Promises
     -- an alternate Pre-Galactica: 1980 story --
                 by Seanchaidh

        Lieutenant Starbuck's log,
        Everyone is gathered on the bridge, waiting for
Apollo to return.  They're either there, or they're out
looking for him.  He's been overdue for nearly eighteen
centars, and everyone thinks that he'll turn up.  I don't
blame them.  Apollo's had a reputation for appearing out of
nowhere, just when everybody thinks that he's gone.
        But that's not the case this time.  I think Sheba
suspects what I know, but no one else does.  I saw Apollo
die.  I held my best friend in my arms during his final
painful moments of life, but I can't tell anyone about what
I know.  I promised him that I wouldn't tell anyone, and I'm
a man of my words.  Or at least I like to think that I am.
        That's why I'm writing out this log.  Kobol knows,
I've never really been fond of writing, except for the
reports that I've had to write for Apollo and the Commander.
Normally, I'd be talking to Cassiopia about this.  She would
listen and hold me, telling me that I did everything that I
could for him.  That I made his death a little easier for
him.  I don't know.  I'm not sure about anything anymore.
What I'll do with this log when I'm finished is my guess,
but in the meantime, I need to get this out.  I have to tell
somebody about Apollo, and this is the only option available
to me.

        Starbuck stopped and looked at his writing.
Normally neat and stylish, it was cramped onto the page.  He
smiled to himself as he realized that he'd have to
practically place his nose next to the page and squint at
it.  That was good.  It would be difficult for anyone else
to read, which was exactly what he wanted.
        "Damn you, Apollo," he muttered, not really meaning
the curse.  Who knew where Apollo's spirit was now?  He
hoped that wherever his friend was, Apollo could be happy.
That didn't help Starbuck's situation at all, though.  "Why
did you have to leave me with this mess?"
        Leaning back against the chair, Starbuck stared at
the wall as he tried to think of a way to write the next
section.  How could he write this?  His thoughts traveled
back to the events that had occurred earlier that cycle as
he searched for the right words.

------------------------------------------------------------
        Apollo tried to finish inspecting his ship as
Starbuck followed him, chattering away like a kind avian
that used to like sitting outside windows in Caprica's
temperate zone.  Loud, noisy, and annoying.  Starbuck did a
good imitation.
        "Starbuck, would you mind shutting up for a micron?"
he asked, whirling on his friend.  He laughed at Starbuck's
hurt expression.  "I'm sorry, but you're distracting me from
my inspection."
        "Sorry," Starbuck said, genuinely apologetic.  "But
will you mind clearing up something for me?  Cassiopia kept
on dropping hints about something between you and Sheba."
        Rolling his eyes, Apollo shook his head in
annoyance.  "If I tell you, will you let me finish the
inspection?"
        "Of course."  He grinned.  "You know how I love good
gossip, especially when it's about my best friend."
        "I wouldn't call it gossip, but if I can get at
least one micron of silence..."  Apollo sighed, motioning
for Starbuck to come close.  There was a smile on his lips,
and he suddenly looked eager to tell Starbuck.  "I'm going
to ask Sheba to be my wife.  Tonight, as soon as I can after
I get back from my patrol."
        "That's great!" Starbuck exclaimed, giving Apollo a
congratulatory hug.  "I'm happy for you!  It's about time!
How long has it been?  Four yahrens?"
        "Yeah, something like that.  And do you know what?"
Apollo laughed as he continued.  "I'm as nervous as a first-
orbit cadet!"
        "At least you've got experience in that area,"
Starbuck told him.  "Is this why you're going out on solo
patrol?"
        "I need time to think, and I'm not going to get it
on this battlestar, or anywhere else in the fleet."  Apollo
smiled in excitement.  "It'll be just me and the stars.
Exactly what I need."
        "Oh."  Starbuck fell silent as Apollo finally
completed the inspection.  "Everything all right?"
        "More or less.  The port stabilizer needs a bit of
adjusting, but I think it'll hold for a little while
longer."  Apollo headed up the small set of stairs up to the
cockpit, where his flight helmet was already sitting.  "And
that's it.  I'm ready to go."
        When Apollo was sitting in the cockpit, making sure
that the helmet was resting properly on his head, Starbuck
touched him lightly on the arm.  "Good luck, buddy."
------------------------------------------------------------

