DESTINY
By Sam Wallace
September 2, 1998

OK everyone, here it is. My first ever posting of fanfic...I am shaking
with nerves but Katie made me do this so I apologize if the standard is
too appalling :-) Please be nice and take into consideration that I am
English, so writing Colonial/American is quite difficult. I also hope the
text works ok and doesn't get mucked up by the technology stuff...OK I'll
stop babbling...here goes...

     It was way past curfew time, he knew. All the others would be safely
tucked up in their bunks by now. He hated the Orphan Realignment Center;
a home aimed at youngsters with no parents, which tried to educate them
to a standard that would allow them to contribute back to society.  He
had run away from these places more times than he could remember, ever
since he had been about 4 or 5 yahrens old...whenever that was... A Cylon
attack on Umbra had orphaned him about 15 yahrens ago.  He had been too
young, or too shocked, to know his actual age.  So they had figured him
to be about 3 yahrens, which would make him about 18 yahrens now.
     They had sent him to his first ORC then.  He had been to about five
others since, expelled from one after the other for disciplinary reasons.
His record spoke of irreparable behavior, mood swings, disobedience,
clashes with the authorities, gambling and, more recently, being caught
in the female section of the Centers late at night. Secretly he was quite
proud of it, never being one to conform to rules and regulations. Right
now he examined the Pyramid cards in his hand.  It was a damn good hand,
probably the best this sectar.  He grinned at his opponents.  They didn't
stand a chance.
     "Come on kid, you playing or what?" one of his opponents asked
angrily.
     He sat amongst five others in a smoky back room of an Ambrosia Bar,
located deep within a run down area of Caprica City. They were all grown
men, much older than himself, probably armed too, he thought with a wiry
grin. They didn't appreciate being beaten by a kid, especially at Pyramid
- the pile of cubits in the middle of the table was more than a sectons
pay for all of them. He ran his hand through his blonde hair, sweeping it
back out of his blue eyes,
     "OK gentlemen, read'em and weep." Gleefully he lay out his cards, a
perfect pyramid, a once in a lifetime hand. He reached forward
immediately and began to sweep the cubits into his leather pouch.
     There were scowls and angry murmurs throughout the room.
     Mmmm maybe this wasn't such a good idea; they didn't look too
happy...He looked about for a quick exit in case things got nasty.
     The men sensing his thoughts moved to block the only doorway. "Where
do ya think ya going kid?"
     "Hey come on, I beat you all fair and square." He pleaded, trying
his best smile.
     They were not having any of it. "You conned us, we thought you were
a kid..." They were really angry.
     "I am just a kid!" He pleaded, on his feet now, a hasty exit was
definitely required, "Look. It's not my fault I'm good at it!"
     Nope, they were still not happy. Slowly they closed in on him. OK so
it was now or never. He had to get outta there.  He bolted for the door,
but they were expecting it and grabbed him by the arms, lifting him
bodily off the floor.
     "Let me go!" he growled, his temper going fast.
     "I think you need to return our cubits first," one of the bigger
guys demanded, pulling out a long sharp knife which glinted in the dim
light.
     He struggled harder. His heart was pounding with anger and fear. The
man with the knife ripped the pouch from his hand.
     "NO!"
     He lashed out with his feet in frustration, hoping to catch someone
and at least do some injury. He caught the man with the knife squarely
under the chin. The man fell back for micron then with a loud roar he
launched himself at the youngster. The other men were eager to get at the
cubits and did not hesitate to join in the fray. Before anyone could
blink there was a full-scale fistfight going on.
     He fought as hard as he could by punching and kicking at anyone
within reach. He had been in plenty of fights before but these guys had
weapons and he knew his life was in danger here...
     Suddenly the door crashed open, and more people rushed in.
     Oh no! He visibly sagged with fatigue. He was fast being overpowered
and he certainly didn't have the strength to fight any more men...  Then
he realized with a sinking heart that it was the Security Forces. He
suddenly knew he was now in real trouble.
     He was dragged outside by two burly officers and forced to stand
against a wall, his cheek grazing the rough surface, whilst they cuffed
him with electronic tags. The officers spun him back round and looked at
him quizzically.
     "How old are you boy?" They were surprised to see such a young face
in the depths of the city.
     "I don't know." It was the truth, he didn't know.
     The officer looked angry, he was not going to take any cheek. "Where
are you from?" The officer could tell by the way the kid was dressed he
was not from any respectable family.
     "The Caprican Federation Orphan Realignment Center." He sighed. They
were bound to find out sooner or later, might as well get it over with. 
     "What's your name?" The officer had a feeling he had seen the kid
before. Maybe it had been when they had raided that Solicitors
establishment with the illegal gambling room a few sectars ago, the
officer could not be sure.
     "Starbuck." The boy muttered sullenly. He had resigned himself to
the fact he was in serious trouble now. He had been threatened with a
correctional Center after his last escapade with the Security officers,
this time there would be no second chance.
     "Well Starbuck, I think your luck has just run out." The officer
grinned and dragged the youngster away.

Two sectars later...

     They had done as promised and expelled him from his last ORC. He was
uncontrollable and it had been the final straw when the Security Forces
had prosecuted him for Causing Riotous Dispute. They sent him to the
Caprican Correctional Facility, a prison like center for youngsters under
21 yahrens. It was run like a Military establishment with the aim of
drilling some discipline, regulation and correction into the adolescents
sent there. 
     Starbuck hated it even more than the ORC. At least there he had had
some freedom. Here no one was permitted off the grounds; there were
actually armed guards on the gates preventing it.  He had made friends
easily though. It was something that came naturally to him, although he
rarely let anyone to get too close. There were a couple that were fairly
good friends to him, but the one with whom he shared a room had got
closer than most. His name was Boomer; a young dark skinned kid aged 20
yahrens, who had been sent to the Facility for hot-wiring hovermobiles.
He was sensible, quiet, considerate and cautious, everything that
Starbuck wasn't. In fact Starbuck jokingly called Boomer his "alter-ego."
The two friends had become pretty inseparable in the short time they had
been together.
     Starbuck stood up and looked out of the window of their room. It was
barred which made it feel even more prison like. He was feeling miserable
and trapped... Boomer looked up from his bed where he was reading up on
procedures. 
     "What's up Starbuck?" he asked noting his friend's distant look.
     Starbuck sighed. "I hate it here." But he knew there was more to it
than that.
     "Don't we all," Boomer agreed. "But that's not what's bugging you is
it." He knew Starbuck well.
     Starbuck turned and looked at his friend. "I've just been thinking
that's all." He ran his hand through his hair pushing it out of his eyes.
"Where do I go from here? I feel like I am wasting my life Boomer. I feel
like I should be trying to find something... that's missing..." 
     Boomer raised an eyebrow. Starbuck was obviously in one of his rare
pensive moods. "Missing?" he asked not understanding.
     Starbuck dropped heavily onto his bed. "Yeah you know,
missing...like my destiny..."
     Looking at Starbuck with eyes wide Boomer sat up, his attention now
riveted. He had never seen Starbuck as reflective as this before. "Your
destiny?" He was completely surprised. 
     Knowing Boomer was playing up to him Starbuck eyed Boomer cynically.
"You know Boomer. There has to be something out there that is me." He was
trying to explain his recent contemplation.
     "Starbuck are you OK?" Boomer joked. This was way out of character
for his friend.
     Starbuck grinned. "OK so maybe I am trying to be a little mature
here, I know it's unusual..."
     "That's an understatement if I've ever heard one." Boomer muttered.
     "But I want to do something with my life," Starbuck continued,
ignoring the comment. "I want to do something...oh I don't know..." he
sighed exasperated that he couldn't find the right words, "...something
that will attract women, something heroic."
     Boomer laughed. "You! Heroic!" he curled up in a fit of laughter.
     Starbuck looked hurt. "I could be heroic," he said feeling wounded.
     Boomer smothered his face, trying to suppress the chuckles. "Sorry
but I cannot imagine you ever being heroic."
     Starbuck thought about this for a moment, "Why not?"
     "You! Mister I don't volunteer for anything. Mister how do I get out
of doing this..." Boomer had a point.
     Starbuck felt squashed. He had never done anything remotely heroic
or brave in his life. It had always been his objective to look after
number one, in other words himself. Why did he feel so differently now?
He could not put his finger on it. Maybe he was tired of the silly games
he played. He wanted something solid. He needed to have something he
could believe in. Starbuck just wished he knew what that was.

