Disclaimer: Don't sue me! This is for fun only. If anyone tries to make money from this, I will have to hunt you down and call you all the bad names my Mom wouldn't let me say when I was little. Someone else (Glen Larson) went to the trouble to invent most of these characters, I just had an idea for a story... Barb Together Apart Author: Barb Conway December 2, 1998 The star charts for this quadrant were no longer familiar. For that matter, they hadn't been familiar in some time but that did not matter to the young man leaning back in the single chair occupying the small dark room. The only lighting came from the stars themselves through the large transparent tylinium panels overhead. This compartment had once been a vital part of the enormous ship but had fallen into disuse with the advent of new methods of astronavigation and, like so many other relics, had been virtually discarded. The laws of entropy took over and for many yahrens it lay dormant and unused, deteriorated like a dusty old forgotten attic. That is, until one member of the crew had stumbled on its secret existence and resurrected it from the dead. That man now leaned back in the chair, hands clasped behind his head, and gazed out at the stars. Captain Apollo had been wandering the less frequented areas of the ship, looking for a place to be alone with his grief when he had discovered the passageway leading up from the bay housing the gigantic reactors that powered the battlestar. He still remembered his first reaction on powering back the protective outer panels to sit alone amongst the stars. Like riding in the hand of God, he mused. It was in this room that he shed so many tears for the losses of the last yahren. His younger brother Zac had been the first to die. Newly graduated from the Academy and assigned to Blue squadron under Apollo's command, Zac had yet to fly his first mission. He was so anxious to prove himself to Apollo that he had even conned Starbuck, Apollo's wingman, into faking an illness. He hoped that the older brother he had looked up to all his life would let him replace Starbuck and go on patrol just once before the impending armistice ended the thousand yahren war against the Cylons. It was to be his first mission and his last. The two brothers discovered a thousand Cylon attack craft waiting to ambush the Colonial fleet near the old moon, Cimtar and Zac's viper was disabled in their ensuing escape. Apollo had to leave Zac behind to warn the fleet, but only at the younger man's insistence. "You can fly with me anytime, little brother." The last words Apollo spoke to his brother would echo forever in his soul. He would never fly with Zac again, never touch him, never hear him laugh. Even now, a yahren later, though he knew his warning had probably made the difference between his people's survival and their complete annihilation, Apollo still wondered if he had done the right thing in leaving Zac behind. Ila, his mother, had been next. After the Cylon attack on the colonies, Apollo had flown his father down to the surface of their homeworld of Caprica. There, at the burned out remains of Apollo's childhood home, father and son discovered the fate of the woman who was wife and mother. For most of Apollo's childhood, Ila had been the only parent he knew. While Adama was almost always away on duty, she had been the one to comfort him when his daggit was hit by a hovercar... the one who helped him through the uncomfortable adjustments of adolescence and living in the shadow of the accomplishments of his father... the one who congratulated him when he graduated from the Colonial Academy. And then she was gone. No good-byes, no last chance to express his love for her, or thank her for all the yahrens of support and encouragement. One of the people he most cared about had died alone in her bombed-out home, and he, the Colonial warrior, had been too far away, too late to do anything to protect or comfort the woman who had protected and comforted him so many times before. Too late to do anything but mourn. And Serina. Apollo closed his eyes at the thought of his wife. Somehow, amid all the grief, despair, and confusion surrounding the destruction of the colonies, Serina had gathered the pieces of Apollo's heart and made them whole again. For a short time his sorrows were drowned out by the burning passion he and Serina shared. Then, as if to extract vengeance for the joy Apollo had found, fate intervened. He and Serina had been together such a short time. He had been standing right beside her when she had been fatally shot by a Cylon. Apollo often wondered what kind of a god would bring together two deeply loving souls for such a brief period of time before ripping them apart, and destroying all that had passed between them. Now, a single tear slipped from under his eyelid and slowly slid down his cheek before he reached up and brushed it away. No, that was wrong. Not everything between him and Serina had been destroyed on the sands of the planet Kobol. Serina's son Boxey had remained with his adopted father. Time and again, when Apollo would have given up and let the forces of darkness and death take him, he found himself thinking of that young boy who depended on and looked up to him. He could never bring himself to betray the love and the trust Boxey had put in him. Whatever the situation, he would pick himself up, redouble his efforts, and make sure that he kept his last promise to his dead wife to look after the boy. The Lords knew it was almost impossible some days, but somehow he managed. Apollo loved Boxey all the more for the little boy's understanding of his grief. He smiled as he remembered the day Boxey had come back from instructional period to discover him putting away Serina's clothes and other belongings. It had been a difficult thing to do, going through her things alone. Boxey took one look at the box full of clothes and told him not to worry, that since his mom was an angel watching out for them now, she wouldn't need those things anyway. Angels only needed someone to love and remember them. Apollo would never forget those comforting words and the big hug Boxey had given him. Sometimes he thought he might almost understand the strength his own father always said he could draw on, through the love of his children. He just wished that Serina had been able to share that with him. When she died, he thought his heart would never mend and that he would never again be able to open up to another woman as he had to her. Then Sheba entered his life. Daughter of the legendary Commander Cain, and a warrior to be reckoned with in her own right, she had literally turned his world upside down when they first met. She had almost blasted him out of the sky as her patrol from the Battlestar Pegasus intercepted his patrol from the Battlestar Galactica. Since that time she continued to challenge his ideas about everything from battle tactics, to how to play against a Triad opponent. More often than not, he left her presence feeling exasperated and wondering how such a contrary young woman seemed to inspire such loyalty among her friends, both old and new. And then something changed between them. The enigmatic Count Iblis had appeared and captivated the fleet with his promises. Sheba had been captivated too, lured by the Count's charm and grace. Without really acknowledging why, Apollo chafed at the thought of Sheba spending so much time and energy on this man. In the end, Iblis had turned out to be a sham, exposed by Apollo and Starbuck for the scheming force of evil he was. Iblis had tried to kill Sheba in retaliation, but Apollo interfered. Though the events that followed had never been very clear to Apollo, Sheba and Starbuck insisted that he had been killed when he stepped in front of the energy blast Iblis directed at Sheba. "I can't explain it," an exasperated Starbuck told him later, "but you weren't breathing and you had no pulse. We loaded your body on the shuttle, took off, then the next thing I know, you walk up behind Sheba in the co-pilot's chair and nearly scare me to death." The confrontation with Count Iblis seemed to awaken feelings in Apollo that he had thought long dead. He had almost lost Sheba that day. Just as he had lost Serina. It was then that he began to realize he was falling in love with the lieutenant. Then, the night before he and Starbuck left on the "one-way" mission to infiltrate a Cylon Basestar, Sheba had made clear her feelings for him. "Maybe two people who snap at each other for no reason are doing it to avoid their real feelings," she had told him. He still remembered the warmth of her body pressed against his and the way her hand softly caressed his neck when she kissed him. It had surprised and bothered him that he had wanted to pull her close and return the emotion she had been brave enough to show. Instead he had let her leave, torn between the love he knew he felt for her and his dedication to Serina's memory. That was how things had stayed between them since his successful return from the mission. He had all but avoided contact with her since then, unwilling or unable to address his feelings for Serina and his guilt over loving another woman. And it was slowly, but surely, tearing him in two. *************** Athena had noticed her brother's sleepless nights when he began to appear during her late duty shifts