Just A Centon
                  By Lisa Zaza and Maggie Hutchison
                           January 2006

     Loud. 
     How could -- Boomer paused to make a quick estimate -- thirty kids
make this much noise? Of course, it didn't help that every little, tiny
sound anyone made reverberated and echoed throughout the landing bay of
the Orphan Ship. Add to that thirty screaming, hollering, laughing kids,
and the effect was...mind numbing, ear popping, head-splittingly loud.
     "Is it my turn?" The small voice was almost lost amid the din, but
Boomer felt a tug on his flight jacket and turned to stare down into pale
green eyes, with a delicate face framed by soft, auburn locks. 
     Easing her up the ladder and onto the nose of his ship, where he
sat, the lieutenant wrapped the girl - she couldn't have been more than
five yahrens old, he mused - into his arms. He switched his gaze to the
rambunctious, black-haired boy who sat inside the cockpit of his Viper,
lost in his imagination as he clearly zoomed among the stars. "Hey!"
Boomer yelled to be heard, "Time's up, buddy."
     For a micron, the boy looked crestfallen, but then he grinned and
scrambled out and down from the fighter, hopping from the edge of the
wing to the deck as if he were still in flight. As he eased the girl into
the cockpit, he caught a glimpse of the boy jumping into the next lineup
of kids. Apollo's viper, he noted briefly, before returning his attention
to the young girl. 
     As she slipped into the huge seat, however, her excitement seemed to
evaporate. Her eyes widened and her lips trembled. Suddenly, she was
screaming and grasping at Boomer's arms, her face livid red. The
lieutenant scooped her up, trying to pull her back into his arms.
Consumed with panic, she fought the comforting embrace with kicking feet,
slashing fingers, and a piercing, almost inhuman scream.
     "Whoa, whoa! It's okay!" Boomer struggled to maintain his balance
while trying to keep the terrified girl from falling, and at the same
time trying to pin her flailing limbs beneath his arms - anything to get
her to calm down before they both ended up on the deck. 
     "Let me!" The voice penetrated the girl's screeching, and through a
blur of flailing hands, sharp elbows and painful knees, Boomer caught
sight of the woman, one of the teachers.  "Cali, it's okay! Cali! Cali!"
At the sound of her name, the girl stopped screaming and seemed to
collapse into the teacher's arms. Cali buried her face into the woman's
shoulder, her small body wracked with silent sobs. 
     Boomer's ears rang with the sudden silence, as all eyes had been
focused on the struggle. He huffed, exhaling from the exertion, and
absently rubbed at his scratched cheek as he stared at the back of the
frightened child's head, feeling confused and incredulous that only a
micron earlier, she had been fighting with the strength of a caged vulpa.
"What...?" he finally managed.
     The teacher was rubbing the girl's back and whispering into her ear.
She glanced up, her face apologetic. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "Cali
suffers from what you'd probably call Combat Stress Reaction. She watched
her parents die...slowly..." The woman paused as her voice caught in her
throat, then continued, "She still has sudden flashbacks and panic
attacks. I'd better take her back to her room." 
     "Oh." Boomer watched as the teacher carried the girl down the
ladder. As she made her way out of the landing bay, the rest of the crowd
seemed to unfreeze; the roar swelled once more and kids raced about, from
ship to ship, as if nothing had happened. The lieutenant pasted a grin on
his face and turned to the next eager child that clambered up the side of
his viper.

*****

     The idea had been Apollo's, and all of the pilots had embraced it as
a way to get away from the confines of the Galactica. Spend several
centars at the Orphan Ship to entertain the kids. Show off their vipers,
answer the questions, then play some games with them. Fun for all. 
     Yeah, right.
     Starbuck had acted as enthused as the rest of the pilots because he
himself, couldn't explain the odd tightening in the pit of his stomach as
Apollo had eagerly explained the idea in a briefing. Hades, he loved
hanging around kids and felt totally at ease with Boxey - probably
because he had been accused on more than one occasion of still being a
kid. So he had refused to acknowledge the...he wasn't sure how to
describe the sensation -- and it was certainly not fear - at the thought
of spending time with the orphans. 
     Cassie, however, had seen right through him. They had spent the
evening in the O.C. As he had explained the next day's assignment with
what he thought was excitement, she had studied him, watched as he
fingered his drink and shifted in his seat. "You're nervous about going
back, aren't you?" she'd finally asked.
     "Going back? What's that supposed to mean?" Okay, so it had come out
way more defensive than he had ever intended. 
     Cassie had nodded as if that confirmed it, then smiled gently.
"Being with the orphans. You're afraid that it'll take you back to your
own days spent in the orphanages on Caprica. I know..." She slipped a
hand over his and softly rubbed his wrist, leaning in close so that no
one would overhear. "I know that you've done your best to forget some
pretty rough times you had back then." Then she gently kissed his cheek,
lingering close as she breathed in his scent.
     Starbuck chuckled, all nervousness gone. "Lady," he whispered,
brushing his lips against hers, "you could make a fortune as a mind
reader."
     "Well then," the med tech murmured as she nibbled his nose, letting
her tongue slip across his cheek to his ear. "You owe me, I believe..."
     Starbuck felt himself grinning like an adolescent. "I always pay my
debts." His hand slipped beneath the table to caress her knee, her smooth
thigh..."care to take a walk with me?"
     "I thought you'd never ask." Cassie had aimed a coy grin at him as
he had followed her out of the O.C. The long trek through the ship to the
only private place in the Fleet, perhaps, had only fueled their longing
for each other. Wrapped in a heavenly blanket of stars that blazed
through the Celestial Dome, the two gave in to their passion.

*****

     Starbuck grinned at the memory, only half watching as the next kid
clambered into the cockpit of his viper, asking the same questions the
kid before had asked, and the one before that. Yeah, he had been nervous
when they had first arrived, but the Orphan Ship hardly resembled any of
the run-down joints or coldly sanitary institutions that had been his
temporary residences while growing up. The delighted smiles quickly
vanquished any remaining feelings of unease, and Starbuck had to admit
that he was having fun.
     "Hey! I'm next! You can't do that!"
     Well, having fun most of the time. Starbuck turned his gaze below to
where a girl of about nine was elbowing the boy who had just cut in front
of her. He turned his back on her and firmly planted both hands on the
safety-ladder leading up to the cockpit, ignoring her continuing
protests. The girl pounded on his shoulders for a moment, then stared in
askance at the lieutenant. "I was here first! You can't let him do that!"
     Starbuck sighed. Motioning to the boy, he said, "Right, kid. You
heard her. You need to wait, just like everyone else."
     Brown eyes, beneath a dark, ruffled mop of hair, glared at the
Warrior. Starbuck guessed he must be about eight. He was short, thin and
wiry, but strong enough to hold off the protesting older girl. He glared
at Starbuck with a sullen expression and pale, almost mottled,
complexion. Granted, no one got much natural light anymore, but while
most of the other kids looked rosy-cheeked and well-fed, this boy
looked...like the orphans who used to scrounge - or mercilessly steal and
fight -- for food on the streets of Caprica. The kid narrowed his eyes,
braced his hands against the ladder, then shoveled his small body back,
toppling the girl into the others behind her. 
     His lip curled into a satisfied smirk. "This mong's for idiots,
anyway," he hissed, staring straight at the warrior. With one final shove
at the girl, who was red-faced, crying, and glaring at him, he stalked
off. 
     Starbuck slipped off the viper to console the girl before ushering
her up for her two centons in the cockpit, but all the while, he watched
the other child from the corner of his eye. The boy stuffed his hands in
his pockets and trudged over to stand next to the wall, well away from
the activity. Even from a distance - and with his attention half diverted
- Starbuck could tell he was searching for the opportunity to escape.
     "Ah, frak," he muttered under his breath, then turned his charming
grin on for the next orphan climbing up the viper. Glancing around, he
spotted one of the caregivers. "Hey!" he shouted, waving an arm in her
direction. The woman stopped and peered up at the lieutenant. "Can you
take over for a centon?" 
     The woman frowned skeptically but approached the viper. "What do you
need?"
     Starbuck motioned for her to climb up. "I need to take a...ah,
break. You know." He smiled at her. "Look, it's easy up here." He waved
towards the cockpit. "Everything is safety locked, so they can't hurt
anything. You just have to keep the line moving and keep the kids from
falling."  And that was unlikely, considering the ladder they had leaned
against each viper for the benefit of smaller bodies.
     The woman nodded. "All right, then." She grinned like one of the
kids, despite herself, moving to sit atop the viper as Starbuck slipped
down to the deck. 
     Starbuck flashed her a thumbs-up. "Perfect! I'll be just a centon.
Thanks!"
     He slowly approached the lone youngster, wondering just why he was
doing this.  Probably because the boy reminded him of a half dozen kids
he had known.  Maybe if someone had taken a centon to pay them some
attention, then perhaps things would have worked out differently for one
of them.  After all, in an orphanage one-on-one time with anybody was
rare.
     The kid had spotted him.  Good.  He could see the youngster's eyes
open wide with surprise, and then just as quickly narrow in suspicion. 
Starbuck knew the kid was expecting a lecture.  He stopped in front of
him as the boy squatted down against the wall, making himself smaller. 
The instinctive posture filled Starbuck with a vague unease.
     "What's your name?" Starbuck asked.
     "Cullen." The boy replied hesitantly.  "I guess you're going to
report me." His eyes were downcast, studying the warrior's boots.  
     Starbuck leaned against the wall and squatted alongside the boy. 
"I'm Starbuck.  No, I'm not going to report you.  I think you know what
you did was wrong."
     "Then what do you want?" Cullen asked rudely, meeting the warrior's
searching gaze for an uncomfortable moment before again looking down.
     "Just to talk.  So, don't you like the vipers?" He looked up to see
the ships still swarming with excited children, most of them about
Cullen's age.  Every other kid seemed to be having the time of his life.
     "They're okay, I guess." Cullen replied sullenly.
     "Just okay?  Lords, the first time I laid eyes on one, I fell in
love." He winked at the boy, noting his sudden interest.  He motioned
towards his ship.  "Just look at those lines, kid.  She's engineered for
speed, maneuverability and..."
     "Annihilating Cylons?" the boy suggested with revived curiosity.
     "Oh, definitely for annihilating Cylons, Cullen." He saw the corners
of the boy's mouth quirk at the familiar use of his name.  It was simple
really.  Call a kid by name and they would feel special for a moment. 
Get it wrong and...He shook off his own memories, returning to Cullen's
present.  "You should get back in line and check her out.  There's
nothing quite like blasting through the stars in one of these babies. 
Really, kid, I wouldn't steer you wrong." He nudged the boy gently,
almost conspiratorially.
     "I'll think about it." Cullen replied as he watched the others in
action.
     "Well, don't take too long, you might miss out on the fun.  I'll
give you a personal tour of my cockpit if you show up.  Okay?" He
straightened himself up until he was standing again before the boy.
     "Well...okay." Cullen grudgingly agreed, surprised to see a
proffered hand reaching down for his.  He reluctantly reached up and took
it, joining the warrior at his side.
     "Cullen!"
     They both looked over to see a child, only about five or six yahrens
old, running towards them as though the daggits of Hades Hole were on his
heels.  The dark hair and familiar features quickly identified him as
being Cullen's brother.  The resemblance was uncanny.
     Without a word to Starbuck, Cullen strode towards the child,
stooping down to meet him.  He took him by the hand and led him away,
without a backward glance, all the time leaning down and listening to
what his tearful brother was saying.
     Starbuck sighed and shook his head.  Oh, well.  At least they had
each other.  That was good.  He headed back towards his viper, pausing
with a grin to see the teacher smiling radiantly as she peeked into the
cockpit, enjoying the ship as much as the youngster she was sharing it
with.
     Yeah, this was a good idea.  In fact, they should do it more often. 
Hades, if anyone here knew how important it was to add something special
to the kids' lives, it was him.  It was just a matter of time.  But there
just never seemed to be enough of that precious commodity.
     "Hey!  Get off!"
     "I'm gonna annihilate you, Taber!"
     Starbuck whirled to see two boys scrapping on the deck.  He shook
his head, immediately recognizing one as Cullen.  Retribution for his
brother, no doubt.  He dashed over to the boys, reaching down and easily
pulling them apart.  His keen eyes quickly noted several bruises on
Cullen's back.  Almost as if...
     "Hey, that's enough!" he shouted at the boys, who were still trying
to reach one another.  He gave each of them a shove in the opposite
direction.
     Cullen whirled around to face Taber.  "You leave my brother alone,
or I'll kill you!"
     "Yeah, you and what squadron?" Taber returned.
     "I said, that's enough!" Starbuck hollered, abruptly alarmed to see
Cullen flinch away from him.  Frack, what was going on with the kid?
     "Cullen!  Taber!  What is happening here?" A voice roared from
behind them.
     Both boys stopped in their tracks and seemingly held their breath as
the stocky man with the short, platinum hair steamed towards them. 
Cullen's eyes flickered nervously around, looking for a way out.
     "Didn't I warn you boys ahead of time?  Do you think I just like the
sound of my own voice?" he spat at them.  "Now get to your rooms and stay
there until I come and tell you otherwise.  We'll deal with your
disobedience then."
     "Yes, sir." Taber replied nervously as he turned to go.
     Cullen, however, didn't respond.  His eyes were trained on the man
as though he was frozen on the spot.  He blinked rapidly, attempting to
clear the tears that threatened to consume him.
     Starbuck bit his lip as he watched the scene unfold.  Lords, he just
had a bad feeling about this kid.  He just wouldn't feel right about it
if he didn't at least try to delve a little deeper into this.
     Suddenly, Cullen bolted.  He dashed towards the nearest exit, though
it was clearly marked 'no unauthorized entry'.
     "Cullen!  Get back here!" The man roared, but did not even attempt
to pursue him.
     "Where does that go?" Starbuck asked, concerned for the kid's
immediate safety.
     "The engine room." The man replied, looking at the warrior
expectantly.
     "I'll get him." Starbuck told him as he headed for the exit.
     Apollo appeared out of cluster of children, grabbing his arm as he
was about to go through the hatch.  "Starbuck, what's going on?"
     "I'll be just a centon!" he returned, as he shook off the arm and
disappeared down the dimly lit staircase.

*****

     The first thing Starbuck noticed as he headed down the stairwell,
was the engines didn't sound quite right.  With the din of the children
in the landing bay, he hadn't noticed the rough edge to the usual
background noise that they all lived with.  Hades, he hadn't heard a
sound like this since they had surveyed some of the tubs that had joined
the fleet when it first got underway.  Apparently, the Orphan Ship's
engines needed a major overhaul.
     He came to the first level and paused as he looked further down the
stairwell.  There was no sign of Cullen on the gangway or the stairs.  If
he were an eight-yahren-old boy, what would he do?  He shook his head and
headed further down.  He'd go as deep as he could if he was trying to get
away from whatever it was that caused Cullen to freeze and then bolt. 
Once again, Starbuck's stomach twisted at the memory of the boy's
reaction first to him, and then to the caseworker who had intervened. 
Perhaps he was just overreacting.  After all, most of these kids had
issues, having lost their families and everything familiar to them.
     He passed two more levels, each time pausing to check for the boy. 
The noise level was almost deafening at this point and there was
certainly no point in calling Cullen's name.  He finally reached bottom
and headed along the narrow passageway, searching for a sign of the boy.
     Up ahead, he could see a group of maintenance workers scurrying
around, obviously trying to fix the engine problem.  He approached them
trying to yell over the noise, but to no avail as their safety equipment
was in place, protecting their ears against the horrendous noise.  He
finally grasped one of them by the arm to get his attention.
     The man whirled, his face immediately a mask of anger as he shouted
something to Starbuck.  The warrior shook his head, pointing to his ear
and then shouted, "Have you seen a boy running this way?" He pointed to
his eye and then indicated a smaller version of himself, even going so
far as to pantomime running for the worker.
     The maintenance worker tapped the side of his safety helmet and
spoke rapidly into his communicator.  He held up a finger to Starbuck
while searching for something in his pockets and listening to the reply
of his workmates.  He nodded briefly and pulled a datapad out, furiously
pounding on the keys and then holding it up to the warrior.
     Kid went down ladder.  Trouble with reactor housing!  Get kid!  Get
out!  NOW!
     Starbuck blew out an involuntary huff of breath as the stark reality
of the situation set in.  Obviously, the problem wasn't critical enough
to evacuate the ship, but all the same, tylium still had the potential to
be explosive, even in its refined form, and every safety regulation had
to be followed.
     He nodded to the worker and briefly clapped him on the shoulder
before climbing down the ladder he indicated.  Luckily, as he dropped to
the gangway below him, there was only one way to go.  
     He continued along the metal structure, amazed that there was still
a couple more levels below him.  He looked over the edge taking in the
substructure of the ship.  It was immense.  Hopefully, the kid would run
out of energy soon.
     The noise level was almost excruciating, and he was forced to cover
his ears.  Suddenly, he caught sight of Cullen.  The kid had wedged
himself in between a couple large pipes, which formed a kind of tunnel at
the end of the gangway.  
     Cullen seemed totally unaware of him as he sat, feet dangling off
the end of the metal frame and a pair of over-sized ear protectors firmly
in place.  Several pieces of utility tape were wrapped around them to
adapt to Cullen's smaller size.  Obviously, the kid had been here before. 
It was probably his retreat, by the looks of the remnants of food items
lying around.
     Well, there wasn't much in the way of options here.  Starbuck
climbed down on his knees and crawled into Cullen's sanctuary, finally
laying a hand firmly on the boy's shoulder.  Cullen startled and
immediately thrust his body forward in an instinctive move to escape.
     That was exactly what Starbuck was afraid he'd do.  He reached
around the boy's chest, his left hand still holding tightly to Cullen's
tunic.  Without hesitation, he pulled the kid back through the tunnel.  
     Cullen fought like a feral felix, scratching at the hands of the man
who held him.  He could feel flesh tearing beneath his nails, but the
grip only tightened as he was dragged backwards past the pipes.  He
reached back over his head and tried to scratch his captor's face, but
the head quickly turned out of his reach.  Instead, he grabbed a handful
of hair and pulled with all his might.
     Frack!  Starbuck grabbed Cullen's hand and tried to pry his fingers
loose, but the child twisted and squirmed, all the time yanking on hair
and scratching any exposed flesh.  He was out-of-control, his instinct
for survival driving his attack.
     Finally, Starbuck cleared the tunnel and rolled over on the child,
careful not to hurt the gallmonging, little snitrad too much.  He pulled
his scratched hands out from beneath the boy and again grabbed the tight
fist, this time succeeding in pulling his hair free, as he leaned on the
kid just enough to knock the breath from him.
     Starbuck shook his head, amazed at the tenacity of the kid.  He
abruptly turned the child over, quickly grabbing his arms and holding
them at his sides until the boy recognized him.  Cullen continued to
fight, but this time ineffectually as his limbs were pinned beneath or by
the warrior.
     Recognition slowly hit the boy and he stilled beneath Starbuck, as
he gazed up at him tremulously.  Suspicion and fear crossed his features
before he looked around once again for a way out.  A slight shake from
the warrior returned his attention to him.
     Starbuck shook his head slowly and pointed to the gangway and the
ladder beyond it, at the same time releasing the boy's arms.  "We have to
go!" he yelled, knowing Cullen couldn't hear him, but hoping that between
his urgent gestures and miming he might get his point across. 
     The boy nodded after a moment, and Starbuck studied him.  He
couldn't help but think that Cullen would take off if given the
opportunity.  He carefully positioned himself between the boy and any
further retreat deeper into the ship as he held a hand out to help Cullen
up.
     Cullen took the hand, noting the warrior's position.  He even smiled
in thanks as he climbed to his feet, before trying to dash past him,
throwing his body along the gangway.  
     Starbuck intercepted him easily, and simply twisted him over,
throwing him over his shoulder as he strode towards the ladder.  Enough
molly-coddling already, it was time to get the frack out of there.
     A horrible grinding sound suddenly filled the vacuous space and
Starbuck felt the gangway shake as though the ship was splitting apart. 
He clutched Cullen to him, struggling to keep his balance, when abruptly
the platform collapsed beneath them.

*****

     "What in Hades Hole is that?" The deck trembled beneath Boomer's
feet.  He hadn't felt something like that since he was last planetside
during a seismic tremor.  He immediately looked over at Apollo, who was
steadying the latest child to climb down from his ship.
     The landing bay hushed and the first thing Apollo noticed was the
constant vibration of the Orphan Ship's engines had stopped, not to
mention the accompanying drone.  
     "It's okay.  You go ahead now." Apollo told the copper-haired boy
with freckles covering his entire face, smiling at him in reassurance. 
The boy nodded briefly before scampering down the safety-ladder.
     Apollo slid down to the deck, and walked towards the hangar crewman
on duty.  The man was already on the comm, trying to establish what had
happened.  Boomer was right on his Captain's heels.
     "What's the situation?" Apollo asked the crewman.
     "An explosion in a conduit leading from the power distribution node
at the main reactor housing*.  We've lost power." He replied.  "Captain
Szekeres would like to speak to you Captain Apollo."
     Apollo nodded, moving to the comm. "Captain Szekeres, this is
Captain Apollo.  What's the damage?" Apollo asked, noticing the noise
level once again rising in the landing bay.
     "I'm still trying to contact my maintenance crew, Captain, but
communications are out.  The maintenance workers were working to
stabilize the damaged conduit on zeta deck, section beta.  Our readings
show the explosion occurring in the same area.  Luckily, the boraton mist
has completely extinguished the fire, but as yet, my men are unaccounted
for."
     "And your rescue crew?"
     "You should see them any centon, Captain.  The quickest access to
their location is in the landing bay."
     "Stand by, Captain." Apollo abruptly released the comm and turned to
the lieutenant.  "Boomer, where's Starbuck?  Did he come back?"     
     "I didn't know he left." Boomer shrugged.  "Where did he go?"
     Apollo nodded towards the engine room access door and watched Boomer
wince and shake his head in dismay.  "One of the children took off. 
Starbuck was trying to get him back." 
     Boomer sighed.  "I haven't seen him and you know if he was back he
would be standing here beside us.  We better get these kids back to their
quarters and do a headcount."  He looked over to see Sheba talking with
the teacher in-charge, already beginning to organize the children.  
     Apollo nodded soberly, reactivating the comm.  "Captain Szekeres, I
have reason to believe one of my pilots followed a child into the engine
room.  They might still be down there.  We'd better organize a headcount
and find out just who is missing.  Contact the Galactica for
reinforcements."
     "Already done, Captain.  Colonel Tigh assures me they will depart
within twenty centons.  I'm also conscripting any staff with rescue
experience to join the search.  We should have our own teams underway
before the Galactica's get here."
     "If you're short of manpower, I'll volunteer my warriors as well."
Apollo added, turning to see the trademark bright, orange suits of the
rescue workers running through the landing bay.  "Your crew is here now,
Captain.  I'll coordinate the efforts from this end and let them know
help is on the way."
     "Thank you, Captain.  Szekeres out."