A few sectons later...

     It was yet another career day. The Correctional Facility held them
often. They would invite various leaders of industry or business to talk
to the youngsters in the hope they might identify a path to follow in
life. Thinking it a complete waste of his valuable time, Starbuck avoided
them all purposely.  He would spend the time holed up in a storage
cupboard somewhere playing Pyramid with anyone he could persuade. 
     Today was different.
     Boomer had heard the Colonial Warriors were coming to talk about the
Colonial Military Service. He had jumped at the chance of going to this
career speech. He had begged his friend to go with him.
     "Ohhhh Starbuck come on! It could be really interesting!" He had
pleaded.
     Starbuck had opened one eye as he had lain on his bed. "Yeah right."
He remarked dryly.
     Boomer looked exasperated. "Look how often do I ask you to do
something?"
     Starbuck sighed and sat up. "Boomer, I do not want to listen to some
boring old man droning on about the military. I get enough of that here
as it is!"
     "But Starbuck, this is different... If we were Colonial Warriors
think of all the places we
could go..." Boomer was in hyper mode.
     Starbuck rolled his eyes. "I don't care Boomer." He said flatly.
Somehow he couldn't picture himself as a Colonial Warrior.
     "We could serve on one of the Battlestars! We could maybe even fly
vipers." The excitement erupted in Boomers voice.
     "Sure," Starbuck said sarcastically. He thought that about as likely
as him winning a million cubits.
     "Starbuck!" Boomer was incensed.
     Starbuck stood up. "Okay, okay but don't ever say I don't do
anything for you..."
     Boomer grinned and slapped him on the back. "I promise you won't
regret it."

     So here they were, sat at the back of the room. Starbuck had
insisted on that. They were listening to a Colonial Warrior who looked to
be in his late 30's and was a Captain. Although Starbuck wasn't
completely sure on that point as he had not been paying that much
attention. However he had to reluctantly agree that the warrior did not
seem to be boring. He was quite impressed by the effort that had been
made. There was a stand with huge glossy holophotos, a holovideo room and
a viper simulator for the youngsters to try. He had to admit it looked
like a really glamorous lifestyle. He was trying to visualize himself in
a Colonial uniform...
     Boomer was completely enthralled. "This is excellent! I'm gonna sign
up!" he hissed to Starbuck as the Captain stopped talking.
     Starbuck stared incredulously. "You are joking?" he sounded worried.
     Boomer shook his head. "No, I mean it. It's the chance I've been
waiting for." He looked at Starbuck as if having a sudden thought.
     Starbuck read his mind. "Oh no Boomer. Don't you even think about
dragging me into this." He was adamant.
     "Oh come on buddy. Imagine how impressed the women would be. You
would get them falling at your feet if you told them you were a Viper
Pilot!" Boomer was completely sold on the idea.
     Starbuck thought about it for a micron, it was tempting but
self-preservation got the better of him. "No way Boomer. I am not about
to get myself killed for a few cubits."
     "I thought you wanted to be heroic." Boomer goaded and reminded him
of the conversation a few sectons ago.
     "Yeah, but I don't want to die in the process." Starbuck was not too
good at the death thing.
     Boomer rolled his eyes. "OK but at least have a look at the stuff
these guys have brought along. We have gotta fly that viper simulator."
He quickly jumped up and moved off across the room pushing his way
through the crowd.
     Starbuck shook his head. "I don't believe this." He muttered to
himself. Resignedly he stood up and followed his eager friend.