on the bridge. It was not unusual for Apollo to come to the bridge occasionally to talk to her, but lately he had been just hanging around, getting in her way more than anything else. She had noticed the dark circles under his eyes, the haggard look to his face, and the volatility of his temper. He seemed to have an even shorter fuse than usual, a surprising achievement since Apollo's temper was already well known, at least among the pilots. In short, he looked exhausted. That in itself was not new, since the Cylons had done a good job of keeping them all on edge, but Athena was concerned about how much more withdrawn her brother was becoming. It had seemed for a while as though Sheba was beginning to coax him out of his emotional shell, but something must have happened between them. She was sure of it. Since the attack on the Cylon baseship, Apollo had retreated back further inside himself than he had ever been. Athena hadn't seen him this withdrawn since the day Serina died. It bothered Athena to see her older brother so unsure of his footing. After all, he had always been the one to straighten out the messes she and their younger brother Zac had gotten themselves into. Apollo had taken his role as older brother very seriously. Come to think of it, she couldn't remember a time when Apollo hadn't taken everything seriously, far too seriously. Starbuck and Boomer were the only friends who were ever able to get him to relax. And then Sheba. But now it seemed as though even that had come to an end. When Athena had tried to get Apollo to talk to her, he had all but pushed her away, angry that she had thought to intrude into his affairs. It had been maddening to hear him speak to her that way. Even when they were kids he could be amazingly stubborn about working out his problems without help from anyone else. But sometimes, Athena thought, you couldn't do it alone. She wished she could get him to understand that it wasn't an admission of weakness to accept help from others. Then again, he was just as hardheaded as Starbuck, and not very likely to see her point of view. Starbuck certainly never did. The problem was, she could see the toll this was taking on Apollo, and she was afraid it might get to be a bigger problem than he could handle. The Lords of Kobol knew what would happen then. Well, if her big brother wouldn't listen to her, maybe he would pay attention to someone with a more objective view. That was when she decided to approach Cassiopeia. Cassiopeia and Starbuck had been sealed within a secton of Starbuck and Apollo's return from the Cylon baseship. Somehow on that mission, Starbuck had come to realize what Cassiopeia meant to him, and decided that she was the woman he was meant to share his life with. Athena was truly happy for both of them, and for herself. When she had been able to stop being the third member of their destructive love triangle, she had begun to appreciate what a good and honest person Cassie really was. She was certainly patient to a fault, since she had even managed to outlast the great womanizer, Lieutenant Starbuck. Athena waited until Cassiopeia's shift in the life center was over, before abducting her away to the officer's lounge for a drink. "Cass, I have a favor to ask of you," Athena began. "Sure, as long as it doesn't involve extra shift work. We are still trying to get things in order since we moved to the family quarters. I don't know how one man with one bunk and one locker could have so much junk." They laughed at the reference to Starbuck's penchant for hoarding. "It's about Apollo," Athena became serious. "Something has happened between him and Sheba, hasn't it?" Athena searched Cassiopeia's face for a sign that she might know something and was rewarded when Cassie sighed and looked away. At one time Cassiopeia and Sheba had been mortal enemies, each vying for the attention of one Commander Cain. The lover versus the daughter. Then the fortunes of war had separated them for a time. When fate had reunited the three, Cassiopeia had changed. She was a confident, competent member of a special group of people: the team of medical technicians and doctors that healed and patched up the Colonial warriors as best they could so that the fleet could continue to be protected from the Cylons and other unknown dangers that waited for the star voyagers. Sheba had come to respect and even to admire the person Cassiopeia had become, especially after she risked her own life to stay with a wounded Bojay during the advance strike on Gamoray. After Cain and the Pegasus disappeared for a second time, Sheba had become a close friend to the only other person on the Galactica who had known her father as well as she had. For Sheba, it had seemed like the closing of a chapter of her life. For Cassiopeia, it had seemed like a beginning. Athena's steady gaze across the table brought Cassiopeia's thoughts back to the present. "Athena, if it wasn't you, I wouldn't be saying a word of this," Cassiopeia replied to her friend's question. "Before the mission to the baseship, Sheba told Apollo how she felt about him. She asked me about whether or not she should say anything, because she didn't know how he would react. I told her she should at least make her feelings known, and find out where she stands. But Apollo has completely shut her out. I really think she is going to give up on him." "That frakking idiot!" Athena spat the words out, then seeing the look Cassie gave her, quickly added, "Not Sheba, my brother. Cass, that's the favor. Will you try to talk to him?" "I don't know what I can say if he won't talk to you. You're his sister." "Exactly. I'm just his sister. What do I know? You, though... you had enough sense to give Starbuck some room and enough patience to wait for him to come around. Apollo respects you for that." Athena pressed on when Cassiopeia began to shake her head. "You understand people, Cass. You always seem to know how to say the right thing. Please. Apollo is about ready to come apart at the seams. He's hardly slept in the last few sectons. It has to be this thing with Sheba that's bothering him, and I'm afraid of what might happen if he keeps on like this." Cassiopeia stared for a moment at the woman she had so disliked when she had first come aboard the Galactica. Somehow, they had become friends and now all she could see was Athena's concern for her brother mirrored in her eyes. At times, Apollo had been like a brother to Cassiopeia as well. He had been the one who had taken her away from the angry mob on the freighter, during the flight from the colonies. Even though she frequently wanted to throttle him for dragging Starbuck away on some impossible mission, she had to admit that it was Apollo who always made sure that Starbuck came back to her. "All right. I'll try, but if he won't listen to you, I don't think he'll pay attention to anything I have to say." "Thanks, Cass, I knew I could count on you." "Why don't you have him come by the life center next time he's on duty. We have to arrange to check all the emergency medical kits on the vipers anyway, and since he's the strike commander, that's his responsibility." Cassiopeia had no idea what she would say to him. She secretly hoped that Athena was right about her ability to say the right thing. The time came to test her ability near the end of her next shift. Even though Athena had warned her about the captain's lack of sleep, she was shocked to see how worn he looked when he stopped in at the life center. When the details had been hammered out about how to schedule the kit checks, Apollo turned to leave but Cassiopeia pulled him aside. "Apollo, can we talk?" she asked. He was about to make some comment about how much he had to get done before the Triad game that night, but something about the way she looked at him made him stop. "Alright. But I don't have long," he replied. He followed her into an empty treatment room, leaned against the edge of the counter and folded his arms across his chest. "What is it?" he asked impatiently, when she stopped and turned to face him. "Apollo, you know I have never pried into your private life," she began, "but I wanted to talk to you about Sheba." "Cass," he replied, shaking his head, "I don't want to go into this right now." "I know," she continued, "but please just hear me out. I wouldn't say this except that I don't want to see two people I care very much about, turn their backs on each other because they are too stubborn to communicate." Cassiopeia could see a number of different emotions all fighting for expression on the captain's face. He was angry with her. She could tell by the set of his jaw, but part of him wanted to hear what she had to say about Sheba. He glared at her silently, waiting for her to continue. "Apollo, she loves you. I know you know that. It's just that Sheba doesn't know what you want from her. She has tried to tell you how she feels, but she has no idea where she stands with you. You've shut her out. She thinks you just don't care." Apollo looked at the floor, his mind evidently somewhere else, although he had heard everything she had said. Cassiopeia stepped over to where he sat and took his hands in hers, trying to draw his eyes. "You're going to lose her if you don't do something," she said softly. That got his attention as his head snapped up to look at her. "Apollo," she