        My famous luck wasn't to be with Apollo that cycle.
        He left a few microns later, and as I turned to
leave the launching bay, a strange feeling came over me.  At
the time, I didn't know what it was.  I'm normally an
optimist, everybody knows that, but this time, I couldn't
get rid of this very pessimistic feeling.  Something was
wrong, I knew, and as I tried to think of what was the
matter, Apollo's words came back to me, when he was talking
about the stabilizer.
        Stabilizers are important for Vipers.  I don't know
the precise engineering specifications, since I'm a warrior,
not a tech, but I do know that they're needed.  If the Viper
is in an atmosphere, the stabilizers help maintain a sort of
balance.  In space, they prevent the Viper from tumbling end
over end.  Losing a stabilizer is something that no pilot
wants to deal with.  A good pilot can handle it, but there
are situations that even good pilots can't handle.
        Apollo's patrol came and went.  He was scheduled to
be out there for about two centars.  A single pilot isn't
encouraged to go too far ahead, but Apollo was never known
for following orders... exactly.  When Adama alerted Sheba,
Boomer and I to stand by, no explanation given, I knew that
it had to do with Apollo.  The Commander recently adopted a
new policy when it comes to search parties.  If the pilot
disappeared in a sector known to be under Cylon control,
then it's unlikely that Vipers will be sent out to retrieve
or search for the pilot.  In cases like Apollo's, where they
simply disappear, a cautionary intercept is sent out to do
some reconnoitering.
        And that's what we were eventually sent out to do.
We were given Apollo's last known coordinates, and we
launched.  There was a spattering of conversation between us
three, and for Sheba's sake, along with ours, I hoped that
we would find Apollo.  No, not hoped.  Prayed.  Sheba
sounded so happy, despite her concern about Apollo, and that
gave _me_ hope.
        The star system we found was very large, and we
decided to split up to investigate it.  Was it luck or fate
that led me to that little blue and white planet?

------------------------------------------------------------
        It appeared on Starbuck's scanner as though coming
from nowhere.  For a few microns, it reminded him of his
home world, Caprica, but only for the few microns.  He
quickly started a scan of the planet's surface, keeping the
Viper out of its gravitational pull.  He didn't stay there
for very long.  Something was urging him down to the
surface.
        Obeying the feeling, Starbuck soon found what he was
looking for.  A long trail of thick, black smoke snaking up
into the sky.  Flying over the site, he spotted what
appeared to be a crash-site.  Feeling his heart sinking, he
brought the Viper down a few dozen metrons from the wreck.
Climbing out, he started running toward the source of the
black smoke.
------------------------------------------------------------

        I could tell almost right away that it was a wreck
of a Viper.  There was no mistaking the wings and the nose.
I started to feel ill as I circled it.  The engines were
still smoking from whatever explosion had brought the Viper
down, and I worried that the Tylium had leaked around on the
surrounding terrain.  One spark from the engines could make
the whole wreck burst into flames.
        I didn't see anything during my first round.  At
first, it didn't appear that anything could have survived.
I've seen many wrecks during my career, and Kobol knows that
I've created a few of my own, but this was the worst I'd
ever seen, in real life or otherwise.  Apollo was nowhere to
be seen.
        Or so I thought.  As I was just about to give up
hope, I heard something.

        Starbuck stopped writing as he shivered
uncontrollably.  The physically and emotionally painful
noise that he heard would haunt him forever.