     Boomer wormed his way to the front of the room and managed to get in
line for the simulator. He saw Starbuck reluctantly approach and grabbed
him into line. Starbuck looked at the faces around him. There seemed to
be a lot of interest in the Colonial Warriors but maybe it was just the
chance of getting out of the Correctional Facility that made them all so
eager. He really couldn't see the attraction.
     Boomer stepped into the cockpit of the viper. He slid into the soft
padded seat and at once felt a thrill. This was it! This was what he
wanted to do! Starbuck watched dispassionately from the queue as the
simulator bumped and jolted around the set task. He wasn't impressed.
After about 6 centons Boomer stepped out, sweat beading his brow.
     "Whheewwweee that was harder than it looks! Fun though!" he was
pumped up with adrenaline.
     Starbuck looked at him blankly.
     "Not a bad score young man." The officer in charge spoke to them
while looking at a display readout. "You're scores are reaction 73%,
accuracy 65% and flying ability rates a 6."
     Boomer wanted to know more. "Is that good?"
     The officer nodded. "Like I said it's not bad. Our average cadet
reaction score is 70%, accuracy usually comes out at 60% and the flying
ability is marked out of 10. Yes, 6 is pretty good."
     Boomer whooped with joy.
     "What about you son? You want to give it a try?" The officer was
looking at Starbuck.
     Starbuck hesitated. He was trying to think of a way out of this.
     "Go on Starbuck. This won't kill you!" Boomer said pointedly.
     Starbuck gave Boomer his best "I'm going to get you" look.
Reluctantly he climbed into the cockpit, put the helmet on and watched
the panel in front of him light up. The officer leaned in and pointed out
the controls. Starbuck nodded wordlessly. 
     "OK kid, give it your best shot." The officer patted his helmet and
released the cockpit cover.
     The silence as the cockpit sealed was deafening. All Starbuck could
hear was the pounding of
his heart. A voice filtered over the intercom giving him the instructions
on how to deal with the task. Then the cockpit came alive. His reactions
were instinctive...
     After what seemed like a lifetime, the simulation came to an end.
The cockpit reopened and Starbuck climbed out. He was surprised to find
he had been sweating heavily.
     Boomer punched his arm playfully. "That wasn't so bad. Was it?" he
exclaimed happily.
     Starbuck wiped his brow. "I'll let you know when my heart stops
racing." He said sarcastically.
     The two young men turned and looked at the officer who was examining
the display readout with a puzzled face.
     "This can't be right." The officer muttered mostly to himself.
     "What's wrong?" Boomer asked concerned that the information had not
come through.
     "These scores...er...well, I have never seen anything like this."
The officer was truly amazed.
     Starbuck felt embarrassed. He didn't think he done that badly.
     Boomer consoled him. "Good try, buddy."
     "No, you don't understand." The officer said turning to the two
friends. "These scores are excellent!"
     Starbuck and Boomer looked at each other. Starbuck felt his grin
grow wider.
     The officer shook his head in disbelief. "Reaction score is 87%.
Accuracy score is 91%. Flying ability rates at a 9." The officer was
genuinely shocked. "The only scores I have ever seen higher than these
were those from the Blue Squadron of the Battlestar Galactica".
     "How can that be?" Boomer couldn't see how Starbuck, who had never
flown a viper in his life, could be up there with the best pilots in the
fleet.
     "The task is set to measure natural abilities and skills. With the
proper training your skills just get better. It doesn't mean that your
friend here could go out tomorrow and join a squadron although..." the
officer considered something for a few microns, "He would probably be
able to hold his own against a Cylon raider" He looked at Starbuck with
intent. "Son, you are a natural born pilot."
     Starbuck was completely taken aback. He had found what he was
looking for.

Three sectars later...

     Both of the youngsters got out of the Correctional Facility by
signing up for the Colonial Military Service. It had been a bit touch and
go in Starbuck's case. It had taken Boomer and some serious persuading to
get Starbuck to register. The Head of the Correctional Facility had
questioned the fact that maybe Starbuck had not been there long enough to
be punished. Finally, the Commander of the Academy had serious doubts
when he had seen the young man's past record. He could not see the boy
suddenly conforming to rules and regulations when Starbuck had spent his
whole life rebelling against them. However, the officer who had witnessed
the simulation flight had pleaded Starbuck's case by emphasizing
Starbuck's natural abilities and skills. Narrowly Starbuck made it into
the academy.
     The two friends stood in line with the rest of the induction class.
Starbuck tried to quell the doubts, and the excitement, curdling in his
stomach. Boomer was still looking eager. The Commanding Officer of the
Academy, Commander Ryder, was talking to the cadets. He explained how
they were entering an institution steeped in tradition and history, where
honor and loyalty were expected, where the safety of the Colonies and the
Colonial Fleet was of utmost importance, where death was distinguished
and honorable.
     Starbuck squirmed. He wished they would stop with this talk about
death. He was far too young to be thinking about dying.
     Boomer noticed his friends discomfort. "What is it now?" he hissed
irritably. He was beginning to get fed up with Starbuck for not being as
keen on this whole idea as he was.
     Starbuck shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He was tired
of standing in formation. "What's with all the death stuff?" he muttered,
"I am not joining up just to go and get myself killed."
     Boomer sighed. "He is just trying to emphasize what an honor it is
to serve as a Colonial Warrior."
     Starbuck didn't look pacified. "Honor?" He questioned. "They think
it's an honor to get killed by a bunch of metal heads!" His voice rose an
octave.
     "CADET STARBUCK!" A roar erupted across the room.
     Starbuck froze. Every single cadet in the entire class, probably
about thirty or so, turned to stare at the disobedient young man.
Starbuck shrank backwards, trying to make himself invisible.
     The Commander standing on the podium looked thunderous. "DO YOU DARE
TO INTERUPT YOUR COMMANDING OFFICER!" he bellowed, his voice resounding
off the walls thanks to the microphonic emphasizer.
     "Errrrr I was just..." Starbuck immediately tried to talk his way
out of trouble, an instinctive reaction.
     "BE QUIET!" Commander Ryder couldn't believe the insubordination.
     "Sorry." Starbuck felt self-conscious. He shuffled from one foot to
the other looking at the ground.
     "SORRY SIR!" Commander Ryder emphasized.
     Starbuck looked at Boomer who ignored him as if he was not there.
Some friend Starbuck thought.
     Commander Ryder not hearing the response he wished, turned to his
right and spoke to his junior officer. "Colonel, I want that Cadet
brought to me after the induction ceremony. We can then find a suitable
punishment."
     The whole room heard him. Starbuck heard a few sniggers and felt the
anger and humiliation burn inside him. He hadn't even been inducted into
the Colonial Warriors yet and already was reprimanded by the Commanding
Officer.  Some things never changed.
     He had never been so nervous or apprehensive in his life. Starbuck
stood in Commander Ryder's quarters awaiting his punishment. He had
rapidly concluded that the Colonial Warrior Academy made the Correctional
Facility look like kid's stuff. The door to the room slid smoothly open
and the Commander marched in. He did not look happy. Ryder moved
immediately to his desk and took his seat. 
     "I have never witnessed such insubordination in a induction ceremony
in my life."
     The words were deceptively quiet. Starbuck could feel the anger
radiating from the man and swallowed nervously. His mouth felt incredibly
dry.
     "Do you want to be a Colonial Warrior Cadet?" the voice was firm
with maybe a hidden agenda.
     Starbuck tried to control his heart rate, which was pounding away
far too loudly. "Errrrrrrr, yes...Sir," he added quickly, remembering.
     Ryder lent back examining the young man with a measured eye. "This
Academy has turned out some of the best warriors in the Colonies.
Commander Adama graduated from here. Why should I allow someone as
unworthy as you have the same privilege?" he demanded, "What do you have
to offer that warrants me to take a chance with you?"
     Starbuck took a breath. "My life, sir." 
     The statement took Ryder by surprise. He had thought the youngster
had taken the first opportunity to get out of the Correctional Facility
thinking the Colonial Warriors an easy option. There was obviously more
to the cadet than he had first thought. "Tell me why you wanted to join
the Colonial Warriors." The Commander wanted to find out if his original
judgment was correct.
     Starbuck knew he was in deep water and for once he went for an
honest approach. "I didn't, sir." He saw the knowing look and carried on
trying to explain, "Not to start with anyway, but the simulator flight,
well it kinda hit me. It felt right... I felt like I belonged there....
I've never wanted anything as much as I want to fly a viper, sir." It was
heartfelt.
     Commander Ryder took a deep breath and considered the statement.
This young man surprised him more in the last few centons than many
people had in a lifetime. There was a quality about him. Sure he was
undisciplined and insubordinate but maybe he deserved a chance. "Cadet, I
am going to make your life here hell. I do not want to see you in front
of me again. As punishment for your disobedience this morning all
furloughs for the next six sectars is canceled!"
     Starbuck winced inwardly. "And you are to report to Colonel Yuri for
extra duties. Any more trouble and you are on report. Do you understand
me Cadet Starbuck?" The Commander was deadly serious.
     Starbuck went to nod and caught himself in time. "Yes sir," he
answered subtly.
     "Dismissed." Commander Ryder barked, waving the young man away.
     Starbuck left the room feeling chastised and a little sorry for
himself but he knew this was a once in a lifetime chance. He had to prove
his worth not only to the Commander but himself too. He needed to be part
of something, he needed to belong and every micron that passed made him
feel that the Colonial Warriors was where he was born to be.