continued, certain now that if she didn't get through to him, no one else would, "I was here with you when Serina died. Do you remember? I won't pretend to know what you had together because that was something between you. I only knew her a short time, but I don't think she would want you to spend your life this way. I saw how Serina made you laugh. I've seen Sheba do the same. Please don't throw it away. That would kill Sheba just as surely as a Cylon laser rifle." Apollo's eyes threatened to bore straight through her at that remark but Cassiopeia did not back down. Meeting his gaze evenly, she willed Apollo to understand what his grief was doing to Sheba. His expression softened almost imperceptibly. He just stared at her quietly for a few microns more, then, his pain clearly written on his face, pulled away from her, stood, and walked out without speaking. Cassiopeia thought she understood some of what was going through the captain's mind. Her relationship with Starbuck had certainly been rocky at times, with more than enough heartache to go around. She just hoped that Apollo would realize how much Sheba loved him. Unfortunately, it seemed to be obvious to everyone but Apollo. *************** The light from the stars overhead did nothing to comfort the solitary figure staring out of the celestial dome. Apollo had come here immediately after his encounter with Cassiopeia in the life center more than a centar ago. His mind reeling with the revelation of Sheba's pain, and his guilt over having caused it, he had sought out the solitude of the celestial dome to think. It pained him to know that he had hurt her, even more than it pained him to think about loving another woman besides Serina. He closed his eyes and began to think again about the conversation with Cassiopeia, and what had stopped him from angrily walking away. It was almost as if someone had been standing there with him, forcing him to stay and listen. He remembered now what he had quickly pushed aside in his mind before. It had been only a hint of a whisper he was too afraid to hear. Now he knew who had been beside him in the life center. As surely as she was beside him now. He felt her gentle presence, and heard again in his mind what she had said. "Please, my love, don't stop loving because it is not me there with you." Now he opened his eyes, knowing that he would not see her beside him, but knowing that she would always be with him. He also knew that he had to talk to Sheba before they let this situation get any further out of hand. Sheba, he knew, was already over on the Rising Star with Boomer, doing a launch bay inspection, and would be at the Triad game in a couple of centars. Or at least he hoped she would stay for the game. If he hurried now, he would just have time to catch Cassiopeia at the life center before she shuttled over to the Rising Star to watch him and Starbuck play. Quickly, he thumbed the control that would close the protective outer leaflet around the dome, and reached for the ear guards he would need to pass through the noisy engine compartment. Hurrying down to the hatch, he thought about what to tell Cassie. He decided just to ask her to tell Sheba to please wait for him after the game because they had something very important to discuss. That would probably have them all guessing, he thought. As he climbed down through the open hatch, Apollo stopped and looked up at the remaining stars, visible through the closing dome, one more time. "Thank-you Serina," he said to the vast expanse of the universe, "I will always love you." *************** "Sheba!" Cassiopeia shouted across the foyer and waved when the young woman looked her way. "Boomer," Sheba smiled at her companion and tugged at his elbow, "they're over here." She half pulled Lieutenant Boomer across the crowded room to get to their waiting friends. "Hi Sheba. Hi Boomer," a beaming Boxey held tightly to Cassiopeia's hand. "Hey there, Junior Warrior." Boomer scooped Boxey up and proceeded to hang him upside down over his shoulder, to the amusement of the two ladies. "Hey, put me down, or I'll make my Dad put you on long range patrol!" Boxey giggled and squirmed until Boomer jokingly extracted a promise that the young man wouldn't keep all the ladies to himself this evening. "They have the tickets for the game," Boxey said matter-of-factly. "I have to go with them." "Some guys have all the luck, " Boomer remarked wistfully. "This is one game I wish I could have gotten tickets for." Then, as if he just remembered something, Boomer added, "Hey where is Apollo, anyway? I thought he was coming over with you." "Apollo had a few things to finish up back on the Galactica," Cassie interjected. "He asked me to bring Boxey with me. I think he was coordinating the patrol schedules or something." "Well in that case, how about we get a pre-game drink?" Boomer asked. "Why don't you and Boxey go ahead, Boomer," Cassiopeia gave him a meaningful look. "Sheba and I will catch up with you in a few centons." "Sure. C'mon, Boxey," Boomer raised a questioning eyebrow at the women, then turned to the youngster and offered his hand. "How would you like to hang out with Jolly and Giles and me down in the lounge for a bit?" "Would I? Yeah!" came the enthusiastic reply. "What, pray tell, was that all about?" Sheba asked when Boxey and Boomer were out of earshot. "Sheba, we need to talk. It's about Apollo." "Is something wrong?" Sheba frowned, suddenly worried. "No, no. At least, I don't think so..." "Cassie, what is going on?" Sheba was beginning to get impatient. "I honestly don't know, Sheba. But when Apollo dropped Boxey off with me, he wanted me to ask you to wait for him after the game. He said there was something important he needed to talk to you about." Sheba's forehead creased as she tried to imagine what information the captain might need from her. "Boomer and I will make our report tomorrow. I can't think of what is so urgent about our inspection that he needs to know tonight." "Sheba, I could be wrong, but I don't think it has anything to do with your inspection," Cassiopeia said. She then proceeded to tell Sheba about her conversation with Athena, and her concerns about her brother. She also described her own conversation with the uptight captain. "He was pretty mad at me when he left the life center," she confessed. "I really touched a raw nerve. I just hope he doesn't take it out on you. I'm beginning to think that it was a bad idea for me to stick my two cubits worth in your business." "That's alright, Cass," Sheba assured her, "I can handle Apollo. He's angry with me most of the time these days anyway. What's another shouting match?" Cassiopeia felt sorry for her friend. Despite her seemingly nonchalant attitude, she could see the concern in Sheba's eyes. It was a look she had seen many times before, usually after another heated exchange with Apollo. Granted, Sheba could be as brash and impatient as her father at times, but Apollo was always equally stubborn when it came to dealing with Sheba. As they began to make their way to the lounge to find Boomer and Boxey, Cassiopeia hoped that Sheba and Apollo could find some kind of middle ground. *************** Starbuck paced the locker room wondering where his Triad partner was. It was not like Apollo to be late for anything, and the game was going to start in ten centons. Suddenly the door whooshed open and his wingmate charged through the entryway. "Well, look what the feline dragged in..." Starbuck started to laugh, but stopped when he noticed how tired Apollo looked. "Hey buddy, you look terrible. Are you feeling okay?" "Yeah," was the terse reply as Apollo hurriedly stowed his gear in his locker and began to change. "Are you sure? You have heard who Bojay's partner is tonight, haven't you?" "No," Apollo looked at him quizzically, "Isn't Jason playing?" "Jason came down sick this morning." "So who is Bojay playing with?" "Drake." Apollo paused at the mention of Captain Drake, the Yellow Squadron commander. He and Drake had been at the Academy on Caprica at the same time, Apollo a new cadet when Drake entered his graduation term. Drake was a good pilot, and commanded the respect of the men and women who flew with him, but if Apollo's temper was short, Drake's was even shorter. Not only that, but Drake had been openly, if quietly, hostile when Apollo was appointed Strike Commander of the Galactica, viewing it as a blatant act of nepotism. The two men rarely saw eye to eye. When they met on the Triad court, it was always a grueling, physical, sometimes bloody, game. "Leave it to Bojay to choose him for a partner," Apollo commented and resumed his preparations. "Oh terrific!" Starbuck threw up his hands in disgust. "It's going to be that kind of game. Look, just give it a rest tonight, would ya? I'd like to play the whole game with a partner." "Oh sure, the hothead telling me to back off," Apollo smiled. He finished dressing in silence then threw a ball to the waiting Starbuck. "Oh, hey... I just remembered something. Are we going out after the game?" Starbuck asked. "I haven't talked to Cassie or Sheba, so I don't know what they had planned." "No. I need to talk with Sheba later," Apollo replied. "Alone," he added when Starbuck raised an eyebrow, knowing that he had said too much already. "Can we get going?" "Uh... care to let your ol' wingmate in