------------------------------------------------------------
        He cocked his head, not sure that he'd heard
something.  For a micron, he was tempted to think that it
was his imagination.  But there wasn't a wind, shown by the
almost straight line of smoke going into the atmosphere.
        It came a second time, louder.  This time, Starbuck
recognized it as a moan, and it sounded exactly like Apollo.
Unable to ascertain where it originated from, he called out,
"Apollo!  Good buddy, can you hear me?"
        The voice that responded was weak.  "Starbuck, thank
God...  Over here..."
        "Keep on talking, Apollo.  I can't see you."
        There was silence for a micron, then Apollo spoke
again.  "I can sort of see you...  Move to your right... and
keep on going... that's right.  Can you see me?"
        Glancing around, Starbuck finally spotted Apollo
trapped underneath the wreckage of the Viper.  His helmet
was lying at his side, and Starbuck could see that he was
bleeding heavily from a gash on his forehead.  He didn't
want to know what other injuries Apollo might have.
        "Let's get you out of here," Starbuck said, bending
down to examine where his friend was trapped.  He could see
that Apollo had been halfway thrown out the cockpit upon
impact, and the cockpit had rolled onto him, effectively
crushing his legs just above his knees.  The canopy was
lying uselessly a few metrons away, the transparent Tylinium
completely shattered.  He braced himself against the body of
the fighter, and pushed.
        He was successful for a few microns.  The edge of
the cockpit lifted up, and as Starbuck glanced back, he
could see that Apollo's legs were unmistakably useless.
Feeling his face pale, he tried pushing the cockpit again,
but this time, it fell back to its original position.
Apollo screamed at the pain, turning his face away from
Starbuck for a few microns.
        "Stop... it!" he gasped.  "Just... stop... please?"
        "But --"
        "Starbuck..."  Apollo's tone was the one he normally
used when giving orders, but it was so much weaker now.
"Stop..."
        "I've got to get you out of here.  What do you think
would happen if I use both our lasers to cut the metal of
the hull so I can push the two sections apart?" Starbuck
asked, beginning to feel optimistic.  "That way, I can --"
        "No.  I don't... have... that much... time.  I'm...
not..."  He stopped, gathering strength, then finished his
phrase in one hurried breath.  "I'm not going to make it."
        Starbuck waved his words away.  "Don't be silly.  Of
course you're going to make it, Apollo.  Just let me --"
        "No... I'm not.  You're... just saying... that
for... my benefit... and you know it... Starbuck."  Weakly,
he motioned with his left hand.  "Come here....  Please."
        Reluctantly backing away from the metal, Starbuck
knelt by his injured friend.  He grabbed Apollo's hand,
squeezing it as he spoke.
        "What do you mean, you're not going to make it?"
------------------------------------------------------------

        Gathering what little strength he had left, Apollo
explained to me everything that had occurred during the time
period he'd been missing.  The stabilizer that he'd been
confident about, and that I had worried about, had failed.
He was flying past a neighboring asteroid when it simply cut
out.  At the same time, a small Cylon patrol came across
him.  Trying to use his disabled Viper as best he could, he
fought against them, but the last Cylon took out his other
stabilizers.  Before he spun completely out of control, he
destroyed the Raider, then plummeted down into the
atmosphere of the larger planet.  He crashed, and had lost
consciousness when the ship crushed him.  A few centons
before I flew overhead, he woke up, barely able to stand the
pain.