Five sectars later...

     Boomer found the Academy tougher than he had ever imagined. The
rules and regulations were
strict. And the cadets were expected to behave impeccably at all times.
He had been caught on more than one occasion "bending" the rules thanks
to Starbuck. As a result he had a couple black marks on his record which
were keeping his overall results half way down the class.  However,
Boomer considered, he was far better off than Starbuck who was a known
troublemaker.
     Starbuck had a lot of black marks on his record. He had been on
report three times and in front of the Commander again since his original
reprimanding. As a result he was barely scraping through, having to
retake exams and "borrow" other peoples work. Boomer warned his friend to
clean up his act but Starbuck seemed reluctant to change. It wasn't in
his nature to try. Commander Ryder lost patience with Starbuck after his
last escapade. Starbuck had been caught one night trying to joy ride in a
Viper. Since he was not cleared for solo flights, Starbuck was in serious
trouble. The Commander punished him in front of the entire Academy,
putting him on report for the third time and sending him to the "brig"
for a secton.
     The brig was a copy of the one found on a Colonial Battlestar. Its
purpose was to give the more disobedient cadets a taste of what real
punishment was like. It was the most serious punishment any Colonial
Warrior could ever get. Starbuck was angry and humiliated. Before being
led away, Starbuck told Boomer he had enough and was dropping out of the
Academy. He wanted to return to life on the streets where it "was less
aggravation".
     That worried Boomer for he knew how hotheaded his friend could be
and despite all his difficulties, he was going to be a good warrior.
Starbuck consistently ranked top of the Viper group tasks. He was an
outstanding pilot in all the set combats. No one could match him in a
dogfight. Not even all the instructors with yahrens of experience could
match Starbuck's skill. He also had a deadly aim on the laser range and
was one of the best Triad players any of the cadets had ever seen. It
would be a terrible loss to everyone if he dropped out. 
     Boomer made his way down to the brig. It was in a quiet part of the
Academy where few people
ventured. It was not a nice place to be. Boomer knew his friend was
suffering. He wanted to talk Starbuck out of leaving and despite the
trouble he caused, Boomer viewed Starbuck as his best friend. He did not
want them to depart company now. 
     A security guard sat at the entrance of the department. He allowed
Boomer in after a quick search for weapons. The brig in the academy was a
lenient version of the real thing and visitors were allowed at all times.
Boomer found Starbuck's cell. His friend was lying on his bunk staring
despondently at the ceiling.
     "Starbuck." Boomer called his friend.
     "What do you want?" Starbuck answered bitterly not moving.
     Boomer sighed. "I've come to make sure you're okay."
     Starbuck sat up abruptly. "Oh sure I'm having a real good time," he
snapped bitterly.
     Boomer recoiled a little. "I did say you were pushing your luck with
that viper."
     "Oh is this the 'I told you so' speech?" Starbuck sarcastically
responded.
     Boomer sighed. "Starbuck, it's your fault that you're in here."
     Starbuck looked angry and didn't respond.
     "Look you'll be outta here in a few sectars." Boomer tried to be
optimistic.
     "Yeah and then I'm outta the academy."
     "Starbuck you can't drop out now."
     "Why not?" Starbuck was in a foul mood
     "Because you are good at what you do," Boomer explained.
     "Hardly Boomer, I am at the bottom of the class remember."
     "Yes but that's purely academic. You're the best pilot here."
     "That's not going to mean very much when Ryder examines my record is
it." Starbuck was angry with himself for being such a fool and trying to
take the viper without permission. He knew he'd gone too far.
     "Ryder is not as tough as he makes out. He knows you'll be a damn
good warrior." Boomer knew he needed to boost Starbuck's ego if he was
going to persuade his friend to stay.
     Starbuck stayed silent for a moment while thinking this over. He
looked up at Boomer. "Do you really think so?" he asked softly.
     Boomer nodded. "Starbuck, you, more than any of us, has what it
takes. You just need to conform a little." He smiled.
     Starbuck gave a characteristic grin in return. "Hell, I'll never
conform." Then he looked thoughtful. "But I have never felt as good as I
do here. This is me! The flying! The lasers! I love it all. I just know
what they all think of me and they are just waiting for me to fail." He
looked sad.
     "So why give them what they want?" Boomer questioned. "Prove them
wrong. If you get your astrum out of here and start working hard you'll
graduate. You still have a chance."
     Starbuck examined his friend, his eyes full of appreciation. "You're
a true friend Boomer. I value that!" 
     Boomer grinned, knowing how unusual it was to have Starbuck be as
open as this. "Forget it. Just make sure you're there one day when I have
a Cylon on my tail."
     "I promise." Starbuck always honored his word.