on what's going on?" Starbuck ventured. Apollo glared at him. "Apollo, I'm not a complete mindwipe. Even Boxey can see what has been happening between you two." More serious, he added, "Come on, as your friend..." "Okay," Apollo sighed. With a look of resignation, he continued. "Well, it's just that I've been thinking more about Serina lately. And before you start giving me a bunch of felgercarb about letting go of the past, that's exactly what I've been thinking about." He paused, as if unsure of how much he wanted to reveal. "It's Sheba. I love her, Starbuck. Why can't I tell her that?" Starbuck listened patiently as his best friend considered his own question before continuing. "Every time I've tried to talk to her, I just can't get the words out. You know something, Sheba told me she loved me before we left for the baseship. I just let her walk away. I couldn't deal with my feelings for her and Serina at the same time. Look, I don't mean to dump all this on you..." Starbuck had rarely seen Apollo show this kind of vulnerability, and it touched him that he trusted Starbuck enough to show it. He put his hand on his partner's shoulder. "Apollo, sometimes it just helps to talk to someone who's not involved. You've been there for me more times than I can count. I'm just glad to be able to return the favour for a change." "Starbuck, I have to talk to Sheba tonight, alone. We can't go on like this..." "I understand, buddy, " Starbuck replied, "but right now, we've got a match to win and we're going to be late." "You're right," Apollo smiled and brought his clenched fists down to hit Starbuck's. He waited for his partner to return the gesture. "Have a good one tonight, my friend. And thanks for listening." "Let's go get 'em," Starbuck slapped Apollo on the back as they strode out to the Triad court. *************** The first half of the game was not even finished yet, and things were going pretty much as Starbuck was afraid they would. He and Apollo were ahead, but not by much. Bojay was a skilled opponent, but normally not good enough to beat Starbuck and Apollo. The difference was Drake. Apollo seemed about a half a step slower tonight, and it was enough of a letdown. Drake was all over him, making it difficult for Apollo to get free for a pass. And when he did get free, Apollo usually paid for it soon after, by taking another hit. In return, he dished it out to Drake as much as he was taking it, but it didn't look like he was going to be able to keep up that pace for the whole game. Starbuck could see that the physical kind of game they were playing was beginning to take its toll on his partner, as they waited for the ball to be put back into play after their last score. Apollo was leaning over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath when Starbuck approached him. "Apollo look, why don't you try backing off and see if you can shake yourself free?" he asked. "Yeah... sure..." Apollo wheezed between gulps of air, "I'll just politely ask ... if he'll leave me alone... so I can catch the ball." "You know what I mean!" "Alright ... I'll try." The four players linked in a circle and began to spin. The ball launched onto the court, went over Drake's left shoulder and into a corner. Drake managed to break Starbuck's grip, and dove for the ball. Apollo was on him in a flash, and the two men went down hard in a tangle of arms and legs. Drake got halfway to his feet and tried to knock the ball to his partner, but Apollo slammed him into the wall and the ball went skittering towards Starbuck. The lieutenant easily scooped it off the floor, turned to fire towards the goal, and found Bojay blocking his shot. The check on Drake had given Apollo room to move, however, and now he raced across the court behind Bojay, Drake on his heels. As Bojay moved toward his man to block, Starbuck tossed a short pass under his arm, to the moving Apollo. Apollo took the pass, leaped and one-handed the ball into the goal, just before Drake crashed into him from behind, elbowing him in the ribs for good measure. Apollo turned immediately and grabbed Drake by his shoulder gear just as the claxon sounded to end the first half. "What in hades was that for?" he shouted into Drake's face as he pushed him violently into the wall. Drake was about to strike back, when Bojay and Starbuck wedged themselves between the two men. "Cool it off!" Starbuck yelled, and pushed Apollo back across the court away from Drake. The officiator's buzzer sounded and they turned to look up at the scoring table. "Apollo, roughing after the play. Penalty shot, Drake, to start the second half," was the pronouncement. "Frack!" Apollo cursed and turned away from the officiator in disgust. "So where was he looking on that hit?" Starbuck took a couple of steps toward the scoring table, and caught the two water bottles that were tossed down to him. He threw one to Apollo then sat on the floor beside his partner. "Well, that's one way to louse up a good play." Starbuck was becoming increasingly frustrated with their inability to create good scoring opportunities. "Oh, and what am I supposed to do . . ." Apollo asked angrily, "let him get away with that?" He jabbed his water bottle in Drake's general direction, then winced as a sharp pain shot through his right side. "You okay?" "No." Apollo grimaced as he examined a swollen red welt along a rib, just under the strap for his shoulder pads. "He's elbowed me there three times already and he hasn't been called once." "You know the officiator isn't going to make that call tonight, so we'd better figure out a way to score on these two." "Alright, already!" Apollo was quickly becoming irritated with Starbuck's insinuation that he wasn't trying hard enough. "I'm trying to get open but Drake plays so much clutch-and-grab, that it's hard to get away from him." "Maybe if you..." "Maybe if I what? He's got me so tied up, I can hardly manoeuvre. Why don't you just keep the ball and play Bojay one on one? He's a lot easier to get around." "Because I can't do this myself, Apollo!" Starbuck snapped back. Just then they both looked across the court to see Bojay and Drake snickering at their exchange. "Great. We're sniping at each other and they think it's funny," Starbuck commented. "Tell you what," he turned back to Apollo, "you just keep trying to get as open as you can, and I'll try to get the ball to you a bit faster so Drake can't line you up. Deal?" "Deal. I'm sorry, bucko, I've just been feeling a bit sluggish all game. I know I'm giving Drake too much time to cover to me." "Don't worry about it. New game this half. If we can create some opportunities and keep them away from our goal, the ball will start bouncing our way." With that, Starbuck stood up in anticipation of the second half. He grasped Apollo's left hand and hauled his partner to his feet. They exchanged their fists-on-fists salute to one another again, as they did at the beginning of every match, teammates to the end. When everyone was ready, the four combatants gathered to wait for the outcome of Drake's penalty shot, before squaring off again for the second half of the contest. Sheba was somewhat relieved to see Apollo and Starbuck apparently sort out their differences on the Triad court. Even from up in the gallery it was obvious they had spent most of the half time arguing with each other. At least now, it seemed they had come to some kind of agreement and were waiting for Drake's penalty shot. Sheba considered the outburst that had led to the penalty. Apollo had a temper yes, but usually on the Triad court he kept it under control. Whenever he and Drake played against each other was always an exception, but this was beginning to get violent, even for those two. Something must really be bothering Apollo to make him that edgy, she thought, and vaguely wondered how much it had to do with the meeting he had requested with her after the game. Sheba admitted to herself that she was more than a little nervous about it. For sectons Apollo had avoided her and now, suddenly, he wanted to talk? What was that supposed to mean? She wanted to hope that he had come to his senses about the feelings they had for one another, but she knew better than to make assumptions where Commander Adama's son was concerned. She had tried to avoid a misunderstanding with him by making her feelings known. Subtly at first, but when she was afraid she might never see him again, as he and Starbuck prepared for the suicidal assault on the baseship, she had decided she could not remain silent any longer. Apollo was still grieving for Serina, Sheba knew, but her fear that he really didn't want to come back alive, convinced her to move faster in their relationship than she knew he was ready for. She confessed her love for him in a private moment aboard the Cylon raider he and Starbuck would fly. She kissed him, and had been hopeful when he returned the kiss, but then she left hurriedly, afraid the spell might be broken if she remained. The truth was, she thought now, she was afraid of what his response to her overture might be. Unfortunately, since the mission, Apollo had become increasingly non-committal. He seemed to be avoiding her, and even when they did find themselves together, he was as cold as a Caprican winter. Her heart was crushed when she realized that she might have jeopardized their entire future by