It's the Censors!" "Sensors?" Starbuck asked, "what kind of sensors? Cylon?" "The kind that take a nice family show like ours and blast it into TV Oblivion." Murdock sat up for a moment staring into space, "Then next year, they realize that they screwed up big time canceling us, and come out with a show called The B-Team." He dropped back to the ground insensate. "But the only one they can get to come back to the show is Amy." BA grunted. "Or Robert Vaughn," said Murdock, double-checking his meds. "Man, ain't that NBC all over!" "Hey!" Amy sat up sharply in the back of the Vette. "I heard that!" "Ohhhh." Starbuck groaned, "I felt that." She lea "Same here," said Boxey. "Just 'cause I'm a kid." "Yeah, I hear ya, Box. Jutht ain't fair!" Suddenlly, chimes went off, and Blip got up."Lordth, another one? If thethe thingth keep payin' off, I'll be ruined!" He jumped up, and headed for the arcade area. "Here," said a voice. Boxey looked up, and a woman handed him a folder. "What's this?" "The rewrites for the next scene." She patted him on the cheek "So you'll know what to do." "Cool. Thanks." "Okay, dude. Vortex's up!!!!! Like here we go!!!!" shouted Hummer, as they entered the Commander's cabin. The young technician held the bizarre board up, and ran for the copy/fax/scanner/printer/vortex-thingy. Boomer grabbed on, and suddenly from Athena's direction there was this loud ripping noise, and........ "OH NOOOOOOOO!!!" cried Belloby. "OH NOOOOOOOO!!!" cried Sheba. "OH NOOOOOOOO!!!" cried Vela. "Gosh, he's cute," said Libidia. "Can it, Hormoner that?" Sheba asked. "Iblis said we're his minions. Is that true?" "Well, I feel kind of diminutive all of a sudden, but I don't know that they're related." Belloby told her. Vela simply stood by shaking her head in bewilderment. A hush came over the small gathering of women who stared into the Siress' crystal ball. "I can't believe that I was suckered by that... Diablo again!" Sheba raved as she thought back to her insanely jealous behavior. "Girls, we have to do something to help Apollo." "But he is kinda cute," said one of the lustful priestesses from an earlier chapter, there suddenly for dramatic effect. "Bad dancing aside." "Quiet, Libidia!" boomed Belloby. "'k. Geeze..." "Yes, you're right, Sheba. But what?" Vela agreed, guilt suddenly filling her about her accusation of Apollo's paternity regarding her array of children. If he wasn't their father, then who? She remembered him, so clearly, as he'd made wild, passionate lned down a gave him a kiss, "You'll come back and do a cameo role though, won't you, Face? The Return Of Faceman." "I can see it now." Starbuck grinned ruefully. "I'm all alone inside a beachhouse." "The only place you gonna be seein' the inside of is Leavenworth if we don't figure out a way out of here, Face!" said Hannibal. "Leavenworth? Is that good?" Starbuck asked Amy. "All depends if it's Leavenworth, Washington-that cute little Bavarian Style tourist trap-or the Federal Prison in Kansas." Amy replied. "Personally, I'll take the tourist trap. The Hotel Eidelweiss has great German sausage. Say, where's my bra?" "Where's my bra?" said someone. "So which Leavenworth..." "The bad one," mumbled Murdock, from the ground. "Should I ask?" "I think he means the prison, Face." Amy admitted. "Can't we just take the Vette?" "Face, you're just not getting into the spirit of the show. With the Censors on the way, we now must find another Breath!" snarled Belloby. "Heeeeeeeelllpp!" gasped Baltar. * * * * * * "Rwwwwrrrwwwwh!" said Mufit. * * * * * * WHAT is going on now? WHAT evil plans does Iblis have in store for Apollo? CAN the girls help him? WHAT is Hummer doing with that board? WHO was on his video monitor? WHAT about Starbuck, and the other two? WHO is "Muvver"? WHY did Muffit say "Rwwwwrrrwwwwh!"? WILL Boxey have time to learn his new lines? WILL the DNA tests on Vela's kids come back before the next commercial break? WHO is "Dano"? For the answers to these, and a whole bunch of other stuff, well, maybe, tune in to the next umbragiferously irritating episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Be here (aloha), when we'll hear Donald Bellisario say, "Uh oh. We sent the kid the wrong script!" ======= /Jaws Meets/ /McHale's Navy/ will not be seen at this time. In its place, we present the following program, which we have a sinking feeling you probably won't digest. When weove to her, after blasting Red-Eye. How... "Well, you could fight evil with evil. But you would have to get off my back first." Baltar suggested from where he was positioned on the floor on all fours being used as an ottoman. "I would gladly help you ladies." "To what end, Baltar?" Sheba demanded with distaste. She had never bought the story of his mental breakdown and his subsequent decision to return to the fleet and take his chances in tribunal as they assessed his mental stability. She hadn't heard a single "Who are you? Who-oo-who-oo", since she had landed on Cordugo Pit. Then there was the fact that the baseship that he had been on, was in imminent danger of exploding when he had had his mental breakdown. A little too coincidental for the daughter of Cain. "Simply so that I could get up and stretch my back." Baltar groused. "What do you think, Sheba?" Belloby asked, leaning back. "I don't trust him anymore than I do Iblis. No, we have to do last left our heroes, Starbuck and Apollo had been led to the depths of Hades Hole by the diabolical Count Iblis. Starbuck had been assigned to Iblis' fatuous twin brother, Dibley, and his sexy sidekick, Mrs. Peel. Apollo, meanwhile, had been challenged by the Count across a River of the /most /Stygian qualities, excruciatingly aware of the fact that Iblis held Boxey hostage. Meanwhile, while gazing through their respective crystal balls and wormholes, those left aboard the /Galactica/ had just launched their rescue party, consisting of Boomer and Technician Hummer on their sci-fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, uber /he'enalu/ board, as Belloby and her newly(re)formed /Divas-R-Us/, were planning their own rescue mission. So............ Get off your couches, and into your overstuffed, executive-style office chairs! The Starbuck Chronicles are back! Just accept it. /"Arrrrrrrgggggghhhhhhhh!"/ Boomer screamed as he held on tightly to the board. He couldn't see a frack way to escape them. It would be redundant to just climb back into the Vette-not to mention uncomfortable." Hannibal explained impatiently. "Actually, it's not as bad as I first thought." Starbuck grinned up at Amy. "In fact, it was great!" "Starbuck, do an old man a favor, and get off me!" Chameleon murmured from beneath the floor mat. "BA." Hannibal barked. BA returned to the Vette, grabbing hold of Amy and lifting her easily from the sardine can-I mean sports car-and placing her on her feet. He grabbed Starbuck by the tunic and hauled him out behind her, dumping him unceremoniously on the ground beside her. "I can manage, Mr. Baracus." Chameleon told the big man with a weak smile. "Hannibal, what we gonna do, man?" BA asked. Though the cars should have been there by now, the longwinded-ness of the writers had somehow magically delayed their arrival. "Hey, what are those?" Starbuck pointed to the nearest plane. "They have wings; they must fly." His ethis on our own. There's only one way to beat evil." Sheba told them over a loud crunching sound, and watched as they all gathered round to listen. "Now, here's what we're going to do..." ***** "Hummer, hey!" said Boomer, rushing into Wilker's lab. As expected, he found the lab tech present. As UNexpected, Hummer was reclining in a beach chair, stripped to his shorts, under a sunlamp, with a drink in one hand, watching a video monitor, phones in his ears. Boomer had to repeat himself. At last, he grabbed the drink from his hand, and pulled the phones from the kid's ears. "Hey!" cried Hummer, yanking the phone back. "Gimme my maitai back!" "Your tie? You aren't wearing a tie, Hummer." "No. maitai, you...never mind." He looked at the screen, where an image of a tall man with dark hair, in a strange blue suit, was displayed. "Yeah! Book 'em Dano!" He got up, and threw on a robe. "Whatcha need, Boom-Boom?" Boomer explained, and Hummer nodded. "Hey. like no ing thing. All he knew was he seemed to be flying through regions of space and time with some piece of cloth over his eyes and he was missing it all. "Well, she got her Daddy's hov and she cruised to the grilled protein stand, now. Seems she forgot all about the librarium, like she told her old man, now. And with the FBI blasting she goes cruising just as fast as she can, now. Yeah, she'll have fun, fun, fun, till her Daddy takes the Tavian away!" Hummer sang as the stars flew by. "Most excellent, Dude!" He threw back his head, and bellowed: "Oh yeah! She'll have fun, fun, fun, till her..." "What in Hades Hole is that?" bellowed Boomer. "It's music, Dude!" "Oh. I see. Well, shouldn't that be "IFB", rather than "FBI"? "Hhmm....Yeah, ya got a point, dude. I'll have to mull that one a bit. Boy, you sure are foxy, Boom-Boom. 'Oh yeah, she'll have fun, fun, fun, till her daddy takes the Tavian away-y-y-y-yyy!!!!!!!!!!!' So, Dude, whaddya..." THUNK!!!! "What was tyes sparkled as he strode towards the nearest plane, the gangway conveniently lowered for easy access, thanks to one of the previously heretofore above-mentioned writers." "Is he kidding, Hannibal?" BA asked. "He's a pilot, your know." Chameleon added with pride. "I won't even board a plane willingly with Murdock! D'ya think I'm gonna let Face fly me anywhere?" BA snarled. "Stop fooling around, Face. We need a plan." Hannibal groused, following the Lieutenant onto the plane. "Face! Are you listening to me? Face!" "Hey, this looks like something someone put together from mushie boxes," Starbuck muttered as he tucked his tunic back into his pants. He sat down in the pilot's seat of the cockpit. "Lords, I'm actually sitting in a mechanized fossil." "BA, get everyone in!" Hannibal ordered the sergeant as he watched Face start going through the motions of starting the engines. One of them whined, then began to spin. The second prop followed a few moments later.problemo, Dude!" He crossed the lab, and slapped one of the captured Cylons on the shoulder. "Great job, Quipolit. Looks fab. Now, go get the wax off your fingers before the prop department gets all over me. 'k?" "By your command, dude!" drawled the Cylon, and headed for the degreaser. "Waaaahhhh!!!!!!' Thud. Crash. "And don't spill any wax next time," said Hummer. "Doctor Wilker docks me every time that happens. Hummer picked up the strange board the Cylon had been polishing. "By your co...' Thud. "By your co..." Thud "By your co..." Thud. "Hey, let's go, Booms," said Hummer. "Time to rescue folks!" "You're coming with me?" asked Boomer, surprised. "Sure am. C'mon, Dan...Boomer. Let's roll!" "I wonder if I'll ever get rescued?" asked Boxey. "I'm almost out of tokens, Blip." "Don't athk me," said Blip, popping a cold one, and handing Boxey another soda. "I never get to thee the thcrpt rewriteth until the latht moment, kid."hat?" Boomer called out as he loosened his grip on the board to pull... oh, frack! It appeared to be Athena's dress. Hades, he knew that under her dress she had been wearing... Oh, Lords, what would Adama think? * * * * * "You know what I think, Athena?" said Adama. * * * * * "What exactly did Count Iblis want you to do with me?" Starbuck asked Dibley, but his eyes wandered back to Emma... Mrs. Peel. What a vision! How did such a woman of such beauty and elegance end up with Dibley? "Casting." She winked at him. "Did I say that out loud?" Starbuck murmured in wonder. "No. Remember this is Hades Hole, Lieutenant Starbuck. It's a given that every woman here can read your every thought. It's called The Reversion Gibson Effect. There are no secrets in Hades Hole." Mrs. Peel explained. "Can he read my thoughts too?" Starbuck indicated Dibley. "No. Only I can. He, after all, is merely a man. The rule only applies to women." She smiled at him and poured him "When did you learn to fly, Face?" BA shook his head from the passenger area, muttering to himself. "Right. You really think that the Faceman is going to fly this thing out of here. This I have to see!" He giggled as he deposited the fool into a seat and watched Amy help Chameleon belt up. "You're cutting it kind of close, kid," Hannibal muttered around his cigar as the aircraft began shuttling down the runway, a fleet of network Censors snapping at their tails, kept at bay by the previously heretofore above- mentioned writers. "I like it close." "Oh yeahhhhh!" rasped Amy. Starbuck grinned, reaching over and grabbing Hannibal's cigar, and placing it between his teeth. He pulled back on the yoke and the plane was airborne. "Yeeeeeeeeeehawwwww!!!" "Nice, Face.I mean Starbuck." Hannibal chuckled. "This `Area 51' we're looking for.how do I find it. I'm not that familiar with Earth." "Uh." Hannibal glanced at him again. "You're really serious about t "Same here," said Boxey. "Just 'cause I'm a kid." "Yeah, I hear ya, Box. Jutht ain't fair!" Suddenlly, chimes went off, and Blip got up."Lordth, another one? If thethe thingth keep payin' off, I'll be ruined!" He jumped up, and headed for the arcade area. "Here," said a voice. Boxey looked up, and a woman handed him a folder. "What's this?" "The rewrites for the next scene." She patted him on the cheek "So you'll know what to do." "Cool. Thanks." "Okay, dude. Vortex's up!!!!! Like here we go!!!!" shouted Hummer, as they entered the Commander's cabin. The young technician held the bizarre board up, and ran for the copy/fax/scanner/printer/vortex-thingy. Boomer grabbed on, and suddenly from Athena's direction there was this loud ripping noise, and........ "OH NOOOOOOOO!!!" cried Belloby. "OH NOOOOOOOO!!!" cried Sheba. "OH NOOOOOOOO!!!" cried Vela. "Gosh, he's cute," said Libidia. "Can it, Hormonea drink from a large bottle, of some bubbling wine with which he was unfamiliar, pressing it into his unresisting hands. "Merely a man?" Starbuck asked, smelling the sweet liquor. He blinked as his vision blurred slightly. He began to feel very strange... more so than normal... "Did I not make it clear, Lieutenant? YOU ARE IN HADES HOLE!" Emma's elegant features began contorting into a hideous form. Her skin seemed to bubble and shift upon her face, as huge boils formed and rolled across her skull. Her hair began to fall out at the roots and a great horn erupted from the middle of her forehead. Her body kept its shapely form, and an elegant hand, made all the more obscene by the revolting head affixed upon her body, pulled down her zipper. The crests of her shapely breasts peeked out alluringly. A thick, low-toned, echoing voice taunted him, "Do you still want me, Starbuck?" The terrible creature reached out for him... * * * * * Apollo paced along the fiery depths of the rivhis Faceman-I mean spaceman-bit aren't you?" "Yep." "Head for Las Vegas. It's northwest of Vegas." Hannibal told him. "Vegas?" Starbuck asked. "Sin City. It's the largest center of gambling in the United States." Hannibal told him, pulling out a navigational chart with two `x's marked on it. One for Las Vegas, the other for Area 51. "Handy," he grinned at the unlikely coincidence. Starbuck grinned back. "Sounds like fun. Hey, wait a centon. Didn't we forget the Silver Cross?" "Damn!" The Silver Cross. The souped up pram that Starbuck was going to race in the Perambulator 500 once they went through the wormhole. They had left it in the back of the Vette! "Don't worry. We'll get American Courier to send it up. It should arrive." Hannibal glanced at his watch. "Yesterday." "Good service." Starbuck remarked. "Buy American, Buckers. Always." Suddenly, a flashing bright sign caught their attention. AREA 51, this exit. Breath!" snarled Belloby. "Heeeeeeeelllpp!" gasped Baltar. * * * * * * "Rwwwwrrrwwwwh!" said Mufit. * * * * * * WHAT is going on now? WHAT evil plans does Iblis have in store for Apollo? CAN the girls help him? WHAT is Hummer doing with that board? WHO was on his video monitor? WHAT about Starbuck, and the other two? WHO is "Muvver"? WHY did Muffit say "Rwwwwrrrwwwwh!"? WILL Boxey have time to learn his new lines? WILL the DNA tests on Vela's kids come back before the next commercial break? WHO is "Dano"? For the answers to these, and a whole bunch of other stuff, well, maybe, tune in to the next umbragiferously irritating episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Be here (aloha), when we'll hear Donald Bellisario say, "Uh oh. We sent the kid the wrong script!" ======= /Jaws Meets/ /McHale's Navy/ will not be seen at this time. In its place, we present the following program, which we have a sinking feeling you probably won't digest. When we"Wow, great directions. Not to mention short flights. I swear, the flight indicators are so good here you don't even need to know where you're going." Starbuck murmured, highly impressed. "What the hell did you think this was? Canada or something? You're in the good 'ol US of `A' now, kid." Hannibal smiled, grabbing his cigar out of the Lieutenant's mouth. "Take us in for a landing." The plane landed smoothly, and the two men walked back into the cabin where Murdock was sipping on a Shirley Temple, and BA sat catatonic beside him. Amy leaned in front of the big man. "C'mon, BA. Snap out of it!" She slapped him. "She's kind of .physical, isn't she?" Starbuck murmured, a wicked grin on his lips. "Amy?" Hannibal asked. "Put her down, Lieutenant." Starbuck lifted his hands innocently. "I didn't do anything. I'm not even near her!" "Oh, but I know you're planning on it." "I thought you loved it when a plan came together, Hannibal?" Starbuck asked w last left our heroes, Starbuck and Apollo had been led to the depths of Hades Hole by the diabolical Count Iblis. Starbuck had been assigned to Iblis' fatuous twin brother, Dibley, and his sexy sidekick, Mrs. Peel. Apollo, meanwhile, had been challenged by the Count across a River of the /most /Stygian qualities, excruciatingly aware of the fact that Iblis held Boxey hostage. Meanwhile, while gazing through their respective crystal balls and wormholes, those left aboard the /Galactica/ had just launched their rescue party, consisting of Boomer and Technician Hummer on their sci-fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, uber /he'enalu/ board, as Belloby and her newly(re)formed /Divas-R-Us/, were planning their own rescue mission. So............ Get off your couches, and into your overstuffed, executive-style office chairs! The Starbuck Chronicles are back! Just accept it. /"Arrrrrrrgggggghhhhhhhh!"/ Boomer screamed as he held on tightly to the board. He couldn't see a fracker, desperate to find a way across. On the other side, Count Iblis awaited him. Mocking him. Taunting him. "Your son's tokens are running out, Captain." Apollo didn't respond. "What's the matter, Mortal? Run out of plot devices?" Still nothing. "John's pet!!!!" Apollo looked at the Count curiously, wondering if there was some kind of message or riddle hidden in the words. Drawing himself up, he looked at Iblis. "Styx and stones may break my bones," said Apollo, sneering at the Count, "but words can never hurt me!" "Oh Apollo. How could you sink so low?" Eyes glinting evilly, Iblis snapped his fingers. Suddenly, a shadow fell across Apollo, and he looked up. It wasn't Rover, but he did see something hurtling down into the River. The furry, mechanical form hit the middle of the River squarely. Apollo didn't hesitate as he took a running leap. His boot caught the furry... yet shiny... form squarely on the back and he leapt to the other side, his momentum driving the fallryly, winking at Amy. She winked back, incidentally. "Not in this incidence, Lieutenant." He strode towards BA. "Up, BA!" "BA is down. Down went BA. And he won't come back till yesterday." Murdock murmured in sing song. "Uh ." Starbuck began. "Don't ask." Hannibal returned. "Don't ask me how, don't ask me why, I'll tell you now, he hates to fly." Murdock continued. "Is there a way to stop him?" Starbuck asked. "Anti-psychotics usually help." Amy countered. "Actually, he reminds me a bit of a famous Colonial children's story by Dr. Seusson." Starbuck mused, grinning at his childhood memory. "Green Ova and Porcine." Starbuck added. "I do not like green ova and porcine, I do not like them, Sam-I-Horstine." Murdock chanted. "You know it!" Starbuck enthused. "That's great!" "Sam-I-Horstine?" Hannibal asked. BA grabbed Starbuck by the shoulders and jerked him forward until they were nose to nose. "Don't encourage him, Sucka!" ing thing. All he knew was he seemed to be flying through regions of space and time with some piece of cloth over his eyes and he was missing it all. "Well, she got her Daddy's hov and she cruised to the grilled protein stand, now. Seems she forgot all about the librarium, like she told her old man, now. And with the FBI blasting she goes cruising just as fast as she can, now. Yeah, she'll have fun, fun, fun, till her Daddy takes the Tavian away!" Hummer sang as the stars flew by. "Most excellent, Dude!" He threw back his head, and bellowed: "Oh yeah! She'll have fun, fun, fun, till her..." "What in Hades Hole is that?" bellowed Boomer. "It's music, Dude!" "Oh. I see. Well, shouldn't that be "IFB", rather than "FBI"? "Hhmm....Yeah, ya got a point, dude. I'll have to mull that one a bit. Boy, you sure are foxy, Boom-Boom. 'Oh yeah, she'll have fun, fun, fun, till her daddy takes the Tavian away-y-y-y-yyy!!!!!!!!!!!' So, Dude, whaddya..." THUNK!!!! "What was ten object further into the stygian depths. A faint, "Wrrrrrbbbbinnnngggggg," echoed through the cavern. "Muffit?" Apollo muttered quietly, looking back where the form had disappeared beneath the molten flow. Lords. If it had somehow been Muffit... then the daggit may have saved Boxey's life once again. He'd heard his last 'Wrrrrbbbbinnnnngggggg'. A faint grin crossed his features before he turned to face the Count. "Where's my son, Iblis?" * * * * * "Boxey, you need to come with me!" Boxey looked up to see Boomer gazing back at him, only he looked odd. Though he appeared to be Boomer-like in every way from the knees up, he had two large bleach bottles, their capacity at least four litrons, which he was wearing as combat boots. "Want to play Compartment Billyarks with me, Boomer? I'm pretty good." Boxey asked from where he was standing above the game. Behind him, Blip was counting game tokens. "No, kid. We gotta go now. Someone's expecting us." Borax, Korax's "Let me go, or I'll take the Silver Cross and stuff it up your nose." Starbuck returned. "You do and I'll have your baby!" purred Amy. BA studied him for a moment, a memory of the smaller man coldcocking him back in the apartment flooding back to him, and then BA let him go. "I don't get it Hannibal. He looks just like Face, he acts a lot like Face, but Face would never take me on." "You're saying he's not as smart as Face?" Hannibal asked, shaking his head at the conman or spaceman, he still wasn't really sure which. Best damn scam that Face ever came up with if it is a scam. Too bad it's us he's scamming. "Maybe." BA replied quietly, but generally he had the feeling that even though he probably had a good 70 or 80 pounds on the blond Lieutenant, that Starbuck would indeed try to stuff the souped up pram up his nose. "Come on, let's move out. If there really is a wormhole here, it might take a while to find it." Hannibal told them. "Uh..." Starbuck hat?" Boomer called out as he loosened his grip on the board to pull... oh, frack! It appeared to be Athena's dress. Hades, he knew that under her dress she had been wearing... Oh, Lords, what would Adama think? * * * * * "You know what I think, Athena?" said Adama. * * * * * "What exactly did Count Iblis want you to do with me?" Starbuck asked Dibley, but his eyes wandered back to Emma... Mrs. Peel. What a vision! How did such a woman of such beauty and elegance end up with Dibley? "Casting." She winked at him. "Did I say that out loud?" Starbuck murmured in wonder. "No. Remember this is Hades Hole, Lieutenant Starbuck. It's a given that every woman here can read your every thought. It's called The Reversion Gibson Effect. There are no secrets in Hades Hole." Mrs. Peel explained. "Can he read my thoughts too?" Starbuck indicated Dibley. "No. Only I can. He, after all, is merely a man. The rule only applies to women." She smiled at him and poured him younger twin brother, replied. He looked down at his boots, realizing he didn't have this shape-shifting thing down quite yet. Maybe that was why Senmut turned him down for the part of shape-shifter in the Virtual Season Episodes*. He just didn't have the right jugs for the job. "If you come with me now, I'll give you a little something to make it worth your while." He knew Count Iblis was waiting for the bait to dangle in front of the Captain. "A mushy." Boxey replied as he looked around in confusion. The words seemed familiar... but the set was all wrong. "Yeah, Boxey." Borax replied in Boomer's voice. "How could you know that? I was keeping it a secret." "You can't with Muffey around." Boxey looked around, suddenly disoriented. Muffey was nowhere to be seen. "I trained him to sniff out mushies." Suddenly, a loud noise was heard from the other room and Boxey twisted to see Blip on the floor, a large video game machine knocked over on top of him, and two men propelled throua drink from a large bottle, of some bubbling wine with which he was unfamiliar, pressing it into his unresisting hands. "Merely a man?" Starbuck asked, smelling the sweet liquor. He blinked as his vision blurred slightly. He began to feel very strange... more so than normal... "Did I not make it clear, Lieutenant? YOU ARE IN HADES HOLE!" Emma's elegant features began contorting into a hideous form. Her skin seemed to bubble and shift upon her face, as huge boils formed and rolled across her skull. Her hair began to fall out at the roots and a great horn erupted from the middle of her forehead. Her body kept its shapely form, and an elegant hand, made all the more obscene by the revolting head affixed upon her body, pulled down her zipper. The crests of her shapely breasts peeked out alluringly. A thick, low-toned, echoing voice taunted him, "Do you still want me, Starbuck?" The terrible creature reached out for him... * * * * * Apollo paced along the fiery depths of the rivpointed to the neon sign about a hundred metrons away that said, Wormhole, this way. "He's good, Hannibal. We should put him on point." BA muttered. "Faceman's good, Faceman's smart, Amy wants him in the dark." "Put her down, Lieutenant!" Hannibal snapped, alerted to the start of another heated embrace behind the American Courier van that had just pulled up to deliver the Silver Cross. "Hey, you're late. This should have been here yesterday." Hannibal told the driver. So call FedEx next time. The vertically challenged courier driver held up his sign. "Hey, didn't we leave you in the garage in LA?" Hannibal asked. Overlooked again. The story of my life. Hey, I needed a gig that actually pays something. He pushed the souped up pram out of the van, climbed back in the driver's seat, handed Murdock the last slice of pizza, and took off. "I think we've almost satisfied all the dangling plot points." Hannibal murmured.. "Wormhole." BA reminded him.gh the room on a large hoverboard of some kind. One of them looked a lot like Boomer, except his face was half covered with a sheer piece of cloth... and he was wearing regulation Colonial combat boots. The other man was singing, "Oh, I wish they all could be Sagittarian, I wish they all could be Sagittarian, I wish they all could be Sagittarian Girls!" Borax crossed the room, and slammed the hatch shut, sealing it tight. He pulled out a fuser and began to weld the hatch shut. No one would get in now. Bwahahahahaha! "Why did they close the doors?" Boxey asked, wide-eyed and bewildered as he looked around to find himself alone with Boomer and his bleach bottles. "I'm not afraid, my Dad'll protect us from those old... Cylons." His eyes filled with tears as Borax approached him slowly. "Oh, oh. We sent the kid the wrong script!" Donald Bellisario groaned as he tipped his scotch glass up to his lips. /I told you,/ said the card the Butler Guy handed him. "Oh, go wash a goler, desperate to find a way across. On the other side, Count Iblis awaited him. Mocking him. Taunting him. "Your son's tokens are running out, Captain." Apollo didn't respond. "What's the matter, Mortal? Run out of plot devices?" Still nothing. "John's pet!!!!" Apollo looked at the Count curiously, wondering if there was some kind of message or riddle hidden in the words. Drawing himself up, he looked at Iblis. "Styx and stones may break my bones," said Apollo, sneering at the Count, "but words can never hurt me!" "Oh Apollo. How could you sink so low?" Eyes glinting evilly, Iblis snapped his fingers. Suddenly, a shadow fell across Apollo, and he looked up. It wasn't Rover, but he did see something hurtling down into the River. The furry, mechanical form hit the middle of the River squarely. Apollo didn't hesitate as he took a running leap. His boot caught the furry... yet shiny... form squarely on the back and he leapt to the other side, his momentum driving the fall "Right." They advanced on the double doors cautiously. They must have stood at least three stories high-Green Ova and Porcine, How The Grinchon Stole Natal Day, Korax the Lorax-and the way seemed unsurpassable. Thank goodness the doors were wide open. "How we going to squeeze through those tiny doors, Hannibal?" BA asked. "It's like trying to go through a rabbit hole into Wonderland." "Could we try and rip off one story at a time, BA." Hannibal asked. "Sorry, Colonel." "Alright, Sergeant. Face, into the rabbit hole. I mean, under the doors." Hannibal ordered him. "Starbuck," the Warrior reminded them. "Right. Do you have any sma...wormhole experience, Lieutenant?" Hannibal asked. "Yeah, a while back it seemed someone was popping through a wormhole at least every other chronicle. Then there was Hummer's vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el- mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside. Can't ff ball!" snarled Bellisario. /Grouch!/ "Wrong script?" said Ronald Moore. "I never imagined that." * * * * * "Shh!" the young diva/ former priestess whispered as the five women crept through the tunnels. "Why?" Sheba asked. "Did you hear something?" "Hey, that's the only line they've given me, and I'm going to milk it for all it's worth." she replied, wishing the writers would give her a name. "Get back in line." Belloby griped to her. "I'm the illustrious leader of Diva's-R-Us, so I'll lead." "Fine with me," the youngster replied, brushing her glossy hair back off her face. She looked over her shoulder at Vela, who was munching on a mint. "Where are we going?" "We have to find Boxey. If we find the kid, then it frees up Apollo to go head to head with Dibley... I mean Iblis," Vela explained. "It's his only chance at a fair fight." "What about Starbuck?" the youngster asked with a leer. "After all, he's pretty cute, and I like the wayen object further into the stygian depths. A faint, "Wrrrrrbbbbinnnngggggg," echoed through the cavern. "Muffit?" Apollo muttered quietly, looking back where the form had disappeared beneath the molten flow. Lords. If it had somehow been Muffit... then the daggit may have saved Boxey's life once again. He'd heard his last 'Wrrrrbbbbinnnnngggggg'. A faint grin crossed his features before he turned to face the Count. "Where's my son, Iblis?" * * * * * "Boxey, you need to come with me!" Boxey looked up to see Boomer gazing back at him, only he looked odd. Though he appeared to be Boomer-like in every way from the knees up, he had two large bleach bottles, their capacity at least four litrons, which he was wearing as combat boots. "Want to play Compartment Billyarks with me, Boomer? I'm pretty good." Boxey asked from where he was standing above the game. Behind him, Blip was counting game tokens. "No, kid. We gotta go now. Someone's expecting us." Borax, Korax's orget that." Starbuck replied. "Not with the writers bringing it up every five episodes without fail." Chameleon added. "If I can enter the wormhole with the Silver Cross, I should make it to the Perambulator 500 in milli-centons." Starbuck told them, easily sliding his body beneath the doors. Let's go." "Check the perimeter first, Lieutenant." Hannibal barked, leaning down and peering into the darkness. "Face?" "Holy frack, what in Hades Hole was that?" Starbuck's voice cried out. "What do you see, Lieutenant?" "That's just it, I can't see a thing! Do you have an illuminator, Hannibal?" "A what?" "A light?" Starbuck replied "Does a zippo count?" Hannibal asked, passing his lighter through the tiny doors. "Perhaps the question should be, how high can a zippo count?" Murdock inserted. "Or at least I think that's what the Count said." "Stark raving mad." Chameleon nudged Amy. "What do you see, Starbuck?" "Uh... something's m he dances. "After all, we haven't seen him dance for a few eps." "He was hanging out with that tramp, Peel, when last we looked into the crystal ball. I think he's fine." Sheba snapped. Starbuck could take care of himself. As usual, he was with a beautiful woman while the Captain was locked in a battle of good and evil with Count Iblis. Yeah, Starbuck was the least of their worries. * * * * * "No, Father," replied Athena. "What do you think?" * * * * * WHAT will the hideously mutated Mrs. Peel do to Starbuck? HOW will the confrontation between Apollo and Iblis end? WILL the young priestess get a name? (I vote for Myrtle.) WILL Boomer and Hummer get through the sealed door in time? HOW will Muffit survive the flaming river? (/I/ vote he doesn't.) IS Apollo REALLY John's pet? WHAT was Adama thinking? WILL Boxey ever get the right script? For the answers to these, and maybe a few other questions we might think of in the meantime, be sure to catch younger twin brother, replied. He looked down at his boots, realizing he didn't have this shape-shifting thing down quite yet. Maybe that was why Senmut turned him down for the part of shape-shifter in the Virtual Season Episodes*. He just didn't have the right jugs for the job. "If you come with me now, I'll give you a little something to make it worth your while." He knew Count Iblis was waiting for the bait to dangle in front of the Captain. "A mushy." Boxey replied as he looked around in confusion. The words seemed familiar... but the set was all wrong. "Yeah, Boxey." Borax replied in Boomer's voice. "How could you know that? I was keeping it a secret." "You can't with Muffey around." Boxey looked around, suddenly disoriented. Muffey was nowhere to be seen. "I trained him to sniff out mushies." Suddenly, a loud noise was heard from the other room and Boxey twisted to see Blip on the floor, a large video game machine knocked over on top of him, and two men propelled throuoving in here, but I can't quite make it out. Lords, what the frack...!! Aarrgghh!" "We're coming in, Lieutenant!" Hannibal hollered, getting down on his knees and getting ready to crawl through the tiny doors. "I'm getting too damn old for this crap. Let's go everyone." "Hurry, Hannibal!" Starbuck yelled suddenly. "C'mon, BA." Hannibal yelled. "Hold it, Colonel. I have some jacks, a few pebbles, a toilet paper roll, and a Frisbee. I'm just going to make us a spotlight so we can see what's going on. But I'm going to need your help." BA told him. "BA, I have some lint, a baseball card, a sock puppet, the Guiness Book of World Records, an elastic band, a red button, and an old grenade. Do you think we could build something to rip a bigger hole in these doors so we can get the Silver Cross into the passageway?" Murdock asked. "No problem, Murdock," said MacGyver. "I don't think we'll need the grenade though. I'm thoroughly opposed to violence, you know." the next indubitably offaliferous episode of /The Starbuck Chronicles./ Tune in, when we'll hear Blip say, ""WILL SOMEONE GET THIS MACHINE OFF OF ME????????!!?!?!?!?!?!?!" * Hey, the Ziklagi FanFicList Actor's Guild refused a loan-out. What could I do? (Tell it to Borax, Pal.) ======= Sesame Street Goes To Seed will not be seen at this time. In its place we present the following run-down program. When last we left our heroes, heroines, villains, golf caddies and such, Starbuck was confronted by a hideously mutated creature that had moments before been a beautiful woman, Apollo was confronting the evil Count Iblis in an attempt to find the missing Boxey, Muffit may have sacrificed himself yet again for his young charge, I'm not sure what Dibley, Iblis' ne'er-do-well brother was doing, Boomer and Hummer were hurtling towards a sealed hatch on a magic floating board, a piece of Athena's unmentionables draped over Boom-Boom's face, Siress Belloby and the newly gh the room on a large hoverboard of some kind. One of them looked a lot like Boomer, except his face was half covered with a sheer piece of cloth... and he was wearing regulation Colonial combat boots. The other man was singing, "Oh, I wish they all could be Sagittarian, I wish they all could be Sagittarian, I wish they all could be Sagittarian Girls!" Borax crossed the room, and slammed the hatch shut, sealing it tight. He pulled out a fuser and began to weld the hatch shut. No one would get in now. Bwahahahahaha! "Why did they close the doors?" Boxey asked, wide-eyed and bewildered as he looked around to find himself alone with Boomer and his bleach bottles. "I'm not afraid, my Dad'll protect us from those old... Cylons." His eyes filled with tears as Borax approached him slowly. "Oh, oh. We sent the kid the wrong script!" Donald Bellisario groaned as he tipped his scotch glass up to his lips. /I told you,/ said the card the Butler Guy handed him. "Oh, go wash a gol "Ah, Rick? What are you doing in this show?" "Well, George, the producer handed me a script..." "Producer?" "Uh huh. Said he needed a guest star. I mean, hey. Ten bucks is ten bucks." "Producer? Bulbous transparent head, sighs a lot, hates Baltar?" "Yeah. You know him?" "Yeah. Ron Moore. Been drinking again, I'll bet. No, your show is over on Stage 347." "Ooops. Sorry, George." "No problem, Rick. Drinks after work?" "Oh yeah." (Insert theme music and a good minute of BA, Hannibal and Murdock building the spotlight and elastic band explosive while Chameleon and Amy waltz in the background.) "I said, Aarrgghh!!" Starbuck reminded them vociferously from within the dark, double doors. "Leto!" a mysterious voice shouted. "We're coming, kid!" Hannibal yelled. "Ready, BA?" "Ready, Hannibal." BA shouted, standing behind the fire wall and pressing a red button. A huge explosion ripped a massive hole into the wall, op reconstipated Divas-R-Us were closing in on...something, a huge video game machine had fallen on Blip, Boxey was stuck with the imposter-Boomer, with both the wrong script and very odd footwear, we were left wondering what Adama was thinking, and, oh yes, Ronald D. Moore was having trouble imagining any of it. All caught up now? Well, tough! ======= "I don't know, Apollo," replied Iblis. "Honestly. I have no idea where your son is right now." "And why on Earth would I..." "Caprica. It's 'why on Caprica'." "Oh, right. Uhh...why on Caprica should I believe anything you tell me? You've lied, cheated, stolen, deceived, brainwashed, corrupted and murdered non-stop from the moment we first encountered you, Iblis." "Hey, it's my job. Basically, I just around stay for the benefits and pension plan." "WHERE IS BOXEY????????????????" "Honestly, Apollo, I don't know!" "And why not?!??!!?" shouted Apollo heatedly. "Because they gaf ball!" snarled Bellisario. /Grouch!/ "Wrong script?" said Ronald Moore. "I never imagined that." * * * * * "Shh!" the young diva/ former priestess whispered as the five women crept through the tunnels. "Why?" Sheba asked. "Did you hear something?" "Hey, that's the only line they've given me, and I'm going to milk it for all it's worth." she replied, wishing the writers would give her a name. "Get back in line." Belloby griped to her. "I'm the illustrious leader of Diva's-R-Us, so I'll lead." "Fine with me," the youngster replied, brushing her glossy hair back off her face. She looked over her shoulder at Vela, who was munching on a mint. "Where are we going?" "We have to find Boxey. If we find the kid, then it frees up Apollo to go head to head with Dibley... I mean Iblis," Vela explained. "It's his only chance at a fair fight." "What about Starbuck?" the youngster asked with a leer. "After all, he's pretty cute, and I like the wayening up a space more than adequate for accommodating the Silver Cross. "Nice, BA." Hannibal grinned. "Thanks, Hannibal," BA nodded, activating the spotlight only to reveal... "Holy Hanoi!" yelled Murdock. Within the previously secured room was a Dirk Pitt-Lords, where did that come from??-I mean, a titanic dirt pit holding an immense Sandworm about the length of a blue whale, its mouth gaping open as it nosed its way around the pit, its head moving from side to side, looking for its prey. "This isn't quite the wormhole we had in mind, is it?" Hannibal muttered as he watched the Lieutenant, who had obviously fallen in the pit, scramble to stay ahead of the writhing beast. "I'm NOT going through that wormhole!" Starbuck yelled, the fetid smell of the worm right behind him. "Ain't no way I'm Dune it!" "Where's your sense of adventure, Starbuck?" Murdock asked. "Let's just say that when I pop out the other side of that wormhole, I'm going to find myseve me the wrong script, too." "Oh, man!" He took the proffered document, and opened it up. "Who's 'Mother'?" * * * * * * "I think, " said Adama as he tried to avert his eyes from Athena's chest, "that Boomer should not have gone off with Hummer like that. We have no idea what traversing that vortex in reverse could do to them." "Ah ha!" said Igraine, hands on hips. "Still plotting. I see now where Apollo gets it!" "Excuse me?" Adama shook his head in dismay, drawn to the lyrics tattooed across the swell of his daughter's perky- loos. Boom boom boom, let's go back to my room... He turned away, despite the morbid fascination. "Trying to evade responsibility again! Yes, yes, I see it." She turned to stare at Athena. "Nice boob job. I always liked that tune." Then she looked back up at her Auntie's face. "I'm going to see Sire Solon. Man, but am I gonna sue!" "For what?" asked Athena. "Child support? Oh, and they're mine." She covered her bosom with he dances. "After all, we haven't seen him dance for a few eps." "He was hanging out with that tramp, Peel, when last we looked into the crystal ball. I think he's fine." Sheba snapped. Starbuck could take care of himself. As usual, he was with a beautiful woman while the Captain was locked in a battle of good and evil with Count Iblis. Yeah, Starbuck was the least of their worries. * * * * * "No, Father," replied Athena. "What do you think?" * * * * * WHAT will the hideously mutated Mrs. Peel do to Starbuck? HOW will the confrontation between Apollo and Iblis end? WILL the young priestess get a name? (I vote for Myrtle.) WILL Boomer and Hummer get through the sealed door in time? HOW will Muffit survive the flaming river? (/I/ vote he doesn't.) IS Apollo REALLY John's pet? WHAT was Adama thinking? WILL Boxey ever get the right script? For the answers to these, and maybe a few other questions we might think of in the meantime, be sure to catch the large handkerchief her father had been mopping his brow with, folding it once, twice, and thrice and fashioning it into an attractive halter-top. "More lines!" * * * * * * "WILL THOMEONE GET THITH MATHINE OFF OF ME??????!?!?!?!??!!" bellowed Blip. It wasn't just that the machine was heavy. It was. It wasn't just that it was sharp and imbalanced, and stuck into his gut pretty bad. It did. It was primarily because it was suddenly paying off, and if he didn't get control of it, and soon, the till wouldn't balance that evening. Which it didn't. Oh, that and the singed mechanical daggit licking him in the face. With his tongue shorting out. "Pleathe?" * * * * * * "STOP!!!! STOP YOU MANIAC!!!!!!!!!!!!" Boomer screamed, as Hummer tried to do just that. They were sailing towards a once-open, and now closed door, and it was at this point that Hummer had discovered one slight, ever-so-easy to overlook teeny-weeny itlf in deep mong." Starbuck yelled back. ******* "Someone's gonna be in deep mong if we don't get back in the show!" growled Igraine, somewhere off-screen. "Right, Mom?" "Yeah!" "Boxey, got any more mushies?" ******************* HOW will the team save Starbuck? IS there another door with another wormhole? HOW did the Butler Guy get there so fast? WHERE does he get all those cards printed? WHAT is the giant, ugly, hideous worm they have just found? WHO shouted "Leto"? FOR that matter, who is Leto? WILL the censors find them? WHO wrote Imperious Leader's material? (Not me! No way, folks! Uh-uhh!) DOES the Butler Guy have any more pizza? DOES Boxey have any more mushies? WILL Amy really have Starbuck's baby? For the answers to these, and other pertinaciously obfuscated questions, be sure and catch the next obsequiously recalcitrant episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear The Padishah Emperor, Shaddam IV say, "Bring in that floating fat man. Sthe next indubitably offaliferous episode of /The Starbuck Chronicles./ Tune in, when we'll hear Blip say, ""WILL SOMEONE GET THIS MACHINE OFF OF ME????????!!?!?!?!?!?!?!" * Hey, the Ziklagi FanFicList Actor's Guild refused a loan-out. What could I do? (Tell it to Borax, Pal.) ======= Sesame Street Goes To Seed will not be seen at this time. In its place we present the following run-down program. When last we left our heroes, heroines, villains, golf caddies and such, Starbuck was confronted by a hideously mutated creature that had moments before been a beautiful woman, Apollo was confronting the evil Count Iblis in an attempt to find the missing Boxey, Muffit may have sacrificed himself yet again for his young charge, I'm not sure what Dibley, Iblis' ne'er-do-well brother was doing, Boomer and Hummer were hurtling towards a sealed hatch on a magic floating board, a piece of Athena's unmentionables draped over Boom-Boom's face, Siress Belloby and the newly sy-bitsy little oversight in the design of his vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside. Something just about anyone might have overlooked. Really. Brakes. CARSHSMASHCRUNCHWHOPPPPSCREEEEEEEEEEECHHHKABLOWWIE!!! "Boomer?" wheezed Hummer. "Yeah?" "I just discovered something about this door." "Uhhh?" "It's hard!" "No mong..." CLANG!!!!!!!!!! "...mega brain!" Thud. "The ocean was like so much softer, Dude." Groan. * * * * * * "We still have the power you know." The young priestess suddenly whispered to the others. "What power? What are you talking about? And what the frack is your name?" Sheba asked her, suddenly aware that no one knew the young troublemaker's name. For someone with so many lines, surely she should have one. "Myrt the flirt. The power to make Starbuck dance. Apollo too for that matter. Tire Uri!" Or, depending upon which rewrites get delivered first, you might hear Siress Belloby scree...uh, say, "When do my priestesses and I get some more screen time? I'm paying for these re-writes you know!" With apologies to Dr. Seusson. ======= "The XFiles get rated 'R' " will not be seen at this time. In it's place we present something that should have been filed somewhere else. The Starbuck Chronicles Part Eighty-One By Lisa, w/Senmut The new act wasn't exactly anything to comm home about, Apollo mused, as he checked his chrono and order another double... whatever it was. However, the Lost Souls Bar, Grill, and Exotic Booze Emporium wasn't exactly known for its stellar performances on Amateur Night. He gave half a thought to getting up there himself and singing a tune. The other half was too toasted to bother. He couldn't be any worse than this guy. He was middle-aged and slightly portly, which was better than starboard-ly, the Captain chuckled to hims reconstipated Divas-R-Us were closing in on...something, a huge video game machine had fallen on Blip, Boxey was stuck with the imposter-Boomer, with both the wrong script and very odd footwear, we were left wondering what Adama was thinking, and, oh yes, Ronald D. Moore was having trouble imagining any of it. All caught up now? Well, tough! ======= "I don't know, Apollo," replied Iblis. "Honestly. I have no idea where your son is right now." "And why on Earth would I..." "Caprica. It's 'why on Caprica'." "Oh, right. Uhh...why on Caprica should I believe anything you tell me? You've lied, cheated, stolen, deceived, brainwashed, corrupted and murdered non-stop from the moment we first encountered you, Iblis." "Hey, it's my job. Basically, I just around stay for the benefits and pension plan." "WHERE IS BOXEY????????????????" "Honestly, Apollo, I don't know!" "And why not?!??!!?" shouted Apollo heatedly. "Because they gahey both still have the cranial implants insitu." "Don't you think we have more important things to do than watch Starbuck dance?" Vela asked. Not that she wouldn't mind him circling a dance floor again, and peeling off a couple layers of clothes. Oh, the good old Chrons! "Uh, well... not really. We can't figure out a way to get into that locked room and save Boxey, Apollo is still reading over the Prisoner's script, and Starbuck... well, we don't really know what he's up to, but I don't like the idea of that Upper Class Colonial Standardish broad eying him up. He's mine you know." She smiled pleasantly, though her eyeballs seemed to roll in a complete revolution before settling back in place with a slight shake, as though they belonged in a slot machine in Blip's arcade. "She has a point." Siress Belloby added. "Let's take a looksee, and see what kind of range we can get with this baby." She pulled her crystal ball and the remote mind control out of her purse. She peereelf as he tipped the barman and swallowed down a full third of his bottle of ale. The barman got up, cleaned off the broken glass and spilled booze, snarled at Apollo, but did nothing. The Captain looked at the label. Seemed to be one of those Empyrean brews that had been infiltrating the Fleet for the last eighteen sectars, ever since they had uncovered the Zaza labels, several alternate universes back, in another storyline. He swallowed it down and ordered some grog for a chaser. Right, the new act... Yeah, the guy was kinda blurry around the edges now that Apollo really took a good look at him. His hair was dark, with a bit of grey at the temples, and he wore a dark green tunic and pants that kind of reminded him of something Baltar might wear. Wait a centon! The man droned on, telling the story of some General McArthuron. Apollo had to admit he had a good speaking voice, but the subject matter was hardly captivating because the little green man-uh, the man wearing the gve me the wrong script, too." "Oh, man!" He took the proffered document, and opened it up. "Who's 'Mother'?" * * * * * * "I think, " said Adama as he tried to avert his eyes from Athena's chest, "that Boomer should not have gone off with Hummer like that. We have no idea what traversing that vortex in reverse could do to them." "Ah ha!" said Igraine, hands on hips. "Still plotting. I see now where Apollo gets it!" "Excuse me?" Adama shook his head in dismay, drawn to the lyrics tattooed across the swell of his daughter's perky- loos. Boom boom boom, let's go back to my room... He turned away, despite the morbid fascination. "Trying to evade responsibility again! Yes, yes, I see it." She turned to stare at Athena. "Nice boob job. I always liked that tune." Then she looked back up at her Auntie's face. "I'm going to see Sire Solon. Man, but am I gonna sue!" "For what?" asked Athena. "Child support? Oh, and they're mine." She covered her bosom with d into the crystal ball, only to see that things had changed drastically in the world of Starbuck... * * * * * * "Aaarrrrggghhh!" Starbuck screamed as the hideous mutant that had been the luscious Mrs. Peel approached him, arms reaching out for him. He stumbled backwards, his body moving slowly and woodenly. What was wrong with him? He threw the glass of bubbling wine to the ground, breaking it into thousands of shards. It must be something in the alcohol. They had drugged him. There was no way in Hades... oh, bad choice of words, Bucko... there was no possible way that the gorgeous woman who had stood before him only moments before could have changed into this vile, despicable, grotesque... creature! "Come here, lover," the horrible creature purred to him. "I'm feeling kinda... horny." "Lords of Kobol, but you make Korax look cute!' rasped Starbuck. "Hey, watch it!" came a voice from off-camera. "Two-eyes!" Starbuck shook his head in horror as the Preen outfit- was slurring his words. He kind of sounded like Baltar... "Another drink, mate?" "Yeah. One of those Emperor Ales." "Emperor?" "Yeah." "He's up next." "Who?" Apollo asked, his brows furrowed. "The Emperor." "What Emperor?' "The Padishah Emperor, Shaddam IV." "Padishah Emp'ror?" asked Apollo. "What's he doin?" "Exactly." "Oh." "So... what do you want to drink?" Apollo paused, thinking far too hard about it as he glanced at the stage. The little green man wasn't making much sense at all anymore. He shrugged. "Grog." A tankard was pushed in front of him. He took a long sip, and rested his heavy head on the crook of his arm. Yeah, the guy on stage kind of did look like Baltar, except Baltar was... on Cordugo Pit. Probably still in Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel and Fooling Around Paraphernalia Emporium. He closed his heavy eyes deciding that the guy was far too blurry to be Baltar anyhow. However, the large handkerchief her father had been mopping his brow with, folding it once, twice, and thrice and fashioning it into an attractive halter-top. "More lines!" * * * * * * "WILL THOMEONE GET THITH MATHINE OFF OF ME??????!?!?!?!??!!" bellowed Blip. It wasn't just that the machine was heavy. It was. It wasn't just that it was sharp and imbalanced, and stuck into his gut pretty bad. It did. It was primarily because it was suddenly paying off, and if he didn't get control of it, and soon, the till wouldn't balance that evening. Which it didn't. Oh, that and the singed mechanical daggit licking him in the face. With his tongue shorting out. "Pleathe?" * * * * * * "STOP!!!! STOP YOU MANIAC!!!!!!!!!!!!" Boomer screamed, as Hummer tried to do just that. They were sailing towards a once-open, and now closed door, and it was at this point that Hummer had discovered one slight, ever-so-easy to overlook teeny-weeny iteel- creature moved closer to him. He tripped over his feet, falling backwards onto the ground. His eyes were drawn to the horrible horn sticking out of its forehead. It could gouge a warrior to death! "Well, then, I'll come to you." The creature whispered sensuously as Mrs. Peel's body, beneath the horrific head, strutted towards him, her body oozing sexuality. Starbuck tried to say something, but he had no control of his body. He tried to scramble backwards, but instead he lay there like a sacrificial bovine. No matter how hard he tried to move his frozen muscles, they seemed paralyzed by the drug. Lords, he couldn't even close his eyes! Dibley laughed as he watched. "Yer truly helpless, lad. `Fraid she can do what she wants wi' ya, mate. It's the drink, ya see. Controls yer mind. Muvver always warned me not to take too much of the drink." Starbuck watched in utter revulsion as the creature straddled his body. She leaned down over him and licked him up the sthat voice... that couldn't- be-Baltar-like voice... seemed to have a tranquility that was drawing him downward. Downward to a blissful, calm, peaceful, relaxing, untroubled, quiet, untroubled, restful, nirvanaesque, untroubled, really not bad, lulling insensateness that would be so refreshing after eighty episodes without sleep and several alcoholic beverages. Smack! "You can't sleep in here, mate. Not unless it's part of your act." "Huh?" Apollo asked. He glanced on stage to see the little green man was gone and another had replaced him. "Who's that?" "I already told ya, The Padishah Emperor, Shaddam IV." "What's his act?" The barman simply pointed at the Padishah Emperor, who was pointing at the audience and calling out, "Bring in that floating fat man. Sire Uri!" "Leto!" the mysterious voice called out again, making the very air rumble. "Who said that?" Hannibal asked, looking around the Dirk....uh, dirt pit that some-say-Starbuck, some-sasy-bitsy little oversight in the design of his vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside. Something just about anyone might have overlooked. Really. Brakes. CARSHSMASHCRUNCHWHOPPPPSCREEEEEEEEEEECHHHKABLOWWIE!!! "Boomer?" wheezed Hummer. "Yeah?" "I just discovered something about this door." "Uhhh?" "It's hard!" "No mong..." CLANG!!!!!!!!!! "...mega brain!" Thud. "The ocean was like so much softer, Dude." Groan. * * * * * * "We still have the power you know." The young priestess suddenly whispered to the others. "What power? What are you talking about? And what the frack is your name?" Sheba asked her, suddenly aware that no one knew the young troublemaker's name. For someone with so many lines, surely she should have one. "Myrt the flirt. The power to make Starbuck dance. Apollo too for that matter. Tide of his face, pausing a moment to stick her tongue in his ear and thoroughly clean out his earwax, previously mentioned in Chronicle 31. Lords, he was about to be... The bizarre nature of the situation was almost too much to bear! His body twitched suddenly. All of it, you understand. Abruptly, he needed to dance!! * * * * * * "Aren't you done yet?" Iblis asked, as he stood arms akimbo watching Apollo read the script. "I think I met Rover." Apollo noted, flipping through the pages. "But why are Rover and Mother in the same script? Is this some kind of crossover..." "Of course, you did." Iblis commented. "And never mind about the other. We'll leave the crossover where it was intended to be. Women's lingerie." "Ohhh, is Sheba here?" "I see you've been hanging around Starbuck too long." "I'll have you know, Starbuck isn't the only one sexy enough to persue an energetic love life. I'm thinking about redefining my character. Captain Apollo, lay-Face was doing laps around as the gigantic sandworm chased him. "Hey, he's fast, Hannibal. He might not need the Silver Cross to win the Perambulator 500." BA mused, stroking his beard, but realizing in the same breath that to enter the Perambulator 500 to win the grand prize and repay the Team's retirement fund, that Face/Starbuck needed to have a pram. "Look, there's another guy down in the pit with Starbuck." Murdock pointed out. Sure enough, another man was in the pit screaming "Leto" at the sandworm. "Hannibal!" Starbuck called, his heart pumping like an ion propulsion system as he could feel the hot air of the worm's breath surrounding him. Oh, so maybe ion propulsion systems don't pump, but I'll come up with a better fracking simile when a giant worm isn't trying to turn me into a mushie! "I could use some help down here!" "Och, Starbuck, laddie?" said a voice. Starbuck turned, and saw a man in a red shirt, with a funny emblem on the chest, suddenly there hey both still have the cranial implants insitu." "Don't you think we have more important things to do than watch Starbuck dance?" Vela asked. Not that she wouldn't mind him circling a dance floor again, and peeling off a couple layers of clothes. Oh, the good old Chrons! "Uh, well... not really. We can't figure out a way to get into that locked room and save Boxey, Apollo is still reading over the Prisoner's script, and Starbuck... well, we don't really know what he's up to, but I don't like the idea of that Upper Class Colonial Standardish broad eying him up. He's mine you know." She smiled pleasantly, though her eyeballs seemed to roll in a complete revolution before settling back in place with a slight shake, as though they belonged in a slot machine in Blip's arcade. "She has a point." Siress Belloby added. "Let's take a looksee, and see what kind of range we can get with this baby." She pulled her crystal ball and the remote mind control out of her purse. She peeredy-killer. Maybe I'll need a new name. Like...Shyler? Hhmm.... Oh, by the way, which part does Boxey play?" Apollo asked curiously, licking his fingers and smoothing his eyebrows into place. "Oh, well, he had a different script altogether. The Fire in Space episode." Iblis snorted. "Moore, again." "Hmm. That was a rough one for Boxey. His Grandfather..." "Oh, shut up. I saw it. That's not why we're here, to take a trip down bloody memory lane. I've brought you here to destroy you. BWAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" "Why?" Apollo asked in morbid fascination. "Well, the place I usually go was already booked." Iblis shrugged. "Tara's flat is being redecorated, and..." "That's NOT what I meant." Apollo sneered. "I mean why do villians always say 'BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!' at this point in the action?" "Uh...well, it's kind of a tradition. Goes all the way back to Great-great-great-great-great-uncle Vlad, and the..." "Iblis, you are beside him. "Ion propulsion systems do actually pump, if ye use magnetic pulse constrictor coils as part o' the engineerin'." "Uh, thanks," he replied, as the other turned away, dissolving from sight. Man, I gotta watch the ambrosa! "Leto!" The voice that seemed slightly less mysterious cried again. "Hey! Holy ghola!" Murdock yelled. "The worm turned!" "Leto!" The huge worm reared up, changing directions mid air and then slammed into the pit again in the opposite direction, barely missing the mysterious man. "Who is that mysterious man?" Amy leaned over the pit. "He's kind of cute." "Hey!" Starbuck called to her. "What about me? I get the idea she doesn't want to have my baby anymore." "The early bird catches the worm, Face." Hannibal grinned. "That would be one big fracking bird, Hannibal!" Starbuck called back, trying to scale the almost vertical walls of the pit. "Go help him, Murdock." Hannibal instructed the other. He lookedd into the crystal ball, only to see that things had changed drastically in the world of Starbuck... * * * * * * "Aaarrrrggghhh!" Starbuck screamed as the hideous mutant that had been the luscious Mrs. Peel approached him, arms reaching out for him. He stumbled backwards, his body moving slowly and woodenly. What was wrong with him? He threw the glass of bubbling wine to the ground, breaking it into thousands of shards. It must be something in the alcohol. They had drugged him. There was no way in Hades... oh, bad choice of words, Bucko... there was no possible way that the gorgeous woman who had stood before him only moments before could have changed into this vile, despicable, grotesque... creature! "Come here, lover," the horrible creature purred to him. "I'm feeling kinda... horny." "Lords of Kobol, but you make Korax look cute!' rasped Starbuck. "Hey, watch it!" came a voice from off-camera. "Two-eyes!" Starbuck shook his head in horror as the Pone sick puppy. You know that?" Iblis smiled. "I know." He stuck out his tongue at the Captain. "Iblis, I've had enough of this! It's time to get serious and discuss terms under which... " Apollo stopped his words in horror, as his body was swept up in an incredible urge to dance... badly. * * * * * * "Thankth." Blip told whoever had knocked the humungous machine off of him and onto the annoying, smouldering, slightly crisp, formerly orange daggit that had been salivating all over him. It would salivate no longer. Quite a trick for something that was mechanized really. Good quality workmanship. It was well and truly squashed. Not a servo circuit firing. Not a diode relaying. Not a Wrrrrrrrbbbbbiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnggggggggggg to be heard. It was gone to the great mechanical daggit heaven in the sky. Deader than a doornail. More dead than Sagan. Gonzo. Belly up. Lifeless. Bloodless. Not existing. Blooey. Offed. Breathless. Rubbed out. Practically buried. Cada around a moment. "Murdock? Where did he go, BA?" "He went to ask the American Courier Butler Guy if there was any more pizza." "I thought he already ate the last piece." Hannibal mused aloud. "So did I." Chameleon added. "And he knows I like liquicia, too any sign of the sensors? I mean the Censors?" "Guess we'll find out." "Hello! Remember me? Down in the pit?" Starbuck yelled at them. He looked behind him to see the mysterious man running in his direction... the worm following. "Frack!" He waved his arms at the other. "Go the other way! Dead end!" "Run! This is not your fight! Run!" The other replied, grabbing Starbuck and pulling him alongside as they began yet another lap. "I'm running already!" Starbuck followed, gasping for breath. "Who... are you?" "Duncan British Columbia," the man replied. Murdock came running back in. "Who is he? I just knew I'd miss it." "Never mind that, was there any more pizza?" BA asked. "Noverous even. Mortified. Defunct. Extinct. Checked out. Stiff. Cold, even for a cybernetic life form. Cut off. Deceased. Done for. Expired. Inanimate. Liquidated. Departed. No more. Passed away. Erased. Perished. Reposing. Snuffed out. Washed up. Got it?????????????????? De rigor. And then, suddenly... ***************** WHAT happened suddenly? WILL Apollo and Starbuck dance together once more? HOW can 'Buckers escape from Mrs. Peel? WHAT fiendish plot has she rigged up? WILL Myrtle really turn out to be Myrtle's name? WILL Igraine succeed in suing everyone? WILL she end up taking after her grand...never mind. WHO helped Blip? WILL the script Apollo was reading turn out to be another awful crossover? CAN Boomer and Hummer recover in time to save Boxey from Borax? WILL Vela and Sheba ever reconcile to having had the same man? IS the river still Stygian? WILL Eric ever post a comment on the Chrons? WHERE is Cassie right now? For that matter...I mean, FOR that matter, . But he did start to tell me that he got a great deal on those signs he's always holding up down at Hillsid..." Murdock trailed off. "Hillsid... what?" BA asked. "Dunno. He ran out of ink." Murdock shrugged. "Now, who is our mystery man behind worm number one?" "Duncan British Columbia," Hannibal replied, patting down his jacket for a cigar. "Face, do you have a cigar!" Starbuck saluted the other with a single finger as he ran by. "Guess not." "He can't be Duncan British Columbia, Hannibal. Uhh, you don't have any relatives from Scotland, do ya?" "No," said the newcomer. "I am quite alone." "I see." "In fact, there can be only one of me." "Ooooooh-kay. Family in Quebec, maybe?" "Like hell." "That's it! I knew it, Hannibal," exclaimed Murdock. "This is clearly a rip off of the Dune series. He has to be Duncan Idaho." "Maybe it's a Canadian production, Murdock. Ever think of that?" "I ain't takin' no pay cut, Hannibeel- creature moved closer to him. He tripped over his feet, falling backwards onto the ground. His eyes were drawn to the horrible horn sticking out of its forehead. It could gouge a warrior to death! "Well, then, I'll come to you." The creature whispered sensuously as Mrs. Peel's body, beneath the horrific head, strutted towards him, her body oozing sexuality. Starbuck tried to say something, but he had no control of his body. He tried to scramble backwards, but instead he lay there like a sacrificial bovine. No matter how hard he tried to move his frozen muscles, they seemed paralyzed by the drug. Lords, he couldn't even close his eyes! Dibley laughed as he watched. "Yer truly helpless, lad. `Fraid she can do what she wants wi' ya, mate. It's the drink, ya see. Controls yer mind. Muvver always warned me not to take too much of the drink." Starbuck watched in utter revulsion as the creature straddled his body. She leaned down over him and licked him up the swhere is Lucifer, Baltar, et al? For the answers to these, and other orthostratigraphic non- petroliferous questions, tune in to the next gastroenterologically ennervating episode of THE STARBUCK CHRONICLES. Be here, when we'll hear Ronald D. Moore say... "Well imagine that!" (and, if you're really good, like actually posting responses to the loop!!!!!!!! doing 1000 one-handed push-ups, painting Lisa's living room, retiling Lisa's bathroom, discovering an environmentally-friendly alternative to disposable diapers without losing any convenience factors*, oh, and creating a mouse that can withstand repetitive pounding on the computer desk without system breakdown, then, and only then ), you might hear Blip say, "It'th alive! Again!!!!!!" *Try rabbit or chamois hides, Zaz. Worked for cavemen. Forget the previous that was previous to this previous, okay? Wrong button! The Godfather Goes On A Diet will not be seen at this time, in order that we may present the following al!" rumbled BA. "Or moving to Vancouver! I hate the rain, sucka!" "Ah!" "Any chance that you've seen a wormhole down here?" Starbuck asked Duncan as they managed to stay just ahead of the worm, Leto. "Several." Duncan breathed. "Any wormhole in particular you're looking for?" "Yeah, a distortion of space-time in a region of the universe that would link one location or time with another, through a path that is shorter in distance or duration than would otherwise be expected." Starbuck briefly explained. "Trying to get to the Perambulator 500." "Well, the trouble is that if we go through the wormhole, it could be the wrong one." Duncan mused. "Right about now, I'm not sure that I care," Starbuck replied, glancing behind him. Wormy was still behind them. "Then, come on!" Duncan grabbed his arm, pulling him into a hole leading deep into the Earth. "Fraaackkkk!!!!" Starbuck screamed as he began sliding down the hole and it abruptly dropped off into a fide of his face, pausing a moment to stick her tongue in his ear and thoroughly clean out his earwax, previously mentioned in Chronicle 31. Lords, he was about to be... The bizarre nature of the situation was almost too much to bear! His body twitched suddenly. All of it, you understand. Abruptly, he needed to dance!! * * * * * * "Aren't you done yet?" Iblis asked, as he stood arms akimbo watching Apollo read the script. "I think I met Rover." Apollo noted, flipping through the pages. "But why are Rover and Mother in the same script? Is this some kind of crossover..." "Of course, you did." Iblis commented. "And never mind about the other. We'll leave the crossover where it was intended to be. Women's lingerie." "Ohhh, is Sheba here?" "I see you've been hanging around Starbuck too long." "I'll have you know, Starbuck isn't the only one sexy enough to persue an energetic love life. I'm thinking about redefining my character. Captain Apollo, laree fall. Then everything began to shimmer, meld and shift. The two men hit the ground (which was, as you might have guessed ) hard, knocking the breath from them. Starbuck groaned, starting to get up, but Duncan was already there, and pulling him to his feet. Strangely, the wormhole seemed to be directly before them, and hadn't closed yet. "Duncan British Columbia, eh? And I thought 'Starbuck' was bad." The Warrior muttered to his new best friend as he looked around. It looked very much like they were back in the Fleet on some kind of passenger freighter. The door across the corridor was slightly open... and beckoned him onward. "Well, I sort of changed it," Duncan explained. "I've spent 3500 years serving Leto and then being killed and reborn as a ghola over and over. He's the God-Emperor of my universe." He paused. "I figured being Duncan Idaho was just bad luck. A totally nowhere moniker. I mean really small potatoes. So I thought I'd try Duncan British Columbia and sdy-killer. Maybe I'll need a new name. Like...Shyler? Hhmm.... Oh, by the way, which part does Boxey play?" Apollo asked curiously, licking his fingers and smoothing his eyebrows into place. "Oh, well, he had a different script altogether. The Fire in Space episode." Iblis snorted. "Moore, again." "Hmm. That was a rough one for Boxey. His Grandfather..." "Oh, shut up. I saw it. That's not why we're here, to take a trip down bloody memory lane. I've brought you here to destroy you. BWAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" "Why?" Apollo asked in morbid fascination. "Well, the place I usually go was already booked." Iblis shrugged. "Tara's flat is being redecorated, and..." "That's NOT what I meant." Apollo sneered. "I mean why do villians always say 'BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!' at this point in the action?" "Uh...well, it's kind of a tradition. Goes all the way back to Great-great-great-great-great-uncle Vlad, and the..." "Iblis, you are heavy-duty program. ********* When last we looked in upon our heroes, et al, Apollo, after a heated confrontation with the vile, disgusting, evil, horrific, Satanic, hellish, and really really bad Count Iblis, was suddenly seized by an uncontrollable desire to begin dancing. Badly. Elsewhere, over on Stage 18 I think, Starbuck was also suddenly unable to stop himself from doing the same thing. Also, alas, badly, although it did, momentarily at least, save him from the clutches, if not the earwash, of the hideous being that the formerly lucious lust object, Mrs. Peel, accompanying Iblis' somewhat less-known brother, Dibley, had become. This was after Apollo discovered that Boxey had the wrong script, and indeed his own was, inexplicably I might add, pairing Rover with Mother. Elsewhere, Blip had been nearly crushed (to death) by a toppled video game machine, which chose that very moment to start paying off. Moments before his horrific demise, however, something, to wit the voree how that works out." "Why British Columbia?" "Well, one of the geneticists that created one of my previous incarnations, who doubled as a pastry chef on the Princess Marguerite, introduced me to tea and crumpets." "And he suggested it?" "Well, it was either than or Duncan Ogopogo." Starbuck considered the other. "And I thought I had problems. Sounds like you could use a new job... or a good psycho-therapist." He stepped forward, pushing the door all the way open. A couple were embracing within. They turned, gasping when they saw who had found them. "Athena! Baltar!" Starbuck gaped. "What the frack..." Starbuck turned sharply on his heel. "What plotline are we in?" "What happened?" Duncan asked. "Back into the wormhole!" Starbuck yelled. He grabbed the other man and leaped the leap of faith, yelling, "I can't reconcile the differences in the space-time continuum!" "What does that mean?" Duncan asked, his eyes growing wide as he saw ttex-spanning sci-fi, super- duper, el-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside came crashing through, carrying Boomer and Hummer, knocking the rather heavy machine off of him, saving his life. It was also at this point (parenthetically), that Muffit, showing his true devotion to Humanity, licked and slobbered the prostrate Blip into a partial recovery, the heroic daggit! Sadly, they were too late to save Boxey from being seized by the fake Boomer, in reality Borax the shape- shifting Ziklagi extra (he's got clorox bottles on his feet, in case you see him, for a clean get-a-way, btw), all the while Igraine, one of Apollo's unexpected children by Vela, was both threatening to sue for more lines, and commenting on her Auntie Athena's....architecture. And, behind all of this, Siress Belloby, Sheba, and a priestess named Myrtle are watching it all, plotting Lords of Kobol knows what further ickiness. Okay, ready? Good, 'cause I ain't gonone sick puppy. You know that?" Iblis smiled. "I know." He stuck out his tongue at the Captain. "Iblis, I've had enough of this! It's time to get serious and discuss terms under which... " Apollo stopped his words in horror, as his body was swept up in an incredible urge to dance... badly. * * * * * * "Thankth." Blip told whoever had knocked the humungous machine off of him and onto the annoying, smouldering, slightly crisp, formerly orange daggit that had been salivating all over him. It would salivate no longer. Quite a trick for something that was mechanized really. Good quality workmanship. It was well and truly squashed. Not a servo circuit firing. Not a diode relaying. Not a Wrrrrrrrbbbbbiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnggggggggggg to be heard. It was gone to the great mechanical daggit heaven in the sky. Deader than a doornail. More dead than Sagan. Gonzo. Belly up. Lifeless. Bloodless. Not existing. Blooey. Offed. Breathless. Rubbed out. Practically buried. Cadahe God-Emperor Leto coming straight towards them through the wormhole, his mouth gaping wide. "I think we're fracked!" "Funny, he looks a lot like Ogopogo, actually." "My point exactly!" ======= WHAT will happen to our heroes next? WHO is the mysterious Duncan British Columbia? WHICH plotline are they in? WHO is the mysterious God-Emperor Leto, and why is he (morals aside) a worm? WILL Hannibal find any more cigars? WHAT is Ogopogo? WILL Murdock get some more pizza? WHAT were Athena and Baltar doing? Really. WHO was the guy in the red shirt? WHICH man's baby will Amy end up having? For the answers to these, and a whole freakin' gob of other questions we couldn't think of right now, be sure and catch the next evisceratingly incontinent episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in when we'll hear Baltar say, "Oh felgercarb! I don't think I have any more!" ======= Chuck Norris Hosts the 42nd Annual Garbage Truck Demolition Derby will not be seen at this time. In na repeat it. God knows, replied the Butler Guy, holding up a small sign, as always. "Hhmm..... Do you think Moore might have a slot for me in his new show?" asked the IL Series Cylon, somewhat dreamily. "I mean if Richard can get cast in it..." I imagine he might. But