     Starbuck tried very hard when he was released from the brig.
Commander Ryder warned him that this was his last chance. He had to start
producing results to graduate. If he wanted a posting on a Battlestar, he
was going to have to start conforming to the rules and regulations. In
fact for a whole secton, Starbuck did conform which impressed Boomer to
no end. Of course there were occasions when Starbuck did bend the rules
a little, but he was extra careful about what he did, when and where to
ensure he wouldn't get caught. He also persisted with the Pyramid games.
Boomer knew how much one could ask of Starbuck and asking him to give up
gambling was like asking him give up women. A total annihilation of the
Colonies was more likely. Things bumbled along. Starbuck scrapped
through many of the classes especially the more academic ones with help
from Boomer. However he excelled when it came to flying.
     Starbuck was the first to be sent out on a solo test-mission. A task
set to simulate a real mission one would expect when serving a
Battlestar. Starbuck came back with a top score beating all previous
records set. The other cadets had to listen to Starbuck's bragging and
gloating about it for sectars. He also had an incredibly accurate, deadly
record on the laser range, rating third in the all-time high scores. With
anything practical and physical Starbuck excelled. With tasks and classes
that required thought, care and application of mental skills, he barely
passed. It wasn't because he didn't have the intelligence. It was because
it was too much bother to apply himself. There was always an easier way
round things and usually that went by the name of Boomer.
     Gradually, the cadets were given more and more responsibility.
Patrols were formed and sent out to monitor Caprica as a whole. The role
changed from a trainee cadet to one that more closely resembled a
Colonial Warrior. Duties were developed. Tasks were set. Each one
replicated a role expected on a serving Battlestar.
     Not all the cadets were Viper pilots. The Academy split the
youngsters into various grades depending on their aptitudes. Some were
earmarked for Command duties on a bridge. Some were sent into the medical
arena. Others did the more technical roles such as Viper technicians and
Computer Maintenance. However despite the Academy's valiant efforts to
ensure all roles were considered equal, it was seen by all the Cadets
that the Fighter Attack Viper Pilot rank was the most prestigious role
one could gain. Starbuck and Boomer both passed into this division. 
     It was within their new formalized roles that tasks became duties.
Role-playing games became life experiences. Cylon attacks were real and
not computer simulated. They were becoming real Colonial Warriors just
sectars away from graduation. Starbuck grew into his new grade with
relish. The cadet status had been dropped and a new Ensign added. He
planned on climbing up through the ranks as quickly as possible mainly
because the higher the rank the greater the pay and perks.
     The Fighter Attack Viper Pilots were moved away from the main
Academy to a new site built especially for the graduates. Here there were
fully operational military facilities. In fact, it was viewed by the
Colonies as a serving military establishment. Graduates were sent out on
patrols. In the event of a Cylon attack, they were launched as a back up
squadron, usually with one of the instructors as Squadron Command.
     And there were Cylon attacks, often small with only three or four
craft but the Colonies were at war. It was a common occurrence. The
Academy lost three pilots in initial attacks, due mostly to inexperience.
It had hit all of the Graduates hard. It suddenly made them all realize
that their lives were at risk and friends could die so easily. It had
made Starbuck angry. The long established hate he had for the Cylon
Empire escalated to the surface. He was eager to get out to a Battlestar
so he could "Blow the metal heads into millions of rusty parts." Boomer
was keen too, but was also more wary. He wasn't as lucky as Starbuck when
it came to flying aptitude. He was anxious to hone his skills more before
they got posted anywhere.
     Today, the two friends were due to undertake a routine patrol of
Caprican airspace, the area within Caprica's atmosphere. It was a patrol
they had done seven or eight times now and was not a new experience.
Starbuck always thought them dull but any excuse to get in the air was
fine by him. Boomer appreciated any chance he could get to practice. He
sat now in the cockpit of his viper going through the pre-launch checks.
Starbuck did the same in the craft adjacent to his. For some reason,
Boomer felt apprehensive. He took a deep breath and tried to reason with
himself that this was an every day normal patrol. They were going to scan
the atmospheric airspace of Caprica for unauthorized subjects. If there
weren't any - which was normally the case, they would return, debrief and
retire to the Graduate Lounge, simple. So why didn't it feel right?
     Boomer shook himself. Think straight. Stop working yourself up. You
are always worrying about something, he told himself angrily.
     "Did you say something Boomer ?" Starbucks voice floated across the
landing bay to him.
     Boomer looked up surprised that he must have been talking out loud.
"Errr no," he said embarrassed somewhat. "Just going through my checks."
     Starbuck shoved his helmet down over his head and switched on the
intercom. "Well, I'm ready when you are." His voice was clear in Boomers
headset.
     Boomer nodded and released his canopy. He could feel his palms
getting clammy already.
     "Viper Patrol Alpha, prepare to launch," a male Command Graduate
voice filtered over the com-line.
     Starbuck switched his engines on and waited for optimum power, his
thumb resting over the turbo button that would send him thrusting up the
launch tubes.
     "Viper Patrol Alpha, cleared to launch." 
     "Launching," Starbuck returned, immediately pushing the turbo boost.
The power from the triple engines forced him back into his seat, the
g-force holding him there. He heard Boomer's voice repeat the action, and
saw him launch out of the corner of his eye.
     The two pilots took up formation alongside each other. Boomer had to
concentrate on keeping the distance between the two craft from wavering.
Starbuck grinned at his friend. He could see how focused Boomer was.
     "Hey, buddy! You okay?" He was cruising, enjoying the flight.
     "Yeah." Boomer still felt uneasy.
     Starbuck laughed. "Boomer relax. You'll find it a lot easier if
you're not quite so ....on edge !"
     Boomer let out a deep breath and felt some of the tension release
from his shoulders. "Sorry, I just have a weird feeling."
     Starbuck didn't like weird feelings. In fact he didn't like anything
that could jinx the flight. Sometimes he could be superstitious. "About
what?" he asked, a little worried.
     Boomer shook his head. "I dunno, maybe its just all getting to me."
He felt stupid.
     Starbuck smiled. "Boomer just loosen up. Come on I feel a game of
tag is needed..."
     "Errrr I'm not sure Starbuck, it's against the rules."
     Starbuck's idea of tag was a dogfight involving aerobatic
maneuvers. They were strictly forbidden on patrol flights.
     "Oh, come on Boomer. Since when have I ever stuck to the rules!"
With that Starbuck sent his viper into a barrel roll, swinging it down
beneath Boomer and up the other side so he remained in formation.
     Boomer rolled his eyes. "Lords help me," he muttered, knowing there
was no stopping his friend now.
     Starbuck hit his turbo's sending his viper ahead of Boomer's, and
pulled it into a steep climb. He looked back to see Boomer following and
grinned. Now this was what it was all about for him! The two pilots threw
their vipers around in the sky, thoroughly enjoying themselves. 
     Completely preoccupied by their dogfight it took Boomer several
centons to notice the blips picked up by his scanner. He saw it flash at
him just as he had Starbuck lined up in his sights. Quickly, soberly, he
pulled into level flight and punched the keys on the pad. "Starbuck check
out your scanner." His voice had an edge of concern.
     Starbuck quickly followed suit. "Frack! Cylons!" he muttered as his
scanner identified the source.
     "How many you got ?" Boomer asked counting six on his screen.
     Starbuck was silent for a micron. "Six, no seven, eight. Frack, it's
a whole squadron !" Starbuck felt the chill in his spine. Two
inexperienced pilots against a squadron of eight highly trained Cylon
fighters. They were in deep trouble.
     Boomer immediately sent a distress line out to the Academy hoping
they would retaliate with a back up squadron.
     Starbuck watched the Cylons approach. "We gotta go for them Boomer,"
he said quietly, knowing his life was in danger. "They are heading for
that built up area over there. We can't let them get through."
     That surprised Boomer. He had never seen this side of Starbuck
before, brave decisions, caring for civilians on the ground. For some
reason he hadn't expected it. "I'm with you." He replied quietly.
     The two vipers swung around moving away from the city, hoping to
draw the Cylons off. It worked. The Cylons immediately began to fire on
the two Colonial craft. Boomer was shocked at the intensity. It was the
first time live lasers were fired at him in anger. His heart pounded in
his ears. His mouth had gone dry. And he was ... scared!  "Starbuck this
isn't funny." He said trying to keep the fear out of his voice.
     Starbuck lined up a Cylon in his sights. The adrenaline surged
through his body. The computer bleeped as the sight centered. Immediately
Starbuck hit the lasers. The Cylon craft exploded in front of him.
"YYYYYeeeeeeehhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaa," Starbuck howled in jubilation, punching
the air inside the cockpit. It was his first Cylon kill.