moving too quickly, but it was too late. "I guess I'd better get out the antiseptic and bandages for this one." Sheba was jolted back to the present by the sound of Cassiopeia's voice. "What . . .?" Sheba had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts she hadn't even noticed that the second half had started, and Drake and Apollo were at it again, fighting for possession of the ball. "Didn't you see that?" Cassiopeia was incredulous. "Drake just slammed Apollo in the corner again. He is really taking a beating tonight." "I wish they didn't play like that," Boxey's small voice came from between Sheba and Cassiopeia. He had been so quiet, they had almost forgotten he was with them. By the look on his face, he was not enjoying the game. "If they keep that up, someone's gonna get hurt," he said quietly. Sheba and Cassie exchanged silent glances that said they hoped the little boy would not turn out to be right. The sudden roar of the crowd brought their attention back to the game. Apollo had managed to twist free from the grip Drake had on his arm, and was running across the court toward the green team's unguarded goal. Starbuck saw the movement out of the corner of his eye. He faked to his left with the ball to draw Bojay, then spun back to his right, and threw the ball as hard as he could at the wall beside him. It bounced high across the court in the same direction Apollo was going. Apollo leaped, caught the ball in both hands and slammed it home, to the crowd's thunderous approval. But the move left him vulnerable. As he slid down the wall, he turned his head just in time to see Drake still coming at him at a full run. As his opponent leapt at him, he just got his right arm up in time to protect himself from a forearm to the head, but Drake's knee found its mark on the right side of his ribcage. An explosion of searing pain ripped from Apollo's shoulder down to his hip as he and Drake crashed to the ground together. The officiator's buzzer was already sounding to announce the flagrant foul against Drake, when Starbuck raced to Apollo's side. "Take it easy," he was saying, "there's no hurry, we've got a timeout." On all fours, Apollo groaned as he clutched at his side, waiting for the pain to subside. "Damn it, Starbuck," he grimaced, "I can't take much more of this." Slowly and painfully, he got to his feet and tried to stretch the numbness from his right arm. He motioned to the scoring table that he was still all right to play, and walked to the foul line to take the penalty shots he had been awarded. Sheba was on her feet, as was everyone else around her, when Apollo took the late hit from Drake. Her stomach tried to do flip-flops as she watched Apollo slowly get to his feet, in obvious pain. She glanced across at Cassiopeia, who reached over and squeezed her shoulder sympathetically. "Don't worry," Cassie said. "He'll be alright. It's nothing we won't be able to patch up later at the life center." Her words were meant for Boxey as much as Sheba. Boxey had been cheering for his Dad and Starbuck, but went immediately silent when he had seen his father hesitate before getting up. "Boxey, do you want to skip the rest of this one?" Sheba asked him. "No," he replied, looking at Sheba. "My Dad will be okay. If he's staying, I'm staying." Sheba admired his confidence in his father, but she couldn't shake the nagging thought that Drake was completely out of control. Who knew what would happen next? Sheba was not the only one to wonder if Drake had completely lost control. At first, Bojay thought it might be amusing to watch Apollo squirm when he found out that Drake was his partner's replacement tonight. Though Bojay did not exactly dislike Apollo, he didn't really like him either and he enjoyed baiting his Strike Commander whenever the occasion arose. He still thought Apollo was a pompous astrum, just as he did when they had fought over whether Cain or Adama should be leader of the fleet back at Gamoray. But this Triad game was getting just a bit out of hand. "Drake," he pulled his partner aside, "what are you doing?" "Just deflating our overblown captain a little." "Maybe you should take it easy. You're going to hurt him." "And that bothers you? I thought you wanted to see him knocked down a peg or two. Or are you worried about what your woman will think?" Drake nodded his head in Sheba's direction. "She's not my woman!" Bojay snapped back. "Just back off, okay, before you get us both into trouble." "It's a Triad game, Bojay. What are they going to do, court-martial me? Apollo knows that he is fair game, just like anyone else, when he steps on this court. There are no ranks out here. It's the only place in the fleet we can get him on a level playing field. If he's not tough enough to take it, maybe we should know that now, before he gets us into real trouble on a mission." Drake gave Bojay a meaningful look before stomping off across the court. Bojay had to admit it was true that he didn't mind seeing Apollo off-balance for a change, but he didn't want to see any real harm come to the man. After all, much as he hated to admit it, at Gamoray, Apollo had been right. Not only that, if anything serious happened to Apollo tonight, Sheba would never forgive him. And then it happened. To no one's surprise Apollo scored easily on both of his penalty shots, putting his team up by six. Time was running out, and Bojay and Drake needed to put some points on the board if they were going to catch them. On the throw-in, Bojay worked free of the circle and scooped the ball up. Starbuck was covering him closely, but he saw a way to get a pass to Drake, who was trying to get away from Apollo. As Bojay jumped up to attempt a ricochet pass off the wall, Starbuck got a hand out at the last micron, just in time to tip the ball. Apollo and Drake jumped together, both intent on catching the ball, but as it caromed off the side wall, it became clear that Apollo, who was closer, would certainly intercept the pass. Just as Apollo's hands closed on the ball, Drake drew back his arm and, twisting in midair, smashed his elbow down with his full body weight behind it, right into Apollo's face. There was a sickening crack as Apollo's head snapped back, striking the wall, and he crumpled to the floor, unconscious before he even hit the ground. Starbuck stared open-mouthed at his best friend lying face down, and very still on the floor of the Triad court, the blood streaming from his broken nose beginning to form a dark red pool around his head. The spectator's gallery, which had been cheering wildly only microns before, went deathly silent, the only sound now the officiator's buzzer, officially stopping a game that had already come crashing to a halt. "You fracking son-of-a-boray!" Enraged, Starbuck launched himself across the court at Drake, intent on killing the man with his bare hands. "Starbuck, no!" Bojay managed to grab Starbuck from behind and hold on before he could reach Drake. As he struggled to keep Starbuck under control, he managed to turn to his Triad partner, yelling to him to get away from Apollo. "Get the frack out of here now, Drake, before I let Starbuck rip you apart!" Having heard the pronouncement from the officiator that he had been suspended and the game ended, Drake turned to walk off the court, but he couldn't resist one more smile in Starbuck's direction, setting off another tirade from the lieutenant. "Come on Drake, " Sergeant Reese, from Council Security, stood in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest. "I think you've probably had enough excitement for one night." Turning to his security partner he added, "Brock, you'd better stay with these two and make sure they don't try to kill each other. Commander Adama wouldn't like it, would he?" Brock moved quickly over to Bojay and Starbuck as the door slid closed behind Reese and Drake. "Bojay, you'd better go and let me handle this, " Brock said evenly, but forcefully. Bojay slowly released Starbuck, who still looked like he wanted to kill someone, and followed the others off the court. "You should run, you fracking snitrod!" Starbuck shouted after him. He started forward as if to follow Bojay, but Brock stepped in front of him to block his way. "Starbuck, just calm down. This isn't helping Apollo." Brock saw the rage drain out of Starbuck's face as he realized no one had come yet to help Apollo. "By the Lords..." Starbuck's voice was barely above a whisper as he made his way to where the captain was still motionless on the floor. He knelt down beside his best friend and gently reached out to touch him, as if to assure himself that Apollo was still alive. He watched the ragged, uneven heaving of Apollo's chest as he obviously struggled for breath. "Where's the fracking med-techs?" Starbuck yelled at Brock, who waited behind him. Almost immediately, the door slid open again and two med-techs emerged with a stretcher. With a practiced efficiency, they flanked Apollo, quickly scanning him for vital signs and assessing his condition. "Severe concussion...respiratory distress...broken ribs here, could be internal bleeding, I can't tell," the man closest to Starbuck was listing off the scanner readings to his partner. Then to Starbuck he said, "Lieutenant, could you move over please, I need a bit of room here." Starbuck looked like he was about to belt him, when the tech