you might need a refit. "Oh? I suppose it's time. Do you think he'd like a vermouth cassis?" Bleech! "Good!" Zap! Pop! Sizzle! TZzzzzzzzzzzzzzz! Lick. Slobber. "Oh My God!" shouted Blip. "It'th alive!!!!!!!!!! Again!!!!!" "Let me go!" shouted Boxey, and the heavily be-clorox bottled Borax tried to spirit him away. "Why?" replied the alien shape shifter. "Why should I possibly do that?" "Uuhh..'cause?" " 'cause why?" asked Borax, stopping in his bleachy tracks. Damn bottles were a bit tight around the shins. "Because I'm the heroic little Human boy who needs to be rescued, I've lost my daggit which will generate sympathy from the audience, andverous even. Mortified. Defunct. Extinct. Checked out. Stiff. Cold, even for a cybernetic life form. Cut off. Deceased. Done for. Expired. Inanimate. Liquidated. Departed. No more. Passed away. Erased. Perished. Reposing. Snuffed out. Washed up. Got it?????????????????? De rigor. And then, suddenly... ***************** WHAT happened suddenly? WILL Apollo and Starbuck dance together once more? HOW can 'Buckers escape from Mrs. Peel? WHAT fiendish plot has she rigged up? WILL Myrtle really turn out to be Myrtle's name? WILL Igraine succeed in suing everyone? WILL she end up taking after her grand...never mind. WHO helped Blip? WILL the script Apollo was reading turn out to be another awful crossover? CAN Boomer and Hummer recover in time to save Boxey from Borax? WILL Vela and Sheba ever reconcile to having had the same man? IS the river still Stygian? WILL Eric ever post a comment on the Chrons? WHERE is Cassie right now? For that matter...I mean, FOR that matter, it's place we present the following load of trash. ======= The Starbuck Chronicles Part Eighty-Two "People don't really understand me," Apollo mumbled, an unsteady elbow supporting his chin as he gazed blearily through half-closed eyes and took a sip of his murky red cocktail, frowning when the swizzle stick lodged in his left nostril. The 'Afterburn' was the House Specialty at the Lost Souls Bar, Grill, and Exotic Booze Emporium and, apropos to its name, he was beginning to feel the burn. "They just don't understand me, and what I have to go through, to keep everyone in the Fleet safe. Everyone. Every living soul. Ever man, woman, child and daggit. Understanding! All I want is a little understanding." He sipped his drink again. "Is that too much to ask?" Burn baby burn! - Disco inferno! Burn baby burn! - Burn that mama down. Burn baby burn! - Disco inferno! Burn baby burn! - Burn that mama down. Burnin'! "What was that? I didn't really understand you." The fellow be you're the icky mean alien baddy." "MMMmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm....not good enough," replied Borax. "We need more...motivation." "Yeah, good point." Boxey thought a moment. "Umm, because the real Boomer and Hummer will blast you with their lasers when they catch up with you? Not to mention what Boomer's going to do when he gets a load of those boots." "Well, better," said Borax, scratching his chin, "but that's a given. Besides, I have lots of concealed weapons. I can even shape shift into something that can refract energy beams." He wavered, blurred, and settled into the form of a tall man in ablue suit, with a thick shock of black hair. "Try again, Box-o." "Well, I didn't want to mention this, but..." "Yeah?" "But Siress Belloby and the ladies are behind that door, right behind you. And you know how she is!" "AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" "Cool," said Myrtle. "I like it." "Hey, folks," said Cassie. "I miss anywhere is Lucifer, Baltar, et al? For the answers to these, and other orthostratigraphic non- petroliferous questions, tune in to the next gastroenterologically ennervating episode of THE STARBUCK CHRONICLES. Be here, when we'll hear Ronald D. Moore say... "Well imagine that!" (and, if you're really good, like actually posting responses to the loop!!!!!!!! doing 1000 one-handed push-ups, painting Lisa's living room, retiling Lisa's bathroom, discovering an environmentally-friendly alternative to disposable diapers without losing any convenience factors*, oh, and creating a mouse that can withstand repetitive pounding on the computer desk without system breakdown, then, and only then ), you might hear Blip say, "It'th alive! Again!!!!!!" *Try rabbit or chamois hides, Zaz. Worked for cavemen. Forget the previous that was previous to this previous, okay? Wrong button! The Godfather Goes On A Diet will not be seen at this time, in order that we may present the following side him grinned, pointing to his right ear, before adding, "The noise, you know." Apollo's constant drinking companion of the last two rounds rested both elbows on the bar before him with arms crossed, and watched the latest amateur act, somehow managing to avoid spearing himself with the umbrella, swizzle stick, and swirl straw in his own glass. Apollo glanced at the other, watching him lift the glass and all decorative drink paraphernalia fall to the side of the glass, seemingly parting the way for his lips to taste the deep amber liquid. Apollo narrowed his eyes, realizing the other man looked disturbingly familiar. A lot like Starbuck, with slightly shorter hair actually, but the other had acted as though the Captain was a complete stranger. "Starbuck?" Apollo asked, his acute observational skills kicking, in despite the alcoholic haze he'd been enjoying. Lords of Kobol, he'd pay for this in the morning. Probably for several mornings. Sheba would see to it. "No,"thing?" "Where have you been for all these eps?" asked Sheba. "Don't blame me, Sheeb. It's that writer's fault. I told him he could have a wild night with me, IF I got some screen time." Myrtle laughed. Borax screamed again. "I think we're close. Okay, let's go!" said Belloby, shoving the door open and bursting through into the other room. "Boomer! What are you doing with those bleach bottles on your feet. There's a dress code in effect here, you know!" "Siress Belloby! Sheba! Cassiopeia! Uh... Help! He's not Boomer. He's a Shapeshifting, shifty-eyed, shat of an alien!" Boxey screamed, trying to free himself from Borax's grasp. "He's very clean for a shifty-eyed, Shapeshifting shat, isn't he?" Cassie commented. "And the floor is immaculate." Vela added, as she saw her image reflected back at her. She pulled out her hair pick and started preening, just in case the scene where they rescued Apollo was soon. "What?" Myrtle asked, her eyes sti the dark blond man shook his head briefly. "Soooo...why don't people understand you?" He clinked his glass against Apollo's and tried to look interested, just before he started to look around the room. "Are you looking for someone?" Apollo asked, studying the side profile of the man. It was Starbuck! But what in Hades hole was he denying it for? "I sort of lost track of someone in the last few scenes," the other responded, shrugging. "I thought we'd really hit it off, what with all that chocolate. And then... I woke up and she was gone." He sighed, then smiled ruefully. "That's usually my scene." "Providence," Apollo mused, trying to clear his blurred vision as he considered the other once again. The clothes were unusual. Casual, yet well-cut and high quality. A black leather jacket undone to reveal a crisp white shirt that buttoned down the front. Dark, blue pants. Dark boots resting on the bar stool. He was well put together... and he obviously knew it as more than one paheavy-duty program. ********* When last we looked in upon our heroes, et al, Apollo, after a heated confrontation with the vile, disgusting, evil, horrific, Satanic, hellish, and really really bad Count Iblis, was suddenly seized by an uncontrollable desire to begin dancing. Badly. Elsewhere, over on Stage 18 I think, Starbuck was also suddenly unable to stop himself from doing the same thing. Also, alas, badly, although it did, momentarily at least, save him from the clutches, if not the earwash, of the hideous being that the formerly lucious lust object, Mrs. Peel, accompanying Iblis' somewhat less-known brother, Dibley, had become. This was after Apollo discovered that Boxey had the wrong script, and indeed his own was, inexplicably I might add, pairing Rover with Mother. Elsewhere, Blip had been nearly crushed (to death) by a toppled video game machine, which chose that very moment to start paying off. Moments before his horrific demise, however, something, to wit the vorll trained on Belloby's crystal ball. A lascivious grin spread across her fine features as she watched Starbuck start to dance... not too badly. After all, Sen, Chameleon is the man's father. "Switch channels, I wanna see how Apollo is doing." Sheba told her as she nudged in beside her. "Switch channels on a crystal ball?" Boxey asked, distracted by the new technology. "Of course." Belloby told him. "This is not your run-of- the-mill crystal ball, my boy." "Kind of like the ones in Lord Of The Rings?" "Yeah. Autographed, too. With these babies, not only can I see into the future, I can see Apollo and Starbuck dancing." "Dad doesn't dance." Boxey informed them. "Oh, we know, Boxey. Believe you me, we know." Sheba shook her head as she gazed into the crystal ball... "Although I hear Grandpa used to cut a rug pretty good, once upon a time..." * * * * * Apollo's left shoulder began twitching up and down in time to the... oh, frack, we forgot the mir of eyes in the bar settled on him appreciatively. Yet with his usual nonchalance, he bathed in it as though accustomed to the attention and didn't acknowledge the fuss, other than to occasionally meet a pair of fawning eyes on an attractive female before again resuming his search of the room. "Huh? What's Rhode Island got to do with it?" "Oh, Lords of Kobol." "No, she said her name was Athena," the other replied as he pulled a fumarello out of his pocket, eying it briefly-his thoughts seemingly far away-before the barkeep offered him a light. "Thanks." "Athena?" Apollo asked, then thought about it a moment. Then, when he realized he wasn't really thinking at all, he thought about it again. His mental acuity had definitely been affected. What was he thinking when he had decided to sit down and drink himself halfway to oblivion? "My Athena?" "Lover?" He drew deeply on his fumarello, exhaling through his nose. He looked concerned at this possibility. "NO!" Aptex-spanning sci-fi, super- duper, el-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside came crashing through, carrying Boomer and Hummer, knocking the rather heavy machine off of him, saving his life. It was also at this point (parenthetically), that Muffit, showing his true devotion to Humanity, licked and slobbered the prostrate Blip into a partial recovery, the heroic daggit! Sadly, they were too late to save Boxey from being seized by the fake Boomer, in reality Borax the shape- shifting Ziklagi extra (he's got clorox bottles on his feet, in case you see him, for a clean get-a-way, btw), all the while Igraine, one of Apollo's unexpected children by Vela, was both threatening to sue for more lines, and commenting on her Auntie Athena's....architecture. And, behind all of this, Siress Belloby, Sheba, and a priestess named Myrtle are watching it all, plotting Lords of Kobol knows what further ickiness. Okay, ready? Good, 'cause I ain't gonusic! "No trouble," Iblis declared, being a demon who was very sensitive to the writer's omissions. He pointed a finger to the ridge above him. Five humans appeared from a puff of smoke. They appeared quite stygian in countenance. "How the hell did we get here, Tommy?" "I don't know Dennis, but that river looks... inspiring." "Oh, do shut up and play us a tune." Iblis thundered up at them. "The captain will twitch himself to death if we keep up this charade much longer." Welcome to the grand illusion, come on in and see what's happening, pay the price get your tickets for the show... * * * * * Meanwhile, back in the arcade Blip rolled over to see the humungous, monstrous, incredibly heavy machine that was Cylons-A-Go-Go... I think... start to move. A slight wrrrrrrbbbbiiiinnggg sound came from beneath it. "Lord Thagan, I don't believe it. It'th really alive." Blip muttered in amazement. Abruptly, one of Eric's weather patterns from the latest ollo shook his head distastefully, spontaneously dislodging the swizzle stick. It hit the rim of his glass, bounced off, then tottered a moment on the edge of the table, before falling to the floor. However, this minor detail is, really, quite meaningless as far as the story goes, and can be safely ignored. As long as you're buckled up. He'd actually forgotten about it until then. Starbuck smiled at him in amusement, but kept his usual remarks to himself oddly enough. "Brother, as you well know," Apollo replied sharply, wiping his nose distractedly. "You're Athena's brother?" he asked as he studied Apollo. "That's what mom and dad always said," he mumbled, taking another drink. Then, he straightened up, looking directly at the other. "Of course I am! What are you trying to pull, Starbuck?" Apollo asked testily. "I'm not Starbuck." He shook his head briefly. "The name's Templeton Peck." The other nodded at Apollo, flashing a reassuring I'm-one-of-the-good-guys smiles. The Virtual Episode, Nature's Fury, swept through the arcade. After all, it was getting bored waiting for the latest chapter to be revealed to the expectant and somewhat impatient readers. The cyclone sucked Cylons-a-Go-Go and the daggit up into it and far, far away. Never to be seen against Cyclones are like that you know. "What the frack ith that?" Blip asked, as he looked around his totally destroyed arcade. A house was sitting in the middle of the room. Blip climbed slowly to his feet and limped over. From beneath the house a pair of legs could be seen. Wearing hideous tights and the most sparkly red, high- heeled shoes he had ever seen. And they looked to be just about his size! "Well, fanthy that." * * * * * "I like the way you move, lover." The late Mrs. Peel purred to Starbuck as his body practically vibrated beneath her. Her hideous, deformed head leaned down towards him, but she was having trouble holding on to him, as he began to shake his booty, baby! Shakna repeat it. God knows, replied the Butler Guy, holding up a small sign, as always. "Hhmm..... Do you think Moore might have a slot for me in his new show?" asked the IL Series Cylon, somewhat dreamily. "I mean if Richard can get cast in it..." I imagine he might. But you might need a refit. "Oh? I suppose it's time. Do you think he'd like a vermouth cassis?" Bleech! "Good!" Zap! Pop! Sizzle! TZzzzzzzzzzzzzzz! Lick. Slobber. "Oh My God!" shouted Blip. "It'th alive!!!!!!!!!! Again!!!!!" "Let me go!" shouted Boxey, and the heavily be-clorox bottled Borax tried to spirit him away. "Why?" replied the alien shape shifter. "Why should I possibly do that?" "Uuhh..'cause?" " 'cause why?" asked Borax, stopping in his bleachy tracks. Damn bottles were a bit tight around the shins. "Because I'm the heroic little Human boy who needs to be rescued, I've lost my daggit which will generate sympathy from the audience, andsame smile Starbuck had flashed him when he had admitted just a yahren or so before the Destruction that he was "interested in Athena" as "more than just a friend". Apollo still recalled his gut dropping into his boots, as he gathered every bit of self-control about him to stop himself from hauling off and punching the philandering Starbuck...as a starter. Actually, now that he thought about it, he hadn't seen Starbuck for a while now. And for some reason the other was denying that he was Starbuck. Briefly, he wondered if it could be a head injury. (Or, maybe Aurora was somewhere nearby?) The truth was, he'd been sitting in the damn bar for so long that he'd almost forgot about his troublesome best friend. Until Starbuck happened along, claiming that he was someone else, as he casually dropped the bomb that he'd slept with Apollo's sister. The Captain sneered... just before he punched Starbuck-or Peckington Temp, if the other preferred it-in the mouth. "Apollo!" Athena cried, appearine, shake, shake. Shake, shake, shake. Shake your booty. Starbuck jumped to his feet, moving his body lithely around his tormentor, just staying out of reach as she tried to enfold him in her arms. All the time he was thinking, Thank the Lords, KC and the Sunshine Band showed up, and not Styx. His body moved closer to the edge of the cliff and he looked down below him while he spun in a tight circle. While a little dizzy, he could still see Apollo gyrating wildly to the Grand Illusion. Yeah, they were a great band, but you just couldn't dance to that felgercarb. "Come over here, lover." Mrs. Peel followed him in frustration. Everybody, get on the floor, let's dance! Don't fight your feelings, give yourself a chance! Shake, shake, shake. Shake, shake, shake. Shake your booty! Shake your booty! Suddenly, a flying horse swooped beneath him. The horse neighed at him. Jump on! "Sorry?" Starbuck asked, looking at the flying equine. Jump on! It neighed agai you're the icky mean alien baddy." "MMMmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm....not good enough," replied Borax. "We need more...motivation." "Yeah, good point." Boxey thought a moment. "Umm, because the real Boomer and Hummer will blast you with their lasers when they catch up with you? Not to mention what Boomer's going to do when he gets a load of those boots." "Well, better," said Borax, scratching his chin, "but that's a given. Besides, I have lots of concealed weapons. I can even shape shift into something that can refract energy beams." He wavered, blurred, and settled into the form of a tall man in ablue suit, with a thick shock of black hair. "Try again, Box-o." "Well, I didn't want to mention this, but..." "Yeah?" "But Siress Belloby and the ladies are behind that door, right behind you. And you know how she is!" "AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" "Cool," said Myrtle. "I like it." "Hey, folks," said Cassie. "I miss anyg from nowhere (bag of lingerie from Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel And Fooling Around Paraphernalia Emporium in hand)-which was where she returned to some time later, but that's another story. Her eyes flashed pure anger as she knelt down to where Starbuck lay on the floor, his fingers pulling something white from his mouth. He glanced at it in despair. "Another cap! Anyone know a good dentist?" Apollo sighed, feeling as though he'd been caught red-handed cutting his little sister's doll's porcine-tails off before he stuck it in a hover-ship and launched it across their neighbour's natatorium. You're probably wondering how we know he did that. Well, keep on wondering! "Are you okay, Starbuck?" Athena cooed, brushing the hair off his forehead, and blotting at the blood with a bar napkin. She positioned herself so his head could rest comfortably on her lap. "I'm... starting to feel better, Athena." He smiled up at her, once again struck by her beauty. "But I told you, n. Come on, I'm a flying equs, not a hovercraft. Yes I'm really sentient, it's YOU that's kinda daft! I don't have all day. Get your astrum in gear, and dance over here! "Wait a centon, how come I can understand you?" Starbuck asked the equine suspiciously. Hades, if they can have you talking to a black unicorn in one of the BSG novels, then surely to God they can steal the idea, improve upon only marginally, to have you once again saved by our species, in this most Stygian of hovels. Oy! Verse! "Surely to God." Starbuck repeated back to the creature as he leapt through the air, twisting impressively before landing on the creature's back. "Tally-Ho, Dibley! And tell Steed I have my own now!" he cried as they flew away to dizzying heights. He looked down, and noticed a sticky-note stuck to the saddle. Hope this helps, thanks for the wonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnderfull evening. Love ya, Miri & Little Buckers. Gulp! Just then the saddle slipped... Just then the sthing?" "Where have you been for all these eps?" asked Sheba. "Don't blame me, Sheeb. It's that writer's fault. I told him he could have a wild night with me, IF I got some screen time." Myrtle laughed. Borax screamed again. "I think we're close. Okay, let's go!" said Belloby, shoving the door open and bursting through into the other room. "Boomer! What are you doing with those bleach bottles on your feet. There's a dress code in effect here, you know!" "Siress Belloby! Sheba! Cassiopeia! Uh... Help! He's not Boomer. He's a Shapeshifting, shifty-eyed, shat of an alien!" Boxey screamed, trying to free himself from Borax's grasp. "He's very clean for a shifty-eyed, Shapeshifting shat, isn't he?" Cassie commented. "And the floor is immaculate." Vela added, as she saw her image reflected back at her. She pulled out her hair pick and started preening, just in case the scene where they rescued Apollo was soon. "What?" Myrtle asked, her eyes stiI'm not Starbuck. Really." Athena smiled at him, her expression tentative. Uncertain. She wanted to believe him, yet... After that nightequa she'd had where she'd been cohabitating with Baltar, she just wasn't sure what to think. She shuddered as she recalled Baltar searching desperately through his clothes with one sweaty hand as they were passionately embraced, then finally exclaiming in defeat, "Oh felgercarb! I don't think I have any more!" "What the frack is going on, Starbuck?" Apollo asked briskly as he watched his sister moon over the other, so much like she had so long ago... before she had learnt her lesson. A lesson so quickly forgotten, it appeared. "What kind of game are you playing?" "No game," he denied vehemently, his eyes holding Athena's, his fingers capturing hers. "Really?" Apollo drawled. "Then we're going to settle this." "How?" Athena asked curiously. "We're going to Life Station," Apollo replied, leaning down and jerking 'Starbucaddle slipped... "Oooooooooo fraaaaaaaaackkkk..................." ***** "You know," said Lucifer, wiping a glass and setting it back in place, "I haven't had any lines for several episodes now. I wonder if Glen has neglected to review my contract?" "Hey, guys!" said Lucifer, back out on the fairway, delivering drinks to Larson, Bellisario, and Moore. "I found the right script Boxey was supposed to have." "Imagine that," said Moore, deep into his drink. "Cool," said Bellisario. "Here, get this to Hathaway, okay?" he said to the Butler guy. Oh, joy. "Now, Glen," said Lucifer, arm about Larson's shoulder, "about my contract..." **************** WHAT new evil is Borax plotting? WHAT will happen once Hummer and Boomer meet up will the ladies? NOW that the right script has been found, WILL Boxey get it in time? WHAT is happening back on the Galactica? WHERE is Baltar? Will Moore like the vermouth cassis Lucifer brought? (I imagine so) WILL Larson ll trained on Belloby's crystal ball. A lascivious grin spread across her fine features as she watched Starbuck start to dance... not too badly. After all, Sen, Chameleon is the man's father. "Switch channels, I wanna see how Apollo is doing." Sheba told her as she nudged in beside her. "Switch channels on a crystal ball?" Boxey asked, distracted by the new technology. "Of course." Belloby told him. "This is not your run-of- the-mill crystal ball, my boy." "Kind of like the ones in Lord Of The Rings?" "Yeah. Autographed, too. With these babies, not only can I see into the future, I can see Apollo and Starbuck dancing." "Dad doesn't dance." Boxey informed them. "Oh, we know, Boxey. Believe you me, we know." Sheba shook her head as she gazed into the crystal ball... "Although I hear Grandpa used to cut a rug pretty good, once upon a time..." * * * * * Apollo's left shoulder began twitching up and down in time to the... oh, frack, we forgot the mk' to his feet. After all, if Starbuck truly had a head injury, then he needed to be there. And if he didn't, he could explain to them all why he was trying to mislead them. Most especially his sister. "Is this going to hurt?" the other asked worriedly. "Lords...." Apollo muttered in reply, shaking his head. It was definitely Starbuck. ************************** "Hannibal! We've got to do something!" Murdock yelled. "And I'm not talking about the pizza. I mean my toe-nails are buzzing. You know what it means when they buzz." "Toe nails?" growled BA. "Shut up, Fool!" "C'mon, BA. You know that something is bound to happen. Probably bad, considering all the time Lisa's made us wait for this chapter." "I know that, Captain." Hannibal replied, but for the first time in his illustrious career, he was feeling just a little bit out of his element... and dimension, for that matter. What exactly could he do to help Face escape an Earthworm from another universe... anacceeded to his contract demands? WILL Sheba and Apollo ever make up? WHERE is Starbuck headed? WHAT is going on back at the Arcade? For the answers to, hopefully, some of these confusticatingly bothersome questions, be sure to catch the next duodenally contortionalistic episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear Hummer say, "Book 'em, Boom-o!" And Starbuck add, somewhat addled, "Buck'em Book-O!" *********** The Sorceror's Stone From Harry Potter Turns Out To Be A Plastic Fake will not be seen at this time. Instead we present the following Hogwash. *********** On the last exacting episode of The Starbuck Chronicles, Apollo was about to challenge Count Iblis. Foremost on our illustrious Captain's mind was getting his son Boxey out of the evil clutches of Borax, a maniacal, but not very good, shapeshifter, hence the assumed shape of Lieutenant Boomer from knees up and two bleach bottles (scented lemony fresh!) from knees down. Just as our heroic Cusic! "No trouble," Iblis declared, being a demon who was very sensitive to the writer's omissions. He pointed a finger to the ridge above him. Five humans appeared from a puff of smoke. They appeared quite stygian in countenance. "How the hell did we get here, Tommy?" "I don't know Dennis, but that river looks... inspiring." "Oh, do shut up and play us a tune." Iblis thundered up at them. "The captain will twitch himself to death if we keep up this charade much longer." Welcome to the grand illusion, come on in and see what's happening, pay the price get your tickets for the show... * * * * * Meanwhile, back in the arcade Blip rolled over to see the humungous, monstrous, incredibly heavy machine that was Cylons-A-Go-Go... I think... start to move. A slight wrrrrrrbbbbiiiinnggg sound came from beneath it. "Lord Thagan, I don't believe it. It'th really alive." Blip muttered in amazement. Abruptly, one of Eric's weather patterns from the latest d story. "Sandworm!" The very air seemed to shake as the voice came from nowhere. "Who said that?" Murdock looked around. "I did!" "Well, yeah. Duh!" said Murdock. "But who exactly are you, if I may be so bold as to enquire, hhmm.....?" "I am the great and powerful..." "Never mind that now, we're digressing!" Hannibal replied. "What a switch," BA muttered, rolling his eyes. Suddenly, Hannibal grinned and hollered to the Heavens. "Hey, if you're so great and powerful, do you think you could scare us up a flock of birds?" "Not sure it's in the budget!" "Ah, now I know who you are." The Colonel shook his head. "Hey, you've already cut my cigar supply, as well as my supply officer, so if you don't find me a flock of birds, when we renegotiate my contract, it's going to hurt. Big time, pal." "Yeah, it's not like Hitchcock needs them anymore!" Murdock added. "That was twenty years ago! You really think we still have them around?" aptain was about to make his move, the control of his body was seized once again by Siress Belloby and her Divas-R-Us... (See the link on their web page, www.divas-r- us.org/priestesses/Belloby/myrt_the_flirt.html for coupons and membership information.)... due to the mind control device they had implanted some episodes ago. Simultaneously, the dashing Lieutenant Starbuck's body was also consumed by an uncontrollable urge to dance his way far, far from the hideously transfigured Mrs. Peel. As the Starbuck Luck would have it, a winged equine, apparently sent by Miri and Little Buckers (more on that later, possibly), swooped in to carry him away to safety. Unfortunately, also as his typical luck would have it, the saddle was not properly secured, and Starbuck was about to plummet to his... So........... "Buck"le up, hold on to your hats, and have your emesis basin nearby... Just when you thought it was safe to check your email... The Starbuck Chronicles Part 66. * * * * * Virtual Episode, Nature's Fury, swept through the arcade. After all, it was getting bored waiting for the latest chapter to be revealed to the expectant and somewhat impatient readers. The cyclone sucked Cylons-a-Go-Go and the daggit up into it and far, far away. Never to be seen against Cyclones are like that you know. "What the frack ith that?" Blip asked, as he looked around his totally destroyed arcade. A house was sitting in the middle of the room. Blip climbed slowly to his feet and limped over. From beneath the house a pair of legs could be seen. Wearing hideous tights and the most sparkly red, high- heeled shoes he had ever seen. And they looked to be just about his size! "Well, fanthy that." * * * * * "I like the way you move, lover." The late Mrs. Peel purred to Starbuck as his body practically vibrated beneath her. Her hideous, deformed head leaned down towards him, but she was having trouble holding on to him, as he began to shake his booty, baby! Shak "Hey, the way I hear it, these back lots are endless." Hannibal replied with a shrug, looking up at one of the alien war machines that had been there since, oh, at least 1953. "Know what I mean?" "I hear that Tippi Hedren kept a few, when production wrapped," said Amy. "I mean, hey, that's what the guy said on Turner Classic Movies last time they ran it." "I'll see what I can do." "You better get on with it, Sucka!" BA added. "No prob." "Is this Area 51?" asked Amy "She's a bit slow, isn't she?" Chameleon suggested, then asked, "Any cheesy bits left in the box?" "No, but I got a breadstick." *********************** "You've got to be kidding!" Apollo looked at Dr. Salik incredulously. "I'm not kidding." Salik shook his head. "He's not Starbuck, but according to their genetics match, they are distantly related." "Told you I wasn't Starbuck," Peck inserted. "You're not a very trusting bunch up here in Spaceville, are you? If it wasn "Commander, regulations are brutally clear. They've been missing for over... 65 episodes." Colonel Tigh reported quietly on the bridge, checking his chrono, extra pink pages in his back pocket. "I know, Tigh. But, surely there must be a way to delay... " Every yahren showed on Adama's weary face as he ran his hand over it. "I'm sorry, Commander. I've used every available loophole. I've curbed, deferred, discontinued, held off, held over, held up, postponed, put off, shelved, and suspended this moment long enough." He looked around, almost conspiratorially. "I even called Sire Solon. We have to officially report Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck as missing in action." "But they weren't all action scenes, Tigh," reasoned Adama. "Oh yeah?" came Vela's voice, from the next sound- stage. "A few sure as frack were! Woooo. Let me tell you..." Adama nodded, knowing it was true. He'd read the pink pages. * * * * * Iblis' sick, evil, twisted, malignae, shake, shake. Shake, shake, shake. Shake your booty. Starbuck jumped to his feet, moving his body lithely around his tormentor, just staying out of reach as she tried to enfold him in her arms. All the time he was thinking, Thank the Lords, KC and the Sunshine Band showed up, and not Styx. His body moved closer to the edge of the cliff and he looked down below him while he spun in a tight circle. While a little dizzy, he could still see Apollo gyrating wildly to the Grand Illusion. Yeah, they were a great band, but you just couldn't dance to that felgercarb. "Come over here, lover." Mrs. Peel followed him in frustration. Everybody, get on the floor, let's dance! Don't fight your feelings, give yourself a chance! Shake, shake, shake. Shake, shake, shake. Shake your booty! Shake your booty! Suddenly, a flying horse swooped beneath him. The horse neighed at him. Jump on! "Sorry?" Starbuck asked, looking at the flying equine. Jump on! It neighed agai't for Athena," he smiled at her roguishly, "I'd say we should stop exploring outer space all together, and just stay home." "Where are you from?" Apollo asked, still dumbfounded that this wasn't Starbuck playing some kind of crazy prank on them... or suffering from a head injury. "Earth." "Earth?" Salik and Apollo repeated back at him. "Earth," Peck repeated more quietly. "You sound like you've heard of it?" "We're looking for it," Apollo replied. He blinked as he tried to rationalize the idea of Starbuck being a distant relative of an apparent descendent of the Thirteenth Tribe. Families could certainly go their separate ways, and evidently had. Probably, Starbuck's great-great-great-many-times-over-grandfather had gambled away his ducat while waiting to embark on the journey, and the rest of the family had left without him. Or maybe there was a girl... "Me too, strangely enough." Peck returned. "How did you get here?" Dr. Salik asked, his brow furrowent, horrid, festering, vile, and really really unpleasant laughter rang throughout the (stygian) depths of Hades Hole, as he watched Apollo's body sway in time to the beat of the band playing on the ridge. (Precisely where this band had come from is a matter of some conjecture in musical and psychopathic circles, but we won't go into it just now.) "It's difficult to take your threats seriously, Captain, when your dancing like an epileptic jumping bean." Apollo growled at the demon, knowing full well that Iblis was right. He looked ridiculous. Why hadn't his parents spent a few cubits on dance lessons instead of sticking him in cadets yahren after yahren as a child? Self- defence, leadership training, strategy, chess club, short- sheeting Athena's bed... what a waste! "Aaarrrrgggghhhh!!!!" abruptly rang out from above them. Apollo looked up, astounded to see a winged equine flying far above them... and the familiar shape of Starbuck plunging down towards them from dizzying heightn. Come on, I'm a flying equs, not a hovercraft. Yes I'm really sentient, it's YOU that's kinda daft! I don't have all day. Get your astrum in gear, and dance over here! "Wait a centon, how come I can understand you?" Starbuck asked the equine suspiciously. Hades, if they can have you talking to a black unicorn in one of the BSG novels, then surely to God they can steal the idea, improve upon only marginally, to have you once again saved by our species, in this most Stygian of hovels. Oy! Verse! "Surely to God." Starbuck repeated back to the creature as he leapt through the air, twisting impressively before landing on the creature's back. "Tally-Ho, Dibley! And tell Steed I have my own now!" he cried as they flew away to dizzying heights. He looked down, and noticed a sticky-note stuck to the saddle. Hope this helps, thanks for the wonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnderfull evening. Love ya, Miri & Little Buckers. Gulp! Just then the saddle slipped... Just then the sd. "Funny thing that. I was minding my own business reading Cattle Futures and watching an old episode of Bonanza, when I wandered accidentally into this casino." He glanced at them briefly to ensure they were still with him. "I struck up a conversation with this old guy when this other fellow flew by on a flying horse... and he looked a lot like me. Needed a haircut though." He surreptitiously peeked at Athena, Apollo and Dr. Salik who looked at him sceptically. Disbelievingly even. "It's true. Hey, it was this new place in Vegas, the Interdimensional Chancery. It was one helluva elevator ride, I can tell you." The really strange thing was getting off on the thirteenth floor. "Anyhow, this guy, Chameleon-like the lizard, but with a soft "C"-starts prattling on about thirteen tribes of Lombok, or something like that. Me and my look-alike-come to think of it his name might have been Starbuck, I'm a bit foggy on that-started playing some cards. We got on a roll. Even started playins... which was the only reason he hadn't hit bottom yet and gone splat, of course. Apollo said a silent prayer to God, all the Lords of Kobol and that saucy little goddess of Luck that Starbuck mentioned every so often (usually after cleaning up at Table III on the Rising Star, or coming out of Cassie's quarters with a grin on his face), as he watched the equine swoop back down towards his friend. * * * * * The wind swirled around Starbuck and his stomach felt as though it was doing its best to climb back up out of his abdomen and into his mouth, as he gazed in terror at the hastily approaching stygian ground. He was vaguely aware of the winged-equine swooping in to try and break his fall, but he was equally aware that with the combination of their trajectories and velocities, they weren't going to connect. Suddenly, the wind picked up again, seemingly tearing at his clothes... after all, no one else had for at least a couple episodes. In fact, it was a wonder of wondeaddle slipped... "Oooooooooo fraaaaaaaaackkkk..................." ***** "You know," said Lucifer, wiping a glass and setting it back in place, "I haven't had any lines for several episodes now. I wonder if Glen has neglected to review my contract?" "Hey, guys!" said Lucifer, back out on the fairway, delivering drinks to Larson, Bellisario, and Moore. "I found the right script Boxey was supposed to have." "Imagine that," said Moore, deep into his drink. "Cool," said Bellisario. "Here, get this to Hathaway, okay?" he said to the Butler guy. Oh, joy. "Now, Glen," said Lucifer, arm about Larson's shoulder, "about my contract..." **************** WHAT new evil is Borax plotting? WHAT will happen once Hummer and Boomer meet up will the ladies? NOW that the right script has been found, WILL Boxey get it in time? WHAT is happening back on the Galactica? WHERE is Baltar? Will Moore like the vermouth cassis Lucifer brought? (I imagine so) WILL Larson g together against the House. We were doing pretty well... and I had a couple too many Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters, so... I bet my teams retirement funds on a high stakes game, thanks to a tip from this guy named Blip." "I think we met him," said Athena. "You met him?" "That's what I said." "Okay. So, anyway, I bet it all on one roll. I lost." "Probably because you were playing cards, not dice. Frack... this is getting more believable by the micron," Apollo murmured. "What did Starbuck bet?" "Uh..." Peck felt his face redden slightly. "Half our funds. He talked me into staking him. I can't believe I went along with him." He'd been out-scammed. He glanced at an entirely sympathetic Apollo before continuing. "Well, I had to recover the funds... BA, Hannibal and Murdock would kill me if I didn't." Peck explained, without going into the unnecessary detail of who they were. "Uh, Starbuck was in the hole for half, so we entered the Perambulator 500 togetherr... a miracle of miracles... that his clothing had remained intact after miraculously reappearing after his strip tease in Divas-R-Us. But, I digress... The winged-equine neighed, uncharacteristically, also feeling the power and fury of the sudden gust of nature. Starbuck began to feel like he was in a centrifuge... and I can't even begin to tell you what that was doing to his stomach. Oh, bloody Hades! Starbuck could hear the equine think, as if this was merely an inconvenience for the curiosity of nature. Yes, Nature's Fury was back. The cyclone that had departed the VS episode, seemingly temporarily, had in fact mutinied and turned into a tornado, finding the entire experience of being the ONLY featured weather system in a story rather satisfying... in a purely egomaniacal kind of way. Sorry Eric. Starbuck held on tightly to his stomach contents as he watched other things whirl around the newly formed tornado. Chiefly, he noted that Dibley and the horrible mutaacceeded to his contract demands? WILL Sheba and Apollo ever make up? WHERE is Starbuck headed? WHAT is going on back at the Arcade? For the answers to, hopefully, some of these confusticatingly bothersome questions, be sure to catch the next duodenally contortionalistic episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear Hummer say, "Book 'em, Boom-o!" And Starbuck add, somewhat addled, "Buck'em Book-O!" *********** The Sorceror's Stone From Harry Potter Turns Out To Be A Plastic Fake will not be seen at this time. Instead we present the following Hogwash. *********** On the last exacting episode of The Starbuck Chronicles, Apollo was about to challenge Count Iblis. Foremost on our illustrious Captain's mind was getting his son Boxey out of the evil clutches of Borax, a maniacal, but not very good, shapeshifter, hence the assumed shape of Lieutenant Boomer from knees up and two bleach bottles (scented lemony fresh!) from knees down. Just as our heroic C for the prize money. The last thing I remember, we were in a wormhole heading right for this ship that looked like a giant green bug, when we lost control. Then I woke up here and Athena found me. Thank the Lord several times over for that." He smiled warmly at her. "Then where is Starbuck?" Apollo asked, that familiar niggling sense of duty to his friend tugging at him, despite the fact that the predicament had arisen because of a gambling debt. "Probably on the other side of that fax-machine wormhole thingy we ran into earlier, Apollo," said Athena. "I mean, at least it's a good plot device. "What does that really mean?" asked Peck. "I have no idea." ************************ "Wow!" said Boxey, to Igraine. "Look at this!" "What is it?" "I'm not sure," said the youngster, staring into the fax machine wormhole thingy, as he stood atop the vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker ontion that was formerly known as Mrs. Peel had joined them. Not to mention Count Iblis and Apollo. They all whirled, swirled and twirled their way to (no, not Carl) Sagan knows where... * * * * * "Whoa! We're catching a wave, Boom-Boom! Hang ten, dude!" Hummer exclaimed as he felt the vortex-spanning, sci- fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the `McGarrett Rocks!' sticker on the underside begin to tremble beneath him. "What the frack... ?" Boomer replied, jumping on behind the technician, which was no easy task considering he had been lying supine, crumpled against a wall for at least the last two episodes. Lords, it was a pain-in-the-astrum being a supportive leading man. Not only did he not get his character developed or have a love interest ... except in his dreams, or the VS, but he was also carelessly forgotten, cast aside in favour of other plotlines, often by people who compensated by adding extra vowels to certain words for no explicable reaaptain was about to make his move, the control of his body was seized once again by Siress Belloby and her Divas-R-Us... (See the link on their web page, www.divas-r- us.org/priestesses/Belloby/myrt_the_flirt.html for coupons and membership information.)... due to the mind control device they had implanted some episodes ago. Simultaneously, the dashing Lieutenant Starbuck's body was also consumed by an uncontrollable urge to dance his way far, far from the hideously transfigured Mrs. Peel. As the Starbuck Luck would have it, a winged equine, apparently sent by Miri and Little Buckers (more on that later, possibly), swooped in to carry him away to safety. Unfortunately, also as his typical luck would have it, the saddle was not properly secured, and Starbuck was about to plummet to his... So........... "Buck"le up, hold on to your hats, and have your emesis basin nearby... Just when you thought it was safe to check your email... The Starbuck Chronicles Part 66. * * * * * the underside. "But it looks like Starbuck and a whole bunch of skeletons." "Does he have my child-support payments?" asked Igraine. ************************ "Now what?" Starbuck asked, skidding to a halt as he looked around for another way out. It wasn't looking good. Leto, the giant, menacing, hungry-looking Sandworm, was heading straight for them. "We could follow the sign." Duncan British Columbia suggested, pointing towards a well-hidden alleyway in the wormhole labyrinth with the sign that said, Escape-this way. "Our luck is changing," Starbuck grinned, racing along the pathway. At the end of the passageway was a huge beaded curtain. Duncan brushed it aside and they raced into the... idyllic little seaside town. "How on Kobol did we end up here?" Starbuck muttered. "I don't know, but I think I like it." Duncan replied. A cool ocean breeze blowing gently on their faces, the fresh scent of the salt air, the haunting sound of gulls calling toson. Though , she claimed, her people called it "English". Others, however, dispute this. The sudden storm whipped in through the arcade and swept them through the streets of Cordugo Pit. It whirled them around a parking lot, stopping briefly to twirl them above a mini-shuttle. The door was open and Boomer could see the chartreuse carpeting within. Shocking. "Thocking!" opined Blip. They were torn away once again, down endless twisting corridors. A labyrinth. Amazing really. Boomer held on tightly to Hummer, watching the scenery go by. "Starbuck!" he cried, as he saw his friend swirl away, caught up in the same weather pattern. "Hummer, do you have any control over this thing?" He yelled, the wind carrying his voice in the general direction of Hades Hole. * * * * * "Uh, girls, I think we have a problem." Siress Belloby told them, peering into her crystal ball. "You mean other than the fact that we still need to get Boxey away from Borax, an "Commander, regulations are brutally clear. They've been missing for over... 65 episodes." Colonel Tigh reported quietly on the bridge, checking his chrono, extra pink pages in his back pocket. "I know, Tigh. But, surely there must be a way to delay... " Every yahren showed on Adama's weary face as he ran his hand over it. "I'm sorry, Commander. I've used every available loophole. I've curbed, deferred, discontinued, held off, held over, held up, postponed, put off, shelved, and suspended this moment long enough." He looked around, almost conspiratorially. "I even called Sire Solon. We have to officially report Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck as missing in action." "But they weren't all action scenes, Tigh," reasoned Adama. "Oh yeah?" came Vela's voice, from the next sound- stage. "A few sure as frack were! Woooo. Let me tell you..." Adama nodded, knowing it was true. He'd read the pink pages. * * * * * Iblis' sick, evil, twisted, maligna one another, the town quiet and clean... and the odd decapitated skeleton lying around, its bones picked clean. "Uh... what was that about our luck improving?" Duncan asked the other. "I could possibly be wrong about that," Starbuck returned, as the birds seemed to lift off simultaneously, taking to the air and flying en masse towards them. Strangely, they seemed to spell out 'the Ateam'. "Thanks a lot, Hannibal! Let's get out of here!" "Do you think they're dangerous?" Duncan asked, keeping pace with the Colonial Warrior as he kept an eye on the gulls, and other assorted birds. "Dangerous? Hades hole, I don't know. What I do know is I just had this jacket dry-cleaned!" Starbuck retorted, heading for cover. Together they raced towards the nearest building. Starbuck grabbed the door handle, yanking on it futilely as the birds swarmed around them. "Isn't that a Quetzal?" Duncan asked, as a small green bird with a red breast and incredibly long tail feathers hd that the hero facing the demon is now dancing instead of battling?" Sheba asked in consternation, taking a threatening step towards the shapeshifter, who now appeared as a dark-haired man in a blue suit, but still wore the bleach bottles nevertheless. "We did activate the mind control unit to make him dance." Myrtle mentioned, holding up the remote control. "Remember?" "Why did we do that again?" Vela asked. In hindsight, it seemed kind of stupid. "Pleasure." Myrtle replied, grinning lasciviously, as she carressed the "play" button on her remote, at the memory of Starbuck dancing. "Strategy." Belloby snarled. "It was supposed to throw Iblis off so we could throw open the door and leap in to come to the Captain's assistance." "Throw open the door?" Boxey asked. "Okay." And so he did. A massive surge of air gust through the door, blowing Boxey back into Sheba's waiting arms. "Gotcha!" she cried in relief. The room became a whirlwind as a large bnt, horrid, festering, vile, and really really unpleasant laughter rang throughout the (stygian) depths of Hades Hole, as he watched Apollo's body sway in time to the beat of the band playing on the ridge. (Precisely where this band had come from is a matter of some conjecture in musical and psychopathic circles, but we won't go into it just now.) "It's difficult to take your threats seriously, Captain, when your dancing like an epileptic jumping bean." Apollo growled at the demon, knowing full well that Iblis was right. He looked ridiculous. Why hadn't his parents spent a few cubits on dance lessons instead of sticking him in cadets yahren after yahren as a child? Self- defence, leadership training, strategy, chess club, short- sheeting Athena's bed... what a waste! "Aaarrrrgggghhhh!!!!" abruptly rang out from above them. Apollo looked up, astounded to see a winged equine flying far above them... and the familiar shape of Starbuck plunging down towards them from dizzying heightovered in the air before him. He pulled out a sketch pad, hastily drawing the tropical bird, estimating its measurements and recording them. "Where are we?" "According to the welcome sign with the decomposed body slung over it, we're in Bodega Bay." Starbuck replied sarcastically, shaking the door knob and jumping up and down in frustration. "Wherever that is." Just then, the bird pecked the end of Duncan's nose. "Oww! Open the door!" Screech! replied the bird. "Not you, featherbrain! Starbuck!" "It's locked!" Starbuck yelled, standing back to kick it in as a sharp beak pecked him on the head. "Frack!" He put his hands over his head protectively. Suddenly, the birds retreated, heading back towards the beaded curtain. "Leto!!" Duncan hollered, seeing the sandworm emerging onto Main Street. "Wait a centon," Starbuck paused. "How long is that exactly?" Duncan asked. "Do you think that's really relevant right now?" Starbuck returned. "Weouncing white ball, a he'enalu board, a winged-equine and several people swept into the incredibly small space. The wind suddenly died down and bodies fell, one by one landing on the floor. Boomer jumped to his feet, one of the first to recover. He pulled his blaster and pointed it at Iblis, Dibley, Borax (Korax was conveniently rehearsing another scene, elsewhere), and Baltar, all conveniently positioned beneath the equine. "Don't move!" he shouted, as he noticed Apollo jump to his side, his weapon also drawn. "Book 'em, Boom-o!" Hummer yelled from beneath Belloby's bottom. Starbuck struggled to his feet, his head still swirling from the ride. He shook his head to clear it, taking in the bizarre group of characters before him. He added, somewhat addled, "Buck'em Book-O!" "Oh, yeah!" said Cassie. Then he dropped to the floor once again, just as Rover settled to the ground, and the Butler Guy got off. He went to Starbuck. Aspirin? * * * * * "Bll, if it was just a meaningless phrase, then no, but if you really wanted me to wait a centon, then I really do need to know how long it is," Duncan explained testily. "I'm beginning to understand why the worm keeps killing you. You start to get on a guy's nerves after a while," Starbuck retorted. "Wait a minute. Look!" Duncan pointed to Leto. "How long is that exact...ummphh!" Starbuck choked as Duncan backhanded him in the gut. "Meaningless phrase?" The Lieutenant gasped. "Exactly." Meanwhile, the sandworm was being attacked by the flock of birds. Pieces of flesh were torn off as thousands of birds dove on the God-Emperor. The worm writhed, roaring in pain. "Eww." Duncan turned up his nose. "Yuck." Starbuck added. "Looks like you're going to need a new God-Emperor." "Yeah. I wonder what Senmut's doing?" "And we better get the Hades Hole out of here. Know anyplace safe?" "Ummm.....Lake Ogopogo?" "Where?" "I had to get thats... which was the only reason he hadn't hit bottom yet and gone splat, of course. Apollo said a silent prayer to God, all the Lords of Kobol and that saucy little goddess of Luck that Starbuck mentioned every so often (usually after cleaning up at Table III on the Rising Star, or coming out of Cassie's quarters with a grin on his face), as he watched the equine swoop back down towards his friend. * * * * * The wind swirled around Starbuck and his stomach felt as though it was doing its best to climb back up out of his abdomen and into his mouth, as he gazed in terror at the hastily approaching stygian ground. He was vaguely aware of the winged-equine swooping in to try and break his fall, but he was equally aware that with the combination of their trajectories and velocities, they weren't going to connect. Suddenly, the wind picked up again, seemingly tearing at his clothes... after all, no one else had for at least a couple episodes. In fact, it was a wonder of wondeloody Hades Hole!" shouted Sire Uri. "Who'se gonna clean up this mess?" WHO will be cleaning up the mess? WHERE are Apollo and Starbuck headed on the winged beast? HOW did Hummer manage to recover so quickly? WHO is Borax's new form? WHO is "Little Buckers"? HOW did our heroes get their pistols back? WHERE is Mrs. Peel now? WILL Starbuck recover? DOES the aspirin offered to him have bufferin in it?(He's got a sensitive tummy, remember?) WILL Eric write his current VS episode any faster? WHERE did the (big, jazz, or salsa?) band come from? For the answers to these, and numerous other pointless questions, be sure and catch the next sub-Belloby posterior episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in when we'll hear Sire Uri say, "I never drink...wine!" ======= Lawrence Of Arabia Gets Stuck In The Rain will not be seen at this time. In its place we present the following muck. ======= The room was white. Life Center white. Sterile, antiseptic, cold, stark, blinding in. Lisa said so." "Oh." Starbuck paused, picking up his datapad as it beeped. He glanced at it. "Correction, Okanagan Lake. Apparently, Ogopogo hangs there. The lake, however, isn't named after him." "Bit of a rip-off, don't you think? After all, his cousin the Loch Ness Monster lives in Loch Ness." "Tell it to the Canadians. They probably didn't want him to get too big-headed." Starbuck looked at the datapad again. "Apparently, it's a wine region." "Canadians?" "Yeah." "Musta missed those." "I'll drink to that!" "I get the idea that you'll drink to anything," Duncan grinned. "After the last eighty-one episodes..." "Let's go." WILL Starbuck and Duncan escape from the mysterious Bodega Bay? CAN they survive the homicidal birds, as well as the fearsome God-Emperor Leto? WOULD Senmut make a good replacement God-Emperor? (Damn right! BOW!) WHY are some of the skeletons decapitated? WHERE will Faceman get the money to repay hr... a miracle of miracles... that his clothing had remained intact after miraculously reappearing after his strip tease in Divas-R-Us. But, I digress... The winged-equine neighed, uncharacteristically, also feeling the power and fury of the sudden gust of nature. Starbuck began to feel like he was in a centrifuge... and I can't even begin to tell you what that was doing to his stomach. Oh, bloody Hades! Starbuck could hear the equine think, as if this was merely an inconvenience for the curiosity of nature. Yes, Nature's Fury was back. The cyclone that had departed the VS episode, seemingly temporarily, had in fact mutinied and turned into a tornado, finding the entire experience of being the ONLY featured weather system in a story rather satisfying... in a purely egomaniacal kind of way. Sorry Eric. Starbuck held on tightly to his stomach contents as he watched other things whirl around the newly formed tornado. Chiefly, he noted that Dibley and the horrible muta white. He wasn't sure how he had come to be lying in the middle of the room, especially dressed like he was. In direct contrast to the room, he was outfitted in black leather. Boots, pants, jacket and even gloves. It fit him like a second skin. But where had it come from? The last thing he remembered, he had been in Hades Hole riding, or rather falling off of, a winged-equine and was just about to plunge to his (stygian) death when suddenly he was swept away by a tornado. Actually, that didn't sound very damn plausible, now that he thought about it. Lords, what had he been drinking last night? "Anybody here?" he asked as he sat back on his heels, taking a better look around. There was something very eerie about this place. That, and the fact everything was in black-and- white. He climbed to his feet, noting the way the soft, smooth leather moved against his skin. Hades, it was almost erotic. Well, in a `you're totally-alone-in-a-strange- and-eeris comrades? DID Lisa really say I had to mention Ogopogo? WHEN will Apollo sober up? IS Athena doomed to be a chocoholic forever? WHAT exactly are Amy and Chameleon doing in the back of the vehicle? WHERE are the rest of the characters? DOES Baltar really wear a rug? HOW the Hades Hole did we ever get into this mess in the first place? WASN'T this Maggie's idea? For the answers to these and probably a lot more interogativiferous superfluities, be sureto catch the next wet-seal laser welding episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear Amy say, "Well, they were around here somewhere!" ======= Columbo Gets A New Raincoat will not be seen at this time. I'm not sure why, it just won't. In its place, we present the following program. Believe me, just getting it here was murder! When last we left our heroes, they were pretty upset about it. So, here we go. I hope everyone remembers where we were! But don't feel badly if you don't. We didn't either. tion that was formerly known as Mrs. Peel had joined them. Not to mention Count Iblis and Apollo. They all whirled, swirled and twirled their way to (no, not Carl) Sagan knows where... * * * * * "Whoa! We're catching a wave, Boom-Boom! Hang ten, dude!" Hummer exclaimed as he felt the vortex-spanning, sci- fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the `McGarrett Rocks!' sticker on the underside begin to tremble beneath him. "What the frack... ?" Boomer replied, jumping on behind the technician, which was no easy task considering he had been lying supine, crumpled against a wall for at least the last two episodes. Lords, it was a pain-in-the-astrum being a supportive leading man. Not only did he not get his character developed or have a love interest ... except in his dreams, or the VS, but he was also carelessly forgotten, cast aside in favour of other plotlines, often by people who compensated by adding extra vowels to certain words for no explicable reaie-environment-and-you're-having-sudden- inexplicable- sexual-urges', kind of way. But then again, he was like that. Especially after a decided lack of sexual activity over the course of 66 episodes. Frack, he was practically a cenobite. Which was, he reflected, decidedly better than being a trilobite. Although their sex-life was similarly paced. "Hello!" he tried again. It was reminiscent of the Ship of Lights in a way, everything white and hazy. It certainly wasn't stygian. And there were certainly no advanced beings here trying to evasively guide him on a path of goodness or to help to make sense of the craziness of life. At least none were in evidence. He seemed to be totally alone. That, more than anything else, was the disturbing part. * * * * * "Your feeble weapons do not work on me!" Iblis mocked the Warriors, as he twirled his index finger and the equine rose slowly into the air, suspended above the formerly trapped bad guys. "You are hel The Starbuck Chronicles Part 83 By the usual suspects "Okay, so what we have to do is figure out how to get Templeton Peck here back to the Bizarre and Inexplicable Interdimensional Realm he was in, so he can enter the Perambulator 500 with Starbuck." Apollo paced back and forth as Face nodded, apparently paying attention, while he simultaneously nuzzled Athena's neck. "Then I figure that however you two seemed to switch places, just might correct itself, and you'll get back to Earth, and we'll get Starbuck back." The Earthman-that really did look like Starbuck's double-murmured quietly to Athena, causing her to blush prettily. "Are you with me, Peck?" "One hundred percent," Face replied, then paused, cocking his head to the side and brushing Athena's hair back from her face. "Well... maybe that's an exaggeration." He smiled at her and took her slender fingers, threading his through hers before raising them to his lips and kissing them gently. "Uh... what if I decson. Though , she claimed, her people called it "English". Others, however, dispute this. The sudden storm whipped in through the arcade and swept them through the streets of Cordugo Pit. It whirled them around a parking lot, stopping briefly to twirl them above a mini-shuttle. The door was open and Boomer could see the chartreuse carpeting within. Shocking. "Thocking!" opined Blip. They were torn away once again, down endless twisting corridors. A labyrinth. Amazing really. Boomer held on tightly to Hummer, watching the scenery go by. "Starbuck!" he cried, as he saw his friend swirl away, caught up in the same weather pattern. "Hummer, do you have any control over this thing?" He yelled, the wind carrying his voice in the general direction of Hades Hole. * * * * * "Uh, girls, I think we have a problem." Siress Belloby told them, peering into her crystal ball. "You mean other than the fact that we still need to get Boxey away from Borax, anpless before my awesome powers! Bwahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" The beast began to flap its wings, trying to futilely regain control, but Iblis maintained his power over the equine and with a twist of his wrist had it flying loop-the- loops over the (stygian) river. The beast neighed in fury and humiliation, neither of which languages I know, so I can't report what he said. "Bloody good work, bruvver!" Dibley cried as he brushed the equine hair off his robes. "Hallo Ladies!" he gushed as he noticed the collection of attractive females amassed nearby. Alarmingly though, too many of them were hovering over the still prostrate Lieutenant, who, so it seemed, was out-cold. "Something's wrong." (Oh really? No kidding? Thanks!) "His heart rate is incredibly low. His pupils aren't reacting to my illuminator." Cassie commented as she checked Starbuck over. Just her luck, she finally makes it into a couple episodes, only to have her man unconscious and having a strange physiologicalide I don't want to go back? After all, I kind of like it here." Athena smiled beautifully then, and the Universe seemed to stand still. No doubt about it, the Faceman was in love. "But we need Starbuck back." Apollo replied. "We need him!" "Why?" Face asked. "Well... these are the Starbuck Chronicles, after all," Apollo attempted to explain. "We need a Starbuck. After all, there has to be a next episode." "Why?" asked Athena. "It gives the writers a chance to go out into left field." Apollo explained. "They've been out there a long time, brother." Athena returned. "Yeah, they're out of hotdogs, the stands are empty, and everyone's gone home." Face nodded. "All the same, we have to keep up the premise that someone is reading this." "Do we really?" "Of course!" said Faceman, indignantly. "Why?" "Because the Network contract stipulates a certain number of eps, Mar....Athena. We're contractually obligated.d that the hero facing the demon is now dancing instead of battling?" Sheba asked in consternation, taking a threatening step towards the shapeshifter, who now appeared as a dark-haired man in a blue suit, but still wore the bleach bottles nevertheless. "We did activate the mind control unit to make him dance." Myrtle mentioned, holding up the remote control. "Remember?" "Why did we do that again?" Vela asked. In hindsight, it seemed kind of stupid. "Pleasure." Myrtle replied, grinning lasciviously, as she carressed the "play" button on her remote, at the memory of Starbuck dancing. "Strategy." Belloby snarled. "It was supposed to throw Iblis off so we could throw open the door and leap in to come to the Captain's assistance." "Throw open the door?" Boxey asked. "Okay." And so he did. A massive surge of air gust through the door, blowing Boxey back into Sheba's waiting arms. "Gotcha!" she cried in relief. The room became a whirlwind as a large b reaction. "You mean he has students?" asked Dibley. "Can it, Dibs!' snarled Belloby. "NO!!" cried Iblis, staring at the latest re-writes, suddenly losing his hold on the beast as it flexed its mighty wings once again, rising above them all in splendor before disappearing from sight. He did, however, leave a little something for Iblis. Or maybe alot of something. "What is it Iblis? What scares you so?" Apollo snarled as he joined the group of women, his son at his side. "It can't be! They wouldn't chose him! Of all people, they wouldn't chose a depraved, selfish, conceited, egotistical, self-centered, cynical, randy sex-toy, with high self-esteem." Iblis raved. "Other than me." "How did you know...?" Cassie asked, abruptly feeling every micron of Starbuck's absence. "I know everything. I see everything. I am... everything." Iblis spread his hands wide expressively, his overall importance clearly communicated. Plop! "Aaaaaaaaaarrrrrrghhh!!!" "Then shouldn't Lisa and Sen be getting paid for this?" Apollo asked. "With what? Stale hotdog buns and rotten onions?" Face returned. "They might take them." Athena inserted. "I heard that Sen likes onions." Apollo shrugged, seemingly considering it. "Like I said..." "Well, aren't there Starbuck Chronicles in that other space-time continuum where Starbuck is prancing around, probably being mistaken as me?" Face grinned then, as he imagined BA reacting to the brash Colonial Warrior that these people had described to him. It would definitely be worth seeing. But imagining would have to do for now. "Uh... well... how would I know that? That's another dimension, after all. Maybe they're the Templeton Peck Chronicles." Apollo shrugged, wondering how he'd been sucked into the vortex of this seemingly irrelevant conversation. Not of course that most of them, since episode one, had been all that relevant. Was it something in the air? The (stygian) depthouncing white ball, a he'enalu board, a winged-equine and several people swept into the incredibly small space. The wind suddenly died down and bodies fell, one by one landing on the floor. Boomer jumped to his feet, one of the first to recover. He pulled his blaster and pointed it at Iblis, Dibley, Borax (Korax was conveniently rehearsing another scene, elsewhere), and Baltar, all conveniently positioned beneath the equine. "Don't move!" he shouted, as he noticed Apollo jump to his side, his weapon also drawn. "Book 'em, Boom-o!" Hummer yelled from beneath Belloby's bottom. Starbuck struggled to his feet, his head still swirling from the ride. He shook his head to clear it, taking in the bizarre group of characters before him. He added, somewhat addled, "Buck'em Book-O!" "Oh, yeah!" said Cassie. Then he dropped to the floor once again, just as Rover settled to the ground, and the Butler Guy got off. He went to Starbuck. Aspirin? * * * * * "B!!!!!!!!!!!" roared Iblis, as the equine's parting gift reached him. "I...I...!!!!!!!!!!" "You really ought to go lie down," said Boxey to the demon. "You look pooped!" * * * * * "Okay, this is getting old really fast!!" Starbuck yelled, the sound echoing back at him. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!!" he added, more to amuse himself than because he thought it would do any good. Strangely though, it seemed to work. Forms began to materialize around him. All of them women. They closed on him, each of them wearing a leer on their otherwise attractive features. "Uh... haven't we done this scene already?" Starbuck asked, wondering if these ladies belonged to Divas- R-Us or the League of Luscious Lecherous Lascivious Ladies. "No", one of them drawled, her particular accent striking Starbuck as charming. It almost sounded Oklatexan, by his reckoning. "This is a new plot line. This one's for the ladies, Bucko. Check your pink pages, okay?" "Uh... righs of Hades Hole he'd been to? The flower pollen on Cordugo Pit that the air filters didn't seem to catch? "How could we find out?" "Well, we could email up the A-team fanfiction list and see if such a thing exists, I suppose. I hear that Fingers might know the addy. But-believe me, Captain-I think I'd already be aware of it, if that was the case," Face assured him. "How did he manage to get himself his own Chronicle, anyhow?" Whatever this Starbuck had, he'd like to scam himself some. After all, there can be only one! "I don't even want to talk about it," Apollo replied, wondering-not for the first time-why he was once again trying to bail Starbuck out of yet another predicament. Maybe it was time to just let him take responsibility for his own actions for a change. He glanced at Peck's hands, one which seemed to be surgically attached to Athena's astrum, the other...somewhat higher up, and oddly enough, she didn't seem to mind. Then again, if he didn't get Starbuck back, he'dloody Hades Hole!" shouted Sire Uri. "Who'se gonna clean up this mess?" WHO will be cleaning up the mess? WHERE are Apollo and Starbuck headed on the winged beast? HOW did Hummer manage to recover so quickly? WHO is Borax's new form? WHO is "Little Buckers"? HOW did our heroes get their pistols back? WHERE is Mrs. Peel now? WILL Starbuck recover? DOES the aspirin offered to him have bufferin in it?(He's got a sensitive tummy, remember?) WILL Eric write his current VS episode any faster? WHERE did the (big, jazz, or salsa?) band come from? For the answers to these, and numerous other pointless questions, be sure and catch the next sub-Belloby posterior episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in when we'll hear Sire Uri say, "I never drink...wine!" ======= Lawrence Of Arabia Gets Stuck In The Rain will not be seen at this time. In its place we present the following muck. ======= The room was white. Life Center white. Sterile, antiseptic, cold, stark, blindingt." He did so. Umm...it says I'm in the Village...Oh, wrong side." He read some more, nodding. "Okay, is that why I'm decked out in black leather?" He asked, not in the least bit intimidated by them. In fact, he thought they were the most intriguing group of ladies he had ever met. "Oh yeah!" they replied in chorus, their eyes raking him from head to toe. "Uh, would you mind turning around. I'll really like to take a closer look." another asked, her accent somewhat BCbertan, winking at him suggestively. He grinned in reply, turning slowly in a circle, hearing their sighs and mutterings of appreciation and then sidled up next to her. "How's this for closer?" he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. "Hmm. Very nice." She murmured just before his lips brushed against hers. "Hey, stop hogging him." another protested, her accent vaguely Edmoronto, although Lisa insists it was closer to Washitoma. Myself, I'm dubious, but I digress... "Don' be stuck with this Starbuck look-alike who seemed far too fond of his sister, and vice versa. "Besides, if we don't get Starbuck back, you're going to have to take over his duties. We're short enough in the service as it is." "His duties?" Face asked, trying to care what those might be. "What...duties?" "Well, he's been AWOL for almost..." Apollo glanced at his chrono. "Nigh on three yahrens, give or take a few sectars, I guess. Whenever these crazy chrons began. I believe Commander Adama has a sanitation barge or two that he wants to assign Starbuck-or the person who looks most like him-to, for the next three yahrens. The space grunge has really been building up something fierce..." "Give or take a few sectars..." Face muttered, suddenly wondering where this straight-looking guy-who really needed a decent haircut-had learned his scamming skills from. "Okay, let's head to the wormhole. That should get us back." "You just suddenly remembered where the wormhole is?" Apo white. He wasn't sure how he had come to be lying in the middle of the room, especially dressed like he was. In direct contrast to the room, he was outfitted in black leather. Boots, pants, jacket and even gloves. It fit him like a second skin. But where had it come from? The last thing he remembered, he had been in Hades Hole riding, or rather falling off of, a winged-equine and was just about to plunge to his (stygian) death when suddenly he was swept away by a tornado. Actually, that didn't sound very damn plausible, now that he thought about it. Lords, what had he been drinking last night? "Anybody here?" he asked as he sat back on his heels, taking a better look around. There was something very eerie about this place. That, and the fact everything was in black-and- white. He climbed to his feet, noting the way the soft, smooth leather moved against his skin. Hades, it was almost erotic. Well, in a `you're totally-alone-in-a-strange- and-eert you mean `porcining' him?" a further suggested with a laugh. More like a snort, really. Maybe kind of like a porcine snort? Anyway... "Now, now, ladies. Remember why we're here. We have to whip him..." and here she had to stop and wipe her mouth, "into shape to go up against Iblis. Good against evil, mortal against immortal, pseudo-British accent against American." the Oklatexan reminded them... at the same time allowing herself to bobby a feel. "Hmm." Starbuck grinned, fumerello suddenly in one hand, as she ran her hand across his leather-clad astrum. "Just... who are you ladies?" "Well, for the sake of simplicity, just call us the Starbuckians." "Well, I could go for that," grinned the Viper pilot. "I just have one question. How come you're all in black and white? * * * * * "No, thank you," said Sire Uri, out of the fairway with Larson, Bellisario, and Moore. "I never drink...wine." "I see," said Lucifer. "I wonder where Baltar is." "I can't illo asked, pleased with the results of his threat. Maybe this meant he wouldn't have to do the roster this secton after all... "I've had an amazing moment of clarity,." Face replied reasonably. "I was hoping you might." Apollo nodded. "Besides, I want to check out the lingerie sale," said Athena. "Sire Uri does always seem to have the best." "Oh God," sighed Apollo, shaking his head. "Just.....oh God." ======= "A-6." "Hit." "A-5." "Hit." "A-4." "Aw, you sunk my battleship!" Chameleon whined in the back of the van. He glanced around as he took another breadstick. "Where did the boys go? I thought they'd be back with Starbuck by now." "Well, they were around here somewhere!" Amy exclaimed, resetting her pieces. That done, she reset the board. "Okay, your turn, Cham." "E-8." "Miss." ======= Starbuck stepped out of the wormhole, smiling slightly as the sun shone down upon hisie-environment-and-you're-having-sudden- inexplicable- sexual-urges', kind of way. But then again, he was like that. Especially after a decided lack of sexual activity over the course of 66 episodes. Frack, he was practically a cenobite. Which was, he reflected, decidedly better than being a trilobite. Although their sex-life was similarly paced. "Hello!" he tried again. It was reminiscent of the Ship of Lights in a way, everything white and hazy. It certainly wasn't stygian. And there were certainly no advanced beings here trying to evasively guide him on a path of goodness or to help to make sense of the craziness of life. At least none were in evidence. He seemed to be totally alone. That, more than anything else, was the disturbing part. * * * * * "Your feeble weapons do not work on me!" Iblis mocked the Warriors, as he twirled his index finger and the equine rose slowly into the air, suspended above the formerly trapped bad guys. "You are helmagine," said Moore, trying to fish his contacts out of the vermouth cassis he was holding. * * * * * Iblis glared malevolently at Boxey, his eyes ablaze with demonic wrath. Never had he suffered such humiliation! And now, for a mere...mere Human boy to compound it like this.....He raised one hand, fingers crackling with unholy energies. This whelp would suffer. All of them (once he got cleaned up) would suffer for his... Oooooofff!!!!!! Iblis went sprawling, to crash into and then bounce off of Rover, as the space behind him suddenly ripped open, and Athena, through no mechanism or motivation that makes much sense, sailed through, slamming into Iblis' back. She rolled off of him, and skidded across the ground, to stop in front of Hummer, who was just managing to exit being under Belloby. Hummer said: "What a rush, dude!" "That's my line!" protested Boomer. "Athena!" said Apollo, "you're okay. What's been happening?" "I'd like to know that, too!" saipless before my awesome powers! Bwahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" The beast began to flap its wings, trying to futilely regain control, but Iblis maintained his power over the equine and with a twist of his wrist had it flying loop-the- loops over the (stygian) river. The beast neighed in fury and humiliation, neither of which languages I know, so I can't report what he said. "Bloody good work, bruvver!" Dibley cried as he brushed the equine hair off his robes. "Hallo Ladies!" he gushed as he noticed the collection of attractive females amassed nearby. Alarmingly though, too many of them were hovering over the still prostrate Lieutenant, who, so it seemed, was out-cold. "Something's wrong." (Oh really? No kidding? Thanks!) "His heart rate is incredibly low. His pupils aren't reacting to my illuminator." Cassie commented as she checked Starbuck over. Just her luck, she finally makes it into a couple episodes, only to have her man unconscious and having a strange physiological face. The view was spectacular as he gazed upon a crystal clear lake nestled amongst vineyards. Lords, how long had it been since he had taken a breather from the rigours of the Chrons and had just enjoyed a little R & R? Duncan British Columbia had promised that this land of Wine and Ogopogo would be a safe and gentle harbour for their weary bodies to recuperate in. For the first time in ages, Starbuck was beginning to believe that he wouldn't have to spend the next scene running like a maniac trying to escape whatever hideous embodiment of animosity the writers were going to throw at him. Or maybe some monsters, if Siress Belloby wasn't available... Duncan was ahead of him, eager to rediscover this region of the Universe. He had been especially excited about Ogopogo-though Starbuck was a little unclear on what that actually was. Yeah, the truth was, he'd come for the booze. The Colonial Warrior dropped down onto the soft, green grass, stretching out and laughing as Duncan d Blip, a piece of chartreuse carpeting in his hand. "You people keep tearing up all the temporal barrierth in my arcade. How'm I thupposed to run a buthineth that way?" "Uhh...dunno," said Belloby. "Charge them rent!" said Baltar. "Book 'em," said Borax, still in the blue suit and black hair. The bleach bottles had transmogrified by this point to oversized flower-print sandles, so I guess he was making progress. Good. All good, said the Butler guy. Anyway, as Athena opened her mouth to fulfill Apollo's request, the very sky of Hades Hole began to split apart. Myriad voices broke through, some she recognized, and some not. There were images of the Commander back on the ship, Tigh at his side, Lucifer on the golf course with Moore, and Starbuck surrounded by yet more scantily clad ladies. The images of a tall man wearing buckskins and coonskin cap, splitting oak trees with an ax, or the large bare-chested warrior hacking away at various evil-looking creatures with a reaction. "You mean he has students?" asked Dibley. "Can it, Dibs!' snarled Belloby. "NO!!" cried Iblis, staring at the latest re-writes, suddenly losing his hold on the beast as it flexed its mighty wings once again, rising above them all in splendor before disappearing from sight. He did, however, leave a little something for Iblis. Or maybe alot of something. "What is it Iblis? What scares you so?" Apollo snarled as he joined the group of women, his son at his side. "It can't be! They wouldn't chose him! Of all people, they wouldn't chose a depraved, selfish, conceited, egotistical, self-centered, cynical, randy sex-toy, with high self-esteem." Iblis raved. "Other than me." "How did you know...?" Cassie asked, abruptly feeling every micron of Starbuck's absence. "I know everything. I see everything. I am... everything." Iblis spread his hands wide expressively, his overall importance clearly communicated. Plop! "Aaaaaaaaaarrrrrrghhh!!!whooped and then clicked his heels together before peeling off a couple layers of clothes on the run, then diving into Okanogan Lake. "Come on in, Starbuck!" Duncan yelled back at the Warrior. "The water's beautiful!" "Not to mention wet, Duncan. Nah, that sounds too much like exercise to me!" Starbuck returned, startling as the Butler guy suddenly handed him a glass of wine. A Parducci's pinot noir, vintage 1988. "Thanks. Where did you come from?" The Butler Guy held up a sign. The Unemployment Office. "Ah. Well, keep them coming, buddy." Starbuck returned, dropping a few cubits on his tray. The Butler Guy bit down on the coin, nodded gratefully and left. Starbuck took a deep breath, breathing in the clean air and again appreciating the moment. It was almost too perfect. "AHHH!!!!" Starbuck jumped to his feet as he heard Duncan's scream. He ran towards the water's edge as an enormous sea serpent appeared, rearing its head, with Duncan blood-spattered broadsword made, of course, no sense to her whatsoever, but we thought we'd keep you fully informed, regardless. "Hey!" said another voice. It was Igraine, surrounded by all Vela's other kids. "Would you folks hop back through the vortex, and be quick about it? We've got a Tribunal date with Sire Solon. Ya wanna get slapped with a FTA?" * * * * * "Oh, and one other thing," added Starbuck. "Why is there an altar with a dagger on it in here?" WHY is there an altar next to Starbuck? HOW did Igraine open the vortex? (Or did she?) WILL Iblis get cleaned up anytime soon? WHAT about Dibley and the rest of the baddies? WHY was Blip holding a piece of chartreuse carpeting? CAN Moore ever find his contact in his drink? WILL Lucifer find Baltar? (and why?) WILL they make it back to the Galactica before Colonel Tigh recieves more re- writes? WHY is everything Starbuck sees in black-and-white? WILL he finally get any? WHY doesn't Sire Uri drink...wine? For the ans!!!!!!!!!!!" roared Iblis, as the equine's parting gift reached him. "I...I...!!!!!!!!!!" "You really ought to go lie down," said Boxey to the demon. "You look pooped!" * * * * * "Okay, this is getting old really fast!!" Starbuck yelled, the sound echoing back at him. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!!" he added, more to amuse himself than because he thought it would do any good. Strangely though, it seemed to work. Forms began to materialize around him. All of them women. They closed on him, each of them wearing a leer on their otherwise attractive features. "Uh... haven't we done this scene already?" Starbuck asked, wondering if these ladies belonged to Divas- R-Us or the League of Luscious Lecherous Lascivious Ladies. "No", one of them drawled, her particular accent striking Starbuck as charming. It almost sounded Oklatexan, by his reckoning. "This is a new plot line. This one's for the ladies, Bucko. Check your pink pages, okay?" "Uh... righwers to these and a mong-load of other questions that have nothing whatsoever to do with either Ni-Cad batteries or re-runs of Johnny Quest, don't miss (in other words, shoot straight!) the next post-metabolic biomass impacted episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear the huge muscle-bound warrior say, "Ve zhall zee!" ======= The Dukes Of Hazzard Line Up For Gas will not be seen at this time. In its place, we present the following show, which will probably tank. ======= When last we left our heroes, Count Iblis had been dumped on by the flying equus, Hummer was trying to get everyone back to the ship, Sire Solon was waiting to begin the Tribunal on Apollo being a dead-beat dad, Starbuck was dreaming (or was he?), and there were a lot of hot, pneumatic-bosomed babes in evidence. Glad you approve. So, here we go with the next salubriously monotonous episode of the Starbuck Chronicles. (We'll get to the end of this thing, eventually, folks. Promise!) t." He did so. Umm...it says I'm in the Village...Oh, wrong side." He read some more, nodding. "Okay, is that why I'm decked out in black leather?" He asked, not in the least bit intimidated by them. In fact, he thought they were the most intriguing group of ladies he had ever met. "Oh yeah!" they replied in chorus, their eyes raking him from head to toe. "Uh, would you mind turning around. I'll really like to take a closer look." another asked, her accent somewhat BCbertan, winking at him suggestively. He grinned in reply, turning slowly in a circle, hearing their sighs and mutterings of appreciation and then sidled up next to her. "How's this for closer?" he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. "Hmm. Very nice." She murmured just before his lips brushed against hers. "Hey, stop hogging him." another protested, her accent vaguely Edmoronto, although Lisa insists it was closer to Washitoma. Myself, I'm dubious, but I digress... "Don'British Columbia firmly entrenched in its jaws. Abruptly, it swallowed, and Starbuck heard an enormous gulp, followed by a belch. Duncan was gone. "Holy frack..." Starbuck muttered as the sea serpent-or lake serpent, as it were-disappeared beneath the gentle ripples of water. It was almost surreal. "There he is, Hannibal!" Hannibal? Starbuck turned to see Hannibal, BA and Murdock heading straight for him. "What are you doing here?" he mumbled, in a state of shock. "We have to get you back to the Interdimensional Chancery, Starbuck. The Perambulator 500 is about to begin!" Hannibal explained, taking the young man's arm and guiding him back towards the wormhole. Starbuck paused, looking back at the deceptive stillness and beauty of the lake. "Duncan's gone." "I know, kid. It was in the script." Hannibal squeezed his shoulder. "The Network wouldn't spring for any more cast. C'mon, we have a race to win." ======= "Right ha *************** "So this is what the altar is for." Starbuck murmured, feeling very much as though he was being worshipped by the ladies... nay, goddesses surrounding him. Their hands were all over him, stroking his skin as they slowly, teasingly, removed the leathers. One of them nibbled on his left index finger after removing the gloves. "Lords... " He tried to sit up and embrace her, but she gently pushed him back down. "Don't worry, Starbuck. We'll take care of you." He sighed, surrendering to their ministrations. The Oklatexan leaned over him, whispering in his ear. "This is to give you strength." She kissed him deeply. /Give me strength/!, he thought as his arms pulled her close. He could still feel the tantalizing touch of the others as they continued to caress him. It was incredibly erotic having a group of women undress him as another kissed him passionately. His boot dropped to the ground. "Now, now, remember you have to share." A pointed tap on the st you mean `porcining' him?" a further suggested with a laugh. More like a snort, really. Maybe kind of like a porcine snort? Anyway... "Now, now, ladies. Remember why we're here. We have to whip him..." and here she had to stop and wipe her mouth, "into shape to go up against Iblis. Good against evil, mortal against immortal, pseudo-British accent against American." the Oklatexan reminded them... at the same time allowing herself to bobby a feel. "Hmm." Starbuck grinned, fumerello suddenly in one hand, as she ran her hand across his leather-clad astrum. "Just... who are you ladies?" "Well, for the sake of simplicity, just call us the Starbuckians." "Well, I could go for that," grinned the Viper pilot. "I just have one question. How come you're all in black and white? * * * * * "No, thank you," said Sire Uri, out of the fairway with Larson, Bellisario, and Moore. "I never drink...wine." "I see," said Lucifer. "I wonder where Baltar is." "I can't ind, blue." Baltar held his breath as he reached for the closest blue circle with his right hand, coming close to losing his balance as his body pitched precariously to the side. "Left foot, green." "Tell me, Baltar," Lucifer asked, as he watched the Centurion extend his foot through Baltar's legs until it settled on a green circle. "Is that a rug you're wearing?" "Right foot, red." Baltar grunted, twisting his body over hard as his foot sought out the red dot. Damn, but it was difficult playing Twister with Centurions who cheated and went for a lube job and extensor refit before they started. "What of it?" he snarled. Why did he ever decide to pass on another night at the Lost Souls' Bar, Grill and Exotic Booze Emporium for this? "Well, I was just thinking, that with all the Cylon currency, in both fuel and overtime, spent on pursuing the Colonials, that perhaps the Imperious Leader could have sprung for a better one. One more... natural looking. houlder had the Oklatexan withdrawing reluctantly. The Washatoman took her place, staring intently into Starbuck's eyes before leaning down. "This is to give you courage," she murmured before nipping his lower lip and then kissing him as she ran her hand through his hair." He wasn't sure why she thought he /needed/ courage, but his enjoyment of the moment soon erased that train of thought. He felt another boot pulled off. "My turn." The Washatoman pulled back, an self-satisfied grin on her face. "Are you having as much fun as I am?" she asked him. "More." He winked at her as he felt hands pull him to a sitting position and the leather jacket, which was now completely open, was eased off his shoulders. Another woman leaned in for a kiss. Starbuck sighed as he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her thoroughly. Lords, he must have died and found paradise. If he'd only known it was this good, he would have jumped off a winged-equine ages ago... or something like thamagine," said Moore, trying to fish his contacts out of the vermouth cassis he was holding. * * * * * Iblis glared malevolently at Boxey, his eyes ablaze with demonic wrath. Never had he suffered such humiliation! And now, for a mere...mere Human boy to compound it like this.....He raised one hand, fingers crackling with unholy energies. This whelp would suffer. All of them (once he got cleaned up) would suffer for his... Oooooofff!!!!!! Iblis went sprawling, to crash into and then bounce off of Rover, as the space behind him suddenly ripped open, and Athena, through no mechanism or motivation that makes much sense, sailed through, slamming into Iblis' back. She rolled off of him, and skidded across the ground, to stop in front of Hummer, who was just managing to exit being under Belloby. Hummer said: "What a rush, dude!" "That's my line!" protested Boomer. "Athena!" said Apollo, "you're okay. What's been happening?" "I'd like to know that, too!" saiLess defined by the glaring difference in hair colour." "It's guaranteed to stay on in a vortex." Baltar returned, believing that this feature alone atoned for the poor colour match. "We don't get many vortices on a BaseShip," Lucifer observed. "Left hand, yellow." The Cylon extended its hand completely around its body twice before placing it on a yellow dot. "Now you're just showing off," Baltar accused him. "Right foot, yellow." There was no possible way he could... Baltar stretched, and reached, feeling the sweat running off his brow as his arms shook tremulously, attempting to hold up his weight. He really had to cut back on the mushies! Just another milli-metron... he reached with his boot, feeling as though his hip would dislocate... then he abruptly collapsed on the deck, upsetting the Cylon and causing it to collapse atop him. Abruptly, his hairpiece shifted, falling in his eyes. "Get off, you fool!" "By your command." "A st. She drew back from him. "Skill," she grinned at him. "Thanks. You're not so bad yourself." He replied, absolutely loving them all. "Ahem." The BCbertan was standing at the foot of the altar tapping her foot, and wetting her lower lip as she watched him. She kneeled on the altar and crawled over his body until she was straddling his waist. "Pay attention now, Bucko. This is for numinous powers to defeat the Prince of Darkness." She leaned down, briefly grinning at his bemused expression, before claiming his lips with her own. A strange tingling was penetrating his body... and not /just /in the usual places. He did feel powerful. It was as if each kiss filled him with an inspiring energy. Now this `defeat the Prince of Darkness' thing was a bit much, sure, but if she wanted to work in a little fantasy of her own, he wasn't about to dissuade her. Once again he felt another woman draw back from him. She grinned at him and leaned in for one more kiss. "Hey!" Anotd Blip, a piece of chartreuse carpeting in his hand. "You people keep tearing up all the temporal barrierth in my arcade. How'm I thupposed to run a buthineth that way?" "Uhh...dunno," said Belloby. "Charge them rent!" said Baltar. "Book 'em," said Borax, still in the blue suit and black hair. The bleach bottles had transmogrified by this point to oversized flower-print sandles, so I guess he was making progress. Good. All good, said the Butler guy. Anyway, as Athena opened her mouth to fulfill Apollo's request, the very sky of Hades Hole began to split apart. Myriad voices broke through, some she recognized, and some not. There were images of the Commander back on the ship, Tigh at his side, Lucifer on the golf course with Moore, and Starbuck surrounded by yet more scantily clad ladies. The images of a tall man wearing buckskins and coonskin cap, splitting oak trees with an ax, or the large bare-chested warrior hacking away at various evil-looking creatures with ahame, yet rather curious, that it's guaranteed to stay on in a vortex, yet can't withstand a Twister." Lucifer opined. "Lucifer?" "Yes, Baltar?" "Maintenance tells me that there is a serious need for a de-spacegrunging in the ship's main thruster nozzles." "Uh..." "Deep in the thrusters." "I..." "One more crack about my hair..." "By your command, Baltar." "I know." CAN our heroes make it to the race in time? WHAT will happen if they don't? WILL Baltar win this game of Twister? WHY is he playing this game of Twister? IS this really the end for Duncan British Columbia? WILL Chameleon win this round with Amy? WHAT about the game? WILL he win that, too? ARE there any more breadsticks left? HOW does the Butler guy move around so fast? IS there really space grunge on Baltar's BaseShip? WHERE does space grunge come from? WHY does there have to be a next episode? WHAT happened to Boxey, Igraine, and the other children? her cried in protest. "We have a schedule here!" Starbuck grinned at the Bcbertan. "What was that for?" "For the hell of it," she told him. "Hades," someone corrected her. "The King is here." The Washatoman told them. "King?" Starbuck asked, as he feared his fantasy was coming to an end. "There's a king involved in this?" "Yeah. He brought something for you." "But I'm a Democrat!" "It's okay," said another woman. "He's tolerant." He sat up on the altar, grinning as the woman promptly put her arms around his neck, nuzzling it as she sat on his lap. "You needed a... weapon, Starbuck." She squirmed deeper into his lap, grinning widely. "We decided to get you the best." * * * * * He had been separated from the Fleet for about as many episodes as it took to tragically lose Maggie as a co- writer. Here and now, staring Apollo in the face, was a quickie passage back home. "C'mon, move your astrums! Tribunal's in five centons." Igraine s blood-spattered broadsword made, of course, no sense to her whatsoever, but we thought we'd keep you fully informed, regardless. "Hey!" said another voice. It was Igraine, surrounded by all Vela's other kids. "Would you folks hop back through the vortex, and be quick about it? We've got a Tribunal date with Sire Solon. Ya wanna get slapped with a FTA?" * * * * * "Oh, and one other thing," added Starbuck. "Why is there an altar with a dagger on it in here?" WHY is there an altar next to Starbuck? HOW did Igraine open the vortex? (Or did she?) WILL Iblis get cleaned up anytime soon? WHAT about Dibley and the rest of the baddies? WHY was Blip holding a piece of chartreuse carpeting? CAN Moore ever find his contact in his drink? WILL Lucifer find Baltar? (and why?) WILL they make it back to the Galactica before Colonel Tigh recieves more re- writes? WHY is everything Starbuck sees in black-and-white? WILL he finally get any? WHY doesn't Sire Uri drink...wine? For the ansDID Jolly forget them, too? WHY were none of the Senmut/Maggie/God-Emperor Leto questions, mentioned last time, answered as promised? BECAUSE WE LIED!!!!!!!!! Anyway, for more li....the answers to these, and perhaps a few more questions, please, WE BEG YOU, don't miss the next highly charged, but denied bail episode, of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in when we'll hear Vela say, "Igraine! Give Lil' Buckers that can of Cylon joint lube back. NOW!" ======= The Nat King Cole-Harry Belafonte Golden Tones Celebrity Death Match will not be seen at this time. We're so sorry. In its place, we present the following replacement program. OH GOD! WE'RE SO SORRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! When last we left our heroes, they were, well, doing a bunch of stuff, but it's been awhile, and we don't remember what exactly. Anyway, we're sure it was exciting and cool and stuff, so here's the next chapter of the long and justifiably disregarded The Starbuck Chronicles. Don't sahouted through the vortex as she reminded her deadbeat Dad that it was finally time to face the music over his lack of child support payments. In the background, her siblings chanted, "FTA, FTA, FTA..." "What's an FTA?" Boxey asked as he held tight to Apollo's hand, wondering who all these children were. "Well Boxey, it could be Federal Transit Administration or Freight Transport Administration, but I suspect in this instance it's `failure to appear'. Your Dad's gonna be in a bit of trouble if he doesn't go back to the /Galactica/." Boomer told him helpfully. "And so is his paycheck. Hades, they'll slap him with a wage garnishee right back to when he was riding his brand- spanking-new shiny, red velocipede with the heavy-duty training wheels and doing his first /Gazette/ route." "But all that stuff's back on Caprica. In ruins! The Cylons got it all." "You don't know these folks, Boxey," shuddered Boomer. "Dad, what's going on?" Boxey asked. "Apollo, you really wers to these and a mong-load of other questions that have nothing whatsoever to do with either Ni-Cad batteries or re-runs of Johnny Quest, don't miss (in other words, shoot straight!) the next post-metabolic biomass impacted episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear the huge muscle-bound warrior say, "Ve zhall zee!" ======= The Dukes Of Hazzard Line Up For Gas will not be seen at this time. In its place, we present the following show, which will probably tank. ======= When last we left our heroes, Count Iblis had been dumped on by the flying equus, Hummer was trying to get everyone back to the ship, Sire Solon was waiting to begin the Tribunal on Apollo being a dead-beat dad, Starbuck was dreaming (or was he?), and there were a lot of hot, pneumatic-bosomed babes in evidence. Glad you approve. So, here we go with the next salubriously monotonous episode of the Starbuck Chronicles. (We'll get to the end of this thing, eventually, folks. Promise!) y we didn't warn you. Part 84 By Lisa and Senmut Starbuck pulled out his fumarello, clamping it between his teeth, and looked around. The Interdimensional Gaming Chancery was just like he remembered it. Cubits, cubits, cubits. The sound, the smell, the glitter as the light reflected off the surface of each and every coin that was in play... Lords, it was intoxicating. He could feel his heart rate speed up just that little extra bit, in reaction to his adrenaline rush. To dance with Lady Luck, in wild and reckless abandon...Heavens Above! There was truly nothing like it. He grinned around his smoke as the euphoria engulfed him. There was an irresistible force pulling him towards the tables. There was no possible way he could fight it. "Where do ya think you goin', sucka?" A meaty, dark hand gripped him by the shoulder, pulling him back forcibly from the sparkling, shining Siren that called his name in a lusty, huskily sensuous tone. Oh, Starbuck! Chance was tshould go back and defend yourself," Athena told him. "Despite what everyone believes, and what the DNA tests said, it's not physiologically possible for you to be the father of Vela's other children. Not only are they far too old, since you landed on Equellus only about a yahren ago, but they range in ages. Unless, of course, you have some transmutable super-duper gonads that produce genetically enhanced gametes which accelerate the normal growth of the Human body." Apollo shifted uncomfortably as everyone looked in the general direction of his groin. Sheba grinned lecherously, waggling her eyebrows, and Vela wiped the drool from her chin. "Ah, the perfect offense!" Igraine yelled in victory, the vortex warbling around her. "Apollo, you really should go." Boomer nudged him, slightly uncomfortable with the new topic and the attention the Captain's gonads were getting. "Hummer could give you a ride on his he'enalu board." "That's my `vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, e *************** "So this is what the altar is for." Starbuck murmured, feeling very much as though he was being worshipped by the ladies... nay, goddesses surrounding him. Their hands were all over him, stroking his skin as they slowly, teasingly, removed the leathers. One of them nibbled on his left index finger after removing the gloves. "Lords... " He tried to sit up and embrace her, but she gently pushed him back down. "Don't worry, Starbuck. We'll take care of you." He sighed, surrendering to their ministrations. The Oklatexan leaned over him, whispering in his ear. "This is to give you strength." She kissed him deeply. /Give me strength/!, he thought as his arms pulled her close. He could still feel the tantalizing touch of the others as they continued to caress him. It was incredibly erotic having a group of women undress him as another kissed him passionately. His boot dropped to the ground. "Now, now, remember you have to share." A pointed tap on the she ultimate flirt, sometimes a lady, sometimes a hag. But the unpredictability of her nature made her all the more enticing and alluring. Starbuck reached out his hand, feeling a slight tingling at the ends of his fingertips, just before BA whipped him around, grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him hard enough to rattle his teeth. "You listen to me, Spaceman. We came here to get the Team's funds back, and re-enter you in the Perambulator 500. If I catch you within fifty yards of those gaming tables, I'm gonna rearrange that pretty face of yours!" BA growled. "That's how you lost our money to begin with!" "Uh...what's a yard?" "Don't play the fool, fool!" "I didn't lose your money, BA, Face did." Starbuck replied. "How can I lose money that isn't mine to begin with?" "An excellent point, really," Murdock drawled. "An accountant in the electroshock room next to me asked that once." "Oh?" asked Chameleon, as much out of professional curiosity as anythinl-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the /McGarrett Rocks/! sticker on the underside', Boom-Boom." Hummer corrected him. "But Boomer, what about Starbuck? He needs medical attention. He should go back to the /Galactica/, not me." "I believe Starbuck has a... higher calling right now, Buddy." Boomer told him, looking skyward. "Yeah, right." Apollo replied, remembering the image of the lovely women who surrounded him in the apparent separate dimension he was currently in. "Well, part of him seems to be quite...elevated. By the looks of the grin on his face, I'd say it's his usual calling." He bit his lip as Cassiopeia stared dirks at him... Dirk as Starbuck, Dirk as Faceman, Dirk in Scavenger Hunt, oh and even the horribly mutated Dirk in /Ssssssss/... "Hey, stop dirking around!" Apollo cried, holding up his hands in self-defense. "Go Apollo. Starbuck will battle Iblis." Boomer reassured him. As much as that thought filled him equally with horror and an incrediblehoulder had the Oklatexan withdrawing reluctantly. The Washatoman took her place, staring intently into Starbuck's eyes before leaning down. "This is to give you courage," she murmured before nipping his lower lip and then kissing him as she ran her hand through his hair." He wasn't sure why she thought he /needed/ courage, but his enjoyment of the moment soon erased that train of thought. He felt another boot pulled off. "My turn." The Washatoman pulled back, an self-satisfied grin on her face. "Are you having as much fun as I am?" she asked him. "More." He winked at her as he felt hands pull him to a sitting position and the leather jacket, which was now completely open, was eased off his shoulders. Another woman leaned in for a kiss. Starbuck sighed as he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her thoroughly. Lords, he must have died and found paradise. If he'd only known it was this good, he would have jumped off a winged-equine ages ago... or something like thag. "How did it happen?" "I don't know. Next time I saw him, he was trying to weave baskets out of spark plugs and teddy bear parts." "Ewwwww!" said Amy. "Sounds gross." "So was cleaning up the shock tables afterwards, Amy," opined Murdock, turning to look at her, but.... "In fact..." "Look, I didn't lose anyone's..." began Starbuck. "Well, according to your father, you were an accessory to the fact." Hannibal pointed out. "Uh... where exactly is Chameleon?" Starbuck asked. "Uhh...I don't know," said Hannibal, looking around. "I don't see him, or Amy." "But he was just here. Murdock?" "Either it was him or Daddy Long Legs, man. Hard to tell, sometimes." "Oh Lords, tell me this is all just a dream," moaned Starbuck. --------- "Now the name of this game is Shake Your Booty, Baby." Chameleon told the assembled gamers. Belloby raised her arms, shaking her shoulders energetically. "Booty!" Chameleon co urge to break into a giggle fit, he knew the Captain had to leave. "Take Vela too. Maybe after all we've been through, she'll be willing to be honest with the Tribunal." "Oh, and don't forget your kid." Belloby added. "You should really watch him a little more carefully. He's always getting into these dangerous, needs-to-be-saved type situations. Lack of parental guidance, if you ask me." "That's what I've been claiming all along." Igraine averred, arms crossed. "But /I/ should be the one battling Iblis. /I'm/ the Captain. I'm the heroic..." "Tell it to the writers, Apollo. And those women in the parallel dimension groping Starbuck." Boomer again looked skyward. Starbuck was now stretched out across the altar with the women slowly removing the black leather clinging to his body so damn deliciously. They caressed his firm, warm, toned, rippling muscles, hands replacing the bovine skin. Hmm... oh, right. Write something. Anyhow... "Lucky son-of-a-daggit." Apollo muttt. She drew back from him. "Skill," she grinned at him. "Thanks. You're not so bad yourself." He replied, absolutely loving them all. "Ahem." The BCbertan was standing at the foot of the altar tapping her foot, and wetting her lower lip as she watched him. She kneeled on the altar and crawled over his body until she was straddling his waist. "Pay attention now, Bucko. This is for numinous powers to defeat the Prince of Darkness." She leaned down, briefly grinning at his bemused expression, before claiming his lips with her own. A strange tingling was penetrating his body... and not /just /in the usual places. He did feel powerful. It was as if each kiss filled him with an inspiring energy. Now this `defeat the Prince of Darkness' thing was a bit much, sure, but if she wanted to work in a little fantasy of her own, he wasn't about to dissuade her. Once again he felt another woman draw back from him. She grinned at him and leaned in for one more kiss. "Hey!" Anotrrected her. "Sorry," she cackled, turning around to comply. Several of the priestesses around her giggled priestessly. It was an interesting mix of competitors. Baltar. Amy. Sheba. Cassiopeia. The mute midget that carried placards-uh, vocally limited, vertically challenged messenger. Miri. Vela. A bunch of illegitimate children*. Count Iblis. His brother, Dibley. Siress Tinia. Mrs. Peel. Lucifer ( operating the turntable in the control booth, and munching on a moly-lube stick ). Siress Belloby. The League of Luscious Lecherous Lascivious Ladies. A handful of priestesses. Korax. His brother, Borax. The God-Emperor Leto. Blip too, someone said, but we have no definite proof of that. AND...Duncan British Columbia, though he looked a bit dead, not to mention, well-chewed. "Well, it looks more interesting than playing Twister with Cylons." Baltar opined, glancing over at Lucifer. "It is," Chameleon promised them. "Not to mention cleaning space grunge off of Baseered. "And I want mine back!" said Boxey. "Ahem!!" Sheba interjected. "Uh... yeah. I should be going." Apollo told them, picking up Boxey and grabbing Vela by the hand. "Ready Hummer?" "Definitely, Dudes and dudettes." Hummer replied, aiming his he'enalu board for the vortex and, ultimately, the /Galactica/. "All aboard!" "How can we all possibly fit on this board?" asked Sheba. "Hey," replied Hummer, adjusting his trenchcoat. "It's a kind of magic!" "Uh, I don't...ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" * * * * * In front of Starbuck stood an imposing figure, his grey beard trimmed neatly. He wore a heavy garment over his tunic, which upon closer inspection seemed to be a kind of body armour with small metal rings linking it together. He carried a round shield, archaic to Starbuck's eyes, and his sword hung sheathed at his side. "Ah, the errant knight." He nodded at Starbuck. "Rise." For the first time since he had arrived in this sther cried in protest. "We have a schedule here!" Starbuck grinned at the Bcbertan. "What was that for?" "For the hell of it," she told him. "Hades," someone corrected her. "The King is here." The Washatoman told them. "King?" Starbuck asked, as he feared his fantasy was coming to an end. "There's a king involved in this?" "Yeah. He brought something for you." "But I'm a Democrat!" "It's okay," said another woman. "He's tolerant." He sat up on the altar, grinning as the woman promptly put her arms around his neck, nuzzling it as she sat on his lap. "You needed a... weapon, Starbuck." She squirmed deeper into his lap, grinning widely. "We decided to get you the best." * * * * * He had been separated from the Fleet for about as many episodes as it took to tragically lose Maggie as a co- writer. Here and now, staring Apollo in the face, was a quickie passage back home. "C'mon, move your astrums! Tribunal's in five centons." Igraine s Ships," said Lucifer, morosely. "Well, if you wouldn't always have to spin brodies in lightspeed while traversing nebulae!" said Baltar. "Eat moly-lube and die, Baltar," said Lucifer, and turned up the sound. "Drinks, anyone?" said Glen Larson. "I don't imagine they want any, now," said RDM. "Do they Lucifer?" "Never fear. Lucifer is here." "Wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!" said Lil' Buckers. "Igraine! Give Lil' Buckers that can of Cylon joint lube back. NOW!" "Ah, Mom!" Chameleon sighed, then after throwing several top hats at the newcomers, stepped forward, standing in front of the mirror that stretched from one end of the studio to the other. "Now everybody follow me. The last person still dancing, is the winner." Abruptly, the vocally challenged, vertically limited guy held up a sign. Got to go deliver the Pram. "Now?" Yeah. BA special ordered it for the Perambulator 500. "Right. Go ahead." Chamrange place, this other realm, Starbuck felt uncomfortable. He was suddenly thankful he still had his leather pants intact. After all, when standing before royalty, it was preferable NOT to be butt naked. "Uh..." he rose to his feet, gently disengaging the beautiful woman on his lap. "I bequeath unto thee Excalibur, in faith that she will defend thee well and true. Once thou hast destroyed Beelzebub, thou must return her posthaste. Understandest thou what I say, Sir Starbuck?" The King asked, thrusting the sheathed weapon into his hand. Strangely, an image of a gambling chancery in the shape of a castle entered his mind. He and Excalibur might just get along all right, after all. "Well... but... " Still, he was getting a bad feeling about all this. He didn't have the first clue what to do with a sword. Hades, maybe it shot laser bolts. He sure hoped so. "Aren't you supposed to knight him or something?" asked one of the women, her white gown fighting a losing battle withhouted through the vortex as she reminded her deadbeat Dad that it was finally time to face the music over his lack of child support payments. In the background, her siblings chanted, "FTA, FTA, FTA..." "What's an FTA?" Boxey asked as he held tight to Apollo's hand, wondering who all these children were. "Well Boxey, it could be Federal Transit Administration or Freight Transport Administration, but I suspect in this instance it's `failure to appear'. Your Dad's gonna be in a bit of trouble if he doesn't go back to the /Galactica/." Boomer told him helpfully. "And so is his paycheck. Hades, they'll slap him with a wage garnishee right back to when he was riding his brand- spanking-new shiny, red velocipede with the heavy-duty training wheels and doing his first /Gazette/ route." "But all that stuff's back on Caprica. In ruins! The Cylons got it all." "You don't know these folks, Boxey," shuddered Boomer. "Dad, what's going on?" Boxey asked. "Apollo, you really eleon replied, turning on the music and demonstrating a simple combo. "One, and two, and three..." ---------- Athena blinked. She turned back towards Face, grabbing him by the hand, before turning again to stare at his likeness. "Star-bbbuck!" she sputtered. The Warrior spotted her, hesitated a moment as his eyes opened wide with disbelief, then headed over. Three strange looking fellows followed him. The first was a large, black man with an unusual haircut who seemed to have found the sale at Sire Uri's Gaudy Jewellery For Excessively Rich And Utterly Tasteless Celebrities Without Safety Deposit Boxes. The second was a handsome, white-haired man. The third wore a strange cap on his head, and a leather bomber jacket. Athena of course did not know that it was a leather bomber jacket, but we wanted to make sure that you, the audience, hadn't forgotten this. Okay? It has been a while, after all. Now... Starbuck stopped in front of Face, looking him up her voluptuous breasts for supremacy. "Oh, right." The King pushed on Starbuck's shoulder until he was kneeling on the ground. He then lifted the sword, and touched it to Starbuck's shoulders. "I dub thee Sir Facem..." "Starbuck!" said the Oklatexan, waving her pink pages. "Oh, right. Sir Starbuck! Rise, Sir Starbuck!" ordered the King. Starbuck grinned, looking down. "I mean to thy feet!" Starbuck got up. "Here, receive Excalibur, Sir Knight. Mayest thous wield her in..." He stopped as Starbuck rather hurriedly adjusted his leather pants . "I don't have all day. Are we in agreement?" The King asked again. "Sure." Starbuck replied after a not-so-gentle nudge from his posse. "Sign here, Starbuck." One of the woman held up a document. "Can I borrow your pendragon, Art?" She asked the King. "Of a certainty, My Lady," he replied, handing it over, goosequill, inkwell and all. "It just guarantees you'll return it in good condition if you're still alive," she exshould go back and defend yourself," Athena told him. "Despite what everyone believes, and what the DNA tests said, it's not physiologically possible for you to be the father of Vela's other children. Not only are they far too old, since you landed on Equellus only about a yahren ago, but they range in ages. Unless, of course, you have some transmutable super-duper gonads that produce genetically enhanced gametes which accelerate the normal growth of the Human body." Apollo shifted uncomfortably as everyone looked in the general direction of his groin. Sheba grinned lecherously, waggling her eyebrows, and Vela wiped the drool from her chin. "Ah, the perfect offense!" Igraine yelled in victory, the vortex warbling around her. "Apollo, you really should go." Boomer nudged him, slightly uncomfortable with the new topic and the attention the Captain's gonads were getting. "Hummer could give you a ride on his he'enalu board." "That's my `vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, e and down. Then he looked back at BA and grinned. "Told you so." BA stared between the two men, so identical in appearance. "Well, I'll be... a has-been boxer..." "Huh?" said Amy, pizza sauce still clinging to her upper lip. "Oh. I thought it was Stallone for a sec," said BA. "Sorry." Then he looked at her again. "Where'd you come from?" "I can't Tango." Amy shrugged, taking another bite of pizza. "And I'm woman enough to admit it." Murdock grinned as the two near identical men kept starring at each other. "Faceman...meet Spaceman." Murdock threw an arm around Starbuck's shoulders. "But his friends call him Starbuck. Then again, I hear you two have actually met, though having tried a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster, I have a difficult time believing either of you would remember." "I have a vague... recollection..." Starbuck winced, still remembering the hangover a lot better than the night that the two had met at the Interdimensional Chancery and hplained as she put it in Starbuck's hand. "Still alive?" Starbuck asked with wide eyes, scrawling his signature after a poke in the side by another woman. Yeah, this whole sexual fantasy thing had really deteriorated. Can't go much further downhill than that. He looked down again. Yeah. "Don't worry, Bucko. We're gonna put you through some training before you take on Count Iblis. We want you to be ready." "Uh... isn't this Apollo's job? After all, /he's/ the Captain." They laughed at this. "C'mon Starbuck, it's your time to step up to the plate. Besides, we thought that a sword fight with the Devil would be kind of sexy. Especially, with you in black leather." "Yeah, the only thing better than Starbuck in black leather..." "... is Starbuck in nothing." They all laughed lecherously. "Uh, then why did you spend so much time taking my clothes off? Not that I minded, you understand." Once again, he was thankful for the remaining pants. "Sweat, sweetchl-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the /McGarrett Rocks/! sticker on the underside', Boom-Boom." Hummer corrected him. "But Boomer, what about Starbuck? He needs medical attention. He should go back to the /Galactica/, not me." "I believe Starbuck has a... higher calling right now, Buddy." Boomer told him, looking skyward. "Yeah, right." Apollo replied, remembering the image of the lovely women who surrounded him in the apparent separate dimension he was currently in. "Well, part of him seems to be quite...elevated. By the looks of the grin on his face, I'd say it's his usual calling." He bit his lip as Cassiopeia stared dirks at him... Dirk as Starbuck, Dirk as Faceman, Dirk in Scavenger Hunt, oh and even the horribly mutated Dirk in /Ssssssss/... "Hey, stop dirking around!" Apollo cried, holding up his hands in self-defense. "Go Apollo. Starbuck will battle Iblis." Boomer reassured him. As much as that thought filled him equally with horror and an incrediblead apparently gambled and lost the A-Team's retirement funds. "Lady Luck was kinda fickle that night." "Fickle? She was a real..." Face returned. "Now, now, Face." Hannibal grabbed the fumarello out of Starbuck's mouth and put it in his own. "Remember, this is a 'G' rated show." "Ah, gee," said someone. But he didn't rate, so we didn't give him a name. "Right, Hannibal." Face put an arm around Athena's shoulder's, pulling her against him. "This beautiful woman is Athena." "Ah, the Greek Goddess of Wisdom," Murdock bowed low before her. "Virgin daughter of Zeus." Murdock checked the shaving cream on his head in a mirror. "But if that's the case, what are you doing with Facey?" He smiled in amusement. "I thought your name was Templeton?" Athena asked. "Face is a... nickname." "I can see why." Athena smiled in appreciation, stroking his smooth-shaven cheek. (The left one, if anyone cares.) (And yes, the other one is still there too.) eeks," one of them replied cackling leacherously, reminiscent of Belloby. "Don't want to ruin the suit, after all. Leather's expensive, you know. Just ask Mrs. Peel. Ah, here'r the boys now." A tall man wearing buckskins, a coonskin cap and carrying an ax, came into view alongside a large bare-chested warrior with a blood-spattered broadsword. Within microns, the King had departed ( "Tell Gwennie hi!" the girls chirped as he mounted his equus to leave. "Love to Merle!"), after a rousing chorus of /Happy Grails To You,/ and the others had taken his place. For no reason Starbuck could fathom, the man in buckskins had a huge blue bovine next to him. He wondered if the Zohrlochs raised cattle, too. "Boys, this is Starbuck. We need you to give him a crash course in mortal combat." "My feet are killing me," the man in buckskins told them as he sized up the somewhat puny specimen before him. "Blisters, Paul?" the BCbertan asked. "Bunyons," he replied. "What do you thi urge to break into a giggle fit, he knew the Captain had to leave. "Take Vela too. Maybe after all we've been through, she'll be willing to be honest with the Tribunal." "Oh, and don't forget your kid." Belloby added. "You should really watch him a little more carefully. He's always getting into these dangerous, needs-to-be-saved type situations. Lack of parental guidance, if you ask me." "That's what I've been claiming all along." Igraine averred, arms crossed. "But /I/ should be the one battling Iblis. /I'm/ the Captain. I'm the heroic..." "Tell it to the writers, Apollo. And those women in the parallel dimension groping Starbuck." Boomer again looked skyward. Starbuck was now stretched out across the altar with the women slowly removing the black leather clinging to his body so damn deliciously. They caressed his firm, warm, toned, rippling muscles, hands replacing the bovine skin. Hmm... oh, right. Write something. Anyhow... "Lucky son-of-a-daggit." Apollo mutt Starbuck nodded. "Me too. He's a good-looking guy... for a guy." "Starbuck!" Apollo yelled, running up from behind. "It's really you!" He grabbed his friend and pulled him into a hearty embrace, slapping him on the back. "You're not dating my sister again, and pretending to be somebody else!" "What? Are you delusional?" Starbuck asked, looking at Athena, then back to the Captain. "What are you doing here?" "I want you back, buddy. I know I told you I was tired of the Starbuck Chronicles being all about you, but..." He shrugged slightly. "I talked it over with Lisa, and she's okay with it. And... I kinda missed you. Besides, you aren't dating my sister anymore." He glared at Face. "This guy is instead." "Interesting coincidence, don't you think?" smiled Face. "Come back, Bucko." Apollo pleaded, grabbing the lieutenant by his tunic and jerking him forward until they were eye to eye. "Come back, Bucko, come back, boy. Wipe a tear from me eye."nk? Can you get him into shape for Iblis?" the Oklatexan enquired. "Ve zhall zee!" the muscle bound warrior replied, flexing his pecs as he wiped his bloody sword off. "Ve zhall zee." "Ladies, can I at least have my boots back?" Starbuck asked beseechingly as his stomach acid started to rise up his throat. "And maybe some Gaviscon?" /Here/ "/Thanks," Starbuck told the Butler Guy. WILL Starbuck survive the duel with Count Iblis? WILL the supporting cast make it back to the Galactica in time for the Tribunal? DO the Zohrlochs really raise bovines? IF not, HOW do we explain Paul Bunyon's blue bovine? WILL Paul find a decent podiatrist? WHICH Starbuckian has voluptuous breasts? WILL Boxey get Muffit back? WHAT is going on at the golf course? WILL Tigh wait just a bit longer? For the answer to one or possibly two of the questions, if you're lucky--since we really don't read the previous chapter when working on the current one--stay tuned for the next deliriously combatered. "And I want mine back!" said Boxey. "Ahem!!" Sheba interjected. "Uh... yeah. I should be going." Apollo told them, picking up Boxey and grabbing Vela by the hand. "Ready Hummer?" "Definitely, Dudes and dudettes." Hummer replied, aiming his he'enalu board for the vortex and, ultimately, the /Galactica/. "All aboard!" "How can we all possibly fit on this board?" asked Sheba. "Hey," replied Hummer, adjusting his trenchcoat. "It's a kind of magic!" "Uh, I don't...ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" * * * * * In front of Starbuck stood an imposing figure, his grey beard trimmed neatly. He wore a heavy garment over his tunic, which upon closer inspection seemed to be a kind of body armour with small metal rings linking it together. He carried a round shield, archaic to Starbuck's eyes, and his sword hung sheathed at his side. "Ah, the errant knight." He nodded at Starbuck. "Rise." For the first time since he had arrived in this st Murdock sang. "Come back, Bucko, come back, boy. Wipe a tear from me eye." "Uh..." Apollo paused, letting Starbuck go. "Whenever I'm away from Bucko, water come to me eye, Every time I'm away from Bucko, water come to me eye. Everybody now!" Murdock threw his arms up in the air. Face and Hannibal stepped in. "Come back, Bucko, come back, boy. Wipe a tear from me eye. Come back, Bucko, come back, boy. Wipe a tear from me eye." "It's Liza, fools! Don't you go mangling Belefonte!" BA snapped at Murdock and Face who hastily hid behind Starbuck. "Or water gonna be comin' to your eyes!" "Easy, BA. The way I understand it is we have to find the Silver Cross and get Starbuck and Face back in the Perambulator 500." Hannibal told them. "Somehow, they flew out through an opening in the wormhole, and ended up switching places in real life." "Man, those wormholes, again!" said Murdock. "If it ain't pulling space shuttles into other stories, it's messing uive part (69!!!!) of the Starbuck Chronicles when a taunt of "I take it you're not familiar with the Code Duello!" shall ring out from one dimension to the next. Or, if you're VERY lucky, you'll hear Hummer say, "There can be only one!" And, if you're less lucky, maybe you'll hear Starbuck say, "Terminate?" ======= The Blob Eats Peyton Place will not be seen at this time. In its place we present the following thoroughly offal program. ======= In the last utterly incoherant episode of the Starbuck Chronicles, our intrepidly hesitant hero was being personally prepped by the hand-picked, muscle-bound duo of Barbarian and Bunyon. Two men who happened to be sporting large, unwieldy weapons made for hacking the heads off Immortals, while they were wandering through the otherly worldness of another reality, aka Has-been Land. At this time, the unlikely trio were united by a force greater than the Ship of Lights, at least in their minds. They were called the Starbuckians.range place, this other realm, Starbuck felt uncomfortable. He was suddenly thankful he still had his leather pants intact. After all, when standing before royalty, it was preferable NOT to be butt naked. "Uh..." he rose to his feet, gently disengaging the beautiful woman on his lap. "I bequeath unto thee Excalibur, in faith that she will defend thee well and true. Once thou hast destroyed Beelzebub, thou must return her posthaste. Understandest thou what I say, Sir Starbuck?" The King asked, thrusting the sheathed weapon into his hand. Strangely, an image of a gambling chancery in the shape of a castle entered his mind. He and Excalibur might just get along all right, after all. "Well... but... " Still, he was getting a bad feeling about all this. He didn't have the first clue what to do with a sword. Hades, maybe it shot laser bolts. He sure hoped so. "Aren't you supposed to knight him or something?" asked one of the women, her white gown fighting a losing battle withp our getting our money back." He belched, then wiped his teeth on a napkin. "When this is over, I'm having a talk with Lisa! First it's this, then it's necromancers! Next thing you know we'll be hip deep in duck lamps!" "Deck lamps?" Face asked. "Duck." Murdock corrected him. Everybody hit the floor except... "Then let's do it!" Apollo nodded eagerly, ignoring the other. Abruptly, the mute squirt swung in on a rope, the Silver Cross Pram slamming into Apollo and knocking him to the ground. The midget held up a sign. Watch out. "Thanks a lot." Apollo murmured, disentangling himself from the souped up pram. "C'mon. Let's get this over with." "I don't know, the tables are looking pretty hot!" Starbuck mentioned, his eyes twinkling. "And I kinda like my new life on the Galactica..." Face smiled at Athena. "Lieu-ten-ants!" Hannibal barked with a nod at BA. BA grabbed Face by the scruff of the neck, then turned to Starbuck. Meanwhile, back in the usual space time continuum, Apollo, Vela, Sheba, and Boxey were swirling and twirling their way back through the wormhole on Hummer's vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside. Awaiting our illustrious Captain on the Galactica was a Tribunal which would determine the legal paternity (and child-support payments) of Vela's children ranging in apparent ages from 2 to 6 from his short stay on Equellus only a couple seasons ago. Yeah, I know, I can't believe it either, but wait until you see her case. Oh, and to maintain a vague semblance of utter discontinuity, Starbuck's body, still laid, inert and unresponsive as Cassiopeia, Boomer, Siress Belloby and assorted sundry characters watched the action vividly displayed against a brilliant backdrop of fiery, red clouds while still gathered in the Stygian depths of Hades Hole. For all they could do was watch and wait as the fat her voluptuous breasts for supremacy. "Oh, right." The King pushed on Starbuck's shoulder until he was kneeling on the ground. He then lifted the sword, and touched it to Starbuck's shoulders. "I dub thee Sir Facem..." "Starbuck!" said the Oklatexan, waving her pink pages. "Oh, right. Sir Starbuck! Rise, Sir Starbuck!" ordered the King. Starbuck grinned, looking down. "I mean to thy feet!" Starbuck got up. "Here, receive Excalibur, Sir Knight. Mayest thous wield her in..." He stopped as Starbuck rather hurriedly adjusted his leather pants . "I don't have all day. Are we in agreement?" The King asked again. "Sure." Starbuck replied after a not-so-gentle nudge from his posse. "Sign here, Starbuck." One of the woman held up a document. "Can I borrow your pendragon, Art?" She asked the King. "Of a certainty, My Lady," he replied, handing it over, goosequill, inkwell and all. "It just guarantees you'll return it in good condition if you're still alive," she ex "Try that with me, Bangle-Boy, and I'll polish the floor with you!" Starbuck snarled at the much larger man. Face started in surprise. "Hannibal!" BA whined, blinking back tears and grabbing his recently mangled nose, courtesy of the Spaceman. "Ah man," said Murdock. "I'm outta breadsticks." "Murdock," said Hannibal, "if you're hungry, when we get our money back, I'll treat you to breakfast at Tiffany's." WILL Murdock find more breadsticks? HOW will BA manage with a broken nose? WHERE did Lucifer get the moly-lube stick? WILL the Team ever get their money back, or did it all somehow vanish into Adama's cattle futures venture? CAN even Murdock eat gems? HOW does the Butler Guy manage to have all those cards and signs just when he needs them? WHERE does Lucifer get his dialogue from? WILL everyone end up back where they belong, before this is all over? WHEN will this all be over? IS it possible to learn the true origin of space grunge? For the answe of the universe was left in the hands of one man who would wield the mighty Excalibur against the most deadly of demons, the most beastly of Beelzebubs, the most dastardly of diablos-The Evil Count Iblis. "Hey, I just realized, this is part sixty-nine." Starbuck paused, his torso damp with sweat from wielding the sword that the King had loaned him. It had been an excruciating training session and, miraculously, the skills the Barbarian and Bunyon had taught him seemed to come naturally, his body strangely knowing what to do as he hefted the heavy weapon. He looked up at the mystical group of women who watched from the stands of the ancient arena, each of them cheering as his skill with the blade improved with each passing micron. "What about MacLeod?" the BCbertan asked. "Too busy Quickening." The Oklatexan replied. "What about part sixty-nine?" The Washatoman asked the Colonial Warrior. Her eyes feasted on the sight before her. A light sheeplained as she put it in Starbuck's hand. "Still alive?" Starbuck asked with wide eyes, scrawling his signature after a poke in the side by another woman. Yeah, this whole sexual fantasy thing had really deteriorated. Can't go much further downhill than that. He looked down again. Yeah. "Don't worry, Bucko. We're gonna put you through some training before you take on Count Iblis. We want you to be ready." "Uh... isn't this Apollo's job? After all, /he's/ the Captain." They laughed at this. "C'mon Starbuck, it's your time to step up to the plate. Besides, we thought that a sword fight with the Devil would be kind of sexy. Especially, with you in black leather." "Yeah, the only thing better than Starbuck in black leather..." "... is Starbuck in nothing." They all laughed lecherously. "Uh, then why did you spend so much time taking my clothes off? Not that I minded, you understand." Once again, he was thankful for the remaining pants. "Sweat, sweetchn of sweat covered his ripplingly sculpted upper body, and he looked, oh soooo delicious in his black leather pants and boots. Oh, and throw in a bit of sword play and some recently imparted supernatural talents with his own natural athletic ability and he was the perfect package. Breathe, girls. Just breathe! "Well, I was just thinking that we should be doing something more apropos for this segment." He grinned suggestively at the women, his eyebrows quirking devilishly. "I agree." The Barbarian retorted. "Now, I vant to zee der horizontal cut delivered zixty-nine more times." "Followed by the vertical cut sixty-nine more times, y'all," Bunyon roared from his lazy boy chair while his podiatrist reduced his corns and imprinted his feet for orthopedic insoles. "Now about this bunionectomy... " "Ladies?" Starbuck beseeched them. Oh, he would so rather be doing something more...Kuma sutra in nature... or beyond. "Sorry, Bucko. Remember, the ers (maybe, if you're really good!) to these and potentially multitudinous secondary interrogatives, don't miss the next verbally incontinent, adjectively-challenged episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear Korax say, "Okay, so they spiced up Leto's part. But where's my skateboard?" * Well, actually, that's still in probate, so hold your equines... ======= Abbot and Costello Meet Wal*Mart will not be seen at this time. In its place, we present the following, which we hope will be on Target. The Starbuck Chronicles Part 85 Metallic silver with sleek aerodynamic lines, supercharged turbo-thrusters, incredible exhaust nozzles, and a really questionable colour scheme for the interior with concealed puce moodlighting. No, there was no doubt about it, the Silver Cross was a machine of beauty. Face and Starbuck ran their hands over the souped-up pram, courtesy of BA Baracus, admiring how the menacing, intimidating, burly man could teeks," one of them replied cackling leacherously, reminiscent of Belloby. "Don't want to ruin the suit, after all. Leather's expensive, you know. Just ask Mrs. Peel. Ah, here'r the boys now." A tall man wearing buckskins, a coonskin cap and carrying an ax, came into view alongside a large bare-chested warrior with a blood-spattered broadsword. Within microns, the King had departed ( "Tell Gwennie hi!" the girls chirped as he mounted his equus to leave. "Love to Merle!"), after a rousing chorus of /Happy Grails To You,/ and the others had taken his place. For no reason Starbuck could fathom, the man in buckskins had a huge blue bovine next to him. He wondered if the Zohrlochs raised cattle, too. "Boys, this is Starbuck. We need you to give him a crash course in mortal combat." "My feet are killing me," the man in buckskins told them as he sized up the somewhat puny specimen before him. "Blisters, Paul?" the BCbertan asked. "Bunyons," he replied. "What do you thiuniverse is at stake," the busty, but as yet unidentified one, reminded him. They're all busty, he wrote in the margins of his script. "Ah, the universe could wait an hour or two, couldn't it?" one of them pondered. Of course, the one on the left... The others looked at her balefully and someone muttered, "centar", knocking on her head. "Frack," she replied, letting out a deep breath of disappointment, and rubbing her head. "Exactly," Starbuck agreed. "Oh, and Starbuck, I just thought I'd mention it, Cassiopeia is watching," said Myrtle. "What?" He looked around, but saw no sign of his blonde lady. Hades, he hadn't seen her since... he couldn't remember when. Smack! "Oww!" "Why did you tell him that?" "Well, I was just being honest." "Bloody hell, uhhhhh....hades....this segment isn't going at all the way I had imagined." "Hey, I'm not responsible for passing out the re-wrurn a baby carriage into a race-pram, capable of entering the Perambulator 500. Athena looked on, her arms crossed over her chest, as she watched the two men-almost identical in appearance-caress the racer almost indecently. Forget the almost. It really was kind of indecent. "Makes you wish you were the Silver Cross..." Amy murmured aside. "Hmm..." Athena smiled. "Do you two mind?" Apollo groused, shaking his head at his little sister. "I certainly wouldn't mind, no. How about you Athena?" Amy chuckled. "Not in the least," the brunette returned, her blue eyes twinkling, and a lascivious smile on her sweet, luscious, sensuously succulent lips. She grinned at Apollo's scowl. "BA, you've outdone yourself!" Face enthused, looking around at the competitors. Hundreds of souped-up prams and their drivers were getting ready to begin the race. "Where did you get the supercharged turbo thrusters?" "Just found them lyin' around the wormnk? Can you get him into shape for Iblis?" the Oklatexan enquired. "Ve zhall zee!" the muscle bound warrior replied, flexing his pecs as he wiped his bloody sword off. "Ve zhall zee." "Ladies, can I at least have my boots back?" Starbuck asked beseechingly as his stomach acid started to rise up his throat. "And maybe some Gaviscon?" /Here/ "/Thanks," Starbuck told the Butler Guy. WILL Starbuck survive the duel with Count Iblis? WILL the supporting cast make it back to the Galactica in time for the Tribunal? DO the Zohrlochs really raise bovines? IF not, HOW do we explain Paul Bunyon's blue bovine? WILL Paul find a decent podiatrist? WHICH Starbuckian has voluptuous breasts? WILL Boxey get Muffit back? WHAT is going on at the golf course? WILL Tigh wait just a bit longer? For the answer to one or possibly two of the questions, if you're lucky--since we really don't read the previous chapter when working on the current one--stay tuned for the next deliriously combatites!" "You're telling me," Starbuck nodded as he started attacking the Barbarian once again, his moves repetitious, but each blow more forceful than the last. Hades, he was going to need some Ibuprofen in the morning. * * * * * The vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside, crashed to a halt, its occupants tumbling unceremoniously to the chambers of the High Tribunal. Inside awaited Apollo's fate... or at least the fate of his future paychecks. "Finally!" sighed Igraine, with a long-suffering flourish. "We were about to issue an FTA for you folks." "Hey, do you think I'd shirk my responsibilities?" asked Apollo, getting up and disentangling Borax's feet, now resembling green suede loafers, from his hair. (Sure, green suede doesn't go with the blue suit, especially with chartreuse laces, but it's an improvement.) "Good," said Igraine, leaning close and narrowing hhole. Like they was just waitin' there for me. There's a few extra details in here I should point out." He went over the console with both men, explaining the functions and use, as well as limitations, of the pram. The large man smiled with pleasure at the reaction he was getting from Faceman and Spaceman. "What cha think, Spaceman." Starbuck grinned, his face lighting up. "Nice, BA. You should have been with Colonial Research and Development." He pulled a fumarello out of his sleeve, lighting it up. Hannibal reached for it, and Starbuck firmly clamped it between his own teeth. Hannibal frowned, glancing at Face, who immediately handed him a cigar. "Gonna be good to have you back, kid." "Thanks, Hannibal." He looked regrettably at Athena. There had to be some way... "Alright, Lieutenants. Just remember, there are no rules in the Perambulator 500, except winning. Situational awareness is everything, so stay alert and be ready for anything." "Anythiive part (69!!!!) of the Starbuck Chronicles when a taunt of "I take it you're not familiar with the Code Duello!" shall ring out from one dimension to the next. Or, if you're VERY lucky, you'll hear Hummer say, "There can be only one!" And, if you're less lucky, maybe you'll hear Starbuck say, "Terminate?" ======= The Blob Eats Peyton Place will not be seen at this time. In its place we present the following thoroughly offal program. ======= In the last utterly incoherant episode of the Starbuck Chronicles, our intrepidly hesitant hero was being personally prepped by the hand-picked, muscle-bound duo of Barbarian and Bunyon. Two men who happened to be sporting large, unwieldy weapons made for hacking the heads off Immortals, while they were wandering through the otherly worldness of another reality, aka Has-been Land. At this time, the unlikely trio were united by a force greater than the Ship of Lights, at least in their minds. They were called the Starbuckians.er eyes at her father. "Because next, we were gonna send Reese out to look for you!" "Commander!" said Apollo, looking towards the Tribunal. "Somebody. Shoot me." He looked back at Igraine's siblings. "Please?" "I don't think that's a likely outcome for being a deadbeat Dad, but we can pitch it to the Tribunal if you like." Bootes replied indifferently. "Mr. Bellisario, Mr. Larson, Mr. Moore, what do you think?" "What?" Apollo pivoted sharply on his heel, again staring at the dimly lit tribunal. "Who the frack are you? Where's my Father?" He looked up at Bootes. "I thought you were dead." "This is SciFi, Captain," said the bovine farmer, who until just then had been a small child named after his uncle. "Anything is possible. Especially when the writers forget what had happened in the previous episodes. Besides, Leonard Nimoy is a buddy of mine. And while we're at it, where's Face....uh, Starbuck?" "I still want to know where the Commander is!" insisng?" Face asked. "Anything." The identical men started to climb into the pram, jockeying for position as to who was going to drive. "Look, Face, I saw that thing that you drive on Earth... that Corvair..." Starbuck began, trying to push his way past the other. "Corvette!" Face returned. "Not a Corvair, a Corvette!" "Well, it doesn't have a hyperdrive, pal." Starbuck replied with a shrug. "This little baby does, so unless you're been moonlighting in the Space Program, I think you should let me pilot." "Drive." "Huh?" "He said 'Drive', I believe," said Murdock. "You know, as in 'drive'?" "Oh Lords, yes," said Athena. "Drive. Mmmmmm!" "Yeah," said Starbuck, trying not to drool, "but..." "How can I let a guy drive, who doesn't know what 'drive' means?" Face asked the others. "Starbuck's rather unrestrained in the cockpit... or flight deck... or in a landram." Chameleon pointed out, with a wry smile. Or Meanwhile, back in the usual space time continuum, Apollo, Vela, Sheba, and Boxey were swirling and twirling their way back through the wormhole on Hummer's vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside. Awaiting our illustrious Captain on the Galactica was a Tribunal which would determine the legal paternity (and child-support payments) of Vela's children ranging in apparent ages from 2 to 6 from his short stay on Equellus only a couple seasons ago. Yeah, I know, I can't believe it either, but wait until you see her case. Oh, and to maintain a vague semblance of utter discontinuity, Starbuck's body, still laid, inert and unresponsive as Cassiopeia, Boomer, Siress Belloby and assorted sundry characters watched the action vividly displayed against a brilliant backdrop of fiery, red clouds while still gathered in the Stygian depths of Hades Hole. For all they could do was watch and wait as the fat launch tube, so I hear, "said" the Butler Guy, card in hand. "Other places too, I'll bet." Amy grinned, clinging to him. He winked at her. "Unrestrained is good in a race, sucka!" BA nodded. "Unrestrained could get me dead." Face argued. "Not getting the Team's funds back could get you dead too, Faceman!" BA snarled. Face tossed Starbuck the key. "You drive." ======= Face swallowed the lump in his throat, pulling at his neckline nervously. "So, what's a wormhole like, anyhow?" Starbuck turned to regard him for a moment. It was no easy feat either, with two grown men piled into a pram. "Well, sometimes it looks kind of dirty, and other times very celestial. I think the writers, especially Zaz, are experimenting... if you want the truth." He waved a hand towards the stars that twinkled before them-though what they were doing in an Interdimensional Chancery, he wasn't really sure. Then again, if you couldn't attract stars to this placted Apollo, managing at last to stand up, and get Athena's teddy out of his left boot. "I'd say he'd be on the second fairway by now." Moore held up his glass. "Ya know, rewrites. Say, where'd that little Butler guy go? I'm empty. It's hard to get decent help these days. Especially at this time of year. Hey kid, how bout a drink?" "No problem, Mr. Moore," Igraine replied, steering the latest technological breakthrough, a hover drink tray with an array of fine spirits for his perusal and ultimate consumption. "Hey, you're drinking, and sitting on a High Tribunal?? My tribunal?" Apollo stuttered in dismay. "Well, why do you think they call it a `high' tribunal? Glen fell off once, but we got him a lap belt. He should be okay now. He's faschnickered you know." "Faschnickered?" Apollo asked. "Is that why he's covered in blinking red and green lights?" "Tis the season, Cap'n. Hic" Larson replied raising his glass, his holly wreath dipped dase of the universe was left in the hands of one man who would wield the mighty Excalibur against the most deadly of demons, the most beastly of Beelzebubs, the most dastardly of diablos-The Evil Count Iblis. "Hey, I just realized, this is part sixty-nine." Starbuck paused, his torso damp with sweat from wielding the sword that the King had loaned him. It had been an excruciating training session and, miraculously, the skills the Barbarian and Bunyon had taught him seemed to come naturally, his body strangely knowing what to do as he hefted the heavy weapon. He looked up at the mystical group of women who watched from the stands of the ancient arena, each of them cheering as his skill with the blade improved with each passing micron. "What about MacLeod?" the BCbertan asked. "Too busy Quickening." The Oklatexan replied. "What about part sixty-nine?" The Washatoman asked the Colonial Warrior. Her eyes feasted on the sight before her. A light sheee, where would you? He blinked as three women, make that scantily clad women with four eyes and two mouths went by. The Quadriclops. Not surprisingly, they didn't see him. He groaned aloud at the chance he'd let slip through his fingertips while saving the Human Race from extinction. He'd just known the singing group would be a hit when he met them at Carillon! Man, if you could make it on the interdimensional circuit, you could make it anywhere. It's up to you... "Here we go." Face murmured watching a nine-limbed, orange, scaly creature stand at the head of the pack, waving a flag as lights began to descend down a post. It had only made it to the third light when Starbuck surged forward, launching the Silver Cross ahead of the back. "Hey, the light..." "No rules! Remember?" Starbuck called back. "I can wrap my mind around that." Face replied with a grin. Abruptly, Starbuck swerved, accelerating down a celestial ribbon of heavenly bodies. A burstn of sweat covered his ripplingly sculpted upper body, and he looked, oh soooo delicious in his black leather pants and boots. Oh, and throw in a bit of sword play and some recently imparted supernatural talents with his own natural athletic ability and he was the perfect package. Breathe, girls. Just breathe! "Well, I was just thinking that we should be doing something more apropos for this segment." He grinned suggestively at the women, his eyebrows quirking devilishly. "I agree." The Barbarian retorted. "Now, I vant to zee der horizontal cut delivered zixty-nine more times." "Followed by the vertical cut sixty-nine more times, y'all," Bunyon roared from his lazy boy chair while his podiatrist reduced his corns and imprinted his feet for orthopedic insoles. "Now about this bunionectomy... " "Ladies?" Starbuck beseeched them. Oh, he would so rather be doing something more...Kuma sutra in nature... or beyond. "Sorry, Bucko. Remember, the hingly forward over one eye. "Just hear those Cylons jingle-ing, ring ting tingle- ing too, C'mon it's lovely weather to blow up a BaseShip with you!!" "This is ridiculous. You can't conduct a trial like this. You're making a mockery of the system." Apollo protested. "No more so than when they had your father sit on the Tribunal in Murder On The Rising Star. That was clearly a conflict of interest with Adama sitting in judgment of Starbuck." Igraine returned defiantly. "Igraine, a little respect please. That's your grandfather!" Vela interjected. "That was a military court," countered Apollo. "It was his place to sit on it." "C'mon, let's get going on this." Bellisario interrupted. "I've got an after-party." "When?" Sheba asked. "After," he replied, adjusting the setting on Larson's lights so they flickered in time to "Away In A Viper", which Glen was currently singing... badly. "I hereby declare this Tribunal in session." Moore banged his jingle of heat and fire narrowly missed them and he slammed his stick forward, diving as another burst of energy exploded over their heads. "Who is it?" Starbuck yelled, not daring to take his eyes off the heavenly pathway to Financial Freedom at Fifty-Five... or so the Faceman had called it. "Not from my genre." Face replied. His hands gripped the sides of the pram tightly, and he wished he'd gone for the roll-option as Starbuck lurched to the side, avoiding a particularly hideous beast. "Okay, so they spiced up Leto's part. But where's my skateboard?" "You're dead!" Starbuck roared over his shoulder as they screamed by. "Wrong continuum, you snivelling, scrawny, pasty, long-haired, effeminate excuse for a soldier!" Korax hollered back. "Slimy toad!" "HUMAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" "I really hate that thing!" The Silver Cross screeched to a halt, and Starbuck hit the reverse thrusters, backing up and over the Ziklagi spy. "I'm all for continuity in universe is at stake," the busty, but as yet unidentified one, reminded him. They're all busty, he wrote in the margins of his script. "Ah, the universe could wait an hour or two, couldn't it?" one of them pondered. Of course, the one on the left... The others looked at her balefully and someone muttered, "centar", knocking on her head. "Frack," she replied, letting out a deep breath of disappointment, and rubbing her head. "Exactly," Starbuck agreed. "Oh, and Starbuck, I just thought I'd mention it, Cassiopeia is watching," said Myrtle. "What?" He looked around, but saw no sign of his blonde lady. Hades, he hadn't seen her since... he couldn't remember when. Smack! "Oww!" "Why did you tell him that?" "Well, I was just being honest." "Bloody hell, uhhhhh....hades....this segment isn't going at all the way I had imagined." "Hey, I'm not responsible for passing out the re-wrbells on the counter. "I always loved that sound. Beer me, kid." His pointed to Igraine. "Dashing through wormholes, on an uber he'enalu board..." Larson started. "Talk about a kangaroo court." Apollo exclaimed. "Six white Boomers, snow white Boomers, facing Count Iblis beneath the Stygian depths..." Larson tried to stand up for his newest song, but the lap belt held him firmly in place. "Uh, Dad... isn't Boomer black?" Boxey asked in confusion. "The last time I looked, son." Apollo replied. The flashing lights were giving him a headache. The producers were clearly out of control. Or was it the writers? "I refuse to take part in this mockery of the Colonial Legal system!" "Fine, Cap'n." Larson stopped singing. "But if you don't defend yourself now we'll slap you with a FTD . Hic. Failure to defend." "Defend myself against what? I was on Equellus a yahren ago for a total of one single episode, featuring me, I might add. It was my favorite." "the continuum," he said, as he felt the impact. "Watch out!" Face yelled, as a small ship hovered over them, both barrels of its weaponry pointed at them. "Baltar!" Starbuck screamed at the traitor. "Yes, yes, I know." Baltar replied with an evil grin. "Baltar. That is my name, though why you always seem to need to repeat it..." The traitor of all Mankind shook his head. "Anyway...'I'd trade my life for a shot at you.' " He mimicked the Warrior. 