------------------------------------------------------------
        Apollo was crying as he finished his story.  He
tried to brush his tears away, but he was too weak.
Sighing, Starbuck lift him up, so that his friend was
resting against him.  Apollo groaned at the movement, but
didn't complain as he found himself sitting somewhat
upright.  It was easier for him to breathe now.
        "I disobeyed the first rule of inspection,
Starbuck," he added.  "I should have put my Viper up for
repairs, but, no, I had to be stubborn and take her out."
        "It's all right, I'd probably have done the same
thing if I were in your place.  Stabilizers are finicky
things.  What would have been worse is if you hadn't found
it at all."
        "I'm the captain, Starbuck, and I'm not allowed to
make mistakes."  Apollo shook his head as best he could.
"It's my own fault I'm in this mess."
        "Sure, you're in a mess, but we'll get you out of
it."  Starbuck looked back at the wreck.  He was certain
that the lasers could cut through it.  It might take a few
centons to do it, maybe even centars, but did he have enough
time?  "Anyway, what about your family?  I doubt Boxey's
going to be able to take it, losing another parent."
        "Boxey will be fine.  He has you, my father, Athena,
Sheba..."  Apollo closed his eyes, taking in a sharp breath,
then whispered, "Sheba..."
        "That's right, what about Sheba?"  Starbuck couldn't
keep his voice from growing harsh.  "What happened to the
guy who said that he'd be proposing to her when he returned
from his patrol?"
        "If I'm the kind of guy she's going to be sealed to
for the rest of her life, I think she's better off with
someone else."  Apollo shook his head again, as though
admitting that he was finally being defeated.  "Bojay would
probably treat her better.  He's not as stupid as I am."
------------------------------------------------------------

        I didn't know whether to laugh at him, or to yell at
him.  I think he was getting delirious from the blood loss,
but I'll never know for sure.  At the time, I was pretty
sure that Apollo was completely serious.  He had a way about
him when he was serious, an expression that screamed to the
world that he wasn't joking.  He was using it then.
        It was clear to me now that Apollo was at least
right about not making it.  As each micron passed, he became
weaker and weaker until he was completely leaning against
me.  He had no strength whatsoever, and it wasn't long
before we both realized that the end had come.

        Pausing from his writing, Starbuck leaned his head
against the tabletop.  Apollo's whispers still echoed
through his mind, and every time he heard it, he felt like
crying.  He pressed his fists against his closed eyes,
trying not to shed the tears that he knew were coming, as he
recalled Apollo's final moments in this lifetime.

------------------------------------------------------------
        "Starbuck, I'm going now," Apollo said.  His voice
was so soft that Starbuck had to bend his head down next to
Apollo's to hear him.
        "There's still a chance.  If you can just hang on a
little longer, I can get help.  The others could get here in
just a few centons."  Even as he said the words, he knew
they were useless.  If Apollo really wanted to be rescued,
Sheba and Boomer would have been there a long time ago.
"Apollo, please... stay.  What am I going to do without you
to reign me in when I go astray?"
        Apollo started laughing, then coughed violently.  To
Starbuck's alarm, he brought up a little blood, showing that
he had massive internal injuries.  When the spasm passed, he
leaned heavily against Starbuck and sighed.
        "Maybe I'll really be your conscience," he mused,
sounding very amused.  "I'll be that little voice you hear
in your ear, warning you when you're about to get into deep
trouble."
        "The problem is that my conscience already sounds
like you," Starbuck chuckled, smiling at the thought.  "The
job's already filled."
        "Too bad.  It might have been fun."
        Starbuck continued to chuckle, then stopped in panic
when he saw Apollo's eyes suddenly close.  He shook Apollo's
body, trying not to get hysterical.  "Apollo?  Apollo!"
        "No need to shout, Bucko," he replied, reopening his
eyes.  "I'm still here.  For another few microns, at least."
        Knowing that Apollo was probably right, Starbuck
looked away, determined not to let himself cry in front of
him.  "So, buddy... Any last requests?  Anything you want me
to tell everybody back home?"
        "Now that you mention it, there is."  Apollo looked
up at him.  "Promise me that you'll do them, no questions
asked?"
        "I promise.  What are they?"
        "Starbuck, you can't tell them what happened to me.
I don't want Boxey to think any less of me, or Sheba,
either.  Let them think that I've disappeared into the
stars."  Apollo grinned.  "Let them think that I'm doing
what I love best.  Deep star exploration.  Sounds almost
like something out of a legend, doesn't it?"
        "But --"
        "No buts, buddy.  With Boxey, though, make sure that
you tell him that I'll be with him always, just the way I
told him Serina would."
        "You can't be serious."  Starbuck shook his head at
Apollo's words, not able to comprehend them.  "Look, buddy,
you don't understand.  When we left the ship, your father
was completely on edge.  I mean, he _wanted_ us to get out
here to find you.  He wants to see you again.  Either that,
or have a definite fate for you."
        "Starbuck, please, don't argue with me.  I'm not up
to arguing.  Just say you will."  Apollo's grin widened.
"Don't make my last actions be that of pulling rank on you,
Lieutenant."
        "Apollo, I..."  Starbuck shook his head.  "All
right.  I will.  No one aboard the _Galactica_ will know
where you went."
        "Thank you, Starbuck."  Apollo's body suddenly
stiffened, and he gasped in pain, his eyes widening.  "I'll
see you later."
        Before Starbuck could say anything, Apollo went
completely limp in his arms, staring blankly ahead of him.
Starbuck was unable to speak for a few microns, not sure of
what he should do next.
        "That's right, old buddy," he finally whispered,
gently brushing Apollo's eyelids shut.  "I'll see you
later."
------------------------------------------------------------