     Boomer felt some relief but was busy trying to avoid the enemy fire.
He managed to squeeze off a laser burst and caught one of the Cylons on
the tail. It fell out of the sky useless with engine damage. "Yes !" He
sang into the com-line, starting to feel more confident.
     "Boomer, on your tail !!" Starbuck voice pierced his headset.
     Boomer glanced back over his shoulder to see a Cylon Attack craft
lined up behind him. He sent the viper into a dive but the Cylon stayed.
"Starbuck !" Boomer called for help knowing he was in trouble. The Cylon
fired, the laser streaking into the sky to Boomer's left. That was too
close, he thought.
     "I'm coming buddy. Just hang in there." Starbuck's voice was cool
and calm, reassuring his friend. Starbuck had his hands full. He fired on
another Cylon destroying it instantly. There was no time for rejoicing.
His friend's life was in danger. He swung his viper down and closed in
behind the Cylon. It had Boomer in its sights. He could not wait for the
computer. He fired, pushing his viper into a diagonal climb hoping the
lasers would hit their target.  The Cylon blasted into thousands of
fragments.
     "Thanks buddy." Boomer sounded very relieved.
     "Four down, four to go," Starbuck said through gritted teeth. He had
one on his tail now. He had to get outta there.  The laser fire was so
close the viper bucked and rocked from the impact. Starbuck dared not
even breath. He fired off another round and successfully destroyed his
fourth Cylon attack craft but the other Cylon was still on his tail.
"Hey Boomer! You couldn't return the favor could ya?" His joking voice
masked the concern building inside him.
     Boomer looked across and assessed the predicament Starbuck was in.
There were three Cylon fighters left. One was stuck firmly to Starbuck's
tail with the other two were flanking the first. It was the deathly
pinwheel maneuver the Cylons were infamous for. Boomer didn't hesitate.
Hurriedly quelling the rising panic inside him, Boomer pushed his viper
faster and harder towards the group of attacking Cylons. "Come on, come
on," he muttered to himself. He could clearly see Starbuck's viper
dodging the laser fire. There were black scorch marks on the wings...
they were too close. Boomer felt the desperation grab at his heart but
he kept his head, the training paying off. Slowly, painfully slowly the
left flanking Cylon fighter came into his sights. Boomer waited for a
split micron then hit his lasers. The fighter disintegrated into a
million fragments.
     Starbuck caught the explosion out of the corner of his eye, but
before he could relay his thanks a series of laser bursts sparked above
his canopy. Starbuck gritted his teeth and sent his craft into a downward
spin, hoping to throw off the unrelenting Cylons. The lasers continued to
stream past him. "Damn it!" Starbuck swore. They were good, too good. He
couldn't get them off. He pulled hard out of the spin, the g-force
pushing him into his seat. Another blast of fire, his viper bucked
violently, triggering alarms in the cockpit, red warning lights flashing
urgently. A quick glance, Starbuck swore silently to himself. They'd
knocked out his landing gear. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the
two Cylons doggedly on his tail.
     "Errr Boomer, today would be real nice." Starbuck forced his humor
to the surface.
     Boomer could feel the sweat beading his brow. He had seen the last
Cylon laser blast hit his friend's viper. "I coming buddy, just hang in
there..." Boomer swung below the second Cylon, out of sight, then
in a sweeping arc pulled up firing. His lasers blasted through the sky
and caught the attack craft squarely, blowing it apart before its crew
even realized what had hit them.
     That left one.
     Starbuck could feel heat warming his legs. He didn't dare to
investigate the cause of the increase in temperature and threw his
struggling viper into a spiral climb. The damn Cylon stayed with him. 
     Boomer pushed his craft around after the last Cylon urging every
last thrust out of the engines
but he seemed so far away. "Starbuck I'm coming, just a few more
microns." Boomer tried to sound convincing but he knew he just could not
get there fast enough.
     Starbuck was getting angry. He had not spent the last few sectars
going through hell and back
just to go and get killed in his first live Cylon attack.  "OK
Metalheads, lets see how you like a taste of your own medicine..." he
muttered fiercely through gritted teeth.
     Another burst of laser fire suddenly rocked his viper, a violent
blast. Abruptly the speed dropped, causing him to sag forward in his
seat. Frack! They had destroyed the high engine. That was it. Now he was
really angry. Starbuck stomped on the rear thrust, pulling full flaps as
he did so. The move sent the viper catapulting backward missing the
pursuing Cylon by metrons. Starbuck didn't flinch or hesitate. He could
feel his engines coughing, misfiring... the heat was getting harder to
ignore. The Cylon was now in his sights. A slow smile pursed his lips.
     "This is for my family," Starbuck quietly whispered to himself. He
firmly triggered his lasers and blasted the final Cylon into a satisfying
ball of flames.
     Boomer sagged with relief as the Cylon disappeared from the sky. It
was over. They had survived. He brought his viper in a gentle sweeping
curve up alongside his buddy.
     "You OK Starbuck?" Now he was closer, Boomer could see the extent of
the damage on his friend's viper. 
     Starbuck grimaced as the heat started to lick at his feet. "Errrr
its getting kinda warm in here.." He looked at his readouts. They weren't
good. He was not going to make it back to the base.
      Boomer felt the panic rise again, renewed by his friend's comments.
"Give it to me straight Starbuck. What's the story?" Boomer wanted to
hear how bad the damage was on the inside. He could see only too clearly
now how bad it was outside. There was no way Starbuck would get his
landing gear down. The whole of the high engine had disappeared along
with half of the top wing and, as if it wasn't enough, there was black
smoke billowing from the under the front of the stricken aircraft.
     Starbuck sighed and concentrated on his computer evaluation
scrolling down the screen in front of him. It was useless. He was going
down. "I've gotta get down Boomer." Starbuck felt flames burning his
lower legs, the smoke suddenly filling the cockpit. "She's gonna explode
any micron. Get back, get the medics ...I'm gonna need them." Starbuck
suddenly felt calm accepting his fate. He switched a couple of the
systems to their backups hoping to save power but it did nothing. Feeling
sober Starbuck looked up again to see Boomer flying along side looking
back at him, the concern clear on his friends features even at a
distance.
     "Starbuck, you'll be ok." But Boomer didn't sound too sure.
     Starbuck forced a grin. "Hey, of course I'll be ok. I just gotta get
this little baby on the ground then you owe me big time in the Graduates
Lounge. The first tank of grog is definitely on you buddy." He flinched
as the flames scorched the skin on his shins.
     Boomer smiled, knowing his friend was all bravado now. "Starbuck
just get down in one piece ok. I'll be waiting."
     "I'll be ok Boomer." Starbuck was quiet now, determined.
     Boomer nodded briefly and pulled his viper away. He immediately sent
a distress call back to the base, requesting search and rescue, using his
current co-ordinates as a marker. He watched Starbuck battle for control
of the doomed craft. Boomer's heart pounded in his ears. He couldn't take
his eyes from his friend, following him until the last possible moment.
Boomer closed his eyes as Starbuck's viper crashed into a vegetated area
not far from the buildings they had valiantly defended. A few microns of
stillness then a huge explosion that shook his craft as he flew over the
crash site. Boomer shuddered trying not to think the worst. He had to get
down there and fast.
     Boomer landed his viper in a nearby field, not caring for crops or
other pleasantries. He scrambled out of his cockpit. His eyes riveted to
the billowing black smoke rising above the trees some metrons away. He
could already hear the sirens of the attending emergency services. Boomer
fought back the images that tried to overwhelm him.
      "He'll be ok," he whispered to himself. "Starbuck always gets out
of everything. He'll be fine."
     Another explosion from the crash site, smaller but it sent fresh
debris into the air. Boomer swore and started running, disregarding his
helmet on the ground, leaving the cockpit open and not giving a damn. He
felt the desperation grow as he sprinted through the undergrowth towards
his friends downed plane. As he burst through into a clearing, the sight
of the wrecked viper stopped him abruptly. Even though the emergency
services had everything in hand, he could see how bad the damage had
been. They sprayed fire retardant foam over the destroyed viper. The
flames started to die away.
     Boomer looked for a sign of life, his eyes searching the faces of
all the uniforms at the scene, searching for the one face he needed to
see. Then he saw the medics crouched over a stricken form on the ground.
Boomer knew it was Starbuck and bolted across to the crowd.
     "Starbuck!" he pushed through to his friend.
     Starbuck grinned up at him. "Hey Boomer!" He sounded pleased to see
him.
     Boomer couldn't help the smile of relief. Starbuck was tied securely
to a stretcher, his legs wrapped in a cooling gel bag. A cut across his
forehead bled gently. There was a nice bruise on his chin. It didn't look
like he had just survived the devastating crash behind them.
     Boomer shook his head in disbelief. "I don't know how you do it."
     Starbuck flashed a knowing smile, looking at the beautiful female
medic who was bending over
him, dabbing at the wound on his head. "Oh Boomer," he sighed happily,
"It takes practice...yahrens of practice..." Starbuck added wistfully.
     Boomer laughed.