*****
     Heat, smoke, dust, pain, and a ringing in his ears that just
wouldn't go away overwhelmed Starbuck as he opened his eyes.  There was a
heavy moisture in the air that smelled chemical in nature, and it made
him want to retch...but that would take too much effort.
     Breathe.  Just breathe.     
     He blinked and attempted to remove the hair from his eyes, but a
piercing pain shot through his arm when he tried to shift it.  He heard a
groan, and within microns realized it was his own.
     Breathe.     
     "Are you okay?"
     The voice was tentative and childlike...Images flashed through the
warrior's mind.  Frack!  "Cullen?"
     Starbuck blinked again, this time using his left hand to wipe the
hair and grit from his eyes.  Cullen was kneeling directly in front of
him, the dim light of the emergency systems illuminating him.  The kid
was covered in grime and looked terrified.
     Starbuck was lying on his right side, his arm twisted beneath him,
with what appeared to be various pieces of debris on top of him.  How the
kid managed to be clear of the wreckage was astounding.
     "Starbuck, are you okay?" Cullen asked again, leaning in closer. 
His brown eyes locked on the warrior's anxiously.
     "Just a centon, kid." Starbuck replied, trying to get his bearings. 
He rolled slowly onto his stomach, gritting his teeth and sucking his
breath in, as his arm burned with pain.  He used his left arm to prop
himself up and tried to get on to his knees, but was hampered by the
debris covering his legs.
     "Let me." Cullen told him, quickly moving to shift the ladder that
had fallen across the warrior.  He tried to lift it, but realized it was
wedged in place, held fast by the beam over it.  
     "Careful, Cullen..." Starbuck told him.  If he couldn't move the
object, how did a eight-yahren-old boy think he was going to?  Besides,
it could be supporting the twisted remains of the gangway on top of it.
     "I can do it." The boy insisted.  For the second time in as many
centons he took a good look at the pile of mong that had landed on the
warrior.  He was sure that he too had landed on Starbuck when they had
hit the deck.   An array of metal bars, beams, and pipes had fallen
around and over them.  Ultimately, when he had got up the courage to open
his eyes, he had been curled in front of Starbuck, cradled protectively. 
The warrior hadn't responded at first, and the boy had been certain he
was dead.  After all, every other adult in a crisis seemed to end up that
way.   A continuous spray of heavy mist had been covering them, which
Cullen now realized would have been to control the fire.  The lingering
smoke and odour that hung in the air were evidence to that.  All the
same, it had been stifling, and he had burrowed his head into the
warrior's chest, clinging to him in terror until it had stopped.  He was
not ready to see the devastation around them, it was too reminiscent of
the night his parents had died.  
     Finally, Cullen had lifted his head, relatively sure it was safe to
move.  He had wiggled himself free of the debris and taken a hesitant
glance at the warrior.  The man had been breathing.  The mere thought
that Cullen wasn't the only one down there still alive had filled him
with hope, replacing the immobilizing terror of a couple centons before. 
When Starbuck had groaned and started to move, the boy had almost cheered
with joy.  He would have if he hadn't been terribly afraid that the
lieutenant was badly injured.  Now, as he looked at the debris again, he
figured he might be able to free Starbuck if he could swing the ladder
laterally instead of lifting it.  
     Starbuck rolled back on his side, trying to get a look at what he
was blanketed in.  Again, his arm throbbed with the movement.  He saw
Cullen starting to try to pull the ladder away from him, instead of off
him.  "Wait, kid!"
     "I'm not a kid!" Cullen snapped, pulling harder to prove his point.
     The ladder shifted and a layer of dust and debris began to fall.
     "Wait!" Starbuck yelled again, feeling a pressure build on the back
of his thighs as the precariously balanced debris began to shift.  He
instinctively started to squirm forward, pain once again shooting through
his arm.
     Cullen froze as he felt the pile of refuse begin to slip, the
already bent support beams groaning in protest.  He saw the warrior
wriggling free, but it was clear he wouldn't get out in time without
help.  He hurried to where the lieutenant grasped a pipe, pulling himself
forward a couple centimetrons at a time.  Cullen grabbed Starbuck's arm
and heaved.
     If it hadn't been so frackin' painful, it might have been comical. 
Starbuck fought to propel his body forward as the debris shifted onto his
lower legs.  His only solid hold had been on the pipe he gripped, and now
he was flat on his face, pushing with his feet and scrambling desperately
forward, as the kid pulled him by his good arm.
     Debris fell around them as the pile that Starbuck had been under,
shifted dramatically, sliding across the entire passageway.  A micron
later he was lying on the deck, free and clear.  Cullen dropped to his
knees beside him, unsure if he had helped or only endangered them both.
     Slowly, Starbuck struggled to his knees.  He cradled his throbbing
right arm across his stomach, opting not to look too carefully at the
blood-caked grime on his hand or the bloody, shredded cloth that had been
the sleeve of his uniform.  From the ache in his shoulder, he suspected
he had caught the arm on something during the fall.  From the throbbing
just below his elbow and the strange tingling in his fingers, he
concluded he had not only broken it, but the gash had probably severed a
nerve.  Just great.  A wave of nausea and dizziness hit him, and he took
a few deep breaths as he purposely looked around at the wreckage.  He'd
look at the arm later.  Maybe next secton.
     He had never even heard the explosion over the roar of the
struggling engines, but there had been one.  The charred and twisted
metal was evidence to that, not to mention the not-so-subtle telltale
sign of the upper decks collapsing.  Now the question was, was there
likely to be another explosion, or was the ambivalent fact that the
engines had shut down reason enough to suggest otherwise?
     Well, either way, the area they were in was hardly stable.  If an
eight-yahren-old boy pulling on a ladder was enough to bring a stack of
debris down on them, they would be better finding a safer place to wait
until they were rescued.  Thanks the Lords that Apollo had seen him leave
the landing bay.
     That decided, his eyes shifted to the kid.  Cullen sat back on his
haunches, unconsciously mimicking the warrior.  Other than the grime and
moisture that covered him from head to toe, he looked unharmed.  His head
was bowed and he steadfastly avoided Starbuck's gaze.
     "Or..." Cullen looked up at the sudden and unexpected word,  "we
could do it your way." Starbuck commented wryly, reaching over to muss
Cullen's filthy hair, a wry smile on his face.
     Cullen's smile was tremulous as he looked at the warrior.  He had
screwed up so badly, first taking off into a restricted area, then trying
to get away from Starbuck, and finally causing a landslide of debris to
cascade down on them.  Why was it that everything he did turned out so
wrong all the time?  He looked away.
     "Cullen, are you okay?  Are you hurt?"
     The tone of Starbuck's voice had changed from teasing to concerned. 
A hand slipped onto the thin shoulder of the boy.  Cullen looked at
Starbuck's hand.  It still showed the tracks of his scratches with dried
blood encrusted amidst grunge.  He had done that too.
     "C'mon kid, say something." Starbuck told him, worried that the boy
was in shock.
     "I'm not a kid." Cullen told him softly.
     Starbuck sighed and considered him briefly.  "I guess you're right. 
A kid couldn't have pulled my astrum out of there, could he?  Thanks for
that, Cullen."
     A smile tugged at the boy's lips and he puffed out his chest
slightly.  "It's okay."
     "Now, level with me here, are you hurt anywhere?" Starbuck asked
again.
     Cullen shook his head.  "No."
     "Good, because we need to get out of here.  Do you think you're up
to it?" 
     "I can do it." Cullen nodded determinedly.  
     Starbuck nodded as he climbed to his feet, already assessing the
area and looking for the nearest comm unit and emergency kit.  As luck
would have it, they were well behind the wall of scrap that was currently
barring their path in that direction.  He could see scorch marks on the
wall, and decided they were unlikely to be functional or salvageable
anyway.  Hades, for all he knew, communications could be out in the
entire area.  
     He sighed as he turned in a circle.  What a fracking mess.  Lords,
how long would it take to get the Orphan Ship running again?  Then again,
maybe it looked worse than it was.  He sure as Hades hoped so.
     A slight wave of nausea again assaulted his senses as he caught a
sweet, fragrant scent in the air.  "Do you smell that?" he asked Cullen
who was likewise on his feet and looking around.
     "What?" Cullen asked, sniffing the air above him.
     Solium.  Frack.  In its natural state, solium was odourless,
colourless, tasteless and toxic.  After centi-yahrens of fatalities, some
genius had finally come up with the idea of mixing it with a
saccharine-scented gas so as to make it detectable.  
     Of course, Cullen would be more susceptible to it, being a child. 
The ventilation system was obviously down for the solium to be
discernable so quickly.  He needed to get the kid out of there and fast. 
Or at the very least find some life masks.
     "What do you smell?" Cullen asked again, sensing the warrior's
unease.  All he could smell was smoke and what he had thought was likely
Boraton.  
     "C'mon, kid.  We better get moving." Starbuck visually picked his
route through the rubble.  While he had never had the infinite pleasure
of inspecting the Orphan Ship personally, he had been on enough old tubs
just like her to have a sense of where the maintenance shafts were
located.  If they could get into the shaft...and if the ladder was
intact...and if he could climb sufficiently with one arm while keeping
half an eye on the boy...and if they could do it before the solium
toxicity had any effect on them... Yeah, that was a lot of if's.  He
sighed.  Well, then maybe they could make it either up or down to a more
intact level.
     Realistically, it would probably be down.  The explosion had done
most of its damage to the level they were on and the one just above them. 
If they could get below it and traverse the damage, they would more
likely make it out of there in one piece.  They were also more likely to
find an intact emergency kit down there as well.
     "I'm NOT a kid..." Cullen began angrily as Starbuck ignored his
question.
     "Sorry, buddy.  No offense intended." Starbuck told him, warding off
another pre-pubescent hormonal driven demonstration of independence as he
put a guiding hand on the boy's shoulder and led him through the debris.
     There was also the issue of the solium.  He had to guess that the
saturation of the gas would be less the further away they were from the
source of the leak, at least for a while.  So...it would follow that
getting under...or over...the site of the explosion would be a better bet
than being on the same level.  He knew there were two theories on the
spread of solium.  One stated that it was slightly less dense than air so
it would rise above the leak because of the variation in molecular
weight.  The other, of course, contradicted that and said that since
solium and air were both gases, diffusion along with the entropy effect
would ultimately mix them.  Lords, it was giving him a headache just
thinking about it.  Or was that the Solium?
     Starbuck's arm jarred painfully as he climbed over the obstacle
course, going slowly so the boy could keep up.  At least that's what he
kept telling himself.  He bit his lip, adding a med kit to his wish list
as he scanned the area again.
     "Where are we going, Starbuck?" Cullen asked, shaking off Starbuck's
hand.
     "The maintenance shaft.  How are you feeling, Cullen?" Starbuck
checked again.  The boy should show symptoms of toxicity sooner than him. 
Then again, there wasn't a whole lot Starbuck could do about it at this
point.  Cullen was the humourless variation of the historical avian in
the mines of Scorpio and the lieutenant was painfully aware of it.
     "Fine.  How's your arm?" The boy glanced at the torn and bloody
sleeve, well aware the warrior had been favouring it.
     "Fracked...uh...well..." Damn, it had just slipped out.  It was from
yahrens of spending too many centars with the military and few with
children.  He listened as a burble of laughter came from the boy, shaking
his head at his slip, but realizing all the same that it wouldn't have
been the first time Cullen had heard the word.  "Just don't tell my
Captain I said that.  He'd have me on long-range patrols until I
personally found Earth."
     A fresh bout of giggles affected the child.  The image of the heroic
warrior getting in trouble for using profanity was hilarious.  He
stumbled behind the warrior and watched as Starbuck cleared a couple
small pieces of debris from the entrance to the shaft, his 'fracked' arm
tucked protectively against his stomach.  Cullen rubbed his eyes and
yawned as the warrior peered both up and down the shaft.
     "It's fairly dark in here.  We're gonna have to go slowly,"
Starbuck's voice had a slight echo to it as he assessed their route.  The
ladder seemed solid enough.  However, the emergency lighting above them
was either out or debris was blocking it.  Below them, the faint reddish
glow of the lighting indicated the way was clear.  "Okay, I'll go first
and you follow me.  I'm not sure how well I can climb with this arm, so
give me a centon to figure this out.  Okay?"
     "Sure, Starbuck." Cullen agreed as a fuzzy sense of fatigue settled
around him.

* * * * *

     Durban didn't mind volunteering for this duty.  Hades, the dim
lighting, safety helmet and respirator tucked under his chin just in
case, reminded him of his younger days mining tylium on Scorpio.  His
team leader, Lieutenant Boomer, had been surprised when Durban had
efficiently started the demonstration of using the safety equipment while
the warrior teed details up with Captain Apollo and Manak, who was in
charge of rescue operations.
     After all, Durban's official designation was care worker.  Mining
skills were not generally associated with care workers.  However,
everyone had a history, and he was no different.  Luckily, some of the
things he had experienced on Scorpio he could apply in this situation. 
Some he could leave buried in the past forever.
     His other motivation was that Cullen, one of the children under his
care, was reported as missing.  He had last been seen heading towards the
engine room with a certain Lieutenant Starbuck hot on his heels.  
     Cullen had been a problem from the first day he and his younger
brother, Keegan, had been placed on the Orphan Ship.  The boy lacked
discipline and respect for his elders.  While most other children under
his supervision fell into line with a mere look from Durban, Cullen had
been resistant. 
     Of course, the tried and true answer to kids like Cullen was
corporal punishment.  He knew that the director frowned upon it, but when
faced with a smart-astrumed, rebellious little delinquent, it was often
the only option.  At least the kid kept his mouth shut about it.  Yeah,
the boy had learned a few lessons the hard way.
     Sagan's sake, Durban had even threatened to separate the brothers
when the usual crack in the lug didn't work.  Keegan was a cute,
affectionate little boy, and the care worker had had no trouble
persuading his older brother that there were people interested in
adopting him.  Finally, Cullen was towing the line.  It was progress.
     "All right, listen up." Boomer returned to the boy's care worker who
had mining experience, and his teacher who had first response medical
training.  "The main access is barely passable, so we're going to double
back and go down to epsilon deck, section delta.  Then we should be above
and on the other side of the damage.  The main rescue crew will proceed
to zeta deck, section beta in hopes of finding the maintenance crew. 
We'll maintain a comm link with all the teams so we can update as we
progress."
     "Is there any indication where Cullen might be?" Reya asked, as she
tied her red hair back off her ivory skin.  Her main concern all along
had been for the boy.  She had taught him in class, and while he tended
to be disruptive at times, he was just another kid trying to recover from
the devastation the destruction brought him.
     "Uh, lieutenant..." Durban interrupted the teacher.  "Cullen was
known to occasionally disappear into the engine room.  It was his escape. 
He probably knows the area pretty well.  Though where exactly he escaped
to, I have no idea."
     "The engine room for an escape?" Boomer asked incredulously as he
considered the stocky man.  Now that he thought about it, Durban looked
more like a miner than a caseworker.  He was thickly built, though what
once was probably solid muscle had obviously softened under his more
sedentary position on the Orphan Ship.  His hair was cut short and was a
startling platinum blonde.  Pale blue eyes assessed him frankly,
obviously measuring him up.  "Hardly an appropriate place for a child."
     "I know it, but that particular child has difficulty with being told
'no'." Durban shrugged.  "No matter how often and how strenuously."  He
noticed Reya's lips tighten at his words.  She was too soft with the boy. 

     "Well, then, he should get along famously with Starbuck." Boomer
quipped under his breath, his concern for his friend manifested in his
usual dry sense of humour.  "Well, since we've brought it up, Cullen and
Starbuck are our main objectives.  The other teams will be entering the
area at these points."  He held up his data pad with the schematic of the
ship brought up on the screen and they flanked him to get a better look. 
"Now, if they're injured, they'll ironically be easier to find.  If
they're mobile, Starbuck will try and get them out of there for fear of
another explosion or a solium leak."
     "That's assuming they're together." Reya mentioned, brushing a stray
strand of hair away from her eyes.
     "And still alive." Durban added bluntly.
     "Lieutenant Starbuck is a personal friend of mine.  If he went down
there to bring Cullen out, he'll do it."
     "You have a lot of faith in your friend, lieutenant." Reya nodded in
approval.
     "For good reason, Reya.  He's one of our best."

* * * * *

     Starbuck found if he hooked his right arm around the edge of the
ladder just to stabilize himself, then climbing down with a broken arm
wasn't quite as bad as he thought it would be.  Mind you, his arm felt
differently about that.
     He gritted his teeth as each step sent a searing pain through his
forearm.  He could already feel the irritating trails of sweat running
down his face, compelling him to wipe it away...later.  He focused on his
breathing, taking one step at a time and ensuring his grip was solid
until he was far enough down for Cullen to join him.  It was only one
level.  He could do it.  A  centon tops, Bucko.
     "Okay, Cullen.  Take it slowly and watch your step," he encouraged
the boy who had already positioned himself for his descent.
     "Yep." Cullen replied after a moment, his voice strangely muffled.  
     Starbuck watched the boy's feet seeking the rungs hesitantly.  It
was as if each time the foot settled on the hard metal bar that the kid
was uncertain if he had arrived or not.  With each step, it seemed to get
worse.  
     "Are you okay, Cullen?  Do you feel dizzy or tired?  Headache?"
Starbuck asked, abruptly worried.
     "I'm...okay." Again the reply was muffled, distant.  
     Abruptly, the warrior headed back up, covering the distance of the
few rungs that separated them.  He climbed behind the child and within
microns had encircled the boy.
     "Hey, what's going on?  Talk to me, kid." Starbuck asked, pressing
the slight form closer to the ladder.  
     Cullen's head rested on the cold bar and he blinked rapidly trying
to clear his fuzzy vision.  His hands and feet felt as though they
belonged to someone else, not quite responding to his commands.  He tried
to force himself onward, but his tired body had called it quits
     "Cullen, can you move?" Starbuck asked, his heart rate escalating as
he tried to get the boy to respond. 
     "Starbuck..." .  The presence of the warrior behind him was
comforting as the tingling in his extremities moved medially.  It was
such a strange sensation, almost like he was floating above his body.  It
was so comforting...so safe...All he had to do was let go and he would
simply float back up to the deck...
     "Cullen!!"
     
* * * * *

     The task had seemed insurmountable when they stood in front of the
pile of debris which obscured the passage towards the missing maintenance
workers.  The Orphan Ship's rescue team, like so many of its other
workers, all seemed to moonlight between official designations.  The
twelve person volunteer team was made up of firefighters, iron workers,
maintenance workers, as well as a smattering of proficiencies in health
care, construction, and demolition.  
     All in all, they had looked very impressive when they made their
appearance in the landing bay in their bright orange safety gear, but it
had deteriorated from there.  When Apollo had conferred with Manak in the
landing bay, the man had decisively sent the remainder of his crew ahead
to assess the situation.  However, when the headcount was done and the
additional volunteers were organized into teams, it became apparent that
the specialized group of people had never worked together before.
     The scene was tense as the maintenance worker, demolition man, and
firefighter argued which way to best approach the rubble with various
priorities in mind; the safety of the missing men, the expedient process
of clearing the debris, and where to make the first cut without bringing
the whole pile of refuge down on them all.  
     Apollo had looked on in stunned silence as he realized that there
had been no progress while the organizers were in conference.  The group
was ill-prepared for the disaster.  Manak, however, was a man who was up
to the task of leadership, at least verbally.
     "What the fracking Hades Hole are you lot sitting on your padded,
fire-retardant astrums for?  Are you waiting for a personal invitation to
join the disaster?  Now move!  We have victims to look for!"
     Fortunately, it had only seemed like short centons later when the
Galactica's Search and Rescue crew had arrived.  While Manak and company
had done their best, Chief Jorda and the Galactica's team made them look
like the amateurs they were.  The well-drilled and experienced SAR crew
followed their carefully regulated and practiced procedures and soon had
their containment crew ready for mobilization through the cleared
corridor.
     They had only made one mistake.
     "Captain Apollo, I'll let you know as soon as the area is secured
and safe for your people." Jorda told him over his shoulder as he pulled
his respirator in place and prepared to lead his team.
     Well, at this point Apollo was his people.  He had sent his other
warriors to search for Starbuck and the child, assuming that they
wouldn't be with the maintenance workers.  From his experience with his
son, Boxey, a child did not seek out the company of strange adults when
upset and driven to flee a situation.  And from what Boomer had reported
from Cullen's caseworker, the boy was familiar with the engine room.  No,
he would be elsewhere.  Hopefully, one of the maintenance workers could
give them an idea of where.
     "Jorda, my wingman and friend, not to mention a child, is down there
somewhere.  I'm not going to sit on my hands and wait for you to tell me
when it's safe while they could be in trouble.  I'm coming too."
     The grey-haired firefighter shook his head as he pulled his safety
equipment away from his face, his blue eyes staring impatiently at
Apollo.  "Captain, I appreciate your concern, but this isn't your
expertise.  What don't you let me do my job?"
     "I don't intend to stop you, Chief.  Look, Starbuck has saved my
astrum enough times that I'm not going to let him down.  It's not that I
doubt your abilities, it's simply that I owe him that.  I'm sure you
understand, working in Search and Rescue all these yahrens." 
     Indeed he did.  Jorda's men relied on one another to cover their
backs, to keep each other alive.  Trust was implicit.  "Very well,
Captain." He nodded briefly.  "But remember,  this is my turf and in
there I'm in charge.  Understood?"
     Apollo nodded, "Understood."  He pulled his safety mask in place and
prepared to follow the team into beta section.

* * * * *

     Starbuck reacted before thinking clearly about what he should do. 
He had a history of that and usually it worked out for him.  But this
time...
     He had moved his right leg up the ladder, propped under Cullen's
buttocks, supporting the limp boy.  At the same time, he had leaned
against the child, pressing him into the rungs while he hooked his right
arm under the boy's slender arm and across his chest. 
     Well, in the grander scheme of things, it had accomplished the
desired effect;  Cullen had stopped slipping inexorably downward.  But in
the meantime...
     Pain shot through his arm, radiating out and in some inexplicable
physiological reaction, resulted in the gorge rising in his throat, the
trembling starting in his limbs, and a visual haze penetrating the
periphery of his eyesight.
     Frack..." the saliva in his mouth pooled there and he knew if he
swallowed it he would toss his mushies all over the ladder, the boy, and
the deck below.  The tinny taste in his mouth that was somehow connected
to the unusual awareness of the back of his throat and the reeling of his
stomach, kept him in the moment.
     With a ridiculous, but fleeting thought for deck maintenance, he
spat the offensive gob out and rested his head against the ladder.  The
boy was in trouble and needed a life mask ASAP.  He had to move.
     Starbuck shook his head at the impossibilities of the situation. 
Hades, if he hadn't broken his arm, he would be fine.  Now would be a
very good time for Apollo or Boomer to show up.  Come on, guys.  That was
your cue.
     As much as he respected his friends, their apparent talents in
telepathy and teleportation were sadly lacking.  C'mon, Bucko, think!
     He leaned towards the ladder once again, ensuring he had his balance
as his only idea for getting the child down in one piece raced through
his mind.  He let go with his left hand and reached for the back of
Cullen's pants, feeling the reassuring band that might just save his
life.
     Oh, it was great in theory.  A simple thing really.  Undo your belt
and loop it through the boy's, thereby attaching him to you.
     In reality, it was a fracking nightmare.
     Undoing his belt was something he had done an infinite amount of
times, but somehow pressed against a ladder, his injured arm wracked with
pain, and a small, unconscious body pressed against him, it was just
about inconceivable.  His shaking fingers struggled to go through the
motions.
     He felt the boy's weight shift and gripped him tighter, cursing the
useless fingers of his dominant hand.  In fact, now that the boy was
unconscious, he let loose with every curse he had heard in the twelve
worlds and beyond as he maneuvered the leather band with an excruciating
slowness and finally secured his buckle.
     "Okay, kid.  Yeah, you're just a kid.  This is going to be a bumpy
ride, but we'll make it."  He wasn't sure if the pep talk was for the
unconscious child or himself as he cautiously lowered his leg, feeling
the weight of the child drop slightly with the slack.
     He shifted his grip to the outside of the ladder, sliding his hand
down the vertical beam as he started to descend.  The entire time he kept
the boy's torso pressed against him with his upper arm, hoping to avoid
bouncing the kid's head off the rungs.  Simultaneously, he leaned back
slightly so Cullen's legs wouldn't get caught up.  The last thing he
needed was more complications.
     When his foot settled on the deck, he almost whooped with joy. 
Immediately he spotted an emergency kit attached to the wall by the comm
unit.  He strode towards it, the boy swaying from his belt.
     Again, his fingers fumbled as he opened the box.  He sighed with
relief when he saw the life masks.  It might be a bit too big for Cullen,
but it would do.  Figures.  We're on a ship full of orphans and nobody
thinks to put a child-sized life mask in the kit.  He pulled it out and
abruptly applied it to the boy's face.
     It was often the little things in life that could really annoy you
to no end.  A groan of despair escaped his lips as he realized he
couldn't hold the mask in place and at the same time secure it behind the
boy's head with the elastic cord.  To make matters worse, his nausea and
headache were getting worse, and he had a pretty good idea it had more to
do with solium toxicity than a psychosomatic reaction to his pain.
     Starbuck leaned against the wall and lowered himself down until the
boy was propped up again on his raised knee.  It wasn't stylish, but it
would work.  He clenched the cord in his teeth and again lowered the mask
over Cullen's face, this time securing it in place as he tightened the
straps as much as possible.
     Now you, Bucko.  He straightened himself up, his legs quivering
under the glaringly meager weight of his burden, as he reached in for a
second life mask.  He covered his face gulping in deep breaths, willing
the toxic gas from his bloodstream.
     He couldn't help but laugh mirthlessly when he realized he couldn't
secure his own mask.  Lords, he felt dreadful.  Realizing how ridiculous
he must look, he turned around squeezing the mask against the comm unit
with the pressure of his head, and shakily pulled the strap in place.  
     Well, while you're here... The comm was dead.  Oddly enough, banging
it with his fist didn't breathe new life into it either.  He shook his
head despairingly, realizing communications were probably out.
     Nausea again overwhelmed him and he briefly thought about the
implications of vomiting into his mask.  He slowed his breathing, intent
on curtailing the bile rising in his esophagus.  He turned around,
gradually lowering himself down the wall until he was sitting, his legs
extended before him.  Adjusting the child, whose head had lolled back
onto his shoulder, the warrior again checked the seal of Cullen's mask. 
The slight fogging of the plastic reassured him for the moment that the
boy was still with him.  Starbuck rested his head back against the wall,
thinking about his next move, as he tried to ignore his throbbing arm. 
Now he could focus on getting them out of there.  In just a centon.