        For the next few centons, I stayed with Apollo's
body.  I couldn't get the thought into my head that he was
really gone.  It actually took me a while to realize that he
wasn't just pretending to be dead.  He really was _gone_.
But I couldn't cry, there on the planet.  It was still too
fresh in my mind, but I knew that I would when the reality
really set in.
        Resting him on the ground, I checked where Apollo
was trapped.  Staring at the wreck, I knew that I had to try
freeing him, at least once.  Checking first for any possible
Tylium leaks, which didn't exist, I went back for Apollo's
laser, and used it to blast as much of a hole as I could.
It sort of worked, and after working for half a centar, I
had a hole big enough to drag him out.
        Looking back, I almost wish that I hadn't.  Looking
at Apollo's shattered lower half, I felt extremely ill.  It
was almost a good thing that he did die.  I'd hate to
picture him going through all the surgery and the
rehabilitation.  I doubt that he'd even have the patience to
go through it all.  Chances were that he wouldn't even be
able to walk or play Triad again.  That was no kind of a
life for someone as active as Apollo.
        I did the only thing I could think of doing.  There
was a small outcropping of rocks nearby, so I carried
Apollo's body there.  I arranged his body so he would look
as peaceful as possible, but it wasn't easy, given how
horrible his injuries were.  I then covered him with the
rocks, until he wasn't visible and there was a cairn in
front of me.  I think I did a good job.
        I headed back for my Viper, and as I sat in my
cockpit, waiting for the engines to rev up, I was struck by
inspiration.  I could begin to honor my promises to Apollo
by wiping the area clear of all traces of the accident.
Once I was in the air, I circled the scene once, then I went
into a strafing run.  The lasers were right on target.  The
entire wreck was engulfed with flame.
        Before the flames and smoke hid everything, I saw
Apollo again.  He was standing on the perimeter of the
wreck, his helmet in hand.  He looked like he was inspecting
the area.  I circled the area, barely able to believe my
eyes.  Apollo looked up at my Viper, then grinned and waved.
A thick billow of smoke came between us.  When it
dissipated, he was gone.