Two sectars later...

     Graduation Day! At last the day they had all been working towards.
Boomer replaced the cape on his dress uniform for the fifth time, trying
to get it to hang just right. His fingers fumbled nervously on the catch.
He swore silently under his breath then sighed gratefully as it finally
slid into place. Boomer eyed himself critically in the mirror for the
millionth time. He was still looking for non-existent faults when
Starbuck strolled in whistling, a towel wrapped around his waist, his
chest damp with water.
     Starbuck laughed. "Boomer you were there before I went to the
turbowash!"
     Boomer frowned half-heartedly. "I know. It's just that we gotta look
good. Today is gonna be one of the most important days of our lives!" He
turned to his friend, glad to see that Starbuck was not limping quite so
noticeably.
     "Boomer, we got a couple of centons yet before we have to be at the
grounds." Starbuck shook his head in bemusement.
     Boomer sat down and fiddled with his boots. "I know, it's just I'm
kinda nervous."
     "About what? We've done it, we're through." Starbuck started to pull
his uniform on.
     "Yeah, but we're gonna find out where we're assigned to..."Boomer
broke off, reluctant to say what he really feared.
     Starbuck picked up on it instantly. He turned and looked down at
Boomer. "Come on buddy, there's more you're not telling me." He waited
patiently.
     Boomer sighed again and ran his fingers through his hair, "It's
just...well..." He hesitated again.
     "Well what?" Starbuck knew what Boomer was getting to, but wanted
his friend to admit it.
     Boomer glanced up at him a cynical glint in his eye. He knew when
Starbuck was baiting him. "What if we're assigned to separate bases?"
Secretly Boomer was quite anxious about it. Starbuck was one of the
closest friends he ever had. He had been there for him when other Cadets
had tried to bully him because of his criminal background and had given
advise when he had struggled through some of the flying tests. Boomer
didn't want them to be separated now.
     Starbuck grinned. "It'll be okay. Trust me."
     Boomer frowned. He didn't like the sound of that. "What do you mean
trust you?" Boomer nailed Starbuck with a glare. "Starbuck, have you been
up to something?"
     Starbuck looked genuinely hurt. "What me? Up to something? Boomer
how could you think that?"
      Boomer laughed and shook his head. "I know you buddy. And I know
when you are up to something."
     Starbuck grinned knowingly. "Like I said Boomer just trust me."
     Boomer rolled his eyes. Maybe it was safer if he didn't ask too many
questions. Then he could always deny everything later.

     The graduation ceremony was an impressive occasion. All the families
attended to watch their daughters or sons pass through into the Colonial
Military Service. All the political dignitaries and some important
Military Commanders also attended. Starbuck felt a little bitter that
there was no one to watch him receive his Colonial Insignia. But then he
knew Boomer had no one there either. His family was too poor to afford
the long trip across Caprica to the Academy. Boomer, however, was still
thrilled at being at such an important venue with so many significant and
powerful individuals. He nudged Starbuck as they stood in formation on
the parade ground.
     "Look over there. Can you believe it!" he whispered excitedly.
     Starbuck sighed. He was still not keen on this formation thing.
"What?"
     "That's Commander Adama, of the Battlestar Galactica." Boomer could
barely contain himself.
     Starbuck eyebrows rose. "Really? Where?" Even he was interested to
see the legendary Commander Adama.
     "Over there look, sitting next to Commander Ryder." Boomer almost
pointed but stopped himself in time.
     Interested Starbuck looked across at the tall, distinguished looking
grey haired man. "So that's him. Hmmm looks like he means business. I
wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of him," he muttered more to
himself than to Boomer.
     "Don't worry. Only a handful of graduates get assigned to the
Galactica. No-one has ever made it directly into Blue Squadron...well..."
Boomer reconsidered his last statement. "All except for his son last
yahren of course."
     Starbuck huffed, "Why am I not surprised. They always look after
their own."
     "The guy did beat every record in the Academy and graduated top of
the yahren." Boomer felt he needed to justify it.
     Starbuck looked scornful. "I wasn't there last yahren. I wiped his
scores in the flying tests."
     Boomer laughed. "Yeah but it was close, even you have to admit it."
     Starbuck shrugged indifferently. "Maybe things will be different
this time."
     Boomer felt his heart sink. He looked at his friend sharply.
"Starbuck what the hell have you done?" he demanded as harshly as he
could in a whisper.
     Starbuck smiled a sly smile. "Just wait and see."
     Boomer shut his eyes in despair and groaned, "By the Lords of Kobol,
why do I know I am not going to like this."
     Starbuck almost laughed. "Boomer just trust me."
     Boomer just wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