* * * * *

     It was a chemical nightmare.  A haze of smoke and boraton hung in
the air, limiting Apollo's vision, and likely reducing the chance of
survival by anyone who had lived through the blast.  The muted emergency
lighting, or what was left of it, lent the damaged area an eerie feeling. 
The team carefully picked through the devastation, searching for signs of
life.  How could they already be too late?
     "I'm reading Solium levels of twenty-three percent." Jorda snapped
into his communicator.  "Attention all team leaders.  If you're not
already wearing your safety masks, then get them on.  We are detecting
high levels of solium in beta section.  That will likely translate to
diffusion of the gas into your areas."
     Metal girders and other support structures that had seemed
indestructible, lay bent and twisted from the heat and force of the
explosion.  Apollo took his cue from the pros, cautiously picking his
next step as he moved aside debris while following somewhat of a grid
pattern.
     "I've got one!" an excited voice claimed.  "He's buried.  I'm gonna
need some help."
     "I'm with you on the right, Mack."
     "I'm coming from the left."
     Apollo turned and watched the three men begin to dig out the victim
of the blast on the level above him.  Hades, what was left of the level
above him.  Jorda had directed him downward, feeling the novice was safer
on the lower level.  He couldn't help but wonder if it was Starbuck or
the child, though he quickly reminded himself there were five other men
in there.  He moved on, as he had been directed to do.  Every micron
counted.
     "Poor son of a..." The voice was muted, and Apollo realized it was
Jorda himself.  He again turned, searching for the Chief, but the man
wasn't in his line of sight.  
     "This one's dead, men.  Didn't have a chance." Jorda spoke in hushed
tones.
     "Frack, don't these guys know to carry life masks if they're trying
to prevent an explosion?" The affectation was sarcastic and angry, the
voice young.
     "Easy, Glynn.  You weren't there.  You can't judge them.  They were
trying to save lives.  Remember that.  Besides, in this incidence, a life
mask wouldn't have made a damn bit of difference."  Jorda replied calmly. 
"Mack, what you got?"
     "Almost there, Chief." he replied.
     "Chief...I've got something..." another voice.  "Oh, sweet,
suffering Sagan..." The sound of gagging filled the line.
     "Oban, help him out." Jorda ordered.
     "I'm closer, Chief," Glynn argued, though his voice faltered.
     "I've got him, kid.  Keep searching." Oban replied.
     Apollo drew a deep breath.  Lords, life in a viper was a picnic
compared to this.  "Any ID on the victims so far?"
     "No." Jorda replied shortly, understanding the Captain's need to
find his friend.  "Mack?  Talisker?"
     "Not a frackin' clue, Chief." Talisker's voice was shaky, but at
least the retching had stopped.
     "This one's definitely an maintenance worker.  Not a Colonial
Warrior's uniform, Captain.  He's gone too, Jorda." Mack answered.
     "Any chance...?" Jorda had to ask.
     "No point."
     Three down in the span of a few centons.  It wasn't looking good. 
Apollo continued to pull things aside, stopping dead in his tracks as a
charred piece of flesh was revealed.
     "Chief, Apollo here, I've found someone!" Apollo exclaimed, pulling
further debris away quickly as his adrenaline kicked in.
     "Easy, Captain.  Go slowly.  Coleraine and Watt will be right
there." Jorda warned him.
     The first rule in SAR was to ensure there was no jeopardy to
yourself.  Jorda had hastily explained that they were there to try and
save lives, not to carelessly endanger their own.
     Apollo heeded the sage advice, hesitating to look around.  It took
him only a moment to spot the severed cable laying just the other side of
the rubble.  If it was energized, it could conduct enough current to kill
a man.  With the multitude of conductive material lying around, the
chance of that happening was scary.
     "There's a power cable lying on the deck nearby, Chief.  How do I
tell if it's energized?" Apollo asked
     "Move clear, Captain.  You can't tell.  Don't you just hate this
felgercarb?"
     A series of dry chuckles flooded the line.  Must be an in-joke,
Apollo pondered, feeling just a bit outside his element, as he moved back
from the potentially deadly wire.  The blackened hand tormented him, even
though he knew Jorda was right.  If he hit a conducting girder, he
wouldn't be doing himself or the victim any favours.
     "Captain Szekeres.  Chief Jorda here.  We've found three bodies and
one potential.  We need you to cut power to Beta Section, Eta deck on my
signal."
     "Szekeres here.  Give me the word Chief, we'll be ready."
     Once again the SAR team launched into a flurry of activity, setting
up a self-powered illuminator with a search beam capacity before readying
themselves to move the cable.
     "Flip you for it." Mack prompted.
     "No, no.  You don't get off that easily.  You lost that little bet
on that blonde bombshell of a med tech, pal.  It's your turn." Talisker
replied.
     "I'm still working on her friend.  Cutting my losses.  What about
Glynn?  Whatever happened to trial by fire?" Mack returned.
     "He's still a rookie, Mack.  Suck it up, man."
     "Yeah, yeah."
     It was startling close to the pilots' own version of black humour
while under fire.  What it was about mankind that drove humour to the
surface in the darkest times of tension, Apollo wasn't sure, but somehow
it seemed appropriate.  But there was always a limit.
     "Okay, kiddies, are you done?" Jorda barked.  The line immediately
cleared.  "Captain Szekeres, Chief Jorda here.  We're ready for our power
cut."
     Strangely, the difference in illumination was barely discernable as
the emergency lighting system abruptly cut out and all that was left was
the SAR's intense beam.  Apollo stood aside and let the specialists do
their job as they moved the cable and dealt with it in a safer location. 
However, he joined in with fervour when the area was declared clear and
the power reactivated.
     Piece by piece, they removed the debris until gradually the figure
of a man was revealed.  His skin was badly charred and peeling from his
exposed face and hands, the raw tissue beneath oozing blood and fluid. 
Gross edema was already settling in.
     "He's still alive." Apollo told them as he kneeled over the man,
watching the steady rise and fall of his chest.  
     "My medical scanner will be the judge of that, Captain." Trig
replied lightly, joining the warrior on the man's other side and running
his analyzer slowly up the patient's body.  "Amazing that he is.  Second
and probably third degree burns to sixty-eight percent of his body." He
adjusted the setting.  "Fractured pelvis, ribs, right femur and
dislocated right shoulder."  Again he fiddled with the scanner.  "Hades,
I don't like this.  His right lung is perforated, and, by the looks of
it, so is his spleen.  Blood pressure dangerously low.  We need a line
STAT."
     A low groan left the man's cracked and swollen lips and his eyes
flickered open, closing quickly once again as he winced and moaned in
agony.  Trig quickly applied a life mask.
     "Can you give him something for the pain?" Apollo asked briskly.
     "Not until he's more stable." Trig replied.  "I don't want his blood
pressure dropping any lower than it is."
     "Is he gonna be any more stable, Trig?" Jorda asked quietly.
     "I'm not a fracking fortune teller, Chief!"  Then more quietly, "I
don't know.  Maybe not.  We have to transport him ASAP."
     "Help...me..." the man croaked, his brown eyes locking on the
Captain's as the tech worked on him.
     Apollo reached to squeeze the man's shoulder then stopped, as he
realized he might be doing more damage than good.  "We are.  You're in
good hands." His jaw clenched as he watched an additional med tech start
a line.
     "Keep talking to him, Captain." Trig encouraged him, glad of the
distraction as he started pumping life-sustaining fluids into his
patient.
     "We're going to get you out of here as soon as you're stabilized."
Apollo told him, the encouraging smile on his face feeling wooden.  He
wondered if the man could tell he was probably lying through his teeth.
     "The...others?" The man mumbled and then coughed, a fine spray of
blood lining his mask.
     "We...haven't found them all yet." Apollo replied guardedly.
     "Did you...find the boy?"
     "You saw him?" Apollo asked, hope rising cautiously.
     The man nodded once again and closed his eyes.  He winced sharply at
some treatment the medic was performing before opening them.
     "Where?" Apollo asked. 
     "Went...lower deck...Don't know...where..." Again, a brief cough.
     "Did you see a Colonial Warrior chasing him?"
     Brown eyes again focused on the Captain staring intently, as he
licked his blackened lips and tried to form the words.   Apollo leaned
closer and waited.  If they could at least find out if Starbuck and the
boy were together, they'd be a little further ahead.  Abruptly, all
awareness faded from the man's eyes though they continued to stare
through the Captain.
     "Flat line!"

* * * * *

     Boomer knew he should be used to this felgercarb by now.  Life was a
series of highs and lows.  One centon they're having a blast with a bunch
of kids and the next, they're searching for survivors.
     Maybe he wouldn't feel so bitter, if he didn't feel that negligence
had something to do with the explosion.  How the Hades Hole could the
tragedy have occurred otherwise?  There were routine safety and
maintenance checks done on every ship in the fleet.  And this one, the
home and transport for the very future of the Colonies, had a rigid
schedule.  At least more so than say, oh, the Prison Barge.
     Oh, and Apollo's last report didn't exactly buoy his spirits.  All
five of the maintenance workers had been found.  Dead.  Every last one of
them.
     Well, except for the one who had stayed alive just long enough to
say he had seen the boy, but not quite long enough to confirm Starbuck's
presence with Cullen.  The man must have been a maintenance worker; he
had no concept of time.
     Ooh, you're getting jaded, Boom-Boom.
     Normally he would add that was only because he had been hanging
around Starbuck too long.  Not this time though.
     The tone of his Captain's voice had set him off.  He knew it. 
Apollo had been spooked.  Well, maybe spooked wasn't quite the right
word, but Boomer knew that whatever the Captain had seen at the scene of
the explosion, it made him glad that he wasn't there.
     Apollo was never a great one for hiding his emotions. 
Realistically, a junior officer wouldn't have noticed anything amiss, but
his friends...they just knew him too well.  The Captain was worried.
     And usually Good Ole Boomer was the last person who let things get
to him, but frack, he was worried too.  Hades, it had been Starbuck,
Apollo and Boomer for so long that it just wouldn't seem right to lose
their friend from the equation.  Besides, neither he nor Apollo could
rile one another like they could rile Starbuck.  It wasn't the same. 
Starbuck was just such a great...target.
     Frack!  Stop it!  Just think what Starbuck would say if he knew you
were already thinking of him as gone!
     No, not gone.  Dead.  Blown to smithereens while chasing down some
troublesome kid he didn't even know.  Where was the sense in that?  Was
there any?
     He reminded himself that it should be the kid he was tearing himself
up about, but he didn't even know the damned kid.  He was just the kid
that led his buddy to his...
     "Lieutenant?  Are you okay?"
     "Sorry?" The lieutenant snapped out of his reverie at the sound of
Reya's voice.  "What was that?"
     "Durban thought he saw someone." Reya pointed to her comm.
     From the landing bay, they had made it around to the other side of
the explosion in delta section.  From there they had gone down a few
levels and had started making their way towards gamma section.  The
additional teams had covered the other levels in that area, the theory
being that the boy wouldn't have made it further than beta or gamma in
the time between his taking off and the occurrence of the explosion.  
     The devastation in the engine room had revealed little indication of
the child or the warrior.  Sheba had been on the team that had been in
the thick of the debris just beyond Apollo's location.  She had said it
almost looked as though there had been an additional explosion there,
with the amount of damage and scorch marks.  Like Apollo, she had sounded
shaken and even a little overwhelmed.  "We're still looking, Boomer," she
had promised him.
     At this point they had started searching room by room, in the chance
that the kid had fled and was hiding.  Durban had been just down the
corridor when he had apparently reported movement.  Boomer had missed the
announcement while still deep in his own contemplations.  
     He nodded shortly at Reya and followed her to what appeared to be a
storage room.  Durban was shining his illuminator over containers that
littered the room in no apparent order.
     "I'm certain I saw a shadow.  Someone moved." The stocky caseworker
averred.  
     "This is Lieutenant Boomer of the Battlestar Galactica.  We're here
to help.  We're not going to hurt you.  Please come out." And then
hesitantly, "Cullen?"
     A faint sound came from the back of the room.  Muffled laughter.
     "You're in a potentially dangerous situation.  We want to help you. 
Please show yourself." Boomer tried again, the light beam slowly scanning
the area.
     A burst of female laughter prompted a sudden startling movement, and
two teenagers sprang from their hiding place and sprinted to another door
at the rear of the room.  Hand in hand, the sweethearts raced through the
exit and into the conjoining compartment.
     "I don't believe this!" Boomer exclaimed.  "Hold it!" He sprinted
towards them, stopping short as the heavy door clanged shut.  "It's
locked!" Despite the knowledge, he tried once more before turning and
racing back the way they had come to pursue the teens.
     In the dim emergency lighting, he could barely see them ahead.  How
they had managed to get such a jump on them, he didn't know.  Apparently,
young love made for fleeter feet.
     The carefree shrieks and giggles echoed down the corridor.  It was
clearly just a game to them.  It didn't even occur to them that their
pursuers were wearing safety equipment for a reason.  Young and
stupid...and amorous.  A lethal combination.
     The teens zipped down a maintenance shaft as though it was a ride in
an amusement park.  Boomer could hear their footfalls on the level below
as his foot hit the top rung.  By the time he hit the deck, they were
nowhere to be seen.
     "Frack!"  He activated his comm.  "Captain, we have a problem here."
     "Go ahead, Boomer." Apollo responded.
     "We came across two teens ...frolicking...in a store room.  They've
taken off.  We've lost them.  We're on..." He looked around to get his
bearings.  "Eta deck, Section delta.  We're going to have to split up to
look for them.  These levels seem stable, very little damage, so it
shouldn't be a problem."
     "Okay, Boomer.  Keep me updated and let me know if I need to
redirect another team to help you out."
     "Will do, Apollo." Boomer turned to Reya and Durban.  "Okay.  Stay
in constant communication.  I want to know you're okay."  He stood at the
head of the t-junction, pointing the way to the others.  "Reya, you go
right.  Durban, left.  I'll go straight."
     Durban nodded and headed down the corridor.  What a mess.  Now they
had two more missing youths.  They must have snuck away after headcount,
confident that they wouldn't be missed.  Hades, he'd like to have a word
with the caseworker in charge of those two.  Someone obviously hadn't
driven the point home very effectively.  
     He searched the rooms, one by one, careful to listen for any sounds
before activating his illuminator.  They had given themselves away once
already.  They would do it again.  Caution was not something he
associated with youth.  They thought they were immortal.  Those two might
just wake up dead to find out that they were wrong about their
immortality.  He grinned at his little joke.
     At the end of the corridor was another maintenance shaft.  He knew
he was getting into the bowels of the ship now, for the familiar
stairwells to be disappearing.  He hated shafts.  Climbing up or down,
they took him back to the mines.  Tight spaces, darkness, his father's
blackened face...
     His father.  He hadn't thought of Goro in ages.  
     His father had been a miner his entire life.  He was as hard as
tylinium nails, and just as tough.  Especially on his eldest son.
     Yes, he was a man who ruled his home with a firm hand.  His sons
didn't dare step out of line.  They respected their father and every bit
of energy he exerted to earn the cubits to support his family.
     Even Durban's mother treaded carefully around Goro.  Occasionally,
she overstepped her bounds and Durban would hear the usual brief
confrontation that usually ended in his father backhanding her, and then
her sobs...then everything would resume as it had.  
     He had continued his father's traditions in every sense when he
became a miner.  Over eight yahrens later, he had been sealed to Safiya. 
Within another yahren, his son was born.  He had been content and truly
happy for the first time in his life.
     Safiya was a good woman.  Pretty, petite, and with long, satiny
hair, the rare and beautiful colour of amber.  His golden princess, he
called her.  She cooked fine meals and kept his house to the standards of
his mother.  Safiya obeyed him and honoured him, as was her place.  He
rarely had to discipline her.  She was also a good mother to his son.
     Then came the day that he came home early from work to find Safiya
in the arms off another man.  He barely remembered the ensuing centars,
but when he finally came back to the moment, Safiya, her lover, and even
his baby son, had been dead.  
     If it hadn't been for the Cylon raid that had struck their town
right afterwards, he would have probably been incarcerated for their
terminations.  Instead, he fled and much later read his own obituary
describing his untimely death with his wife and child in the attack.  His
parents and brothers' families had also perished in the attack.
     Soon after came the destruction.  A blow to mankind, or an
opportunity to reinvent yourself.  It just depended on your outlook
really.  He had proven himself to be versatile.
     He continued down the darkened corridor, abruptly coming to a stop
when he heard a noise.  It didn't sound like the sweethearts.  It sounded
more like the muffled voice of a man.  A man who was cursing under his
breath.  Durban moved over to the maintenance shaft, looking up and
arching his neck as he listened.  

* * * * *
 
     Oxygen is a wonderful thing.  One of the vastly underrated things in
the universe really.  Yeah, unappreciated and taken for granted.  Well,
no longer.  Today, in the unofficial capacity declared by the
sole...conscious occupant of wherever the heck we are, I proudly decree
it...Oxygen Day.
     Starbuck was temporizing and he knew it.  He also knew he had to
move, but somehow the deck under his astrum had taken on the comfort of
one of the beds in the most luxurious suites of the Rising Star.  Yeah,
it was positively cushy.  
     Cushy?  What's cushy is your brain, Bucko.  Get moving!
     Cullen was beginning to stir.  Starbuck took another deep breath and
reached between them trying to once again undo his belt.  Frack, it would
be a lot easier to undo the kid's.
     He pulled his hand back out and reached for the child's buckle,
deftly undoing it and beginning to pull the belt loose.
     "Don't hit me, Durban!  I'll be good!  I promise!" The words
cascaded from Cullen's throat and he wriggled wildly to get away as he
awoke disoriented and afraid, tearing the life mask from his face.
     "Hey!  Easy, Cullen!  It's Starbuck.  I'm not going to hurt you."
The warrior immediately released the boy and watched as he scrambled
away.  
     The child cowered against the far wall, still dizzy and muddled. 
Faint recognition lit his features, although he wrapped his arms around
his knees, curling into a ball.  His life mask dangled uselessly on his
chest.
     "How are you doing, Cullen?" Starbuck asked cautiously, pulling his
life mask down to reveal his face.
     "...okay..." He studied the warrior warily.
     "Listen, there's a solium...a poisonous gas, in the air.  We need to
keep our life masks on.  Understand?"
     "I know what solium is." Cullen returned, fingering his mask.  "It
smells sweet."
     "That's right.  Can you smell it now?" He smiled encouragingly.
     Cullen lifted his chin slightly, sniffing the air.  He nodded before
slowly pulling his mask back on.
     Starbuck nodded his approval and pulled his own mask on.  "Who's
Durban?"
     The boy shifted, uncomfortable under the sudden scrutiny.  He
switched his gaze to the deck.
     "Cullen, is Durban someone on the Orphan Ship?" He'd try and make it
simpler, yes or no.  For all he knew, Durban was someone from the boy's
past or another child.  Still, he just had this gut feeling...
     Cullen chewed his lip.  
     "If someone's hurting you, I can make him stop."  
     The anguished eyes met his for a mere micron before looking away.
     "Whatever he threatened you with, I can stop him.  He won't hurt you
anymore.  Just tell me who he is."
     Eyes furiously blinking back tears, the boy sniffed while
considering the warrior.  Could he really trust him?
     Starbuck could still see the doubt, the conflicting emotions
flickering across Cullen's face.  And he knew why.  "I know that a lot of
people have let you down.  People you dared to trust, even cared about. 
I promise that I won't.  I give you my word. Who is he, Cullen?" His
anger was simmering beneath his calm fa‡ade.  Lords, he would kill the
son-of-a-daggit!
     "My caseworker." The words were barely audible, tears rolled down
his cheeks.  
     It took more self-control than anything Starbuck had faced in his
career as a Colonial Warrior.  He could feel the blind fury envelop him,
but kept it buried deep inside, for fear of scaring Cullen.  "He...hits
you?"
     Cullen nodded briefly, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his filthy
tunic as if he was younger than his yahrens.
     "With what?" the lieutenant spoke softly, encouraging the boy to
talk, all the time remaining still.  No sudden moves, no attempt to get
up, staying out of the child's space.
     "My belt." Cullen replied, dropping the warrior's gaze once again. 
     "You know Durban's wrong when he hits you, don't you Cullen?"
Starbuck asked him.  By the look on Cullen's face he didn't know.  He
probably thought he deserved it.  He likely felt powerless.  Cornered. 
And in Cullen's case, there was nowhere else to go.  Starbuck sighed,
shaking off unwelcome memories that he had locked away long ago.  "He is
wrong.  He has no business laying a hand on you, or anyone else."
     "He can do what he wants." Cullen spoke matter-of-factly.
     "Not anymore, buddy.  It stops now.  Right now."
     Without warning, a sudden howl of agony rang through the corridor,
the sound bouncing off the empty walls.  A shiver ran down Starbuck's
spine as he tried to track the origin of the cry, but only the haunting
sound of the echo remained.
     Then, it resonated again.