turned back and met Starbuck's glare. "Don't worry, lieutenant, we'll take good care of him." Starbuck just nodded and backed away, coming to stand beside Brock. "Maybe we should leave them to work," Brock suggested. "You go if you want," Starbuck snarled at him, never taking his eyes off Apollo and the med-techs, "I'm staying right here." Then a sound above the hushed murmur of the crowd caught Starbuck's attention. Someone was calling his name. He looked up to see Sheba and Boxey, who had come down from their seats in the gallery to the edge of the railing over the court. Lords, he had forgotten they were even here. Sheba was holding tightly to Boxey, trying to keep him from looking over the railing at his father. Starbuck could see she was desperately trying to fight back her own emotions, and deal with Boxey's at the same time. The kid was obviously frightened at the sight of his father lying in a pool of blood. Sheba was shouting something to him about Cassiopeia, but he wasn't listening anymore. He couldn't take his eyes off Apollo. Things were happening so quickly now. Cassiopeia appeared in the doorway, and hurried over to help. They were fitting a cervical collar to the wounded warrior, then easing him gently onto the med-stretcher, and blocking his head in place to keep it still for the ride to the life center. Finally, the tech who had spoken to Starbuck, activated the stretcher's suspensor field and it slowly rose to a position about a metron off the floor. Starbuck took a few steps over to stand beside the stretcher. Apollo's face was covered with blood from his shattered nose, and from a large gash under his left eye. Starbuck took his friend's limp hand in his, and leaned down to speak quietly into Apollo's ear. "You take it easy, buddy, and I'll see you soon. Cassie is going to take real good care of you, so behave yourself and hang in there." He stepped back to allow the techs to guide the stretcher through the open doorway. Cassiopeia quickly came to Starbuck's side and embraced her husband. "I'm going to shuttle back with them. Why don't you get cleaned up and come back with Sheba and Boxey and Boomer?" she said gently, looking into his eyes. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and turned to leave. Starbuck caught her arm and pulled her back to him. "Cass, how bad is it?" "I don't know." She hated to see the worry in his eyes, but she couldn't lie to him either. "It doesn't look good, but we won't know more until we can do some tests back aboard the Galactica." With that, she hurried off to catch up with the medical party. Starbuck heard someone else come up behind him, and turned to see that Brock was still there. "He'll be okay, Starbuck. Dr. Salik will have him on his feet again in no time." As they walked toward the door, Starbuck gestured toward the spectators who were milling about, still hoping to get a glimpse of what happened. "I just hope these jokers got what they came for tonight," he said bitterly. *************** Darkness. And silence. He was sure it wasn't supposed to be like this. He had been somewhere. Where was it? And where was he now? Wait . . . there were voices, just murmuring really. He tried to turn his head in the direction they seemed to be coming from, but nothing happened. If he could just get his eyes to open . . . but they didn't seem to work either. What was happening? None of this was making any sense . . . . The voices were getting louder now. One of them seemed very close, just beside him. It was saying something . . . his name! Someone was calling his name. Now, as the blackness seemed to fade to a dull grey haze, he became aware of pain. A great deal of pain. A moan escaped his lips as he struggled to reach the voice that was calling to him. It was like trying to swim against one of the strong undertows they would encounter as children, body surfing at the beach near his boyhood home. It took all the concentration he could muster to focus on that voice. Now, he could feel hands on his shoulders, holding him down. Awareness came flooding back as he opened his eyes, wet with tears. A woman. He could see her blonde head over him, but couldn't quite focus enough to see who it was. What was she doing here? Something must have happened . . . . There was a burning pain in his side, and the pounding in his head was excruciating. He tried to move again, but the hands still held him, and he gave up, quickly tiring from the effort. The darkness was returning. He tried to fight it, but he was too exhausted. Finally, he let the comforting emptiness take him again. ******************* "Apollo, can you hear me?" Cassiopeia could see the captain was almost conscious. Then, with a heavy moan, he opened his eyes for a moment. He seemed to be trying to focus on her, evidently without much success, as his eyes weren't quite tracking together. She had to keep a firm grip on him to keep him from squirming off the med-stretcher. "Apollo, you've got to stay still," she said gently but firmly, and tightened her grip on his shoulders, trying to keep him on the stretcher. The technician on the other side of the med-stretcher held onto the captain's hips, carefully avoiding his injured right side. Apollo's struggling slowly abated, and he closed his eyes, lapsing into unconsciousness once more. Sighing, Cassiopeia relaxed her grip and checked his life signs again. Satisfied for the moment, she glanced up at the two med-techs who had been assigned to the Triad game, and who had treated Apollo on the floor. "Let me know if he comes around again," Cassie told them, "I'm going to go up front." "Sure thing, Cass," one of them replied. Cassiopeia made her way up to the front of the shuttle to where Brie and another young pilot were sitting. "How much longer until we reach the Galactica?" she asked Brie, who was piloting the shuttle. "It'll be another seven or eight centons," Brie replied. "When we are within a centon of the landing bay, they'll hold all the other traffic for us, so we should have immediate landing clearance. How is the skipper doing?" Brie used the familiar name the pilots of Blue squadron reserved for their squadron commander. Jolly had been the one to start calling Apollo "skipper", and it just sort of stuck. "He was conscious for a couple of microns. At this point that's a good sign." "Good," Brie replied. "We were watching the game on the monitor. It sure didn't look good there, for a centon. I guess Captain Apollo will be pretty mad at Captain Drake, when he wakes up. I wouldn't want to be in Drake's boots for all the cubits in the fleet." No, I don't think I would want to be either, Cassiopeia thought, hoping that Apollo would wake up again soon. She knew from her training that the longer he stayed unconscious, the worse it could be for him. As she made her way back to the others, she began to realize how tense she was. She checked on Apollo once more before sitting down. Closing her eyes, Cassiopeia began to practice one of the many relaxation techniques she had learned back on Gemon. It never got any easier, she thought. No matter how many times she treated patients, when it was someone she knew, her stomach lurched. Seeing Apollo helpless and in pain tore at her heart, no matter how much she tried to maintain her professional demeanor. Her mind leapt at the thought she tried to stop: it could just as easily be Starbuck. Dear God, she hadn't wanted to think that, but couldn't help it. She could feel the angle of the shuttle change as it began its final approach to the Galactica. At least her mind would soon be busy with what she suspected would be an upcoming surgery. Even though she was not on duty, she didn't think she would have any trouble convincing Dr. Salik that she should be on the surgical team. Salik was a good man, if a bit gruff, and a fine doctor. She had learned a great deal from him in the last yahren, and had seriously considered his suggestion that she continue her medical training to become a doctor herself. The Galactica's team of medical doctors, Salik, Paye, and Evans, had been consulting with other physicians in the fleet to develop a curriculum to train new medical personnel, and the first class of physicians was scheduled to begin in another few sectars. Applications were just beginning to trickle in. Interviews with potential candidates would take place in another four to six sectons. Salik had remarked to Cassiopeia, more than once, that her compassion for the patients was equalled only by the skill she possessed as a med-tech. At first, she thought he was merely being kind, then he began to assign her to a number of different units throughout the life center. There had been surgery, internal medicine, family medicine, geriatric management, and others. One of her most difficult rotations had been the burn unit. While assigned there, Cassiopeia had worked with a number of children from the orphan ship who had been injured in one of the Cylon attacks on the fleet. So young to have experienced so much pain already, she thought as she remembered her experience. Even battle-hardened veterans like Starbuck, Apollo, and Boomer had been moved to tears when she asked them to visit with the children. As the shuttle angled into the landing bay and gently bumped down, Cassiopeia glanced once more at Apollo, wishing she already had the benefit of the advanced