     Commander Ryder took the podium and looked down at the class of
Graduates beneath him. The arena was filled with families, friends,
politicians and Military personnel. Today was an important occasion in
the Caprican calendar.
     "Ladies, Gentleman, Cadets. Thank you all for coming here today to
witness the passing out of this yahrens Academy. These fine men and women
have all worked extremely hard to be here today. There were many others
that were unable to make it through. But these youngsters here, standing
before you, have what it takes to be in the Colonial Military Service.
They have all shown dedication, skill and even bravery to get through the
harsh and difficult time at the Caprican Academy..."
     The speech droned on. Starbuck's attention wandered. It was several
microns later as he was eyeing up a rather pretty woman in the crowd that
Boomer jabbed him hard in the ribs.
     Annoyed Starbuck looked at his friend. "What?" he demanded.
     "Listen!" Boomer hissed back.
     Starbuck focused back to Commander Ryder. He quickly realized that
the assignments were being read out. Ryder was already half way through
the postings. He swallowed nervously. What if it hadn't worked?
     "Ensigns Reega, Vectra and Leech. Congratulations you have been
awarded places on the Battlestar Atlantia." 
     The crowd applauded. 
     Boomer looked impressed. Starbuck smiled to himself.
     "Ensigns Lorn, Keele, Hode and Partra. You have succeeded in being
assigned to the Scorpion Outpost of Scarabea."
     Amongst the applause Boomer could hear excited mutters from a group
of the Cadets. Scarabea was well known for its front line offensive
approach to the Cylon Empire. Boomer looked disappointed. He had heard
nearly everyone's names now, but not Starbuck's and his own. Maybe they
had done a lot worse than he had hoped.
      "And finally, as reward for outstanding conduct, consistent high
scores and brilliant aptitude and skill, the following Cadets have been
successful in gaining rare places upon the Battlestar Galactica..."
     Boomer held his breath. This couldn't be right...maybe he had missed
his name...
     "Ensign Lolle. You have been awarded a place on the Galactica's
bridge."
     There was an excited shout from the back of the group and the crowd
applauded again enthusiastically.
     "Ensign Howell. You have been awarded a place within the
Navigational Centre."
     Boomer saw the said Cadet grin happily.
     "And to conclude today's ceremony..." Commander Ryder seem to
hesitate. He looked to be rereading the print out in front of him. He
frowned and lent over to his aide, muttering urgently. Colonel Yuri
examined the list, frowned and then nodded, shrugging off his confusion.
"And to conclude today's ceremony," Ryder repeated hesitantly, "We have
two Cadets which have the extreme privilege of passing into Blue Squadron
upon the Battlestar Galactica. A rare commission if there ever is one."
Ryder paused again, as if not sure whether to continue. He took a deep
breath. "Ensigns Boomer and Starbuck, please step forward so we may all
congratulate you on your unprecedented success."
     The crowd erupted in rapturous applause.
    Boomers jaw dropped. Surely he misheard it. He looked at Starbuck who
was grinning madly.
     "I told you to trust me." Starbuck winked slyly.
     Boomer looked horrified, "You didn't!" Oh no! He knew Starbuck had
been up to something.
     Starbuck grinned and whispered covertly in Boomers ear. "Nothing a
little modification to the Computer system couldn't do."
     Boomer cringed. He was about to take the biggest step in his whole
goddamn life. And Starbuck had shoved them smack bang in the middle of
the hottest squadron in the entire Colonial Fleet. They wouldn't last two
microns.
     Starbuck proudly stepped up to the podium. Boomer followed closely
behind shaking his head and muttering to himself. Commander Ryder looked
at the young blonde haired warrior skeptically. He didn't believe the
results of the computer assessments in front of him but could not dispute
the fact given by
the computer for the assignment to the Galactica. It had declared the
assignments were justified due to the two Cadets outstanding bravery and
combat skills against a squadron of Cylon Attack Craft. Their actions had
without doubt saved hundreds of civilian's lives. Because of their
selfless act they were being appointed the positions within Blue
Squadron. However he was also suspicious that there was more to this than
met the eye.
     Cautiously Commander Ryder shook Starbucks hand. "Congratulations
Ensign Starbuck. You must be very surprised." His tone of voice indicated
he felt the opposite.
     Starbuck grinned. "I think it's deserved sir."
     Ryder regarded the remark with increasing suspicion. 
     Starbuck moved along the line to shake Colonel Yuri's hand and then
Commander Adama's. As he took the great man's hand even Starbuck felt
humble.
     "Congratulations Ensign Starbuck." Adama gravely voice sounded
genuine.
     "Thank you sir." Starbuck tried not to sound nervous.
     "You must be an outstanding pilot. I look forward to seeing your
skills aboard the Galactica." Adama smiled.
     Starbuck was sure he saw a cunning glint in Adama's eyes. He felt a
stirring in the pit of his stomach. Nerves or was it fear? "It will be a
privilege to serve you sir," Starbuck humbly said. 
     "Oh I am sure it will," Adama answered smoothly. He examined the
young warrior with a measured eye. Why did he have a feeling that this
Ensign would be in front of him again and soon.
     As Starbuck and Boomer moved away, their new Blue Squadron insignia
on their uniforms, Starbuck had second thoughts about his rash actions.
     "Did he seem suspicious to you?" he asked Boomer.
     Boomer looked back at the podium, "Which one?"
     "Adama." Starbuck looked back at the Commander who was now in deep
conversation with Ryder.
     "Buddy I think they all seemed suspicious. I think we are in way
over our heads. I am never going to forgive you for this!" Boomer was
still angry, and scared. There was no way he thought his flying skills
were anywhere near good enough for Blue Squadron. Typical of Starbuck to
act first then think later.
     Starbucks thoughts were elsewhere. "I think he was just sounding us
out. We'll be fine." He turned and looked back at Boomer. Grinning from
ear to ear he announced happily, "Boomer, you and I are gonna have the
time of our lives!"
     Boomer groaned. He wouldn't like to put any cubits on that. He felt
their lives were about to take a turn... but probably for the worse.

THE END...but to be continued