* * * * *
     So, after the second headcount had been done, it turned out that in
addition to Cullen, two fifteen-yahren-olds were missing.  Oh, they had
been there for the first round, but had then deemed it exciting or
rebellious to sneak off together and try to get close enough to see the
site of the explosion.  Rumour had it they had acted on a dare.  Not once
had they considered that they had been confined to their rooms for
reasons of safety.  No, it had to be about unjust adult authority.
     Well, at least that was the story Apollo had relayed over the comm. 
He had gone back to the Director of the Orphan Ship to ensure that the
remaining children were kept under supervision and did not leave the
relative safety of the upper decks, which by now had been sealed off from
the potential solium diffusion.
     Well, Boomer was certain that after a lecture from Apollo, no more
stray orphans would be joining the melee.  The lieutenant had just
touched base with the other team leaders, and as yet, there was no sign
of any missing persons.  Time was running out for Starbuck and Cullen,
unless they had somehow miraculously escaped the explosion and had
obtained life masks.
     Apollo had almost sounded relieved when he reported he was leaving
zeta deck and going topside.  All the same, it had given Boomer a further
sinking feeling when the Captain had left the scene.  It was almost a
silent admission that if Starbuck was still there, he was dead.  A
feeling Boomer had been carrying with him for a while now.  And if he
wasn't dead, then where the frack was he?  Lords, he was going to kill
Starbuck when they found him.
     He opened yet another hatch and stepped into the compartment, the
beam of his illuminator leading the way.  A flicker of light briefly
flashed at the other side of the room, and then abruptly vanished. 
Boomer extinguished his own light, standing silently and listening.  They
weren't going to dupe him again.
     He knew there was a connecting hatch at the rear of the compartment. 
The old tub was lousy with connecting hatches and unlikely passageways. 
The vintage freighter had been refitted so many times that the schematic
was an unruly mess with no apparent rhyme or reason.  Well, other than to
totally confuse the people wandering the labyrinth that was the bowels of
the ship. 
     Boomer moved stealthily in the direction of the light.  His hands
guided him past barricades as he crept silently along.  These teens might
not have a lot of time left either.  The weight of his emergency kit was
comforting on his back, and he knew he would have to get the life masks
on the rebels as soon as possible.  If he could catch them.  Hades, why
was it he could take on the mortal enemy of mankind without batting an
eyelid, yet two disobedient orphans had him skulking through the dark
like a lupus on the prowl?
     Oh, this whole scene had shaken him.  It was the fracking orphan
ship!  How could a disaster of this magnitude happen on a ship allocated
for carrying children?  And why was it that everyone here seemed to be
pulling double duty?  It almost put him in mind of the debacle that had
occurred on the Celestra.  People were working double shifts, but instead
of a taskmaster like Charka driving them to such lengths, the children
had been the inducement.  It had been to make sure they had what they
needed.
     But of all the resources in the fleet, surely the Council of Twelve
would make sure that this place, of all places, had what it needed.  If
they couldn't care adequately for their orphaned children, then didn't
that reflect upon their society as a whole?
     He could almost hear the derisive snort that would come out of
Starbuck if he was standing there listening to him.  Maybe it was his
ghost giving Boomer that edge of cynicism that had been looming
omnipresent over him like a oppressive cloud.  Stop it!
     Yeah, Starbuck had indicated on more than one occasion that the
system had failed many a child over the yahrens.  But then, Starbuck had
a penchant for histrionics.  And when pressed, he usually made light of
what he had started to say and then changed the subject.  For all his
dramatics, he hated to dwell on his past and it usually only came up when
he was well into his tankards.
     Boomer froze as he heard a faint movement behind him.  Hades, the
little buggers had circled around him!  Well, he could play that game
too.  He doubled back the way he came, replaying in his mind the
arrangement of storage containers and just how he could corral them and
back them into a wall.  Since there were two of them and only one of him,
there wasn't much choice really.  It wasn't as if he could shoot
them...though it had occurred to him at one point.
     This was perfect.  They were walking right into his trap.  He could
hear the odd faint movement ahead of him, and knew they were right on
target.  Well, at least he could wrap up this misadventure and get back
to looking for real victims.
     His body tensed as he readied his finger over the button on his
illuminator, ready to spring on the teens.  He turned the corner, almost
disappointed not to hear the whining voices of discontent as they walked
into a dead end.  Abruptly, a familiar voice called out, "Hold it!" and a
bright light shone in his face. 
     "Boomer!"
     "Apollo," he replied, shaking his head at the absurdity of the
situation.

* * * * *

     "What in Hades Hole was that?" Starbuck muttered, climbing to his
feet, the mild exertion once again exacerbating the pain in his arm.  His
hand was beginning to swell.  The tissue was getting tight, like a small
tunic after a big meal, and a strange tingling and numbness had set in
that were almost comforting.  At least it would be if it wasn't for the
constant throb further up his arm.  Apparently, his little rest break was
over.  He looked down the corridor and then up and down the maintenance
shaft, unsure where the shriek had originated.  "What direction do you
think it came from, Cullen?"
     He was well aware that his ears were still buzzing from his journey
through the engine rooms without safety equipment.  Maybe Cullen would
have a better sense of the direction.
     "I think it came from down there." Cullen pointed down the corridor. 
The path was poorly lit and almost spectral as he considered it.  
     "C'mon." Starbuck squatted down and held out his hand to the boy. 
He noted the reluctance with which it was received.  "It sounds like
there's someone else down here and they're hurt.  I'm gonna have to
conscript you, buddy."
     "Conscript?" the boy asked as he was pulled to his feet, his brown
eyes appearing enormous beneath the oversized life mask.
     "You're drafted." Starbuck smiled.  "I might need some help." He
winked at the boy as he again supported his arm, this time elevating his
hand over his chest.  He really needed to attend to it, but it would have
to wait for now.  He turned and pulled the emergency kit off the wall,
pulling the strap over his shoulder.
     Starbuck put his hand on Cullen's shoulder and they started down the
corridor.  He realized how terrifying all this must be for the boy.  He
also knew that if he wasn't feeling a hundred percent after his solium
exposure, despite the benefit of the life mask, that the kid would feel
worse.  He had to keep the child distracted.  Or was it focused?  No,
that was him.  "This is the search and rescue part of your training,
cadet.  We're going to locate that person and then assist in any way we
can. "
     "Are you sure it's...a person?" Cullen asked.  He knew the stories
he had heard about the lower decks had probably been to keep the younger
kids out of them, but still, there had been so many tales spun about the
kobolds that inhabited these levels that he couldn't help but wonder...
     "What's on your mind, Cullen?" Starbuck asked, picking up the pace a
bit.  
     "Well, Durban said that there are ..."
     "Someone help me!" A strangled cry of pain from further down the
corridor again resounded.
     "Let's go!" Starbuck started jogging.  It was the most idiotic idea
he'd had since the explosion.  Every jarring step sent a shooting pain
through his arm.  Sweat abruptly broke out on his forehead and he broke
his pace to a fast walk instead, the child at his side looking up
uncertainly.  He nodded at Cullen, biting his lip.  "I'm okay."
     Cullen nodded and jogged along side him to keep up with the
warrior's long, steady strides.  Durban had told him about the kobolds
and how they dwelled in dark places, luring unsuspecting children to an
uncertain fate.  That was why he had always escaped to the engine room. 
It was well lit and the constant presence of the workers deterred the
little people.  They liked solitude.  Until they were hungry.
     "Please!  Help!" 
     The voice was closer now.  In fact, Starbuck could see the dim
outline of someone up ahead, the upper body a faint silhouette in the
emergency lighting.  "We're coming!" he responded, again picking up his
pace and leaving the boy slightly behind.  
     A dark-haired teenager kneeled over another, his cheeks covered in
tears as he cradled her head on his lap.  "She won't wake up!"  His face
was a mask of misery.  "I think she's dead."
     Starbuck kneeled beside the pair, pulling life masks from the kit. 
"Put this on," he instructed the youth, thrusting the mask into his hand. 

     "But..." 
     "There's a solium leak.  Just put it on." Starbuck leaned over the
girl.  Her dark brown hair lay across the boy's lap, reminding him
vaguely of Athena's, only she was tiny in comparison.  Though her gentle
curves divulged her maturity, she wasn't much taller than Cullen.  It was
likely why her petite frame had succumbed to the solium while her
boyfriend's hadn't.  Reassuringly, she didn't have that look of death
that he was disturbed to realize he could recognize at a glance.  Her
pulse was slow and her respirations were shallow.  He placed the life
mask over her face, satisfied that her life signs were present at all.
     "Is she going to be alright?" The boy asked, stroking her hair.
     "I think so." Starbuck exhaled.  "How long have you two been down
here?"
     "I'm not sure." The youth replied, wiping away his tears.
     "What are you doing down here?" Starbuck asked, looking over his
shoulder to see Cullen hovering just behind them.
     The boy shrugged.  "Why didn't they tell us there was a solium leak? 
We wouldn't have come down here if they had." His blue eyes blazed with
fury.
     "Didn't they confine you to your rooms?" Starbuck asked.
     "Well, sure.  But they do that all the time." The boy replied
indifferently.
     Starbuck rolled his eyes.  "Help me get the strap over her head." 
If it hadn't been for the glaring fact that he would probably have pulled
the same stupid stunt when he was that age, he would be tearing a strip
off the kid right now.  
     The teen paused, really taking in the warrior's battered appearance
for the first time.  "What happened to you?" he asked as he gently
lowered the straps behind his girlfriend's head while the warrior held it
in place.
     "An explosion." Starbuck replied, tightening the straps and ensuring
the fit was snug.
     "Absolute zero," was the muttered reply.
     "Huh?" Starbuck asked.
     "The coolest." The boy interpreted.
     "Really?"  The warrior puffed in utter amazement.  "Do you realize
people are probably dead down here, kid?  Do you know how close you both
came to joining them?"       The youth dropped his gaze, apparently
chagrined.  Starbuck chewed his lip, reining in his annoyance.  "What's
your name?"
     "Ronin."
     "I'm Starbuck.  That's Cullen."
     The youth looked at him in surprise.  "You're Starbuck?  The
Starbuck?"
     "The one and only." Starbuck replied, "Why?"
     "I thought you'd be ...I don't know...bigger." Ronin replied in
disappointment as he looked at the regaled lieutenant and athlete who
looked less than impressive covered in dust and grime and wearing a life
mask, his uniform torn and filthy, his arm hanging uselessly at his side.
     "Well, sorry to let you down.  What's her name?" He leaned over her
again, assessing her breathing.  It was steady.
     "Julissa."
     Almost on cue, her eyes flickered open and she took a deep, gasping
breath.  She darted into a sitting position, smacking her forehead into
Starbuck's face as she immediately began retching into her mask.
     "What do we do?  What do we do?" Ronin cried, at the same time
reflexively moving away as spasms racked her body.
     The excruciating crunch of his nasal cartilage had distracted
Starbuck.  With his own mask askew, he quickly grabbed hers, pulling it
from Julissa's face, her vomit pouring onto his hand from its container. 
"Frack..." he groaned in revulsion, while the warm bile dripped from his
hand.  At the same time, blood seeped down his lips, a warm, acrid taste
in his mouth.
     She was now leaning over, dry heaving as she simultaneously wept
uncontrollably.
     "Easy.  You're okay, Julissa." Starbuck reassured her, nodding
towards Ronin for a little support.  The lieutenant distastefully tossed
the life mask aside, and wiped his hand on his pants before resettling
his own mask and pulling the last one from the emergency kit.  Yeah,
there was nothing more effective to cool teenage ardour than the sudden
eruption of emesis from your one true love.  A reluctant Ronin moved
tentatively back to her side, his hand patting her back
unenthusiastically.  Starbuck handed him the mask and watched as he put
it back over her face.
     "You need to wear it, Jules.  There's a solium leak." Ronin told her
when she moved to pull it away.
     She sniffed and wiped at her eyes, adjusting the mask and taking in
the disheveled adult and child.  "Is that why I feel so awful?" She
asked, leaning her head on Ronin's shoulder, seeking his comfort as she
studied the strangers.  She was sure she had seen the boy before, so he
obviously didn't belong to the warrior.
     Ronin nodded, "Yeah.  Jules, this is Starbuck.  He helped us out."
     "How are you feeling?" Starbuck asked her, wiping at his bloody nose
and lip beneath the breather.
     "Lieutenant Starbuck?  The triad player?" She asked, sitting up and
searching for some semblance of the dashing warrior behind the bedraggled
appearance.  Piecing blue eyes assessed her beneath a dusty, disheveled
mess of almost grey-looking hair.  His mask obscured any other features
she would consider familiar, never mind remotely attractive.
     "Yeah." He replied.
     "I just thought you'd be...I don't know...better looking." 

* * * * *

     "Well, still no sign of them, Boomer.  None of them.  It doesn't
make any sense.  We should have spotted them by now." Apollo reviewed the
positions of his teams, several whom, like Boomer's, had split up trying
to find the teens before they succumbed to the solium toxicity.
     "It's because they're on the move, Apollo.  It's the only reason we
could have missed them.  To top it off, they're avoiding us."
     "They're almost out of time.  They're not going to last without life
masks much longer."
     "I know." Boomer responded briefly.  It shouldn't be that difficult,
but the old ship was a maze of passageways that intertwined
inconceivably.  He had just checked in with Reya and Durban, and they
were still searching every compartment that they happened upon, but
without any luck.  The teens had disappeared.
     "There's still a chance, Boomer." Apollo told him after a micron.
     "Yeah." His voice was low.
     "I'm talking about Starbuck." Apollo clarified.  
     Boomer's sigh was the only reply.
     "Hey, this isn't like you.  What's going on, buddy?" Apollo asked
him.
     Boomer shook his head.  "I don't know.  You're right, there's still
a chance, however slight.  But there should have been some sign of him. 
A trail of blood.  A piece of ripped cloth.  Something.  Right?  Hades,
even the maintenance workers you found had some pieces left."
     "Yeah, they did."  An involuntary shudder at the scene on zeta deck
ran through him.  "You know Starbuck's a lucky son-of-a-daggit."
     "Luck runs out eventually."
     "That's when you start relying on your good looks." Apollo quipped.
     A faint smile crossed Boomer's strained features.  "You know, I
never gave it a lot of thought until today.  You, Starbuck, some of the
others...well, you've become the family that I lost during the
destruction.  I used to think it didn't matter, losing my squadron mates. 
Well, maybe that's not quite the right phrasing." He paused in thought,
even as he opened one more door and searched the room.
     "I guess we chose to refuse to let it matter too much." Apollo
suggested, sweeping the room with the lieutenant.  
     "Something like that.  Keep it superficial.  Keep it professional. 
People move on.  Some die." 
     Apollo nodded his agreement.  "Not many moving on anymore." 
     "Still a lot dying though." He paused at the doorway, checking the
room one last time.
     The Captain stopped in the hallway, placing a hand on his friend's
shoulder.  "Boomer, I feel the same way.  You and Starbuck are like
brothers to me.  That's why I can't give up believing in him unless I see
some evidence to the contrary."
     "Well, that's where we differ.  I never did see what happened to my
family.  Just a big fracking hole where my neighbourhood used to be,
Apollo.  That's what I found when I went home after the night of the
destruction." His eyes gazed intensely at his friend.
     "I'm sorry.  I forget how many people lost their entire families
that night.  I guess I was too busy grieving for my own."
     "Your mother, did you ever find out what happened to her?" Boomer
asked.
     Apollo dropped his hand.  "No.  Father felt she died when the house
was hit.  He was certain."
     "And you?" Boomer asked.
     "I don't know.  I guess somehow I still...hope that somehow she
survived.  I know it's not likely, but still..." He shrugged, unable to
explain his need to believe.
     Boomer nodded.  "The same reason you won't give up believing
Starbuck's alive."
     "I suppose hope is a big part of it.  And faith."
     "Faith in God, or faith in Starbuck?"
     "Well, after the destruction of the colonies, and all that we've
been through  since then, they're about equal." Apollo smiled ruefully.
     "Your father wouldn't like to hear that."
     "Which one?" Apollo replied with a dry chuckle.  "We got off topic
though.  You were saying that...you let us get too close?"
     "No." Boomer disagreed.  "Not that.  Just that it does matter.  If
Starbuck is dead, it's going to hurt as much as losing my family did."  A
faint shiver ran through him.  "I don't' know why, I just have this bad
feeling..."
     "I know." Apollo agreed softly.  "I feel it too."  He cleared his
suddenly thick throat.  "Let's get moving.  It's the only way we're going
to find out what's happened."

* * * * *

     It wasn't the first time that Starbuck's body had felt so exhausted
that every limb seemed as though it was settling onto the deck like a
puddle of liquid.  Even lifting his head seemed to require extra effort
as he looked over his group of charges.  The difference here was he
hadn't been pulling double or even triple shifts due to the necessity of
battle, he was merely worn out.  He could chalk that one up to the
solium.
     By the looks of Cullen and the teens, he wasn't the only one.  He
had told them they would take five centons to rest, but it had already
stretched to twenty.  Ronin and Julissa were sitting against the wall;
his arm around her and her head snuggled into his chest.  She appeared to
be sleeping, and Ronin stroked her hair gently as he stared blankly at a
spot on the opposite wall.  Cullen had positioned himself up against
Starbuck's side, pulling his knees up against his chest and resting his
head on top of his arms, his eyes closed.  He maintained a constant
contact with the warrior, whether subconsciously or not, the lieutenant
wasn't certain.
     Regardless, he didn't have the heart or the motivation to get them
moving now.  He and Cullen would still have a good centar of oxygen left
before their life masks' supply would be exhausted.  Realistically, they
wouldn't have that much further to go before they would be free of the
lower levels and would inevitably run into some rescue workers.  The
ordeal would be coming to an end soon.
     Starbuck began to tug at the sleeve that covered his broken arm.  He
really should look at it, and this was the first opportunity to do so. 
He blew out a breath and leaned forward, trying to ease his jacket off
his left arm first.  He sniffed derisively as even that maneuver proved
to be challenging.
     "Do you need help?" 
     Starbuck looked down to see Cullen peering up at him, his chin still
balanced on his crossed arms.  "Sure," he replied as he felt the boy grab
the sleeve of his flight jacket, tugging it off his shoulder.  "Thanks,
Buddy."
     Cullen nodded and climbed to his feet to retrieve the med kit.   The
warrior began to slowly pull the garment off his right arm, peeling it
off inside out, a millimetron at a time.  He could feel the resistance as
dried blood stuck to the garment, pulling on his wound.
     "Frack..." It felt like he was ripping the raw flesh apart from deep
in his arm.  Maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all.  At least it
had stopped bleeding.  If he ripped the cloth from his arm, it would
likely start oozing again.
     "Would this help?" Cullen pulled a bottle of cleansing solution from
the kit.
     "Uh...yeah.  It just might." Starbuck agreed.  "Can you dump it on?"
     "Sure." Cullen opened the bottle and started dumping the contents
over the warrior's extended arm.  He heard Starbuck's sudden hiss of
breath and stopped.  "Are you okay?"
     Starbuck nodded.  It stung, but he could live with it.  "Go ahead."
     Cullen gave the jacket a thorough dousing, aware of Ronin's eyes on
him.  The older boy nodded encouragingly at him.  "Okay, Starbuck.  Try
it now."
     Starbuck again started peeling back the layer of his jacket, this
time the cloth coming away easier.  It still hurt like Hades, but at
least it didn't feel like he was pulling his arm apart from the inside. 
He dropped the sodden cloth in a heap at his side.
     "Wow..." Cullen muttered.
     "Grotesque." Ronin added, as they watched the warrior peel back his
drenched sleeve, exposing a swollen, gaping wound with a fragment of bone
protruding from it.
     "What is that?" Cullen asked, fascinated.  He moved closer to look.
     "Bone." Starbuck replied vaguely, the mere sight of his radius
rending through his flesh, making him want to vomit.  Oh, and those
little white bands of tissue that stood out so emphatically against the
meaty red piece of muscle beneath it.  He sucked in his breath through
his teeth and averted his gaze.
     "Are you okay?" Ronin asked, carefully keeping his gaze on the pale
man instead of his arm.  Frankly, he kind of wished the warrior had left
his arm enclosed in his jacket where it was out of sight.  
     "Great." Starbuck replied.
     "What do we do now, Starbuck?" Cullen drew the lieutenant's
attention.  He dove back into the med kit.
     "Uh...is there any of that...cleanser left?" Starbuck asked him.  He
felt a bit light headed and was glad he was sitting down.
     "Yes.  Should I dump some more on?" Cullen asked enthusiastically.  
     Starbuck nodded briefly, preparing himself.  
     It wasn't quite so bad this time.  In fact, it was almost soothing
as the cold liquid hit his hot flesh, and it was hot.  He had probably
sliced it open on some filthy piece of jagged metal, and an infection was
likely already setting in.
     "Now what?" Cullen asked.
     "Bandage." Starbuck murmured.
     "Clean your hands first, Cullen." A soft voice interrupted.
     Julissa lifted her head from Ronin's chest.  "You're going to make
it even worse if you touch that clean bandage with those hands."
     "Oh." Cullen replied, again digging through the kit.  He found a
tube of gel and spread it on his hands, rubbing them vigorously.  
     "What is that?" Ronin asked.
     "Ethylgel." The boy replied as he examined his amazingly clean
hands.  He opened a package, yellowed with age, and held the gauze up to
the warrior's arm.  "Can you lift your arm?"
     Starbuck lifted his arm, supporting it with his left hand.  He
winced as the bandage was wrapped loosely around the wound, a fresh
sanguineous stain on the dressing.  "Better make it a bit tighter,
Cullen."
     Cullen nodded, and unraveled the bandage again.  He chewed his lip
as he wrapped the arm snugly this time.  He looked up to meet Starbuck's
eyes, noticing he wasn't the only biting his lip.  "Is it okay?"
     Starbuck nodded, a light sheen of sweat on his face.  "Good job,
Buddy.  I didn't know I had a medic with me, or I would have done this
sooner."     
     Cullen smiled in response.  "Here."
     Starbuck looked down to see a hypospray in the boy's hand.  He knew
it was a part of the kit.  He also knew that if the dose was too high, he
wouldn't be able to think clearly enough.  He shook his head regretfully;
reminding himself it wouldn't be much longer.  "I'm fine.  C'mon, we
better get moving."
     Long, drawn out sighs resounded from the two teens, but Cullen
climbed resolutely to his feet, hoisting the medical kit on his own
shoulder.  "Where to next?"
     "We find the next stairwell or ladder to get us to the upper decks. 
It shouldn't take too long." Starbuck slowly stood up, relieved to find
that his head had stopped spinning.  He tucked his arm against his chest.
"How are you feeling now, Julissa?"
     "Not that great." She replied, as Ronin helped her up.  "But better
than I did when I woke up."
     Ronin put an arm protectively around her.  "The ladder we came down
can't be that far ahead of us, Jules."
     "Good," she replied, letting the teen guide her.
     They trudged wearily along the corridor.  Starbuck couldn't help but
wonder where the rescue team was.  Surely, they should have come across
someone by now.  Then again, maybe the damage was worse than he first
thought.  The fire could have flared up again.  There could have been
more than one explosion.  It could have been complicated by a Cylon
attack.  The possibilities were endless.  Of course, it was all
conjecture and he wouldn't be able to confirm any of it until he got them
out of there, or they stumbled upon some evidence of further calamity.
     He spotted another comm unit, and once again tried to contact the
bridge.  It was as dead as he felt.  He let out a deep sigh.  It had to
be the solium toxicity that was making him feel so despondent, when he
was only a few decks away from freedom.  Lords, how he'd love to lie down
again and rest.
     "There's the ladder." Ronin told them, pointing ahead in the muted
light.
     They all seemed to pick up the pace as they approached.  The shaft
was connected to both upper and lower decks, as seemed to be the general
rule on the old ship.  They paused at the bottom, looking up.
     "Is there an illuminator in the kit?" Starbuck asked as he peered up
into darkness.  Some of the emergency lights seemed to be out, and he
couldn't see the top of the ladder.
     "No.  I already checked." Cullen replied.
     "Okay, wait here.  I just want to make sure it's clear." Starbuck
told them, putting his foot on the bottom rung.
     "Why don't you let me?" Ronin put a hand on the warrior's arm. 
"Jules and I came down here not forty centons ago.  It was clear then."
     Starbuck paused, considering the teen.  Ronin was right.  Just
because it was dark, was no reason to suspect that there was a problem. 
Besides, the youth could certainly climb one Hades of a lot easier than
he could.  He should really bring up the rear, so he could be there for
Cullen.  He gave the ladder a shake.  It was solid.  "All right, kid. 
Just take it slow.  Okay?"
     "Do you call everyone, kid?" Cullen grumbled.
     Starbuck smiled beneath his mask.  "No...kid." He winked at the boy,
stepping back.
     "I'll be careful." Ronin told him as he started climbing.
     The teen was going a little faster than Starbuck would have liked,
especially when he could barely see.  Ah, the blind self-confidence and
immortality of youth.   The warrior wondered fleetingly when he had lost
that.  He could almost hear Boomer's voice heckling him that he hadn't.  
     Within microns, Ronin had disappeared from sight.  Starbuck craned
his neck as he heard the boy continuing up a rung at a time.  He shook
his head slightly and clenched his jaw, not liking the inexplicable, yet
uneasy feeling that had settled on him.  It was that sixth sense that
always seemed to kick in when...
     "Starbuck!  It's sealed!" Ronin called back down in despair.