------------------------------------------------------------
        He found Boomer and Sheba on the far end of the star
system.  Neither said anything until Starbuck was in visual
range.  Boomer's voice sounded completely drained, and
Starbuck forgot his own anguish as he listened to his
friends.
        "_Anything?_"
        "No.  Nothing at all."  Lying was easier than he
thought, but he wasn't proud of what he was doing.  "What
about you guys?"
        "_Same thing._"  Sheba sighed.  "_He's got to be out
here someplace.  A Viper just doesn't disappear like that!_"
        "_Apparently, Apollo's just done that,_" Boomer
said, sighing.  "_Come on, let's go home._"
        "_Boomer!_" Sheba snapped.  "_We can't just leave
him out here!_"
        "_If Apollo was out here, we'd have found him long
before now.  If he's ahead of our scanning range, which I
doubt, we'll pick him up.  Otherwise..._"  Boomer trailed
off.  "_Let's go._"
        Sheba didn't argue with him this time, and before
long, the three Vipers were back aboard the _Galactica_.
Adama was waiting for them in the landing bay, and it was
clear to them that he didn't care about military decorum.
He wanted to know where his son was.
        "Did you find anything?" he demanded.  His voice was
under control, but looking into his eyes, Starbuck could see
that Adama was in danger of losing it.  "Anything at all?"
        Boomer and Sheba shook their heads glumly, but
Starbuck found himself hesitating.  He couldn't stand seeing
Adama like this, and more than anything, he needed to tell
him about Apollo.  Before he could open his mouth, a voice
whispered into his ear, "_Remember, buddy..._"
        "Starbuck?"  There was a hopeful tone to Adama's
voice, as though he sensed that Starbuck knew something.  It
tore Starbuck's heart.  "Did you...?"
        "No, there was no sign of him," he heard himself
say.  "No sign of him at all."
        His control over his emotions threatening to break,
Adama left.  Starbuck could feel his anguish.  Unable to
move, he watched the commander leave.  No, he wasn't the
commander now.  He was simply Apollo's father, and he was
mourning.
        The three of them stayed together, hearing the lift
carry Adama out of the bay.  Sheba and Boomer waited for a
centon or two, then Boomer touched Starbuck's arm.
        "Come on, buddy," he said gently.  "Let's go,
and..."
        Unable to think of a way to finish the sentence, he
gently steered Starbuck toward the lift.  Sheba followed a
metron or so behind them.  Neither said anything until they
were inside, heading for their individual billets.  Boomer
looked down at Starbuck's right hand, and frowned.
        "What's that on your hand, Starbuck?" he asked.
Together, they examined the reddish-brown smear at was
smeared on the back of his hand.  "It looks like blood."
        "I must have scratched myself somehow," Starbuck
muttered, staring at it.  "You know how it is."
        "Yeah."  Boomer went back to staring at the
bulkhead.
        Starbuck couldn't, though.  He stared at the dried
blood, knowing that it was Apollo's, then looked up to see
Sheba staring at him.  There was something knowing about her
look, as though she could see through his facade.  Could she
figure out what had become of Apollo?
        But then she looked away, as her grief began to
threaten to come out.  As for Starbuck, for the first time
since his friend's death, he truly started to mourn for him.
------------------------------------------------------------

        I have to keep my promise to Apollo for the rest of
my life.  I don't think it's going to be easy.  If I run
into Sheba or Athena, or if I meet with Adama, or if Boxey
comes to see me...  If I see _any_ of them, I'll be reminded
of Apollo.  Then I'll be reminded of what I might have done
for him.  I don't know if I'll be able to stand it.
        The ironic part is that whenever I lie, I feel
horrible.  But a part of me feels a certain amount of relief
when the words come out, and something tells me that no
matter what, Apollo is with me.  And he's just as relieved
as I am.

        Starbuck put the pen down and shuffled through the
papers.  There were ten pages.  He was stunned.  He hadn't
thought that he was holding in any more emotions
about Apollo's death, but he could see that there was a lot
he hadn't let out yet.
        "What do I do with this now?" he wondered, folding
the papers together.  He decided to hide them away in his
locker for the time being.  Later on, he would think of a
way to dispose of them.
        He sighed, staring idly in front of him.  What would
he do next?  Under normal circumstances, he might go to the
_Rising Star_ with Apollo, or play Triad with him, or share
a drink with him and just talk.  He couldn't do any of those
things now.  Boomer was there, but he never had the direct
line of communication with Boomer about deep personal
subjects as he'd had with Apollo.
        "Damn you, Apollo," he said again, feeling his tears
coming to his eyes.  All he could do was repeat his earlier
words.  "Why?  Why did you have to leave me alone with this
mess?"

Continued in "The Game of Life"