'I'd trade my life for a shot at you. Nee ner nee ner neeeeeeeeeeeeee nerrr!!!!!!!' " "Get him, Face." Starbuck murmured, remembering BA's secret weapon. Abruptly, a wave of white, sticky goo shot forward, covering Baltar and his ship. The traitor looked down at himself in disbelief. Strangely, the unknown substance felt comforting on his skin. He rubbed some in, rolling up his sleeves. It even smelled pleasant. Put him in mind of ... mother. "What is this?" "Damn it, Face. You hit the wrong button. That's theites!" "You're telling me," Starbuck nodded as he started attacking the Barbarian once again, his moves repetitious, but each blow more forceful than the last. Hades, he was going to need some Ibuprofen in the morning. * * * * * The vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside, crashed to a halt, its occupants tumbling unceremoniously to the chambers of the High Tribunal. Inside awaited Apollo's fate... or at least the fate of his future paychecks. "Finally!" sighed Igraine, with a long-suffering flourish. "We were about to issue an FTA for you folks." "Hey, do you think I'd shirk my responsibilities?" asked Apollo, getting up and disentangling Borax's feet, now resembling green suede loafers, from his hair. (Sure, green suede doesn't go with the blue suit, especially with chartreuse laces, but it's an improvement.) "Good," said Igraine, leaning close and narrowing hI liked the gun fight." Vela added. "Very sexy." Apollo grinned in reply. "Thanks. It was the open shirt that did it." Vela nodded her agreement and winked at him. "I didn't care for it at all," said Red-Eye from off camera. "Continue Captain." Moore encouraged him, while looking at his favourite magazine under the desk, Battlestar Babes Quarterly. The articles were so well rounded and articulate. Yeah, the articles. "Well, it's not possible for me to father three children of different ages during one sexual encounter about a yahren ago." "Hmm. I see what you mean." Bellisario responded. "We'd better establish how old the children are. Madam?" he asked Vela. "They are just over three sectars old, My Lord." Vela responded with a shrug. "I see. Well, apparently you're wrong, Captain. Not looking good for you." Moore pointed out as he pulled out the centerfold. "What's Starbuck doing in here?" "He's the Battlestar Babe of the Quarter. diaper cream dispenser!" "Oh? Sorry." Obviously, he'd been spending too much time ogling Athena, and not enough time paying attention. The Father had always said that a woman would be his downfall. However, he hadn't met her yet, but was looking forward to making her acquaintance. "Well, he is a total....." "Watch it," said a voice. "This is a family Round Robin story, after all! G-rated!" "Hah!" shouted a voice from up above. "Okay," said Starbuck. "So, what does this one do?" He pushed another button. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" said someone. WHAT did the other button do? IS Korax really hurt by being run over? OR even injured? WHY did Baltar not use a falsetto voice when taunting Starbuck? CAN you really achieve Financial Freedom at Fifty-Five? WILL stars really twinkle in a Chancery? HOW did they even fit? WHERE is everybody else? DO you even care after eighty-five episodes of this? For the answers to these and whatever else wWe sued for equal representation and won," Sheba explained with a grin. "Huh. Imagine that," said Moore. "Gee, thanks," said Apollo. "Can I see?" asked Bootes and Red-Eye at once. "Bloody women's lib. It's destroying the universe." Bellisario blared, waving his arms and knocking over his drink. "Oh Hades bells!" he sighed. "Gimme another drink!" Sorry, said the Butler Guy, silently. Can't "Why not?" There can be only one! "Never mind that!" Apollo yelled in exasperation. "Look at these children. Just look at them. Do they look three sectars old to you?" "Hmm. I see what you mean." Bellisario answered. "Madam?" "I can explain." Igraine interjected. "I discussed with Sen.....uh, one of the geneticists in the Life Station. It seems that Captain Apollo has some transmutable super-duper gonads that produce genetically enhanced gametes which accelerate the normal growth of the Human zygote." "Imagine that," said Moore. "Ah, wer eyes at her father. "Because next, we were gonna send Reese out to look for you!" "Commander!" said Apollo, looking towards the Tribunal. "Somebody. Shoot me." He looked back at Igraine's siblings. "Please?" "I don't think that's a likely outcome for being a deadbeat Dad, but we can pitch it to the Tribunal if you like." Bootes replied indifferently. "Mr. Bellisario, Mr. Larson, Mr. Moore, what do you think?" "What?" Apollo pivoted sharply on his heel, again staring at the dimly lit tribunal. "Who the frack are you? Where's my Father?" He looked up at Bootes. "I thought you were dead." "This is SciFi, Captain," said the bovine farmer, who until just then had been a small child named after his uncle. "Anything is possible. Especially when the writers forget what had happened in the previous episodes. Besides, Leonard Nimoy is a buddy of mine. And while we're at it, where's Face....uh, Starbuck?" "I still want to know where the Commander is!" insise can think up between now and then, or maybe some you might send us ( SBChronsbySen&Zaz@BSG-Lists.com ), be sure and catch the next non-Morphing, purgative-free episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in when we'll hear Miri say... "Well, your plastic surgeon did a rotten job!" ======= Just when you thought the BSG universe was finally rid of... The Starbuck Chronicles Part 86 By Lisa Z. and Senmut July, 2008 When we last left our heroes they were really torqued off at being left. But hey, these things happen. Anyway, as you doubtless recall, they were trying to win the Perambulator 500, so that they could recover the A-Team's lost retirement funds, lost courtesy of Faceman and Spaceman, gambling and losing the money in the Interdimensional Chancery on Cordugo Pit (partly a wholly-owned subsidiary of Sire Uri and his sleazy business empire), while under the influence of too much Chameleon. Face and Starbuck had just run over Korax in the Silver Cross, which made hell that explains it then," he nodded leaning over the counter and looking in the general direction of Apollo's... gonads. "Or radiation. Radiation's always a good excuse. Or maybe the fact that Equellus has a different length yahren than the Colonies. Take your pick." She stopped to wet her whistle with some of the fruit juice laid out for the kids. She tried it, it still worked. She put it back into her pocket and continued. "Not to mention the DNA tests that I've already submitted to which prove conclusively that Apollo is our father." Igraine explained, topping up their drinks all around. Hey, there can be only one! "Wrong scene, Angelo. Starbuck, down with the two sword and ax guys. 'member?" She handed him a sheaf of pink pages. Bummer. "Right. Now, getting back to father's gonads..." "Oh, yes," said Sheba. "Excuse me!" said Sire Solon. "As Chief Opposer, does anyone mind if I say a few words?" "Oh, yeah. Right," said Vela. ======= ted Apollo, managing at last to stand up, and get Athena's teddy out of his left boot. "I'd say he'd be on the second fairway by now." Moore held up his glass. "Ya know, rewrites. Say, where'd that little Butler guy go? I'm empty. It's hard to get decent help these days. Especially at this time of year. Hey kid, how bout a drink?" "No problem, Mr. Moore," Igraine replied, steering the latest technological breakthrough, a hover drink tray with an array of fine spirits for his perusal and ultimate consumption. "Hey, you're drinking, and sitting on a High Tribunal?? My tribunal?" Apollo stuttered in dismay. "Well, why do you think they call it a `high' tribunal? Glen fell off once, but we got him a lap belt. He should be okay now. He's faschnickered you know." "Faschnickered?" Apollo asked. "Is that why he's covered in blinking red and green lights?" "Tis the season, Cap'n. Hic" Larson replied raising his glass, his holly wreath dipped dasim very cross, and then along came Baltar with his double-barrelled Death Ray, murder in his heart and diaper cream on his shirt. Are you sitting comfortably? Then let us begin after a word from our sponsors... "Do..." We now return you to our program. (Well, you said "a word" from our sponsors. Just taking you at your...well, word.) "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" yelled Baltar as a jet stream of larvae and worms, of various sizes, sliminess, and maturity pelted his ship, penetrating his death rays with the binding capacity of Vela-veeta. "I'm plugged up!" Baltar yelled angrily, watching the energy levels on the ship rise dangerously as he slammed the firing mechanism with disappointing results. A lone worm popped out the end of the cannon. "Might-I-suggest-more-fibre-in-your-diet?" his attending Centurion suggested. Somewhere, there was the sound of laughter, but we're not sure from whom. (We'll check into that and get back to you, later.) "Und how vaz zat?...Uh, I mean how was that?" asked Starbuck, as he traded blows, for the sixty-ninth time, with the huge muscular Barbarian. "Zat vas gut, Lieutenant. You are really pickingk zis up." The swordsman swung again, and Starbuck blocked it with his own blade. He pressed forward, till his blade caught the handguard, and he twisted. The other's sword flipped over, flew from his grip, and went clattering to the ground. "Ah!" said Starbuck. "Gut!" said Conan. "Zat is how you treminate ze udder fella." "Udder? I mean, terminate?" "Ja. Terminate." He picked up his sword, wiping it off, and looked at Starbuck. "Now, you get to verk vit Paul. Don't vorry, I'll be back." "Hey," came a voice. They all turned to see a tall man in a long black trenchcoat, with a slender sword. "I'm busy with Methos right now." "Not you, Paul. Him Paul." "Oh, okay." "Don't worry, son," said Bunyon, swinging his giant ax over his head. "You'll schingly forward over one eye. "Just hear those Cylons jingle-ing, ring ting tingle- ing too, C'mon it's lovely weather to blow up a BaseShip with you!!" "This is ridiculous. You can't conduct a trial like this. You're making a mockery of the system." Apollo protested. "No more so than when they had your father sit on the Tribunal in Murder On The Rising Star. That was clearly a conflict of interest with Adama sitting in judgment of Starbuck." Igraine returned defiantly. "Igraine, a little respect please. That's your grandfather!" Vela interjected. "That was a military court," countered Apollo. "It was his place to sit on it." "C'mon, let's get going on this." Bellisario interrupted. "I've got an after-party." "When?" Sheba asked. "After," he replied, adjusting the setting on Larson's lights so they flickered in time to "Away In A Viper", which Glen was currently singing... badly. "I hereby declare this Tribunal in session." Moore banged his jingle "The guns, you fool!" Baltar returned, pounding a fist on the button. "Cheap Cylon junk, that's all the Imperious Leader sends me! Low grade inferior felgercarb. How am I supposed to catch the Colonial Fleet with second rate cast offs?" "Have-you-ever-considered-bovine-monging-your-way-past-some-base- commander? So-you-could-loot-his-supply-depot?" "That's ridiculous!" spluttered Baltar. "How-about-begging?" "How about I yank your power pack with a chainsaw?" replied Baltar, glaring dangerously at his minion. "No-point-in-being-nasty!" muttered the Centurion. "Sheesh! Imperious-Leader!" "Oh, can it, you...tin can! Lords, why can't I get decent weapons of mass destruction? I want to know the answer! What I want to know is who he sends the good stuff to! Is there a more interesting thousand yahren war going on somewhere else in the universe that's more important? Are the guns that actually fire when you press "fire" aimed at some other race of arce know he's gone." CHOP!!!! "Not bad at all," said Mrs. Peel, handing Iblis a spray perfume from her purse. "For a mere mortal." "Pah!" spat Iblis, at last clean of the flying equus' token of affection. They glared at each other from across the arena. The flying equine was rubbing his snout on Rover, but that doesn't come into this story at all. He continued to watch Starbuck practice, tempted from time to time to use a blast of power and destroy him now. However, the grinning face of the eques from across the arena made him think better of it. "Ah!" said Starbuck, as a stroke of his sword cleaved the handle of Bunyon's ax in half. "He's ready!" said Bunyon. "He's ready!' chanted one of the priestesses. She was at once joined by the others. "He's ready! he's ready!" "How in Hades Hole did I get here?" asked Adama, looking across the green, then down at his golf club. Search me. ======= HOW did Adama get onto the fairway? WHAT will habells on the counter. "I always loved that sound. Beer me, kid." His pointed to Igraine. "Dashing through wormholes, on an uber he'enalu board..." Larson started. "Talk about a kangaroo court." Apollo exclaimed. "Six white Boomers, snow white Boomers, facing Count Iblis beneath the Stygian depths..." Larson tried to stand up for his newest song, but the lap belt held him firmly in place. "Uh, Dad... isn't Boomer black?" Boxey asked in confusion. "The last time I looked, son." Apollo replied. The flashing lights were giving him a headache. The producers were clearly out of control. Or was it the writers? "I refuse to take part in this mockery of the Colonial Legal system!" "Fine, Cap'n." Larson stopped singing. "But if you don't defend yourself now we'll slap you with a FTD . Hic. Failure to defend." "Defend myself against what? I was on Equellus a yahren ago for a total of one single episode, featuring me, I might add. It was my favorite." "beings that the Cylons find as detestable as us Humans?" "Yes." "YES?" Baltar howled, gazing at the Cylon in absolute shock. "Who are they?" "Wouldn't-you-like-to-know!" replied the Cylon. "Ha-ha-ha!" Crunch! "Ow!" "CUT!" "What? What's wrong?" John Colicos looked up. "I read the line as written." "That's the problem, John. I mean hey...Weapons of mass destruction? How did that get in the script?" the director snapped, checking the pages. "That's just sooooo 2001. I hate these interdimensional writers! Seventies, people! We didn't use phrases like that in the seventies!" "Where-are-our-rewrites?" asked the Cylon. Possibly it may have been Stercuscaput, but the studio wasn't saying, for some reason. Here. "Uh, thanks. Uhh....what was your name again?" asked Colicos, looking down at the person with the scripts. Sheesh! How quickly they forget! "Okay, everyone got their scripts?" Everyone nodded. "Okay. Onceppen to Apollo at his Tribunal? IS Starbuck ready to face the vile Count Iblis? WHY is Igraine serving drinks? How will Apollo siring all these children affect things with Sheba? WHERE is Blip in this one? OR Lucifer, for that matter? WILL Larson ever learn to sing? WHAT will happen to Moore? (Personally, I can't imagine.) WHICH priestess is the one with the hugest bazooms? IS this thing EVER going to get to a resolution? For the answers to whichever of these questions we can figure one out to, don't miss the next lactatingly expressionless episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear Baltar say, "I'm objectionable!" ======= The Guy Behind Ironside's Wheelchair Is Still Pushing Dope will not be seen at this time, in order that we may shove the following program in front of you. The Starbuck Chronicles-Part 70-Who'd da thunk? It's amazing how in just the right set of circumstances, you can actually delude yourself into thinking you're capable of doing things thatI liked the gun fight." Vela added. "Very sexy." Apollo grinned in reply. "Thanks. It was the open shirt that did it." Vela nodded her agreement and winked at him. "I didn't care for it at all," said Red-Eye from off camera. "Continue Captain." Moore encouraged him, while looking at his favourite magazine under the desk, Battlestar Babes Quarterly. The articles were so well rounded and articulate. Yeah, the articles. "Well, it's not possible for me to father three children of different ages during one sexual encounter about a yahren ago." "Hmm. I see what you mean." Bellisario responded. "We'd better establish how old the children are. Madam?" he asked Vela. "They are just over three sectars old, My Lord." Vela responded with a shrug. "I see. Well, apparently you're wrong, Captain. Not looking good for you." Moore pointed out as he pulled out the centerfold. "What's Starbuck doing in here?" "He's the Battlestar Babe of the Quarter. again, places everyone, now... action!" "Oh, can it, you... tin can. Lords, why can't I get two all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions, on a sesame seed bun?" Colicos glanced off camera for a split second, wiping a trace of sauce from the corner of his mouth. "Psyche! Is that seventies enough for you?" He smiled beatifically before resuming. "What I want to know is who he sends the good stuff to! The Big Macs! The small fries! The chocolate shakes. After all, before all this started we had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun... " "Good night, John-Boy!" Face grinned as Starbuck pulled away from the rambling villain. He waved at Baltar as they shot forward. "Let the Force be with you!" "Korax, Baltar... what the frack is next?" Starbuck mused as he pushed down hard on the control stick while increasing the thrust, getting all the power he could out of the Silver Cross as they shot across the heavens. "Why would you even ask sWe sued for equal representation and won," Sheba explained with a grin. "Huh. Imagine that," said Moore. "Gee, thanks," said Apollo. "Can I see?" asked Bootes and Red-Eye at once. "Bloody women's lib. It's destroying the universe." Bellisario blared, waving his arms and knocking over his drink. "Oh Hades bells!" he sighed. "Gimme another drink!" Sorry, said the Butler Guy, silently. Can't "Why not?" There can be only one! "Never mind that!" Apollo yelled in exasperation. "Look at these children. Just look at them. Do they look three sectars old to you?" "Hmm. I see what you mean." Bellisario answered. "Madam?" "I can explain." Igraine interjected. "I discussed with Sen.....uh, one of the geneticists in the Life Station. It seems that Captain Apollo has some transmutable super-duper gonads that produce genetically enhanced gametes which accelerate the normal growth of the Human zygote." "Imagine that," said Moore. "Ah, w would never have occurred to you in a sane moment. Yeah, this was definitely one of those instances. Just how does a guy from a little known farming community find himself in an arena somewhere between Hades Hole and Cordugo Pit, facing off with the Prince of Darkness? Of course, the answer depended to a great extent on just how one defined "sane". Starbuck looked over at the collection of beautiful women who had rooked him into this. They were still chanting "He's ready! He's ready!". Well, he didn't feel all that ready. As he turned slowly in a circle, the weight of Excalibur in his hand, an arena appeared around him as if a heavy (stygian) mist had lifted, and it had been there all along. Crowds of people, some of them bizarrely dressed, were in the stands shouting "Huzzah!" as brightly coloured banners waved in the sudden breeze. Strangely, his mysterious mentors, the mighty warrior with the eternally flexing pecs and funny accent, and the guy with the axe, blue buch a thing?" Face returned grumpily. "It's like setting us up for yet another disaster. Next Colonel Decker and the army will find an interdimensional jeep to follow us in." "Personally, I'd prefer Mrs. Peel. She can follow me anywhere." "She related to Decker?" "No, but she does ride pretty fast on her trusty steed," Starbuck replied. "Is it interdimensional, too?" "I'm hoping to find out." "What about Amy?" Face asked, feeling strangely protective. "She's a nice kid," Starbuck nodded, then smiled lasciviously. "But Mrs. Peel is in a class all of her own. If only we could shake the Diabolis connection..." "HUH?" "Are you superstitious, Face?" Starbuck asked his twin with a grin. "Believe in demons?" "I'm Catholic!" the conman returned, in explanation. "I don't know what that means..." the Viper pilot shook his head. "Well, you and I were obviously brought up differently! Remind me to send Sister Theresa by to explovine, and bad feet, had disappeared (along with pedicurist, who in his off-centars was a podiatrist-after all, one can only put so much effort into nail polish and emery boards) into the same mist from which the arena had appeared. Well, that was just wrong. He could have used the moral support... not to mention his black leather jacket, which he figured the sculpted warrior had probably turned into a loin cloth by now. Hades, he could use some immoral support, come to think of it. He could clearly see Iblis at the other end of the arena. He was raising his hand, his fingers stretched out, and pointing it towards Starbuck. Mrs. Peel, at his side along with the rattily dressed Dibley, set down her champagne flute, and covered her eyes. A beam of light flashed in front of Starbuck's eyes, there was a mighty explosion, and smoke filled the air. He was dead. He had to be dead. After all, Apollo had been in a different time, a different place, and the SOL beings were obviouell that explains it then," he nodded leaning over the counter and looking in the general direction of Apollo's... gonads. "Or radiation. Radiation's always a good excuse. Or maybe the fact that Equellus has a different length yahren than the Colonies. Take your pick." She stopped to wet her whistle with some of the fruit juice laid out for the kids. She tried it, it still worked. She put it back into her pocket and continued. "Not to mention the DNA tests that I've already submitted to which prove conclusively that Apollo is our father." Igraine explained, topping up their drinks all around. Hey, there can be only one! "Wrong scene, Angelo. Starbuck, down with the two sword and ax guys. 'member?" She handed him a sheaf of pink pages. Bummer. "Right. Now, getting back to father's gonads..." "Oh, yes," said Sheba. "Excuse me!" said Sire Solon. "As Chief Opposer, does anyone mind if I say a few words?" "Oh, yeah. Right," said Vela. ======= ain it to you!" "Maybe we weren't brought up as differently as you think..." Starbuck mused aloud, wishing he had a bit more time to get to know his double before the race was run, and they would return to their own dimensions. Abruptly, Face slapped him on his shoulder, his perfectly manicured hand pointing to the right. Finish Line this way. "Thanks, Buddy!" Starbuck waved at the little man holding the sign. Inexplicably, a warm mist enfolded them. "So, let me get this straight... we win this thing and not only do we win enough money to repay the team the money we borrowed, but we miraculously return to our own timelines? Is that right?" "I haven't got a clue," Starbuck returned. "These writers are unpredictable to say the least. Just when I think I'm gonna get a chance to go to the turbo flush and have a meal, maybe even catch a little shut-eye, then I'm suddenly in trouble again, and missing my shirt..." "Hey, Starbuck?" "Yeah?" "Why sly busy elsewhere, probably trying to negotiate a cameo in the new series. The crowd roared, "Huzzah!" He realized his eyes were closed. Then again, what did it matter, if he was dead? But... he seemed to be having a lot of sentient... well, for him anyhow... thoughts for someone who was just incinerated by Mephistopheles. He knew he would probably regret it, but he opened his eyes anyway. To Starbuck's utter amazement, he still held Excalibur before him, both hands wrapped around the hilt of the huge sword. The blade was glowing a luminescent blue and almost seemed to have a mystical aura of energy around it... well, if you believed in that kind of mystical aura type thing, which Starbuck most definitely did not. No, it was merely the after-flash of the death beam, which he had amazingly deflected with the sword. Lords, he was pretty dang good. He peeked around the glowing edge of Excalibur, and slowly grinned. "Beginner's luck." Iblis roared, as he again raised h "Und how vaz zat?...Uh, I mean how was that?" asked Starbuck, as he traded blows, for the sixty-ninth time, with the huge muscular Barbarian. "Zat vas gut, Lieutenant. You are really pickingk zis up." The swordsman swung again, and Starbuck blocked it with his own blade. He pressed forward, till his blade caught the handguard, and he twisted. The other's sword flipped over, flew from his grip, and went clattering to the ground. "Ah!" said Starbuck. "Gut!" said Conan. "Zat is how you treminate ze udder fella." "Udder? I mean, terminate?" "Ja. Terminate." He picked up his sword, wiping it off, and looked at Starbuck. "Now, you get to verk vit Paul. Don't vorry, I'll be back." "Hey," came a voice. They all turned to see a tall man in a long black trenchcoat, with a slender sword. "I'm busy with Methos right now." "Not you, Paul. Him Paul." "Oh, okay." "Don't worry, son," said Bunyon, swinging his giant ax over his head. "You'll scwould you have a meal and sleep in the turbo flush?" "Uhh...I wouldn't, actually." "Then why..." "One of the writers didn't parse the sentence correctly. Hey, it happens all the time in these fics." "Okay. Gotcha. Uhhh...Starbuck?" Face interrupted him. "What?" "Where's your shirt?" "Frack! She did it again! Doesn't she understand about wind-chill in a turbo-charged pram?" Starbuck snapped as the interdimensional current slapped him in the bare, manly chest. He glanced back at Face. "Don't look now, buddy, but your shirt is disappearing too!" Face looked down, watching his shirt seem to disintegrate into threads and then disappear before his eyes. "What the hell... is it?" "CUT!" "What is it, Richard?" The Director asked with a long sigh. "This is blatant gratuitous exploitation of Dirk!" Richard shook his head at the blond actor. "I can't believe you're letting them do this to you! Do you want to play pretty bis hand. "Y' sure about that?" asked Dibley. "Frack..." Starbuck muttered. * * * * * Sire Solon, the Chief Opposer, stood beneath the Tribunal dusting off his robes. After all, he hadn't been seen for sectars, and since he was only a supporting character, they had only given him one change of clothes. They were getting a bit ripe too, come to mention it. Luckily, he had affected the dress of his clan-the MacSolon's-and had opted to go without the traditional Colonial briefs, which on the surface, was odd for one in the legal profession, since usually he always had his briefs ready. It was much cooler, and so much more comfortable, especially when one was expected to stand around waiting for the next courtroom episode-and then only to find some twit named Memnon replacing him. "What was it you wanted to say?" Vela asked him. He looked around the courtroom at the inebriated tribunal; the flickering red and green lights covering Glen Larson; the collection oarce know he's gone." CHOP!!!! "Not bad at all," said Mrs. Peel, handing Iblis a spray perfume from her purse. "For a mere mortal." "Pah!" spat Iblis, at last clean of the flying equus' token of affection. They glared at each other from across the arena. The flying equine was rubbing his snout on Rover, but that doesn't come into this story at all. He continued to watch Starbuck practice, tempted from time to time to use a blast of power and destroy him now. However, the grinning face of the eques from across the arena made him think better of it. "Ah!" said Starbuck, as a stroke of his sword cleaved the handle of Bunyon's ax in half. "He's ready!" said Bunyon. "He's ready!' chanted one of the priestesses. She was at once joined by the others. "He's ready! he's ready!" "How in Hades Hole did I get here?" asked Adama, looking across the green, then down at his golf club. Search me. ======= HOW did Adama get onto the fairway? WHAT will haoys and playboys the rest of your career?" Dirk shrugged, letting the make-up people spray him with a fine mist so his finely sculpted chest glistened with fake sweat. "It's all right by me." "And why's he sweating?" Richard asked, as he watched the effect. "He's flying into the interdimensional cross currents! In a super-charged Pram! That's almost as good as air-conditioning." "Sounds like hard work to me," the make-up girl grinned. "I'll tell you all about it after this take..." Dirk winked at her. "Alright, everybody! Take your places! Action!" "What happened to all the other characters?" asked the make-up girl, quietly, of the script-girl. The other just shrugged. "I can't imagine!" said Ronald D. Moore, drink in hand. "CUT! Ron, shut up!" "k! Sheesh!" "ACTION!" The interdimensional air seemed to crackle with energy as they raced towards the finish line. "I can't believe we're winning this easily!" Face enthusf people who had spiraled through the wormhole on the vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, ubere he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside, most of them having nothing to do with the charges against the Captain; the child serving drinks; and the large marsupials which seemed to make intermittent appearances based on which Winter Solstice ballad was being sung... badly. "I believe its time to take the festivity lighting down. It's well after the New Yahren, after all." Solon told them with all the authority he could muster after a few spiced ambrosias. "What lighting?" asked Memnon. "The Yule lighting, Sire Memnon." "You'll do what with the lighting?" replied the elderly Jurist. "No, Sire!" said Solon, raising his voice slightly. "The YULE LIGHTING. The decorative lights leftover from the..." "And you'll take them down?" asked Memnon. "Eh?" "Well it is rather past season. And this is a Tribunal after all, Sire." Sppen to Apollo at his Tribunal? IS Starbuck ready to face the vile Count Iblis? WHY is Igraine serving drinks? How will Apollo siring all these children affect things with Sheba? WHERE is Blip in this one? OR Lucifer, for that matter? WILL Larson ever learn to sing? WHAT will happen to Moore? (Personally, I can't imagine.) WHICH priestess is the one with the hugest bazooms? IS this thing EVER going to get to a resolution? For the answers to whichever of these questions we can figure one out to, don't miss the next lactatingly expressionless episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear Baltar say, "I'm objectionable!" ======= The Guy Behind Ironside's Wheelchair Is Still Pushing Dope will not be seen at this time, in order that we may shove the following program in front of you. The Starbuck Chronicles-Part 70-Who'd da thunk? It's amazing how in just the right set of circumstances, you can actually delude yourself into thinking you're capable of doing things thated. "This was so much easier than the average A-team episode where I get thrown into a pool, or beat up... or shot." Starbuck startled. "You too? I've crash landed, torn up my leg, been hunted by Borellian Nomen, been knocked out by people with Irish accents, been messed up in Triad, been framed for termination, and was almost shot by an ex-girlfriend." He shuddered. "And that's just canon. You wouldn't believe what they do to me in the fan fics!" "Oh, wouldn't I?" Face returned sardonically. "Everyday is 'Pick on Face Day' over at the A-Team Fanfiction Archives." "Oh? Lords, those people don't miss a trick, do they? Have you had a mental breakdown?" "Several. Have you had your long lost father drop dead just before you found out who he was?" Face countered. "No. Instead, he made my ex-prostitute lover promise to keep the father-son relationship a secret, under the pretense that I would do something stupid like leave the service," Starbuck returned. "Oh," olon was getting a bad feeling that this wasn't going quite right. "I don't know about any past Tribunal's, young man," intoned Memnon, shaking a bony finger at Solon, "but I think we ought to get on with the proceedings at hand, don't you?" "W...I...well of course," sighed Solon. "Good, let's get going, then," said Memnon. "And will someone turn off those colored lights, please? Thank-you." "May auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to chance, may auld acquaintance be forgot just like your underpants." Glen began to sing, once again attempting to rise out of his Tribunal chair, but the festivity light strand held him in place. Solon became aware of a breeze in the Netherlands. It was always nippy there this time of yahren. It was even nippy in Belgium. He adjusted his robes, cursing the fact that he had accidentally tucked them into his sporran after leaving the turboflush. Occht! "I'm objectionable!" a gargly voice suddenly called out from under would never have occurred to you in a sane moment. Yeah, this was definitely one of those instances. Just how does a guy from a little known farming community find himself in an arena somewhere between Hades Hole and Cordugo Pit, facing off with the Prince of Darkness? Of course, the answer depended to a great extent on just how one defined "sane". Starbuck looked over at the collection of beautiful women who had rooked him into this. They were still chanting "He's ready! He's ready!". Well, he didn't feel all that ready. As he turned slowly in a circle, the weight of Excalibur in his hand, an arena appeared around him as if a heavy (stygian) mist had lifted, and it had been there all along. Crowds of people, some of them bizarrely dressed, were in the stands shouting "Huzzah!" as brightly coloured banners waved in the sudden breeze. Strangely, his mysterious mentors, the mighty warrior with the eternally flexing pecs and funny accent, and the guy with the axe, blue bFace frowned. "What is it with the original and the fan fic writers? Why do they like to torment us?" "Beats me." Starbuck shrugged. He then ducked, just in time to avoid a club that swung towards him out of the darkness. It vanished again, and he made a mental note to speak to certain fan-fic writers, when he got a chance. "Maybe to prove we can overcome anything and be back in fighting shape for the next story." He shuddered as his skin to began to crawl with the electricity in the air. It felt as though his hair was standing on end. "Starbuck, you hair is standing on end," Face told him. "It feels that way..." he murmured as shimmering waves of colour began to roll over them. If it wasn't for his sudden trepidation, he might have enjoyed the beauty. Ahead of them, crackling bolts of energy and firestorm danced across the interdimensional spacescape. A magnificent spectrum of colour and light promised a portent of some mystical or magical event. Only, they weren't sure wha table. Apollo moved it aside to reveal Baltar, curled up on the floor next to Borax. "You certainly are," the shapeshifter told him. "And so is your tailor. Who in The Pit does your suits?" "Aha!" said a voice, as a man with scissors in one hand and a (metric) tapemeasure around his neck ran onto the stage. "I zee! Anozer anti-French zentiment from you Philistines!" "Uh, Jean-Pierre!" said Adama. "Please!" "Pleeze what?" asked the costume designer, indigantly. "I am Jean-Pierre Dorleac! Ze premiere designer of ze entire star-zyztem!" He looked at Solon's clothes, and snorted in disgust. Then to Borax: "Who does ziz creature zink he iss, to say such..." "Hey," said Borax, "I was only..." "Only a total lowbrow, who haz no tatste at all! Look at zat suit! Where did you get zat? Hawaii or somezing? Pah! you are all alike! No understanding of ze true culture! Ze true style!" He hrumpphed, and stomped off stage, then turned around and came back. "Eh, Rovine, and bad feet, had disappeared (along with pedicurist, who in his off-centars was a podiatrist-after all, one can only put so much effort into nail polish and emery boards) into the same mist from which the arena had appeared. Well, that was just wrong. He could have used the moral support... not to mention his black leather jacket, which he figured the sculpted warrior had probably turned into a loin cloth by now. Hades, he could use some immoral support, come to think of it. He could clearly see Iblis at the other end of the arena. He was raising his hand, his fingers stretched out, and pointing it towards Starbuck. Mrs. Peel, at his side along with the rattily dressed Dibley, set down her champagne flute, and covered her eyes. A beam of light flashed in front of Starbuck's eyes, there was a mighty explosion, and smoke filled the air. He was dead. He had to be dead. After all, Apollo had been in a different time, a different place, and the SOL beings were obviouat it was, so a certain degree of the aforementioned trepidation, which, yes, was sudden, seemed to be justified. "Hey, Face. Did you notice that nobody else in the race is even close to us. We left them behind parsecs ago." "Yeah." He looked around, into the darkness. Despite all attempts, it did strike him as somewhat Stygian."Your point is?" "That maybe they knew something that we don't..." Face groaned. "Maybe the way to win the Perambulator 500 is to survive it! Let's get out of here!" Starbuck snapped the control stick forward, but there was no response. Again, he tried to regain control of the Silver Cross, but the souped up pram spiralled onward on the interdimensional flight path to God-knows-where. A barrage of drumfire deafened them, then it seemed to transform into Bwahahahahahaha!. "Any time now, Starbuck," Face hollered in the spaceman's ear, as his clothing continued to disintegrate and ... so did the pram! "We're breaking up!" "I don't recaonnie?" "Huh?" said Ronald Moore, looking up from his glass full of swizzle sticks. "You need anyzing designed for ze new show?" "I imagine I might, Jean-Pierre," answered Moore. "Oui! Bon!" He gave the rest one last look. "Philistines!" and stomped out. "Is that anywhere near the Philippines?" Solon asked. He had heard it was warmer there. "Can we get back to the proceedings at hand?" asked Vela, looking from the retreating designer, to Solon, then Apollo. "I'll drink to that!" said Bellisario. "Where'd everyone go?" asked Lucifer. Search me. Magically and metaphysically, Iblis suddenly stood before Starbuck. The warrior recovered quickly, and swung his broadsword, surprising the Count, but only managing to slice off a piece of white robe. ("Sacre Bleu! Watch ze costumes!" Jean-Pierre cried from the soundstage.) Starbuck swung again, bringing the tip of Excalibur close to Iblis' head. Once more, the Effervescence of Evil dodged sly busy elsewhere, probably trying to negotiate a cameo in the new series. The crowd roared, "Huzzah!" He realized his eyes were closed. Then again, what did it matter, if he was dead? But... he seemed to be having a lot of sentient... well, for him anyhow... thoughts for someone who was just incinerated by Mephistopheles. He knew he would probably regret it, but he opened his eyes anyway. To Starbuck's utter amazement, he still held Excalibur before him, both hands wrapped around the hilt of the huge sword. The blade was glowing a luminescent blue and almost seemed to have a mystical aura of energy around it... well, if you believed in that kind of mystical aura type thing, which Starbuck most definitely did not. No, it was merely the after-flash of the death beam, which he had amazingly deflected with the sword. Lords, he was pretty dang good. He peeked around the glowing edge of Excalibur, and slowly grinned. "Beginner's luck." Iblis roared, as he again raised hll asking you to go steady," Starbuck returned, as the stick came away in his hand. "Oh. Yeah. Right. Gotcha." The pram dissolved around them, and the two men were caught in the firestorm, the energy surrounding them, lifting them ever higher. They opened their mouths to scream in fear and protest, but bolts of energy shot through them, immuring them in pain and terror. They were tossed about like leaves in a cyclone and a thunderous roar with a detectable rolling of the 'R' declared, "There can be only one!" That can't bode well... the men thought simultaneously. Neither man was the least bit amenable to being immured in any fashion. Certainly not without the courtesy of being asked first. The firestorm and drumfire abruptly ceased, and they pitched downward into eternal (Stygian) darkness. Unexpectedly, a lamenting voice wailed behind them, "Well, your plastic surgeon did a rotten job!" "Oh God! That was Miri's voice!" "How do you know?" "I re-read the lasthe blow, and loosed a blast of power at his opponent. As before, it was deflected by the mystical blade. "Neener neeener neeeeeeener!" taunted Starbuck, as his vision once more cleared. Not waiting for Iblis to respond, he attacked again. This time, he felt the blade connect. The crowd roared as blood was drawn. Starbuck watched as the minions in the stands went wild, cheering. One fellow, dressed in a bizarre striped suit with a carnation in the lapel, rose to his feet, and began firing an antiquated weapon into the air. Another, a short weasly sort of fellow with a small black moustache, just stared, and sketched it all. A third, a fat man in a billowing robe, began singing and plucking on a sort of harp. "This is just so weird!" said Starbuck. He watched as the guy with the weapon was obliged to reload, then step down, and come to greet him. His name tag said HELLO. My name is Al. "Not bad, kid," said the pudgy fellow, with a scar down one cheek and a really bad tis hand. "Y' sure about that?" asked Dibley. "Frack..." Starbuck muttered. * * * * * Sire Solon, the Chief Opposer, stood beneath the Tribunal dusting off his robes. After all, he hadn't been seen for sectars, and since he was only a supporting character, they had only given him one change of clothes. They were getting a bit ripe too, come to mention it. Luckily, he had affected the dress of his clan-the MacSolon's-and had opted to go without the traditional Colonial briefs, which on the surface, was odd for one in the legal profession, since usually he always had his briefs ready. It was much cooler, and so much more comfortable, especially when one was expected to stand around waiting for the next courtroom episode-and then only to find some twit named Memnon replacing him. "What was it you wanted to say?" Vela asked him. He looked around the courtroom at the inebriated tribunal; the flickering red and green lights covering Glen Larson; the collection ot episode." "Oh...ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!" WHAT will befall our heroes, in the eternal (Stygian) darkness? WHY is it dark? DOES it have to be eternal (as well as Stygian)? WHO said "There can be only one!"? Only one what? WHERE did all the arcing energy come from? (I'll try and find the answer. Quick!) HOW did the Pram break up? CAN I keep coming up with more adverbs? WHY did Miri shout the remark about the plastic surgeon? DID the Butler Guy really get transferred to the soundstage, or was that just an incredibly clever plot device? HOW did Baltar end up playing Baltar again? WHAT took us so long to bring you another Chron? For the answers to these, and possibly a few other questions that only an obsessive-compulsive narcissistic paranoid would even care about, don't miss the next freely ungroundedly-arcing, free electron-packed episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear Murdock say, "I don't think I've ever been to Pasadena!" ======= ie. "Howza'bout ya comin' and woikin' fer me?" "Ah, well, I..." began Starbuck, when a (stygian) hush fell over the arena. Everyone was looking behind him. He turned, and there was Iblis, seemingly unharmed, glowering at him with murderous eyes. "Ouch," said Iblis. "Frack," Starbuck replied. "What happens next?" one of the voluptuously bebosomed priestesses asked Belloby. Yes. WHAT will happen next? IS Iblis really hurt? WHAT will happen to Starbuck next? WILL the testy designer get a gig with Moore? DOES Belloby have a plan? DOES anyone have a plan? NOT the writers, that's for darn sure. WILL Vela get the child support she deserves? WILL Solon make it through without the heat turned up? WHAT about Boxey, Athena, and all the rest? OR for that matter, Baltar, Lucifer, and all the rest. COME to think of it, where's Blip? AND how did Adama come to be at the tribunal. WILL he ever finish his round of golf? HOW much does it cost for a round at Hades Hole? f people who had spiraled through the wormhole on the vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, ubere he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside, most of them having nothing to do with the charges against the Captain; the child serving drinks; and the large marsupials which seemed to make intermittent appearances based on which Winter Solstice ballad was being sung... badly. "I believe its time to take the festivity lighting down. It's well after the New Yahren, after all." Solon told them with all the authority he could muster after a few spiced ambrosias. "What lighting?" asked Memnon. "The Yule lighting, Sire Memnon." "You'll do what with the lighting?" replied the elderly Jurist. "No, Sire!" said Solon, raising his voice slightly. "The YULE LIGHTING. The decorative lights leftover from the..." "And you'll take them down?" asked Memnon. "Eh?" "Well it is rather past season. And this is a Tribunal after all, Sire." S When we last left our heroes they were winning the Perambulator 500, but then--as bolts of lightening in elements not normally conducive to discontinuous natural electric discharges in the atmosphere, shot through them--they abruptly realized it might not be a good idea. The Starbuck Chronicles Part 87 - July 25, 2008 By Senmut and Lisa Z. "Hannibal, why are we stopping?" asked BA. Well, asked might be too kind a word. It seemed as if all vehicles had come to a complete halt. Pedestrians too. Even the birds seemed to be in some kind of weird suspended animation. Oh, geez, there's Woody Woodpecker! Try as they might, nothing could move them. "I'm not sure, BA. Check under the hood?" It occurred to Hannibal that they had been at the Interdimensional Chancery waiting to see the outcome of the Perambulator 500. Now this... "Nothin' wrong here, Hannibal," reported BA, after a few moments. "I checked it all." "Here either!" Murdock informed, looking down his shirt For the answers to these, and other meritoriously effervescent questions, don't miss the next peristaltically purgiferous episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear Cassiopeia say, "How long is this going to go on, for Sagan's Sake?" King Arthur and Merlin sing off-key will not be seen at this time. In its place we present this troubling clef-hanger... ======= Iblis stared venomously at the Colonial Warrior. It was a farce! Not only was he battling the Lothario of the Galactica, instead of the gallant Captain Apollo, but the unlikely hero was actually winning. It was that sword. That blasted, cursed, damnable sword! Excalibur gleamed in the (stygian) light, the bluish aura clearly defined around the magnificent blade, as Starbuck held her before him. Iblis noted how the lighting accented the Lieutenant's eyes. Nice eyes. Kinda sexy, really. Probably irrelevant to the plot-or lack thereof-but a lovely effect nonetheless. "Perhaps that's wholon was getting a bad feeling that this wasn't going quite right. "I don't know about any past Tribunal's, young man," intoned Memnon, shaking a bony finger at Solon, "but I think we ought to get on with the proceedings at hand, don't you?" "W...I...well of course," sighed Solon. "Good, let's get going, then," said Memnon. "And will someone turn off those colored lights, please? Thank-you." "May auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to chance, may auld acquaintance be forgot just like your underpants." Glen began to sing, once again attempting to rise out of his Tribunal chair, but the festivity light strand held him in place. Solon became aware of a breeze in the Netherlands. It was always nippy there this time of yahren. It was even nippy in Belgium. He adjusted his robes, cursing the fact that he had accidentally tucked them into his sporran after leaving the turboflush. Occht! "I'm objectionable!" a gargly voice suddenly called out from under . He winked at Amy. "Hmm?" "Maybe we should check with the writers," Hannibal mused. "Yeah, that's what I'd do, Colonel," said Murdock, absently twisting a sauce-sodden bread stick around Amy's...ear. "Maybe they had another writer's strike?" "Or maybe they're busy, in one of those other universes," giggled Amy, sitting naughtily on Chameleon's lap. "Y'know. Crossovers?" "Possible," conceded Hannibal, puffing on his fumere---uh, cigar. "Those crossover universes tend to radiate in all directions. Murdock?" "Yes, uh, Colonel?" replied the other, combing the sauce out of his hair with the road map. "Go check on that, okay?" "On the crossovering, Colonel?" "Yeah. See if you can find out what happened to Face and Starbuck. Maybe that Sire Uri's place would be a good place to start." "But how do I get in, Colonel?" asked Murdock, untangling Amy's undies from someone's toes. "The cover charge..." "Remember? That Blip guy gave you a frey Starbuck was selected by the gods." Mrs. Peel suggested, reading Iblis' mind as she admired the Lieutenant's toned, rippling muscles, so well-developed and thoroughly defined, that glinted with the light sheen of perspiration on his half naked body... Hmmmm... where was I?... oh, yes... sorry `bout that. No... you're right. I'm not really that sorry. "Cos `is eyes matched the sword?" Dibley asked, screwing up `is...umm, his, face in doubt as he followed the script. "Absolutment!" Jean-Pierre declared from off stage, pleazed to see his colour coordination had extended into the special effects department. "Oh, all right then." Dibley shrugged. He turned to his better dressed, but less personable brother. "Wot ya gonna do now, Ibs?" Still quietly fuming, a slow, malignant smile crossed Iblis' features. He raised his hands, palms up. It looked as though he was straining to lift a heavy force, his arms trembling as they drew parallel to his shoulders, his eyes tua table. Apollo moved it aside to reveal Baltar, curled up on the floor next to Borax. "You certainly are," the shapeshifter told him. "And so is your tailor. Who in The Pit does your suits?" "Aha!" said a voice, as a man with scissors in one hand and a (metric) tapemeasure around his neck ran onto the stage. "I zee! Anozer anti-French zentiment from you Philistines!" "Uh, Jean-Pierre!" said Adama. "Please!" "Pleeze what?" asked the costume designer, indigantly. "I am Jean-Pierre Dorleac! Ze premiere designer of ze entire star-zyztem!" He looked at Solon's clothes, and snorted in disgust. Then to Borax: "Who does ziz creature zink he iss, to say such..." "Hey," said Borax, "I was only..." "Only a total lowbrow, who haz no tatste at all! Look at zat suit! Where did you get zat? Hawaii or somezing? Pah! you are all alike! No understanding of ze true culture! Ze true style!" He hrumpphed, and stomped off stage, then turned around and came back. "Eh, Re entry token. Good for one perversion per visit." He handed Murdock the aforementioned token. "How'd you get it?" "I'm the Colonel. Remember?" Hannibal grinned around his fum....uh, cigar. "Okay. Colonel. Hey, BA, wanna..." "NO! I ain't goin' into no den of sin witch you, fool!" "Besides, he hasn't got a ticket!" mumbled Chameleon, from....never mind. "Shut up, fool! "BA," said Hannibal, "you really ought to quit saying that all the time. Especially to Murdock." "Yeah," said Amy, tugging mightily to remove her elbow from Chameleon's trouser pocket. "Yeah," agreed Murdock. "I mean, I'm a sensitive guy, BA, and it sets my therapy back when you do that." "Don't steal my lines, Murdock," replied Amy. "You even called him that that time we went to Pasadena, BA!" "Pasadena? I don't think I've ever been to Pasadena," said Murdock, as he got out of the vehicle. "Yes you do!" said BA, sharply. "Your grandmother lives there!" rned upwards... and rolling around in his head like a slot machine in Carillon. Or possibly, one of those in Blip's place on Cordugo Pit. Actually, it doesn't really matter, but hey...He suddenly and sharply pulled one arm in towards his body and a strange burbling electronic noise filled the (stygian) depths. A gasp of dismay rose from the crowd. Starbuck turned abruptly to see a dark, glimmering cloud approaching from the West. "What in Hades Hole is that?" he muttered, getting the incommodious idea that he was probably the only one in the entire stadium who didn't know. Silence suddenly, not to mention, oddly... reigned. He turned back towards his adoring fans to find... he was utterly alone. Well, except for one incredibly smug looking Iblis standing some metrons away, his eyeballs flashing, and a pool of Cordugo notes lying inexplicably beneath his flowing robes. Even the Starbuckians had departed, leaving him to face whatever horror was hastily approaching him, aonnie?" "Huh?" said Ronald Moore, looking up from his glass full of swizzle sticks. "You need anyzing designed for ze new show?" "I imagine I might, Jean-Pierre," answered Moore. "Oui! Bon!" He gave the rest one last look. "Philistines!" and stomped out. "Is that anywhere near the Philippines?" Solon asked. He had heard it was warmer there. "Can we get back to the proceedings at hand?" asked Vela, looking from the retreating designer, to Solon, then Apollo. "I'll drink to that!" said Bellisario. "Where'd everyone go?" asked Lucifer. Search me. Magically and metaphysically, Iblis suddenly stood before Starbuck. The warrior recovered quickly, and swung his broadsword, surprising the Count, but only managing to slice off a piece of white robe. ("Sacre Bleu! Watch ze costumes!" Jean-Pierre cried from the soundstage.) Starbuck swung again, bringing the tip of Excalibur close to Iblis' head. Once more, the Effervescence of Evil dodged "Who?" "You know, the old broad with a pretty little flower bed of white gardenias," Hannibal called back. "Hmm," mused Murdock, thinking about it. "Oh, that Pasadena." "Yeah, fool. And packed in her rickety old garage is a brand new shiny red super stock Dodge," BA added with a scowl. "Go granny, go..." smiled Chameleon. "Uh...excuse me?" said Colicos, into the dark. The once-brightly lit set was now plunged into a (not really Stygian) darkness It was not only surprising, but made the script hard to read. "How am I supposed to do my part, with the power out?" "I can't imagine!" said RDM, drink in hand. "Maybe we should have gone for renewable energy?" "Oh shut up!" It was dark. And hot. Eerie. Downright Stygian. K'ching. "Starbuck? Are you here?" Face called out. It was like being in a Turkish Bath except for the blatant fact that he couldn't see a thing. Then there was the smell. Like burning sulphur. Rottnd his trusty sword, completely alone. Gulp. "How long is this going to go on, for Sagan's Sake?" Cassiopeia asked, as she stared up at the scene unfolding in the alternate universe. Starbuck still lay seemingly insensible on the ground, his head on her lap... and his hand inexplicably half way up her thigh. * * * * * "I'm growing weary of this plot device," Sire Memnon declared, banging a gavel on Glen Larson's head. "It is time for the Tribunal to reach a decision." Apollo looked at the Tribunal nervously. In the next few moments they would decide the fate of his paycheque. Or check, depending upon which side of the Galactica one was usually billeted on. (Oh, crossing over that 49th parallel universe was always a tricky matter as the war raged on.) Hades, maybe even his pension. He shook his head in mute wonderment as he tried to rationalize in his mind how he could have possibly sired four children of varying ages in one sexual encounter just over nine the blow, and loosed a blast of power at his opponent. As before, it was deflected by the mystical blade. "Neener neeener neeeeeeener!" taunted Starbuck, as his vision once more cleared. Not waiting for Iblis to respond, he attacked again. This time, he felt the blade connect. The crowd roared as blood was drawn. Starbuck watched as the minions in the stands went wild, cheering. One fellow, dressed in a bizarre striped suit with a carnation in the lapel, rose to his feet, and began firing an antiquated weapon into the air. Another, a short weasly sort of fellow with a small black moustache, just stared, and sketched it all. A third, a fat man in a billowing robe, began singing and plucking on a sort of harp. "This is just so weird!" said Starbuck. He watched as the guy with the weapon was obliged to reload, then step down, and come to greet him. His name tag said HELLO. My name is Al. "Not bad, kid," said the pudgy fellow, with a scar down one cheek and a really bad ten eggs. Or something even worse... There were also no Turks, but that's a different subject altogether. "Yeah." The voice came from several feet away. He sounded wearily resigned. K'ching. "Where the hell are we?" Face asked him. "Hades Hole." K'ching. "Hades Hole... umm...that can't be good." "Ya think?" Starbuck replied then his voice rose slightly. K'ching. "Hey, could somebody turn up the brimstone? We can't see anything!" At once, a glowing redness seemed obligingly to surround them, its light growing brighter as the odour worsened. Face glanced up at a rock wall that seemed to tower endlessly above him. Burnt into the surface were the words, Hades Hole, Level One. In several languages. Including Braille. "Level One?" "Yeah. There are several layers of Hades Hole. Didn't you know that?" Starbuck explained, as he sat on a rock flipping coins into a bag that was overflowing .K'ching. "Lords, I could use a fumsectars before. It was impossible. "Guilty!" Larson decreed. "Guilty!" Bellisario and Moore agreed. Their response was a bit slow, since they were at that moment busily dividing up a bottle of pearl onions between them, but it was heard by the assembled even so. Apollo shut his eyes, as `guilty' rang out through the gallery. Oddly, until this moment he actually hadn't noticed the gallery before. It had a fine display of art work, and a fair, heavy set man with a dignified bearing was straightening a frame. "Can't believe it, Sir." Cadet Pelias muttered. "Me neither." Apollo shrugged, feeling as though he was losing his mind. He stared closely at the picture within Pelias' grip. A man stood holding a sword, facing a robed figure. A flickering dark cloud of oppression and gloom surrounded them. Strangely, a fierce blue light surrounded the armed man, casting a sense of hope in an otherwise dour portrait. "Yours?" Apollo asked the cadet, who had resigned from tie. "Howza'bout ya comin' and woikin' fer me?" "Ah, well, I..." began Starbuck, when a (stygian) hush fell over the arena. Everyone was looking behind him. He turned, and there was Iblis, seemingly unharmed, glowering at him with murderous eyes. "Ouch," said Iblis. "Frack," Starbuck replied. "What happens next?" one of the voluptuously bebosomed priestesses asked Belloby. Yes. WHAT will happen next? IS Iblis really hurt? WHAT will happen to Starbuck next? WILL the testy designer get a gig with Moore? DOES Belloby have a plan? DOES anyone have a plan? NOT the writers, that's for darn sure. WILL Vela get the child support she deserves? WILL Solon make it through without the heat turned up? WHAT about Boxey, Athena, and all the rest? OR for that matter, Baltar, Lucifer, and all the rest. COME to think of it, where's Blip? AND how did Adama come to be at the tribunal. WILL he ever finish his round of golf? HOW much does it cost for a round at Hades Hole? arello about now." "How did you get that?" Face asked, running over to pick up a handful of gold coins. He bit one. It was the real McCoy. "It's our winnings, Faceman. Remember?" He looked around. K'ching. "Got any cards?" "How exactly did we get here?" Face asked, looking up at the precipitously...precipitous wall of rock. "Well, the head matron would say it had something to do with the way we chose to live our mortal lives... but personally, I think it has more to do with the Perambulator 500. I think we were set up." K'ching. "Who by?" "Count Iblis." K'ching. "Count Iblis? Who's he?" "Well, there's two theories on that. Some figure he's Diabolis. Others figure he's merely some advanced life form that is bored and has too much time on his hands," Starbuck replied with sudden inspiration insight. "He got tired of turning mankind against each other, and driving up the price of fossil fuels in some alternate universe, so now he's ploppehe service to pursue his career in the arts. "Yes, sir." Pelias agreed. "Nice." Apollo commented. "Wait just a centon!" Vela roared. "Sorry, you can't use that line." Solon told her. "What line?" Vela asked, more quietly this time. "Just a centon." Solon repeated. "Made you say it!" Vela laughed. All her children laughed, and Puppis slapped her on the back. "Way to go, Mom!'" "Dangnammit!" Solon cursed. There had been a ban in effect for the most overused phrase in a single story ever since... well, I digress... "What was it you wanted to say, Miss Vela?" He looked down, and the Butler guy was there, handing him a platter upon which sat a bar of soap. He scowled, and turned back to Vela. "That's Ms.Vela." "Not here," said Sire Memnon. "We're all a bunch a patriarchialist sexist porcines, here, remember." "Yeah, whatever. I just wanted to say that it was never me who wanted to slap a paternity suit on Captain Apollo. I thought For the answers to these, and other meritoriously effervescent questions, don't miss the next peristaltically purgiferous episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear Cassiopeia say, "How long is this going to go on, for Sagan's Sake?" King Arthur and Merlin sing off-key will not be seen at this time. In its place we present this troubling clef-hanger... ======= Iblis stared venomously at the Colonial Warrior. It was a farce! Not only was he battling the Lothario of the Galactica, instead of the gallant Captain Apollo, but the unlikely hero was actually winning. It was that sword. That blasted, cursed, damnable sword! Excalibur gleamed in the (stygian) light, the bluish aura clearly defined around the magnificent blade, as Starbuck held her before him. Iblis noted how the lighting accented the Lieutenant's eyes. Nice eyes. Kinda sexy, really. Probably irrelevant to the plot-or lack thereof-but a lovely effect nonetheless. "Perhaps that's whd you and I into Hades Hole for a laugh." K'ching. "The Devil?" "Yes..." The voice was ethereal and seemed to come from all around them. "Holy..." Face stuttered, looking around in wonder. "That too..." the ethereal voice replied. "Ah, John. Stop fooling around," Starbuck demanded. A moment later his pants-for that was all he was dressed in, and even those were tattered-turned white. A moment later an equally semi-nude Face's pants also turned white. Typically, a man dressed in a glowing white suit was standing beside them. "Nice imagery," Face remarked. "Except all this brimstone seems to be casting a pink tone onto your suit." "Pink?" John wrinkled his face in dismay as he looked at the effect. "That can't be. Heavenly agents can't be... pink. It ruins the symbolism." "Why can't Heaven be pink?" Face enquired. "I saw pink in a commercial once, with all the babies floating around on clouds, and stuff." He had a pink shirt in his wardroperhaps... instead of settling monetarily... we could come to some other arrangement, Sire Solon." She turned to regard the Captain. "Wait!" said Baltar, for some unexplored reason holding Hummer's vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el- mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside, and smoking. "Don't I get to say anything in this episode?" "NO!" said Adama. "Bummer!" said the traitor. "That's `Boomer'." Boomer corrected him. "That's `Hummer'," Hummer added simultaneously. "Oh please!" sighed Athena. She noticed Igraine looking at her, and felt a sudden urge to adjust her undies. "Uh, what did you have in mind?" Apollo asked Vela nervously. Several scenarios, all hideously be-doomed, flashed through his mind. Vela waggled her eyebrows and grinned. "Well, you see, what I had in mind was..." "HALT!" cried a voice, just as the vile, disgusting, evil, horrific, Satanic, hellish, and really, really bady Starbuck was selected by the gods." Mrs. Peel suggested, reading Iblis' mind as she admired the Lieutenant's toned, rippling muscles, so well-developed and thoroughly defined, that glinted with the light sheen of perspiration on his half naked body... Hmmmm... where was I?... oh, yes... sorry `bout that. No... you're right. I'm not really that sorry. "Cos `is eyes matched the sword?" Dibley asked, screwing up `is...umm, his, face in doubt as he followed the script. "Absolutment!" Jean-Pierre declared from off stage, pleazed to see his colour coordination had extended into the special effects department. "Oh, all right then." Dibley shrugged. He turned to his better dressed, but less personable brother. "Wot ya gonna do now, Ibs?" Still quietly fuming, a slow, malignant smile crossed Iblis' features. He raised his hands, palms up. It looked as though he was straining to lift a heavy force, his arms trembling as they drew parallel to his shoulders, his eyes tube, after all. There was nothing wrong with pink. "Did you say 'agents'?" Starbuck asked. K'ching. "Or angels?" "Yes," John smiled enigmatically. "God, I wish you'd quit doing that!" "I never said..." John grinned. "Stop it!" He'll never quit, the twit! "Hey, who let you in here?" asked John of the Butler Guy. Wouldn't you like to know!!!!!!! ======= WHO let the Butler Guy in? WHAT was John going to really say? WHY would Murdock deny ever having been to Pasadena? CAN power be restored to our heroes (and villains, yeah. Okay.) before the stuff in the fridge melts? WILL Starbuck and Face get back in the race? IS the race still on, or did they indeed win? HAS Adama made a killing in the cattle futures market? DO the cattle hold it against him? WHY does anyone have pizza sauce in their hair? JUST WHICH perversion will the ticket to Sire Uri's place be good for? For the answers to these and myriadly additional fractal interroga Count Iblis began to move in on Starbuck. He tread upon ever- growing heaps of Cordugo notes, each with Sire Uri's portrait upon them. Trying to buck up his courage, the besworded Viper pilot taunted his foe. "Whatcha gonna do, Jowls? Kill me with interest rates?" But, before the bad guy could so much as respond, they were both distracted by the new voice, booming across the (stygian) expanse of their arena. "Who dares interfere?" demanded Iblis, his attention momentarily diverted from Starbuck. "Me, that's who!" repeated the voice, and both combatants looked up, into the (stygian) sky. There, silhouetted against the fiery vault, was the flying equine, slowly descending to the ground. Astride the beast sat a woman, obviously so from her long flowing golden hair, but Starbuck could make out no other details. Slowly, the beast settled to earth, and (No, not THE Earth the Fleet is looking for. It's just an expression. The equivalent of ground. Dirt. The thing you fall onto or trned upwards... and rolling around in his head like a slot machine in Carillon. Or possibly, one of those in Blip's place on Cordugo Pit. Actually, it doesn't really matter, but hey...He suddenly and sharply pulled one arm in towards his body and a strange burbling electronic noise filled the (stygian) depths. A gasp of dismay rose from the crowd. Starbuck turned abruptly to see a dark, glimmering cloud approaching from the West. "What in Hades Hole is that?" he muttered, getting the incommodious idea that he was probably the only one in the entire stadium who didn't know. Silence suddenly, not to mention, oddly... reigned. He turned back towards his adoring fans to find... he was utterly alone. Well, except for one incredibly smug looking Iblis standing some metrons away, his eyeballs flashing, and a pool of Cordugo notes lying inexplicably beneath his flowing robes. Even the Starbuckians had departed, leaving him to face whatever horror was hastily approaching him, atives, be sure and catch the next all-encompassing retrogressively odoriferous episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear one of the randy priestesses say, "Pizza sauce. Now there's an idea!" Part 88 From Eugenia July 28, 2008 "I can't imagine!" said RDM, drink in hand. "Maybe we should have gone for renewable energy?" "Oh shut up!" WHEN CROSSOVER RADIATION ATTACKS... From out of the gloom came a projectile that rustled and made a papery splat as it hit RDM's face. "What was that for?" he asked muzzily. "If you, RDM, wrote it, it's garbage anyway, you hack!" In the shadows, cast and crew snickered. "Are you still mad about Kor?" RDM giggled drunkenly. "Still? I've yet to be angry, remember?" Colicos's voice slipped into that silky smoothness that heralded something bad was going to happen. A chill ran down RDM's spine as he heard footsteps cross the darkened set, and a the metallic rasp of a Centurion's sword being drawn. hat Vipers sometimes crash into. It's just an expression, so don't get so worked up, okay? Right. Now, where were we? Oh, yeah...) the rider dismounted. "Look, this is a private fight," said Iblis, annoyed. "You know, the fate of the entire universe at stake, and all that? So, could you..." "Starbuck!" cried the rider, her feet touching the ground. Starbuck squinted, trying to figure out just who this was, but sweat and smoke in his eyes were playing havoc with his vision just now. Suddenly, just as it hit him, another figure emerged, dismounting from the winged beast, and running towards him, arms outstretched. "DADDY!" "Oh Lords!" "Oh please!" groaned Iblis. "Not more kids!" Dibley exclaimed. "We jus' got rid of the last lot!" "Ouch!" cried Cassie, jumping to her feet, and then reveling in the sound of Starbuck's head thumping on the ground as it slip off her lap. "Wait a cen.....moment!" said Belloby, watching it all unfold. "This wasn'nd his trusty sword, completely alone. Gulp. "How long is this going to go on, for Sagan's Sake?" Cassiopeia asked, as she stared up at the scene unfolding in the alternate universe. Starbuck still lay seemingly insensible on the ground, his head on her lap... and his hand inexplicably half way up her thigh. * * * * * "I'm growing weary of this plot device," Sire Memnon declared, banging a gavel on Glen Larson's head. "It is time for the Tribunal to reach a decision." Apollo looked at the Tribunal nervously. In the next few moments they would decide the fate of his paycheque. Or check, depending upon which side of the Galactica one was usually billeted on. (Oh, crossing over that 49th parallel universe was always a tricky matter as the war raged on.) Hades, maybe even his pension. He shook his head in mute wonderment as he tried to rationalize in his mind how he could have possibly sired four children of varying ages in one sexual encounter just over nine "Ah, aren't we fortunate not to have insubstantial CGI yet?" The oscillating red light from the Centurion's helm dimly lit his face...and the malevolent smile he had assumed. "Uh...what are you going to do with that?" RDM asked nervously, backing away as Colicos advanced. "Why should it worry you? It's merely a prop..." Colicos gave the sword a few swings testing the weight and balance. Again, there was snickering from the shadows. "You could hurt someone with that! Like me!" "Isn't that the point?" Colicos's grin widen and with startling quickness had the tip of the sword underneath RDM's nose. "Now, how the hell did you get here?" "I don't know," RDM babbled, dropping his drink. The glass shattered as it hit the floor. "Well, that explains a lot." "It does?" "Yes, how can we expect you to keep track of the characters when you can't even keep track of your own movements." "I could use a drink," RDM murmured. "You've had enough." The sword ft in the script." She turned to the rest. "Was it?" "Not that I read," replied Myrtle and the rest. WHAT is going on with Starbuck and these new arrivals? IS Count Iblis plotting some new horror for him? WHAT will Vela ask for from Apollo? WILL Bellisario or Moore get the most onions? WHERE did the gallery of spectators down in Hades Hole go to? WHAT of Boxey, and the rest? WHY haven't we seen Colonel Tigh for a while? COME to think of it...no, never mind. For the answers to these, and possibly a few other questions, don't miss the closest forward-numbered sequentially-placed without going over episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear the Butler Guy not say, "Red Rover, Red Rover, send the ghost of Ortega right over!" ======= Starbuck Chronicles Part 72 In the beginning... there was some reason... but that was 71 episodes ago. Bwahahahahahaha! * * * * * "Daddy!" The little blonde haired angel flew towards Starbuck with the ensectars before. It was impossible. "Guilty!" Larson decreed. "Guilty!" Bellisario and Moore agreed. Their response was a bit slow, since they were at that moment busily dividing up a bottle of pearl onions between them, but it was heard by the assembled even so. Apollo shut his eyes, as `guilty' rang out through the gallery. Oddly, until this moment he actually hadn't noticed the gallery before. It had a fine display of art work, and a fair, heavy set man with a dignified bearing was straightening a frame. "Can't believe it, Sir." Cadet Pelias muttered. "Me neither." Apollo shrugged, feeling as though he was losing his mind. He stared closely at the picture within Pelias' grip. A man stood holding a sword, facing a robed figure. A flickering dark cloud of oppression and gloom surrounded them. Strangely, a fierce blue light surrounded the armed man, casting a sense of hope in an otherwise dour portrait. "Yours?" Apollo asked the cadet, who had resigned from tlicked and a drop of blood appeared on the end of RDM's nose. "Ow! That hurt!" "Good! It was supposed to, you hack." Part 89 By Lisa Z. and Senmut The X-Files Resurrects Wolfgang Puck will not be seen at this time. In its place, we present the following horror. ======= When we last left our heroes, Starbuck and Face had won the Perambulator 500, retrieving the A-team's retirement funds, and a quantum or two in spare change, but were then suddenly plunged into the (Stygian) darkness of Hades Hole, since that particular filming location is dirt cheap compared to LA or Vancouver, thus the reader might have noticed by now that the writers are favouring it. Just how many plotlines can two BSG writers come up with for Hades Hole, you might ask? Or, you might not. Regardless, we now return you to yet another adjectively stirring episode of... The Starbuck Chronicles-onicles-onicles-onicles-onicles-onicles-onicles-onicles (The echo in Hades Hole is terrible!) ergy usually reserved for children and ion propulsion units. Sometimes Cylon pulsar cannons, too, but not all the time. "Uh... Miri..." Starbuck gasped and wheezed as Iblis looked on with an expression of malevolent pleasure. How on Attila could this have happened? The Lieutenant's chest felt tight with the pent up anxiety of a spastic bladder as the tiny proponent of exponential energy thrust itself into him (which admittedly was a switch), and clutched his leg with the desperation of a wild daggit shown food for the first time in a sectar. "Starbuck!" Miri breathed, smiling her beauty queen best and thrusting her chest forward for the best camera angle. "I thought we'd never find you!" "Miri... but..." he sputtered, totally dumbfounded. Hades, he hadn't slept with the young woman! He couldn't have...could he??? The Lords only knew how tempting it was, but he had been surrounded at all times by her siblings, not to mention a few Cylons and unicorns, then there was his he service to pursue his career in the arts. "Yes, sir." Pelias agreed. "Nice." Apollo commented. "Wait just a centon!" Vela roared. "Sorry, you can't use that line." Solon told her. "What line?" Vela asked, more quietly this time. "Just a centon." Solon repeated. "Made you say it!" Vela laughed. All her children laughed, and Puppis slapped her on the back. "Way to go, Mom!'" "Dangnammit!" Solon cursed. There had been a ban in effect for the most overused phrase in a single story ever since... well, I digress... "What was it you wanted to say, Miss Vela?" He looked down, and the Butler guy was there, handing him a platter upon which sat a bar of soap. He scowled, and turned back to Vela. "That's Ms.Vela." "Not here," said Sire Memnon. "We're all a bunch a patriarchialist sexist porcines, here, remember." "Yeah, whatever. I just wanted to say that it was never me who wanted to slap a paternity suit on Captain Apollo. I thought Part 89 "So..." Face glanced at Starbuck, who was still counting his money in the sear heat of Hades Hole, making neat little stacks of Interdimensional currency, and occasionally biting on a coin to ensure it was genuine, and pleased that the low humidity meant that the paper bills wouldn't wilt. "What now? How the hell do we get out of Hell?" "I'm still figuring that out for myself," Starbuck replied. "Any ideas?" "Sorry, I'm all of out 'Get out of Hell free' cards," Face replied. "Heck, I even lost my Verizon phone card." "There must be some way out. I've done this at least once or twice since this Chronicle was foisted on me, and by people who have since dropped out of the writing!," Starbuck mused, looking around for any stray Texans or winged equines. "Hmm. How do you get out of Hell? Face nodded, and then looked up as a loud thumping sound reverberated through the (Stygian) darkness, the sound getting louder, and closer. Face grinned, "Why you usefestering leg wound. Nope, not exactly a romantic setting. "You don't always have to actually sleep," said Mrs. Peel, stirring her drink with a gold swizzle stick and grinning at him. He took a step forward, the child by now securely fastened in a way that was already causing a tingling in his foot with the obstruction of his circulation. He reached down desperately to loosen the toddler from his limb. "C'mon sweetheart, go see Mommy." The child glanced up at him, blonde hair out of place on her dark features. Dark, jamocha skin and huge, brown eyes gazed up at him with wonder as she clung to him tightly. Starbuck shook his head in wonder and grabbed the blonde locks, which separated from her black, curly tresses easily. He stared at the tot as a sudden understanding hit him with the velocity and deadly impact of a laser bolt. "Baby ... Boomer's..." he muttered in horror. Lords, demographics had finally infiltrated his universe. "Here," said Mrs. Peel, fishing iperhaps... instead of settling monetarily... we could come to some other arrangement, Sire Solon." She turned to regard the Captain. "Wait!" said Baltar, for some unexplored reason holding Hummer's vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el- mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside, and smoking. "Don't I get to say anything in this episode?" "NO!" said Adama. "Bummer!" said the traitor. "That's `Boomer'." Boomer corrected him. "That's `Hummer'," Hummer added simultaneously. "Oh please!" sighed Athena. She noticed Igraine looking at her, and felt a sudden urge to adjust her undies. "Uh, what did you have in mind?" Apollo asked Vela nervously. Several scenarios, all hideously be-doomed, flashed through his mind. Vela waggled her eyebrows and grinned. "Well, you see, what I had in mind was..." "HALT!" cried a voice, just as the vile, disgusting, evil, horrific, Satanic, hellish, and really, really bad a Hell-icopter, of course." That was bad! Really bad! "You again? Do you have a printing press in your suit, or what? And why aren't your cards fireproof?" asked Starbuck. Kiss my asbestos! "Oh ha ha!" The Butler Guy just sniffed--actually, he lifted a placard that said sniff--and walked out of range. But as it turned out, the loud thumping was no helicopter. It was a... "A space shuttle!" Face exclaimed. "That's the...the...the..." "Holy frack! That's the Endeavour!" Starbuck shouted, jumping to his feet. It flooded back to him like a tidal wave, knocking him flat on his astrum. Four episodes, each one of them more painful than the one that preceded it. "Oh, Sagan..." he moaned, as the Earth shuttle came in for a landing, a terrible rumbling coming from her engines. Starbuck scrambled backwards on all fours, desperate to escape. He'd go to the furthest level of Hades Hole if he had to. Even further than that if necessary. "Whan her purse, and tossing him a small jar of cold cream. "Try this." Starbuck got the idea, and tried it on the girl. At once, her skin became lighter, which often happens when you cover your skin in thick, white, opaque cream. "Damn," muttered Iblis. "What's going one, here?" demanded Starbuck, as the tot started smearing some of the cream on his nose. It too became lighter. White even. He turned as Iblis ahemmed loudly, and stamped his foot. "Can we get back to the matter at hand, please?" asked the Lord of Darkness, unfortunately they were all out of cold cream to lighten him up. "I'm supposed to be annihilating the Schmuckliegh Minor system with a choking miasma of malignant evil at three. Time presses." "Huh? Oh, right," said Starbuck, as the little girl looked back towards her mother. Miri looked chagrined, and moved backwards. Starbuck picked up his sword again, when suddenly... * * * * * "You want what?" Apollo stared at Vela as if bewitched, Count Iblis began to move in on Starbuck. He tread upon ever- growing heaps of Cordugo notes, each with Sire Uri's portrait upon them. Trying to buck up his courage, the besworded Viper pilot taunted his foe. "Whatcha gonna do, Jowls? Kill me with interest rates?" But, before the bad guy could so much as respond, they were both distracted by the new voice, booming across the (stygian) expanse of their arena. "Who dares interfere?" demanded Iblis, his attention momentarily diverted from Starbuck. "Me, that's who!" repeated the voice, and both combatants looked up, into the (stygian) sky. There, silhouetted against the fiery vault, was the flying equine, slowly descending to the ground. Astride the beast sat a woman, obviously so from her long flowing golden hair, but Starbuck could make out no other details. Slowly, the beast settled to earth, and (No, not THE Earth the Fleet is looking for. It's just an expression. The equivalent of ground. Dirt. The thing you fall onto or tt could be further than the lowest level of Hades Hole?" a chorus of lamenting, tortured, never-resting, damned, condemned, lost, and otherwise having-a-bad-eternity souls cried out. Why, Hades hole's Bargain Basement, of course! (The fact that Sire Uri also held a considerable block of stock in the Hades Hole Bargain Basement as a silent off-shore partner, while interesting in itself, is in no way relevant to the story at hand, and may safely be left out, at this point. However, we shall be informing the Colonial tax authorities forthwith, so don't worry!) With that thought, and a collective groan from the aforementioned souls, a shimmering form appeared before him, gradually taking the shape of an inclinator. The doors slid open. It the Butler Guy held up a sign from within. "Oh God, not you again!" said Face. At that moment, a hideous, foul, gross, smouldering, stinking, ugly, disgusting, vile, and really really icky demon emerged from the (Stygian) darkness, and remindedbewildered and befuddled... which he was. He had been dragged through an excruciating series of episodes thinking that the woman intended to whack him with a paternity case and take his hard earned cubits and pension when all she really wanted was... "Customizing to the nth degree. That chartreuse carpeting has to go! I'm thinking dark blue velvet with matching curtains. Oh, and the seats pull out into a bed. I want some mag wheels, spoilers, surround sound system, digital holovids, pop-up potty with an auto-evac flushing system and a mini-bar. Now, mirrored ceilings would be nice..." She caught Apollo's shocked visage. "Well, then I can keep an eye on the kids when I'm driving... I mean piloting." "That's it? You just want me to customize your van?" he asked again. "Mini-shuttle!" Several people corrected him. "Oh, and the piece de resistance! I want that friend of yours, you know, the artist?" She pointed to Cadet Pelias off camera. "I want him to paihat Vipers sometimes crash into. It's just an expression, so don't get so worked up, okay? Right. Now, where were we? Oh, yeah...) the rider dismounted. "Look, this is a private fight," said Iblis, annoyed. "You know, the fate of the entire universe at stake, and all that? So, could you..." "Starbuck!" cried the rider, her feet touching the ground. Starbuck squinted, trying to figure out just who this was, but sweat and smoke in his eyes were playing havoc with his vision just now. Suddenly, just as it hit him, another figure emerged, dismounting from the winged beast, and running towards him, arms outstretched. "DADDY!" "Oh Lords!" "Oh please!" groaned Iblis. "Not more kids!" Dibley exclaimed. "We jus' got rid of the last lot!" "Ouch!" cried Cassie, jumping to her feet, and then reveling in the sound of Starbuck's head thumping on the ground as it slip off her lap. "Wait a cen.....moment!" said Belloby, watching it all unfold. "This wasn'nt the outside of the van." "It would be my pleasure, Madam. Will I be getting paid? I haven't had a cheque since resigning from the service." Pelias asked, hope shining brightly in his eyes. Yeah, the arts was a tougher gig than battling shape- shifting aliens. "Of course, Apollo will pay you." Vela smiled. "Whatever the going rate is." "What do you want on the vanscape?" Pelias asked. "Shuttlescape." They reminded him. He shrugged. If they were going to pay him, he'd call it whatever they wanted him to. "Oh, `Vela's Veeta' on one side, and `Vela's Mints' on the other. And maybe some illustrations of the product. It's good advertising for my business." She looked at the assembly, unsure why they were all groaning. "Wonderful ideas." Pelias winced inwardly. Cubits, cubits, cubits, he repeated in his head. He could do it. Money is good, starving is bad. "By the way, where is your mini-shuttle?" "Cordugo Pit Parking Lot." Vel Face that "we don't use that word down here!", before melting back into the aforementioned (Stygian) darkness. Face turned back to the inclinator. Level please? "Lowest level, and step on it!" Starbuck gasped as he crawled inside. "I see you, Double Skinny Half-Caff!" a powerful voice rang out. "Oh, NOT the crossover radiation again!" said Starbuck. Yes, posted the Butler Guy. The crossover radiation. Again! "C'mon, kid. We're going to take you home!" boomed the voice once more. Thank the nine Lords of Kobol, and the little Butler Guy as well, because the door slid closed, shutting the Earthling out. "Damn!" said Face. "Watch your language down here!" said a voice. Both men looked. It was "John", from the Ship of Lights. Again. "How'd you move so fast?" asked Starbuck. "This is television. Remember?" "Oh." "They aren't here," said the attendant at Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel and Fooling Around Paraphernaliat in the script." She turned to the rest. "Was it?" "Not that I read," replied Myrtle and the rest. WHAT is going on with Starbuck and these new arrivals? IS Count Iblis plotting some new horror for him? WHAT will Vela ask for from Apollo? WILL Bellisario or Moore get the most onions? WHERE did the gallery of spectators down in Hades Hole go to? WHAT of Boxey, and the rest? WHY haven't we seen Colonel Tigh for a while? COME to think of it...no, never mind. For the answers to these, and possibly a few other questions, don't miss the closest forward-numbered sequentially-placed without going over episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear the Butler Guy not say, "Red Rover, Red Rover, send the ghost of Ortega right over!" ======= Starbuck Chronicles Part 72 In the beginning... there was some reason... but that was 71 episodes ago. Bwahahahahahaha! * * * * * "Daddy!" The little blonde haired angel flew towards Starbuck with the ena replied. She looked to Boomer and Hummer. "Hey, Bummer, would you care to give us a lift on your he'enalu board?" "That's my vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside. No problemo, Dudette. Are you coming, Boomer?" "Nah, I think I'll stay here." Boomer replied, deciding that when the writers started to refer to him and Hummer in one breath as `Bummer' in two consecutive episodes, it was time to break up the dynamic duo. "Boomer, you're needed for the next scene in Hades Hole with Starbuck and the Baby Bummers... I mean Boomers." Someone called from off the set. "Oh? Well, all right then. I'll tag along. Could you drop me in Hades Hole, Hummer?" Boomer agreeably agreed. "Easy peasy, Pal. I think I have this whole navigation thing down to a science." He snorted in self- amusement. "Get it? Science?" Yep, it was definitely time to part company with the Emporium. "They left several episodes ago." "Uh huh," said Murdock, looking around. The machines were still making lots of noise, and people were still engaged in a variety of immoral acts, some of them on a high wire. All in all, things looked normal. "Well, don't mind if I look around, do ya? I got a pass." He waved the pass at the attendant. "By the way, where's Blip?" "Lunch." "Okay," said Murdock. The attendant punched his token (which wasn't fair, since the token had never done anything to him), and he was in. As he looked in every nook and cranny of the place, he began singing O do you know the way to Pas-a-dena? I've been away from you, sooooooooooo very long! "Oh, hi!" said Blip, suddenly there. "Enjoying your perverthion?" "Looking for my friends, actually," replied Murdock. "Of course, Faceman can be kinda perverted, so..." "Well, you might try the Hadeth Hole'th Bargain Bathement, actually," said the other, leering at a few customers. "It'th utergy usually reserved for children and ion propulsion units. Sometimes Cylon pulsar cannons, too, but not all the time. "Uh... Miri..." Starbuck gasped and wheezed as Iblis looked on with an expression of malevolent pleasure. How on Attila could this have happened? The Lieutenant's chest felt tight with the pent up anxiety of a spastic bladder as the tiny proponent of exponential energy thrust itself into him (which admittedly was a switch), and clutched his leg with the desperation of a wild daggit shown food for the first time in a sectar. "Starbuck!" Miri breathed, smiling her beauty queen best and thrusting her chest forward for the best camera angle. "I thought we'd never find you!" "Miri... but..." he sputtered, totally dumbfounded. Hades, he hadn't slept with the young woman! He couldn't have...could he??? The Lords only knew how tempting it was, but he had been surrounded at all times by her siblings, not to mention a few Cylons and unicorns, then there was his technician. "Launch when ready." Boomer hollered as he, Vela, the kids and Hummer stood on the board, pointed in the general direction of the vortex. * * * * * "Iblis, I expected more of you." Starbuck growled at the Count, waving his sword. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but I know the child isn't mine." "Blast." Iblis shrugged, realizing the folly. "Time for plan `B'." "Plan B?" Starbuck asked, trying to pull his leg free of the engaging child. "Yes, it's always good to have a backup plan, Lieutenant. Since I can't demoralize you by making you believe the child is yours, I will destroy them." Iblis returned, raising a hand towards the woman and child. "Wait just a centon!" Starbuck cried, as a large bouncy ball flew at his head from nowhere, hitting him square in the forehead. "Oww! What the frack was that for?" We've issued a moratorium on the uttering of that phrase. The little butler guy was back. "hually full." "Well, I don't know," replied Murdock. "They were in a race, see. Riding in the Perambulator...and I just don't see Faceman ever showing his face in a Bargain Basement. He's more of an Armani kind of guy, if you know what I mean." "Oh, yeah. Well, there'th alwath another poththibility. You could try over in Hadeth Hole'th Bargain Bathement II: The Revenge." "Uh, yeah." "Grandfather!" said Igraine, back in the Galactica reality. "Are you done, yet?" "Just checking on cattle futures," replied Adama. He punched in the numbers on the computer, when suddenly.... "WHY is the whole room suddenly bleeding into a hole in your computer screen?" asked Igraine. Around them, the entire room was bleeding into a hole in the Commander's computer screen. "Oh no! Bill Gates managed to get his newest OS into Battlestar Galactica! We're in trouble!" said Tigh. "No mong, Mega Brain!" Murdock swung wide a curtain, and there, in the Hadfestering leg wound. Nope, not exactly a romantic setting. "You don't always have to actually sleep," said Mrs. Peel, stirring her drink with a gold swizzle stick and grinning at him. He took a step forward, the child by now securely fastened in a way that was already causing a tingling in his foot with the obstruction of his circulation. He reached down desperately to loosen the toddler from his limb. "C'mon sweetheart, go see Mommy." The child glanced up at him, blonde hair out of place on her dark features. Dark, jamocha skin and huge, brown eyes gazed up at him with wonder as she clung to him tightly. Starbuck shook his head in wonder and grabbed the blonde locks, which separated from her black, curly tresses easily. He stared at the tot as a sudden understanding hit him with the velocity and deadly impact of a laser bolt. "Baby ... Boomer's..." he muttered in horror. Lords, demographics had finally infiltrated his universe. "Here," said Mrs. Peel, fishing iWhat phrase? `What the frack?'" Starbuck asked. No, the other one. "Wait just a centon?" Starbuck asked. A second bouncy ball, this one much large than the other, and coloured in a pleasant array of pastel swirls, hit him in the head. "Oww!" Starbuck cried again. "He doesn't learn, does he?" Iblis commented, lowering his hand and shaking his head. "Really?" Starbuck snarled. He moved closer to the Count. "Just a centon!" he yelled. Again, an even larger ball flew at him from off set. This time, however, he agilely stepped aside and the enormous orb hit Iblis in the head. "Just a centon!" Starbuck yelled again, twisting to the right as a humungous ball flew past him, again striking the count. "Damn you to Hades Hole!" Iblis cried as he fell to the ground. "If it's all the same to you, I don't think I'll give you the opportunity." Starbuck grinned. "Just a centon! Just a centon! Just a centon! Just a centeth Hole'th Bargain Bathement II: The Revenge booth, was a very annoyed-looking man, dressed in green. "Will someone PLEASE tell me what is going on???" demanded Colicos. Before either could respond, there was a small card, on a tray, floating in the air. Slowly, the Butler Guy materialized. Follow me, please! "What in Hades Hole for?" demanded Colicos, staying in character. (What a guy!) Because. "But...but..." spluttered RDM. "Shut up!" said Colicos, using his "Kor" voice. "Oh. Alright." "Okay, lemme see your pizza...uh, license, please," said a voice. Hannibal looked up, to see one of the scantily-clad priestesses, unseen for a number of episodes, at the window of their vehicle, with a badge pinned to her...dress, and a riding crop....I mean a ticket book in her hand. 'Excuse me?" he replied. "Look, bud, Don't give me any lip. I wanna see your lic..." She stopped, seeing the smears of red, all over the map, the seats, and tn her purse, and tossing him a small jar of cold cream. "Try this." Starbuck got the idea, and tried it on the girl. At once, her skin became lighter, which often happens when you cover your skin in thick, white, opaque cream. "Damn," muttered Iblis. "What's going one, here?" demanded Starbuck, as the tot started smearing some of the cream on his nose. It too became lighter. White even. He turned as Iblis ahemmed loudly, and stamped his foot. "Can we get back to the matter at hand, please?" asked the Lord of Darkness, unfortunately they were all out of cold cream to lighten him up. "I'm supposed to be annihilating the Schmuckliegh Minor system with a choking miasma of malignant evil at three. Time presses." "Huh? Oh, right," said Starbuck, as the little girl looked back towards her mother. Miri looked chagrined, and moved backwards. Starbuck picked up his sword again, when suddenly... * * * * * "You want what?" Apollo stared at Vela as if bewitched, on! Just a centon! Just a centon! Just a centon! Just a centon! Just a centon! Just a centon! Just a centon! Just a centon!" he cried, dodging balls left, right and center with the agility and grace of the star athlete he was, as the projectiles continuously pelted the Count. Cool! Dodge Ball. The butler guy grinned, batting the odd ball with his signpost as he stood by. Suddenly, a crash of thunder filled the air, and an equally impressive bolt of lightening shot across the sky. On the tail end of it was Bummer on their he'enalu board.. "Drop me here, Hummer." Boomer yelled out, looking below to see what appeared to be the Fisher Price Popcorn Lawnmower with Starbuck, Count Iblis, the little butler guy, a young woman and a child in the middle of it. "Sure thing, Boomer. Good luck!" Hummer cried, riding the arc of the lightening until Boomer was safe enough to jump. Boomer jumped down beside Starbuck, turning to assess the young woman. It he Amy-Chameleon partnership. She licked her lips. "Hey!" Where's your uniform?" demanded BA. "Pizza sauce. Now there's an idea!" "Well, actually, when we stopped suddenly..." began Chameleon. Amy giggled. "That doesn't make any sense!" declared Hannibal. "Like any of this does," grumbled BA. "Oh, no!" said John. "What?" asked Starbuck. "Something's wrong!" "Isn't it always?" muttered Faceman, looking around the Bargain Basement with a look of complete disdain. "No, this is really BAD! The continuum has a rip in it!" exclaimed John. "So do the sheets on my bed," said Face, fingering some bargain priced sheets. Ralph Lauren? Couldn't be! Not for this price! He grabbed a basket, beginning to pile sheet sets into it, and then headed for the Bed In A Bag section. "So?" "But..." said John, just as the air seemed to smear, and several people tumbled into the "room". Adama, his putative grandchild, Colonel Tigh, anbewildered and befuddled... which he was. He had been dragged through an excruciating series of episodes thinking that the woman intended to whack him with a paternity case and take his hard earned cubits and pension when all she really wanted was... "Customizing to the nth degree. That chartreuse carpeting has to go! I'm thinking dark blue velvet with matching curtains. Oh, and the seats pull out into a bed. I want some mag wheels, spoilers, surround sound system, digital holovids, pop-up potty with an auto-evac flushing system and a mini-bar. Now, mirrored ceilings would be nice..." She caught Apollo's shocked visage. "Well, then I can keep an eye on the kids when I'm driving... I mean piloting." "That's it? You just want me to customize your van?" he asked again. "Mini-shuttle!" Several people corrected him. "Oh, and the piece de resistance! I want that friend of yours, you know, the artist?" She pointed to Cadet Pelias off camera. "I want him to paiwas Miri. "Dear God... Miri ...what are you doing here? I thought I'd never see you again!" It had been the most amazing love affair of his life. He had known her for only moments, but that was all it took for him to fall head over heels in love with her. Their passion had burned brightly, but the flame had been extinguished far too soon. Miri had not been willing to leave her family behind on Attila to leave with him. It had broken his heart. "Uh... how did you manage to fit in a sexual encounter while I was changing clothes on Attila, Boom- Boom?" Starbuck asked. "Ever hear tell of foreplay?" "Well, at least I can manage to keep my clothes on for most of the scenes." Boomer returned to his half- dressed friend. "Boomer! Oh, Boomer!" Miri flew into his arms. "I heard Starbuck was here, and I just knew you would show up sooner or later!" Boomer held her tightly, inhaling her scent, before noticing the small child still clutching Starbuck's led whoever else we can think of to include. (Just for thoroughness, you understand!) "Uh oh," muttered Starbuck. No mong! "What's happening?" said the priestess, stopping suddenly with her hand in Hannibal's pocket. "I don't know," said Amy. "Huh, Fool?" said BA, as the vehicle began to shake. "Oh no!" said the priestess. WHAT has gone wrong, suddenly? WHY was one of the priestesses acting like a cop? WHERE are the rest of her bunch? WILL we ever figure this thing out? WHEN will it all end???? WHO is behind these sudden bizarre happenings? CAN a bargain basement really have a revenge? WERE those really Ralph Lauren sheets? WHAT makes a basement a bargain anyway, and did Murdock's token get punched with a round or a star-shaped chad? WAS it hanging? WHY does Lisa put her name first on the credits? Eh? WHY doesn't Senmut have a last name? IS it a 'Cher' thing? Huh? CAN the Perambulator race still be won, and the A-team's fornt the outside of the van." "It would be my pleasure, Madam. Will I be getting paid? I haven't had a cheque since resigning from the service." Pelias asked, hope shining brightly in his eyes. Yeah, the arts was a tougher gig than battling shape- shifting aliens. "Of course, Apollo will pay you." Vela smiled. "Whatever the going rate is." "What do you want on the vanscape?" Pelias asked. "Shuttlescape." They reminded him. He shrugged. If they were going to pay him, he'd call it whatever they wanted him to. "Oh, `Vela's Veeta' on one side, and `Vela's Mints' on the other. And maybe some illustrations of the product. It's good advertising for my business." She looked at the assembly, unsure why they were all groaning. "Wonderful ideas." Pelias winced inwardly. Cubits, cubits, cubits, he repeated in his head. He could do it. Money is good, starving is bad. "By the way, where is your mini-shuttle?" "Cordugo Pit Parking Lot." Velg. "Miri? Who's this?" his voice was quiet, his eyes already damp with unshed tears. "Boomer, this is Jasmine. Your daughter. Honey, come see Daddy." The child suddenly looked up at Starbuck with wide eyes. "You're not my Daddy!" she accused him, as though it had been all his idea. Starbuck smiled at the cherub. "No sweetheart, he's over there with your Mommy." Suddenly, from beneath a pile of balls, Iblis roared in anger. He stood up, raising his arms and started rhyming off incantations, none of which come to mind right now, but I assure you, they were all evil, wicked and spoken in the Devil's Tongue-which sounds something like Latin, but with much more spewing forth of spittle and other things disgusting, which is why you will ultimately need a large cloth to wipe your chin. Now, where was I? Each ball began to mutate, twisting and writhing as demons arose from the seemingly innocuous toys. They formed a line, facing our heroes, untunes restored for good? DIDN'T we already do that? WHAT is a "double-skinny half-caff" anyway? IS it possible to fly the Space Shuttle out of Hades Hole? WHAT the, well, Hades Hole is it even doing in...Hades Hole? For the answers to these and a whole bunch of other things, maybe, don't miss the next tiresomely enervating, neurologically habituating episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear Zeibert on the Rising Star say, "Come in. It's broken!" Or, if you're VERY naughty, Baltar might say.... "What in Hades Hole ever happened to Belloby?" ======= The International Space Station Gets Curb Feelrs will not be seen at this time. In it's place, we present the following decaying program. Previously... When last seen, our heroes were involved in a variety of misbehav...activities. The Butler guy was teasing Baltar with floating cards, Faceman was stuffing silk bedding into a basket, Adama and his entire extended family, plus Coa replied. She looked to Boomer and Hummer. "Hey, Bummer, would you care to give us a lift on your he'enalu board?" "That's my vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside. No problemo, Dudette. Are you coming, Boomer?" "Nah, I think I'll stay here." Boomer replied, deciding that when the writers started to refer to him and Hummer in one breath as `Bummer' in two consecutive episodes, it was time to break up the dynamic duo. "Boomer, you're needed for the next scene in Hades Hole with Starbuck and the Baby Bummers... I mean Boomers." Someone called from off the set. "Oh? Well, all right then. I'll tag along. Could you drop me in Hades Hole, Hummer?" Boomer agreeably agreed. "Easy peasy, Pal. I think I have this whole navigation thing down to a science." He snorted in self- amusement. "Get it? Science?" Yep, it was definitely time to part company with thetil forty strong they stood. "Frack." Starbuck muttered in horror, looking across at the demonic forms, many of them taking the shape of enemies of his past. Boomer slugged him in the arm. "Not in front of my daughter, Starbuck." "Right. Sorry." He replied. "What in Hades do we do now?" "I know exactly what to do." Boomer replied, as he paused, and then slugged Starbuck in the arm again. "Not in front of my daughter. We form our own line." He stood beside Starbuck, hands on his hips. Across from them, the demons of Iblis mimicked him, each putting hands to hips. Suddenly, and unexpectedly, the butler guy stood beside them. He held up a sign. Red Rover, Red Rover, send the ghost of Ortega right over! "Brilliant!" Starbuck cried. "For a centon there, I thought we were going to start Irish dancing." WILL Starbuck and Boomer prevail against Count Iblis and his line of forty Demons? IS it likely that the demons knlonel Tigh, tumbled out of a convenient space-time rip, and one of the scantily-clad priestesses was trying to feel up......manipulate a ticket book. A brief glance... "Oh, no!" said John. "What?" asked Starbuck. "Something's wrong!" "Isn't it always?" muttered Faceman, looking around the Bargain Basement with a look of complete disdain. "No, this is really BAD! The continuum has a rip in it!" exclaimed John. "So do the sheets on my bed," said Face, fingering some bargain priced sheets. Ralph Lauren? Couldn't be! Not for this price! He grabbed a basket, beginning to pile sheet sets into it, and then headed for the Bed In A Bag section. "So?" "But..." said John, just as the air seemed to smear, and several people tumbled into the "room". Adama, his putative grandchild, Colonel Tigh, and whoever else we can think of to include. (Just for thoroughness, you understand!) "Uh oh," muttered Starbuck. No mong! technician. "Launch when ready." Boomer hollered as he, Vela, the kids and Hummer stood on the board, pointed in the general direction of the vortex. * * * * * "Iblis, I expected more of you." Starbuck growled at the Count, waving his sword. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but I know the child isn't mine." "Blast." Iblis shrugged, realizing the folly. "Time for plan `B'." "Plan B?" Starbuck asked, trying to pull his leg free of the engaging child. "Yes, it's always good to have a backup plan, Lieutenant. Since I can't demoralize you by making you believe the child is yours, I will destroy them." Iblis returned, raising a hand towards the woman and child. "Wait just a centon!" Starbuck cried, as a large bouncy ball flew at his head from nowhere, hitting him square in the forehead. "Oww! What the frack was that for?" We've issued a moratorium on the uttering of that phrase. The little butler guy was back. "ow how to Irish Dance? CAN Ortega's ghost break through the meager line of defense? HOW can Apollo get back in time to help his friends? WHERE can they possibly go from here? Jig and reel your way into the next episode of the Starbuck Chronicles when you'll hear Maga, Taba and Bora say, "If Flatley makes us do one more high kick, we'll pound him into the ground until he's lower than a Borellian Sand Serpens." ======= Against my better judgment, we interrupt your usual programming for this special presentation in fabulous Technicolour. Here we'll answer all your questions and meet all your expectations-as long as you have none. When we last ran away screaming from our heroes, Starbuck, Boomer, Miri and the little Butler Guy were standing in an alternate dimension-turn left at Hades Hole and sprint down the back alley until you can smell the... uh, never mind... - against forty demons, all enemies of Starbuck incidentally. Yes, he had at least forty... the others didn't showAnd now, at (not) long (enough) last, we bring you Chapter 90, in that gripping, cloying, and awfully sticky saga, The Starbuck Chronicles Chapter 90 By Sen and Zaz Cutting Room Floor appearances by Eugenia, Robert and Carla Starbuck headed for the nearest exit, his ill-gotten acquisitions hanging from his pockets. He wanted to get away, before his not paying for them was noticed. After all, as a penalty, they might send him to, well, Hades Hole--The Reckoning... he reckoned. "Commander?" he suddenly stammered in surprise. Hey, it entirely changed his perspective on Hades hole and how much time he was spending here lately. After all, if the Commander hung out here, it couldn't be as bad as he'd been led to believe all these yahrens... "Starbuck?" bellowed Adama, upon disentangling himself from Tigh and the rest, and catching sight of the Lieutenant. "You? I should have known! You're always at the bottom of these messes. What in Hades Hole is going on, here?" What phrase? `What the frack?'" Starbuck asked. No, the other one. "Wait just a centon?" Starbuck asked. A second bouncy ball, this one much large than the other, and coloured in a pleasant array of pastel swirls, hit him in the head. "Oww!" Starbuck cried again. "He doesn't learn, does he?" Iblis commented, lowering his hand and shaking his head. "Really?" Starbuck snarled. He moved closer to the Count. "Just a centon!" he yelled. Again, an even larger ball flew at him from off set. This time, however, he agilely stepped aside and the enormous orb hit Iblis in the head. "Just a centon!" Starbuck yelled again, twisting to the right as a humungous ball flew past him, again striking the count. "Damn you to Hades Hole!" Iblis cried as he fell to the ground. "If it's all the same to you, I don't think I'll give you the opportunity." Starbuck grinned. "Just a centon! Just a centon! Just a centon! Just a cent up. What had at first appeared to be the beginning of an Irish Line Dance in true jig and reel fashion, turned into a rousing game of Red Rover, whereby the Butler Guy had just called over the ghost of Ortega. So loosen yer breeks, toss back yer whiskey, and slip oot yer clogs-do whatever it takes to prepare you for the 73rd adventure of the Starbuck Chronicles. "All right everybody, here he comes!" Starbuck exclaimed, watching the ghostly reflection of Ortega glare balefully at him as the former Colonial Warrior, now deceased, ran across the open spaces heading straight for Starbuck... at least it appeared that way from several hundred metrons away. "Uh... question, Bucko. If he's only an apparition, how do we stop him?" Boomer asked, locking arms with his friend. Ortega was definitely heading for Starbuck. You'd think he'd pick on the little Butler Guy, or the soft and sensual Miri, but nooooo! "Huh?" Starbuck asked. Honestly, it hadn't really occurred to A huge blast of flame roared up from the floor, and vanished into the (Stygian) gloom. "Well, actually," replied Starbuck, "now that you mention it, uh, sir..." "I think this is Hades Hole, actually," said a voice. It was Igraine. "This kid would know," Apollo groaned, from somewhere far off stage as he brushed up on his one man show for the Lost Souls Bar, Grill, and Exotic Booze Emporium. "Eh?" asked Adama. "How can you tell this is Hades Hole?" asked Tigh. "You ever see the saloon, on Equellus?" "Good point," replied the Colonel. "Or my first Day-Care center." "What is through here?" asked Colicos, uh, I mean Baltar. Just take a look. "I'll have you know I hate Butlers," said Baltar, glowering at the Butler Guy. "Especially those that aren't carrying a tray full of drinks and tasty treats." Ask me if I care, Toupe Breath! "Do you really wear a rug, Baltar?" asked Murdock, peering at a tortured soul writhing in theon! Just a centon! Just a centon! Just a centon! Just a centon! Just a centon! Just a centon! Just a centon! Just a centon!" he cried, dodging balls left, right and center with the agility and grace of the star athlete he was, as the projectiles continuously pelted the Count. Cool! Dodge Ball. The butler guy grinned, batting the odd ball with his signpost as he stood by. Suddenly, a crash of thunder filled the air, and an equally impressive bolt of lightening shot across the sky. On the tail end of it was Bummer on their he'enalu board.. "Drop me here, Hummer." Boomer yelled out, looking below to see what appeared to be the Fisher Price Popcorn Lawnmower with Starbuck, Count Iblis, the little butler guy, a young woman and a child in the middle of it. "Sure thing, Boomer. Good luck!" Hummer cried, riding the arc of the lightening until Boomer was safe enough to jump. Boomer jumped down beside Starbuck, turning to assess the young woman. It him until Boomer mentioned it. "Uh... good question. What did they do in the Virtual Season when Apollo and Sheba met up with the ship of demons?" "Uh... can't recall really." Boomer returned. "Miri? Do you know?" "Me? I wasn't there! I was doing that juicy number over at RKO, remember? Weren't you there?" she returned. "No... I was... frack, where the heck was I?" Boomer looked to Starbuck. "I don't know where you were, Buddy. No, wait. You were in Alaska, manning a radar station, in that made for TV flick with Cathy Lee Crosby. I think I was just growing my hair... as usual." Starbuck replied with a wry grin. "I... uh... wasn't privy to it all. Just like Bones. They kind of kept me in the dark, which isn't good for a fellow of my complexion." "Hey, I thought Sen filled you in on Bones." "Sen, huh? You two must be tight, Boom-Boom. Oh, right. You were featured in that story. I keep forgetting." Boomer shrugged, looking c very stone of the walls. It was a tad distracting, after all. "Just for this, I'm feeding you to Lucifer, when all is done!" "I can just imagine that," said RDM. "Ba!" said Baltar. "You couldn't imagine scrap metal in a wrecking yard." Good one! Now, if you'd care to part the curtain...? "A flaming bead curtain, colored red, and bearing a sign that says 'No Parking. Soul will be dragged away at owners risk and expense.'?" Yes. Baltar obeyed, and once inside, saw... "OH MY GOD!" shouted Tigh, as the curtain parted. "What?" asked Adama. "Is it a Cylon attack?" "No, Adama. No, it's even more hideous. More horrible!" "The IFB got wind of my cross-dressing?" Tigh winced. They were so far beyond that episode, he'd hoped it had been forgotten. "No," he whispered quietly. "What, then? Lords of Kobol, what?" "It's Battlestar Galactica, the Musical!" "I feel strangely drawn..." Baltar muttered, mesmerized. "Thwas Miri. "Dear God... Miri ...what are you doing here? I thought I'd never see you again!" It had been the most amazing love affair of his life. He had known her for only moments, but that was all it took for him to fall head over heels in love with her. Their passion had burned brightly, but the flame had been extinguished far too soon. Miri had not been willing to leave her family behind on Attila to leave with him. It had broken his heart. "Uh... how did you manage to fit in a sexual encounter while I was changing clothes on Attila, Boom- Boom?" Starbuck asked. "Ever hear tell of foreplay?" "Well, at least I can manage to keep my clothes on for most of the scenes." Boomer returned to his half- dressed friend. "Boomer! Oh, Boomer!" Miri flew into his arms. "I heard Starbuck was here, and I just knew you would show up sooner or later!" Boomer held her tightly, inhaling her scent, before noticing the small child still clutching Starbuck's lehagrined. "Sagan's sake, Starbuck. You have the Chrons..." "And, no, Senmut didn't fill me in on Bones! He locked me in a room, tied to an armchair, until I read the script." Did you resist? asked the little Butler Guy. "Well, yeah. For a while. But I had to sit there, watching all those old Technicolor travelogues, not to mention three Crime Does Not Pay shorts from M-G-M, till I cracked." "Oh you poor dear!" said Miri, embracing him, and cradling his head against her full, young, tender, swelling...well, you get the picture. "A fella can only take so many good endings," moaned Starbuck, handing her a tube of Clearisil for her full, young, tender, swelling pimples. Well, what did you think he meant? It was good! The Butler Guy insisted. Admit it. And Children Of Zohr was fab too. "What about mine?" asked another voice, from the back. Had me checking the weather forecast for weeks, Eric, replied the Butler Guy. Had to dryat's good," said Chameleon, suddenly there. (Basically, he fit. Who cares about plot holes?) "As do I," Adama nodded, woodenly moving with the traitor of humanity to join the chorus line. They linked arms and sang: There's no business, like war business, there's no business, we know! Everything about it is appalling! Everything the Cylons will allow! No where could you have that vicious feeling When you aren't killing some Cylons now! There's no people like war people They smile when they are low Yesterday they told you you would not go far But you showed them different in a Tauran Bar Next day on your Viper they have hung a star Let's go on with the show! Let's go on with the show! We now interrupt this edition of the Starbuck Chronicles for "Scenes from the cutting room floor": "STOP!!!!" Baltar screamed, looking upwards. "You're confusing me with Nicolas!!" "Who?" Adama asked. Baltar pulled og. "Miri? Who's this?" his voice was quiet, his eyes already damp with unshed tears. "Boomer, this is Jasmine. Your daughter. Honey, come see Daddy." The child suddenly looked up at Starbuck with wide eyes. "You're not my Daddy!" she accused him, as though it had been all his idea. Starbuck smiled at the cherub. "No sweetheart, he's over there with your Mommy." Suddenly, from beneath a pile of balls, Iblis roared in anger. He stood up, raising his arms and started rhyming off incantations, none of which come to mind right now, but I assure you, they were all evil, wicked and spoken in the Devil's Tongue-which sounds something like Latin, but with much more spewing forth of spittle and other things disgusting, which is why you will ultimately need a large cloth to wipe your chin. Now, where was I? Each ball began to mutate, twisting and writhing as demons arose from the seemingly innocuous toys. They formed a line, facing our heroes, un Rover out and everything. "Never mind that now. How do we stop Ortega?" Boomer asked. He shrinks, ya know! "Try hanging him to dry, Butler Guy." Miri suggested helpfully. "And stick to the cold cycle next time. Arctic Powder is a good bet." "Ortega!" Boomer repeated. "How do we stop Ortega. Focus people." "Or Shaklee's Basic L. You might try that, too." "Hey!" Boomer raved. Was he the only one who took these situations seriously? Spiritual Repellent. The sound was haunting and seemed to resonate through the air as though it came from another time... another place... another script... Another show entirely, actually. Stop mooning about it! "What was that?" Starbuck asked, not quite catching it. Ah forget it. Once again the small man was relegated to the background, as the writers went off on another tangent featuring the vertically enhanced blond guy with blue eyes and little in the way of clothingut a small, flat square of plastic. Adama looked at it. "Oh, dear Lords, there's another one?!" Adama gasped. "How did he manage that?" Starbuck asked astonished. "The usual way, Viperboy," Baltar snarled. "You must have used a lot of ambrosia-OW!" Starbuck's snicker ended in a yelp as the flattened square made contact with his head. "Let's leave some things alone," Baltar said, eyes narrowed. "Why am I always getting hurt?" Starbuck moaned, wiping the thin trickle of blood from his forehead. "Med-techs," Adama sighed. "Oh, right, yeah." Starbuck brightened. "Guess I'll have to go see them..." [NOTE: Nicolas Colicos really does sing "There's no business, like show business" on a 1996 studio recording of "Annie Get Your Gun".] - Eugenia "I ain't flyin' on no viper, Hannibal. You ain't gonna trick me again." In his usual pleading voice, with the cigar in his mouth, "Now B.A., do you really think we're going to try and trick you onto a spacetil forty strong they stood. "Frack." Starbuck muttered in horror, looking across at the demonic forms, many of them taking the shape of enemies of his past. Boomer slugged him in the arm. "Not in front of my daughter, Starbuck." "Right. Sorry." He replied. "What in Hades do we do now?" "I know exactly what to do." Boomer replied, as he paused, and then slugged Starbuck in the arm again. "Not in front of my daughter. We form our own line." He stood beside Starbuck, hands on his hips. Across from them, the demons of Iblis mimicked him, each putting hands to hips. Suddenly, and unexpectedly, the butler guy stood beside them. He held up a sign. Red Rover, Red Rover, send the ghost of Ortega right over! "Brilliant!" Starbuck cried. "For a centon there, I thought we were going to start Irish dancing." WILL Starbuck and Boomer prevail against Count Iblis and his line of forty Demons? IS it likely that the demons kn. Whatever it takes to please the readers, don't ya know! Spiritual Repellent. The wind picked up the phrase, swirling it around him, and repeating its message over and over... until it became a bit annoying. A vision appeared out of nowhere. It seemed to take the form of an old woman, her hair white and wild, her teeth gapped and ghastly, her clothing that of animal skins... Starbuck eyes narrowed as he followed its path-oddly he seemed to be the only one aware of it-as it hovered above the ground and then rose upward until it soared to the Empyrean!-Turn right at Hades Hole and keep going until you see a guy with white hair in flowing white robes standing in front of a burger stand... he'll direct you onward from there. He nodded skyward. "Thanks, I think." He nudged Boomer. "Did you get that?" "What?" "We use spiritual repellent." "Oh." Boomer looked at him long and hard, relieved that the space between them and Ortega was at least that of ship? We know how you don't like airplanes, even though this isn't an airplane." "No Plane. No Spaceship. And don't give me any long lines in this script." Cassiopea walked up to the group. "B.A., I was wondering if we could borrow your big strong muscle..." Cassi reached up and ran her fingers up his bicep. "...and help us move some heavy equipment in the Life Station lab." B.A. turned to Hannibal. "See? No plane." He turned to Cassiopea. "Show me the way." As soon as they started walking, Hannibal injected the tranquilizer into B.A.'s back. Before B.A. could react, he hit the deck. "I love it when a plan comes together. Thank you, Miss Cassiopea." Cassiopea winked and stressed, "No, *Thank You*! With Face and Starbuck, there is nothing more I could ask for. In fact, Face is waiting for me back in my quarters while Starbuck is preparing for me to give him a rub down before tonight's Triad tournament. What a plan!" Robert "Steeow how to Irish Dance? CAN Ortega's ghost break through the meager line of defense? HOW can Apollo get back in time to help his friends? WHERE can they possibly go from here? Jig and reel your way into the next episode of the Starbuck Chronicles when you'll hear Maga, Taba and Bora say, "If Flatley makes us do one more high kick, we'll pound him into the ground until he's lower than a Borellian Sand Serpens." ======= Against my better judgment, we interrupt your usual programming for this special presentation in fabulous Technicolour. Here we'll answer all your questions and meet all your expectations-as long as you have none. When we last ran away screaming from our heroes, Starbuck, Boomer, Miri and the little Butler Guy were standing in an alternate dimension-turn left at Hades Hole and sprint down the back alley until you can smell the... uh, never mind... - against forty demons, all enemies of Starbuck incidentally. Yes, he had at least forty... the others didn't showa couple of Battlestars end to end... otherwise, he'd surely be there by now. "Happen to have any?" "Uh... no." Meanwhile, across the field the demons were growing restless. "Why does this weak Human take so long to cross the field and annihilate the Lieutenant?" Taba asked the others. "I know not." Maga sneered, decidedly uncomfortable as he linked arms with his fellow ghosts and demons awaiting the attack. "Perhaps because he is weak?" Down the line he could see their tormentor, a skinny, blond haired guy with black boots who held his hands on his hips and pranced about like a frisky equine, kicking his feet in the air. "If Flatley makes us do one more high kick, we'll pound him into the ground until he's lower than a Borellian Sand Serpens." Maga, Bora and Taba growled as one. And everyone thought that Iblis was the Devil. "Come on," said Mrs. Peel. "These dance shoes were expensive!" Suddenly, the sky filled with strange looking shd?" B.A. mutters as Hannibal and Murdock strap him into the cramped space behind the pilot's seat, then rush off to record completely justifiable and necessary holographic images of Athena working out in the women's aerobic exercise section, "that ain't no choirboy robe you wearin'." "Bwa-ha-ha..." the devilishly handsome viper pilot winks a deep blue eye and smooths his velvetly black hair with a flourish as the canopy closes over them, 'please remove all jewellery and eyewear, and place your mushies in an upright position. It's going to be a bumpy ride! Bwa-ha-haaaaaa!" - Carla We now return you to our regularly scheduled episode of the Starbuck Chronicles: "This is crazy," said Amy, suddenly Chameleonless, sitting behind Hannibal. "Ya think?" said BA. "One minute, we're getting a ticket from some babe that's wearing pizza sauce for clothes, then..." "Yeah," said Hannibal. "Then we're...here." "Anybody got a napkin?" asked the priestess. "I didn't t up. What had at first appeared to be the beginning of an Irish Line Dance in true jig and reel fashion, turned into a rousing game of Red Rover, whereby the Butler Guy had just called over the ghost of Ortega. So loosen yer breeks, toss back yer whiskey, and slip oot yer clogs-do whatever it takes to prepare you for the 73rd adventure of the Starbuck Chronicles. "All right everybody, here he comes!" Starbuck exclaimed, watching the ghostly reflection of Ortega glare balefully at him as the former Colonial Warrior, now deceased, ran across the open spaces heading straight for Starbuck... at least it appeared that way from several hundred metrons away. "Uh... question, Bucko. If he's only an apparition, how do we stop him?" Boomer asked, locking arms with his friend. Ortega was definitely heading for Starbuck. You'd think he'd pick on the little Butler Guy, or the soft and sensual Miri, but nooooo! "Huh?" Starbuck asked. Honestly, it hadn't really occurred toips looking vaguely like a dagger with folded, vesperillion-like wings- take a deep breath and sit down with head between knees until deja-vu passes, 'k?-which started firing randomly, seemingly happy to kill anyone or anything in their path, even if it was already dead. Blood thirsty buggers, they were. "What the frack are those?" Boomer asked. "Uh... looks like spiritual repellent to me!" exclaimed Starbuck, punching a fist in the air as the demons went flying with another blast.. They're Ziklagoio! the Butler Guy informed them, searching for another paper source, as his pad had just about run out. Why didn't he get one of those erasable boards with a magic marker? Oh, why? Instead, he was forced to carry a dizzying amount of paper around with him. Hades, the guilt was chewing him up. How many trees had he killed by now, all in the name of communications! "What's a Ziklagoio?" Starbuck asked, but even as the question passed his lips, somehow it seemed fhink Adama could sing," said Amy. Did you ever see his album reviews? The butler guy wondered. "What's an album?" Igraine asked. "Of course he can sing!" said Athena, dignantly. (It would have been indignantly, but she'd already gotten her digs in for the day) "My father can belt one out." "Then how come he keeps saying 'Bonanza' after every verse?" asked BA. "I don't know," said Athena. She looked down at Igraine, Puppis, Vela, Miri, and even lil' Buckers, along for the sake of a cheap plot device. They shook their heads. "I don't know." "Feel it?" asked Belloby. "Do you all feel it?" "Yes!" said one of the other priestesses, not seen for a really long time. "We are being drawn to where they are now! This may be our chance!" "Just let the forc...energy flow?" "Yes. Just follow it!" "As you say, Siress." "Just one question," asked another. "What?" asked Belloby. "What is a Ringo?" "Hmm. Maybe we should ask Jo him until Boomer mentioned it. "Uh... good question. What did they do in the Virtual Season when Apollo and Sheba met up with the ship of demons?" "Uh... can't recall really." Boomer returned. "Miri? Do you know?" "Me? I wasn't there! I was doing that juicy number over at RKO, remember? Weren't you there?" she returned. "No... I was... frack, where the heck was I?" Boomer looked to Starbuck. "I don't know where you were, Buddy. No, wait. You were in Alaska, manning a radar station, in that made for TV flick with Cathy Lee Crosby. I think I was just growing my hair... as usual." Starbuck replied with a wry grin. "I... uh... wasn't privy to it all. Just like Bones. They kind of kept me in the dark, which isn't good for a fellow of my complexion." "Hey, I thought Sen filled you in on Bones." "Sen, huh? You two must be tight, Boom-Boom. Oh, right. You were featured in that story. I keep forgetting." Boomer shrugged, looking camiliar to him. You should know this, Bucko! "Sagan's sake, I think its a plot! The other stories are attacking!" screamed Miri, as she held her daughter behind her. Suddenly, a neon billboard rose out of the ground. Lords, the Empyreans and Ziklagoio Saved Me From Grappling To the Death with Count Iblis' Ship of Icky Demons and Zohrlochs who Grapple with Perceptions of Bones and other Buried Secrets and Relics of Twilly's amidst Nature's Furious Foe. "Maybe they're here to help!" Boomer cried as laser fire tore through the field and Ortega's ghost was vaporized in an instant. "And maybe not." Starbuck interjected, as he jumped out of the way of another burst of fire. "Hit the dirt!" He did so, and Boomer heard him grunt loudly. "Starbuck? You okay?" "My gum!" choked the Lieutenant, hand to throat. "I swallowed my gum!" "Your gun? Hades, if you had a gun all this time, why were you fooling around with that fool sword?" It was science fhn?" "Or Paul?" "Paul?" "Or George!" A shriek of excitement echoed through the air. "It's the Fabulon Four!" "I thought it was Wild Bill Hickok!" "Who?" "Okay! That's it! I've had enough!" Starbuck called out, holding out his hands as a swarm of people started doing high kicks, arms linked. "People! Pay attention! This is all-about-me!" He glanced at his father, who was suddenly dancing with a... hat. "Chameleon! By all the Lords, what are you doing?" Chameleon grinned, flipping the hat over in his hand once before replying, "I'm... putting on my top hat, tyin' up my white tie, brushin' off my tails..." "Go Fred!" Adama clapped. "Now those were the days! If you couldn't act, dance, sing, ride a horse, and do some of your own stunts, you wouldn't make it in Hollywood!" "I'm dudin' up my shirt front, puttin' in the shirt studs, polishin' my nails!" Suddenly, Hector and Vector appeared, joining the chorus line. "Ohagrined. "Sagan's sake, Starbuck. You have the Chrons..." "And, no, Senmut didn't fill me in on Bones! He locked me in a room, tied to an armchair, until I read the script." Did you resist? asked the little Butler Guy. "Well, yeah. For a while. But I had to sit there, watching all those old Technicolor travelogues, not to mention three Crime Does Not Pay shorts from M-G-M, till I cracked." "Oh you poor dear!" said Miri, embracing him, and cradling his head against her full, young, tender, swelling...well, you get the picture. "A fella can only take so many good endings," moaned Starbuck, handing her a tube of Clearisil for her full, young, tender, swelling pimples. Well, what did you think he meant? It was good! The Butler Guy insisted. Admit it. And Children Of Zohr was fab too. "What about mine?" asked another voice, from the back. Had me checking the weather forecast for weeks, Eric, replied the Butler Guy. Had to dryiction at its worst. Not only was the probability of Starbuck swallowing his gun highly unlikely, but why had they done that whole Camelot/ Conan scene if Starbuck could have come out shooting? It boggled the mind really. "Bucko, remind me to not let you out of my sight again. You clearly need my help and guidance." He said gum! "Oh. Okay. Sorry, Bucko. My mistake." "Gghrrhkhchuugghghkk!" "Thanks. Me too." Suddenly, as he spoke, a laser bolt struck the fax/copier machine that was still on, over in Blip's place, back on Cordugo Pit, at Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel and Fooling Around Paraphernalia Emporium. The resultant interplay of energies led to a fusing of space/time localities, and both groups of our heroes were suddenly in the same room. (Sadly, Athena's lingerie did not make it!) So, WHAT will happen, as the baddies fly overhead, firing? WHERE is Iblis? Dibley? Rover? WHY are all the stories glopping into each other? WHY did we go all thesh wow!" said Boxey. "Robots! The one's Eric doesn't like!" "Yeah!" cried Chameleon. "We're off to see the Wizard now!" "Hold it!" said a voice. They all turned to look. It was Blip, from the Arcade. "Before anyone goethh anywhere, ya gotta pay up. That'th two tokenth from eachth of ya!" "Scalper!" said BA. "But this is Hades Hole?" said Vela. "Does that work?" "Thure, if ya pay a hell of a lot of 'em, lady!" said Blip, laughing. He wandered off, no longer needed by this scene. "Okay," said Chameleon. "NOW we're off to see the Wizard!" "O boy!" said Miri. "Oh God," said Baltar. WHO is "the Wizard"? WHERE is he? HOW will our heroes get there? WHAT will they find there? CAN Faceman get away with all that bed linen? WHICH lady will enjoy it with him? WILL we ever get to the end of this? DO we even want to? MUST we? For the answers to these and multiplicitously additional questions, don't miss if you can the next, vista-expanding, high-ene Rover out and everything. "Never mind that now. How do we stop Ortega?" Boomer asked. He shrinks, ya know! "Try hanging him to dry, Butler Guy." Miri suggested helpfully. "And stick to the cold cycle next time. Arctic Powder is a good bet." "Ortega!" Boomer repeated. "How do we stop Ortega. Focus people." "Or Shaklee's Basic L. You might try that, too." "Hey!" Boomer raved. Was he the only one who took these situations seriously? Spiritual Repellent. The sound was haunting and seemed to resonate through the air as though it came from another time... another place... another script... Another show entirely, actually. Stop mooning about it! "What was that?" Starbuck asked, not quite catching it. Ah forget it. Once again the small man was relegated to the background, as the writers went off on another tangent featuring the vertically enhanced blond guy with blue eyes and little in the way of clothinge eps, and NOT know Starbuck was chewing gum? WHERE are the horny priestesses? WHEN did they grow horns? WILL all my cut scenes be restored? WHEN will Hades freeze over? WILL Eric finally post a reply, now that we've included him? SHOULD we post it for him? For the answers to these, and probably some other questions we'll manage to dredge up, don't miss the next polymorhically lugubrious episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear Adama say, "Just checking cattle futures." ======= New York Bans Bagels in the Workplace will not be seen at this time, in order that we may present the following equally hard to swallow program. Bodies were strewn around the room. Their condition unknown. Strewn everywhere. Really dramatic looking strewing, too. Just like the movies. Even Igraine was quiet for the moment, as was Sire Memnon's pencil sharpener. What soundst....room it was, nobody was sure, but for the first time in countless episodes, everyone, includrgy, low-humidity episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear Mrs. Peel say, "Lipstick? What happened to the lipstick? Must have been somebody with lips." ======= The Sewage Treatment Plant Engineer's Manual Gets Iliitis will not be seen at this time. In its place we present the following waste of your time. The Starbuck Chronicles-Part 90-We keep going, and going, and going... Part 91 "I'm your father, Starbuck! Please!" Starbuck frowned, flipping through the script one more time as he tossed another cup full of water onto the rocks in the (Stygian) depths of Hades Hole. A moist, soggy, wet, muggy, damp, humid, clinging, dripping, ya know, basically really steamy, like steamroom heat, rose up, creating a sauna effect. "I don't know, Chameleon. Everywhere I look... Starbuck, Starbuck, Starbuck. It's all about me." "One episode out of ninety! That's all I'm asking! After all, the Virtual Season hasn't been good to me, son! First they . Whatever it takes to please the readers, don't ya know! Spiritual Repellent. The wind picked up the phrase, swirling it around him, and repeating its message over and over... until it became a bit annoying. A vision appeared out of nowhere. It seemed to take the form of an old woman, her hair white and wild, her teeth gapped and ghastly, her clothing that of animal skins... Starbuck eyes narrowed as he followed its path-oddly he seemed to be the only one aware of it-as it hovered above the ground and then rose upward until it soared to the Empyrean!-Turn right at Hades Hole and keep going until you see a guy with white hair in flowing white robes standing in front of a burger stand... he'll direct you onward from there. He nodded skyward. "Thanks, I think." He nudged Boomer. "Did you get that?" "What?" "We use spiritual repellent." "Oh." Boomer looked at him long and hard, relieved that the space between them and Ortega was at least that of ing their lingerie*, was in the same space/time continuum and the same general geographic location. (Cue really snazzy special effects star map, showing location of the Fleet, with a "You are here" sign.) Except for... Apollo looked over at his father, who, unlike the others, was calmly sitting in a regal armchair, reading a newspaper. Even more unusually, he seemed to be wearing a tall hat with a wide brim. "Father... what are you doing?" "Just checking cattle futures. Same as I've been doing the last twenty-four centars while I've been waiting for you all to wake up." Adama replied, looking over the top of the paper and peering at the other occupants of the room. "Uh...by the way, where's Starbuck?" Even the copier/fax/scanner machine had shut off. Finally. * * * * * "Hey, kid. Can you hear me?" The voice seemed to come from the distance, calling him back from that pillowy goodness where he could rest his weary body and aching head. Hades, he halmost killed me, then when I finally found happiness with Claudia, they brought back Baltar and sent Claudia back to his bed!" He snarled. "Hey, I'm taller! Just one episode! After all, we have the A-team to help us!" A sign was suddenly held up in front of Starbuck's face. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire the A-team. It looked as though it was written in lipstick, (Clinique, Honeyed Amber) which was really weird when mixed with Village type font. "Hmm. Are you still here?" Starbuck asked the Butler Guy. "Any chance I could get a cold Empyrean Ale? I'm parched." First, step up to the plate, Whipped Froth. Then we'll talk libations! Starbuck raised an eyebrow, looking around suspiciously. "Whipped Froth, huh? Thought I left him behind..." The little Butler guy suddenly looked irate, looking around desperately. His placard was empty. "Lose your lipstick?" Starbuck asked with a smile. "Whaa couple of Battlestars end to end... otherwise, he'd surely be there by now. "Happen to have any?" "Uh... no." Meanwhile, across the field the demons were growing restless. "Why does this weak Human take so long to cross the field and annihilate the Lieutenant?" Taba asked the others. "I know not." Maga sneered, decidedly uncomfortable as he linked arms with his fellow ghosts and demons awaiting the attack. "Perhaps because he is weak?" Down the line he could see their tormentor, a skinny, blond haired guy with black boots who held his hands on his hips and pranced about like a frisky equine, kicking his feet in the air. "If Flatley makes us do one more high kick, we'll pound him into the ground until he's lower than a Borellian Sand Serpens." Maga, Bora and Taba growled as one. And everyone thought that Iblis was the Devil. "Come on," said Mrs. Peel. "These dance shoes were expensive!" Suddenly, the sky filled with strange looking sht a shame." "Lipstick? What happened to the lipstick?" Mrs. Peel strutted in for her scheduled cameo appearance. "Must have been somebody with lips," Starbuck replied. "No, no! That was my line!" Mrs. Peel protested. She sat on his lap, making it necessary for him to sit down first, securing the script and flipping through it. "See!" she pointed with a carefully manicured fingernail, at the entry for Scene 6, on page 66. "See?" "Hmm," Starbuck smiled, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear while he examined the pages. He put an arm around her. "So it was. Sorry about that. How can I... make it up to you?" "Help your father," Emma suggested with a conspiratorial smile, as she glanced at Chameleon. "I have the feeling that I've been conned..." Starbuck murmured. "Your old man is back in the game," Chameleon grinned. "At least we won't have to wait until Monday," smiled Mrs. Peel, and handed him his top hat. "I don't know, Hanips looking vaguely like a dagger with folded, vesperillion-like wings- take a deep breath and sit down with head between knees until deja-vu passes, 'k?-which started firing randomly, seemingly happy to kill anyone or anything in their path, even if it was already dead. Blood thirsty buggers, they were. "What the frack are those?" Boomer asked. "Uh... looks like spiritual repellent to me!" exclaimed Starbuck, punching a fist in the air as the demons went flying with another blast.. They're Ziklagoio! the Butler Guy informed them, searching for another paper source, as his pad had just about run out. Why didn't he get one of those erasable boards with a magic marker? Oh, why? Instead, he was forced to carry a dizzying amount of paper around with him. Hades, the guilt was chewing him up. How many trees had he killed by now, all in the name of communications! "What's a Ziklagoio?" Starbuck asked, but even as the question passed his lips, somehow it seemed fadn't had any real sleep for nigh on seventy-three episodes. No wonder his head was pounding, and the mere thought of opening his eyes had dagger-like pains shooting into his skull. "Hey, man. Wake up! It was just a little bump on the head. Open your eyes!" The voice was brisk and gruff. Angry. Male. Not exactly the kind of voice you pried the ole baby blues open for. A hand gripped his shoulder, and with surprising gentleness, gave him a shake. "I know you're in there, man. I can see your eyes twitch. You know, REM state? Been there a few times myself, you know. Leastways, I think so. I'll have to check with my Mama." "Lieu-ten-ant!" It was the first voice again. It sounded military, but he didn't recognize it. That authority was unmistakable though. Starbuck raised a hand to his eyes, wiping them briefly before opening them. "How many fingers?" Silvery white hair, piercing blue eyes, and a fumarello clamped between his teeth. He looked fitter thannibal," Face complained, holding his Ralph Lauren sheets possessively. "I have plans tonight." He glanced over at Athena, winking. By now, everybody was gathered around waiting to hear the plan. "Nothing that can't wait, Lieutenant," the Colonel replied with a glower. He spared a glance at the bed ware. Admittedly, those pillow cases were awfully nice... "This should be a piece of cake, guys." "Yeah, let's do it for Chameleon. His happiness has been overlooked in the general scheme of things for far too long. Just ask Carla and Eugenia," Murdock spoke up. He glanced at BA. "Right, Big Guy?" "You not kidding, Fool!" BA barked. He glared at Starbuck. "Can't believe you wouldn't think of it yourself, Spaceman. He's your father! He brought you into this world!" In two quick steps he was standing in front of Starbuck, grabbing him by the tunic, and pulling him up onto his toes. "If you don't respect your father, I'll take you out of it!" "You and what army?" Staramiliar to him. You should know this, Bucko! "Sagan's sake, I think its a plot! The other stories are attacking!" screamed Miri, as she held her daughter behind her. Suddenly, a neon billboard rose out of the ground. Lords, the Empyreans and Ziklagoio Saved Me From Grappling To the Death with Count Iblis' Ship of Icky Demons and Zohrlochs who Grapple with Perceptions of Bones and other Buried Secrets and Relics of Twilly's amidst Nature's Furious Foe. "Maybe they're here to help!" Boomer cried as laser fire tore through the field and Ortega's ghost was vaporized in an instant. "And maybe not." Starbuck interjected, as he jumped out of the way of another burst of fire. "Hit the dirt!" He did so, and Boomer heard him grunt loudly. "Starbuck? You okay?" "My gum!" choked the Lieutenant, hand to throat. "I swallowed my gum!" "Your gun? Hades, if you had a gun all this time, why were you fooling around with that fool sword?" It was science f the silver hair would let on. He stared down at Starbuck with equal parts concern and brisk efficiency as he waved a hand before his face. "How many, Face?" "One." Starbuck murmured, blinking as he shielded his eyes from the brightness. He was somewhere new; fresh air and direct sunlight streaming in through a window. Not the confines of the Fleet, or the (stygian) depths of Hades Hole. "One?" The man asked, looking at his hand a moment, brow furrowed. "Try again, kid." He looked across at the other man. This one was built like a landram Starbuck decided, as he peaked through his fingers. Dark-skinned like Boomer, with the strangest hair which seemed to stick up in a swath in the middle of his head, as though he'd had a run in with a runaway lawn mower. He was covered in auric jewelry, and so many chains hung around his thickset neck, it almost appeared as though he didn't have one. A small feather dangled from one ear, and Starbuck moved his hand out of his way as he buck sneered, sizing up the big guy. "You keep getting me confused with Face. I don't hesitate to fight, always having a convenient med tech to kiss it better. He's the one who'd rather brush the lint off his Armani suit and watch." "Oh, right," BA replied, setting the Colonial Warrior down. Actually, his current jacket was Pierre Cardin, but hey, that was wardrobe's problem. "You should still help your father." "BA, that's why we're here," Hannibal reminded them. "To board Baltar's Base Ship and get Claudia back for Chameleon." "How exactly are we gonna do that, Colonel?" Murdock asked. "I mean hey, wasn't there a Base Ship scene a few eps back?" "That was before we came into the storyline," said BA. "Ain't ya been reading the script, Fool?" "Cigar, Face," Hannibal grinned, holding out a hand. His Lieutenant pulled a cigar out of his inside pocket, handing it to his CO. A moment later, the conman was lighting it. Hannibal grinned around the smoke. "For somiction at its worst. Not only was the probability of Starbuck swallowing his gun highly unlikely, but why had they done that whole Camelot/ Conan scene if Starbuck could have come out shooting? It boggled the mind really. "Bucko, remind me to not let you out of my sight again. You clearly need my help and guidance." He said gum! "Oh. Okay. Sorry, Bucko. My mistake." "Gghrrhkhchuugghghkk!" "Thanks. Me too." Suddenly, as he spoke, a laser bolt struck the fax/copier machine that was still on, over in Blip's place, back on Cordugo Pit, at Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel and Fooling Around Paraphernalia Emporium. The resultant interplay of energies led to a fusing of space/time localities, and both groups of our heroes were suddenly in the same room. (Sadly, Athena's lingerie did not make it!) So, WHAT will happen, as the baddies fly overhead, firing? WHERE is Iblis? Dibley? Rover? WHY are all the stories glopping into each other? WHY did we go all thestried to decide what tribe this man was from. He shook his head in wonder, he'd never seen his like before. Maybe there was a Fourteenth Tribe he was just unaware of. He was also holding some sort of weapon, which Starbuck did not at once recognize. "Watcha starin' at, sucker?" "BA, let him answer. How many fingers, Face?" The older man asked again. His hand drew closer, as though Starbuck might have developed a sight disorder and just couldn't see them. "Is that a trick question?" Starbuck asked. "At least he didn't say blue." Another voice from out of Starbuck's range of vision inserted. "Explain, Lieutenant." "Fingers or faces. What is it I'm counting?" He ran a hand back through his hair, which came to rest on a lump at the back of his head. He palpated it gently, wincing with the discomfort. "For that matter, why am I counting?" The dark man wrinkled his face up in consternation. "Whatcha goin' on about, Face?" He looked angrily over his shoulething different... how about we go in the front door." "Oh, no!" Face whined. "He's on the jazz..." "Front door? This could ruin our reputation," said Amy. "Not to mention confuse the viewers," said Murdock, slicking back his hair. The Butler Guy looked up at him, and scowled. Show off! "Uh, Hannibal," Apollo reminded him. "It's a Base Ship. It has landing bays, not doors." "Just a figure of speech, Captain," Hannibal shrugged. "Now pay attention, everyone." Someone groaned. "What's this thing, again?" Apollo asked, holding up the stick. "Either a stun gun or laser baton, depending on your preference. Remember, in an A-team episode, nobody gets killed." "Except us," said Murdock, glumly. "You read the latest review in TV Guide, Hannibal? Man, those critics!" "Whatever. We're doing this my way," Hannibal smiled, as Face, Murdock and BA shuddered behind him. "I just had a flash-forward to Season Five," Face ge eps, and NOT know Starbuck was chewing gum? WHERE are the horny priestesses? WHEN did they grow horns? WILL all my cut scenes be restored? WHEN will Hades freeze over? WILL Eric finally post a reply, now that we've included him? SHOULD we post it for him? For the answers to these, and probably some other questions we'll manage to dredge up, don't miss the next polymorhically lugubrious episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear Adama say, "Just checking cattle futures." ======= New York Bans Bagels in the Workplace will not be seen at this time, in order that we may present the following equally hard to swallow program. Bodies were strewn around the room. Their condition unknown. Strewn everywhere. Really dramatic looking strewing, too. Just like the movies. Even Igraine was quiet for the moment, as was Sire Memnon's pencil sharpener. What soundst....room it was, nobody was sure, but for the first time in countless episodes, everyone, includder. "You're talkin' like the Fool!" "Now, now, BA," the third voice drawled in an upper crust accent, sounding a little bit like Count Iblis- which strangely enough, wasn't how he had sounded a moment ago. "If the Facial One chooses to rise to the occasion, and fashion himself after such a unique role model as myself," his nose shot subtly into the air, he sniffed, and he waved his hand in the air ever so slightly, "you should support him in his endeavour, not chastise him so. At least in my professional opinion." "Professional what?" The angry man snapped at him. "Professional crazy man? If it ain't invisible dogs, it's dead lobsters! You just crazy, man!" "Why BA, as you may or may not be aware, I am the Director of the Murdockian League with is a direct descendent from the Diogenes Club." He continued to drone. "And, as it happens, we are accepting new pledges for membership from the..." Another sniff. "Right kind of people." He dropped his head, whispering aside toing their lingerie*, was in the same space/time continuum and the same general geographic location. (Cue really snazzy special effects star map, showing location of the Fleet, with a "You are here" sign.) Except for... Apollo looked over at his father, who, unlike the others, was calmly sitting in a regal armchair, reading a newspaper. Even more unusually, he seemed to be wearing a tall hat with a wide brim. "Father... what are you doing?" "Just checking cattle futures. Same as I've been doing the last twenty-four centars while I've been waiting for you all to wake up." Adama replied, looking over the top of the paper and peering at the other occupants of the room. "Uh...by the way, where's Starbuck?" Even the copier/fax/scanner machine had shut off. Finally. * * * * * "Hey, kid. Can you hear me?" The voice seemed to come from the distance, calling him back from that pillowy goodness where he could rest his weary body and aching head. Hades, he hroaned. Bad? "You have no idea." "Stockwell," moaned Murdock, beating his head on a package of semi-thawed hot dogs. (Nobody could find the pizza box, sadly.) "Frankie," frowned BA. "Unemployment," wept Amy. "Stun baton, huh?" Apollo replied. "Who'd you swipe that from?" "Sum Five. Carla," Hannibal replied. "The third re-write. The one with all the pink pages that sadly got eaten by Muffit." "Tragic," sniffed Athena. "Anyway, Lisa turned it into a laser baton for On the Line. She's still not sure if she inadvertently stole the idea or had just seen the RCMP taser Dziekanski enough times that it was lasered into her brain. She's Canadian, after all. She pleads Post-Traumatic Child Rearing, and claims that Senmut has the other half of her brain locked in his closet with his assorted skeletons. Lots of religious texts in there, and she relies on him to point these things out to her." "Admissible in tribunal," Sire Solon popped in to i Starbuck, "Not from big, ugly mudsuckers though." Starbuck shook his head looking up at the others. "Who the frack are you guys?" The older man paused for a moment, wrinkling his brow once more in concern as he stared into Starbuck's eyes. Abruptly, his mouth widened in a grin around his fumerello. "Ah, you thought you had us. Nice, Face. But you're not going to get off that easy. Help him up, BA." It took about a milli-centon for Starbuck to go from flat on his back to the vertical position. It was clearly a bad idea, as the back of his head exploded into a million pieces... or at least that was how it felt, although he didn't actually take the time or effort to count them. Strangely though, it didn't relieve the terrible pressure or stop his head from beginning to spin like a cyclone on steroids. Bile rose in his throat and he was certain he had just turned three completely different shades of green. "Hannibal, I think he's going to..." And he did. adn't had any real sleep for nigh on seventy-three episodes. No wonder his head was pounding, and the mere thought of opening his eyes had dagger-like pains shooting into his skull. "Hey, man. Wake up! It was just a little bump on the head. Open your eyes!" The voice was brisk and gruff. Angry. Male. Not exactly the kind of voice you pried the ole baby blues open for. A hand gripped his shoulder, and with surprising gentleness, gave him a shake. "I know you're in there, man. I can see your eyes twitch. You know, REM state? Been there a few times myself, you know. Leastways, I think so. I'll have to check with my Mama." "Lieu-ten-ant!" It was the first voice again. It sounded military, but he didn't recognize it. That authority was unmistakable though. Starbuck raised a hand to his eyes, wiping them briefly before opening them. "How many fingers?" Silvery white hair, piercing blue eyes, and a fumarello clamped between his teeth. He looked fitter thannform them. "But a feeble defence." "I believe she's aware of