* * * * *

     It was a complete mystery to him right now.  Why in Hades hadn't it
occurred to Starbuck, that in a situation where there was a solium leak
on the lower decks they would seal off the upper decks?  Apparently,
along with his injured arm and solium toxicity, he had at some point been
hit in the head by the stupid fairy.
     "Ronin, there should be a wheel on the hatch.  Turn it." Starbuck
shouted back up to the teen.
     "I tried.  I can't.  It's seized!" The teen yelled back down, his
grunts of exertion indicating he was trying again.
     "Seized?" Starbuck muttered.  He looked at Cullen, whose brown eyes
were staring at him with trust and a confidence that he wasn't sure he
deserved.  
     "What now?" Julissa asked.
     "I'm going to help him." Starbuck replied, putting a foot on the
bottom rung.
     "Are you sure you should?" she asked, a frown of concern beneath her
mask.  She looked at his broken arm, where the stain of fresh blood stood
out against the pristine white bandage. "You don't look so good."
     "I'll look a lot worse...Never mind." He muttered, biting off the
retort and heading up the ladder.  That centar of oxygen that they had
left was running low after the time they had wasted patching him up.
     "He is a warrior, you know." Cullen was saying to the girl.
     Starbuck didn't hear her reply as he focused on getting to the top
in one piece.  Again, he hooked his arm around the outside of the
vertical bar, using it for counter balance as he ascended.  Just like
before, every jar and jostle of the injured limb shot waves of agony
through him.  He paused briefly, catching his breath and resting his
sopping brow on the cold metal.
     "Are you coming?" Ronin asked from just above him.
     "Yeah, yeah." Starbuck muttered.  They were almost as bad as Drill
Sergeant Brand from his Academy days.  Well, maybe he was exaggerating. 
He blew out a breath and climbed the last few rungs until he was opposite
Ronin, as planned.  "Okay, let's try together on three."
     "Okay.  One, two..."
     "Just a centon, kid." Starbuck snapped.
     "Why does it have to be on your order?" Ronin snarled back.
     "Because, I'm trying to figure out a way to hold onto a fracking
ladder with a broken arm, and twist a wheel simultaneously, without
falling off." Starbuck growled back while hooking a leg around the metal
bar to stabilize himself.
     "Oh." Ronin replied more quietly.  "Sorry."
     "Forget it." Starbuck sighed, grabbing the wheel with his hand and
testing his balance.  "Ready?"
     "Yeah."
     "Two, three." Starbuck counted and they pulled on the wheel.
     It didn't budge.
     "Again." Starbuck told him.
     Part of him wished he had Jolly, Boomer or Apollo there with him to
yank on the wheel.  He could almost believe it would have made a
difference.  Until they stopped and he palpated the surface of the hatch,
the slight bubbling giving away the corroded nature of the metal.
     "Starbuck, why won't it open?  I can see them sealing us off, but we
should be able to get through.  Shouldn't we?" Ronin asked, a trickle of
sweat running down his temples.
     "Yeah." The lieutenant nodded briefly in frustration.  "It's a rusty
old piece of mong that hasn't been properly maintained." Like the rest of
the decrepit old hunk of feculence that was the Orphan Ship.
     "Now what?" Ronin asked, a note of desperation in his voice as he
picked up on Starbuck's negativity. 
     "We try the next one." Starbuck replied.  "Don't worry, kid.  We'll
get out of here.  Remember, there's a rescue crew looking for us."
     "I hope they brought a blow torch with them." Ronin muttered as he
started to scamper down, watching the injured warrior follow more slowly.
     
* * * * *

     Just what they needed.  One more complication.  Boomer had told both
Reya and Durban that they were to stay in touch with him as they
continued their search for the teens.  Reya had done just that, but for
some reason, he couldn't raise Durban.
     And to top it off, he and Apollo had tried to open several of the
hatches that sealed gamma deck off from the lower levels in that section. 
They couldn't dislodge them.  Apollo had wrenched his shoulder, and
Boomer was sure he had just ruptured something in his groin.  You're
getting old, Boom-Boom.
      "Jolly and Giles are on their way." Apollo told him as he rubbed
the right side of his neck.  Right now it merely burned, but within a
centar or so, he knew it would tighten up worse than a group of burnt out
pilots in the Officer's Club when drinks were on the house.  He could see
Boomer pressing on his abdomen in obvious discomfort.  "Are you okay?"
     "Great.  Remind me to blame Starbuck for this if we find him."
Boomer griped as he felt something bulging beneath his skin like a Great
Aquarian Pond Worm.  "Is Giles bringing a can opener?"
     "Something like that." Apollo smiled faintly.  What a fracking
disaster this rescue mission was turning out to be.  He'd be filling out
quality assurance reports until Starbuck got sealed.  He winced,
realizing that was probably a bad analogy under the circumstances.
     The Orphan Ship was now adrift, traveling under its forward
momentum.  That wouldn't last much longer, and then she'd be dead in
space.  He knew the Commander and Colonel would be deciding now how to
best deal with that while they sent teams of engineers and other
personnel to try and get the old girl operational again.
     Of course, several hatches were operating normally.  That was clear,
because they had had to send most members of the teams through them
already.  But here, the covers for the openings had been improvised. 
They had probably come from a scrap heap somewhere; recycled parts that
had qualified for the passenger refit, but were never properly
reconditioned.  The rust and grime on the hatches attested to that.  It
was likely on a schedule of operations somewhere, with an asterisk beside
it.
     The fact of the matter was that the decks below them were the only
ones that hadn't been searched compartment by grueling compartment. 
Apollo had had to divert some of his manpower to the disaster site.  The
reality of the situation was getting the Orphan Ship running was more of
a priority than finding one man and a small boy.  Well, he could add two
teens to that tally now as well.
     Yeah, for all Apollo knew Starbuck could be directly below him now.
     "You know, he could be right below us." Boomer mused.
     "I know."
     "Frack." Boomer sat himself down beside the hatch, trying to find a
somewhat comfortable position.  There wasn't one.  "We could try our
lasers."
     "Well...I think the metal would just swell and make it even tighter. 
Might help with the rust though." Apollo pondered.
     "Uh...I meant..." Boomer drew his weapon and held it by the barrel. 
He banged it on the hatch.  A dull clang resonated through the corridor.
     Apollo grinned at him over the hatch.  "Brilliant."

* * * * *

     "Where did that come from?" Starbuck asked the kids, as the metallic
clang filled the air.
     "Down there!" the three pointed further along the passageway,
quickly making their way in that direction.  
     Hope was a wonderful stimulant.  Starbuck followed behind, his own
spirits buoyed.  Contact with Gamma Deck.  Oh, it wasn't a message from
the Lords of Kobol, but just knowing that they hadn't given up looking
for them was encouraging.
     The hatches seemed to be a good hundred metrons apart.  They heard a
couple more clangs as they made their way to the next ladder.  
     "Do you think they're trying to communicate with us?" Julissa asked
Starbuck.  "Is it some kind of code?"
     "Lords, I hope not." Starbuck shook his head.  That whole series of
ancient dots and dashes that they had briefly touched on in the Academy
was fine if you happened to have the equipment...oh, and remembered
exactly what the code was.  Hades, he had known he would never use it in
reality so he hadn't exactly put a lot of energy into memorizing it.  He
was going to be a viper pilot, after all.  Of course, then he hadn't been
aware that he and Apollo would end up posted on the Galactica together. 
Apollo ate up that kind of completely superfluous information that the
average warrior would never bother with.  After all, the walking textbook
might use it one day.  It would be just his luck that the Captain would
be trying to communicate with him by the archaic code, despite the fact
that a resounding clang would never clearly sound like a dot or a dash.
     "What do you mean?" Cullen asked curiously.
     "Well, there used to be an ancient code, but with the echo down here
I couldn't make it out."  Yeah, the kids didn't really need to know that
he couldn't remember it regardless.  He had already slid downward on the
hero scale inexorably by being not "big enough" in Ronin's eyes and not
"good looking enough" in Julissa's.  He sighed.  Just get them out alive,
Bucko.  You can rebuild your ego later.
     Ronin was already half way up when Starbuck caught up to the
energetic teen at the foot of the ladder.  Another clang echoed down from
the hatch above them.  
     "Don't kill yourself trying to open it, kid.  It's probably as stuck
as the last one," Starbuck told him as he followed.  He was actually
beginning to master the art of one-armed climbing.  Now, if he could just
avoid banging...Frack!
     "Yeah.  It's seized, Starbuck.  Maybe if we both go at her." Ronin
suggested, his adrenaline surging at the thought of getting out of there,
despite the amount of trouble he knew he would get in for being there in
the first place.
     "Keep in mind they're banging on the hatch, not smiling down at us. 
It's good and stuck.  We just need to let them know we're here."
     Ronin banged on the hatch with his fist in frustration.  The ensuing
dull thud was insignificant.  
     "Easy, Ronin."
     "Well, what am I supposed to use?  My head?"
     "Hmm.  Actually, that's not such a bad idea." Starbuck grinned at
the scowl the teen sent his way.  "I'll use my blaster."
     "Oh."  The youth shook his head at missing the obvious.  He hoped it
had something to do with the solium poisoning.  Stupid, was not how he
usually thought of himself.
     Starbuck once again positioned himself opposite the teen.  He
anchored himself and pulled his laser, reaching across his body to do so. 
As much as his instinct told him to turn it around, maneuvering laser
pistols at the top of ladderwells with his non-dominant hand had become
difficult of late.
     "Do you want me to do it?" Ronin impatiently watched the warrior
holding the laser awkwardly while attempting futilely to tuck it under an
arm...and then abandoning the idea.  He clearly didn't want to drop it
while changing his grip to the barrel.
     Starbuck sniffed.  Why exactly he thought he needed to do it himself
eluded him.  "Just don't shoot me."  He smiled as the teen's face lit up. 
"The safety is on.  See?"  Ronin nodded.  "Hold it by the barrel and hit
the hatch lightly."
     Ronin nodded abruptly, thinking the warrior was giving far too many
instructions on tapping a hatch with a weapon.  He took the blaster
eagerly, enjoying the weight of it in his hand.  He couldn't help it; he
took aim at a girder some distance away and vocalized a couple sound
effects to add to the atmosphere, as he blasted the Cylon to Hades
Hole...well, in his imagination anyhow..
     Starbuck tried to hold back the grin of amusement, but seeing a
fifteen-yahren-old kid pretending to be a child playing warriors and
centurions...it was too much.  Yeah, he should be giving him heck for
goofing off, but truth be known, he probably would have done the same
thing at that age.  "Ronin."
     "Sorry." The teen smiled unabashed.  He grabbed the weapon as
Starbuck had directed and whacked it on the hatch somewhat gently.  "How
was that?"
     "Good.  Now wait and see if they answer." Starbuck told him
wrinkling his brow in consternation, as the smell of the solium seemed to
grow stronger.  He sucked in a deep breath realizing the cool flow of
oxygen had abruptly ceased.  Even as the answering clang sounded from
above and Ronin's whoop of joy rang through the area, he was heading
quickly down the ladder with one thing in mind.
     A couple hundred metrons or so back down the corridor was another
life mask covered in vomit, but still functional.  They were going to
need it.

* * * * *

     Boomer couldn't help the chuckle of delight that escaped when he
heard the answering signal from below them.  He looked across at Apollo
and almost felt like hugging him, as the Captain's twinkling eyes and
grin of joy and relief beamed back at him.  "He's alive."
     Apollo quirked his eyebrow and gave a half nod, reining in his own
excitement, "It could be the teens...or the boy...or even Durban."
     "It's Starbuck." Boomer averred.  "Probably using his weapon."
     It was a complete turnaround.  This was the Boomer that Apollo was
accustomed to, not the pessimistic, reflective man of the last centar.  
Mind you, in hindsight, Apollo hadn't been much better.  Though it was on
a different level for each of them, they had needed a sign of some sort
to give them a little hope.  "All the same, I'm just going to check in
with the other search parties.  The way things have been going today,
that could be Jolly and Giles down there."
     Boomer let out an amused puff of disgust.  "Ain't that the truth."
Still, the smile hovered on his lips as he listened to the Captain
contact the others.


     Cullen still had oxygen.  That was what really mattered.  Starbuck
had told the kids to sit tight far enough away from the hatch and he'd be
back in centons.  Lords, he had even taken the time to teach them how to
buddy-breathe, just in case Cullen's oxygen was as low as his.  Then he
had clasped Ronin's arm, leaving him in charge.  Now he was pacing back
towards the abandoned life mask.  Out of frackin' oxygen.  It boggled the
mind.
     He didn't know why he was surprised.  After the appalling state of
disrepair of the Orphan Ship in general, why would he have assumed that
the emergency kits would have been in any better condition?  The tiny
cylinders that usually provided a couple centars worth of the precious
life-sustaining O2 had de-energized.  
     Oh, heads were gonna roll when he got off this malingering,
dilapidated piece of grunge rot.  He gritted his teeth muttering
obscenities and couldn't help but wonder if he had also been guilty of
speed checking during inspection duties, as he hovered on the brink of
exhaustion while he rotated between patrols, missions, filing reports and
extra duties.  Sure, he had faithfully checked off that med kits were
present and accounted for, but had he ever disassembled one and checked
the gas cylinders in the life mask?  No.  Had he ever tested each hatch,
verifying the fit and functionality?  No.  Had he ever...  Fracking
bloody Hades Hole!
     They were all under some delusion that things on the other ships ran
as efficiently as they did on the Galactica.  Perhaps inspections were
treated slightly cursory since every Captain was responsible for ensuring
that standards were maintained.  Too many of these old freighters had
been ready for the scrap yards when out of necessity they had been
utilized to transport as many humans as possible out of the death trap
that was the twelve colonies.  Yeah, as convoluted and strict as the
military regulations seemed sometimes, they ensured that the old warbird
kept on going in the best possible condition she could be in.
     Then again, perhaps part of the problem was that the inspection crew
could drop off its list of required repairs, etc, to each Captain,
subsequently filing them with the Colonel, assuming that within the
standard timeframe that each point would be attended to on a priority
basis, but that still didn't necessarily give each ship the manpower or
parts to make the repairs.  
     At the end of each day, the Council just wanted to know that all
ships were running, no one was starving, the Cylons weren't attacking,
and that Earth was somewhere on the cosmic horizon.  The fleet was simply
eking out an existence while traveling through the vastness of space
trying to escape their mortal enemies and find the elusive planet Earth.
     Thank the Lords there had been a few token crumbs to guide them on
their path.  It was just enough to make a cynic believe that there really
was a shining planet at the end of their journey.  But Starbuck knew if
it hadn't been for Commander Adama and his unwavering belief in their
quest, he may have written it all off sectars ago as one hundred percent,
Alpha Grade, unadulterated felgercarb.
     Sure, he would have followed along just the same.  He took orders. 
That was his job.  Most of them he even followed.  But somehow, having a
venerable man like Adama as their commander and leader, made most of the
usual felger worthwhile.  There was something so inspiring about the
man's unshakeable faith and determination.
     It was ironic, because he probably would have criticized or
ridiculed it in most other men.  He didn't trust blind faith of any type,
for the most part.  You had to keep your eyes open in life, check your
blind spots.  After all, just when you decided to sit back and get
comfortable, well, that's when something would hit you -zing!--up the
rear thruster.  
     But just when he'd start to feel a little doubt, or become a bit
skeptical, then something like the Ship Of Lights would come along and
stack the deck in Adama's favour.  Yeah, it was like some greater being
was watching over the man, maybe even watching over them all.  Whether it
was God or some advanced race...well, it was just too damned bad they
weren't paying more attention to the Orphan Ship.
     Up ahead he could see his abandoned flight jacket and knew the life
mask would be in that general area.  They were so damn close to getting
out.  He had to assume that if his rescuers were banging on the hatches
instead of opening them, that they were awaiting some magnificent tool to
correct the situation.  Meanwhile, his little group might perish from
solium toxicity while they waited.  How long would it take?  Would he be
better off waiting it out or taking them further along in hopes of
getting out sooner?  Sagan, if they ended up buddy breathing, they
wouldn't get too far too fast.
     Starbuck spotted the mask, kneeling down and using his discarded
jacket to wipe it clean.  He promptly held it over his face taking
several deep breaths as he slumped back against the wall.  The mask
smelled like vomit.  Then again, after just centons without oxygen he
felt like vomiting, so maybe it was appropriate.
     That fracking headache was back with a vengeance too.  He wondered
what tortuous medical treatments he would have to undergo to get the mong
out of his system.  Lords, he was just so tired of it all.  So frackin'
tired...
     A low moan from further down the corridor startled him out of his
self-pity.  He snorted self-deprecatingly at the thought that he was
supposed to rescue another victim.  Wasn't it someone else's turn to
rescue him?  Wasn't it?  Hello?  
     The moan was a little louder and more insistent the second time.  Or
maybe that was just his imagination.  Apparently, no one but him was
keeping score on the whole rescue tally scenario.  He wearily slid
himself back up the wall, briefly turning to lean against it in order to
secure the mask strap around his head with one hand.  He reminded himself
that the injured person could be someone who had been hurt while trying
to find him.  Move your lazy, self-absorbed astrum, Bucko.
     He could barely see the shape of someone lying against the wall.  As
he got closer, he could make out civilian clothing, but the victim's face
was turned towards the wall.  He hurried over, cursing the fact that he
only had one mask and that he had left the med kit with the kids.
     It was a man.  He appeared to be breathing, but the moaning had
stopped.  Starbuck squatted on the deck beside him, giving his shoulder a
shake.  "Hey, are you okay?"
     Like a striking serpent, the man whirled on him, upsetting his
precarious balance, and causing him to tumble back onto his astrum.  He
barely registered the face beneath the respirator before a leg kicked out
savagely, connecting with Starbuck's right arm.  A flash of agony filled
his mind and body before the same boot caught him square in the forehead.
     The darkness that seemed to swallow him whole was in contrast a
blissful experience.

* * * * *

     Boomer paced restlessly over the hatch.  Jolly and Giles would be
there any micron, and then the waiting would be over.  He could even hear
the clap of Colonial boots echoing down the corridor.
     "There they are." Apollo spoke somewhat unnecessarily.  Once the
initial elation of making contact had passed, they were both impatient to
see who was on the other side of the hatch.  Especially since the tapping
had stopped some centons ago.
     The warriors walked in single file, Giles leading the way.  Between
them and across their shoulders lay a crossbar.  Jolly also had a heavy
pack slung over his other shoulder.
     "A bar?  That's it?" Boomer asked astounded.  Somehow he had been
expecting a huge, technical piece of industrial equipment that would tear
the hatch off its hinges...or something equally dramatic.
     "Good to see you too, Boomer." Giles returned.
     "It'll work, Boomer." Jolly assured him as he set down his load, his
breather slightly foggy.  "We'll hook it through the wheel of the hatch,
and lean on it.  All of us.  That will increase the torque."
     "And if it doesn't work, we brought the biggest, gallmonging,
heavy-duty drill you ever set eyes on, and about a letron of lubricant."
Giles added.
     Apollo nodded in approval.  "Good idea."
     They moved with the ease of men long accustomed to working together,
and were soon in position, Jolly and Boomer on one end, Giles and Apollo
on the other.
     "On three." Jolly said, proceeding to count them down.
     A torturous, grinding sound filled the air as the corroded metal was
forced a millimetron at a time and the wheel slowly turned.  
     "I feel like a frackin'...beast of burden." Giles groused as he
leaned into the bar, listening to Apollo's answering grunts of exertion.
     "Put a little more...energy into pushing...and less into whining,
Giles." Jolly gasped from the opposite side.
     "Well, I wasn't built for this kind of work." Giles complained, "The
Lords had something...a bit more refined in mind for me."
     "Too bad you flunked out of cosmetology." Boomer retorted, the sweat
running off of him, as a stabbing pain tore through his groin with the
exertion.  
     With a final shriek of  insurgence, the hatch surrendered to their
brute force.  Jolly pulled out the bar and quickly finished turning the
wheel and then, with Apollo's help, pulled open the hatch. 
     For a man of his bulk, Jolly moved quickly.  Before the Captain had
straightened up, he was already heading down the ladder.
     "Throw down the emergency kit, Skipper.  We have three kids down
here sharing a couple life masks." Jolly shouted up the ladder.
     "Starbuck?" Apollo asked as he threw down the kit, turning to
follow.  He noticed Boomer put a hand to his ear, as if listening over
his personal communicator.  Probably Reya checking in again.
     "No sign of him." Jolly yelled up, already pulling the mask out as
he strode to where the children sat huddled together on the deck.  "I'm
Lieutenant Jolly.  We're going to get you out of here."  He kneeled down
and put the mask on the smallest child, his eyes wide with fright.  "Do
you two still have oxygen flow?" Jolly asked the others.
     When Cullen's oxygen had cut out, it had taken all their
concentration to focus on taking two normal breaths and handing the mask
to the next person, as they avoided the inhalation of the toxic gas. 
Ronin thanked the Lords that Starbuck had taken the precious centons to
teach them what to do.  However, he was sure the lieutenant should have
been back by now.  "We're fine, but Starbuck...he went to get another
mask when he ran out of oxygen... He hasn't come back."  Ronin refastened
his mask as he pointed down the corridor.
     "Skipper..." Jolly started.
     "I heard him, Jolly." Apollo joined them.  "How long ago, son?"
     "Not long.  Maybe five centons." Ronin replied.  "It was just a
couple hatches back.  I don't know what could have happened."
     Apollo nodded.  "Boomer!"
     Boomer was slowly making his way down the ladder, his groin aching
with discomfort each time he bent that knee at the hip.  "Yo!" 
     Giles, above him, was practically treading on his hands as he waited
for the slower man to descend.  "Get a move on, Boomer," he was
muttering.
     "Starbuck went down the passageway about five centons ago to get
another life mask." Apollo told them, looking at his friend in concern.
     "Thanks the Lords," Boomer picked up the pace, wincing in pain. 
"Durban just checked in.  Seems his communicator was switched off." 
     "Are you kidding me?" Apollo shook his head in disgust.
     "I wish." Boomer set his foot down on the deck in relief.  Lords,
what would he do if he had to help carry Starbuck out of there? 
"Apollo...you know I want to go, but...maybe Jolly would be more help
just in case..."
     Apollo nodded in agreement.  Good ole Boomer.  He knew his
limitations and wasn't afraid to admit it.  "I know, Buddy.  We'll get
him.  You and Giles get the kids out of here.  And for Sagan's sake,
leave the hatch open."
     The warriors headed off at a run.  The men knew the ramifications of
inhaling too much solium.  There was no other reason for Starbuck to not
have reappeared.  How long had he been without oxygen?
     Within half a centon they spotted him, lying face down along the
corridor.  He was eerily still.  They raced to his side.
     Apollo grabbed him by the shoulder and rolled him onto his back.  A
bloody gash on Starbuck's forehead made his skin appear almost white,
filling the Captain with dread.  He abruptly checked for a pulse,
repositioning his fingers when he didn't feel one at first.  It was
faint, but present all the same.  "He's alive."
     Right on cue, Jolly handed over a life mask  "Thankfully, he makes a
habit out of inhaling noxious fumes.  Passed out and fell on his head?"
     "Guess so." Apollo replied, securing the mask behind his friend's
head.  Not much further along he could see what looked like Starbuck's
flight jacket and a life mask lying abandoned.  "Why wouldn't he have
taken it along the first time?"
     "I don't know.  Doesn't make much sense." Jolly replied, eying
Starbuck's arm.  The dressing was saturated with blood.  He pulled out a
bio-scanner, running it over the supine warrior.  "We'd better unwrap
that bandage and have a look."
     "What does it show?"
     "Fractured.  I don't think he's severed anything major, but by the
looks of that blood, we should probably check and make sure." Jolly
gently raised Starbuck's arm, nodding at the Captain to proceed.
     "Thanks." Apollo muttered, gritting his teeth and beginning to
unwrap the soiled bandage.
     "You're the Captain." Jolly smiled wanly in reply.
     They both winced when the dressing was removed and revealed the
protruding bone sticking through the swollen, beefy flesh.  Fresh blood
oozed from around the bone, as if it was a more recent injury than the
bandage indicated.
     "He must have smashed it again when he fell." Jolly surmised.
     "How bad is it?  Should we try to reduce it, or just leave it?"
Apollo asked.
     "Your call.  Better scan it again." Jolly suggested.
     Apollo picked up the scanner and assessed the limb again.  "It looks
clean.  Have you ever done this before, Jolly?"
     "Have you?" Jolly deferred his answer.
     "No.  Just on a dummy at the Academy." 
     "Frack." Jolly wrinkled his face in revulsion.  "Okay, I have.  My
kin wanted me to pursue a career in field medicine.  Unfortunately, I
discovered that I can't stand the sight of blood." He smiled ruefully. 
"You get in behind him and support his arm.  Thank the Lords, he's
unconscious for this."
     As Jolly helped sit the limp man up, Apollo slid in behind Starbuck
and pulled the warrior back against his chest.  "I almost wish we could
be," he said quietly, regretting that they hadn't brought a med tech.    
  