medical training. Her life had been such a whirlwind of changes since the battle against the baseship, she hadn't even talked to Starbuck about it yet. She was not sure he would welcome the idea of her spending even more time in the life center, not to mention the centars of study. She would have to make a decision soon, but for now, she had work to do. ********************** Commander Adama leaned back from his desk and rubbed his eyes. The call from Colonel Tigh had come some centons ago. Apollo was being rushed back to the Galactica aboard a medical shuttle, a casualty of the Triad game. Tigh had sounded furious when he called. Adama knew that his second-in-command was a great supporter of the games, having been a pretty fair player in his youth, but tonight he had condemned the officiators, the crowd, and most of all, Captain Drake for his play. Adama had not watched the game, he had other duties, but from Tigh's description, the Yellow squadron commander had blatantly fouled his son. A clear attempt to injure, Tigh had called it. Adama sighed, rose from the chair, and wandered over to look out the oval porthole set high on the wall of the compartment. It wasn't really a window, but a projection screen showing a real-time view from one of the exterior cameras on the Galactica. Naturally, the quarters of the Commander of the Galactica would never be located so close to the surface of the ship. The clarity of the projection, however, made it seem as real as looking out of a window. As he gazed at the stars, Adama wondered if he would ever get used to the death that constantly surrounded them. He had sent Apollo and Starbuck on more dangerous missions than he could remember; and not only them, but the other warriors as well, some of whom he barely knew. It didn't make the pain of another death or injury any less. Now he felt the same queasiness in the pit of his stomach that he felt whenever his only remaining son was overdue on a patrol or a mission. Again, he would have to deal with the emotions and guilt that surfaced every time one of his children was hurting. As a father, he always felt that he should be able to protect them, Apollo, Athena, and Zac. Zac, he hadn't been able to protect. Neither had Apollo, and it had taken his eldest son a long time to get over the guilt he had felt for leaving his brother to warn the fleet. That was, if Apollo had really ever come to terms with his guilt. Now, another injury. Tigh explained that Drake had knocked Apollo unconscious during the game. During a blasted game, for Sagan's sake. Not even a battle or a high risk mission, but a fracking game. How many times had he sat by his son's bedside, wishing he could change what had happened? How many more times would he have to wait, wondering if his firstborn would recover or be forever embraced by the outstretched arms of death? At times like these, while Adama wished fervently that Ila could still be with him to help him shoulder the burdens of parenthood, he was equally glad that she had been spared the worry and heartache. Adama knew that many looked up to him for guidance and leadership. He commanded respect wherever he went within the fleet, but how many knew about the man within, who died a little each time his family was assaulted? Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, the Commander of the Galactica did not have the luxury of a more public display of the despair and helplessness he often felt. Those were emotions he had to keep to himself, or at least to his closest friends and family. Even then, as the family patriarch, he was still expected to be the pillar of strength. Sometimes it almost seemed like too much responsibility, but there was no one else to whom he could abdicate. So he did his best and hoped it was enough. Then Adama's expression changed ever so slightly and he was transformed once more into the steeled commander. He knew that Athena would likely be waiting in the life center for her brother's arrival. She had called him just shortly after Colonel Tigh. His daughter had sounded quite upset and Adama wanted to be there with her when Apollo arrived. Perhaps he was doing enough for his children, after all. Simply by being available when they needed to talk, or by comforting them when he could, or simply by sharing their experiences, the joys as well as the sorrows. In spite of all the challenges of the past yahren, they had some wonderful new memories. Finally, Adama walked to the entrance to his quarters. He paused, extinguishing the lights. In the darkness he said a silent prayer to the Lords of Kobol for the strength to deal with this newest crisis. ********************** Sheba paced the waiting area of the life center like a captive panthera. By her reckoning, it had been nearly two centars since Athena had seen them take Apollo inside the compartment for surgery. Her brow furrowed as she wondered again how long this sort of thing should take. As she turned and began to walk back toward where the others were seated, she noticed Starbuck fidgeting like an itchy daggit. When she got closer, she could see that he had managed to find a loose thread in the cuff of his flight jacket and was absent-mindedly pulling at it. Beside him, Athena couldn't stand it anymore. She grabbed his arm, grasped the thread and broke it off. "There. Leave it alone," she barked at him. Sheba stopped her pacing when she thought Starbuck was about to say something back to Athena. Instead he just sighed, leaning forward to rest his chin in his hands, elbows on his knees. They were all more than just a little tense. Athena was merely the first to demonstrate it so openly. Sheba resumed her trek. When Dr. Salik finally emerged from the entrance to the surgical suite, she was the first to reach him. Dr. Salik met her imploring stare evenly, no hint of emotion on his impartial, medical stoneface. "Doctor, how is my son?" Adama, close behind Sheba, was the only one able to ask the question they were all contemplating. "He is a very lucky young man," Salik said emphatically. "By the grace of God there was no skull fracture. He has a very severe concussion. His nose was broken but that was fairly easily repaired. He also had some broken ribs and internal bleeding from the blows he received to the chest, but we were able to repair that as well. This time." Salik's gaze fixed on his commander as he continued, "Something has to be done to make these Triad players understand they are not invincible. We are . . ." he gathered himself into an indignant huff, searching for the word he wanted, ". . . wasting valuable resources putting these boys back together. They shouldn't be breaking each other into pieces playing a . . . a game!" Dr. Salik was as angry as Commander Adama had ever seen him. The Commander had read the previous secton's report from the Galactica's chief medical officer, and knew that the doctor was concerned about the increasing severity of injuries the Triad games were causing. In the report, Salik had warned that it was only a matter of time before a tragedy would occur. It seemed to Adama that they had now received their last warning. "Doctor, I am aware of your concerns, and I assure you they will be addressed, but I do not believe this is the time or the place." Adama's voice was calm, but the unmistakable tone of authority and the steady glare from those steely grey eyes reminded Salik that the commander of the fleet was a father as well. And he was cautioning the doctor that at this moment he was first, and foremost, a father. "I'm sorry, Commander," Salik's voice softened as he realized that he had overstepped his bounds. "You are right. Captain Apollo is resting comfortably." Salik pointed to a door to his right where Apollo had been taken. "His brain scans indicate that there is no permanent damage and he should make a complete recovery. He is still unconscious, however, and we really do not have any indication as to when he might wake up. When he does, he may experience some lingering symptoms." "What kind of symptoms?" Sheba's voice was apprehensive. "Confusion, short-term memory loss, visual disturbances, nausea, irritability . . . . He may experience some of these symptoms, all of them, or none. We won't know until he regains consciousness, but it should all clear up with time." "Can we see him now?" Adama the father would not be placated until he saw his son with his own eyes. Salik considered a moment before answering. Apollo needed rest and he would rather that no one disturbed him, but he knew from experience, that was an unlikely possibility. "Family only," he decided. "Very well," Adama replied, and proceeded to usher Athena, Starbuck, and Sheba ahead of himself into the room Salik had indicated. Knowing it was useless to argue with the Commander, Salik just shook his head in resignation and followed them into the recovery room. "Dear Lord . . ." Athena's voice caught in her throat and she stopped short when she saw her brother. He was in a half-sitting position in the med-bed. Cassiopeia was beside him, adjusting the intravenous line in his right hand, and trying to make him comfortable. A cervical collar and a combination of padding and strapping had been arranged to keep his upper body immobile. His nose was swollen and bruised and his left eye was swollen shut, the dressing underneath it showing a