that," Hannibal replied, looking up at the Zazaian sky. "Personally, I think she was on the jazz, and didn't notice. I can't speak for Senmut." DEO GRATIAS!!!!!!!!!!! boomed a voice. From somewhere. "De nada, Muchacho!" Murdock replied. "So we can't shoot any Cylons when we're getting Claudia back?" Apollo clarified. "Nope," Hannibal shook his head. "Might hit Baltar, and his agent...no way I wanna meet him in court!" "Bummer," moaned the Strike Captain. "That's Hummer!" "Or Boomer." "Enough from the peanut gallery, already!" Hannibal snapped. He looked at the Butler Guy, and switched them for cashews. "Relations are tenuous at best between Baltar and Adama, over in the VS," he went on. "Eric wouldn't like it if we sent in a team and started blasting away. He's worked hard to get to this point in the series. We can't undermine his creative integrity, even in an alternate "CURSES!" said Count Iblis, wherever he was. "Blimey!" said Dibley. "Pick up thoths tokenths!" said Blip. "Anyone for champagne?" said Mrs. Peel. "I imagine so," said Ronald D. Moore. Oh no! flashed the Butler Guy. WHAT did Starbuck do? WHO are the strange men he has just encountered? HOW did it happen? WHY is everyone back on the Galactica strewn unconscious, except for Apollo and Adama? (Well, maybe Lucifer too, but he didn't have any lines, this ep.) WHY is Adama reading cattle futures, and WHERE did he get a newspaper from? FOR that matter, WHAT are cattle futures? WILL everyone get back to where they are supposed to be? IS it possible? For the answers (yeah, right!) to these and other interrogatively tedious lugubriosities, don't miss the next sentimentally superficial episode of THE STARBUCK CHRONICLES. Tune in, when we'll hear the big, dark guy with the weird haircut say, "I ain't gettin' on no Colonial Shuttle, Hannibal!" * Yeah, I know the silver hair would let on. He stared down at Starbuck with equal parts concern and brisk efficiency as he waved a hand before his face. "How many, Face?" "One." Starbuck murmured, blinking as he shielded his eyes from the brightness. He was somewhere new; fresh air and direct sunlight streaming in through a window. Not the confines of the Fleet, or the (stygian) depths of Hades Hole. "One?" The man asked, looking at his hand a moment, brow furrowed. "Try again, kid." He looked across at the other man. This one was built like a landram Starbuck decided, as he peaked through his fingers. Dark-skinned like Boomer, with the strangest hair which seemed to stick up in a swath in the middle of his head, as though he'd had a run in with a runaway lawn mower. He was covered in auric jewelry, and so many chains hung around his thickset neck, it almost appeared as though he didn't have one. A small feather dangled from one ear, and Starbuck moved his hand out of his way as he continuum." "Well... how are we going to pull this off then?" Apollo probed him. "Won't Baltar notice it, if we take his wife away? Don't you think that might create some sort of awkward situation that will upset the alliance in the VS?" "Not to worry," Hannibal said, turning to his lieutenant. "Tell them, Face." Face grinned, walking around and handing out the new script. "Let me tell you about a hot little lady from the Empyrean Series named Eirys." Hot? "Oh yeah!" She go for bald? "You want me to what?" Dayton asked incredulously, as he flicked the ashes from his Cubana Perfecto cigar into the ashtray that was once Torg's skull.. "Listen, Caffeine Coma, I just busted my hump for seven months straight finishing Beyond the Heavens. I'm tired. I need a break. I have a beautiful med tech all lined up for some quality R&R. Since Cabo is out, I'm heading off to the Agro Desert Dome." "C'mon, Dayton! If you don't help me out, I'm going to be fo we said it was lost, but it was found. Omega picked it up on the scanners later, but that's another story. ===== Miss Piggy sues the National Enquirer will not be seen at this time. In it's place, we present the following load of bull. The Starbuck Chronicles Part 75 "All right, everyone, listen up." Commander Adama rose slowly to his feet, standing with his arms behind his back and his feet apart, as the council room came alive and Mrs. Peel started pouring champagne (Dom Perignon, '28) into Dibley's mouth from her (kinky) boot. "It's time to get things somewhat back on track, as this has gone on long enough. Do you realize this all started with a Triad Game?" Most of them stared at him in shock... or boredom. Go Team! "I thought not." Adama sighed. "I have shuttles standing by in launch bay Alpha to take all of you non- residents back to your planet, ship or demonic underworld of origin." "Blimey, that's mighty generous of you, Gutried to decide what tribe this man was from. He shook his head in wonder, he'd never seen his like before. Maybe there was a Fourteenth Tribe he was just unaware of. He was also holding some sort of weapon, which Starbuck did not at once recognize. "Watcha starin' at, sucker?" "BA, let him answer. How many fingers, Face?" The older man asked again. His hand drew closer, as though Starbuck might have developed a sight disorder and just couldn't see them. "Is that a trick question?" Starbuck asked. "At least he didn't say blue." Another voice from out of Starbuck's range of vision inserted. "Explain, Lieutenant." "Fingers or faces. What is it I'm counting?" He ran a hand back through his hair, which came to rest on a lump at the back of his head. He palpated it gently, wincing with the discomfort. "For that matter, why am I counting?" The dark man wrinkled his face up in consternation. "Whatcha goin' on about, Face?" He looked angrily over his shoulrced to ask Byrne," Starbuck threatened. Dayton laughed. "That guy would just as soon bust your chops for looking at his daughter, than help you, kid." "Sagan sakes, she's about sixteen yahrens old! She's a kid! I'm in love with Cassiopeia-at least in that continuum-why would I want to throw that away for a scrawny teenager?" "Ask Senmut," Dayton leaned close, whispering conspiratorially. "He's got it in for ya, ya know." His eyes twinkled mischievously. Starbuck sighed. "He always did like Apollo better." He tossed back his drink. "Down the Hatch." "Most men did, Fine Grind. Especially the hirsute ones. Besides, Jena's been eating better, and it shows." He winked, and poured them both another shot of Asteroid Whiskey. By now, he was far enough along not to wonder why it didn't taste like an asteroid. "Face it, kid, Apollo's less of a threat to their egos. He goes long periods as a single father, only ever has one woman at a time, and can't even manage to v." Dibley smiled, wiping his mouth on Mrs. Peel's...well....pressed napkin. "We will meet again, Adama!" smiled Iblis, evilly. "Give it a fracking rest, Boray Buns!" said Belloby, kicking him in the shins. "We're going home, Toto, we're finally going home!" "Uh..." Adama stared at the young girl with pigtails, a blue dress and ruby red slippers as she cuddled her (live) daggit. "I'm not sure I recall..." "Oh? Well, perhaps you weren't paying attention," she suggested with a huff. "Let's go home! There's no place like home!" Somebody ordered a garland of flowers, right? "No, but I ordered some Punch." Boxey help up his hand as he jumped up and down.. "Hawaiian?" Hummer asked. "How would you like some nice Hawaiian Punch, Boxey?" Igraine asked with a twisted smile. "No time for that now. Off to the launch bay," said Hector, taking her arm. Adama pasted a cheery smile on his face as the young girlder. "You're talkin' like the Fool!" "Now, now, BA," the third voice drawled in an upper crust accent, sounding a little bit like Count Iblis- which strangely enough, wasn't how he had sounded a moment ago. "If the Facial One chooses to rise to the occasion, and fashion himself after such a unique role model as myself," his nose shot subtly into the air, he sniffed, and he waved his hand in the air ever so slightly, "you should support him in his endeavour, not chastise him so. At least in my professional opinion." "Professional what?" The angry man snapped at him. "Professional crazy man? If it ain't invisible dogs, it's dead lobsters! You just crazy, man!" "Why BA, as you may or may not be aware, I am the Director of the Murdockian League with is a direct descendent from the Diogenes Club." He continued to drone. "And, as it happens, we are accepting new pledges for membership from the..." Another sniff. "Right kind of people." He dropped his head, whispering aside to and the android began to lead the congregation out of the Council Chamber and towards the launch bay. How they knew the way, he wasn't sure, but since all he really wanted was to return to his quarters for some privacy, he didn't really care. Tigh would take care of it. "This ain't over, Gramps!" said Igraine, yelling back over the parade of people. "You will be hearing from my lawyers!" Athena paused at the door, letting the last of the stranger than strange strangers file out. "Where is it?" "What?" Adama asked, his eyes wide with innocence. "My lingerie. We've had this little talk before, Father. Give me back my lingerie." Adama straightened his shoulders. "I don't know what you're talking about." "Uh huh, and Cylons plant trees for Arbor Day," Athena hissed. "I'm not backing down on this. Give it up, or I'll tell Boxey." Adama grimaced, looking both ways, pulling the paper bag out from behind his back. "I was just going to.make that work." "Raised in that stuffy Caprican tradition, you know. He really can't help it." "Still, Boxey's mom was a hottie," Dayton commented. "Well, Jane Seymour's agent advised her against it," Starbuck pushed his glass across to the Earthling for a refill. "No future in a male dominated show." "Yeah, so I hear. So, it comes down to you, I take it, to carry the plots along?" Starbuck grinned, raising his glass and tossing down another whiskey. "It's tough being me." "I can imagine. Having to wrestle with all that overwhelming humility must take a lot out of a guy." "You have no idea." Starbuck smiled. "There was this time, on Atilla, when Kyle was out, and it was just Miri and me. I mean hey, I tried to keep things cool, but she..." Dayton nodded, tossing down his own whiskey. From Atilla, it was Aurora, Noday, and then he stopped for another swig. "So... you want me to replace Baltar as the commander of the Cylon Base Ship when this Starbuck, "Not from big, ugly mudsuckers though." Starbuck shook his head looking up at the others. "Who the frack are you guys?" The older man paused for a moment, wrinkling his brow once more in concern as he stared into Starbuck's eyes. Abruptly, his mouth widened in a grin around his fumerello. "Ah, you thought you had us. Nice, Face. But you're not going to get off that easy. Help him up, BA." It took about a milli-centon for Starbuck to go from flat on his back to the vertical position. It was clearly a bad idea, as the back of his head exploded into a million pieces... or at least that was how it felt, although he didn't actually take the time or effort to count them. Strangely though, it didn't relieve the terrible pressure or stop his head from beginning to spin like a cyclone on steroids. Bile rose in his throat and he was certain he had just turned three completely different shades of green. "Hannibal, I think he's going to..." And he did. .." "Save it, Father." Athena snapped, clutching the bag to her chest and following the others. She turned at the last micron, looking back to him, "By the way, where's Starbuck?" Well, actually... "One minute Face has his nose buried in the cattle futures, and the next, he disappears for twenty-four hours, and when he comes back, all the team's cash flow is gone." Hannibal mused, hearing further retching coming from the pristine bathroom in the luxury penthouse that Face had scammed while the owner was in Cannes for the Film Festival. "What do you think happened, Colonel?" Murdock asked, measuring the steel balls in his left hand... "And what are cattle futures?" BA added, peering out the windows at the spectacular view of the pier. "Don't you ever read the financial pages?" asked Amy, walking in on the conversation. "Cattle futures," Murdock inserted, pushing a finger up the bridge of his nose as if he was adjusting his glasses-whi Eirys comes and takes him to an alternate dimension? How are you going to get that to fly with Adama? Not to mention all those Cylons." Starbuck grinned, leaning closer. "We're going to tell them that you're Baltar's brother!" "Who'd you swipe that from?" Dayton asked, pouring another drink. "Lisa?" "Nope." "Sen?" "Oh, Hades Hole, no!" "An old issue of Starlog?" "Noooo........" Starbuck belched. "Who, then?" "Eugenia." "Do I get to sing any Sinatra songs?" "We could work that in," Starbuck shrugged. "Oh, alright. After all, I've had four days off..." "Earth days, anyway." "So..." "So?" "Going My Way..." Hey, that's Crosby. "Sorry". Dayton cleared his throat. "From this day forward, I promise you..." Ooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, Frankie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WILL they rescue Claudia from Baltar's clutches? CAN she and Chameleoen ever be reunited? WILL Eirys want Baltar boo "CURSES!" said Count Iblis, wherever he was. "Blimey!" said Dibley. "Pick up thoths tokenths!" said Blip. "Anyone for champagne?" said Mrs. Peel. "I imagine so," said Ronald D. Moore. Oh no! flashed the Butler Guy. WHAT did Starbuck do? WHO are the strange men he has just encountered? HOW did it happen? WHY is everyone back on the Galactica strewn unconscious, except for Apollo and Adama? (Well, maybe Lucifer too, but he didn't have any lines, this ep.) WHY is Adama reading cattle futures, and WHERE did he get a newspaper from? FOR that matter, WHAT are cattle futures? WILL everyone get back to where they are supposed to be? IS it possible? For the answers (yeah, right!) to these and other interrogatively tedious lugubriosities, don't miss the next sentimentally superficial episode of THE STARBUCK CHRONICLES. Tune in, when we'll hear the big, dark guy with the weird haircut say, "I ain't gettin' on no Colonial Shuttle, Hannibal!" * Yeah, I knowch were blatantly absent, "are a long standing tradition in the finer Maisons d'Bovin, whereby they hire bi- lingual gypsies to hoof-read the beasts while they get their horns polished by modified bowling balls polishers." He grabbed BA's palm dramatically, tracing the lines he saw there. "I can tell by your lifeline, Angus, that you're going to make fine ground beef, and are ultimately destined for a Captain Belly Buster Burger-there can be no greater calling, my young bull." "Oh, a bull market?" said Amy. "Let me go, Fool." BA snapped, jerking back his hand. "Or I'll grind you into the floor with your bowling ball polisher!" "Philistine," said Murdock, and sat down. He looked up as he heard the washroom door open, "Mooooooving on..." Hannibal looked up as a pale and shaky Face made his way back into the room, his hand still grasping the back of his skull. He looked at them all wearily before settling into an armchair, and after a moment's hesitation, pukends? CAN they carry out the mission and not kill any Cylons? HOW will they get aboard? WILL Dayton be able to assume command of the Base Ship? CAN the A-team operate normally while Dayton is singing Sinatra? WHAT happened to all the other characters? DO you even care? For answers to one or two of these somewhat intriguing questions, stay tuned for the next circumlocutively redundant, dolorously lugubrious episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Be here, when you'll hear Centurion Moray say: "Time-off-in-lube-might-be-nice." In the last episode of The Starbuck Chronicles, we made all kinds of optimistic promises regarding the A-team penetrating Baltar's VS BaseShip and getting Claudia back for Chameleon? Why? Not only are we hopeless romantics, but we like happy endings. The Starbuck Chronicles-Part 92 By the Usual Suspects Mission Improbable AKA Chameleon's Revenge "A shuttle? Wanting to land here?" Baltar asked Centurion Moray. (Of course, Moray is actually we said it was lost, but it was found. Omega picked it up on the scanners later, but that's another story. ===== Miss Piggy sues the National Enquirer will not be seen at this time. In it's place, we present the following load of bull. The Starbuck Chronicles Part 75 "All right, everyone, listen up." Commander Adama rose slowly to his feet, standing with his arms behind his back and his feet apart, as the council room came alive and Mrs. Peel started pouring champagne (Dom Perignon, '28) into Dibley's mouth from her (kinky) boot. "It's time to get things somewhat back on track, as this has gone on long enough. Do you realize this all started with a Triad Game?" Most of them stared at him in shock... or boredom. Go Team! "I thought not." Adama sighed. "I have shuttles standing by in launch bay Alpha to take all of you non- residents back to your planet, ship or demonic underworld of origin." "Blimey, that's mighty generous of you, Gut his feet up on the seljuk (they were fresh out of ottomans at the moment). "Care to tell us what happened, Lieutenant?" "I puked." A slight smile hovered on Starbuck's lips. "While technically accurate, it wasn't what I was referring to, Face." Hannibal answered, appreciating his second's attempt at humour, but questioning his timing. "Look, Pal," Starbuck paused, letting out a deep breath. He had to level with these guys. "I think you have me confused with someone else. I'm not Charlie." He hesitated as they all looked at him funny. "I mean, Face." "Really?" Hannibal drawled, leaning back on the couch. "Look kid, if you're in some kind of trouble, I think you know by now that you can tell your friends. We've been together since `Nam, we're not going to let you down now." Starbuck mimed the strange word, wondering what a `nom' was. Or perhaps wondering what was truly in a `nom'. Odd nomenclature, to be sure. He looked up curiously as the lank a character in the VS, but we're stealing him for the cheapest of all reasons. No creativity. Or maybe no requirement to pay royalties. Or a brief mention in the previous episode. Still, we doubt Eric will mind. However, to be fair, if he mentions it in the next three point two microns, we'll change the name to Centurion Moron. Pause. Waiting. No protests? Thanks, Eric. Okay, good to go.) "I don't recall asking for a tailor?" "You-didn't," Centurion Moray confirmed, checking his data pad (with the words "DON'T PANIC" stamped in large friendly letters across it.) "Your-wife-did. Your-robes-are-losing-their-integrity. My-optical-sensors-confirm-that-the-fibres-are-separating-and-wearing." "You never mentioned it before," Baltar pointed out irritably. He looked reflectively at his reflection in a reflective surface, reflecting on his appearance. "I-was-unaware-of-the-Human-importance-for-appearance-until-we-joined- -the-Fleet." "Hmm. What is the name of this...thv." Dibley smiled, wiping his mouth on Mrs. Peel's...well....pressed napkin. "We will meet again, Adama!" smiled Iblis, evilly. "Give it a fracking rest, Boray Buns!" said Belloby, kicking him in the shins. "We're going home, Toto, we're finally going home!" "Uh..." Adama stared at the young girl with pigtails, a blue dress and ruby red slippers as she cuddled her (live) daggit. "I'm not sure I recall..." "Oh? Well, perhaps you weren't paying attention," she suggested with a huff. "Let's go home! There's no place like home!" Somebody ordered a garland of flowers, right? "No, but I ordered some Punch." Boxey help up his hand as he jumped up and down.. "Hawaiian?" Hummer asked. "How would you like some nice Hawaiian Punch, Boxey?" Igraine asked with a twisted smile. "No time for that now. Off to the launch bay," said Hector, taking her arm. Adama pasted a cheery smile on his face as the young girly man with the brown jacket and strange hat walked over and pushed his legs aside, sitting opposite him on the footstool. "Now Facey, tell dearrrr ole Doc Murrrrdock what's fashing you, me laddie." Starbuck peered at him as he registered yet one more accent. He shook his head in bewilderment, wondering why they didn't have a ship somewhere for people like this Murdock...Wait a micron, they did. In Paddon's Xover with GAL80. A ship full of nutcases. He'd have to check with Eric about that later... "Where am I?" "Santa Barbara," Hannibal told him, studying him intently. He was playing the part really well... but then, he was the Faceman. Starbuck leaned back, distancing himself from Murdock, and fingering the beige pants he was wearing. His black short-sleeved shirt was not regulation, in fact, he had never seen its like. He ran a hand back through his hair, marveling again, as he had in the turbo flush, at the short style. Not what he would have chosen. So and the android began to lead the congregation out of the Council Chamber and towards the launch bay. How they knew the way, he wasn't sure, but since all he really wanted was to return to his quarters for some privacy, he didn't really care. Tigh would take care of it. "This ain't over, Gramps!" said Igraine, yelling back over the parade of people. "You will be hearing from my lawyers!" Athena paused at the door, letting the last of the stranger than strange strangers file out. "Where is it?" "What?" Adama asked, his eyes wide with innocence. "My lingerie. We've had this little talk before, Father. Give me back my lingerie." Adama straightened his shoulders. "I don't know what you're talking about." "Uh huh, and Cylons plant trees for Arbor Day," Athena hissed. "I'm not backing down on this. Give it up, or I'll tell Boxey." Adama grimaced, looking both ways, pulling the paper bag out from behind his back. "I was just going to.is tailor?" Baltar asked, finding it unusual that Claudia hadn't mentioned it to him that she was having him fitted for some new clothes. "Tinker," Moray replied. "Tinker Tailor?" Baltar asked, raising his eyebrows. "What next?" "Time-off-in-lube-might-be-nice," Moray replied. "Excuse me?" sniff sniff "You-are-excused." Moray looked at him a moment. "Honestly." "Oh, go do a self-diagnostic, Moray," Baltar ordered him. "Do-I-have-your-permission-for-the-Tinker's-shuttle-to-land?" "Very well." "By-your-command." "Damn right." "Are you ready, BA?" Hannibal asked, as the Sergeant continued to tinker with the pile of refuse they had found in the back of the shuttle. After all, they had reached that scene in the episode where they needed to build something, not only fabulous, but (marginally) relevant to the plotline. "I will be, Colonel," the bejewelled big man replied, his attention still on the internal cirmeone would have had to gotten him pretty drunk to pull this off. Maybe that explained the headache and nausea... but the lump on the back of his head. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Where's that?" "California." Hannibal replied. "You do know where California is, don't know?" He raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Uh... somewhere near Hades Hole?" "Not quite. That's Tiffanys." "Though some from New York might agree with you." Murdock added with a waggle of his eyebrows. Starbuck winced slightly. The entire situation was a bit too much for him. Yeah, the Chrons had been weird so far, but this really took the mushie. "Who are you guys?" "The A-Team." Amy told him, shaking her head in confusion. "What's going on?" "More like the B-Team since Face lost our cash! I was going to rebuild the engine in my van, Sucker! Now I'm waitin' for the repo man to come callin'!" BA snarled. "Is he always this angry?" Starbuck asked M.." "Save it, Father." Athena snapped, clutching the bag to her chest and following the others. She turned at the last micron, looking back to him, "By the way, where's Starbuck?" Well, actually... "One minute Face has his nose buried in the cattle futures, and the next, he disappears for twenty-four hours, and when he comes back, all the team's cash flow is gone." Hannibal mused, hearing further retching coming from the pristine bathroom in the luxury penthouse that Face had scammed while the owner was in Cannes for the Film Festival. "What do you think happened, Colonel?" Murdock asked, measuring the steel balls in his left hand... "And what are cattle futures?" BA added, peering out the windows at the spectacular view of the pier. "Don't you ever read the financial pages?" asked Amy, walking in on the conversation. "Cattle futures," Murdock inserted, pushing a finger up the bridge of his nose as if he was adjusting his glasses-whicuitry of the small box he was holding. "Watcha making, Boomer?" Murdock asked him for the umpteenth time. "Shut up, fool! I ain't Boomer!" "Now, Boomer. Don't be so silly. Who else could you be? You don't actually think you're Colonel Tigh, do you?" Murdock made a 'tutting' noise. "You're simply not elegant enough, big guy. Dennis Weaver told me so." "Colonel!" BA snarled at Hannibal. "He distractin' me! I can't do my job with this crazy man insistin' we all spacemen!" "Well, BA. Technically, right now we are all spaceman," Face chimed in, watching the stars shoot by out the viewport. There was sure a lot of space, out there. "We're spacemen, says the Faceman!" Murdock grinned, affecting a Wolfman Jack tone, and sorting through a selection of shoe polish cans. "And that ain't no disgrace, man!" "Shut up, Murdock! Or I'll shut you up!" BA snarled. "Hey! Listen up, back there! We just received clearance to land on the Base Ship!" Apollo rurdock in concern. People had claimed that he had a temper, but this guy made Starbuck look like a lap felix. "Pretty much. With a face that ugly, wouldn't you be?" Murdock shrugged. "All right. Let's say you're not Face." Hannibal suggested, trying to regain control of the conversation.. "Let's." Starbuck agreed, sitting in a large, plush chair. "Then who are you?" "Lieutenant Starbuck of the Battlestar Galactica." "You are behind the coffee empire of all time?" said Amy. "I knew it! Can I get a deal on some stock?" Starbuck stared at her blankly as Murdock jumped to his feet. "Starbuck! I loved Starbuck! Hannibal, BA, Amy, don't you remember that science fiction series from the late seventies? I used to watch it every Sunday night at the VA, right between my G.I. Series and my electroshock treatments. Starbuck was my favourite." He rubbed his hands together euphorically. "Nice, Face. I mean, Bucko. This cinches it." he movedch were blatantly absent, "are a long standing tradition in the finer Maisons d'Bovin, whereby they hire bi- lingual gypsies to hoof-read the beasts while they get their horns polished by modified bowling balls polishers." He grabbed BA's palm dramatically, tracing the lines he saw there. "I can tell by your lifeline, Angus, that you're going to make fine ground beef, and are ultimately destined for a Captain Belly Buster Burger-there can be no greater calling, my young bull." "Oh, a bull market?" said Amy. "Let me go, Fool." BA snapped, jerking back his hand. "Or I'll grind you into the floor with your bowling ball polisher!" "Philistine," said Murdock, and sat down. He looked up as he heard the washroom door open, "Mooooooving on..." Hannibal looked up as a pale and shaky Face made his way back into the room, his hand still grasping the back of his skull. He looked at them all wearily before settling into an armchair, and after a moment's hesitation, pueported back to them. He glanced over at Starbuck in the co-pilot's seat. "How did we get into this again? I thought we left the BaseShip behind a long time back." "Yeah, we were in a race for our money," BA added, before contorting his features into a scowl...which didn't look much different from his usual expression. "I'm confused." "You tried image therapy, BA?" asked Murdock, opening one of the cans. "Worked wonders for me after my last psychotic break, I can tell ya. All those shoes..." "Can it, Murdock!" snarled BA. He looked at the rest. "I still wanna know what happened." "Dang if I can remember. Too many episodes back now, BA," Starbuck shrugged. Here. "Thanks," he told the Butler Guy, as a copy of the latest script rewrite appeared in his lap. He looked down, as the pages began to flip past of their own accord. Ahh! So that's where we are! He glanced over his shoulder at Chameleon. "Ready, Chameleon?" "You actually think you can pull thi close, putting an arm around Starbuck's shoulders, and patting his arm. "There's definitely a place for you in the Murdockian League." "Definitely," BA agreed with a sneer, looking at the conman with disgust. "...but only if I can be Apollo." Murdock finished with a grin. "All I want to do is get back where I belong," said Starbuck. "Can you guys help me?" "You need a pilot?" asked Murdock, grinning as he cleaned out his ears with Q-Tips. BA paced angrily towards the Colonel, "I ain't gettin' on no Colonial Shuttle, Hannibal!" WILL the team believe Starbuck? HOW will Bucko make it back to the Galactica? WHY were both Face and Adama reading cattle futures? CAN the Alpha Bay shuttle leave soon enough? WILL the kid's paternity ever be settled? WHAT about the fearsome Count Iblis? WHAT are the precise measurements of Athena's lingerie? WHICH fruits will go into the punch? FOR the answer to questions, none of which are mentioned abovt his feet up on the seljuk (they were fresh out of ottomans at the moment). "Care to tell us what happened, Lieutenant?" "I puked." A slight smile hovered on Starbuck's lips. "While technically accurate, it wasn't what I was referring to, Face." Hannibal answered, appreciating his second's attempt at humour, but questioning his timing. "Look, Pal," Starbuck paused, letting out a deep breath. He had to level with these guys. "I think you have me confused with someone else. I'm not Charlie." He hesitated as they all looked at him funny. "I mean, Face." "Really?" Hannibal drawled, leaning back on the couch. "Look kid, if you're in some kind of trouble, I think you know by now that you can tell your friends. We've been together since `Nam, we're not going to let you down now." Starbuck mimed the strange word, wondering what a `nom' was. Or perhaps wondering what was truly in a `nom'. Odd nomenclature, to be sure. He looked up curiously as the lanks off?" Chameleon looked at him doubtfully. "I know the writers," Starbuck told him conspiratorially, gesturing with the script. "So do I," Chameleon snorted, rolling his eyes, with a glance over at Dayton and Vector. "I don't know how I let him talk me into these things," the Earthman remarked to the android. "Maybe if you and he had not been drunk, watching That's Entertainment II," replied the cybernaut. "Keep it up, and I'll give you a face like Margaret Hamilton, Diode Breath!" "Jeez! testy!" Centurion Moray waited as the Colonial shuttle came to a stop, and the hatch opened. A moment later, four Humans debarked, the white-haired one holding a large basket. "Centurion Moray?" the Human asked. "Tinker-Tailor?" Moray asked in kind. "Soldier Spy," Hannibal grinned, as BA pulled out his remote control unit on his cue, pressing the large red button. The theme from Mission Improbable began playing. "Oops," winced e, tune in for the next episode of The Starcrossing Chronicles when you'll hear Hannibal say, "I love it when a pram comes together." ======= Senator Kennedy Swears Off Booze will not be seen at this time. It its place, we present the following, which may be equally hard to swallow. The Starbuck Chronicles Part 76 (Whew!!) When you're a supplies officer in this man's army, you generally learn to use everything at your disposal to get your unit what they need to get the job done. He had done that many a time, and earned himself the reputation of being the best while in the field, and beyond it. He had a knack for knowing how to get what he wanted out of people. But this time the situation was a little different. There was never a time in Templeton Peck's life when he had considered himself totally out of his element, but as he looked through the enormous porthole style window, gazing out at an infinite number of stars, and a few odd-looking space vehicles, he realizy man with the brown jacket and strange hat walked over and pushed his legs aside, sitting opposite him on the footstool. "Now Facey, tell dearrrr ole Doc Murrrrdock what's fashing you, me laddie." Starbuck peered at him as he registered yet one more accent. He shook his head in bewilderment, wondering why they didn't have a ship somewhere for people like this Murdock...Wait a micron, they did. In Paddon's Xover with GAL80. A ship full of nutcases. He'd have to check with Eric about that later... "Where am I?" "Santa Barbara," Hannibal told him, studying him intently. He was playing the part really well... but then, he was the Faceman. Starbuck leaned back, distancing himself from Murdock, and fingering the beige pants he was wearing. His black short-sleeved shirt was not regulation, in fact, he had never seen its like. He ran a hand back through his hair, marveling again, as he had in the turbo flush, at the short style. Not what he would have chosen. SoBA, pulling out another black box, and pushing another button. It was like nothing Moray had ever experienced before. He was suddenly and irrevocably stricken with an urge to...sing and dance. Abruptly, two older beings jumped off the shuttle, one Humanoid, the other Android. Both looked strangely graceful. "Take it, Vect-orrrrrrrrrrr!" Chameleon called over to the android. "I could while away the hours, conferrin' with the flowers, consultin' with the rain. And my head I'd be scratchin' while my thoughts were busy hatchin', if I only had a brain," Vector sang, launching into a dance. One by one, the Centurions began to follow him, until a an entire chorus line of Centurions were dancing with him...down the yellow brick road. (Actually, it was a yellow deckplate road, as several of the landing bay's deckplates began to turn yellow, one after the other, leading across the bay. And, just to keep it all legal, we did pay GE a royalty for stealing their commercial.) Moraed this might be the first. "Starbuck?" Face turned towards the voice murmuring near his ear to see a beautiful woman, clutching some rather alluring lingerie coyly to her chest. His eyes drifted over her as he imagined it on her shapely form, then off, instead of clutched tightly in her grasp. Her dark hair hung loosely on her bare shoulders, and her beautiful blue eyes looked him over in... concern. That could only be an advantage. "Huh?" He cocked an eyebrow in question. "Coffee?" He brushed a spec of lint from the beige tunic that was the apparent uniform on board this vessel; he had seen enough of them by now. He wasn't sure how he had come to be wearing it, but at least it fit, and from the way women passing by had been admiring him, apparently the Faceman was looking good! "Are you alright, Starbuck?" Athena touched his arm gently. "Where have you been? Everyone's been looking for you since coming through the wormhole." She looked curiously at thmeone would have had to gotten him pretty drunk to pull this off. Maybe that explained the headache and nausea... but the lump on the back of his head. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Where's that?" "California." Hannibal replied. "You do know where California is, don't know?" He raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Uh... somewhere near Hades Hole?" "Not quite. That's Tiffanys." "Though some from New York might agree with you." Murdock added with a waggle of his eyebrows. Starbuck winced slightly. The entire situation was a bit too much for him. Yeah, the Chrons had been weird so far, but this really took the mushie. "Who are you guys?" "The A-Team." Amy told him, shaking her head in confusion. "What's going on?" "More like the B-Team since Face lost our cash! I was going to rebuild the engine in my van, Sucker! Now I'm waitin' for the repo man to come callin'!" BA snarled. "Is he always this angry?" Starbuck asked My couldn't stop himself. It was as though somehow the black box was making him move against his will. But it was kind of...fun. And fun was a new concept to him. Time-off-in-lube, indeed! "I always wanted a remote controlled Cylon," BA laughed, as Starbuck, Apollo, Dayton and Chameleon ran past them, heading for the Central Core. "Nice, BA," Hannibal grinned, holding out his hand to his Lieutenant. "Cigar, Face." "Thanks, Hannibal." "I can't believe it worked!" Apollo shook his head in disbelief. "It was so easy!" "We should have hired the A-team yahrens ago!" Starbuck agreed, as he ran past three more dancing/singing Cylons. "The frequency seems to have penetrated the whole ship, affecting all the Cylons!" "I'd unravel every riddle for any individ'le, in trouble or in pain..." "That's why they call them the A-team," Chameleon opined, looking desperately for Claudia. As he did so, Amy shoved a sauce-covered pizza bread stick in his mouth. (e bag he carried at his side. "What's that?" Face looked down at the bag. He'd honestly been wondering about that himself. Of all the things he could have brought to this strange place so far from home-a nice Armani suit; a quick ride home; condoms; a .357 Magnum, nickel plated, six round, double action revolver with a six inch barrel; his coffee-club card; Marie Osmond's picture, or even an intact memory of how he had come to be here-no, he ends up with a bag of Bernard Callebaut chocolate. "Uh... Callebaut," he shrugged with a faint smile. Well, if he was going to end up with a bag of chocolate, at least it was the finest. From the price on the receipt, it sure as Hell better be! Athena shook her head in bemusement. "Cal a...What's that?" Face smiled. "You've never tried Callebaut?" He stepped closer to her, almost purring the words as he looked slowly from side to side, furtively checking for onlookers. "No." Athena hesitated. "Really, whaturdock in concern. People had claimed that he had a temper, but this guy made Starbuck look like a lap felix. "Pretty much. With a face that ugly, wouldn't you be?" Murdock shrugged. "All right. Let's say you're not Face." Hannibal suggested, trying to regain control of the conversation.. "Let's." Starbuck agreed, sitting in a large, plush chair. "Then who are you?" "Lieutenant Starbuck of the Battlestar Galactica." "You are behind the coffee empire of all time?" said Amy. "I knew it! Can I get a deal on some stock?" Starbuck stared at her blankly as Murdock jumped to his feet. "Starbuck! I loved Starbuck! Hannibal, BA, Amy, don't you remember that science fiction series from the late seventies? I used to watch it every Sunday night at the VA, right between my G.I. Series and my electroshock treatments. Starbuck was my favourite." He rubbed his hands together euphorically. "Nice, Face. I mean, Bucko. This cinches it." he movedHey, we didn't want to leave her out, ya know!) "Couldn't they at least pick a better song, Mocha Froth?" Dayton groused. "A little Sinatra? Tony Bennett? Maybe some Satchmo?" He shook his head in disgust. "I don't think I could command a ship of singing/dancing Cylons if they're going to keep doing the Wizard of Oz." "Let's finish the mission first, Dayton, then worry about it. Huh?" Starbuck returned. He turned down the corridor to where he remembered Baltar having his pedestal. The four men burst through the door, coming to a stop as they saw Claudia and Baltar in the middle of a conversation. "Claudia! Beloved!" Chameleon called out. Or rather tried to. It came out more like: "Claaaadhh, drrrlgggg!" He swallowed his pizza sauce covered bread stick, and tried again. "Claudia! Beloved!" "Sheesh! You and your son," hissed Amy. "Chameleon!" Claudia gasped, her expression first ecstatic, and then horrified, as she snapped her dress from Baltar's grasp. "You sho is it?" "Belgian Chocolate." "What's Belgian chocolate?" Athena asked. "You're kidding me right?" "No." Athena returned, this time a little briskly. "Why would I ask if I knew what you were talking about?" "A woman who doesn't know about Belgian chocolate?" Face asked incredulously. "Where the hell am I anyhow? Mars?" "Umm...they have...uh, chocolate there, too?" she asked innocently. He grinned at the joke, and then looked out the porthole again, his grin slipping fast. "What did you call me again? Starstruck?" "Uh... Starbuck. That's your name." She looked at him appraisingly, and then suspiciously. "Just what is it that you're trying to pull?" He raised his hands reflexively, "Nothing. I'm just a bit ... uh... discombobulated. I hit my head... or someone hit it for me. I'm not even sure..." He rubbed the back of his neck tentatively and didn't fail to notice her irate facade immediately changed back to o close, putting an arm around Starbuck's shoulders, and patting his arm. "There's definitely a place for you in the Murdockian League." "Definitely," BA agreed with a sneer, looking at the conman with disgust. "...but only if I can be Apollo." Murdock finished with a grin. "All I want to do is get back where I belong," said Starbuck. "Can you guys help me?" "You need a pilot?" asked Murdock, grinning as he cleaned out his ears with Q-Tips. BA paced angrily towards the Colonel, "I ain't gettin' on no Colonial Shuttle, Hannibal!" WILL the team believe Starbuck? HOW will Bucko make it back to the Galactica? WHY were both Face and Adama reading cattle futures? CAN the Alpha Bay shuttle leave soon enough? WILL the kid's paternity ever be settled? WHAT about the fearsome Count Iblis? WHAT are the precise measurements of Athena's lingerie? WHICH fruits will go into the punch? FOR the answer to questions, none of which are mentioned abovuldn't be here!" "Lords, do you mind?" cried Baltar. Chameleon crossed to her, taking both her hands in his. "No, my love. It is you who shouldn't be here. Not with...him." He managed to convey all his disgust in a single glance when he regarded the Traitor of Humanity, before he looked back at Claudia. "I'm taking you home, Claudia. I won't take 'no' for an answer." "That's right," Starbuck added adamantly, as Apollo nodded. "You two!" Baltar snarled. "I had a deal with Belloby and the script.....uh, with Adama that I wouldn't have to ever be subjected to..." he trembled with fury. "You two again!" "Hey, I felt the same way after hearing the Joshua Tree a few hundred times," Dayton quipped, then frowned when they all looked at him in confusion. That was the problem with Earth jokes, after all. They were so....well, Earth. Where was Ryan when he needed him most? Don't ask me, came Ryan's voice in Dayton's head. Ask the writers. Giggle....gigglene of tender concern. "Uh...what's your name?" he cocked his head slightly to the side. "Athena." "The Greek goddess?" Heck, she was sure built like one... She gently took his arm. "Let me take you to Life Station, Starbuck. Maybe you should see Dr. Salik. I think that battle with the demons from Hades Hole might have been a bit much for you. That and all of Mrs. Peel's champagne." "Demons from Hades Hole?" Face looked at her quizzically. "Is that a football team?" He ran a hand through his hair, which seemed unfashionably long... yet soft and manageable... and it seemed to bounce and behave. It seemed to have been washed recently, and he was able to do something with it, so obviously he was using the correct products out here in... wherever he was. He hoped he could find out what the shampoo was so he could tell two friends, and they could tell two friends, and so on, and so on, and so on... Hopefully it was Prell. He owned stock. "Where did you say e, tune in for the next episode of The Starcrossing Chronicles when you'll hear Hannibal say, "I love it when a pram comes together." ======= Senator Kennedy Swears Off Booze will not be seen at this time. It its place, we present the following, which may be equally hard to swallow. The Starbuck Chronicles Part 76 (Whew!!) When you're a supplies officer in this man's army, you generally learn to use everything at your disposal to get your unit what they need to get the job done. He had done that many a time, and earned himself the reputation of being the best while in the field, and beyond it. He had a knack for knowing how to get what he wanted out of people. But this time the situation was a little different. There was never a time in Templeton Peck's life when he had considered himself totally out of his element, but as he looked through the enormous porthole style window, gazing out at an infinite number of stars, and a few odd-looking space vehicles, he realiz... Ama, please! Those sheets are pricey! "Looks like fate keeps bringing us together, Baltar," Apollo returned. "Or someone with a keyboard! What is the meaning of this?" Baltar returned, as they seemed to close in on him, while Chameleon led Claudia away, encircled protectively in his arms. "I won't stand for this! Guards!" "Afraid you don't have much choice, Baltar," Starbuck grinned, pulling out a fumarello and waiting ever so patiently. And waited. And waited. Starbuck sighed in annoyance, and Baltar was just about to scream "Well?" when Apollo said: "THAT'S YOUR CUE!!!!!!!" Three dancing and singing Cylons entered the room. "Oh, I could tell you why the ocean's near the shore. I could think of things I never thunk before. And then I'd sit, and think some more..." Starbuck struck a match on the last Centurion as it danced back out of the room. "They're not bad, huh? At least considering this is their first show. Not a lot of rehewe were?" "On our way to Life Station." Athena reminded him, tugging him gently along. "No, no." He paused, turning to face her. "What vessel is this? We are moving right?" He chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair once again. Great conditioner too. "I kind of feel like I've been caught up in some bad science fiction TV series from the seventies." He looked around suspiciously. "Did someone slip me some of Murdock's drugs?" That must be it! BA slipped him some of Murdock's drugs. Hell, he'd been saying he was going to get revenge for years for how Face kept sedating him before plane rides. This was obviously it. Anti-psychotics were supposed to keep Murdock on an even keel, but in Face's case, it had him believing he was in outer space. He really hoped there wouldn't be any space aliens appearing in this hallucination. Really not his preference if he was going to be seeing things, after all. On the other hand, Callebaut chocolate and a beautied this might be the first. "Starbuck?" Face turned towards the voice murmuring near his ear to see a beautiful woman, clutching some rather alluring lingerie coyly to her chest. His eyes drifted over her as he imagined it on her shapely form, then off, instead of clutched tightly in her grasp. Her dark hair hung loosely on her bare shoulders, and her beautiful blue eyes looked him over in... concern. That could only be an advantage. "Huh?" He cocked an eyebrow in question. "Coffee?" He brushed a spec of lint from the beige tunic that was the apparent uniform on board this vessel; he had seen enough of them by now. He wasn't sure how he had come to be wearing it, but at least it fit, and from the way women passing by had been admiring him, apparently the Faceman was looking good! "Are you alright, Starbuck?" Athena touched his arm gently. "Where have you been? Everyone's been looking for you since coming through the wormhole." She looked curiously at tharsal time, really." Dayton winced. "I got to talk to that BA guy. Either that or renegotiate." Go for a bailout, came Ryan's voice in his head. It worked for Goldman-Sachs. "And who are you?" Baltar asked. "I'm the guy that's taking your place," Dayton replied, grinning as the traitor suddenly looked really worried. "Don't worry, bub. This is a family show. Although you definitely deserve it, we elected not to bump you off. Instead, we're going to send you to an alternate dimension to live out your days with an Angylion sorceress. After all, your ex-wife probably wouldn't appreciate the alternative." "He'll never be able to bother you again, my love," Chameleon reassured her, as a glimmer of light began to gain substance. "But Chameleon..." Claudia protested, annoyed that her dress seemed to keep slipping from her grasp. As softly sparkling bodies of light swirled together, magically a form began to take shape, until the figure of a beautiful ful woman clutching an exciting negligee, who claimed to have never tried it... This little fantasy might be just the distraction from reading the Cattle Futures or going in the front door against some seven foot goon who wanted nothing more than to go a round or two with the handsome guy on the team... Oh, and that other weird little thing that had happened... something about some guy who wanted to teach him how to play with pyramids in a chancery... He shook his head as the images retreated. "So... Athena, do you have any other female friends who haven't tried Callebaut? Really, there's nothing like sharing a new experience with the people you care about." He smiled and leaned closer, creating an intimate atmosphere between them. As long as he was going to be hallucinating, he might as well enjoy it. "And I'd be happy to introduce you all to the food of the Gods." His eyes twinkled as he opened his bag and pulled out a truffle. "Food of the Gods?" Athena asked skepticalle bag he carried at his side. "What's that?" Face looked down at the bag. He'd honestly been wondering about that himself. Of all the things he could have brought to this strange place so far from home-a nice Armani suit; a quick ride home; condoms; a .357 Magnum, nickel plated, six round, double action revolver with a six inch barrel; his coffee-club card; Marie Osmond's picture, or even an intact memory of how he had come to be here-no, he ends up with a bag of Bernard Callebaut chocolate. "Uh... Callebaut," he shrugged with a faint smile. Well, if he was going to end up with a bag of chocolate, at least it was the finest. From the price on the receipt, it sure as Hell better be! Athena shook her head in bemusement. "Cal a...What's that?" Face smiled. "You've never tried Callebaut?" He stepped closer to her, almost purring the words as he looked slowly from side to side, furtively checking for onlookers. "No." Athena hesitated. "Really, whatwoman materialized. She was breathtaking, perfect, the most exquisite, delicate creature that he had ever seen, with hair that flowed far down her back. Like an angel sent from God, her very presence bespoke goodness and light. "Baltar, come with.....uh, to me," the goddess reached out a hand to him. "Come back with me to Morlais, and fulfil your destiny as my lover." "I thought you said it was a family show," Claudia mentioned to Dayton. "Commercial breaks. Use your imagination." "The DVD and Blue-Ray issue?" "Shh!" he replied. Baltar gasped in awe at the creature that so clearly wanted him with her. There was something alluring about her, but in a strangely familiar way, as though she was right...as though destiny had indeed decreed that they should be together. He reached out a hand towards her, allowing her to draw her to him. A warmth suffused him, as she pulled him close to her sensuously erotic, arousingly succulent body, tenderly kissing him, y until she saw the precious morsel. She took a tentative sniff. "It looks like coca." "Coca? Probably similar in nature, but I'd defy you to tell me you've ever tasted anything... as sinful as this." He smiled at her lasciviously. "Quit talking, flyboy, and give me a bite." Athena ordered him. But her smile betrayed her enjoyment of the moment. Face grinned and raised the truffle slowly to her lips. She languidly licked them before she opened them wide enough to take a bite. He held it for her as she did so. "Oh, God!" she murmured from around the exquisite taste. "What did I tell you?" he smiled, hefting the bag of chocolate. He raised his eyebrows in silent question. "What are we waiting for?" Athena took him by the arm. * * * * * "Face, of all the cockamamie delusions to go off on... if you were going to pick a good series from the seventies, why couldn't it have been Starsky and Hutch?" Hannibal demanded as he rose t is it?" "Belgian Chocolate." "What's Belgian chocolate?" Athena asked. "You're kidding me right?" "No." Athena returned, this time a little briskly. "Why would I ask if I knew what you were talking about?" "A woman who doesn't know about Belgian chocolate?" Face asked incredulously. "Where the hell am I anyhow? Mars?" "Umm...they have...uh, chocolate there, too?" she asked innocently. He grinned at the joke, and then looked out the porthole again, his grin slipping fast. "What did you call me again? Starstruck?" "Uh... Starbuck. That's your name." She looked at him appraisingly, and then suspiciously. "Just what is it that you're trying to pull?" He raised his hands reflexively, "Nothing. I'm just a bit ... uh... discombobulated. I hit my head... or someone hit it for me. I'm not even sure..." He rubbed the back of his neck tentatively and didn't fail to notice her irate facade immediately changed back to o as though they were long-parted lovers, suddenly reunited. He could almost believe it, so tantalizing was her spell. Then a flash of light exploded, followed by a brief period of (Stygian) darkness. (Maybe it was the censors. We're not sure.) Then, when he again opened his eyes, he groaned aloud at the sight that met his gaze. "Baltar, let me introduce you to Princes Glynn and Llewelyn," Eirys' hypnotic voice purred in his ear, as three singing Cylons danced by. "I would not be just a nothin' my head all full of stuffin', my heart all full of pain. I would dance and be merry, life would be a ding-a-derry, if I only had a brain." He shook his head in disbelief, indeed, at the utter improbability of it all, as the doublewalkers of Apollo and Starbuck smiled back at him. "NO! Not you two again!" "You're Baltar's brother?" Adama asked Dayton over the comm, stroking his chin thoughtfully. Not only was there a conspicuous lack of resemblance, but as far as Adamao his feet. "Now, Colonel, as you should probably know by now, it isn't always a good idea to confront someone having delusions." Murdock stroked his chin absently. "Now me, I'd a picked Perry Mason reruns. Or maybe Hawaii Five-O. I mean hey, at that age I always wanted to say 'Book 'em, Murdo!'" "I'm not having delusions!" Starbuck protested from the easy chair. "Of course you are, Facey." Murdock shrugged. "But that's okay! Delusions can be fun! Come on over to the VA hospital sometime, and I'll show you. In fact, just imagine that the big guy there," he pointed towards the scowling BA, "is Boomer! This could be great! I'm Apollo, you're Starbuck, Amy could be Athena, and now we have a Boomer!" "A Boomer? You're a crazy man! I ain't no missile sub!" BA barked at him. "Well, technically BA, the baby boomer generation encompassed those born from 1946-1964, so, in actuality, you're a boomer too." Murdock told him before he launched into song. "I'ne of tender concern. "Uh...what's your name?" he cocked his head slightly to the side. "Athena." "The Greek goddess?" Heck, she was sure built like one... She gently took his arm. "Let me take you to Life Station, Starbuck. Maybe you should see Dr. Salik. I think that battle with the demons from Hades Hole might have been a bit much for you. That and all of Mrs. Peel's champagne." "Demons from Hades Hole?" Face looked at her quizzically. "Is that a football team?" He ran a hand through his hair, which seemed unfashionably long... yet soft and manageable... and it seemed to bounce and behave. It seemed to have been washed recently, and he was able to do something with it, so obviously he was using the correct products out here in... wherever he was. He hoped he could find out what the shampoo was so he could tell two friends, and they could tell two friends, and so on, and so on, and so on... Hopefully it was Prell. He owned stock. "Where did you say m a boomer, you're a boomer, he's a boomer, she's a boomer, wouldn't you like to be a boomer too!" Starbuck jumped to his feet, wincing as his throbbing head protested. Speaking of boomers... "I'm not delusional! I'm not Face! I don't know how I got here, but there must be some way of proving that I'm not the guy you seem to think I am!" "Go ahead." Hannibal nodded, sitting back down. "This should be good," said Amy. "Can't we do a genetic scan or something like that?" Starbuck asked. "How about I just pound you into the ground until you tell us the truth, Fool?" BA took a threatening step towards him. "Uh... I really like my idea better." Starbuck replied, glancing briefly at Hannibal, who was clearly enjoying the situation. He returned his gaze to BA, sizing the man up, but not ceding ground. BA made the Borellian Nomen look like the Virgon Boy's Choir. "You lost our money, Faceman! Now you're pulling some scam on us! I don' knew, Count Baltar had been an only child. Thank God! "Half-brother," Dayton explained with an annoyed glance at Starbuck who was nodding his encouragement from off-screen in the Base Ship's Control Center. "My old man never told Baltar's mother." He left it at that. Adama wouldn't want to hear gruesome details of Baltar's father's fictional romantic liaison. At least, that was his theory. In the background, Chameleon and Claudia were slow dancing as Starbuck's father softly sang an old love song. It was kind of sweet. Or as sweet as One more for the road ever gets. "And Baltar left you in charge of his BaseShip before he...disappeared?" Adama verified, catching a glimpse of Starbuck in the background. Suddenly, everything was making a little more sense. "That's right, Commander," Dayton replied. "Centurion Moron and I are like this," he crossed his index and middle finger together to illustrate just how close they were. "Moray!" Apollo corrected him. we were?" "On our way to Life Station." Athena reminded him, tugging him gently along. "No, no." He paused, turning to face her. "What vessel is this? We are moving right?" He chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair once again. Great conditioner too. "I kind of feel like I've been caught up in some bad science fiction TV series from the seventies." He looked around suspiciously. "Did someone slip me some of Murdock's drugs?" That must be it! BA slipped him some of Murdock's drugs. Hell, he'd been saying he was going to get revenge for years for how Face kept sedating him before plane rides. This was obviously it. Anti-psychotics were supposed to keep Murdock on an even keel, but in Face's case, it had him believing he was in outer space. He really hoped there wouldn't be any space aliens appearing in this hallucination. Really not his preference if he was going to be seeing things, after all. On the other hand, Callebaut chocolate and a beautit like it, sucka! You don't scam guys who covered your butt in Nam!" BA reached for the smaller man menacingly. Starbuck swayed back for just a micron, letting the enormous man believe he was retreating, before thrusting his arm forward and slamming BA under the nose with a palm heel strike. BA rocked back on his heels momentarily and then tumbled to the floor as he covered his bloody nose with his hands. He blinked back the stars that flashed incessantly in his eyes, and stared in utter shock at the man who was standing over him, ready to strike again if necessary. "That ain't our Faceman, Hannibal!" Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. "What the frack was that?" Starbuck asked, whirling around. "A knock on the door." Murdock replied. "What does that mean?" Starbuck asked, clearly bewildered. "Oh, right. You don't knock on doors in SciFi." Murdock replied, shaking his head that he had missed that. "Just pretend it's an entry chime." "Check the rewrites. It's Moron, now," Dayton told him. "Damn!" said Moray/Moron, somewhere. "When-I-catch-Bello.... the-writers,-they-are-toast!" "Why the change?" asked Adama. "Eric?" "No, not because Eric protested, but because I like the sound of it. I've also changed the theme music." He pointed to the Hatch. "Why are you looking at me?" asked Apollo. "Oh, right...Five, six, seven, eight!" On cue a phalanx of dancing Cylons entered, singing, "Luck be a lady tonight, Luck be a lady tonight, Luck, if you've been a lady to begin with, Luck be a lady tonight..." "I love it," Dayton began as Hannibal laughed, clapping him on the shoulder, and chiming in, "when a plan comes together!" WHAT was in the basket that Hannibal was carrying? HAVE we seen the last of Baltar? WILL Dayton be able to tolerate commanding a ship full of singing/dancing Cylons? WILL Claudia and Chameleon live happily ever after? WILL the A-Team be returning to their own continful woman clutching an exciting negligee, who claimed to have never tried it... This little fantasy might be just the distraction from reading the Cattle Futures or going in the front door against some seven foot goon who wanted nothing more than to go a round or two with the handsome guy on the team... Oh, and that other weird little thing that had happened... something about some guy who wanted to teach him how to play with pyramids in a chancery... He shook his head as the images retreated. "So... Athena, do you have any other female friends who haven't tried Callebaut? Really, there's nothing like sharing a new experience with the people you care about." He smiled and leaned closer, creating an intimate atmosphere between them. As long as he was going to be hallucinating, he might as well enjoy it. "And I'd be happy to introduce you all to the food of the Gods." His eyes twinkled as he opened his bag and pulled out a truffle. "Food of the Gods?" Athena asked skepticall "You okay, BA?" Hannibal leaned over him. "How many fingers am I holding up?" "I want my Mama!" BA replied, as Hannibal rotated in concentric patterns above him. All five of him. Murdock strode to the door and opened it. A frail, elderly gentleman stood there. "Is it the Domino's guy?" asked Amy, craning her neck towards the door. "Is Starbuck in this plotline?" the visitor asked. "Chameleon? What are you doing here?" Starbuck asked. "Damn. I'm hungry!" said Amy. "I'm not really sure. Something to do with Robert and Senmut. That whole Zaza association thing. You know how she gets." He shrugged helplessly. "I think a few stray brainwaves from Eric and Maggie might have gotten in there, too. You look like you could use some help, son." "Uh, well..." Starbuck started to reply. "Actually, I meant him." Chameleon walked in the room and leaned over BA. "What did you do to him?" "He was threatening uum now that the mission is a success? WHERE have all the other characters and plotlines gone to? IF you care to stick around and find out, tune in for the next episode of The Starbuck Chronicles when you'll hear Igraine say: "Okay, who replaced Stercuscaput with Moray? Huh, pop? Did his SAG card expire, or what?" October 12, 2009 In the last episode of The Starbuck Chronicles and with the help of the A-Team we saved Claudia from Baltar's clutches, stole Baltar's Base Ship and exiled him to Morlais (see Empyrean BSG-verse-Episode 5), and gave Commander Dayton a new job as Commander of Baltar's BaseShip (yes, I bet you never saw that one coming!). I know we promised you all sorts of things afterwards, but you should realize by now that as writers we're fickle. The Starbuck Chronicles-Part 93 Ichabod Starbuck and the Headless Centurion By Zaz and Sen Thanks to Robert and his covered bridges for inspiration, and Washington Irving, of course. "...the old country wives, hoy until she saw the precious morsel. She took a tentative sniff. "It looks like coca." "Coca? Probably similar in nature, but I'd defy you to tell me you've ever tasted anything... as sinful as this." He smiled at her lasciviously. "Quit talking, flyboy, and give me a bite." Athena ordered him. But her smile betrayed her enjoyment of the moment. Face grinned and raised the truffle slowly to her lips. She languidly licked them before she opened them wide enough to take a bite. He held it for her as she did so. "Oh, God!" she murmured from around the exquisite taste. "What did I tell you?" he smiled, hefting the bag of chocolate. He raised his eyebrows in silent question. "What are we waiting for?" Athena took him by the arm. * * * * * "Face, of all the cockamamie delusions to go off on... if you were going to pick a good series from the seventies, why couldn't it have been Starsky and Hutch?" Hannibal demanded as he rose tto pound me into the ground!" Starbuck defended himself. "I acted proactively." "He didn't really mean it, Bucko." Murdock shrugged. "He threatens that at least once a day." "How was I supposed to know that? He looked damned sincere to me!" Starbuck protested. "Enough!" Hannibal yelled. "Are you from the Battlestar Galactica too?" he asked the older man. "The Senior's Ship actually. I think perhaps I may have caused a small problem." Chameleon apologized. "You see, I happened to be visiting my favourite little chancery and was getting a little low on my luck, when I saw Starbuck flying by on a winged equine, so of course I whistled for it to bring him over... which is no mean feat when you're zipping through a wormhole on a vortex- spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside, entangled with demons, horny priestesses and bald butlers, let me tell you. I mean, for a while, people thougwever, who are the best judges of these matters, maintain to this day that Ichabod was spirited away by supernatural means; and it is a favourite story often told about the neighbourhood round the winter evening fire. The bridge became more than ever an object of superstitious awe; and that may be the reason why the road has been altered of late years, so as to approach the church by the border of the mill-pond. The schoolhouse being deserted soon fell to decay, and was reported to be haunted by the ghost of the unfortunate pedagogue and the plough-boy, loitering homeward of a still summer evening, has often fancied his voice at a distance, chanting a melancholy psalm tune among the tranquil solitudes of Sleepy Hollow." Dayton finished his tale, looking up at the group who sat transfixed before him. "Oh, that was a great story, Commander Dayton! Tell us another!" Boxey begged him. "Sorry, kid. I'm willing to bet it's past your bedtime," Dayton shook his head firmly. "With Spirit o his feet. "Now, Colonel, as you should probably know by now, it isn't always a good idea to confront someone having delusions." Murdock stroked his chin absently. "Now me, I'd a picked Perry Mason reruns. Or maybe Hawaii Five-O. I mean hey, at that age I always wanted to say 'Book 'em, Murdo!'" "I'm not having delusions!" Starbuck protested from the easy chair. "Of course you are, Facey." Murdock shrugged. "But that's okay! Delusions can be fun! Come on over to the VA hospital sometime, and I'll show you. In fact, just imagine that the big guy there," he pointed towards the scowling BA, "is Boomer! This could be great! I'm Apollo, you're Starbuck, Amy could be Athena, and now we have a Boomer!" "A Boomer? You're a crazy man! I ain't no missile sub!" BA barked at him. "Well, technically BA, the baby boomer generation encompassed those born from 1946-1964, so, in actuality, you're a boomer too." Murdock told him before he launched into song. "I'ht I was related to Robert Wagner, and wanted to know where Ginger was. Well, about that time a large boom occurred, or maybe it was a boomer, I'm not certain. For no good reason, other than it suits the plotline, a man who looked very much like Starbuck appeared with the Cattle Futures and a currency draft for his team's retirement funds." He smiled at Hannibal. Hannibal winced, clearly not liking where he was going with this. "Well, we had a lovely evening gambling and drinking. Even went to a Chocolaterie. The boys got to know each other, and it turns out that Templeton... your Faceman... is descended from the Thirteenth Tribe of Kobol. Which pretty much means that at some point one of my ancestors jumped ship just before they decided to make the journey to Earth... he probably didn't have the fare, realistically, or he lost it in a card game." Chameleon shrugged. "Instead, he went to Caprica. Starbuck and Face are related. Amazing isn't it?" "All except for one thingNight on its way, you'd best get tucked in, say your prayers, and get a good night's sleep." "Like anybody could get a good night's sleep after that story," Starbuck muttered, his hand inadvertently rubbing his throat, as the Legend of Sleepy Hollow replayed way too vividly in his mind. Dayton laughed aloud. "Did I creep you out, Mocha Man?" "Let's just say your choice of bedtime stories is a bit different from the Matron's at the Orphanage. Poor kid will have nightmares." "No, I won't, Starbuck," Boxey giggled. "I love Spirit Night stories!" "Then I'll have nightmares!" Starbuck averred. "Baltus van Tassel! Sagan sakes, Dayton!" "Don't ya worry, Spaceman," BA chuckled. "If the Headless Horseman chases ya down in ya sleep, we'll come to ya rescue." "After pumpkin pie," Murdock added with a smile as Starbuck scowled at him. "I mean hey, until I've had my pumpkin pie, I'm just worthless. In fact, my grandmother used to say..." "You was pretty well m a boomer, you're a boomer, he's a boomer, she's a boomer, wouldn't you like to be a boomer too!" Starbuck jumped to his feet, wincing as his throbbing head protested. Speaking of boomers... "I'm not delusional! I'm not Face! I don't know how I got here, but there must be some way of proving that I'm not the guy you seem to think I am!" "Go ahead." Hannibal nodded, sitting back down. "This should be good," said Amy. "Can't we do a genetic scan or something like that?" Starbuck asked. "How about I just pound you into the ground until you tell us the truth, Fool?" BA took a threatening step towards him. "Uh... I really like my idea better." Starbuck replied, glancing briefly at Hannibal, who was clearly enjoying the situation. He returned his gaze to BA, sizing the man up, but not ceding ground. BA made the Borellian Nomen look like the Virgon Boy's Choir. "You lost our money, Faceman! Now you're pulling some scam on us! I don'." Starbuck inserted. "You said that one of your ancestors jumped ship, not one of my..." he trailed off, paling as he realized the significance of his words. "You mean, you really are my...?" Chameleon nodded briefly. "I've been trying to figure out a way to tell you for some time, but then you took off on these adventures, and I really haven't seen you since." "Ahhhh!" Murdock gushed. "Bucko, you have a family!" Starbuck simply stared at the man, struck dumb. "I hate to interrupt this tender scene," Hannibal remarked a trifle sarcastically, lighting a new stogie, "but how do you get back to the Galactica and how do we get Face back?" "I want my little brother back. This guy is a maniac!" BA snarled, from behind a bloody wad of gauze over his nose. "And our money!" added Amy. "After all, we gotta pay the Dominos...ah, maybe that's him now." "Did you find the pram?" Chameleon asked. "The pram?" "Yes, when Starbuckworthless, anyway," snarled BA. "Ah, I love you too, BA," replied Murdock, checking pie recipes on his Blackberry. "I ought to stick you guys in a Celebrity Deathmatch ring, just for fun," said Dayton. "Whaddya think, Murdock?" "My hero," he grumbled. "We aim to please." "After Boxey goes to bed," Hannibal piped up, "I have another Halloween story that will really scare the..." Starbuck stood to go. "I have early patrol tomorrow. I think I'll turn in." "Aw, Starbuck! Don't be a scaredy felix!" Boxey teased him, as the others erupted into laughter. With a quick wave, the fearless Colonial Warrior beat a hasty path out of there. Starbuck punched his pillow, tossing in his bunk one more time, as he tried to get to sleep. The billet was quiet, except for the usual rest period noises in a room full of pilots. But how Jolly's snoring could turn into the anxious snort of an equine when he began to drift off, jolting him back awake...well, it wast like it, sucka! You don't scam guys who covered your butt in Nam!" BA reached for the smaller man menacingly. Starbuck swayed back for just a micron, letting the enormous man believe he was retreating, before thrusting his arm forward and slamming BA under the nose with a palm heel strike. BA rocked back on his heels momentarily and then tumbled to the floor as he covered his bloody nose with his hands. He blinked back the stars that flashed incessantly in his eyes, and stared in utter shock at the man who was standing over him, ready to strike again if necessary. "That ain't our Faceman, Hannibal!" Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. "What the frack was that?" Starbuck asked, whirling around. "A knock on the door." Murdock replied. "What does that mean?" Starbuck asked, clearly bewildered. "Oh, right. You don't knock on doors in SciFi." Murdock replied, shaking his head that he had missed that. "Just pretend it's an entry chime." and Face entered the Perambulator 500, the one Vela lost to you in a card game, they had a souped up little Silver Cross with the sun canopy..." "Fr...Chameleon, what the frack are you talking about?" Starbuck asked testily. "I think perhaps you had a few too many Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters, son." Chameleon shrugged. "You both climbed on her and rode her through the wormhole... but evidently Face somehow ended up on the Galactica in your body, and you ended up here in his." "Just who was this you rode through a wormhole?" asked Amy. "Oooh, Faceman. Maybe you should be talking to her. Or the law." "Hannibal!" Murdock called from the bedroom. "I've found the pram! It's in about eight different pieces." "Well, then, let's put her back together." Hannibal grinned. "After all, I love it when a pram comes together." WILL Starbuck be able to soup the Silver Cross back up and get back in the Perambulator 500? WHAT would the prize be for just a little ridiculous. After all, how could he even equate any place he'd been with a place like Sleepy Hollow? It wasn't as if they still had covered bridges on Caprica, and people went riding about on equineback anymore! Pulling his pillow over his head, he flopped onto his stomach and willed himself to go to sleep. After all, the quicker he got to sleep, the quicker he'd escape to his long-range patrol in time for Spirit Night... It was the music that had awakened him. He blinked groggily, as the strange sound filled the air. It was cheerful and jaunty...and most definitely out of place on a Battlestar. He opened his eyes, surprised to find the billet completely empty, except for himself, and the jocular sounds of frivolity drifting into the room. "What the fra..." he murmured, checking his chrono. It was 2359 centars. Click. It was now 2400. And apparently somebody was having a party. Feeling as though he was in a fog, he slowly climbed out of bed, pulling on his uniform "You okay, BA?" Hannibal leaned over him. "How many fingers am I holding up?" "I want my Mama!" BA replied, as Hannibal rotated in concentric patterns above him. All five of him. Murdock strode to the door and opened it. A frail, elderly gentleman stood there. "Is it the Domino's guy?" asked Amy, craning her neck towards the door. "Is Starbuck in this plotline?" the visitor asked. "Chameleon? What are you doing here?" Starbuck asked. "Damn. I'm hungry!" said Amy. "I'm not really sure. Something to do with Robert and Senmut. That whole Zaza association thing. You know how she gets." He shrugged helplessly. "I think a few stray brainwaves from Eric and Maggie might have gotten in there, too. You look like you could use some help, son." "Uh, well..." Starbuck started to reply. "Actually, I meant him." Chameleon walked in the room and leaned over BA. "What did you do to him?" "He was threatening winning? CAN he get back to the Galactica? WILL he take Chameleon with him? IS Athena going to share the Callebaut with friends, or will she keep it to herself? WHAT is she going to do with that negligee? WILL she take Face along, or dump him in favour of the chocolate? HOW did this story ever get so screwed up? For some putative answers to these and a whole bunch of other questions and stuff, don't miss the next satirically convoluted episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when you'll hear Chameleon say, "He dances like a Cylon... and I'm not talking about Cy, either." Or, if you are especially sinful and wicked, you MIGHT get to not hear the Butler Guy say, Extra pineapple on that, right? **************************** Martha Stewart Cleans up the Penal System will not be seen at this time. In its place we present the following examples of arrested development. When we last left our heroes two identical men known for conning and conniving were trying toand boots. It went against military code for Starbuck to not be invited to a party, after all. In a universe of infinite mystery and surprise, of ever-changing and unfathomable enigmae, one thing remained constant, immutable, and unchanging. Starbuck equalled party! He quickly finger-combed his hair, pushing it back out of his eyes, as he headed for the corridor. An unnatural chill hit him in the hallway, and he paused, for some reason reluctant to go any further. Now, there was something definitely wrong when a haze hung over the corridor, like a cool evening mist in the Caprican hills. Still, what could only be "fiddle music" beckoned him onward. That and the sudden appearance of BA Baracus from a dense fog, his bizarre jewellery tinkling about his neck. "C'mon, Spaceman! We're waitin' on ya!" Just as mysteriously he turned, disappearing back into the swirling mist. Was mist supposed to swirl? Not on a Battlestar, he reckoned. Yeah, he was at the point where it wasto pound me into the ground!" Starbuck defended himself. "I acted proactively." "He didn't really mean it, Bucko." Murdock shrugged. "He threatens that at least once a day." "How was I supposed to know that? He looked damned sincere to me!" Starbuck protested. "Enough!" Hannibal yelled. "Are you from the Battlestar Galactica too?" he asked the older man. "The Senior's Ship actually. I think perhaps I may have caused a small problem." Chameleon apologized. "You see, I happened to be visiting my favourite little chancery and was getting a little low on my luck, when I saw Starbuck flying by on a winged equine, so of course I whistled for it to bring him over... which is no mean feat when you're zipping through a wormhole on a vortex- spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside, entangled with demons, horny priestesses and bald butlers, let me tell you. I mean, for a while, people thoug convince people who know them a little too well that they weren't who they appeared to be... The Starbuck Chronicles Part 77 Luscious. Athena closed her eyes letting the moment of purest ecstasy envelop her completely, infusing every part of her body. Oh Lords! Never had it been this good. Her flesh seemed to quake; even her two... Tasty... addictive... and utterly delectable. She moaned low in her throat as he teased her lips. "More..." she groaned. Face chuckled, "Chocolate or me, beautiful?" He was beyond caring at the moment as to how he had ended up on this... whatever it was... wherever he was. All that mattered was he was with one of the most alluring and provocative women he had ever met. If only she would stop calling him Starbuck. He pressed himself against her athletically slender body, which was stretched along the couch in her quarters, teasing her slightly open mouth with a sensual kiss before she opened her gorgeous blue eyes to sta time to pinch himself. Things could only go downhill from here. Abruptly, he jumped as someone did just that thing on his astrum. A swirl of petticoats over a full sky-blue gown dashed by, wrapped in a melodious giggle. Her wavy blonde hair was tied up with a fine ribbon, and her eyes shined with happiness. "Are you coming?" she teased, backing away towards the mist. She crooked a finger at him. "Cassiopeia..." he murmured, surprised by the strange dress. "Are you coming?" she repeated, her minxish smile becoming even more minxish. "Well...depends on the situation, Cassie," he grinned. "Katrina van Tassel," she replied with an alluring smile, as the fog swallowed her whole. "Are you coming, good sir..." her now distant voice beckoned him. "Oh, this really can't be happening," he muttered, as he followed. The bounty in the Council Chambers was stunning, as Starbuck entered cautiously. Cakes, pies, preserved fruits, pastries of every possible descripht I was related to Robert Wagner, and wanted to know where Ginger was. Well, about that time a large boom occurred, or maybe it was a boomer, I'm not certain. For no good reason, other than it suits the plotline, a man who looked very much like Starbuck appeared with the Cattle Futures and a currency draft for his team's retirement funds." He smiled at Hannibal. Hannibal winced, clearly not liking where he was going with this. "Well, we had a lovely evening gambling and drinking. Even went to a Chocolaterie. The boys got to know each other, and it turns out that Templeton... your Faceman... is descended from the Thirteenth Tribe of Kobol. Which pretty much means that at some point one of my ancestors jumped ship just before they decided to make the journey to Earth... he probably didn't have the fare, realistically, or he lost it in a card game." Chameleon shrugged. "Instead, he went to Caprica. Starbuck and Face are related. Amazing isn't it?" "All except for one thingre at him with equal parts confusion and desire. "Starbuck..." she murmured, shaking her head as if in a trance. She couldn't believe this had all started with him tantalizing her with a couple small squares of something he called chocolate. But then all of a sudden something had changed. Their shared laughter had stopped and he had leaned in slowly, watching every ensuing expression as he kissed every lip on her face. It wasn't the kind of kiss that should assault one's senses. It was gentle, explorative, hesitant. At first. As though he was merely testing the waters, unsure of her reaction. But somehow his hesitation had proved to be her undoing, when she realized he was waiting for her lead. Treating her like a precious flower he was afraid to crush... and that was just so... un-Starbuck. He looked like Starbuck, but there was something so... different about him. Something lacking the usual wheedling, conniving, con-artist...Something she didn't understand. Didn't tion, and all sorts of broiled, smoked and roasted meats were piled upon the tables, and everyone present was indulging as though it was their first or last meal. The ladies were clad similarly to Cassie, the older ones more severely with close crimped caps, long-waisted short-gowns, and gay calico pockets hanging on the outside. So that's what that looks like... The men were in short square-skirted coats, with rows of stupendous brass buttons, and their hair was generally queued in the fashion of the times that Dayton had relayed to them in his story. Yeah, he stuck out like a sore thumb. A few women pointed at him, and giggled as the musician continued to play his festive tune. Then a heavy hand clapped him on the shoulder and he turned. "Baltar!" Starbuck gasped. Almost without realizing it, he reached for the weapon he wasn't wearing. "Baltus van Tassel," Baltar smiled unctuously, grinning around the drink he was taking. "I understand you have designs on my daughter."