     "Amen to that.  Now hold on tight to his shoulder.  I'll do the
rest."
     For the first time since he had known Starbuck, Apollo was thankful
that the man was inclined to wear his hair a bit on the long side.  Right
now the matted mess of dark-blond, dirt-covered hair sticking out in
various directions from under the strap of the life mask, obstructed his
view of what Jolly was doing.  Instead, he felt Starbuck's shoulder jerk
and a slight tremble run through his friend's body, before he again sunk
limply back against the Captain.
     "How's it look, Jolly?" 
     "Just a centon, Skipper." Jolly replied, taking a few deep breaths
and trying to forget the feel of Starbuck's bone's moving under his
ministrations.  He turned back to rifle through the med kit, wiping the
sweat from his brow and thanking his lucky stars that he had become a
Colonial Warrior.
     "Jolly?" 
     "I'm just trying to find an immobilizer.  I'm sure there was one in
here."
     A faint moan escaped Starbuck's lips and his head lifted slightly
before lolling back onto his chest.  
     "Hurry.  He's starting to wake up." Apollo encouraged him.
     "Here it is." He held up the item triumphantly, before turning back
to once again wrap the arm in a clean dressing.  "Nothing fancy.  Just
clean and covered."
     Apollo nodded as he watched the lieutenant place Starbuck's limb in
the immobilizer and then secure it around his neck.  
     "Lean him forward, so I can secure the waist strap." Jolly told him. 
Starbuck's head slumped onto Jolly's shoulder as Apollo propped him
forward.  He reached around the warrior, and fastened the strap, pulling
it tight.  "Okay."  When Apollo pulled Starbuck back, Jolly looked up to
see confused blue eyes staring into him own.  "How ya doing, Bucko?"
     "Starbuck?" Apollo asked, still feeling the dead weight of his
friend leaning against him.  The lieutenant's head lifted slightly, like
that of a newborn, as it teetered uncertainly before again drooping
limply.
     Jolly shook his head.  "He's out again."
     "Let's get him out of here, Jolly."

* * * * *

     The pounding of his head, the throbbing of his arm, and familiar
voices dragged Starbuck from the relative security of oblivion.  He was
lying on his back on the deck.  He knew that because he had a very clear
view of two pairs of Colonial boots, both in need of a good spit and
polish.  He hoped the Colonel wasn't around.
     The cool flow of oxygen leaked up from a life mask, making his eyes
water.  It wasn't situated quite right.  He moved to shift it and a
jagged pain shot through his right arm.
     "Starbuck?"
     Two sets of eyes peered down at him from behind respirators. 
Something about a respirator seemed relevant, but he couldn't quite place
it...
     "Hey, Buddy.  Are you okay?"
     Apollo?
     "Did you get that?" Jolly asked.
     "No.  Say again, Starbuck."
     His lips were parched and he licked them.  It was like a culmination
of all his worst hangovers in one.  That didn't explain the arm though. 
Mind you, there was that time in Scorpio City...
     "Can we turn up the concentration of the oxygen?" Apollo asked
Jolly, gazing down at his dazed friend in concern.
     "On our respirators we can.  Not these life masks.  They're a bit
archaic."
     "I'll trade with him." Apollo reached behind his head to unfasten
the heavy-duty breather.
     "Hello down there!" suddenly boomed from above.
     Both warriors stood up, looking up the ladder with relief.  They had
easily carried Starbuck down the corridor, but the ladder presented some
difficulties.  They were tossing around ideas on how to get him up it,
and were just about to comm for help, when they had heard him groan in
pain.
     "Captain!  Jolly!  You two down there?"
     "Better make that 'us three', Greenbean." Apollo replied with a
smile.
     Within microns the lieutenant had joined them.  "Boomer sent us. 
How's he doing?"
     "So so." Jolly replied.
     "Who's 'us'?" Apollo asked simultaneously as another pair of legs
came into view.
     "That's med tech Xanthe."
     "Thank you, Boomer." Jolly exclaimed.
     "And Ensign Cree is on her heels." 
     The med tech dropped to the deck, nodding at the men, and knelt down
beside her patient, immediately beginning an assessment.  She ran her
bio-scanner over the lieutenant, inputting numbers into her medical
compupad.   She then pulled a life mask out of her kit, applying it to
Starbuck and making some adjustments to the flow.  She shook her head in
consternation, tucking her greying hair behind an ear.
     "What's wrong, Xanthe?" Apollo asked.
     "It's a wonder he's still breathing, his levels are so elevated. 
I've put him on a hundred percent oxygen.  That should help bring him
around.  I think the arm can wait until he hits the Galactica Life
Station though.  There's a lot of tissue damage.  I don't want to mess
with that one."  She pulled her hypospray out of the kit, hesitating to
use it when she realized the warrior hadn't so much as winced.
     "The solium toxicity, are there any long term effects?" Apollo
asked.
     "That remains to be seen.  The brain and heart are the most
susceptible, requiring the most oxygen."
     They were talking about him...almost like he wasn't there.  Fracking
med techs.  They poked you and prodded you, mumbling medical claptrap
above you...and this one wasn't even cute.  Or curvaceous.
     "How do we transfer him?"
     "I brought a collapsible stretcher.  The antiquated kind.  It was
all I could find in their clinic.  We just have to make sure it fits
through the hatch.  I'd hate to get him all the way up there to find out
it doesn't." She told them.
     Starbuck blinked a few times as he watched the suddenly assembled
stretcher being lifted towards the hatch.  It didn't appear to fit.
     "We can cut it down and weld it back together." Greenbean suggested.
     "Do it."
     It was strange.  It was almost like he was in a universe parallel to
theirs.  Mind you, Boomer had been telling him that for yahrens.  But
with each passing centon, their words seemed clearer...as did his head. 
That guy with the respirator...the kids...
     "Where are the kids?" Starbuck croaked as he shot up into a sitting
position, almost colliding into the med tech.
     "Kids?" Xanthe asked, looking at the others.
     Apollo was instantly at his side.  "They're okay, Buddy.  Boomer and
Giles took them to the life station."
     "Almost done." Greenbean exclaimed as he welded the last bar in
place.  Jolly was applying straps to hold their friend in place.
     "What about that guy?" Starbuck looked around suspiciously.
     "What guy?" Apollo shook his head in confusion.
     "The one who attacked me." Starbuck told him, images of the man
running through his mind like a holovid on a loop setting.
     "Attacked you?" Apollo repeated, looking at the tech.  She shrugged
in return, miming 'delirious.'
     "We thought the deck attacked you, Bucko." Jolly ribbed him.  "We
found you just short of the life mask, unconscious."
     Starbuck shook his head slowly.  "No.  There was a...guy." He looked
up at a bemused Jolly.  "Wait, I had the life mask."
     "No, Starbuck.  You didn't." Apollo told him.  "The life mask was
about ten or fifteen metrons away from you.  Just like Jolly said."
     "Was there puke in it?" Starbuck demanded.
     "Huh?" Apollo studied his friend.  Starbuck looked quite serious. 
"Uh...I didn't check.  Jolly?"
     "Sorry." The heavyset warrior was staring at Starbuck sadly.
     "We can load him up, Captain." Xanthe informed him after checking
the stretcher.
     "Load him up where?" Starbuck asked wearily.
     Greenbean pointed to his masterpiece.
     "I'm not getting on that." Starbuck told them.
     "Starbuck, we need to get you up the ladder." Apollo explained
patiently.
     "I'll climb." They didn't know it, but he was an expert ladder
climber by now.  He could do it one-armed, and even with small children
dangling off his belt.
     "I don't think that's such a good idea, Buddy."
     "Think about it again, it'll grow on you." Starbuck suggested.
     "Uh...is it the solium?" Ensign Cree wondered aloud at the
lieutenant's state of mind.
     "Hard to tell for sure." Jolly replied.  "All right, Bucko.  Up and
at 'em." He moved behind the lighter man, and hoisted him to his feet. 
Starbuck weaved for a moment and then regained his balance.
     "He really shouldn't be doing this." Xanthe was insisting.
     "Yeah, well, tell it to Starbuck.  It'll be easier this way.  At
least it will be quicker." Jolly replied
     "Maybe." Greenbean retorted.
     Frack, he didn't feel so well.  But he'd be danged if he was going
to let them strap him to some dilapidated, superannuated piece of medical
equipment like an invalid.  He moved towards the ladder, getting into
position.  Something wasn't quite right.
     "Where's my arm?" he muttered as he instinctively went to rest it on
the outside bar for balance.  Pain ripped through the limb as he tried to
move it, the immobilizer holding it securely against his body.
     Apollo watched him turn several shades of pale until he settled on
something just short of green.  "You don't have anything to prove to us,
Bucko."
     Starbuck rested his head against a rung.  The chill of the metal
felt good.  "Get someone to go check the mask.  Julissa vomited in it. 
That's why I didn't take it initially.  When I went back for it, I
cleaned it out before putting it on."  The silence that ensued seemed
deafening.
     "I'll go check." Cree volunteered.  He owed Starbuck so much more
than this.  If it would help the lieutenant straighten out his muddled
thoughts...
     "Go." Apollo nodded, watching Starbuck tentatively palpate his
forehead and wince with pain.  A trail of sweat trickled down his temple
"Can you give him something for pain?"
     It just seemed so unlikely that someone down there would attack him
and leave him for dead without provocation.  Then again, Starbuck seemed
so certain.
     "You're not trying to knock me out, are you?" 
     Starbuck's eyes bored into the Captain's, making him feel he could
see right through him.  "I wouldn't do that.  You know that.  Or you
should." Apollo replied.
     Starbuck dropped his gaze and then looked at his friend again,
nodding.  "Okay."  He sensed the hypospray against his skin and felt the
warmth as the drugs entered his system.  His eyes grew heavy. 
Fracking...
     "I, however, have no such compunction." Xanthe muttered as she
watched the Captain smoothly catch his friend.

* * * * *

     "How long will he be out?" Apollo asked med tech Xanthe.  The
painfully thin woman was doing another assessment on the sleeping
lieutenant after they had hauled him up the ladder strapped tightly to
the stretcher.  
     "Not long." She smiled humourlessly.  "I didn't give him a very
large dose.  He's  probably just hypersensitive to narcotics right now. 
We'll move him to the Life Station on Alpha Deck until we can sort out
how many patients need to be transferred to the Galactica."
     Apollo nodded.  "When?"
     "I just need another centon.  I want to compare his blood solium
levels now that he's on a hundred percent oxygen.  I'm hoping to see a
dramatic improvement."
     Apollo turned to see Ensign Cree appearing through the hatch.  "What
did you find, Cree?"
     "One life mask.  No vomit." Cree replied.  "Sorry it took me so
long, but I thought I'd take a better look around."
     "And?"
     "Further along the corridor,  I found a few smears of what could be
blood, and a few drops in between." Cree told him.  "It definitely could
have happened the way Starbuck said."
     "If someone dragged him further along to make it look like he never
made it to the mask..." Jolly elucidated.
     "But who?  And why?" Apollo posed.
     "Jealous boyfriend?  Or husband?  Angry father?  Or brother?  Poor
loser at cards?" Greenbean suggested off the cuff.  
     "Greenbean." Apollo warned him.
     "Why don't you ask Starbuck?" Cree suggested, pointing to the
rousing lieutenant.
     "What the frack...?" Starbuck griped as he tried to move, only to
discover he was restrained.   A high flow oxygen mask covered his face.
     The greying med tech leaned over him, hastily undoing straps.  "It's
okay.  They were just on to get you up the ladder.  Relax."
     "Relax?  You drugged me!" His eyes flashed angrily as he glared at
her and then the Captain.  "I wouldn't do that, Starbuck.  You should
know that!" He paraphrased Apollo sarcastically.
     Apollo raised his hands in a self-defensive posture.
     "The captain had nothing to do with it." Xanthe informed him.  "I
didn't want you falling off the ladder and breaking your fool neck.  It's
contraindicated for a full recovery." A slight smile played on her lips.
     "Really?" Starbuck drawled, as he propped himself up on one arm. 
"Listen, lady..."
     "Starbuck." Apollo intervened.  "Cree found the life mask. 
Everything was just like you said."
     "Do you have any idea who the guy was, Starbuck?" Jolly asked him.
     "Or why he attacked you?" Greenbean added, an eyebrow quirked as he
awaited the answer.  He would have put cubits on the jealous boyfriend
angle.
     "Not so delirious now.  Hmm?" The injured lieutenant again glared at
the tech, starting to climb to his feet.  
     She shrugged weakly, not realizing he had caught her earlier
summation, then went back to reading her blood tests.  
     "Starbuck?" Apollo encouraged him, grabbing an arm to steady him.
     He blew out a breath.  "I just got a quick look at him."  He started
to run his fingers through his hair, but they caught in the tangled mess
of boraton, grime and blood.  He shook his head and grimaced in
revulsion.  
     "What did he look like?" Jolly asked.
     "He was in civvies." He remembered noticing that as he approached
the apparent victim.  "Wearing a respirator..." 
     Well, that could be any of about twenty-five volunteers that they
had looking for the lieutenant.   "Anything else?" Apollo asked, letting
go of his friend, but staying within arm's reach.
     "Blue eyes." Ice blue.  The coldest, most emotionless eyes he had
ever seen.
     "A blue-eyed civilian on the Orphan Ship.  That narrows it down."
Greenbean muttered.
     "C'mon, Bucko.  There must be something else." Jolly encouraged him,
giving Greenbean a much needed smack to the back of his head.  
     "I...think I've seen him before." Again, the scene replayed in his
mind.  A quick glimpse of the man as he whirled and then kicked out with
his boot.  Somehow the picture in his mind's eye seemed blurred just
beyond the respirator.  But still, there was that sense that he had come
across the man before.
     "Interesting.  You knew him?" Greenbean probed.  Jealous boyfriend
was looking better and better.  He nudged Jolly in the ribs...at least
that's where his ribs should have been.
     "No..." Starbuck hadn't recognized the man.  "He just
looked...familiar."  He rubbed his aching head.
     "More might come to you later, Buddy." Apollo reassured him.  He
looked to the med tech, "How are the blood test results?"
     "Much better." She answered.  "He might even be okay to walk." 
     Starbuck's eyes narrowed at he studied the woman.  She had the
bedside manner of a embalmer.  "Do you normally only work with
unconscious patients?"
     "It can be preferable." She retorted with a grin.
     "C'mon Starbuck.  There are a few kids in the Life Station who are
probably anxious to see you." Apollo took his arm and led him down the
corridor.

* * * * *

     Dr. Cruz appeared far too young to be in charge of the Life Station
on the Orphan Ship.  Boomer reminded himself, the guy was more likely to
fulfill the role of a general practitioner, than the usual trauma and
emergency care that Salik and Paye provided on the Galactica.  All the
same, there was still yahrens of training necessary, and from the look of
the young physician, he hadn't started shaving yet.  Face it, Boomer; if
you hadn't peered at the computer station to see a module on the screen
about Solium Toxicity, you might not be having these doubts.  
     The fact that Boomer was standing by the door waiting for his turn
to see the young physician might have been the other reason why he was
feeling a bit judgmental.  His groin pain, and the lump there, had not
improved.  Sitting was excruciating.  Dr. Cruz had told him to wait.  He
was attending to Ronin now.  The guy was actually great with all the
kids, making them feel at ease at he checked them out thoroughly.  They
also knew him from routine visits and immunizations, which likely helped.
     "Did you find everybody?" A voice spoke briskly from behind him.
     Boomer turned to see Durban, respirator tucked under his arm.  Reya
had already been in to check on the kids, showering them with an almost
parental concern as she alternated between embracing them warmly and
berating them.  
     "All accounted for." Boomer replied, as Durban ducked his head
inside to look over the scene.
     "What about your friend, the lieutenant?" the caseworker asked.
     "They found him." Boomer's features tightened in concern.  The last
he had heard, Starbuck's solium levels were dangerously high, and he was
disoriented.
     "Alive?"
     Boomer looked sharply at the man.  He took a deep breath,
remembering they had all been through a traumatic incident.  "Yeah, he's
alive.  Hopefully, they'll bring him in soon."
     "How's he doing?"
     Boomer shook his head.  "I'm not sure." He would have liked to check
back in with Apollo for an update, but they needed to keep the lines
clear for emergency personnel.
     "I'm just going to pop in and see Cullen.  I'm glad they found your
friend, lieutenant.  I hope he'll be all right." Durban told him and
darted past him to the chair to where the boy sat, his high flow oxygen
mask on his face.
     "I'm ready to see you now, Lieutenant Boomer." Dr. Cruz told him,
and pointed to the stretcher within the small examination room.
     Boomer nodded and followed reluctantly, as he watched Durban kneel
in front of Cullen, a hand on the boy's shoulder.  The boy paid rapt
attention as the caseworker spoke to him, murmuring what sounded like
words of comfort.  Maybe Durban wasn't such a bad guy after all.


     It seemed like a long walk to the Life Station.  Starbuck listened
quietly as Apollo filled him in on what had transpired since the
explosion.  He shook his head mutely as he heard that he and Cullen had
been the only survivors.  His jaw tightened with anger when he had heard
the complications surrounding the problems with manpower, poorly
maintained equipment, and lack of organization.  He had come up against a
few of those himself.  Cumulatively, it made him feel sick.
     "It's a ship full of children, Apollo.  Surely to God, we can do
better than this?"
     Apollo put a hand on his dispirited friend's shoulder.  "Starbuck,
the commander is aware of the situation.  We'll get to the bottom of it
all," he assured him.
     Starbuck sniffed contemptuously, shrugging off the hand.  "Aware of
the situation.  Where have I heard that before?" Bureaucracy or chain of
command, it was all the same.  Just a bunch of verbal diarrhea from a
bunch of people with mental constipation, which delayed anything
effective from actually happening while studies were performed, and
reports were filed.  There was no time for that felgercarb.
     Apollo grabbed his arm, abruptly pulling him to a halt just short of
the Life Station.  It had been a hard day for all of them, especially
Starbuck, but he really didn't need the lieutenant's cynicism and sarcasm
right now.  "Listen, first things first.  I know there's a long list of
problems, but we need to get this ship operational again to ensure the
safety of the children."
     "Can we do that?" Starbuck stepped a pace closer until he was right
in the Captain's face.  "Do you really think we have the ability to
ensure the safety of the children when the fracking ship is falling apart
around them, and they have caseworkers who abuse them?" 
     It hit the Captain like a laser shot out of the blue.  His stomach
twisted in a knot.  " Starbuck, what are you talking about?" 
     "Cullen.  His caseworker tries to keep him in line by using the
kid's own belt to beat him.  Now, I'm willing to bet that Cullen isn't
the only one being abused." His jaw clenched in anger as he thought about
an adult in a position of authority abusing the privilege, not to mention
those under his supervision.
     "Are you sure about that?" he asked briskly, tightening his grip on
Starbuck's arm.  Lords, he almost couldn't believe it.  He sure as Hades
didn't want to.  The Orphan Ship was responsible for housing and caring
for the innocents.  As a father, the mere thought of child abuse on the
ship filled Apollo with equal parts revulsion and fury.  His mind raced
at what he would need to do to put a stop to the situation.  Sagan, to
remove a caseworker from their job, they needed more than empty
accusations.  
     "Of course I'm sure!" Starbuck snapped.  "Lords, I could see all the
fracking signs before we even talked about it.  Cullen told me that
Durban abuses him.  And the kid's probably not the only one." Starbuck
replied, his body tense with anger.
     "Hey, I'm on your side." Apollo pointed out.
     Starbuck blew out a deep breath.  "I know." He waved a hand in the
air.  "I'm not mad at you.  It's just... Frack, Apollo.  They deserve
better than this.  We're supposed to be protecting them for Sagan's
sake."
     Apollo nodded.    He needed to see the Director of the Orphan Ship. 
And to locate this Durban.  The captain had no intention of letting
Cullen remain in a dangerous situation one micron longer than necessary. 
"I'll take care of it.  The Life Station's just ahead.  You need to get
checked out by Dr. Cruz.  Will you be okay?" 
     "Yeah.  After a lifetime of fumarello's and booze, it will take more
than a little bad air to hurt me." He smiled wryly, somewhat comforted to
know that Apollo was on the case.

* * * * *

     If he thought about it really hard, he could block out the words. 
He looked at a point just beyond Durban's left ear.  It was just a spot
on the floor, but a piece of dust swirled and danced with the slight
draft coming in the doorway, as people walked by. 
     "...you'll never see that pest of a brother of yours again..." 
     Cullen could almost imagine he was that piece of dust, light and
insignificant.  Durban was most certainly the fragment of grime that the
piece of dust evaded, as he quietly muttered his threats, all the time
talking deceptively soft, and gripping the boy on the shoulder.  It would
look almost fatherly to anyone who didn't know how the fingertips were
squeezing his skin with a pressure that would leave bruises within
centars.  Ronin squirmed uncomfortably, watching the exchange.  He looked
as scared as Cullen felt.
     "...it'll make that strapping I gave you seem like a family vacation
to Animatronics Land..."
     His eyes watered and he blinked rapidly, trying to stop the
threatening flow of tears.  Durban's hand moved from his shoulder, up to
his face.  Cullen was sure he would crush his skull right there in the
Life Station, and he was powerless to do anything to prevent it.  If he
didn't listen to Durban, the man would hurt Keegan.  His little brother
was being used against him.  If he didn't deny any accusations that
Starbuck might make, Keegan would pay. 
     "Do you understand, boy?" Durban asked, his gentle voice still
belying his words.
     Cullen blinked again as the piece of dust suddenly lifted several
centimetrons off the floor and wafted safely across the room, far from
the fragment of grime.  It must have been a powerful breeze that just
came in the door.
     "...if you don't heed my words, by the Lords of Kobol, you'll live
to regret..."
     His gaze moved to the door.  Two of the dustiest, grungiest Colonial
boots Cullen had ever seen stood there.  He blinked again and slowly
looked up to see one incredibly filthy uniform to match the footwear. 
And a strange kind of sling on the right arm.  Cullen dared to look up at
the face.
     Starbuck.


     Starbuck could sense it the micron he saw Cullen.  Sitting on a
chair, but with his shoulders hunched and his head slightly bowed, his
arms crossed protectively across him and his feet perched on the ground
as if preparing for flight--a stocky man with platinum blond hair leaning
over him speaking quietly--the boy was scared witless.
     Then the huge, watery, brown eyes met his and he knew...
     "Durban!"
     The man's back stiffened, and he simply looked over his shoulder at
the warrior.
     "Get away from him." Starbuck's biting voice was low and controlled,
as he pulled off his oxygen mask. 
     The warrior watched as the caseworker's eyes narrowed, but the man
didn't move.  Those eyes...pale, cold, cruel...and the dark civvies...all
that was missing was the respirator!
     Starbuck crossed the room in a flash and grabbed Durban around the
throat.  "I said, get away from him!" He forcibly dragged the man back a
few paces, as Cullen scrambled to his feet and into the closest corner.  
     Durban was sitting on his astrum, a crushing pressure against his
windpipe, and in total shock that the lieutenant knew who he was, and
would respond so violently in the middle of the Life Station in front of
the children, with Dr. Cruz and Lieutenant Boomer just a thin wall away. 
He tried to call out for help, as he pulled futilely at Starbuck's arm,
but a choking wheeze was the only sound that passed his lips.
     Starbuck was down on one knee, Durban pulled back tightly against
his chest, effectively immobilized.  He maintained his chokehold knowing
the man would instinctively try to pry at his arm.  It would take someone
with some kind of combat or self-defense training to ignore the fact that
someone was trying to strangle him to death.  Starbuck was willing to bet
that a man who beat children didn't have that experience.  Durban was a
bully, pure and simple.  He attacked the weak, the injured and the
unsuspecting.  He looked at Ronin, who stared intently at the two men. 
"Get Cullen and Jules out of here." He nodded his head towards the door. 
"Now, kid."
     Ronin nodded, taking Jules by the hand and pulling her to her feet. 
He moved to the strangely still boy, who looked at Starbuck with awe. 
"C'mon Cullen.  This is between Starbuck and that scum-sucking dirt-bag."
He put an arm around the boy's shoulders and guided him through the door,
Julissa right behind them.
     Ronin's words only confirmed his every suspicion about Durban. 
Starbuck spoke low and clear, murmuring in the man's ear, "I know your
type.  You prey upon children because they're weaker than you. 
Dominating them makes you feel like a big man.  It makes you feel like
you're in control of something more than your own pathetic existence."
     "I don't know what made you think you could try the same maneuver
with the big boys, chum, but you were dead wrong.  Now, not only do I
know that you abuse the children under your care, I also know that you're
the fracker that kicked me senseless and left me for dead." He felt
Durban startle.  "Oh, I saw your face before you cold-cocked me, you
miserable piece of mong." He tightened his grip again.  "You should have
killed me while you had the chance."
     Starbuck felt Durban twitch, every muscle and blood vessel in the
man's neck protruding as he fought for a breath.  It would be so easy to
finish him off.  He deserved it.  Frack Colonial jurisprudence, it would
be real justice.  The kind that used to be served before opposers and
protectors created the system that seemed to be more concerned about a
criminal's rights, than a victim's.  
     "Starbuck!"
     "Hey!  What's going on?"
     One voice familiar, the other not.  It was simply background noise
to the roaring in his ears.  He could feel the brutal man begin to
tremble beneath him.  So close...
     A strong hand closed on Starbuck's shoulder.  "Let him go, Buddy."
     "Just a centon, Boomer," he rasped.  It was weird.  He hadn't even
been aware that he was short of breath, or that the blinding pain in his
head had returned.  He blinked, as his eyesight started to blur.
     Durban's body slumped against him as the greyness eclipsed his
vision.


* * * * *

     Boomer caught the unconscious Starbuck in his arms, Durban landing
on top of him.  The lieutenant started convulsing erratically in his
arms, tremors and twitches running through his entire body.  "Doc!"
     Dr. Cruz was rolling Durban off of the warrior, checking for life
signs.  "Frack!" he cried as he looked at Starbuck.  He reached for his
comm.  "Med Tech Xanthe, report to the Life Station STAT!"
     "Ease him onto the floor!" Cruz directed Boomer as he ran for a red
box close by.  He returned, immediately applying a mask firmly over
Durban's face, activating the power pack.  He monitored the caseworker's
pulse as he watched the man's chest rise from the air being forced into
his lungs.
     "What ya got?" Xanthe yelled as she tore into the Life Station.
     "Respiratory arrest here, and hypoxic seizure there." He watched
Boomer lean anxiously over his friend as the tremors ceased.  Abruptly,
the pulse beneath the doctor's fingers disappeared.  "Frack!  Cardiac
arrest!"
     Xanthe grabbed the red box, pulling equipment out as Dr. Cruz ripped
open Durban's tunic.  "Put Starbuck on his side, lieutenant.  Make sure
he's breathing." She ordered Boomer as she applied paddles to the
caseworker's chest.
     Boomer felt paralyzed as he looked between the two inert men,
feeling very much out of his element, not to mention thunderstruck. 
Xanthe's words jerked him out of his inaction.  He rolled Starbuck over,
grimacing as the pungent smell of urine filled his senses.  "Starbuck?"
he murmured leaning over the unconscious warrior, as he palpated a pulse,
and at the same time felt the moist warmth of a breath against his cheek. 
Thank the Lords.
     Boomer looked back at the medical team, still working on the dead
man.  Dead.  Starbuck just killed a civilian.   He shook his head,
flabbergasted at the turn of events.  One moment he had left the
caseworker comforting the children in the Life Station, and centons later
he had returned to find Starbuck choking Durban to death, and the
children conspicuously absent.
     He shut his eyes briefly, as he recalled trying to get Starbuck to
let go of Durban of his own free will.  Starbuck's gasp of "just a
centon, Boomer" had sent a cold shiver running through him as it conveyed
the clearly malignant intent.  When Starbuck had collapsed, Boomer had
been momentarily relieved, realizing his state of mind was probably
indicative of his overall condition.  Then the seizure had occurred.
     What in Hades Hole had happened?  Why would Starbuck turn on a
civilian?  Especially one who had dedicated his life to caring for the
orphans?  He looked down at his friend again, for the first time in
yahrens, wondering if he really knew him at all.  He gave himself a
mental shake.  There's way too much history between you to doubt him,
Boomer.  But, still, as he looked upon Cruz and Xanthe still trying
futilely to resuscitate the man, he felt bewildered and shaken to the
core.  He climbed woodenly to his feet.  He needed to brief the Captain. 
And -- Lords, help him -- to contact Colonial Security to take Starbuck
into custody. Had to; no way around it after what he saw.  Frack!  With a
hand that refused to stop trembling, he hit the comm.

* * * * *

     Apollo paced into the Life Station feeling as though he was in the
middle of a nightmare.  On three chairs sat the children, their faces
covered by oxygen masks, Boomer speaking to them quietly.  He stood when
the Captain arrived and moved to join him.
     "How's Starbuck doing?" Apollo asked.
     "Still unconscious.  Dr. Cruz said the seizure was probably brought
on by the high concentration of solium displacing oxygen in his brain."
He smiled weakly as the Captain raised his eyebrows.  "That's a quote, by
the way."
     Apollo nodded. "What did the kids say?" 
     "They aren't talking.  None of them.  I don't know if they think
they're protecting Starbuck, or themselves.  I don't get it.  Any of it."
Boomer told him in frustration.  "Dr. Cruz wants to transfer them to the
Galactica with Starbuck.  Apparently, our Life Station has high pressure
oxygenation treatments which can reverse the solium toxicity within
centars, instead of days . They also want to run medical scans which can
test Starbuck's brain function.  They want to know if the seizure was
indicative of permanent brain damage or merely related to the solium."
     "Permanent brain damage?" Apollo winced.  "What the frack happened,
Boomer?  He was fine when I left him."
     "I don't know.  As I told you, when I went in the examination room,
the kids were there with Durban, and when I came back in, Starbuck was
throttling him." He dropped his voice as a Security Officer entered the
room.
     "Is Lieutenant Starbuck awake?" The officer asked.
     "No." Boomer replied, pointing towards the isolated room.  He sighed
as the Blackshirt nodded slightly before moving towards his prisoner. 
"Sire Mencius, the Assistant Opposer is on his way, Apollo."  
     "I know.  I already spoke to him.  He wants Starbuck to tell him
everything, without the benefit of our input.  Strictly what Starbuck
remembers." He watched Boomer's features tighten with agitation. 
"Boomer, you should know that Cullen told Starbuck that Durban was
beating him." 
     Boomer stared at him in stunned silence.  "Well, that could explain
a few things, but even so...Frack, Apollo, Starbuck killed the man!"
     "I'm not excusing it." 
     "I know." Boomer ran a hand wearily over his face.  "What a fracking
day!"
     Apollo nodded his agreement, squeezing the lieutenant's shoulder. 
"That's putting it mildly.  I'm going to go see him."  
     He strode from the room, pausing by the children who all avoided his
gaze.  He knew he wasn't in the proper frame of mind to speak with them
now.  Besides, he wanted to see Starbuck before the Assistant Opposer
arrived and the mong really hit the rotary.  The Security Officer was
leaving the room with a distasteful look on his face.
     "I'll be out here if he wakes up and gives you any trouble." The
Blackshirt told him.
     Apollo bit his tongue as he let the man pass by.  He stepped inside
to see Dr. Cruz pulling a sheet into place to cover the lieutenant.  
     "Dr. Cruz, I'm Captain Apollo.  Starbuck's commanding officer."
     "Captain." The youthful doctor nodded.  "There's been no significant
change.  I'm sorry, but you'll have to excuse me.  I'm expecting Sire
Mencius any micron."
     Apollo stood aside to let the doctor pass, and then took the seat
next to the stretcher.  From the last time he had seen his friend, there
had been an attempt made to clean the lieutenant up.  An array of bruises
covered what he could see of Starbuck's body.  Apollo realized he had
never even heard Starbuck's story of what had happened initially when the
explosion occurred.  From the looks of him, he had either fallen or had
been thrown some distance.
     Starbuck's hair was wet and slicked back from his face.  A bandage
covered the jagged cut that had been on his forehead.  His arm had also
been redressed, and a clean immobilizer was again in place.  Apollo
looked up at the biomonitor which had started beeping softly.
     Med tech Xanthe walked into the examination room.  The slight woman
nodded at the captain as she punched some buttons on the intravenous. 
The beeping stopped.  Starbuck's eyelids fluttered slightly, but he
remained insensible, as Apollo hovered anxiously.  
     "You know it's considered normal for a person to be just plain
exhausted after a seizure.  Compounded with the solium toxicity, his head
injury, and the general beating that his body has taken, it's not that
surprising that he hasn't regained consciousness." Xanthe explained.
     "Head injury?" Apollo asked, looking again at Starbuck's forehead
which was now a dark purple beneath the stark, white dressing.  "I didn't
know he..."
     "A concussion." Xanthe confirmed.  "He's tough and stubborn,
captain.  That increases his chances of a full recovery significantly."
     Apollo sniffed.  Tough and stubborn.  That was usually what got
Starbuck into these messes.  Oh, and his impetuous, reckless,
thoughtless...Frack, Starbuck, what in Hades were you thinking? The med
tech didn't seem to realize that a lot more than the lieutenant's health
was on his mind.  "That doesn't sound like a clinical judgment."
     "It's not," she agreed with a smile.  "Personal experience."
     "I kind of had the idea that you weren't fond of him." He ventured,
recalling the way she had interacted with Starbuck earlier.
     "Just the opposite.  It's just that I spent twenty yahrens taking
care of warriors before the destruction.  I was retired, but started
picking up shifts here on the Orphan Ship when I realized how
short-staffed they were.  I needed a change." She shrugged. "I have a lot
of experience caring for porcine-headed men and women, so I might come
across as..."
     "Pragmatic." Apollo suggested.
     "I was going to say, a daggit's mother." She smiled.
     "Far from it." Apollo disagreed.  "Thanks for sharing your opinion."
     "You're welcome.  I wouldn't be surprised if he woke up before we
arrived on the Galactica." She told him as she headed back out into the
main room of the Life Station.
     A slight murmur came from Starbuck as he turned his head restlessly
on the pillow, his eyes fluttering again.
     "Starbuck?" Apollo gripped the hand which was reaching for the
oxygen mask that was so crucial to his recovery.
     "Is he finally waking up?" Boomer asked, walking through the door.
     "Maybe." Apollo looked up to see the Security Officer briefly appear
in the doorway, and then disappear back into the main Life Station
calling for Sire Mencius.  So it begins.  "Starbuck?"  .
     Heavy eyelids flickered open briefly, looking around before starting
to close again, not the least bit interested in the bleary shapes and
muffled voices.
     "Hey, Starbuck!  Time to wake up." Boomer encouraged him.
     Starbuck licked his dry lips as he followed the voice, opening his
eyes again.    This time the vague shadows began to take on familiar
forms.  "Boomer..." A pleasant sense of fuzziness surrounded his head,
his sore arm, his entire body really.  It was like having just the right
amount of drinks after a long, hard day.  A drug induced Elysium.
     "How are you feeling?" Apollo asked him.
     "Not sure." Starbuck replied switching his gaze to the Captain, his
tongue feeling thick and foreign.  He looked back and forth between his
friends, trying to gather his muddled thoughts. "Drink?"
     "I'd love one, thanks." Boomer ribbed him instinctively, but his
smile was strained.  Starbuck's languid grin was his answer.  Boomer
reached over for the cup and held it for his friend.
     Starbuck started to pull his mask aside and Apollo stopped him. 
"Dr. Cruz said you have to keep it on." He helped tilt the mask a bit and
assisted shaky hands to maneuver the straw beneath it.
     Starbuck sucked deeply on the cold, refreshing liquid as he looked
around the room, noting three men enter together.  One was quite
obviously a doctor, the second a Security Officer, but the third... 
     "Take it slow." Apollo cautioned him.
     Starbuck glanced at him briefly before draining the cup in two more
sips, the noisy slurp of the straw sucking up every last drop.  He was
parched.  He felt as though he could drink at least a letron of the
precious fluid.  "What happened?" he asked, looking back and forth
between Apollo, Boomer, and the strangers.  "What's going on?"
     "Lieutenant, I'm Sire Mencius, Assistant Opposer.  You were involved
in a confrontation with a civilian.  We need to hear your version of the
events before we can proceed." At first glance, his tussled, sandy brown
hair, relaxed features and chunky form seemed to directly contrast with
his formal robes.  His disposition, however, was every bit as staid and
dour as Sire Solon's as he practically elbowed his way into Boomer's
place at the bedside.
     "What do you remember after we split up?" Apollo asked the
lieutenant.
     They were all staring at him intently.  A confrontation.  That
didn't sound so bad.  Now if he could only remember...  "I went to the
Life Station."
     "And?" Apollo probed.
     And...Starbuck searched their faces as though the answer they were
looking for somehow lay there.  "Cullen was there with..." He looked
through his friend as he recalled the frightened boy's face while he
stared over a broad set of shoulders.
     Durban's shoulders. 
     His eyes flickered back to Apollo's as he recalled pulling the man
away from the child and then sending the children from the room.  He had
intended to give Durban something to think about as he rotted on the
prison barge, but then... It was like someone had just laid a brick wall
over his memories.  One centon he was growling in Durban's ear, and the
next... Nothing.   He could feel his heart begin to race, the blood drain
from his face.  "Frack," he whispered as he tried to get pass his mental
block.
     "Starbuck?" Apollo put a hand on his arm.
     "I didn't kill the fracker...did I?" he asked dumbfounded.  
     "What do you remember?" Sire Mencius repeated, silencing the Captain
with a wave of his hand.
     "But that's just it," Starbuck exclaimed.  His voice rose, and he
struggled to sit up. "I don't remember!" 
     "Tell us what you do remember, lieutenant?" Dr. Cruz interrupted, as
he punched some numbers into his datapad.
     "Cullen was there with...?" Apollo reminded him, as he helped pull
the head of the stretcher upwards.
     Starbuck nodded.  "Durban, his caseworker.  Cullen told me that
Durban abused him.  Strapped the kid with his own belt." He looked to
Apollo who nodded encouragingly.  "I hauled him off the kid.  Especially
when I realized that he was the same piece of..." he hesitated as Sire
Mencius' eyes bore into him.  "Well, he was the guy who attacked me below
decks."
     "Hauled him off the kid?" Sire Mencius quoted.  "What exactly was he
doing?"
     "Leaning over him and talking to him.  I couldn't hear the words,
but I could tell by the look on Cullen's face that he was scared to
death." Starbuck replied.
     "Starbuck, are you certain it was Durban who attacked you below
decks?" Apollo asked, clearly believing the Opposer had missed the
crucial point of the statement.
     Starbuck nodded vigorously, stopping abruptly as his head began to
throb.  "Yeah.  I saw his face.  I recognized him as soon as he turned
around.  He wouldn't budge though when I told him to get away from
Cullen.  It was almost like he was trying to make some kind of point to
the kids." 
     "Lieutenant, when your assailant attacked you, what did he hit you
in the head with?" Mencius asked, already briefed by Dr. Cruz on the
injuries.
     Starbuck paused, as he tried to follow the new line of questioning.
"His left foot." 
     "His left foot?" Mencius repeated.  "Are you certain?"
     "Yeah.  I saw it clearly before it connected with the middle of my
forehead." Starbuck replied briskly.
     "And it broke the skin?" Mencius asked Dr. Cruz.  
     "Most definitely."
     "We could get a DNA analysis." Mencius noted to the doctor, who
nodded in response.  "Lieutenant, do you remember trying to choke Durban
to death?"
     Starbuck opened his mouth, his brow knitted in concentration, his
eyes wildly flitting from face to face.  "Is he dead?" he asked
anxiously.
     "I think what he means, Starbuck, is when you walked into the Life
Station, did you intend to kill Durban?" Apollo quickly paraphrased.
     "No!" Starbuck denied.  He grabbed Apollo by his jacket.  "Is he
fracking dead or not!?  Tell me what in Hades is going on!"
     Apollo looked to the Assistant Opposer, his face tight with tension. 
"Sire Mencius?"
     "Lieutenant Starbuck, do you remember restraining a civilian, and
cutting off his air supply until he dropped dead in your arms?" Mencius
asked, his words clipped and concise.
     Starbuck shook his head disbelievingly.  "No..." He locked eyes with
Apollo, overwhelmed with horror when he saw the compassion there. 
"Apollo...?" Reflexively, he rubbed his hand over his eyes, shutting out
the penetrating stares all around him.
     "Do you remember, lieutenant?!" Mencius drilled him again.
     "NO!" Starbuck cried, looking up and glaring at the Assistant
Opposer.
     "Dr. Cruz?" Mencius looked to the physician.
     "I've already told you, Sire Mencius, he was under the effects of
the solium.  From what Dr. Salik has relayed to me, I would be very
surprised if he remembered much after he lost his oxygen mask."
     "Then perhaps the lieutenant would be good enough to explain his
intent when he pulled Durban away from the boy and sent the children from
the room." Mencius advised.
     Starbuck shook his head, his eyes closed, the reality of the
situation penetrating his mind.  "What does it matter?" He let out a deep
breath as Apollo squeezed his arm supportively, while Boomer murmured,
"tell him, Starbuck."  He looked at his friends and realized they also
wanted to know the truth.
     Starbuck looked the Assistant Opposer in the eye.  "I just wanted
him to know that even though he would probably get off the hook for
beating on some poor kid, that he was still going to end up on the Barge
for trying to kill a Colonial Warrior."
     "You don't have a lot of faith in our legal system, do you
Lieutenant?" Sire Mencius returned after a moment.
     "The property values on the Prison Barge are rising.  Space is
limited." Starbuck smiled humourlessly.  "Thugs like Durban don't do time
for strapping children.  They might get dismissed, but not incarcerated."
     "I understand that you were an orphan as well, lieutenant.  Perhaps
you have a biased opinion?" Mencius suggested.  "That often leads one
down the path of a vigilante."
     "I only wanted him on the Prison Barge." Starbuck replied quietly,
eyes downcast.  "I never meant..." he shook his head.  "I just can't
believe I..."
     "I was there, Starbuck." Boomer told him, having difficulty meeting
his friend's gaze when Starbuck looked up hopefully.  Boomer shrugged
slightly.  "I told you to let him go.  You..." His throat grew tight.
     "What?" Starbuck asked.
     "You told me to wait a centon." Boomer finished, seeing the hope in
his friend's eyes die as he bowed his head.
     "Considering the magnitude of the disaster, and the manpower
necessary to finish the repairs, we have already agreed to conduct a
closed military tribunal, Lieutenant.  Captain Apollo has requested to
defend you with your approval."
     The tightness in Starbuck's chest was almost unbearable.  He felt
dizzy and nauseated.  He blinked repeatedly as he focused on the white
sheet that covered him.  He nodded briefly.
     "You are been charged with the termination of Caseworker Durban. 
You need to enter a plea, Lieutenant." Sire Mencius told him.
     "How do I enter a plea, when I don't even remember what happened?"
Starbuck spoke quietly, his gaze still on the sheet.  
     "Not guilty by virtue of mental incompetence." Apollo spoke up.
     Starbuck winced, shaking his head mutely.
     "Tribunal will convene in ten centars."

* * * * *

     Not guilty by virtue of mental incompetence.  Well, he'd been
accused of a lot of things in his life, but mental incompetence was a new
one.  And just how was it considered to be a virtue?
     Starbuck blew out a slow breath as he realized how the usual
mindless meanderings just rang hollowly, leaving him with a self-loathing
that was entirely new to him.  
     Frack, he was guilty.  He had killed Durban.  Even if he didn't
remember it, he had choked another living being to death.  Now his best
friends were out trying to put something together in the way of a defense
and the best they could come up with was mental incompetence.
     Starbuck had taken a moment to ask Dr. Cruz about solium toxicity
once everyone had finally left him alone.  Well, the good news was mental
incompetence was fleeting.  It could come and go with the speed of a good
detox program.  Coincidentally, that's where he was headed.  He and the
children were all slated to spend some time in the Galactica's
high-pressured oxygen chamber for solium detoxification.
     The mere thought of being stuck in a chamber with Ronin, Julissa and
Cullen staring at him in curiosity was almost more than he could bear. 
Cruz mentioned that they might treat him separately in a support chamber. 
Apparently, Starbuck wasn't the only one who felt the children would view
him as some kind of pariah.  
     Well, he was about to find out.  For the second time in his career,
he had been escorted by Colonial Security as their prisoner.  Now he sat
flanked by the Blackshirts on the shuttle awaiting transport to the
Galactica's Life Station.  The children still had yet to board.
     Lords, what they must think of him?  He sent them out of the Life
Station with the caseworker held in a death grip.  Though his recall was
hazy, he did remember Ronin saying something derogatory about the man. 
The next they would have heard, Durban was dead. Terminated.  By
Starbuck.
     Maybe he hadn't exactly been the shining role model for the fleet's
youth, but still, most of them considered him a hero of sorts.  Between
his career and playing triad, he was no laggard.  But now...
     How could he look anyone in the eye after what he'd done? 
Especially children.  Sagan sakes, he was sworn to protect the people of
the Colonies, not to... He sucked in another deep breath.  
     Keep it together, Bucko.  Not in front of the Blackshirts.
     "Starbuck!"
     He looked up to see Cullen racing across the shuttle, his life mask
still firmly in place, just like the rest of the Solium Toxic Fellowship. 
The boy ran into his embrace, his face disappearing into the oversized,
light cotton tunic the lieutenant had been given by Med Tech Xanthe.  
     Starbuck pulled the thin boy to him with his good arm, not caring
when a sharp, burning pain shot from his right hand to his neck.  His
vision blurred as he lowered his head on top of Cullen's, holding on
tight.
     "Can we sit with Lieutenant Starbuck?"
     Starbuck blinked furiously to clear his vision as he looked up to
see Ronin and Julissa holding hands and standing firm before the security
officers.
     "Uh...sure." The Officer replied, both of them moving over to the
opposite row of seats, keeping a close eye on the injured warrior.
     The teens sat down on either side of the warrior in a show of
support.  Cullen scrambled in between Ronin and Starbuck, smiling up at
the lieutenant.
     "I've never been on a battlestar before!" he grinned with the
innocent exuberance of youth.
     Starbuck swallowed the lump that had lodged in his throat.  "I'll
make sure you get the royal tour, kid." 