." Starbuck inserted. "You said that one of your ancestors jumped ship, not one of my..." he trailed off, paling as he realized the significance of his words. "You mean, you really are my...?" Chameleon nodded briefly. "I've been trying to figure out a way to tell you for some time, but then you took off on these adventures, and I really haven't seen you since." "Ahhhh!" Murdock gushed. "Bucko, you have a family!" Starbuck simply stared at the man, struck dumb. "I hate to interrupt this tender scene," Hannibal remarked a trifle sarcastically, lighting a new stogie, "but how do you get back to the Galactica and how do we get Face back?" "I want my little brother back. This guy is a maniac!" BA snarled, from behind a bloody wad of gauze over his nose. "And our money!" added Amy. "After all, we gotta pay the Dominos...ah, maybe that's him now." "Did you find the pram?" Chameleon asked. "The pram?" "Yes, when Starbuckrecognize. And it wasn't the chocolate either. Maybe he wasn't Starbuck! "I'm not Starbuck." Face smiled at her faintly. Something about her compelled him to be honest. Hell, when was the last time that had happened when he stared into a woman's eyes? "You must have been hit harder on the head than we thought." She smiled. They had way too much history for this to happen. Come to think of it, there was way too much history with Cassie, Aurora, Miriam, Noday, Miri, the Empyreans,... She just wasn't willing to let him break her heart again. She reluctantly pulled back, pushing gently but firmly against his chest. "Athena, I'm being honest here. I'm really not Starbuck." He shook his head as if to emphasize the point. "I have no memory of this place before today. I don't even really know where I am or how I got here." He gently caressed her cheek as he spoke. Athena paused as she considered him. Starbuck was a master of deception, as many women, and no few pyram He turned to consider the beautiful young woman, who was now engaged in a conversation with... "Commander Cain!" Starbuck choked out. Then it hit him. Cassiopeia, Katrina. Baltar, Baltus. Cain, Crane. "Or is that Ichabod Crane?" Somehow the thought was reassuring. Or proof positive that he was either totally insane, or had accidentally taken some of Murdock's meds. Maybe both. Baltar laughed heartily. "You're Ichabod Crane, my young friend! Has the drink gone to your head already?" "Then he's..." "Brom Bones, in on his mighty Pegasus..." Starbuck shook his head. "I don't think the story went quite that way." "We do our best," Baltar shrugged. "On to the next scene!" "But what about where I get to dance with Cassiopeia?" "We'll take that scene as a given," Baltar replied. "Personally, I think it would put me off my broiled shad." How he came to be seated in a crew transport, slowly going through the tunnels that lead to the l and Face entered the Perambulator 500, the one Vela lost to you in a card game, they had a souped up little Silver Cross with the sun canopy..." "Fr...Chameleon, what the frack are you talking about?" Starbuck asked testily. "I think perhaps you had a few too many Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters, son." Chameleon shrugged. "You both climbed on her and rode her through the wormhole... but evidently Face somehow ended up on the Galactica in your body, and you ended up here in his." "Just who was this you rode through a wormhole?" asked Amy. "Oooh, Faceman. Maybe you should be talking to her. Or the law." "Hannibal!" Murdock called from the bedroom. "I've found the pram! It's in about eight different pieces." "Well, then, let's put her back together." Hannibal grinned. "After all, I love it when a pram comes together." WILL Starbuck be able to soup the Silver Cross back up and get back in the Perambulator 500? WHAT would the prize be forid players, could attest, but this really wasn't his style. His blue eyes didn't waver and the sincerity in his voice almost had her believing him. Almost. She sniffed, her lips turning up at a sudden realization. "For a guy who claims to not know where he is, or how he arrived here, you don't seem too upset about it." He dropped his eyes from hers, nodding and smiling almost self-deprecatingly. "Ahh." He reached for her hand, taking a moment to gently caress her fingers before raising them to his lips for a lingering kiss before again seeking her gaze. "Well... after I met you..." He shrugged almost apologetically. "It really didn't seem to matter anymore. I realize that probably sounds like a line... but it is true." She caught her breath as she realized that more than anything else in the universe, she wished it was so. She moved his hand from her face to...somewhere else. She also realized she wanted his baby!!!!!!!!!!!!!! "You do?" * * * * * "aunch bay, he just wasn't sure. And the riding crop in his hand...he shook his head, as he slowly travelled through the misty passages, wondering when the Commander had commissioned Carmichael on the Agro Ship to plant trees along the way. A gradual foreboding gripped him, as he remembered back to Dayton's story, as the Headless Horseman had slowly at first, and then more furiously, followed Ichabod on that terrifying ride through the Hollow. Abruptly he heard a noise behind him through the mist, and saw a second crew cart gaining on him steadily, but tortuously as his anxiety grew. A lone figure sat in the front, the darkness eclipsing his form, leaving Starbuck wondering what was stalking him. In the distance a bell rang, startling him from his reverie. "Next stop, Major Andre's Tree. All aboard!" The voice sounded...spooky, and a ghostly whistle blew. The crew cart clanked to a stop in the darkness, while the second cart drew up alongside. A heavy breath puffed in the winning? CAN he get back to the Galactica? WILL he take Chameleon with him? IS Athena going to share the Callebaut with friends, or will she keep it to herself? WHAT is she going to do with that negligee? WILL she take Face along, or dump him in favour of the chocolate? HOW did this story ever get so screwed up? For some putative answers to these and a whole bunch of other questions and stuff, don't miss the next satirically convoluted episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when you'll hear Chameleon say, "He dances like a Cylon... and I'm not talking about Cy, either." Or, if you are especially sinful and wicked, you MIGHT get to not hear the Butler Guy say, Extra pineapple on that, right? **************************** Martha Stewart Cleans up the Penal System will not be seen at this time. In its place we present the following examples of arrested development. When we last left our heroes two identical men known for conning and conniving were trying toAt least we know Face will be doing everything in his power to find his way back to Earth." Hannibal remarked as he sucked on his cigar. Amy tossed him a lighter, shaking her head. Starbuck hoped so, as he skeptically examined the souped-up pram, since these two way space corridors through time usually depended on both parties making some effort to get back to where they belonged. The A-Team members had reassembled the child-sized transport using everything at their disposal; plumbing fixtures, ceiling fans, parts from a VCR, a garberator, a ghetto blaster, duct tape, a clock- radio, thumbtacks, a toilet-paper roll, and just about everything they could haul out of an apartment sized washer/dryer. If only they had a vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside as part of the mix! "Doesn't look like an ion propulsion engine to me," the Lieutenant remarked as BA screwed the last screw in place. cold night air, and eerily Starbuck felt it blow against the nape of his neck. It was icy, tickling its way down his spine, and leaving him frozen to his seat. The lone dark figure leaned forward ominously, never saying a word, and Starbuck gasped in horror as he saw the vacuous space above the neck where the creature's head should have been. "Wait just a minute!" a voice inserted from the darkness. "The Headless Crew Cart Operator? Surely we can do better than this?" Dayton asked from off screen. "Take five. Smoke them if you've got them!" Murdock inserted. "Headless Hasari? Headless Hedgehopper? Headless....... "Headless nut in the VA, if you don't shut up, Murdock!" "I don't suppose a cream pie in the face would cheer you up, BA? It's always a crowd pleaser!" "Grrrr!!!!" "Yeah. Hey, Amy? We got any breadsticks left?" "I'll toast you up one!" "Hey! I got an idea! Action!" Starbuck startled, as the heaving breathing beside him suddenly convince people who know them a little too well that they weren't who they appeared to be... The Starbuck Chronicles Part 77 Luscious. Athena closed her eyes letting the moment of purest ecstasy envelop her completely, infusing every part of her body. Oh Lords! Never had it been this good. Her flesh seemed to quake; even her two... Tasty... addictive... and utterly delectable. She moaned low in her throat as he teased her lips. "More..." she groaned. Face chuckled, "Chocolate or me, beautiful?" He was beyond caring at the moment as to how he had ended up on this... whatever it was... wherever he was. All that mattered was he was with one of the most alluring and provocative women he had ever met. If only she would stop calling him Starbuck. He pressed himself against her athletically slender body, which was stretched along the couch in her quarters, teasing her slightly open mouth with a sensual kiss before she opened her gorgeous blue eyes to sta "Listen Sucka," said the huge man, getting to his feet, and turning to glare at the other, "I pity the fool who tries to overtake you in this baby! I pity the fool!" "Do you really, BA?" asked Murdoch, putting a pickle fork into his copy of Psychology Today to mark his place. "Do you indeed pity anyone?" "Shut-up, Fool!" snarled BA. "Quad erat demonstrandum, mon Colonial Viper pilot," said Murdoch, looking at Starbuck, before beginning to wash his toes. Starbuck quirked an eyebrow considering the seething landram before him. "Do you guys ever do anything to just... kick back and relax?" He motioned towards the vertical refrigeration unit. "Try one of those imported ales. Personally, I found that the Stella was refreshing. Light, yet flavorful. You really look like you're going to blow a turbine, pal." "I like milk! Don't have no use for alcohol!" snarled BA. "No use?" Starbuck chuckled. "I could think of a couple uses. I'm imagini changed in nature to that of a drone. He jumped to his feet, turning, to gaze on the Headless Toaster... "Cut! No that's not what exactly what I had in mind," Dayton walked back on set, waving his hands above his head. "C'mon people, let's get this right. Places everybody, and...action!" "Control freak," Starbuck murmured, as he sat back down. "I heard that, Frappuccino Frost!" Beside Starbuck in the other cart, the droning escalated in volume until the warrior could swear he could feel it become a part of him, racing through his veins. In horror B-movie slow motion, he turned to regard the form that was now artistically lit to reveal itself. The centurion sat beside him, holding its Cylon head on its lap, the optical processor still lit, scanning from side to side. Other than the droning, it remained silent, which was more eerie than he cared to let on. "Is...is the DVD set in there?" Starbuck asked nervously, as his hand lurched forward, slamming the control pre at him with equal parts confusion and desire. "Starbuck..." she murmured, shaking her head as if in a trance. She couldn't believe this had all started with him tantalizing her with a couple small squares of something he called chocolate. But then all of a sudden something had changed. Their shared laughter had stopped and he had leaned in slowly, watching every ensuing expression as he kissed every lip on her face. It wasn't the kind of kiss that should assault one's senses. It was gentle, explorative, hesitant. At first. As though he was merely testing the waters, unsure of her reaction. But somehow his hesitation had proved to be her undoing, when she realized he was waiting for her lead. Treating her like a precious flower he was afraid to crush... and that was just so... un-Starbuck. He looked like Starbuck, but there was something so... different about him. Something lacking the usual wheedling, conniving, con-artist...Something she didn't understand. Didn't ng you and about three bottles of Proteus Ambrosa..." "What's ambrosia? Isn't that that sour cream salad with little pieces of mandarin oranges and pineapple in it?" BA asked, suddenly interested. "Don't forget the marshmallows, Boomer," Murdock reminded him. "Coors is good, too, though. I like where you're going with this, Bucko. Relaxation through visualization. Dr. Richter would approve." "Right, marshmallows too. Go on, spaceman." BA encouraged Starbuck, ignoring the other. "Uh... well, okay. So you're sitting at a table on the Rising Star. The Astral Lounge. Nicest place in the fleet. Gorgeous view of the sanitation ship." He grinned. "What about my ambrosia?" the big man asked. "Yeah, yeah. You're surrounded by your ambrosa. Three bottles of the best... well, actually, if you don't usually drink, let's just say three bottles of ambrosa." The Colonial Warrior amended. Why waste good booze on a greenhorn? "Bottles?" BAanel, and launching the crew cart forward. He had to get to Alpha Bay. If he could just clear the launch bay, and make it to his Viper, he'd be okay. The Cylon would disappear in a flash of fire. There was a tug at his pant leg, and he looked down. A white card was slipped into his hand. It's worth a shot, kid. "Hey, where'd you come from?" he asked. Just get going! carded the Butler Guy. You think I have all day? I got a date at Blips! He couldn't remember such a wild ride through the Galactica before. The cart pitched and dived, careening around corners that he didn't remember being there before. He was forced to hang on for dear life when he was almost tossed out at a couple junctures. Behind him, he could hear the droning drawing closer and closer, as the Headless Centurion gained on him. Just a little bit further was all he needed...just a little bit... Abruptly, his cart cleared the access portal, screaming into Alpha Bay. Shaking like a leaf, he stumblrecognize. And it wasn't the chocolate either. Maybe he wasn't Starbuck! "I'm not Starbuck." Face smiled at her faintly. Something about her compelled him to be honest. Hell, when was the last time that had happened when he stared into a woman's eyes? "You must have been hit harder on the head than we thought." She smiled. They had way too much history for this to happen. Come to think of it, there was way too much history with Cassie, Aurora, Miriam, Noday, Miri, the Empyreans,... She just wasn't willing to let him break her heart again. She reluctantly pulled back, pushing gently but firmly against his chest. "Athena, I'm being honest here. I'm really not Starbuck." He shook his head as if to emphasize the point. "I have no memory of this place before today. I don't even really know where I am or how I got here." He gently caressed her cheek as he spoke. Athena paused as she considered him. Starbuck was a master of deception, as many women, and no few pyram asked. "I don't want bottles, man. I want those nice parfait glasses. Etched in Rosepoint. With a maraschino cherry on top of each one." "Nice, BA." Hannibal inserted, running his hands over the fine lines of the Silver Cross. It would be just what they needed to win the Perambulator 500-if it held together once Starbuck engaged the ion propulsion engine... and Face did his part on the other side. "Sure." Starbuck shrugged. "So there you are with your ambrosa and in walks this beautiful woman. Skin like jamocha...." "What's jamocha?" BA barked. "Coffee ice cream, Boom-Boom." Murdock inserted, admiring his nails. "Jamocha almond fudge. One of my favourites. Can you see it, big guy?" "Oh. Okay then." BA nodded. "Do you ever just go with the flow, BA?" Starbuck asked, shaking his head in bemusement. "Only in combat, spaceman." "You take up a lot more space than me, pal." Starbuck returned. BA chortled in inexpled from the cart, turning to stare in horror at the crew cart racing towards him, and the Headless Centurion baring down on him. It rose up, lifting its head high about its shoulder, getting ready to fling it at the warrior... Turning, he staggered towards his Viper, hearing the creature in pursuit. The terror was mind-numbing, his heart pounding against his chest, as he raced towards a munitions locker, tearing around a corner, and coming to a stunned and abrupt stop...to find the A-team along with Dayton, Apollo and Boomer standing before him. "I told ya we'd come to rescue ya, little brother," BA smiled a rare smile at him. "We've got your six, kid," Dayton nodded, tossing him a Colonial laser. Letting out a breath of relief, Starbuck joined the men in the line, as they stood to face down the Headless Centurion. Around the corner it came, its Cylon head in one hand, and a pulse-rifle in the other. Its optical sensor locked on target, as it took aim on Starbuck. Eighid players, could attest, but this really wasn't his style. His blue eyes didn't waver and the sincerity in his voice almost had her believing him. Almost. She sniffed, her lips turning up at a sudden realization. "For a guy who claims to not know where he is, or how he arrived here, you don't seem too upset about it." He dropped his eyes from hers, nodding and smiling almost self-deprecatingly. "Ahh." He reached for her hand, taking a moment to gently caress her fingers before raising them to his lips for a lingering kiss before again seeking her gaze. "Well... after I met you..." He shrugged almost apologetically. "It really didn't seem to matter anymore. I realize that probably sounds like a line... but it is true." She caught her breath as she realized that more than anything else in the universe, she wished it was so. She moved his hand from her face to...somewhere else. She also realized she wanted his baby!!!!!!!!!!!!!! "You do?" * * * * * "icable amusement. Starbuck nearly fell over for no adequately explored reason. Think of it as a plot device. Or a gravity shift. Or the previous dizziness from a couple eps ago. "Go on, Bucko. This is doing him more good than you could ever imagine." Murdock encouraged, pulling out a brilliant shade of metallic Spitfire silver nail polish and languidly stroking it onto his toe nails. Starbuck shook his head to regroup, the fumes from the nail polish were getting to him. "Okay, so skin like jamocha; long, flowing hair that your fingers are just aching to run through; eyes that you could lose yourself in...well, for a centar or two anyhow..." "Hey, he's starting to sound like Face." Hannibal added with a grin from around his cigar. "I thought he was sounding a lot like Banacek," said Amy, snuggling on Chameleon's lap. "Get out of my fantasy, you two!" BA barked. "Next thing I know, you'll be ordering me to rebuild a transmission, and it'll bt Colonial lasers answered its challenge, tearing through it, until it disappeared in a flash of fire, the smoking, sparking, smouldering, charred, melted, and of course detached head dropping to the floor. From out of nowhere, beautiful Katrina van Tassel threw herself into his arms, exclaiming excitedly, "Oh, you brave, brave man!" "Well done, my boy," Baltus van Tassel clapped him on the shoulder. Starbuck grinned, glancing back at Dayton. "This wasn't how it was supposed to end, Dayton." Dayton grinned, putting an arm around Hannibal. "You got to love it when a Starbuck Chronicle comes together, Espresso Macchiato." WHAT in the name of ALL the Lords of Kobol is going on? HOW has Starbuck ended up in this chamber of horrors? WILL he be able to go on patrol? WHATEVER happened to Siress Belloby's Mistress Plan, a ways back? IS Chameleon still cuddling somewhere with Amy? WHY do we keep assaulting you with these things? DO you even care? For the answers e Faceman sitting there with my woman!" He snarled at Starbuck. "If you were thinking of a General Motors Type- 200 automatic," said Murdock, snipping holes in his socks for his newly-cleaned and painted toes, "the station wagon at the asylum could use some work." "I'm not Faceman." Starbuck reminded BA. "And where in Hades Hole did he get a name like that anyhow? His parents weren't fond of him, huh?" "He ain't got no parents, Sucka! It's what we call him. His family. Besides, Starbuck isn't exactly on the top forty baby names around these parts either." "Imagine that." The Warrior replied nonchalantly. "So... she asks you to dance. You can dance, can't you?" "Does he look like Fred Astaire to you?" Chameleon replied wryly. He turned to Amy, and said quietly; "I wouldn't wear a tophat, if I were him." "I agree," Amy nodded back, "unless he can find one in a camouflage print. Then he might just be able to pull it off." "I do At least we know Face will be doing everything in his power to find his way back to Earth." Hannibal remarked as he sucked on his cigar. Amy tossed him a lighter, shaking her head. Starbuck hoped so, as he skeptically examined the souped-up pram, since these two way space corridors through time usually depended on both parties making some effort to get back to where they belonged. The A-Team members had reassembled the child-sized transport using everything at their disposal; plumbing fixtures, ceiling fans, parts from a VCR, a garberator, a ghetto blaster, duct tape, a clock- radio, thumbtacks, a toilet-paper roll, and just about everything they could haul out of an apartment sized washer/dryer. If only they had a vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el-mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside as part of the mix! "Doesn't look like an ion propulsion engine to me," the Lieutenant remarked as BA screwed the last screw in place. to whichever of these questions we feel motivated to answer, don't miss the next simplistically challenged, circumlocutivally delusional episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear Borax (Korax's lesser-known younger brother) say: "I'm gonna go find that surfboard, and see what Belloby's up to." We interrupt this inconclusive conclusion of the Starbuck Chronicles to bring you: The Epilogue By Eugenia: With Katrina in his arms, Starbuck relaxed, thanking the Lords of Kobol that some normalcy had return. He looked down at her sparkling blue eyes and beautiful smile that was only for him. Noticing his eager regard, she giggled and then it hit him. "Oh. No. No, no, no..." Starbuck stuttered in horror, drawing back from her. "What?" Katrina pouted, in that winsome way that always left him helpless to her charms. "Don't you fancy me?" "No...I mean, yes, yes, I do." "Ahhh..." The silky smooth voice came from behind him. "Rehearsing for theokay. I can slow dance." BA replied indignantly to the Warrior, ignoring the others. "Anyone can slow dance, Boomer." Murdock inserted. "Stop calling me that, crazy man!" "So she asks you to dance." Starbuck reiterated. "After finishing your ambrosa, you rise, take her hand... and lead her to the dance floor. She leans in really close. You can feel every intimate detail of her taut, sensuous body as she presses against you." BA flushed. "I think I can take it from there." "I've heard enough as well." Chameleon adds, shaking off the mental image. "After all, he dances like a Cylon... and I'm not talking about Cy, either." He eyed his son, who had been avoiding his glance ever since the old conman had disclosed that he was Starbuck's father. This was hardly the place to have a heart to heart with Starbuck, but he was a little hurt that the boy didn't even seem interested in raising the subject. "What's a Cylon, man?" "Kind of like "Listen Sucka," said the huge man, getting to his feet, and turning to glare at the other, "I pity the fool who tries to overtake you in this baby! I pity the fool!" "Do you really, BA?" asked Murdoch, putting a pickle fork into his copy of Psychology Today to mark his place. "Do you indeed pity anyone?" "Shut-up, Fool!" snarled BA. "Quad erat demonstrandum, mon Colonial Viper pilot," said Murdoch, looking at Starbuck, before beginning to wash his toes. Starbuck quirked an eyebrow considering the seething landram before him. "Do you guys ever do anything to just... kick back and relax?" He motioned towards the vertical refrigeration unit. "Try one of those imported ales. Personally, I found that the Stella was refreshing. Light, yet flavorful. You really look like you're going to blow a turbine, pal." "I like milk! Don't have no use for alcohol!" snarled BA. "No use?" Starbuck chuckled. "I could think of a couple uses. I'm imagini inevitable ceremony, are we?" Baltus slid his arm around Starbuck's shoulders, pulling the warrior in towards him. He took another drink from his glass, his dark eyes glittering in amusement over the rim. Baltus lowered his glass, giving Starbuck a wide smile. "I shall, of course, provide my daughter with a sumptuous wedding, my /son/." By Lisa: "AARRGGHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Starbuck screamed. TRAPPED in a nightmare that he can't escape from, WHAT will our hero do next? "Long-range patrol is beginning to look good..." Starbuck murmured, heading towards his Viper. By Robert: Part 93c Starbuck headed out into the corridor, double-timing his strides. It's not that he didn't want to get to know Katrina - very well. They never seemed to be rid of Baltar, er Baltus. Whether they had him stuck in the prison barge, released to a planet, or sentenced him to spend the rest of his life mining on Rura Penthe, he continued to return. And now?!? a washer/dryer/garberator on legs, with a serious attitude problem. No ceiling fan though." Starbuck summarized as he leaned over the pram once again, holding onto his indifferent facade by a thread. Cassie had obviously lied to him about the genetic testing... unless Chameleon was lying to him now. What the frack was going on? "Are you sure this thing will run?" "Of course. What are you? Chicken?" BA taunted him. "Caprican." Starbuck shrugged. "So how do we get to the parallel universe to start the race?" "Well, if you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire... the A-Team." Hannibal returned, lighting up again. "Yeah, especially since you and Face lost all the retirement funds gambling in that other dimension." Amy crossed her arms. "I had to give Domino's my credit card number." "Uh... what do you mean if you can find them? You guys are them... aren't you?" Starbuck stammered in confusion. ng you and about three bottles of Proteus Ambrosa..." "What's ambrosia? Isn't that that sour cream salad with little pieces of mandarin oranges and pineapple in it?" BA asked, suddenly interested. "Don't forget the marshmallows, Boomer," Murdock reminded him. "Coors is good, too, though. I like where you're going with this, Bucko. Relaxation through visualization. Dr. Richter would approve." "Right, marshmallows too. Go on, spaceman." BA encouraged Starbuck, ignoring the other. "Uh... well, okay. So you're sitting at a table on the Rising Star. The Astral Lounge. Nicest place in the fleet. Gorgeous view of the sanitation ship." He grinned. "What about my ambrosia?" the big man asked. "Yeah, yeah. You're surrounded by your ambrosa. Three bottles of the best... well, actually, if you don't usually drink, let's just say three bottles of ambrosa." The Colonial Warrior amended. Why waste good booze on a greenhorn? "Bottles?" BA!? And now this charming, beautiful, elegant, mysterious, mesmerizing woman was in his arms only to be....to be linked to Baltus. ARRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!!! There was a clip clop behind Starbuck. He didn't notice it at first. His mind was too focused on how he would find himself a way out of another fine mess he had gotten himself into with a magical woman. The clip clop's increased in speed and intensity. When they were almost on top of him, he finally noticed and instinctively turned around in defensive mode only to be ambushed by... "Starbuck!!!!" Katrina cried out in joy, embracing him in his open arms. She kicked off her high heel shoes, one with a broken heel that had caused the clops. It took a few microns for Starbuck to realize what happened, but relaxed enough to wrap his arms around her. "Take me with you," she whispered in his ear. "I can't. I'm heading to my viper." "I'll go with you." She nipped his ear. "It only seats one." "I'll sit "My dear Lieutenant, Hannibal is simply quoting a well known line from our press agent." Murdock elaborated. "Are you actually going to charge me to get back home?" Starbuck asked. "Not if you can get our funds back." Hannibal conceded. Starbuck sighed. "I'll work something out. If you have to, you can garnishee my wages." "With parsley." Murdock asked. "And a wedge of orange? Always nice to mix colours and textures." "I don't know about in your star system, but in this one a Lieutenant doesn't exactly get rich on a year's salary." Hannibal remarked. "Why'd you think I offered?" Starbuck grinned in response. "Okay, so how do we find a wormhole to the Perambulator 500 and the Interdimensional Chancery?" "Does Steve Wynn own that one too?" Hannibal asked Chameleon. "In partnership with Fausto from the Rising Star." The older man returned. "But the Nomen get a cut." "I see." Hannibal nodded. "Well, as soon as we asked. "I don't want bottles, man. I want those nice parfait glasses. Etched in Rosepoint. With a maraschino cherry on top of each one." "Nice, BA." Hannibal inserted, running his hands over the fine lines of the Silver Cross. It would be just what they needed to win the Perambulator 500-if it held together once Starbuck engaged the ion propulsion engine... and Face did his part on the other side. "Sure." Starbuck shrugged. "So there you are with your ambrosa and in walks this beautiful woman. Skin like jamocha...." "What's jamocha?" BA barked. "Coffee ice cream, Boom-Boom." Murdock inserted, admiring his nails. "Jamocha almond fudge. One of my favourites. Can you see it, big guy?" "Oh. Okay then." BA nodded. "Do you ever just go with the flow, BA?" Starbuck asked, shaking his head in bemusement. "Only in combat, spaceman." "You take up a lot more space than me, pal." Starbuck returned. BA chortled in inexplon your lap." She nipped the side of his neck. "Yeah, well ah, there's not quite enough room to fit two people in there, enticing as it may sound." Out of her peripheral, she saw a door. Katrina pulled away only far enough to point it out to him. "What's in there?" "Oh, you don't want to go in there. It's dark, and probably dirty. It's a storage closet." Katrina grabbed his hand in hers with a strong grip and pulled him to the door. She pressed the button beside it to open the door. The lights were out. She didn't care. She pulled him in behind her. The door slid shut, leaving them in total darkness. "Sir?" Omega looked back at Tigh. "What is it?" "The red alert klaxon has gone ka-pluey." "Ka-Pluey? What kind of proper phraseology is that?" Omega shrugged. "That was the precise word from Technician Waldor. Something is in the heart in the klaxon system, basically disabling it." Tigh shook his head and murmured, "That's all we find some wheels..." "Wheels?" shouted BA. "What about my van, man?" "Repossessed." Hannibal informed him regrettably. "They got it when I was still in costume down at the studio." "Studio?" asked Fre....Chameleon. "Yup. We're finishing up on Son of Aquamanic VI: Tsunami Of Death." "Sounds...artistic." "Oh yeah. Sky's the limit." "Face's Vette in still in the garage." Murdock informed them, after a quick check. "Hmm. Must have paid cash." Hannibal shrugged. Leave it to the conman. "Okay, everyone into the Vette. It's gonna be a bit tight, but we have to get to Nevada." "Las Vegas?" asked Chemeleon. "No, Area 51. I have it on good authority from Frank Herbert that they have a wormhole there." Hannibal informed them. "This should spice things up," said Amy. IS there truly a wormhole in Area 51? HOW can you get six adults into a two seater Vette? WILL Face want to remain on the Galactica sicable amusement. Starbuck nearly fell over for no adequately explored reason. Think of it as a plot device. Or a gravity shift. Or the previous dizziness from a couple eps ago. "Go on, Bucko. This is doing him more good than you could ever imagine." Murdock encouraged, pulling out a brilliant shade of metallic Spitfire silver nail polish and languidly stroking it onto his toe nails. Starbuck shook his head to regroup, the fumes from the nail polish were getting to him. "Okay, so skin like jamocha; long, flowing hair that your fingers are just aching to run through; eyes that you could lose yourself in...well, for a centar or two anyhow..." "Hey, he's starting to sound like Face." Hannibal added with a grin from around his cigar. "I thought he was sounding a lot like Banacek," said Amy, snuggling on Chameleon's lap. "Get out of my fantasy, you two!" BA barked. "Next thing I know, you'll be ordering me to rebuild a transmission, and it'll b need. What else could go wrong?" "Sir?" "Yes?" "Long range patrol zeta is reporting they think they have come across a fleet of Cylon Raiders in Quadrant Tau T'Pau. If there's the basestar we've been chasing, or another one, it's not on their scanners." "Great! How long until they return?" "Too long, sir. They are requesting backup." "Yes, yes, of course. Sound red alert. Get Blue Squadron ready and Red Squadron on Stand-by. Alert Adama." "Sir?" "What is it now, Omega?" The bridge officer was almost afraid to remind him. "Sir, the red alert klaxon is out." "Oh, yes," Tigh exhaled. "You just did tell me that. I'm sorry, Omega. It was an automatic response. We have to alert them somehow." Omega noticed the little device attached to Tigh's belt. "Sir? If I may? You can twit them with the new tweeter twitter. Dr. Wilker may not have thought of red alert instances, but it will at least alert the warriors." "I shall two Athena can have his baby? IS he going to remain long enough for her to? WHAT will happen to Starbuck if Face doesn't enter the wormhole at the crucial moment? OR, what if he DOES enter...at the crucial moment? HOW did there get to be a crucial moment? WHAT if we missed it while we were writing and posting this story?? Oh, Lords, I can't take the stress of it all... where's the chocolate?? For the answers to these, and several other high- glucose content questions, don't miss the next cohesionally challenged episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll here Athena say... "A little to the left. Oh...yessss..right there!" ======= Around the World in 80 Days will not be seen at this time, because we don't have the time. In its place, we present the following short piece because sometimes it's about the time you make, not the time you take. Without further adon't, we present the Starbuck Chronicles-Part 78. "Hey!" "What happened? The lights.e Faceman sitting there with my woman!" He snarled at Starbuck. "If you were thinking of a General Motors Type- 200 automatic," said Murdock, snipping holes in his socks for his newly-cleaned and painted toes, "the station wagon at the asylum could use some work." "I'm not Faceman." Starbuck reminded BA. "And where in Hades Hole did he get a name like that anyhow? His parents weren't fond of him, huh?" "He ain't got no parents, Sucka! It's what we call him. His family. Besides, Starbuck isn't exactly on the top forty baby names around these parts either." "Imagine that." The Warrior replied nonchalantly. "So... she asks you to dance. You can dance, can't you?" "Does he look like Fred Astaire to you?" Chameleon replied wryly. He turned to Amy, and said quietly; "I wouldn't wear a tophat, if I were him." "I agree," Amy nodded back, "unless he can find one in a camouflage print. Then he might just be able to pull it off." "I do it them then." Tigh grabbed the tweeter twitter and began to type the twits. "Starbuck?" Katrina whispered. "Katrina." "You are even more sexy in the dark." Starbuck's tweeter twitter vibrated. Another piece of electronic felgercarb he had to carry on his attire. It was better to just waggle the wings. He ignored it. It vibrated again. "Oh Starbuck!! That feels good whatever it is." The kisses ensued. Starbuck ignored whatever twit was coming through. It wasn't that important. Five centons later, Omega received reports from Launch Bay Beta. "Sir, all of Blue Squadron is in their vipers and ready to launch except one warrior." "Who is that ONE warrior?!?" Omega didn't like to be the bearer of bad news. He had already given his commanding officer too much on this cycle. He did have an order to respond to. "Sir, it's, ah, Starbuck, sir." "Starbuck! I should have known. I'll tweet him a good one." Tigh grabbed his device with .." "Oh hell. Larson forget to pay the light bill again?" Starbuck muttered, wondering why he had to get sandwiched between the big, angry guy and the nutbar, instead of being thrust into the attractive, dark-haired beauty carrying the flatbread with Vela-veeta (who knew the marketing would make it so far, so fast?), nightshade sauce, and several interesting `toppings' as though it was some kind of precious, yet edible, object d'art. "Wrong producer, Lieutenant. Cannell is responsible for the electricity on this end." The Colonel informed him for continuity. "I dunno, Hannibal. It's dark, sure, but sometimes I like to close my eyes and allow myself to be surrounded by darkness. It can be almost comforting, like a soft, velvety blanket.Yet, at the same time, it can either bring peaceful solitude," Murdock paused dramatically before raising his voice, "or the foulest deliverance of our worst nightmares." He returned to his usual relaxed air. "Still, it has a sort of...ambianokay. I can slow dance." BA replied indignantly to the Warrior, ignoring the others. "Anyone can slow dance, Boomer." Murdock inserted. "Stop calling me that, crazy man!" "So she asks you to dance." Starbuck reiterated. "After finishing your ambrosa, you rise, take her hand... and lead her to the dance floor. She leans in really close. You can feel every intimate detail of her taut, sensuous body as she presses against you." BA flushed. "I think I can take it from there." "I've heard enough as well." Chameleon adds, shaking off the mental image. "After all, he dances like a Cylon... and I'm not talking about Cy, either." He eyed his son, who had been avoiding his glance ever since the old conman had disclosed that he was Starbuck's father. This was hardly the place to have a heart to heart with Starbuck, but he was a little hurt that the boy didn't even seem interested in raising the subject. "What's a Cylon, man?" "Kind of likea death grip and punched the keys with excessive force. More vibrations ensued. A song began by the Caprica Boys. I, I love the colourful clothes she wears And the way the sunlight plays upon her hair I hear the sound of a gentle word On the wind that lifts her perfume through the air. I'm pickin' up good vibrations The cuddling continued. "Why is he not responding?!?!?" Tigh was angry. Starbuck, the normally good warrior, was beginning to slip. Granted, times had been tough recently for the whole fleet, including for the warriors. But this was not time to not respond. Tigh asked the computer, "Where is Starbuck?" The computer only bleeped and blipped. It was not equipped with Roddenberry audio detection and respond units. For Wilke to concoct something like that would take yahrens. "Omega, send a command to Muffit to find Starbuck." "Muffit is temporarily disabled while Dr. Wilker repairs some shorted circe. Don't you think?" "Think? Since when did you ever think, Fool?" BA growled as he peeled Starbuck off his back and pushed him backwards. "Well, B.A., it's sort of comforting. Reminds me of the time I had my first electroshock treatment, the one with the really sexy nurse, and the grid went down." Murdock replied, catching the flailing Lieutenant and setting him back on his feet. "It would, Fool!" "I think it's sort of...cozy, really." "Hey, get your hand off my astrum," Starbuck snapped. "Getting a bit too cozy for my taste, pal." "Sorry, Bucko." Murdock apologized. "Colonel's orders. Had to frisk you for the ole mucho missing dinero, muchacho." "Amy, what are you doing?" "Oh, that isn't your wallet, Cham?" "Watch yourself, son." Chameleon warned him. "They'll stop at nothing to get their retirement funds back. And they seem to do things a little differently in the eighties." "Here we are. The stairs to the garage." "Great, Hann a washer/dryer/garberator on legs, with a serious attitude problem. No ceiling fan though." Starbuck summarized as he leaned over the pram once again, holding onto his indifferent facade by a thread. Cassie had obviously lied to him about the genetic testing... unless Chameleon was lying to him now. What the frack was going on? "Are you sure this thing will run?" "Of course. What are you? Chicken?" BA taunted him. "Caprican." Starbuck shrugged. "So how do we get to the parallel universe to start the race?" "Well, if you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire... the A-Team." Hannibal returned, lighting up again. "Yeah, especially since you and Face lost all the retirement funds gambling in that other dimension." Amy crossed her arms. "I had to give Domino's my credit card number." "Uh... what do you mean if you can find them? You guys are them... aren't you?" Starbuck stammered in confusion. cuits." "Cassiopea?" "Prepping the Life Station Trauma center." Tigh noticed Athena was too busy doing....whatever it was that she did at the bridge station. "Fine! I'll go get him myself. And when I find him......" Tigh stormed off the bridge at a quick pave. As he began his search, he asked everyone he passed about Starbuck while not slowing his steps. He went down the lift, through the Officer's Lounge, through the mess hall, through the bunks. A janitor, who was scrubbing the deck in the latrine, told Tigh how there were noises in Storage Locker 3-Gamma when he went to restock some cleaning supplies. The door was locked so he went to 4-Gamma instead. "Thank you," Tigh said as he changed direction to head straight to 3-Gamma. When he arrived, he pressed the button which unlocked immediately based on Tigh's fingerprint. As corridor light poured into the darkness, Tigh found Starbuck, with an opened tunic...and an open mouth in surprise, in the arms of a womibal, we can...AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!" CRASH. TUMBLE. "OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!" "Outta my face, Fool!" "Face? But he's..." "SHUDDUP!!!" "Where my top hat?" Meanwhile... "What happened? We run out of tylium again?" "I think Larson forgot to pay the bill again." "Imagine that!" "Any flashlights around here?" "Coming up, Mister Director. Oh, here they are." Click. "Ah!" I can see again. "A little to the left. Oh...yessss..right there!" "Oooh, sounds good!" "Watch it, Benedict! There's not enough chocolate in the world, bub!" "But it's Belgian!" "You never give up trying, do you?" "I'm trying. Ooooh, I'm trying!" WHAT has happened? WHY did all the lights go out? DID Larson forget to pay the bill again? Or was it Cannell? WAS anyone hurt in the garage? HOPE not, since they didn't actually make it into the garage. WHAT is Benedict trying to do to you-know-who? DO you know wh "My dear Lieutenant, Hannibal is simply quoting a well known line from our press agent." Murdock elaborated. "Are you actually going to charge me to get back home?" Starbuck asked. "Not if you can get our funds back." Hannibal conceded. Starbuck sighed. "I'll work something out. If you have to, you can garnishee my wages." "With parsley." Murdock asked. "And a wedge of orange? Always nice to mix colours and textures." "I don't know about in your star system, but in this one a Lieutenant doesn't exactly get rich on a year's salary." Hannibal remarked. "Why'd you think I offered?" Starbuck grinned in response. "Okay, so how do we find a wormhole to the Perambulator 500 and the Interdimensional Chancery?" "Does Steve Wynn own that one too?" Hannibal asked Chameleon. "In partnership with Fausto from the Rising Star." The older man returned. "But the Nomen get a cut." "I see." Hannibal nodded. "Well, as soon as we an, who's mouth was also open in surprise. They were so shocked in fact....... --- How shocked were they? --- They were so shocked, they were unable to say a word, or even mumble a syllable. Tigh stormed into the closet. The door shut. Thirty microns later, it reopened. Starbuck sailed through the air and landed hard on the deck. A visible black boot in the air in the doorway prevented the door from closing. That black boot stomped down onto the ground. Tigh, redder than all Hades, asked Starbuck why he did respond to the tweeted twit. Starbuck didn't recall when the last time was when he saw Commander Tigh so angry. He knew better though to not make the situation any worse. "My twitter tweeted. I tawt I taw a putty tat. I did! I did! I did see a putty tat and it ate my tweet before disappearing into this closet. I followed it in only to find this helpless lady, who, ah, was ambushed and thrown in the closet. I had to help her, but the putty tat got her tongueo? WHY is that one sentence in italics? Does anyone care? For the answers to these and maybe a few less questions, don't forget to catch the next barbecue sauce and basil leaf deficient episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear Ronald D. Moore say, "I never imagined the power could cost so much. Uh, Lorne? How are those cattle futures coming?" ======= Masterpiece Theater Buries Alistair Cooke will not be seen at this time. In its place we present the following rotten program. The Starbuck Chronicles Part 79 It was the first time in 79 episodes that he was completely alone. No chasing bad guys, no battling maniacally laughing demons, no dancing for lecherous women, no looking for Boxey in disreputable arcades, no sister's undies, and no playing second fiddle to Starbuck in those damn chronicles that he had been swept into against his will. Yeah, just Apollo in a dank little bar that he didn't even know existed on one of the lower decks of the Galact find some wheels..." "Wheels?" shouted BA. "What about my van, man?" "Repossessed." Hannibal informed him regrettably. "They got it when I was still in costume down at the studio." "Studio?" asked Fre....Chameleon. "Yup. We're finishing up on Son of Aquamanic VI: Tsunami Of Death." "Sounds...artistic." "Oh yeah. Sky's the limit." "Face's Vette in still in the garage." Murdock informed them, after a quick check. "Hmm. Must have paid cash." Hannibal shrugged. Leave it to the conman. "Okay, everyone into the Vette. It's gonna be a bit tight, but we have to get to Nevada." "Las Vegas?" asked Chemeleon. "No, Area 51. I have it on good authority from Frank Herbert that they have a wormhole there." Hannibal informed them. "This should spice things up," said Amy. IS there truly a wormhole in Area 51? HOW can you get six adults into a two seater Vette? WILL Face want to remain on the Galactica s. I, um, examined her and was about to help her to Life Station. I guess I'll have to go out twick or tweeting to get the twits." Tigh took another stomp towards the lieutenant. His eyes were flaming red. The door closed behind Tigh. Katrina was still in the dark closet. Starbuck quickly stood and ran faster than he could down the corridor to get to his viper. Tigh began to chase after Starbuck. Starbuck was going to get it from Tigh before he launched. As Starbuck ran down the various corridors, the sound of clip clops began again. It didn't matter how fast he ran, they became louder and louder. The Headless Red-Eye, dents and all in his metal, appeared behind Starbuck in hot pursuit. He was out to get revenge on he who blasted him. Starbuck turned and saw the Headless Red-Eye. It surely wasn't the one in the production he was in a centar ago in the original Part 93. Starbuck tried to run faster. "Let Tigh and his red hot anger deal with the headless scrap of tinica. When he had first walked through the wing doors, the dim, almost negligible (and quite stygian), lighting had seemed like a comforting blanket of obscurity. No one would recognize him there, because they simply couldn't see him. He had sat at the bar and ordered the house brew, not even caring what it was, as long as it was cold and strong. He was barely aware of the lone figure sitting a couple seats away as he sipped, until the man spoke to him. Or perhaps it was to another seated on his opposite side. He turned and looked. Aside from a plant in serious need of water and sunshine, there was no one. "Evil isn't all it's cracked up to be." Silence hung at the bar, and after it finally stopped kicking, a few patrons moved to the booths. Apollo peered closely at the man, certain he had heard the voice before, but his lethargy as well as his inherent disinterest in the moment had him shaking his head in indifference and taking another long draught of his brew. "o Athena can have his baby? IS he going to remain long enough for her to? WHAT will happen to Starbuck if Face doesn't enter the wormhole at the crucial moment? OR, what if he DOES enter...at the crucial moment? HOW did there get to be a crucial moment? WHAT if we missed it while we were writing and posting this story?? Oh, Lords, I can't take the stress of it all... where's the chocolate?? For the answers to these, and several other high- glucose content questions, don't miss the next cohesionally challenged episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll here Athena say... "A little to the left. Oh...yessss..right there!" ======= Around the World in 80 Days will not be seen at this time, because we don't have the time. In its place, we present the following short piece because sometimes it's about the time you make, not the time you take. Without further adon't, we present the Starbuck Chronicles-Part 78. "Hey!" "What happened? The lights.." The Headless Red-eye kicked his heels into the equine. The equine's speed increased. Tigh, even though he didn't see what was chasing after Starbuck...at least not yet...was not far behind the equine and the Headless Red-eye. ========== March 17, 2010 When we last left our heroes they were running away from galloping Headless Red-Eyes through the lesser known corridors of the Galactica...well, what can we say, continuity is overrated and the writers reserve the right to go off on unexpected tangents. Where's everyone else? The A-Team? Mrs. Peel? The Butler Guy? Dunno. After all, this is The Starbuck Chronicles. The Starbuck Chronicles Part 94 It was an exciting idea, resurrecting within the Fleet the United Games that were once held in the Twelve Worlds every four yahrens, invoking a spirit of sportsmanship and friendly competition between each of the Colonies, despite the fact that they had long been unified in a war against the Cylons. "Now, Apollo, StarbOh, sure it can be glamorous, but beneath all the fire and brimstone, it's lonely. Damn lonely." The man shuffled off his bar stool and moved to a raised stage, sitting on the small stool and grabbing the microphone that had rested there. He paused, taking a drink from his glass before dusting off his bowler, adjusting his carnation, and looking out over the room, his eyes glowing red for a micron. "Lonely. I'm mister lonely. I have nobody for my own. I am so lonely, I'm Mr. Lonely, Wish I had someone to call on the telecom. Now I'm a soldier, a lonely soldier, Away from home through no wish of my own. That's why I'm lonely, I'm Mr. Lonely, I wish that I could go back home." ** Apollo glanced around, feeling as though he was a character in a Fellini Holovid. The plant was ignoring him, as was Silence, and he turned back to his drink. He sighed loudly, as his gaze wandered back to the main attraction. The entertainer finished his short song and downed the rest of his drink, .." "Oh hell. Larson forget to pay the light bill again?" Starbuck muttered, wondering why he had to get sandwiched between the big, angry guy and the nutbar, instead of being thrust into the attractive, dark-haired beauty carrying the flatbread with Vela-veeta (who knew the marketing would make it so far, so fast?), nightshade sauce, and several interesting `toppings' as though it was some kind of precious, yet edible, object d'art. "Wrong producer, Lieutenant. Cannell is responsible for the electricity on this end." The Colonel informed him for continuity. "I dunno, Hannibal. It's dark, sure, but sometimes I like to close my eyes and allow myself to be surrounded by darkness. It can be almost comforting, like a soft, velvety blanket.Yet, at the same time, it can either bring peaceful solitude," Murdock paused dramatically before raising his voice, "or the foulest deliverance of our worst nightmares." He returned to his usual relaxed air. "Still, it has a sort of...ambianthrowing the glass against the wall and watching it shatter into a million shards of spectacular light that burst outward briefly lighting the space. "You know, half of you lot are afraid of me," Again his eyes glowed red, and his form shifted demonically as though his alter ego was trying to make itself known. "...and the other half wonder what it would be like to be me." He raised his glass to the crowd and saluted them, "Community drink." Apollo couldn't help but join the other patrons as he tipped his glass and tasted the cold brew. He watched with interest as a server approached the daemon and handed him a drink, while pointing out the generous contributor. The daemon nodded politely and took a sip. "The nectar of Diabolis himself." His even white teeth glinted in the dim light. "How frightfully delicious. Thank you, my dear. I'll be taking souls backstage after the show." * * * * * At first it had seemed the very stuff of the great romance movies. Meetingce. Don't you think?" "Think? Since when did you ever think, Fool?" BA growled as he peeled Starbuck off his back and pushed him backwards. "Well, B.A., it's sort of comforting. Reminds me of the time I had my first electroshock treatment, the one with the really sexy nurse, and the grid went down." Murdock replied, catching the flailing Lieutenant and setting him back on his feet. "It would, Fool!" "I think it's sort of...cozy, really." "Hey, get your hand off my astrum," Starbuck snapped. "Getting a bit too cozy for my taste, pal." "Sorry, Bucko." Murdock apologized. "Colonel's orders. Had to frisk you for the ole mucho missing dinero, muchacho." "Amy, what are you doing?" "Oh, that isn't your wallet, Cham?" "Watch yourself, son." Chameleon warned him. "They'll stop at nothing to get their retirement funds back. And they seem to do things a little differently in the eighties." "Here we are. The stairs to the garage." "Great, Hann a beautiful woman from outer space and getting up close and personal with her on the sofa of her quarters. Athena's eyes were so startling blue that Face could lose himself in them as though he was swimming through their azure depths, down to her very soul. But then she had to ruin it by saying that she wanted his baby. "You do?" He knew that she probably didn't detect it, but he recoiled from her, his body reacting in horror to her announcement as he shriveled up emotionally, and even physically in ways that we won't elaborate on. After all, this isn't an ad for that little blue pill, ya know! "Yes, Baby." Athena replied, her pupils dilated, her lipstick smudged from their kisses. "I want you." Face shook his head, realizing that he had simply heard her wrong. Or at least he hoped that he had. He quickly shifted gears and leaned down for another kiss. Full speed ahead! * * * * * They had barely survived the trip up the staircase. How in Hades Hole were they goinguck," Commander Adama told them, "I want you to cooperate in every possible way. Obviously, we've needed to get some assistance from local businessmen to finance the Games. We just don't have the necessary cubits in the Colonial Coffers. In return, they've asked for some participation from our athletes to advertise the Games to the Fleet." He stood between them, placing a fatherly hand on each man's shoulder. "In particular, they've asked for you two. After all, the Triad competition will be an event that everyone in the Fleet will be watching. Especially with Jordanian and Kobe playing for Virgon." Starbuck frowned slightly. "Yeah. I was a little surprised by that, Commander. I mean, those two were pros before the Destruction...I thought..." Adama squeezed his shoulder. "It's not about winning, it's about playing your best, Starbuck. And giving our people something to cheer for. Obviously, our population is such that we need to have every available athlete competing, notibal, we can...AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!" CRASH. TUMBLE. "OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!" "Outta my face, Fool!" "Face? But he's..." "SHUDDUP!!!" "Where my top hat?" Meanwhile... "What happened? We run out of tylium again?" "I think Larson forgot to pay the bill again." "Imagine that!" "Any flashlights around here?" "Coming up, Mister Director. Oh, here they are." Click. "Ah!" I can see again. "A little to the left. Oh...yessss..right there!" "Oooh, sounds good!" "Watch it, Benedict! There's not enough chocolate in the world, bub!" "But it's Belgian!" "You never give up trying, do you?" "I'm trying. Ooooh, I'm trying!" WHAT has happened? WHY did all the lights go out? DID Larson forget to pay the bill again? Or was it Cannell? WAS anyone hurt in the garage? HOPE not, since they didn't actually make it into the garage. WHAT is Benedict trying to do to you-know-who? DO you know wh to get to Area 51, what and where-ever that was, and find a wormhole, Starbuck wondered as he entered the garage, looking for something called a "Corvette". "It's not anything like a Viper is it?" "No, Face-Man," said Murdock. "We had the exterminator in her a couple of weeks ago." "Uhh...okay." He jumped as he felt something. "Wha...Amy?" "Oooh. I think the exterminator missed one!" she giggled. "Yeahhhhhhhhhhhh..." "I never imagined the power could cost so much. Uh, Lorne? How are those cattle futures coming?" came a voice from off stage. "Shh! We're rolling!" "Not yet," said Murdock. "But wait until I take my meds, and then..." "QUIET!" "Oh, sorry." "Again, from the top." "I never imagined the power could cost so much. Uh, Lorne? How are those cattle futures coming?" "Not you, Ron!" "Uh, sorry bout that. Won't happen again." "Good. Take it away, Dirk." "Garage scene, take 2." "And make sure that Ro just the amateurs, although that was our previous tradition. Besides, those two are a lot older than you and Apollo. Your youth and enthusiasm will counterbalance their experience." "Although I appreciate the sentiment, Commander, I only play to win," Starbuck replied with his usual bravado. It was true. Jordanian and Kobi probably had at least a deca-yahren on him and Apollo. And the last time he'd seen them on IFB, they'd looked soft and out of shape. Most likely, he was worrying for nothing. The two Colonial Warriors would be able to run circles around them. "That's why you're my partner," Apollo grinned, then a shadow passed over his features. "I've heard they've already sold out the tickets for the finals. I was hoping to get some for Boxey, you and Sheba, Father..." "As President of the Council of the Twelve, I have box seats," Adama returned with a smile. "Rank hath its privileges. Don't worry, we'll be there." "Sold out." Starbuck frowned. "How am I goingo? WHY is that one sentence in italics? Does anyone care? For the answers to these and maybe a few less questions, don't forget to catch the next barbecue sauce and basil leaf deficient episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear Ronald D. Moore say, "I never imagined the power could cost so much. Uh, Lorne? How are those cattle futures coming?" ======= Masterpiece Theater Buries Alistair Cooke will not be seen at this time. In its place we present the following rotten program. The Starbuck Chronicles Part 79 It was the first time in 79 episodes that he was completely alone. No chasing bad guys, no battling maniacally laughing demons, no dancing for lecherous women, no looking for Boxey in disreputable arcades, no sister's undies, and no playing second fiddle to Starbuck in those damn chronicles that he had been swept into against his will. Yeah, just Apollo in a dank little bar that he didn't even know existed on one of the lower decks of the Galactnald Moore is one of them." Dirk quipped. "Enough already! We'll be here all day if we don't get started now." "Garage scene, take 3." They had barely survived the trip up the staircase. How in Hades Hole were they going to get to Area 51 and find a wormhole, what and where-ever that was, Starbuck wondered as he entered the garage, looking for something called a "Corvette". "What's a Corvette exactly?" he asked. "Little sports car. Goes fast and looks good. Kind of symbolic in Face's case." Hannibal grinned around his cigar. "Right over there." He pointed to a white vehicle with a red racing stripe, much like the recently repossessed van's. "How are we all going to fit into that?" Starbuck asked, intent on squeezing in with Amy and not the big, angry guy. "Don't worry, Bucko. It'll be fun! Almost as much fun as cramming college students into phone booths!" Murdock gushed. "I ain't gettin' in no phone.....Uhh, I'm goin' in first, suckas!" BA averre to get tickets for Cassie?" "Talk to Chairman Ioc about it, Starbuck. I'm sure he's set some tickets aside for the families and friends of the athletes that will actually be competing." Adama gave him a fatherly smile. "Now, I want you two shuttling over to the Comtel Ship. You're to report to Chairman Ioc." "What for?" Apollo asked. "Public relations, Chairman Ioc called it. Compared to defending the Fleet, it should be a relatively easy assignment," Adama replied with an encouraging smile, ushering them out the door. "Oh, look at that hair! Shiny and healthy!" Zara enthused with a glowing white smile. "You'd be perfect for Prellon. They'll love you!" "Prellon?" Starbuck asked, raking a hand through his hair. Naturally, it fell back into place. Perfectly. "But I don't use Prellon. I just use the shampoo that the military provides. Basic Destinkum." "That hardly matters," Chairman Ioc replied with a smile. "You've got to use Prellon." "Wica. When he had first walked through the wing doors, the dim, almost negligible (and quite stygian), lighting had seemed like a comforting blanket of obscurity. No one would recognize him there, because they simply couldn't see him. He had sat at the bar and ordered the house brew, not even caring what it was, as long as it was cold and strong. He was barely aware of the lone figure sitting a couple seats away as he sipped, until the man spoke to him. Or perhaps it was to another seated on his opposite side. He turned and looked. Aside from a plant in serious need of water and sunshine, there was no one. "Evil isn't all it's cracked up to be." Silence hung at the bar, and after it finally stopped kicking, a few patrons moved to the booths. Apollo peered closely at the man, certain he had heard the voice before, but his lethargy as well as his inherent disinterest in the moment had him shaking his head in indifference and taking another long draught of his brew. "d, opening the driver's seat and climbing in. Hannibal jumped in beside his Sergeant. "I hope my cigar survives this. C'mon in." He nodded to the others. "Uh, look Hannibal, you seem like a nice guy and all, but I don't want to sit on your lap." Starbuck told him, his arms crossed over his chest. "Do you want to sit on BA's?" Hannibal asked with a grin. "Back seat, Starbuck." "Back seat? That little space behind you? I couldn't cram a midget in there..." Hey! Mind your manners. The phrase is, vertically challenged! A sign appeared before the Lieutenant. "Oh, sorry, I thought you were gone with the others." Starbuck apologized, looking down at the little man. Vertically challenged! (Oh, I'm sorry too.) "Get in Lieutenant!" Hannibal ordered in a voice that made Colonel Tigh at his worse sound warm and inviting. "Lords, how do I get myself into these messes?" Starbuck groaned, cramming himself into the back seat. "I keep asking myself that hair products do you use? Not a hair out of place, even when you run your fingers through it...it's so manageable," Zara oozed. "No products," Starbuck protested. "He just crams his resplendent head in a flight helmet. Does the trick every time," Apollo remarked. "Make sure the Prellon name is on his triad gear. I want everyone in the Fleet knowing that Starbuck is backing Prellon." "But he just said he doesn't use it," Apollo reminded them with an amused grin. "Ooh, such a beautiful smile, Apollo! So white! Radiant! Like beautiful and rare pearlons." She glanced at her assistant. "Enter Apollo in for backing Pearlon Laser Whites. Do you think you can open your mouth a little wider when you're playing?" Zara asked him. "Show off those pearly whites?" "I might get a triad ball in the mouth..." Apollo rejoined with a sideways glance at his friend. "Or an elbow," Starbuck added. "I thought the new rules had us wearing mouth guards, anyhow. YoOh, sure it can be glamorous, but beneath all the fire and brimstone, it's lonely. Damn lonely." The man shuffled off his bar stool and moved to a raised stage, sitting on the small stool and grabbing the microphone that had rested there. He paused, taking a drink from his glass before dusting off his bowler, adjusting his carnation, and looking out over the room, his eyes glowing red for a micron. "Lonely. I'm mister lonely. I have nobody for my own. I am so lonely, I'm Mr. Lonely, Wish I had someone to call on the telecom. Now I'm a soldier, a lonely soldier, Away from home through no wish of my own. That's why I'm lonely, I'm Mr. Lonely, I wish that I could go back home." ** Apollo glanced around, feeling as though he was a character in a Fellini Holovid. The plant was ignoring him, as was Silence, and he turned back to his drink. He sighed loudly, as his gaze wandered back to the main attraction. The entertainer finished his short song and downed the rest of his drink, he same thing," said Chameleon, finding himself lodged somewhere between Starbuck's left knee, and Amy's right... "Oh Ginger, where are you?" "That really does look uncomfortable, Colonel." Murdock murmured, looking through the darkened rear window, his entire body stiffening as he shouted out in warning, "BA, don't do it! Don't put your seat back! I promise I'll never share my thorazine with a lobster again...... NOOOOOOO!" The big man slammed the driver's seat into the rear position and a sharp intake of breath was heard behind him, followed by a long groan. And then silence. And then some more silence. And then some more silence after that. "Can I have that last slice of pizza?" asked Murdock. "Shh!" WHAT happens when a 240 lb. man slams a Corvette seat back against a comparatively slight Lieutenant, a frail and aging con-man, and a newswoman in a miniskirt? And, WILL the daemon follow up his solo with a stand-up routine? WHY did someone spelled "dethrowing the glass against the wall and watching it shatter into a million shards of spectacular light that burst outward briefly lighting the space. "You know, half of you lot are afraid of me," Again his eyes glowed red, and his form shifted demonically as though his alter ego was trying to make itself known. "...and the other half wonder what it would be like to be me." He raised his glass to the crowd and saluted them, "Community drink." Apollo couldn't help but join the other patrons as he tipped his glass and tasted the cold brew. He watched with interest as a server approached the daemon and handed him a drink, while pointing out the generous contributor. The daemon nodded politely and took a sip. "The nectar of Diabolis himself." His even white teeth glinted in the dim light. "How frightfully delicious. Thank you, my dear. I'll be taking souls backstage after the show." * * * * * At first it had seemed the very stuff of the great romance movies. Meetingmon" with an "a"? HOW did the vertically challenged Butler Guy end up in the garage? WILL Lorne ever Hos...uh, fess up about those cattle futures? WHAT part of Amy was Starbuck leaning up against? WILL Murdock get the last slice of pizza, and WHO is he asking? WHAT happened to all the lawyers and plaintiffs we had a few eps back? For the answers to these and several other mind-bogglingly post- prandially perambulatory questions, don't miss the next convectively unstable, non-propitiatory episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when you'll hear a mysterious voice scream, "Leto!" and Hannibal (if you're really good) mention, "this isn't quite the wormhole we had in mind". ======= Words and Music by Bobby Vinton and Gene Allan (and if you can't hear the music, buy another round). The Sandworms Do Las Vegas will not be seen at this time. In it's place we present the following spiced-up program. The Starbuck Chronicles Part 80 Apollo nodded to the barkeep as anot a beautiful woman from outer space and getting up close and personal with her on the sofa of her quarters. Athena's eyes were so startling blue that Face could lose himself in them as though he was swimming through their azure depths, down to her very soul. But then she had to ruin it by saying that she wanted his baby. "You do?" He knew that she probably didn't detect it, but he recoiled from her, his body reacting in horror to her announcement as he shriveled up emotionally, and even physically in ways that we won't elaborate on. After all, this isn't an ad for that little blue pill, ya know! "Yes, Baby." Athena replied, her pupils dilated, her lipstick smudged from their kisses. "I want you." Face shook his head, realizing that he had simply heard her wrong. Or at least he hoped that he had. He quickly shifted gears and leaned down for another kiss. Full speed ahead! * * * * * They had barely survived the trip up the staircase. How in Hades Hole were they goingu won't see Apollo's teeth..." He winked at his friend. "Even though I've often used those sparkling whites as an emergency homing beacon when my Viper's systems failed. Can see them clear across the galaxy." "Put him down for a couple free tickets for his little lady," Chairman Ioc said over his shoulder. "Now you're getting into the spirit of the Games." "Really?" Starbuck asked wryly. "It's all about selling Pearlon Laser Whites, is it?" "You won't be able to see Starbuck's hair either," Apollo mentioned. "Helmets." "Is it too late to scrap the safety gear altogether, Chairman Ioc? After all, it's more important that the corporate sponsors get adequate coverage..." Zara ventured. "Speaking of adequate coverage, have you heard about the uniforms?" Apollo asked his friend. "About the only place wide enough to write Prellon is across your astrum, buddy." "What exactly are you inferring about the width of my astrum?" Starbuck countered. "In fact, I'll have her mug of grog was placed in front of him. Lords sake, it was good to relax after all he had been through. He could feel a pleasant warmth spreading through his limbs as the alcohol worked its way into his system. His body felt relaxed, as did his mind. Nothing pressing. Nobody demanding his time or attention. No Cylons, demons, bowls of bluthrgg from that other storyline, or even dead people. Just kick back and enjoy the somewhat unusual entertainment. Suddenly, a spotlight lit up the stage, and, after the extinguishers had put it out, a voice rang out to the accompaniment of a drumroll... "And now, direct from Cylon, from an extended tour at the Imperial Palace, your demented evil leader and mine, old Bug Eyes himself, the Imperious Leader!" Apollo paused, even after the drum had rolled across the stage, looking closely at the Being who sauntered up onto stage, doing a little soft shoe routine, before taking the mic from the emcee and tossing it from hand to hand. A sm to get to Area 51, what and where-ever that was, and find a wormhole, Starbuck wondered as he entered the garage, looking for something called a "Corvette". "It's not anything like a Viper is it?" "No, Face-Man," said Murdock. "We had the exterminator in her a couple of weeks ago." "Uhh...okay." He jumped as he felt something. "Wha...Amy?" "Oooh. I think the exterminator missed one!" she giggled. "Yeahhhhhhhhhhhh..." "I never imagined