* * * * *

     "Lieutenant Boomer!"
     Boomer paused in climbing into his cockpit and turned to see Reya
running towards him.  He jumped back down onto the deck and waited for
the teacher.
     "Lieutenant, I heard about what happened between your friend and
Durban." She told him a bit breathlessly, as she tucked her wavy, red
hair behind an ear.  "I just wanted to tell you...well, a few of us had
been keeping an eye on Durban."
     Boomer waved Apollo over.  "Keeping on eye on him?  How do you
mean?"
     Reya waited as the captain hurried to join them. "Well, Durban had a
different philosophy when it came to managing children."
     "Can you elaborate?" Apollo asked her.
     "He...demanded respect.  He was a strict disciplinarian.  At first,
the kids laughed it off...then little by little, they started to...bend
to his ways." She looked away uncomfortably.  "I went to the Director
with my concerns, but there wasn't anything he could do just based on
my...intuition."
     "Cullen told Starbuck that Durban had strapped him." Apollo told the
teacher after a micron.  "Did you ever get any evidence to corroborate
your feelings?"
     Reya lips tightened as she thought about it.  "Unfortunately, Durban
was one of those people whose records were destroyed.  So everything we
really know about him, came from him.  Frankly, that doesn't exactly fill
me with confidence." She shook her head, disturbed by the thought.  "I
know he mentioned he came from a little mining town.  That's why he was
so knowledgeable about the safety equipment earlier today.  According to
the director, he was married and had a child at some point.  Apparently,
they were killed in a Cylon raid.  I don't know about that." She trailed
off.
     Apollo raised his eyebrows.  "Why do you say that?"
     "Well, I know another caseworker who shared quarters with him during
the early days.  When he had a few drinks, Durban used to talk in his
sleep.  Cargan was sure that the man had something to do with their
deaths.  In fact, Durban made Cargan feel so uneasy that he found
quarters elsewhere."
     "Director Donelly knew this?" Apollo asked in surprise.
     "I'm not sure.  I only found out about it myself about twenty
centons ago when we were talking about Durban's death in the commissary."
     "This Cargan, he never told anybody before now?" Boomer asked. 
"That seems strange for someone who's caring for children."
     "Cargan mentioned that he also had a lot to drink that night.  I
don't think he really wanted to go to the Director and admit that they
were overindulging after hours.  As you can imagine, it's dissuaded on
the Orphan Ship.  Besides, he wasn't altogether certain, that he didn't
dream it.  You should know that as well."
     Boomer squeezed the teacher's hand.  "Thanks for telling us what you
know, Reya."
     She clutched his hand tightly.  "Lord, forgive me for saying so, but
Durban wasn't a man that will be missed around here.  I know that won't
matter to the tribunal so much, but perhaps it will help others to
rationalize what Lieutenant Starbuck did for the children that Durban was
responsible for." She held Boomer's eyes meaningfully for a few microns
before dropping his hand and turning to Apollo.  She squeezed the
Captain's hand as well before walking away.
     "I'm not sure if she told us that for Starbuck's benefit, or for
ours." Apollo murmured appreciatively as he watched her slender form
cross the bay.
     "Ours." Boomer replied.  "Definitely ours."

* * * * *

     The Chief Medical Officer of the Galactica had been watching the
lieutenant for some time.  It was a rare day when Dr. Salik was called
into the Life Station to assist Dr. Paye when he clearly couldn't be two
places at once.
     Not only did they need to surgically repair Starbuck's arm, but
someone needed to assist Dr. Cruz with the post-mortem, and then debrief
the three Orphans about the time they had spent with the warrior, as well
as the abuse accusations against Caseworker Durban.
     Debrief.  You've been in the military too long, Salik.  He smiled
wryly.  No, these kids had been through Hades from the Destruction up to
the explosion ripping through their new home.  And now with the discovery
of abusive caseworkers working aboard the Orphan Ship, more than ever
they needed counseling.
     Of course, there was some time sensitivity involved in his schedule. 
Salik had already been summoned to testify at Starbuck's tribunal.  He
and Paye had discussed the solium toxicity and between them, they knew it
was a black and white situation. He was even aware of a couple of legal
citations they could use for exculpatory evidence.  However, in addition
to that testimony, he needed to do a psychiatric evaluation on the
lieutenant.
     Paye, not unusually, had opted for the surgery and then the
post-mortem.  He had simply told Salik that the psychobabble wasn't his
forte.  Now damaged nerves, tendons, bits of bone fragment, complicated
by local infections...that was what he signed on for.  Paye was excited
to increase his research on neuro-stimulation and regeneration while he
put the lieutenant's arm back together.  He also had a theory about the
caseworker's death.
     Salik, on the other hand, had been trying to concentrate more
efforts into the psychological care of the fleet.  There had certainly
been groups that had been identified as having symptoms very similar to
the Combat Stress Reaction that warriors had been suffering from for
centi-yahrens.  Sadly, many of them were children.
     For as resilient as children were, many had lost everything.  And
with their best interests at heart, the powers that be had designated a
ship which attempted to recreate the Orphanages from the Colonies. 
Unfortunately, the ship was evidently undermanned and seemingly low on
the Council's list of priorities.
     In direct contrast and perhaps as a testament to Colonial society,
the Rising Star had been restored to her former magnificence.     
     Now, when he should be talking to these children about the horrors
that befell them earlier in the day and as a result of caseworker
Durban's treatment, he was instead staring at three stubborn orphans who
had as much as told him that they weren't going to say anything that
could get Starbuck in any more trouble than he already was.  In fact,
following that statement, they had sat sullenly on their chairs awaiting
their trip to the oxygen chamber.  Frequently, their glances fell on the
warrior who was lying on a stretcher halfway across the life station,
awaiting surgery.
     Salik sighed as he made his way to Starbuck.  The lieutenant had
barely said a word. None of his usual banter rang through the Life
Station.  Even Cassiopeia had been unable to raise his spirits.  He was
taking the death of the caseworker hard.  
     "I think I need your assistance, Starbuck." Salik told him.
     Starbuck looked at him briefly before returning his gaze to the view
of the stars.  He would be going into surgery any centon.  Dr. Paye had
told him that the nerve damage to his arm was severe, but was hopeful he
could regain function with some new techniques the physician had been
developing.  After the surgery, they were going to be stuffing him in a
support chamber where he would get oxygen treatments to eliminate his
solium poisoning.  Then, he would face tribunal for murder.  Only this
time, he was guilty.
     "Those kids need help, lieutenant." Salik told him, noticing
Starbuck's gaze flicker over to them momentarily.  They were watching. 
The lieutenant drew a deep breath.
     "What do you want me to do?" His voice was subdued.
     "I need them to talk to me.  They've been through a lot, and need to
get it off their chests.  They're angry, scared, hurt...but most of all,
they're worried that by talking to me, they're going to get you into
trouble."
     The soft sound of his breath escaping was barely detectable.  The
tentative smile that briefly lit his features died abruptly.  "I did that
all by myself."
     "Then tell them that if you have to." Salik directed him.  "But get
them to open up.  They do need therapy.  Especially Cullen.  God knows,
what will happen to him one day if he spends the rest of his life with
all these emotions bottled up inside."
     "God knows..." Starbuck repeated softly, looking over at the boy. 
After all, if the child carried all that pent up anger around with him
the rest of his life, he just might end up unintentionally killing
somebody...He blinked back the sudden moisture in his eyes, and swung his
legs off the stretcher.
     He could face a thousand Cylon Raiders with glory in his heart, but
at that moment the three kids at the other end of the life station scared
him to death.  He felt Salik's hand on his arm, but shrugged it off as he
walked steadily towards them.  
     He took the chair that Salik had been using, squeezing Ronin's
shoulder as he moved between the teens to sit down.  They all looked at
him anxiously.
     "You need to talk to Dr. Salik.  All of you." Starbuck told them
gently.
     "We don't want you to get in any more trouble." Julissa whispered to
him.
     Starbuck shook his head.  "I won't.  What's happened has happened. 
What you say to Dr. Salik isn't going to change any of that.  The
important thing is you move past all of this now."
     "Starbuck, you don't understand.  Durban terrorized the kids under
his care.  You did us all a favour when you killed him." Ronin whispered,
his face intent, his body tense.
     Starbuck shook his head.  "I killed someone, Ronin.  I screwed up. 
I didn't mean to do it...I can't explain how it even happened...and I'm
going to regret it every day for the rest of my life." He cleared his
throat as raw emotion overwhelmed him.  "Each and every human life is
precious.  Even Durban's.  I wanted to stop him, but not like this."
     "What are they going to do to you, Starbuck?" Cullen asked quietly
after a moment.
     Starbuck shook his head.  "I don't know." He rubbed his eyes
wearily.  "But I need you to tell them everything you know.  Everything I
told them was the truth.  If I don't have you guys backing me up, my
story is meaningless."
     "Everything?" Cullen asked.
     "Everything." Starbuck nodded.  It really had very little to do with
his tribunal, and everything to do with their future.  Dr. Salik was a
good man.  Hopefully, he could make a difference.

* * * * *

     Familiar faces surrounded him: Apollo, Boomer, Commander Adama,
Colonel Tigh, Assistant Opposer Mencius and Dr. Salik.  He blinked at
them as his brain tried to make sense of their presence.  After all, he
knew his tribunal was that day, but he was still in the Life Station for
Sagan's Sake.
     "Am I late, or something?" Starbuck murmured, watching Apollo and
Boomer grin at each other.
     "Perhaps we should have given the lieutenant a little more time to
wake up." Commander Adama suggested ruefully.  
     "Somehow, I don't think he'll mind." Apollo smiled.  "How are you
feeling, Starbuck?"
     "What's going on?" he asked suspiciously.  The last time he awoke to
the presence of the assistant opposer, he was charged with termination. 
What in Hades could he have done wrong while he was unconscious and
undergoing surgery?
     "Starbuck, Dr. Salik and Dr. Paye have brought a few things to our
attention which you should be aware of." Commander Adama told him.  He
nodded at the physician.
     "I'm not certain how much of this Starbuck will retain." Salik shook
his head skeptically.  He hadn't really been expecting the sudden
onslaught in his Life Station after he had spoken with Sire Mencius,
followed very shortly thereafter by Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Boomer. 
Surely a simple announcement would have sufficed.
     Starbuck rubbed his eyes and then his face thoroughly, as he
wriggled his way to a more comfortable position on the bio-stretcher. 
His arm was wrapped in a regeneration sleeve and he could feel a
pulsation running from his fingers up to his shoulder every few microns. 
He squeezed his hand slightly, the large amount of swelling preventing
him from making a fist.  
     Salik reached for his hand.  "Tell me if you can feel this."  He
touched each successive finger with a fine, metal instrument, nodding in
approval each time the lieutenant confirmed that he had sensation to his
fingers.  "Dr. Paye did an impressive job.  He'll be pleased with the
results.  We expect a full recovery Starbuck.  Believe it or not, it
wasn't that long ago that this kind of nerve damage was irreparable."
     Starbuck nodded mutely, realizing the physician was just giving him
time to gather his senses.  "Go ahead, doc."
     Salik nodded.  "Dr. Cruz and Paye did a post mortem on Durban which
established two important things.  First of all, traces of your blood
were found on Durban's left boot as well as on fragments of his clothing,
so he was the man who attacked you on the Orphan Ship." He watched the
lieutenant's eyes narrow slightly.  "Secondly, what Durban died of was a
ruptured aneurysm in his main artery, the aorta."
     "What?" Starbuck asked.  "But...I..." He trailed off cautiously, not
sure what the physician was getting at.
     "Yes, you did." Salik nodded.  "But it was the ruptured aneurysm
which killed him.  About five to ten percent of the population has them;
and many don't require treatment until they reach a specific size. 
However, in people who have an undetected aortic aneurysm rupture, half
die before they can receive medical treatment.  Durban's aneurysm was
very large.  He bled to death internally.  A very talented and very lucky
vascular surgeon, may have saved him, but even the odds of that happening
were only fifty percent."
     "But, it was precipitated by...me strangling him?" Starbuck asked.
     "Honestly, Starbuck, I can't tell you that for certain.  Really, we
don't know what finally causes an aneurysm to blow.  The stress of your
attack could have certainly contributed to it, but that's only an
educated guess.  Dr. Paye feels the aneurysm could have been leaking
prior to you grabbing Durban.  It's hard to know for certain, since we're
unaware if he was experiencing any symptoms.  Just imagine the speed with
which you could bleed to death if the largest artery in your abdomen
suddenly split apart."
     Starbuck stared dumbly at him.
     "Now, as for your attack on Durban, I've told Sire Mencius that a
side affect of solium toxicity is an alteration in mental reasoning. 
It's related to the oxygen deficit in the brain.  Now, couple that with a
concussion and it's not surprising that you don't remember strangling
Durban until he passed out."
     "Passed out?" Starbuck asked, noting the terminology.
     "Dr. Cruz said that Durban was in respiratory arrest when you
collapsed.  Following that, his ruptured aorta caused his heart to stop."
     "What are you saying?" Starbuck asked irritably.  It sounded like
the physician was splitting hairs.
     "There are legal citations in Colonial Law where it has been
established that people under the influence of solium toxicity are non
compos mentis."
     "Doc..." Starbuck grumbled.
     "Not of a sound mind." Salik returned.  In conjunction with the
medical facts, Starbuck had also displayed the appropriate guilt, shame,
remorse and regret that the physician expected from the warrior who had
not intended to kill the man he had pulled off of the scared boy.  That
was more than obvious when Starbuck had spoken to the children.
     "In light of this evidence, lieutenant, and because of your
exemplary service record thus far, we have dismissed the charges against
you." Assistant Opposer Mencius told him.  
     Starbuck simply stared at him.
     "Starbuck?  Do you understand?" Apollo asked hesitantly.  Hades, it
had been a load off his mind when Salik had explained that Starbuck
couldn't be held responsible for his actions, nor could he possibly be
aware that he was strangling a man to death.  Apollo had known in his
heart that Starbuck would never in his right mind kill someone
intentionally.     He had rushed to find his father, only to already find
Sire Mencius having the very same discussion with the commander.
     "Let me get this straight.  I throttled Durban to death, but it
wasn't really my fault?" Starbuck ventured, not quite believing it.  It
was so surreal.  It had to be the drugs.  He was probably dreaming.
     "I don't think he's quite ready to absorb it all." Salik told them.
     "Well, then perhaps we'll save his new assignment for later."
Commander Adama told them.  "You get some rest, Starbuck.  Colonel Tigh
will explain it when you're a little more alert."
     "Aye, sir." Starbuck replied, expecting Adama would fade to black. 
But he didn't.  Surrealism wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

* * * * *

Epilogue

     The place was packed.  Every corner of the newly opened rejuvenation
center was filled with kids, kids and more kids.  Starbuck couldn't begin
to wipe the grin off his face as he heard the screams of excitement and
the laughter.  It was beautiful.
     He had spent a couple sectars scrounging just about everything that
went into the renovations to turn the old storeroom full of antiquated
felgercarb into a colourful and bright clubhouse for the Orphan Ship.  He
had been all over the fleet, calling in favours and debts, and accepting
donations and labour in fair trade.  
     Colonel Tigh had informed him the day after his surgery, that after
reading Captain Apollo's complete report of problems associated with the
Orphan Ship, he would be in charge of trying to improve the situation. 
At first, Starbuck had thought he would be back to doing inspection duty
and on-the-spot repairs.  Then Tigh had asked him what it would take to
help make the children happy.
     He still shook his head as he remembered the question leaving the
Colonel's mouth.  Happy.  Not nourished, sheltered, or safe, just plain
old happy.  It just didn't sound quite right, coming from the hard-nosed
Executive Officer.
     Well, Hades, he could do happy.  Within a couple days, he assembled
a crackerjack unit of three other people qualified to fulfill their goal. 
A hangout designed and actualized by the kids.
     Of course, the budget on the Hangout, as the kids had decided to
call it, was practically nonexistent.  While Colonel Tigh couldn't
promise much in the way of cubits or resources, he did promise to turn a
blind eye while a certain resourceful lieutenant scavenged everything he
needed to make the dream a reality.
     He chewed on his fumarello as he watched some of the younger
children sitting at a craft center making the most incredible and bizarre
creations as the older teens supervised their efforts.  The front
compartment was set up specifically with the younger children in mind. 
Books, games, activities and supervision were the keys.  He spotted
Cullen leaning over one the many handheld gaming consoles, as he went
head to head against a friend.
     The back room was intended for the adolescents.  He had even managed
to transfer over a couple of the older games from the Galactica's
rejuvenation center, though they had required an endless amount of time
and energy refitting broken and missing parts.  And of course, the piece
de resistance, the card room.  
     "How about a hand, Starbuck?" Ronin called from his place at the
table, as the lieutenant walked through.
     "Later, Buddy." Starbuck grinned at him.  He had taught the kid just
about every card game he knew.  It was excellent physical therapy for his
right hand and arm after the surgery.  In fact, he had slowly but surely
recovered total sensation and movement between his impromptu therapy
combined with his series of neuro-stimulation treatments in the Life
Station.
     Actually, if he really thought about it, the whole experience of
trying to improve the orphan's quality of life had been therapeutic,
after he had been acquitted of Durban's death.  It had shaken him to the
core that he had killed someone.  Yeah, even though the doctors had told
him it wasn't really his fault, he couldn't come to terms with what had
happened.  In retrospect, it was a damn good thing they had assigned him
a task that would fill up every centar of his rehabilitation period.
     After all, there wasn't time to dwell on what happened.  It was one
of those things that he had made a calculated decision to just put behind
him.  The fact that he still didn't remember what happened probably
helped.
     He could see Apollo and Boomer chatting with Commander Adama.  They
had suggested he guide the Commander and the Siress Tinia, the chosen
representatives from the Council, on the grand opening tour of the
Hangout.  He had deferred, instead encouraging Julissa, Ronin, and Cullen
to show off the benefit of their hard work and vision.
     No, this was his time to just sit back and watch the kids enjoy the
moment.  There was still so much more they could do to make the Orphan
Ship a true home for the children.  Yeah, a sports facility was the next
obvious choice.  Let the kids have a place to run around and compete in a
sporting environment.
     Then again, he would return to active duty again the following day. 
Dr. Salik had finally signed off when his performance in the simulators
was back up to his usual standards.  Time would once again be a precious
commodity.
     He sighed, itching to light up his fumarello.  He had spent most of
his time chewing on the fracking things in the last couple centars while
under the constant scrutiny of teachers, caseworkers and the multitude of
children who were only too keen to share with him the health risks of
smoking.
     Starbuck ducked out the back hatch and lit up his smoke as he gazed
out at the cascade of stars.  It never failed to amaze him.  He drew in
the smoky flavour as he felt his body relax.  He would be out there again
in the morning.  It had been a long time since he had cruised among the
stars in his ship.  Too long.
     Abruptly, it hit him like a lightening bolt.  It was so unexpected
for a moment he couldn't catch his breath as he was dragged from that
safe place that had immured his mind against the memories of the fatal
moment.
     He was back in the Life Station, Durban's body pressed back against
him, his forearm crushing the caseworker's throat...
     He remembered wanting Durban incarcerated on the Prison Barge, to
live out his life surrounded by the most vile and despicable criminals in
the Fleet.  His thoughts were clear and concise as he told Durban exactly
what he thought of him.  But then something changed; suddenly the Barge
didn't seem like enough anymore, and the complications of a tribunal
seemed like a drawn out waste of time.  He wanted Durban dead.
     It was a blood lust he had never felt before.  It had completely
consumed him.  Plenty of times in his life, he had wanted to do another
person harm.  Hades, he had been in enough scraps as a youth that that
the early hand-to-hand combat training at the Academy had seemed
tediously reserved and polite.  But this was the first time he had used
his skills to try and harm...no, to kill a civilian.  
     Salik had said it was because of the Solium...but how could he be
sure?  How could he really be certain that his sudden decision to kill
Durban wasn't really a conscious act?  How...
     Starbuck jumped in surprise as a hand clamped down on his shoulder. 
He whirled around to see who it was.
     "Easy, Starbuck.  We just wanted to bring you back to the party."
Boomer told him as he backed up a pace, reflexively holding his hands in
front of him.
     "I understand the kids want to make a little presentation to you."
Apollo added, noting his friend's discomposure.  "Are you okay?"
     "Uh, yeah.  Just give me a centon.  Okay?" Starbuck nodded
distractedly at them as he turned again to look at the stars.  You said
you were going to put it behind you, Bucko.  Stop beating yourself up
about it.  He puffed on his fumarello; slowly exhaling the smoke and
watching it disperse above him.
     Boomer paused, looking back and forth between Starbuck and Apollo.
     Apollo also hesitated, as he stared at his friend's back.  
     It slowly occurred to Starbuck that he wasn't alone, despite his
efforts.  "What?" he asked, somewhat briskly, as he turned to still find
the two men studying him.
     "I don't think so." Apollo informed him, crossing his arms over his
chest.
     Boomer nodded in agreement.  "Ditto."
     Starbuck stared at them in bewilderment.  "What are you talking
about?"
     "If I remember the incident correctly, the last time you told me
that, you disappeared into the engine room before it exploded." Apollo
replied.
     "I also think your perception of time is a little askew." Boomer
agreed, thinking about Starbuck telling him to wait a centon as he tried
to choke Durban to death.
     "You're kidding me, right?" Starbuck asked irritably.  He only
wanted a few moments to think things out.  Was that really too much to
ask?
     "No.  Not kidding." Boomer returned, his face serious.
     "What's on your mind, Bucko?" Apollo asked.
     Starbuck blew out a deep breath, absently brushing his hair from his
eyes.  He shrugged as his gaze flickered from the view of the stars back
to his friends.  "That's all it really takes to change your life.  Isn't
it?  Just a centon."
     Apollo stepped towards him placing a hand on each shoulder.  "It
wasn't your fault, Starbuck.  You have to let it go." He gave his friend
a gentle shake before releasing him.
     Starbuck nodded slightly, torn between trying to accept the past,
and a new desire to pick apart his every thought and feeling with the
sudden return of his memory.
     "Try to remember the good that's come of all this." Boomer told him,
clapping a hand on his shoulder.  "Look what you've done for the kids."
     It was almost chilling, the way Ronin's words ran through his mind
at that moment.  You did us all a favour when you killed him.  But he
knew Boomer was talking about the Hangout, not to mention some of the
ideas they had bandied about for a sports program, as well as a
mentorship project of some kind between Colonial Warriors and orphans.
     One thing was for certain; the Orphan Ship was a much safer place
than it had been two sectars ago.  Commander Adama had assigned Colonel
Tigh to verify the detailed inspection and subsequent list of necessary
repairs were actually completed to regulated standards.  Captain Szekeres
had had to answer for the state of his ship.  Starbuck had heard he was
now in charge of grinding the rust off of dilapidated parts in the Scrap
and Salvage Center.  He didn't necessarily believe it, but the concept
was apropos.
     Starbuck nodded at his friends, mutely accepting their words,
knowing they were right.  He sucked on his fumarello again, smiling
slightly as they backed away from the wafting scent.  "A presentation,
you said?" he asked Apollo, putting on his trademark smile, and holding
his smoke in front of him.
     "Yeah.  They probably want to show their appreciation." Apollo
added, putting a hand on the lieutenant's shoulder, as he guided him back
through the hatch.
     Starbuck shook his head and grinned ruefully.  "More likely they'll
want to educate me on the dangers of smoking."
     "Hey, if there's a chance that you'll stop contaminating my
relatively clean, recycled air, I'll drag you there kicking and
screaming." Boomer gave him a friendly shove from behind.
     "Kicking and screaming isn't really my style." Starbuck retorted as
he headed into the Hangout.
     "Yeah, more like griping and whining." Apollo needled him.
     "Grumbling and grousing." Boomer ribbed him.
     "Yeah, yeah." Starbuck rejoined, carefully controlling the grin that
threatened to cross his features.  "With friends like you two..."
     "Who needs Cylons?" Boomer and Apollo joined him in concert, having
heard it many times before.
     Starbuck chuckled under his breath as he strode back into the gaiety
that was the Hangout.  It might have seemed like his life had drastically
changed in the space of a centon, but the things that really mattered had
stayed the same.  Even if he harboured a few doubts, his friends still
believed in him.  And they would stand by him until he sorted it all out. 
No matter how long it took.

The End

===============================================================

*Many thanks to the Battlestar Galactica Tech Manual.  An amazing site
clearly designed to assist the technically challenged, such as myself.
LZ.