the power could cost so much. Uh, Lorne? How are those cattle futures coming?" came a voice from off stage. "Shh! We're rolling!" "Not yet," said Murdock. "But wait until I take my meds, and then..." "QUIET!" "Oh, sorry." "Again, from the top." "I never imagined the power could cost so much. Uh, Lorne? How are those cattle futures coming?" "Not you, Ron!" "Uh, sorry bout that. Won't happen again." "Good. Take it away, Dirk." "Garage scene, take 2." "And make sure that Royou know..." "Now, now, we can't have our star athletes talking like that. What about a secondary event? What can we sign you up for?" Chairman Ioc asked, glancing over his datapad nervously. "Secondary event?" Apollo asked. "We don't really have a secondary event. We're triad players." "Low-G Wrestling? Diskobolos? Relay Hover-Gliding? Hoplitodromos?" "Wait a centon, back to the uniforms, just exactly how have they changed?" Starbuck asked. "They were already a bit on the breezy side, if you know what I mean." Someone, probably Cassie, giggled off-screen. "Well, we wanted to get some of the traditional flavour of the Games back," Chairman Ioc told them. "Too much modernism has infiltrated the Games in this day and age." "I'll say," Apollo agreed. "The solution was obvious. We go back to the Games' roots. Athletic nudity," Chairman Ioc told them. Apollo's mouth dropped open. "Come again?" Starbuck asked. More giggling. Louattering of applause died down quickly as his Imperiousness reached for the three-legged stool, seemingly using all his strength to drag it forward into the spotlight. "Hey, it's generally not my brawn that I'm known for." he quipped, as he sat heavily. "Do they still make an insulated java-pot, by the way?" A few tittering laughs. "Well, that was certainly a close shave, wan'it?" Apollo shook his head as he considered the robed figure that he had never seen in person before. Few men had, and had actually lived to tell about it. His immense head held a certain amount of grotesque fascination to the Captain, and Apollo stared in wonder and in horror. "Here's looking at you, kid," the Imperious Leader pointed at Apollo. "So three Cylon Centurions walk into a bar .you'd think that with the new and improved sensor array in the roving red optical detector, that one of them would have seen the damn thing!" Apollo held up his hand, looking for another drink, this one a doublnald Moore is one of them." Dirk quipped. "Enough already! We'll be here all day if we don't get started now." "Garage scene, take 3." They had barely survived the trip up the staircase. How in Hades Hole were they going to get to Area 51 and find a wormhole, what and where-ever that was, Starbuck wondered as he entered the garage, looking for something called a "Corvette". "What's a Corvette exactly?" he asked. "Little sports car. Goes fast and looks good. Kind of symbolic in Face's case." Hannibal grinned around his cigar. "Right over there." He pointed to a white vehicle with a red racing stripe, much like the recently repossessed van's. "How are we all going to fit into that?" Starbuck asked, intent on squeezing in with Amy and not the big, angry guy. "Don't worry, Bucko. It'll be fun! Almost as much fun as cramming college students into phone booths!" Murdock gushed. "I ain't gettin' in no phone.....Uhh, I'm goin' in first, suckas!" BA averreder, this time. "It's a practice that encourages the appreciation of the body," Ioc explained. "After all, the festival is meant to celebrate the achievements of the human body." Oh yes, achievements! Yeeessss..... "Children will be watching!" Apollo protested. "And it's cold in space," Starbuck said alarmingly. "The children...a good point, Chairman Ioc," Zara said with a glance at her datapad. "Mattelon and Hasbron did contribute more than Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel and Fooling Around Paraphernalia Emporium. Plus we can boost the profits if we have similar clothing that we can sell to the masses." "After all, they won't be able to afford the tickets to the events unless they get a personal loan from Sire Antipas' Usury," Chairman Ioc snickered. "But Sire Uri is a personal friend of mine, Zara..." "I'm not participating naked!" Apollo averred. "Sagan's sake, I'm glad we're not signed up for wrestling..." Starbuck murmured in horror. Then his eye. Amateur Night at the Lost Souls Bar, Grill, and Exotic Booze Emporium was a strange but welcome diversion from the rigors of the Captain's everyday life. Chameleon's groan seemed to last an eternity after BA slammed the car seat of the Vette back into its rear-most position. And with every bit of breath that the conman expelled, that meant another iota of space had opened up so that Starbuck could draw some oxygen into his starved lungs to fuel his battered body. The Vette peeled out, taking off out of the garage and into the street, with Murdock flying into the backseat to land atop Starbuck, Chameleon, and Amy. The gangly pilot grabbed a hold of the tops of both bucket seats, hollering, "Yeehawwwww!" as he pulled himself forward trying to find a more comfortable position. "Better find me a plane, Colonel. I just don't think we're going to be able to drive to Area 51 with six people in Face's Vette." "I ain't getting' on no plane, Sucka!" BA spat, though he automatd, opening the driver's seat and climbing in. Hannibal jumped in beside his Sergeant. "I hope my cigar survives this. C'mon in." He nodded to the others. "Uh, look Hannibal, you seem like a nice guy and all, but I don't want to sit on your lap." Starbuck told him, his arms crossed over his chest. "Do you want to sit on BA's?" Hannibal asked with a grin. "Back seat, Starbuck." "Back seat? That little space behind you? I couldn't cram a midget in there..." Hey! Mind your manners. The phrase is, vertically challenged! A sign appeared before the Lieutenant. "Oh, sorry, I thought you were gone with the others." Starbuck apologized, looking down at the little man. Vertically challenged! (Oh, I'm sorry too.) "Get in Lieutenant!" Hannibal ordered in a voice that made Colonel Tigh at his worse sound warm and inviting. "Lords, how do I get myself into these messes?" Starbuck groaned, cramming himself into the back seat. "I keep asking myself tebrows raised. "Wait a centon, what do I need to do to get tickets to the lady's..." Apollo hit him. "Lady's what?" Ioc asked. Starbuck shrugged. "Anything really." "They want me to make Hover-Gliding my secondary event," Apollo explained to Starbuck on the shuttle to the Rising Star. Finally, the promotional shorts and shameless advertising on the Comtel Ship were done and they could actually start practicing for the events. "So?" "I'm picking you for my relay team," the Captain added with an evil smile. "Apollo! Oh, no! I'm not Hover-Gliding! Not this kid!" Starbuck protested. "Boomer and I thought we should pitch Extreme Pyramid for an Introductory Sport." "Extreme Pyramid?" Apollo asked. "Don't think I've ever heard of that." "Yeah. We go through an obstacle course and once completing each segment, we play Pyramid." "Obstacle course, huh?" "Yeah. Dodging Borellian laser boles, space-walking without safety lines, che same thing," said Chameleon, finding himself lodged somewhere between Starbuck's left knee, and Amy's right... "Oh Ginger, where are you?" "That really does look uncomfortable, Colonel." Murdock murmured, looking through the darkened rear window, his entire body stiffening as he shouted out in warning, "BA, don't do it! Don't put your seat back! I promise I'll never share my thorazine with a lobster again...... NOOOOOOO!" The big man slammed the driver's seat into the rear position and a sharp intake of breath was heard behind him, followed by a long groan. And then silence. And then some more silence. And then some more silence after that. "Can I have that last slice of pizza?" asked Murdock. "Shh!" WHAT happens when a 240 lb. man slams a Corvette seat back against a comparatively slight Lieutenant, a frail and aging con-man, and a newswoman in a miniskirt? And, WILL the daemon follow up his solo with a stand-up routine? WHY did someone spelled "derashlanding out-of-control Vipers..." He grinned. "Just another day in the life of a super-fantastic Colonial Warrior." "Let me get this straight, you're going to dodge laser boles? Intentionally." Starbuck pointed to his chest, then shook his head with a rueful grin. "I actually see Boomer as the guy doing the obstacle course. Personally, I think I could do better in the Pyramid playing. Or at least in an advisory capacity. But hey...we'll be a team." "How does playing Pyramid have anything to do with the Games' ideals, Starbuck?" "There's ideals?" The captain wasn't sure whether to laugh, or spit. Starbuck could look soooo innocent when he wanted to. "Uh huh." Apollo nodded. "Swifter, stronger, higher." "Sounds like an promo jingle for Crawlon Man on plant vapours, not ideals for an ancient sporting event." "Some of these are ancient sporting events, Starbuck. Didn't you read the preliminary notices?" "Uh, well..." "Thought so," sighed Apically took the freeway towards the nearest private air strip. After all, it didn't seem to matter how many times they knocked him out and stuck him on a plane, episode after episode, he kept trying to `one up' them. Oh, and this time he would. Starbuck could feel Amy pressed up against him, her mini skirt riding tantalizingly high on her thighs as she straddled him, her curvaceous body squirming against him as she sought purchase. Or even a short-term lease. She scrambled, trying to stabilize herself, as the car rocked from side to side with each turn and twist as the A-team flew towards its destination. "Oomph!" Starbuck wheezed, as Amy's sudden position change turned into an octave-altering vocal exercise, knocking what little breath he had been able to regain, right out again. "Easy," he squealed, gripping her hips to steady her. "Am not!" she hissed. "Put her down, Lieutenant!" Hannibal barked. "You know the Team rules regarding Miss Allen." "No I don't." Smon" with an "a"? HOW did the vertically challenged Butler Guy end up in the garage? WILL Lorne ever Hos...uh, fess up about those cattle futures? WHAT part of Amy was Starbuck leaning up against? WILL Murdock get the last slice of pizza, and WHO is he asking? WHAT happened to all the lawyers and plaintiffs we had a few eps back? For the answers to these and several other mind-bogglingly post- prandially perambulatory questions, don't miss the next convectively unstable, non-propitiatory episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when you'll hear a mysterious voice scream, "Leto!" and Hannibal (if you're really good) mention, "this isn't quite the wormhole we had in mind". ======= Words and Music by Bobby Vinton and Gene Allan (and if you can't hear the music, buy another round). The Sandworms Do Las Vegas will not be seen at this time. In it's place we present the following spiced-up program. The Starbuck Chronicles Part 80 Apollo nodded to the barkeep as anotollo. "Nonetheless..." "Well, being the swifter of the two of us and being willing to answer the higher calling of card playing, I'm sure that Boomer would have a stronger showing as the obstacle course runner." "I heard that!" Boomer shouted from a few seats away. "Starbuck, the Games Committee isn't going to entertain the idea of Extreme Pyramid. It ranks right up there with the Cylon Head Toss, Pin The Tail On Imperious Leader, and the Colonial Death Race as the stupidest ideas for events. I know it seems kind of commercial these days, but they haven't lost all sense of what the United Games really means to the Colonial Nation." "Oh yeah? I hear that Flintex, the Superior Name in Flame is one of the sponsors. Picture me sitting at the card table lighting up one of my Empyrean Fumarellos with my Flintex ignitor. The smoke gently curls above my shiny and manageable Prellon washed hair. Then I take a sip of my Proteus Stock Ambrosa. I smile for the vid-feed...might evetarbuck grinned, rechecking to make sure she, and her hips, were quite steady. After all, a Viper pilot has to be quite, quite sure about these things before launching. "I'm not Face! I thought I made that clear." "So did I." Murdock added. "And I'm not even invisible." "Me too, Hannibal." BA grunted. "Yet, anyway," said Murdock. "Shut up, Fool!" "I still have my doubts, Lieutenant." Hannibal yelled back over his shoulder. "So do I," Amy added, wondering why her brassiere was suspiciously undone-wait a minute-actually, it was gone altogether! "Face!" she yelled, smacking him soundly across the ..Face. Tee hee hee. "That's my boy!" Chameleon chuckled, glad that yahrens of dancing had limbered him up sufficiently to comfortably recline into a pretzel position on both the floor, and part of one seat of the Vette. "Owwwww." Starbuck whined. "He's Face all right," Hannibal yelled. "Say Murdock, you got any of those breadsticks left?" "Well,her mug of grog was placed in front of him. Lords sake, it was good to relax after all he had been through. He could feel a pleasant warmth spreading through his limbs as the alcohol worked its way into his system. His body felt relaxed, as did his mind. Nothing pressing. Nobody demanding his time or attention. No Cylons, demons, bowls of bluthrgg from that other storyline, or even dead people. Just kick back and enjoy the somewhat unusual entertainment. Suddenly, a spotlight lit up the stage, and, after the extinguishers had put it out, a voice rang out to the accompaniment of a drumroll... "And now, direct from Cylon, from an extended tour at the Imperial Palace, your demented evil leader and mine, old Bug Eyes himself, the Imperious Leader!" Apollo paused, even after the drum had rolled across the stage, looking closely at the Being who sauntered up onto stage, doing a little soft shoe routine, before taking the mic from the emcee and tossing it from hand to hand. A smn try some of your Pearlon Laser Whites." Apollo shook his head, sighing in disgust. "You're impossible. Look, we're docking. Let's get to the court and get in a practice before Chairman Ioc drops Zara and hires you as his public relations man." He climbed to his feet, heading for the hatch, motioning for Starbuck to follow. "It's just a little harmless commerce, buddy," Starbuck replied from behind him. "So was the Carillon tylium mine," drolled Boomer. "All the same, I'll be glad to leave this aspect of it behind, and just start competing," Apollo continued, pausing as a man dressed in the United Games official uniform thrust a plasticon bottle into his hand. "What's this?" "Welcome to the United Games, Captain Apollo." He gestured at a stunning blonde next to him. She smiled. "Please follow your escort and provide a urine specimen." "Oh, mong," Apollo muttered. "No, just urine," she replied. "What do you mean, they won't let you play?" Ap okay, Colonel. 'Murdock, you got any of those..." "Never mind," said Smith, sighing. God, Murdock could be so...nuts at times! "Anyway, where were we?" He rechecked his script. "Oh, right. He's Face, alright." "He sure is!" Amy nodded, staring down into the sea blue eyes that twinkled as he grinned at her. She couldn't resist smiling back as he winked at her. "You are, aren't you?" she whispered. "What?" he asked, shaking his head. She leaned lower. "Are you Face, or not?" He ran a hand through her hair, pulling her to him. "You tell me," he whispered as he slowly and thoroughly kissed her. The Corvette came to a sudden stop, all occupants thrown backwards at the sudden loss of forward momentum. "I need to adjust the brakes, Faceman." BA hollered in way of an apology. "When was the last time you had this baby serviced?" "Serviced? Hey, everything is working just fine at the moment." "Oh Lords!" sighed Chameleon. "Hmm. Lords indeed." Starbattering of applause died down quickly as his Imperiousness reached for the three-legged stool, seemingly using all his strength to drag it forward into the spotlight. "Hey, it's generally not my brawn that I'm known for." he quipped, as he sat heavily. "Do they still make an insulated java-pot, by the way?" A few tittering laughs. "Well, that was certainly a close shave, wan'it?" Apollo shook his head as he considered the robed figure that he had never seen in person before. Few men had, and had actually lived to tell about it. His immense head held a certain amount of grotesque fascination to the Captain, and Apollo stared in wonder and in horror. "Here's looking at you, kid," the Imperious Leader pointed at Apollo. "So three Cylon Centurions walk into a bar .you'd think that with the new and improved sensor array in the roving red optical detector, that one of them would have seen the damn thing!" Apollo held up his hand, looking for another drink, this one a doublollo gasped, as Starbuck squirmed under the intensity of his glare. "Well...I have a little...well...uh..." Starbuck mumbled, unable to meet Apollo's eyes. "What? Spit it out, Starbuck!" Apollo ordered him, using his most rigid command voice. "Performance anxiety," Starbuck admitted elusively, raking a hand through his perfect hair. "Excuse me?" Apollo asked. "Since when have you ever had trouble performing?" LOTS more giggling, off screen. It may have been Aurora this time, but no one is fessing up. "Since I had to try and pee in a bottle in front of the averted gaze of a wizened old lady named Chastity," Starbuck admitted. "I couldn't. They accused me of avoiding the drug testing. I wasn't avoiding the testing, Apollo, I just couldn't...well, you know. She looked like the matron at the orphanage, for Lord's sake!" "Sagan's sake, Starbuck, you've been sharing turbo flushes since you were a kid! How could you suddenly have trouble emptying youuck murmured against Amy, still holding her close. "I think I like Earth." "Everybody out!" Hannibal called out, climbing out of the sports car to take a look over the airfield. "I ain't flying, Hannibal! Understand? No plane!" BA barked, pulling a syringe surreptitiously from his pocket and moving towards Murdock. This time, BA wins!! "That's okay, BA. We'll just leave you here. After all, we have a spaceman with us. I'm sure he must make up for at least two regular team members." Hannibal grinned around his cigar as Murdock jumped out behind him. "Ah, Colonel, we can't leave Boomer behind," Murdock whined. "I mean, he's so cool, and I don't have his action figure in my collection back at the asylum, yet." "Don't worry, Captain. We don't leave our men behind. You know that. Face?" No response. "FACE!!" Meanwhile, BA stuck it to Murdock. "Ouch!" the pilot cried, before affecting a proper English upper crust accent and adding, "I do believe I'e. Amateur Night at the Lost Souls Bar, Grill, and Exotic Booze Emporium was a strange but welcome diversion from the rigors of the Captain's everyday life. Chameleon's groan seemed to last an eternity after BA slammed the car seat of the Vette back into its rear-most position. And with every bit of breath that the conman expelled, that meant another iota of space had opened up so that Starbuck could draw some oxygen into his starved lungs to fuel his battered body. The Vette peeled out, taking off out of the garage and into the street, with Murdock flying into the backseat to land atop Starbuck, Chameleon, and Amy. The gangly pilot grabbed a hold of the tops of both bucket seats, hollering, "Yeehawwwww!" as he pulled himself forward trying to find a more comfortable position. "Better find me a plane, Colonel. I just don't think we're going to be able to drive to Area 51 with six people in Face's Vette." "I ain't getting' on no plane, Sucka!" BA spat, though he automatr bladder in public?" He paused as his friend once again squirmed under his gaze. He tried another tactic. "Ultimately we're going to be playing against the two best triad players in the history of the Colonies. I need you." "Well, that's awfully sweet, buddy, but..." Starbuck shrugged helplessly. "I don't know what to do!" "Well, I do!" Apollo exclaimed, grabbing his buddy by the arm. "We're going to fill up that bladder until you're screaming for mercy for the chance to empty it!" "I'm a Viper pilot. That means I have the bladder capacity of a small tanker," Starbuck returned. He turned to the camera. "Colonial, not Cylon." Then, back to Apollo. "Besides, isn't your plan a little extreme?" "Extreme, huh? Maybe it could be a new event in the Games to go along with Extreme Pyramid," Apollo replied sarcastically, dragging him towards the Astral Lounge. "Extreme Bladder Filling. You, Lieutenant, will be the first contestant." "Excuse me, Captain, but you can't ve been sedated." He dropped to the ground. Hannibal returned to the car to see a deep.....uh, passionate embrace between the reporter and Lieutenant that had all the signs of taking their nice family show, with all its machine guns, grenade launchers, and other mayhem, to a late night time slot on pay TV next to Carson. The windows of the Vette began steaming up, and that was with the top down!!!! "Amy! Put him down!" Hannibal hollered. "Can't yet!" she rasped throatily. "Ah, Miss..." Chameleon interjected, slipping the last piece of breadstick into his mouth. "Face, your socks don't match your underwear," Amy murmured euphorically, a silly grin on her features. "Well, we'll have to get rid." Starbuck murmured huskily to Amy, breathing in her perfume. "I thought you had to get rid of..." WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! "Amy? Man, you..." "It's ically took the freeway towards the nearest private air strip. After all, it didn't seem to matter how many times they knocked him out and stuck him on a plane, episode after episode, he kept trying to `one up' them. Oh, and this time he would. Starbuck could feel Amy pressed up against him, her mini skirt riding tantalizingly high on her thighs as she straddled him, her curvaceous body squirming against him as she sought purchase. Or even a short-term lease. She scrambled, trying to stabilize herself, as the car rocked from side to side with each turn and twist as the A-team flew towards its destination. "Oomph!" Starbuck wheezed, as Amy's sudden position change turned into an octave-altering vocal exercise, knocking what little breath he had been able to regain, right out again. "Easy," he squealed, gripping her hips to steady her. "Am not!" she hissed. "Put her down, Lieutenant!" Hannibal barked. "You know the Team rules regarding Miss Allen." "No I don't." Sgo in there," a bulky Games representative wearing the official colours of the Games suddenly announced, physically putting himself between the Colonial Warriors and the popular Rising Star bar. "Why not?" Apollo asked. "The Astral Lounge isn't one of the official supporters of the Games. Such notable competitors such as yourself and Lieutenant Paruresis here simply are not permitted entry." "Lieutenant Paru..." Starbuck muttered. "I don't know what that means, and I'm pretty sure I don't want to..." "It means you have Shy Bladder Syndrome, buddy," Apollo explained, ever so helpfully. "Oh that's just great!" Starbuck flushed in embarrassment. "It's all over the Fleet." "You sure were!" giggled another female voice, of uncertain provenance. "Where can we get something for Starbuck to drink?" Apollo asked the rep. "Coka Colon has two booths on every deck." The rep smiled "Coka Colon?" Starbuck echoed, his eyes wide. "Call me crazy, but that jDecker!" BA yelled, suddenly regretting his hasty actions as he nudged Murdock with the toe of his boot. The pilot began to snore where he lay upon the tarmac as a fleet of cars with flashing lights on top began racing towards them at breakneck speed. "That's not Decker!" Hannibal shouted. "It's the Censors!" "Sensors?" Starbuck asked, "what kind of sensors? Cylon?" "The kind that take a nice family show like ours and blast it into TV Oblivion." Murdock sat up for a moment staring into space, "Then next year, they realize that they screwed up big time canceling us, and come out with a show called The B-Team." He dropped back to the ground insensate. "But the only one they can get to come back to the show is Amy." BA grunted. "Or Robert Vaughn," said Murdock, double-checking his meds. "Man, ain't that NBC all over!" "Hey!" Amy sat up sharply in the back of the Vette. "I heard that!" "Ohhhh." Starbuck groaned, "I felt that." She leatarbuck grinned, rechecking to make sure she, and her hips, were quite steady. After all, a Viper pilot has to be quite, quite sure about these things before launching. "I'm not Face! I thought I made that clear." "So did I." Murdock added. "And I'm not even invisible." "Me too, Hannibal." BA grunted. "Yet, anyway," said Murdock. "Shut up, Fool!" "I still have my doubts, Lieutenant." Hannibal yelled back over his shoulder. "So do I," Amy added, wondering why her brassiere was suspiciously undone-wait a minute-actually, it was gone altogether! "Face!" she yelled, smacking him soundly across the ..Face. Tee hee hee. "That's my boy!" Chameleon chuckled, glad that yahrens of dancing had limbered him up sufficiently to comfortably recline into a pretzel position on both the floor, and part of one seat of the Vette. "Owwwww." Starbuck whined. "He's Face all right," Hannibal yelled. "Say Murdock, you got any of those breadsticks left?" "Well,ust doesn't sound like a good idea to me, buddy." "Starbuck, not only are you going to drink Coka Colon, you're going to do it with a smile on your face!" Apollo replied, clamping a hand on his friend's shoulder and marching him towards the nearest booth. "After all," said Boomer, "it is the real thing." "It is?" asked Starbuck. "Says so on the label, Buddy." "What if it's lying?" retorted Starbuck. "Then the universe will disappear, since we're all of us just a figment of its imagination," said Apollo. "I'd rather a nice Empyrean ale," Starbuck whimpered. "Ama!" He looked around. "Lu? Zaz?" "Hey, Ama's on the wagon," said a voice. It was Commander Dayton, though why he was there is somewhat...unclear. "A last centon stab at continuity by Senmut," someone whispered. "Now I really need a drink!" WILL Starbuck overcome his Shy Bladder Syndrome? DOES he really need a drink? HOW will he manage it? (Either one, that is!) WHO was giggling ned down a gave him a kiss, "You'll come back and do a cameo role though, won't you, Face? The Return Of Faceman." "I can see it now." Starbuck grinned ruefully. "I'm all alone inside a beachhouse." "The only place you gonna be seein' the inside of is Leavenworth if we don't figure out a way out of here, Face!" said Hannibal. "Leavenworth? Is that good?" Starbuck asked Amy. "All depends if it's Leavenworth, Washington-that cute little Bavarian Style tourist trap-or the Federal Prison in Kansas." Amy replied. "Personally, I'll take the tourist trap. The Hotel Eidelweiss has great German sausage. Say, where's my bra?" "Where's my bra?" said someone. "So which Leavenworth..." "The bad one," mumbled Murdock, from the ground. "Should I ask?" "I think he means the prison, Face." Amy admitted. "Can't we just take the Vette?" "Face, you're just not getting into the spirit of the show. With the Censors on the way, we now must find another okay, Colonel. 'Murdock, you got any of those..." "Never mind," said Smith, sighing. God, Murdock could be so...nuts at times! "Anyway, where were we?" He rechecked his script. "Oh, right. He's Face, alright." "He sure is!" Amy nodded, staring down into the sea blue eyes that twinkled as he grinned at her. She couldn't resist smiling back as he winked at her. "You are, aren't you?" she whispered. "What?" he asked, shaking his head. She leaned lower. "Are you Face, or not?" He ran a hand through her hair, pulling her to him. "You tell me," he whispered as he slowly and thoroughly kissed her. The Corvette came to a sudden stop, all occupants thrown backwards at the sudden loss of forward momentum. "I need to adjust the brakes, Faceman." BA hollered in way of an apology. "When was the last time you had this baby serviced?" "Serviced? Hey, everything is working just fine at the moment." "Oh Lords!" sighed Chameleon. "Hmm. Lords indeed." Starboff-screen? WILL Borax have a chance to say, "I'm gonna go find that surfboard, and see what Belloby's up to"? WHY was Dayton suddenly there? WILL the official triad uniform become nonexistent in the tradition of the early Games? WHAT happened to the other plot threads? WHERE is Siress Belloby, and her priestesses? IS there still any hope for her Mistress Plan? WILL Extreme Bladder Filling become a registered event? For the answers to these (maybe) and other superflously pervaricative questions, be sure not to miss, and to stay tuned, for the next turbidly obfuscatory, sartorially challenged episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Be here, when you'll hear Jolly say, "You should have seen the guy that got mine!" *************** When we last visited with our heroes they were immersed in the Unified Games right up to their Prellon hair products and back down to their Pearlon teeth whiteners. Much has happened since then, but none of it in this storyline. Therefore, it's with way to escape them. It would be redundant to just climb back into the Vette-not to mention uncomfortable." Hannibal explained impatiently. "Actually, it's not as bad as I first thought." Starbuck grinned up at Amy. "In fact, it was great!" "Starbuck, do an old man a favor, and get off me!" Chameleon murmured from beneath the floor mat. "BA." Hannibal barked. BA returned to the Vette, grabbing hold of Amy and lifting her easily from the sardine can-I mean sports car-and placing her on her feet. He grabbed Starbuck by the tunic and hauled him out behind her, dumping him unceremoniously on the ground beside her. "I can manage, Mr. Baracus." Chameleon told the big man with a weak smile. "Hannibal, what we gonna do, man?" BA asked. Though the cars should have been there by now, the longwinded-ness of the writers had somehow magically delayed their arrival. "Hey, what are those?" Starbuck pointed to the nearest plane. "They have wings; they must fly." His euck murmured against Amy, still holding her close. "I think I like Earth." "Everybody out!" Hannibal called out, climbing out of the sports car to take a look over the airfield. "I ain't flying, Hannibal! Understand? No plane!" BA barked, pulling a syringe surreptitiously from his pocket and moving towards Murdock. This time, BA wins!! "That's okay, BA. We'll just leave you here. After all, we have a spaceman with us. I'm sure he must make up for at least two regular team members." Hannibal grinned around his cigar as Murdock jumped out behind him. "Ah, Colonel, we can't leave Boomer behind," Murdock whined. "I mean, he's so cool, and I don't have his action figure in my collection back at the asylum, yet." "Don't worry, Captain. We don't leave our men behind. You know that. Face?" No response. "FACE!!" Meanwhile, BA stuck it to Murdock. "Ouch!" the pilot cried, before affecting a proper English upper crust accent and adding, "I do believe I'fibrillating hearts and volvulating colons that we once again bring you ... The Starbuck Chronicles. Part 95. Wow. Been a long time! "You're telling me!" said Belloby, sitting in the cafeteria next to the Butler Guy, and making a face at her java cup. As a testament to grace and good manners, it did not make one back. "I haven't heard a peep in ages." Any ideas why? "Got me, Shorty. Maybe Zaz has been busy. You know how it is. Work. Kids. Parents. Gardening. Sloth-like tendencies. General laziness. Lapses into alternate realities featuring large doses of chocolate. Diagnosing cases of hemochromatosis." Empyrean FanFic. "Yeah. That too, Shiny." Stop calling me that! Okay, Chrome Dome." "Yeah, we've been busy," said Dayton, next to Adama across the room. The Galactica Commander, along with Vela, Igraine, and a stack of newspapers ( the Virginia City Times), was perusing the cattle futures, while his putative grandchild was making obscene oriyes sparkled as he strode towards the nearest plane, the gangway conveniently lowered for easy access, thanks to one of the previously heretofore above-mentioned writers." "Is he kidding, Hannibal?" BA asked. "He's a pilot, your know." Chameleon added with pride. "I won't even board a plane willingly with Murdock! D'ya think I'm gonna let Face fly me anywhere?" BA snarled. "Stop fooling around, Face. We need a plan." Hannibal groused, following the Lieutenant onto the plane. "Face! Are you listening to me? Face!" "Hey, this looks like something someone put together from mushie boxes," Starbuck muttered as he tucked his tunic back into his pants. He sat down in the pilot's seat of the cockpit. "Lords, I'm actually sitting in a mechanized fossil." "BA, get everyone in!" Hannibal ordered the sergeant as he watched Face start going through the motions of starting the engines. One of them whined, then began to spin. The second prop followed a few moments later.ve been sedated." He dropped to the ground. Hannibal returned to the car to see a deep.....uh, passionate embrace between the reporter and Lieutenant that had all the signs of taking their nice family show, with all its machine guns, grenade launchers, and other mayhem, to a late night time slot on pay TV next to Carson. The windows of the Vette began steaming up, and that was with the top down!!!! "Amy! Put him down!" Hannibal hollered. "Can't yet!" she rasped throatily. "Ah, Miss..." Chameleon interjected, slipping the last piece of breadstick into his mouth. "Face, your socks don't match your underwear," Amy murmured euphorically, a silly grin on her features. "Well, we'll have to get rid." Starbuck murmured huskily to Amy, breathing in her perfume. "I thought you had to get rid of..." WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! WHOOP!!! "Amy? Man, you..." "It's gami out of the others. "Base ships. Lucifer. Awkward scenes with my kid. For crying out loud, it's like she blames me for not being there. First adult tooth. First date. First time demolishing the car. For crying out loud, one little wormhole puts you on the other side of the galaxy for 30 years..." "YAHRENS!!!!" shouted several voices. "Get a life, folks. One little wormhole, and it's like her childhood was devalued. Man, it's been a real pain in the landing bay." "Do landing bays actually hurt?" asked Murdock, reclining on one of the benches, and eating from a bowl of rice balanced on his chest with curved chopsticks. "I mean, that is a really intriguing question. After all, does anyone really stop to consider things from the landing bay's point of view? I may strike up a support group." "For Alpha Bay or Beta Bay?" Face asked, stretched out on a longseat with Athena, stroking her hair. "Don't encourage him, Faceman!" BA warned him. "A good question, Face Guy "When did you learn to fly, Face?" BA shook his head from the passenger area, muttering to himself. "Right. You really think that the Faceman is going to fly this thing out of here. This I have to see!" He giggled as he deposited the fool into a seat and watched Amy help Chameleon belt up. "You're cutting it kind of close, kid," Hannibal muttered around his cigar as the aircraft began shuttling down the runway, a fleet of network Censors snapping at their tails, kept at bay by the previously heretofore above- mentioned writers. "I like it close." "Oh yeahhhhh!" rasped Amy. Starbuck grinned, reaching over and grabbing Hannibal's cigar, and placing it between his teeth. He pulled back on the yoke and the plane was airborne. "Yeeeeeeeeeehawwwww!!!" "Nice, Face.I mean Starbuck." Hannibal chuckled. "This `Area 51' we're looking for.how do I find it. I'm not that familiar with Earth." "Uh." Hannibal glanced at him again. "You're really serious about tDecker!" BA yelled, suddenly regretting his hasty actions as he nudged Murdock with the toe of his boot. The pilot began to snore where he lay upon the tarmac as a fleet of cars with flashing lights on top began racing towards them at breakneck speed. "That's not Decker!" Hannibal shouted. "It's the Censors!" "Sensors?" Starbuck asked, "what kind of sensors? Cylon?" "The kind that take a nice family show like ours and blast it into TV Oblivion." Murdock sat up for a moment staring into space, "Then next year, they realize that they screwed up big time canceling us, and come out with a show called The B-Team." He dropped back to the ground insensate. "But the only one they can get to come back to the show is Amy." BA grunted. "Or Robert Vaughn," said Murdock, double-checking his meds. "Man, ain't that NBC all over!" "Hey!" Amy sat up sharply in the back of the Vette. "I heard that!" "Ohhhh." Starbuck groaned, "I felt that." She lea," Murdock grinned. "Now going by personalities ..." "A landing bay don't have no personality!" "That's where you're wrong, Mudsucker," Murdock replied. "After all, Alpha Bay gets most of the attention and action. While Beta Bay gets ..." "C'mon," said Amy. "That was because of the way they keep reusing stock footage. Blame ABC, I say." "Kind of unfair towards the stock footage, isn't it?" asked Murdock, spinning his now-empty rice bowl on the tip of one chopstick and air-guitaring at the same time, which is admittedly somewhat difficult to do well. "I mean ..." "Shut up, Fool!" barked B.A, jumping to his feet. The ship seemed to dip in response. "I do believe the ship just cowered in reaction to BA's foul and temperamental disposition!" Murdock defended his theory, whilst, and at the same time, switching to air-zithering. "I'll show you foul and temperamental, Fool!" I really wish he'd quit saying that. Someone make him quit saying that! "Thhis Faceman-I mean spaceman-bit aren't you?" "Yep." "Head for Las Vegas. It's northwest of Vegas." Hannibal told him. "Vegas?" Starbuck asked. "Sin City. It's the largest center of gambling in the United States." Hannibal told him, pulling out a navigational chart with two `x's marked on it. One for Las Vegas, the other for Area 51. "Handy," he grinned at the unlikely coincidence. Starbuck grinned back. "Sounds like fun. Hey, wait a centon. Didn't we forget the Silver Cross?" "Damn!" The Silver Cross. The souped up pram that Starbuck was going to race in the Perambulator 500 once they went through the wormhole. They had left it in the back of the Vette! "Don't worry. We'll get American Courier to send it up. It should arrive." Hannibal glanced at his watch. "Yesterday." "Good service." Starbuck remarked. "Buy American, Buckers. Always." Suddenly, a flashing bright sign caught their attention. AREA 51, this exit. ned down a gave him a kiss, "You'll come back and do a cameo role though, won't you, Face? The Return Of Faceman." "I can see it now." Starbuck grinned ruefully. "I'm all alone inside a beachhouse." "The only place you gonna be seein' the inside of is Leavenworth if we don't figure out a way out of here, Face!" said Hannibal. "Leavenworth? Is that good?" Starbuck asked Amy. "All depends if it's Leavenworth, Washington-that cute little Bavarian Style tourist trap-or the Federal Prison in Kansas." Amy replied. "Personally, I'll take the tourist trap. The Hotel Eidelweiss has great German sausage. Say, where's my bra?" "Where's my bra?" said someone. "So which Leavenworth..." "The bad one," mumbled Murdock, from the ground. "Should I ask?" "I think he means the prison, Face." Amy admitted. "Can't we just take the Vette?" "Face, you're just not getting into the spirit of the show. With the Censors on the way, we now must find another is is weird,' said Jolly, utterly without segue (which makes it a non-sequiter). "Somehow, I ended up with last episode's script." "Strange," said Baltar, with a small video screen perched on one shoulder, on which was displayed a Headless Red-Eye. "I have the one before that. How odd." "Maybe, but weren't you supposed to be watching for the script girl? You should have seen which ones were delivered. You should have seen the guy that got mine!" "How do you know it was a guy, Jolly?" asked Adama. "They wrote it that way, Commander." Lucifer laughed, somewhere. Then, a loud curse announced that he'd tripped over Muffit, but that's not important right now. Unless you're Muffit. We really don't care about Lucifer. "Hey, Starbuck," said a voice. "Yeah?" answered the Viper pilot, disengaging from Cassie, as Chameleon pushed him away. "Your hoverglider is here," said the voice. "Super duper. But what took so long?" asked Starbuck. "I can"Wow, great directions. Not to mention short flights. I swear, the flight indicators are so good here you don't even need to know where you're going." Starbuck murmured, highly impressed. "What the hell did you think this was? Canada or something? You're in the good 'ol US of `A' now, kid." Hannibal smiled, grabbing his cigar out of the Lieutenant's mouth. "Take us in for a landing." The plane landed smoothly, and the two men walked back into the cabin where Murdock was sipping on a Shirley Temple, and BA sat catatonic beside him. Amy leaned in front of the big man. "C'mon, BA. Snap out of it!" She slapped him. "She's kind of .physical, isn't she?" Starbuck murmured, a wicked grin on his lips. "Amy?" Hannibal asked. "Put her down, Lieutenant." Starbuck lifted his hands innocently. "I didn't do anything. I'm not even near her!" "Oh, but I know you're planning on it." "I thought you loved it when a plan came together, Hannibal?" Starbuck asked w way to escape them. It would be redundant to just climb back into the Vette-not to mention uncomfortable." Hannibal explained impatiently. "Actually, it's not as bad as I first thought." Starbuck grinned up at Amy. "In fact, it was great!" "Starbuck, do an old man a favor, and get off me!" Chameleon murmured from beneath the floor mat. "BA." Hannibal barked. BA returned to the Vette, grabbing hold of Amy and lifting her easily from the sardine can-I mean sports car-and placing her on her feet. He grabbed Starbuck by the tunic and hauled him out behind her, dumping him unceremoniously on the ground beside her. "I can manage, Mr. Baracus." Chameleon told the big man with a weak smile. "Hannibal, what we gonna do, man?" BA asked. Though the cars should have been there by now, the longwinded-ness of the writers had somehow magically delayed their arrival. "Hey, what are those?" Starbuck pointed to the nearest plane. "They have wings; they must fly." His e't imagine," replied RDM, drink in hand. "Man, I hate it when a plan doesn't come together," grumbled Hannibal. "You said it, Cheroot Breath," said Belloby. I wonder where the new scripts are? "He said, I wonder where the new scripts are!" Hannibal yelled out. He shook his head in disgust at Chameleon. "Geez Fred, these young people." "I'm rather fond of them, myself," Chameleon replied, glancing at the hatchway as Apollo stumbled in. The Strike Captain was breathless and covered in a shiny pink gelatinous ... substance. "Captain, you're getting it on the carpet!" Belloby chastised him as a large dollop of goo gave in to gravity. "How disgusting!" The floor is linoleum. "Detail Nazi!" "Dear Lord!" Adama cried. "Apollo! What happened?" "There's a Spammer on the Galactica!" Apollo replied, resting a hand on the wall to hold himself up. "I was investigating the attack on one of our most distinguished members when he ... it ... whatever ryly, winking at Amy. She winked back, incidentally. "Not in this incidence, Lieutenant." He strode towards BA. "Up, BA!" "BA is down. Down went BA. And he won't come back till yesterday." Murdock murmured in sing song. "Uh ." Starbuck began. "Don't ask." Hannibal returned. "Don't ask me how, don't ask me why, I'll tell you now, he hates to fly." Murdock continued. "Is there a way to stop him?" Starbuck asked. "Anti-psychotics usually help." Amy countered. "Actually, he reminds me a bit of a famous Colonial children's story by Dr. Seusson." Starbuck mused, grinning at his childhood memory. "Green Ova and Porcine." Starbuck added. "I do not like green ova and porcine, I do not like them, Sam-I-Horstine." Murdock chanted. "You know it!" Starbuck enthused. "That's great!" "Sam-I-Horstine?" Hannibal asked. BA grabbed Starbuck by the shoulders and jerked him forward until they were nose to nose. "Don't encourage him, Sucka!" yes sparkled as he strode towards the nearest plane, the gangway conveniently lowered for easy access, thanks to one of the previously heretofore above-mentioned writers." "Is he kidding, Hannibal?" BA asked. "He's a pilot, your know." Chameleon added with pride. "I won't even board a plane willingly with Murdock! D'ya think I'm gonna let Face fly me anywhere?" BA snarled. "Stop fooling around, Face. We need a plan." Hannibal groused, following the Lieutenant onto the plane. "Face! Are you listening to me? Face!" "Hey, this looks like something someone put together from mushie boxes," Starbuck muttered as he tucked his tunic back into his pants. He sat down in the pilot's seat of the cockpit. "Lords, I'm actually sitting in a mechanized fossil." "BA, get everyone in!" Hannibal ordered the sergeant as he watched Face start going through the motions of starting the engines. One of them whined, then began to spin. The second prop followed a few moments later.... got me." "What did he, it, whatever look like?" asked Hannibal. "It happened too fast. Then something hard hit me in the head ... " Apollo touched his forehead, a nasty bump beginning to form there. "Lords, I hate it when the Spammers forget to take it out of the can," Boomer murmured. "Starbuck," Adama said, directing him to Apollo. "You're the expert." "I'm on it, sir," Starbuck murmured, moving closer to his friend. He grabbed a chair, shoving it towards the exhausted looking warrior. "Take a load off, buddy." "Thanks, Starbuck," Apollo said, collapsing into the chair. He promptly slipped right off and fell onto the deck. "Oh, frack!" "Slicker than a greased porcine," Starbuck said, squatting down beside the captain. He wriggled his nose, poking at the gelatinous substance. "You even smell porcine." "Not looking good," Jolly shook his head sceptically. Starbuck nodded in agreement, then he slowly raised a finger to his mouth, lo "Let me go, or I'll take the Silver Cross and stuff it up your nose." Starbuck returned. "You do and I'll have your baby!" purred Amy. BA studied him for a moment, a memory of the smaller man coldcocking him back in the apartment flooding back to him, and then BA let him go. "I don't get it Hannibal. He looks just like Face, he acts a lot like Face, but Face would never take me on." "You're saying he's not as smart as Face?" Hannibal asked, shaking his head at the conman or spaceman, he still wasn't really sure which. Best damn scam that Face ever came up with if it is a scam. Too bad it's us he's scamming. "Maybe." BA replied quietly, but generally he had the feeling that even though he probably had a good 70 or 80 pounds on the blond Lieutenant, that Starbuck would indeed try to stuff the souped up pram up his nose. "Come on, let's move out. If there really is a wormhole here, it might take a while to find it." Hannibal told them. "Uh..." Starbuck "When did you learn to fly, Face?" BA shook his head from the passenger area, muttering to himself. "Right. You really think that the Faceman is going to fly this thing out of here. This I have to see!" He giggled as he deposited the fool into a seat and watched Amy help Chameleon belt up. "You're cutting it kind of close, kid," Hannibal muttered around his cigar as the aircraft began shuttling down the runway, a fleet of network Censors snapping at their tails, kept at bay by the previously heretofore above- mentioned writers. "I like it close." "Oh yeahhhhh!" rasped Amy. Starbuck grinned, reaching over and grabbing Hannibal's cigar, and placing it between his teeth. He pulled back on the yoke and the plane was airborne. "Yeeeeeeeeeehawwwww!!!" "Nice, Face.I mean Starbuck." Hannibal chuckled. "This `Area 51' we're looking for.how do I find it. I'm not that familiar with Earth." "Uh." Hannibal glanced at him again. "You're really serious about toking at it distastefully before he licked it. He shuddered dramatically then looked up at Jolly. "Jolly, I think I need a second opinion." "Ah, Starbuck! Do I have to?" Jolly whined. "Yep," Starbuck said, watching with an amused looked as the heavy set lieutenant dragged himself reluctantly over. "After all, I only cede to your expertise in Spam identification." "And forgetting the kids, don't forget," said Boxey. "Traitor!" hissed Jolly. "Why are Starbuck and Jolly so expert?" Murdock asked. "They're both orphans, which means they were raised on Spam," Adama told him. "Those boys can detect Spam at a hundred metrons and be in a Viper flying in the opposite direction within thirty microns of detection." "Twenty," Starbuck corrected him. "I don't even need a Viper," Jolly said aside. "Oh, Faceman!" Murdock called him. "Maybe you could help." "Sorry, Murdock, no Spam has passed these lips since the sixties." He covered his stomach with pointed to the neon sign about a hundred metrons away that said, Wormhole, this way. "He's good, Hannibal. We should put him on point." BA muttered. "Faceman's good, Faceman's smart, Amy wants him in the dark." "Put her down, Lieutenant!" Hannibal snapped, alerted to the start of another heated embrace behind the American Courier van that had just pulled up to deliver the Silver Cross. "Hey, you're late. This should have been here yesterday." Hannibal told the driver. So call FedEx next time. The vertically challenged courier driver held up his sign. "Hey, didn't we leave you in the garage in LA?" Hannibal asked. Overlooked again. The story of my life. Hey, I needed a gig that actually pays something. He pushed the souped up pram out of the van, climbed back in the driver's seat, handed Murdock the last slice of pizza, and took off. "I think we've almost satisfied all the dangling plot points." Hannibal murmured.. "Wormhole." BA reminded him.his Faceman-I mean spaceman-bit aren't you?" "Yep." "Head for Las Vegas. It's northwest of Vegas." Hannibal told him. "Vegas?" Starbuck asked. "Sin City. It's the largest center of gambling in the United States." Hannibal told him, pulling out a navigational chart with two `x's marked on it. One for Las Vegas, the other for Area 51. "Handy," he grinned at the unlikely coincidence. Starbuck grinned back. "Sounds like fun. Hey, wait a centon. Didn't we forget the Silver Cross?" "Damn!" The Silver Cross. The souped up pram that Starbuck was going to race in the Perambulator 500 once they went through the wormhole. They had left it in the back of the Vette! "Don't worry. We'll get American Courier to send it up. It should arrive." Hannibal glanced at his watch. "Yesterday." "Good service." Starbuck remarked. "Buy American, Buckers. Always." Suddenly, a flashing bright sign caught their attention. AREA 51, this exit. "Wow, great directions. Not to mention short flights. I swear, the flight indicators are so good here you don't even need to know where you're going." Starbuck murmured, highly impressed. "What the hell did you think this was? Canada or something? You're in the good 'ol US of `A' now, kid." Hannibal smiled, grabbing his cigar out of the Lieutenant's mouth. "Take us in for a landing." The plane landed smoothly, and the two men walked back into the cabin where Murdock was sipping on a Shirley Temple, and BA sat catatonic beside him. Amy leaned in front of the big man. "C'mon, BA. Snap out of it!" She slapped him. "She's kind of .physical, isn't she?" Starbuck murmured, a wicked grin on his lips. "Amy?" Hannibal asked. "Put her down, Lieutenant." Starbuck lifted his hands innocently. "I didn't do anything. I'm not even near her!" "Oh, but I know you're planning on it." "I thought you loved it when a plan came together, Hannibal?" Starbuck asked whis hand. "My constitution is too delicate." "Well, Jolly?" Commander Adama asked. Jolly popped a taste into his mouth, grimacing in disgust. "We ought to get danger pay for this. It's Spam, alright." "But who would do this?" Athena asked. "And why?" WHO is the Galactica Spammer? WHY is he, it, whatever, doing this? DO landing bays actually have feelings? WILL Apollo recover and resume his search? DOES it really matter? WHY is porcine in a can so popular, anyhow? HOW did they ever get it into the turbo....uh, can, in the first place? CAN Baltar really have the wrong script? WHAT is RDM drinking? WILL Dayton ever work it out with his kids? HOW does the Butler Guy get those cards printed so fast? For the answers to several questions, none of which I just mentioned, tune in again for the next kinetic energy-saturated, sphincteriferously vacuous episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Be here, when we'll hear Cassie say: "What did you think I meant by 'wrecked him' "Right." They advanced on the double doors cautiously. They must have stood at least three stories high-Green Ova and Porcine, How The Grinchon Stole Natal Day, Korax the Lorax-and the way seemed unsurpassable. Thank goodness the doors were wide open. "How we going to squeeze through those tiny doors, Hannibal?" BA asked. "It's like trying to go through a rabbit hole into Wonderland." "Could we try and rip off one story at a time, BA." Hannibal asked. "Sorry, Colonel." "Alright, Sergeant. Face, into the rabbit hole. I mean, under the doors." Hannibal ordered him. "Starbuck," the Warrior reminded them. "Right. Do you have any sma...wormhole experience, Lieutenant?" Hannibal asked. "Yeah, a while back it seemed someone was popping through a wormhole at least every other chronicle. Then there was Hummer's vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el- mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside. Can't fryly, winking at Amy. She winked back, incidentally. "Not in this incidence, Lieutenant." He strode towards BA. "Up, BA!" "BA is down. Down went BA. And he won't come back till yesterday." Murdock murmured in sing song. "Uh ." Starbuck began. "Don't ask." Hannibal returned. "Don't ask me how, don't ask me why, I'll tell you now, he hates to fly." Murdock continued. "Is there a way to stop him?" Starbuck asked. "Anti-psychotics usually help." Amy countered. "Actually, he reminds me a bit of a famous Colonial children's story by Dr. Seusson." Starbuck mused, grinning at his childhood memory. "Green Ova and Porcine." Starbuck added. "I do not like green ova and porcine, I do not like them, Sam-I-Horstine." Murdock chanted. "You know it!" Starbuck enthused. "That's great!" "Sam-I-Horstine?" Hannibal asked. BA grabbed Starbuck by the shoulders and jerked him forward until they were nose to nose. "Don't encourage him, Sucka!" "? *************** Part 96 The Starbuck Chronicles, Part 96 When last we left our heroes (hey, not my fault it's been so long! Put down those pitchforks!), Commander Adama had tasked Jolly to determine if the Spam found aboard the Galactica was, in fact, Spam. With that, Starbuck in tow, and Boxey chiding him for forgetting the kids, his plate was full. While this was going on, Murdock was demonstrating how to air-zither, while Chameleon and Amy...well, you can guess. Belloby was, as usual, being crass and rude, and Baltar was wondering why he had the wrong script, and the Butler Guy was getting some new cards. Then... "Hey!" said Dayton, suddenly, slapping a script against his leg, which was uncalled for, since the script hadn't done anything. "Hey, what?" asked Apollo, wiping the gelatinous pink substance out of his once-perfect 70s hair. "Did you read this, Hatch...uh, Apollo? These re-writes?" "Sure. In between my eyes being covered in smelly poorget that." Starbuck replied. "Not with the writers bringing it up every five episodes without fail." Chameleon added. "If I can enter the wormhole with the Silver Cross, I should make it to the Perambulator 500 in milli-centons." Starbuck told them, easily sliding his body beneath the doors. Let's go." "Check the perimeter first, Lieutenant." Hannibal barked, leaning down and peering into the darkness. "Face?" "Holy frack, what in Hades Hole was that?" Starbuck's voice cried out. "What do you see, Lieutenant?" "That's just it, I can't see a thing! Do you have an illuminator, Hannibal?" "A what?" "A light?" Starbuck replied "Does a zippo count?" Hannibal asked, passing his lighter through the tiny doors. "Perhaps the question should be, how high can a zippo count?" Murdock inserted. "Or at least I think that's what the Count said." "Stark raving mad." Chameleon nudged Amy. "What do you see, Starbuck?" "Uh... something's m "Let me go, or I'll take the Silver Cross and stuff it up your nose." Starbuck returned. "You do and I'll have your baby!" purred Amy. BA studied him for a moment, a memory of the smaller man coldcocking him back in the apartment flooding back to him, and then BA let him go. "I don't get it Hannibal. He looks just like Face, he acts a lot like Face, but Face would never take me on." "You're saying he's not as smart as Face?" Hannibal asked, shaking his head at the conman or spaceman, he still wasn't really sure which. Best damn scam that Face ever came up with if it is a scam. Too bad it's us he's scamming. "Maybe." BA replied quietly, but generally he had the feeling that even though he probably had a good 70 or 80 pounds on the blond Lieutenant, that Starbuck would indeed try to stuff the souped up pram up his nose. "Come on, let's move out. If there really is a wormhole here, it might take a while to find it." Hannibal told them. "Uh..." Starbuck rcine fat, and itching with this new beard. I've been reading lots of stuff." Like what? Spinoza, again? "Can it, Shorty!" snarled Apollo. I thought Spam came in cans, Captain. BLAM! "This is just intolerable!" said Dayton, waving the script. "Like, what's eating ya, Mark 'ol boy?" asked Ryan, spreading some mayo on a slice of Spam. "Zaz! You read this? She's killed me off? I come back from Mars, I save the world, hell, I even get to quote Cicero to the UN, and what does she do?" "Stiff ya for the bill at Starbucks?" "No, Beach-Bum Breath! She's killed me off!" "Man, that had to hurt!" said Chameleon. "No more than Apollo suddenly sprouting that Chia Pet on his face, French Vanilla Senior," Dayton replied, glancing more closely at the Captain. "That wasn't there in Part 95. I'm sure of it." "As sure as you're dead in the Empyrean Series?" Apollo asked, using his fingernails to groom the Spam from his newly materialized beard. oving in here, but I can't quite make it out. Lords, what the frack...!! Aarrgghh!" "We're coming in, Lieutenant!" Hannibal hollered, getting down on his knees and getting ready to crawl through the tiny doors. "I'm getting too damn old for this crap. Let's go everyone." "Hurry, Hannibal!" Starbuck yelled suddenly. "C'mon, BA." Hannibal yelled. "Hold it, Colonel. I have some jacks, a few pebbles, a toilet paper roll, and a Frisbee. I'm just going to make us a spotlight so we can see what's going on. But I'm going to need your help." BA told him. "BA, I have some lint, a baseball card, a sock puppet, the Guiness Book of World Records, an elastic band, a red button, and an old grenade. Do you think we could build something to rip a bigger hole in these doors so we can get the Silver Cross into the passageway?" Murdock asked. "No problem, Murdock," said MacGyver. "I don't think we'll need the grenade though. I'm thoroughly opposed to violence, you know." pointed to the neon sign about a hundred metrons away that said, Wormhole, this way. "He's good, Hannibal. We should put him on point." BA muttered. "Faceman's good, Faceman's smart, Amy wants him in the dark." "Put her down, Lieutenant!" Hannibal snapped, alerted to the start of another heated embrace behind the American Courier van that had just pulled up to deliver the Silver Cross. "Hey, you're late. This should have been here yesterday." Hannibal told the driver. So call FedEx next time. The vertically challenged courier driver held up his sign. "Hey, didn't we leave you in the garage in LA?" Hannibal asked. Overlooked again. The story of my life. Hey, I needed a gig that actually pays something. He pushed the souped up pram out of the van, climbed back in the driver's seat, handed Murdock the last slice of pizza, and took off. "I think we've almost satisfied all the dangling plot points." Hannibal murmured.. "Wormhole." BA reminded him. "Ooh, touchy about the beard!" Ryan accused him. "How one guy could take so much flack for growing a little facial hair ..." Apollo shook his head incredulously. "Sheba likes it." "Who cares? You're messing with an iconic image, beloved to millions of Battlestar Galactica fans worldwide," Murdock explained in an upper crust accent, moving over to the captain and enshrouding his head in hot towels. Someone made a rude noise of scatological derivation. "Now now, let's be civil. Music please." On cue the jaunty sound of the Barber of Seville Overture filled the room. Starbuck, Jolly and Boxey burst in the door as Cassie asked Chameleon, "What did you think I meant by 'wrecked him'?" "We've found the Spammers!" Jolly announced. "It's the DOAC!" "Oh no!" said Cassie. "NOT the DOAC! It couldn't be the DOAC! ANYbody but the DOAC!!!!!" She looked at Starbuck. "Starbuck?" "Yeah?" "Who's the DOAC?" "What the hell is the DOAC?" Dayton asked, oblivious to t "Ah, Rick? What are you doing in this show?" "Well, George, the producer handed me a script..." "Producer?" "Uh huh. Said he needed a guest star. I mean, hey. Ten bucks is ten bucks." "Producer? Bulbous transparent head, sighs a lot, hates Baltar?" "Yeah. You know him?" "Yeah. Ron Moore. Been drinking again, I'll bet. No, your show is over on Stage 347." "Ooops. Sorry, George." "No problem, Rick. Drinks after work?" "Oh yeah." (Insert theme music and a good minute of BA, Hannibal and Murdock building the spotlight and elastic band explosive while Chameleon and Amy waltz in the background.) "I said, Aarrgghh!!" Starbuck reminded them vociferously from within the dark, double doors. "Leto!" a mysterious voice shouted. "We're coming, kid!" Hannibal yelled. "Ready, BA?" "Ready, Hannibal." BA shouted, standing behind the fire wall and pressing a red button. A huge explosion ripped a massive hole into the wall, op "Right." They advanced on the double doors cautiously. They must have stood at least three stories high-Green Ova and Porcine, How The Grinchon Stole Natal Day, Korax the Lorax-and the way seemed unsurpassable. Thank goodness the doors were wide open. "How we going to squeeze through those tiny doors, Hannibal?" BA asked. "It's like trying to go through a rabbit hole into Wonderland." "Could we try and rip off one story at a time, BA." Hannibal asked. "Sorry, Colonel." "Alright, Sergeant. Face, into the rabbit hole. I mean, under the doors." Hannibal ordered him. "Starbuck," the Warrior reminded them. "Right. Do you have any sma...wormhole experience, Lieutenant?" Hannibal asked. "Yeah, a while back it seemed someone was popping through a wormhole at least every other chronicle. Then there was Hummer's vortex-spanning sci-fi, super-duper, el- mucho macho, uber he'enalu board, with the McGarrett Rocks! sticker on the underside. Can't fhe preceding, as he was scowling at his script. Try as he might, he could not find "DOAC" in it. "And how could this possibly be more important than me being dead?" "You make a lot of noise for a dead guy, fool!" BA exclaimed. "I'll show you dead!" "It's the Defenders of Apollo's Cheekbones," Starbuck explained as a group of robed women followed them into the room pushing a portable barber's chair. "Seems the Priestesses are back, and have got a new gig!" "Bwahahahahaha!!!!!" said Belloby. "At least it wasn't the Inquisition," sighed Ryan. "Frankly, no one expects the Inquisition." I did. "Crying out loud, you again, Stumps?" "Why are they taking it out on me?" wailed Apollo in a muffled voice, unaware of the group of scantily-clad women, surrounding him with sonic shavers. They pulled him to his feet. "Blame the writers!" "Ever tried to squeeze a can of Spam through a four inch letter slot?" "That's 10.16 centimetrons, Belloby!" said Athenaening up a space more than adequate for accommodating the Silver Cross. "Nice, BA." Hannibal grinned. "Thanks, Hannibal," BA nodded, activating the spotlight only to reveal... "Holy Hanoi!" yelled Murdock. Within the previously secured room was a Dirk Pitt-Lords, where did that come from??-I mean, a titanic dirt pit holding an immense Sandworm about the length of a blue whale, its mouth gaping open as it nosed its way around the pit, its head moving from side to side, looking for its prey. "This isn't quite the wormhole we had in mind, is it?" Hannibal muttered as he watched the Lieutenant, who had obviously fallen in the pit, scramble to stay ahead of the writhing beast. "I'm NOT going through that wormhole!" Starbuck yelled, the fetid smell of the worm right behind him. "Ain't no way I'm Dune it!" "Where's your sense of adventure, Starbuck?" Murdock asked. "Let's just say that when I pop out the other side of that wormhole, I'm going to find myseorget that." Starbuck replied. "Not with the writers bringing it up every five episodes without fail." Chameleon added. "If I can enter the wormhole with the Silver Cross, I should make it to the Perambulator 500 in milli-centons." Starbuck told them, easily sliding his body beneath the doors. Let's go." "Check the perimeter first, Lieutenant." Hannibal barked, leaning down and peering into the darkness. "Face?" "Holy frack, what in Hades Hole was that?" Starbuck's voice cried out. "What do you see, Lieutenant?" "That's just it, I can't see a thing! Do you have an illuminator, Hannibal?" "A what?" "A light?" Starbuck replied "Does a zippo count?" Hannibal asked, passing his lighter through the tiny doors. "Perhaps the question should be, how high can a zippo count?" Murdock inserted. "Or at least I think that's what the Count said." "Stark raving mad." Chameleon nudged Amy. "What do you see, Starbuck?" "Uh... something's mlf in deep mong." Starbuck yelled back. ******* "Someone's gonna be in deep mong if we don't get back in the show!" growled Igraine, somewhere off-screen. "Right, Mom?" "Yeah!" "Boxey, got any more mushies?" ******************* HOW will the team save Starbuck? IS there another door with another wormhole? HOW did the Butler Guy get there so fast? WHERE does he get all those cards printed? WHAT is the giant, ugly, hideous worm they have just found? WHO shouted "Leto"? FOR that matter, who is Leto? WILL the censors find them? WHO wrote Imperious Leader's material? (Not me! No way, folks! Uh-uhh!) DOES the Butler Guy have any more pizza? DOES Boxey have any more mushies? WILL Amy really have Starbuck's baby? For the answers to these, and other pertinaciously obfuscated questions, be sure and catch the next obsequiously recalcitrant episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear The Padishah Emperor, Shaddam IV say, "Bring in that floating fat man. S. "Can it, Sweet Cheeks! Aren't you late for an ultrasound? Anyway, Apollo, they couldn't Spam Sen sufficiently, so they picked on you," Belloby explained. "At least that what the script says." "Are we really going to let them do this to him?" Hannibal asked, smoking his stogie as the hot-towelled Apollo was pushed into the barber's chair and reclined. "After all, he is a hero figure." "I agree," said Murdock, now sitting on the floor, surrounded by blobs of porcine goo, and air-rowing. "Amy, am I headed upstream?" "What's the worst that could happen?" Starbuck shrugged. "You mean aside from Colonel Decker showing up, dressed like a Nomen?" "Well, yeah. That." "Well," Murdock said, conducting an imaginary orchestra as the Barber of Seville played on, "He could come out looking like Elmer Fudd." "I never expected that!" slurred RDM. Go figure. "There's something we're missing here," said Jolly. "And it isn't the Prellon hair products they menoving in here, but I can't quite make it out. Lords, what the frack...!! Aarrgghh!" "We're coming in, Lieutenant!" Hannibal hollered, getting down on his knees and getting ready to crawl through the tiny doors. "I'm getting too damn old for this crap. Let's go everyone." "Hurry, Hannibal!" Starbuck yelled suddenly. "C'mon, BA." Hannibal yelled. "Hold it, Colonel. I have some jacks, a few pebbles, a toilet paper roll, and a Frisbee. I'm just going to make us a spotlight so we can see what's going on. But I'm going to need your help." BA told him. "BA, I have some lint, a baseball card, a sock puppet, the Guiness Book of World Records, an elastic band, a red button, and an old grenade. Do you think we could build something to rip a bigger hole in these doors so we can get the Silver Cross into the passageway?" Murdock asked. "No problem, Murdock," said MacGyver. "I don't think we'll need the grenade though. I'm thoroughly opposed to violence, you know." ire Uri!" Or, depending upon which rewrites get delivered first, you might hear Siress Belloby scree...uh, say, "When do my priestesses and I get some more screen time? I'm paying for these re-writes you know!" With apologies to Dr. Seusson. ======= "The XFiles get rated 'R' " will not be seen at this time. In it's place we present something that should have been filed somewhere else. The Starbuck Chronicles Part Eighty-One By Lisa, w/Senmut The new act wasn't exactly anything to comm home about, Apollo mused, as he checked his chrono and order another double... whatever it was. However, the Lost Souls Bar, Grill, and Exotic Booze Emporium wasn't exactly known for its stellar performances on Amateur Night. He gave half a thought to getting up there himself and singing a tune. The other half was too toasted to bother. He couldn't be any worse than this guy. He was middle-aged and slightly portly, which was better than starboard-ly, the Captain chuckled to himstioned in the last episode." "You mean like how I get these rewrites changed?" said Dayton. "After all, I had plans for Cassie and me in that continuum." He snorted. "More barbecues out back. Time-travel back to meet some of my ancestors. Updating my book club membership. Lots of sex." "Well..." Cassie began, smiling slightly, taking hold of Dayton's....script. "Can we watch?" asked Amy and Chameleon together. "Shut up, fools!" rumbled BA. "No, none of that," said Jolly. "Hey, Jolly's not a fool!" shouted Boxey. "Sure, he lost us in that other series that they never finished, but he's not a fool. Fool!" "Something..." Jolly went on. You mean it being Wabbit season? "Duck Season!" "Who said that?" Who said that? "I don't think it's the Inquisition," said Adama, dropping his paper. Igranie, Vela, Miri, and a few we haven't mentioned in a while looked around, and... WHAT did they all see? WHO said that? WHY this latest inan "Ah, Rick? What are you doing in this show?" "Well, George, the producer handed me a script..." "Producer?" "Uh huh. Said he needed a guest star. I mean, hey. Ten bucks is ten bucks." "Producer? Bulbous transparent head, sighs a lot, hates Baltar?" "Yeah. You know him?" "Yeah. Ron Moore. Been drinking again, I'll bet. No, your show is over on Stage 347." "Ooops. Sorry, George." "No problem, Rick. Drinks after work?" "Oh yeah." (Insert theme music and a good minute of BA, Hannibal and Murdock building the spotlight and elastic band explosive while Chameleon and Amy waltz in the background.) "I said, Aarrgghh!!" Starbuck reminded them vociferously from within the dark, double doors. "Leto!" a mysterious voice shouted. "We're coming, kid!" Hannibal yelled. "Ready, BA?" "Ready, Hannibal." BA shouted, standing behind the fire wall and pressing a red button. A huge explosion ripped a massive hole into the wall, opelf as he tipped the barman and swallowed down a full third of his bottle of ale. The barman got up, cleaned off the broken glass and spilled booze, snarled at Apollo, but did nothing. The Captain looked at the label. Seemed to be one of those Empyrean brews that had been infiltrating the Fleet for the last eighteen sectars, ever since they had uncovered the Zaza labels, several alternate universes back, in another storyline. He swallowed it down and ordered some grog for a chaser. Right, the new act... Yeah, the guy was kinda blurry around the edges now that Apollo really took a good look at him. His hair was dark, with a bit of grey at the temples, and he wore a dark green tunic and pants that kind of reminded him of something Baltar might wear. Wait a centon! The man droned on, telling the story of some General McArthuron. Apollo had to admit he had a good speaking voice, but the subject matter was hardly captivating because the little green man-uh, the man wearing the ge plot twist? HOW can we justify yet another of these Chrons? DO any of you even care? IS there any chance Eric will read this one? WHEN will Apollo get the porcine goo out of his face and beard? WHERE will the Horney Priestesses finally lose their robes? WHY did Belloby go "Bwahahahahaha"? WILL we ever get to the end? CAN the Empyrean series (full of wonderful plotting and extremely well-drawn characters, thanks to all the beta-ing) be revived, and Dayton's script fixed? ISN'T it time we got to the last bit? For the answers to these, and other questions (like you really trust us to do that???), make sure to catch the next Platonic universally, (Stygianlly) stultiferous episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear one of the horny Priestesses say--- "Ooops! Where did it go?" ====== ening up a space more than adequate for accommodating the Silver Cross. "Nice, BA." Hannibal grinned. "Thanks, Hannibal," BA nodded, activating the spotlight only to reveal... "Holy Hanoi!" yelled Murdock. Within the previously secured room was a Dirk Pitt-Lords, where did that come from??-I mean, a titanic dirt pit holding an immense Sandworm about the length of a blue whale, its mouth gaping open as it nosed its way around the pit, its head moving from side to side, looking for its prey. "This isn't quite the wormhole we had in mind, is it?" Hannibal muttered as he watched the Lieutenant, who had obviously fallen in the pit, scramble to stay ahead of the writhing beast. "I'm NOT going through that wormhole!" Starbuck yelled, the fetid smell of the worm right behind him. "Ain't no way I'm Dune it!" "Where's your sense of adventure, Starbuck?" Murdock asked. "Let's just say that when I pop out the other side of that wormhole, I'm going to find mysereen outfit- was slurring his words. He kind of sounded like Baltar... "Another drink, mate?" "Yeah. One of those Emperor Ales." "Emperor?" "Yeah." "He's up next." "Who?" Apollo asked, his brows furrowed. "The Emperor." "What Emperor?' "The Padishah Emperor, Shaddam IV." "Padishah Emp'ror?" asked Apollo. "What's he doin?" "Exactly." "Oh." "So... what do you want to drink?" Apollo paused, thinking far too hard about it as he glanced at the stage. The little green man wasn't making much sense at all anymore. He shrugged. "Grog." A tankard was pushed in front of him. He took a long sip, and rested his heavy head on the crook of his arm. Yeah, the guy on stage kind of did look like Baltar, except Baltar was... on Cordugo Pit. Probably still in Sire Uri's Intimate Apparel and Fooling Around Paraphernalia Emporium. He closed his heavy eyes deciding that the guy was far too blurry to be Baltar anyhow. However, lf in deep mong." Starbuck yelled back. ******* "Someone's gonna be in deep mong if we don't get back in the show!" growled Igraine, somewhere off-screen. "Right, Mom?" "Yeah!" "Boxey, got any more mushies?" ******************* HOW will the team save Starbuck? IS there another door with another wormhole? HOW did the Butler Guy get there so fast? WHERE does he get all those cards printed? WHAT is the giant, ugly, hideous worm they have just found? WHO shouted "Leto"? FOR that matter, who is Leto? WILL the censors find them? WHO wrote Imperious Leader's material? (Not me! No way, folks! Uh-uhh!) DOES the Butler Guy have any more pizza? DOES Boxey have any more mushies? WILL Amy really have Starbuck's baby? For the answers to these, and other pertinaciously obfuscated questions, be sure and catch the next obsequiously recalcitrant episode of The Starbuck Chronicles. Tune in, when we'll hear The Padishah Emperor, Shaddam IV say, "Bring in that floating fat man. Sthat voice... that couldn't- be-Baltar-like voice... seemed to have a tranquility that was drawing him downward. Downward to a blissful, calm, peaceful, relaxing, untroubled, quiet, untroubled, restful, nirvanaesque, untroubled, really not bad, lulling insensateness that would be so refreshing after eighty episodes without sleep and several alcoholic beverages. Smack! "You can't sleep in here, mate. Not unless it's part of your act." "Huh?" Apollo asked. He glanced on stage to see the little green man was gone and another had replaced him. "Who's that?" "I already told ya, The Padishah Emperor, Shaddam IV." "What's his act?" The barman simply pointed at the Padishah Emperor, who was pointing at the audience and calling out, "Bring in that floating fat man. Sire Uri!" "Leto!" the mysterious voice called out again, making the very air rumble. "Who said that?" Hannibal asked, looking around the Dirk....uh, dirt pit that some-say-Starbuck, some-saire Uri!" Or, depending upon which rewrites get delivered first, you might hear Siress Belloby scree...uh, say, "When do my priestesses and I get some more screen time? I'm paying for these re-writes you know!" With apologies to Dr. Seusson. ======= "The XFiles get rated 'R' " will not be seen at this time. In it's place we present something that should have been filed somewhere else. The Starbuck Chronicles Part Eighty-One By Lisa, w/Senmut The new act wasn't exactly anything to comm home about, Apollo mused, as he checked his chrono and order another double... whatever it was. However, the Lost Souls Bar, Grill, and Exotic Booze Emporium wasn't exactly known for its stellar performances on Amateur Night. He gave half a thought to getting up there himself and singing a tune. The other half was too toasted to bother. He couldn't be any worse than this guy. He was middle-aged and slightly portly, which was better than starboard-ly, the Captain chuckled to hims