thin line of red where the blood had seeped through from cut underneath. Both eyes were almost ringed by bruises that were just now beginning to turn an ugly blue colour, reminding Athena of the furry little procyonids that used to try to climb into the trash receptacles back on Caprica, looking for tasty tidbits discarded with the garbage. Athena had been on-duty on the bridge and had not seen the Triad game. A number of the bridge officers, including Omega, had been keeping tabs on the action. Omega was the one who had told her that it was Apollo being rushed to the Galactica aboard the medical shuttle. At first, she didn't quite comprehend the seriousness of the situation, but the tone of Omega's voice and the look he had given her had unnerved her. Athena had only heard about the events leading to Apollo's injury second-hand, from Sheba and Starbuck. Now, Adama moved to stand close behind his daughter, grasping her shoulders in an attempt to reassure her, and himself as well. Sheba moved past father and daughter to Apollo's left, reached under the blanket covering him, and gently took his hand in hers, never taking her eyes from his face. "Apollo, I don't know if you can hear me," she began as she knelt down beside him, "but we're all here for you. Your father, Athena, Starbuck and me . . . " Tears rimmed Sheba's deep brown eyes and began to course down her cheeks, slowly at first, then freely as she tried to blink them away. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and looked back to see her own apprehension mirrored on Starbuck's face. She turned back to the man she had been unlucky enough to fall in love with, no sign of awareness at all from him. Letting out a breath she had not realized she had been holding, Sheba reluctantly placed Apollo's hand back beneath the cover, and moved back to allow the Commander to approach his son. Adama leaned close to his firstborn and spoke quietly, "Son, I love you very much. Rest now, and come back to us soon." Athena had gone around to the other side of the med-bed. Now, she rested her hand on Apollo's shoulder as she bent over him and softly kissed his cheek. "I love you, big brother . . ." was all she could get out before her tears choked off anything else she might have said. "What he needs now, is to rest," Salik insisted. "We will let you know the moment anything changes." "Yes, Dr. Salik is right," Adama agreed. "Doctor, you will contact me immediately if anything happens." It was an order, not a request. Adama felt weary as he turned to leave, watching the others file out ahead of him. A final glance back at his son, with Dr. Salik and Cassiopeia hovering over him, assured the Commander that Apollo would be well attended. When the door slid closed behind him, he felt the weight of three pairs of eyes on him. What could he say to his daughter, to Starbuck, his son's best friend, and to Sheba, to make them feel better? He didn't even know what to say to himself, but somehow, because of his age and experience, it was expected of him to be the strong one. It was a role he filled, more often than not, he realized, because he didn't know what else to do. "Now, now," Adama smiled at the morose faces around him. "Apollo has the best people looking after him, and Dr. Salik said he will be fine. I don't think he would be very happy to find out that we were worrying so much about him. If I hear something from Salik, I will contact each of you immediately. Now, where is Boxey? I'm sure he is worried sick about his father." "We've taken care of that, sir," Starbuck spoke up. "Boomer took him down to Blue squadron's billet. He'll stay with us tonight, if that's alright." "That would be fine, Starbuck, thank-you." He raised a quizzical eyebrow at the lieutenant, knowing that he and Cassiopeia had recently taken up residence in the family quarters. "I'm just taking an extra bunk for tonight, to stay with Boxey, sir," Starbuck responded to the unspoken question. "Cassiopeia is probably going to be here all night, anyway. This is the one time I don't think my considerable charm will lure her away," he joked. "Very well, then. I think we would all be better served to get some sleep. Athena, do you feel up to finishing your duties on the bridge?" "Yes, father," Athena replied. "I think I'd like to have something to keep me busy, just now." "Then you and Starbuck go ahead. I will be back in my quarters in about thirty centons. Perhaps you could bring Boxey by before he goes to sleep." Sensing they had been dismissed, Starbuck and Athena left the Commander alone with Sheba. The official visage of Commander Adama melted, once again, into that of just a father. At a momentary loss for words on seeing Sheba's tear-streaked face, he gathered her into an embrace. Sheba's tenuous grip on her emotions finally slipped and she could hold back no longer. As Adama held her, she began to sob uncontrollably. He guided her to a nearby bench and they sat, her body heaving and shaking, unleashing a torrent of raw emotion that had been bottled-up for sectons. They stayed that way for several centons, until Sheba began to relax, spent for now, with the release of anxiety. Adama thought back to the times that he had held Athena this way, as a little girl. He couldn't help wondering if Cain had ever done the same for Sheba, or if he had left the emotional complexities of raising a daughter to his wife, Bethany. Cain was not one to show much emotion at any time, preferring to keep the facade of the steeled warrior intact. It seemed to suit Cain, but Adama never could deny the emotion he felt. He could suppress it for awhile, if need be, but he always had to deal with it sooner or later, unknown to most except for his family and closest friends. At the moment, it felt good to comfort Sheba, who did not have the advantage of having her own family near. "Better, now?" Adama pulled back and smiled at the young woman who was like an adopted daughter to him. "I'm sorry," Sheba sniffled, wiping her eyes, "I hadn't intended to soak you." "Oh, that's alright. What's a few tears between friends?" "This is just not something I'm used to, Commander. I'm scared for him." "And maybe a bit for yourself, as well?" Adama went straight to the heart of the matter he knew was troubling Sheba. "You certainly have a way of cutting through the felgercarb, sir," she sniffled and smiled self-consciously. "Sheba, listen to me. I know my son has not been very forthcoming with you recently. I also know that he has been trying very hard to sort things out for himself, in regard to you and the place Serina once had in his life. I don't know exactly where things stand between the two of you right now, but I do know that he cares for you a great deal." "I wish I was as confident about that as you are, Commander. Apollo wanted to talk to me after the Triad game tonight," Sheba remembered wistfully. "He said it was about something important, but I just don't know what he wants or where I stand. And now, part of me is afraid I'll never know." "Apollo will be fine. You two will probably have a lot of time to discuss things while he is recovering." "Commander, I need to tell you something," Sheba looked down at her hands and waited until she gathered the courage to continue. She had wanted to tell Apollo this, but was afraid of what his response would be. Of all the people on the Galactica, Cassiopeia was probably the only person who knew exactly what she was going through, and the Lords knew how many times they had discussed this. Now Sheba felt it was right that the man who had welcomed her into his family with open arms should know exactly how she felt about his son. Raising her eyes to meet Adama's gaze, she continued, "I love Apollo with all my heart. I have never felt this way about anyone before, but I don't know how much more waiting I can take. If he can't let go of Serina, I don't see that I even stand a chance." Adama considered this admission for a moment. He had noticed the deepening of the relationship between his son and Cain's daughter. He was pleased that Sheba had the courage to challenge Apollo, knowing what his son had been through. If any woman could melt the ice surrounding his son's heart, Sheba alone would have the perseverance to do it. Looking directly into her eyes, he spoke honestly, "Sheba, you are a woman any father would be proud to call his daughter, and I feel very privileged to have you here with us. I believe that Apollo loves you very much. I also believe that my son realizes how fortunate he is to have you in his life. You have been patient with him, and more. I hope that you will at least wait until you find out what he had to say, before you make any decisions regarding your future together. And know this, my dear, whatever happens between you and Apollo, you are as much a part of this family as he is." "Thank-you, Adama, that means a lot to me," Sheba whispered in his ear as she embraced him. Reluctantly, she released him, then glanced at her chronometer and said, "I had better let you go to your quarters, if Starbuck is bringing Boxey to see you." "Yes, I'm afraid you are right." They rose and walked together to the main entrance of the life center. "Don't worry, Sheba," the commander told her. When you get to be my age, you will realize that these things have a way working out." ********************** Sheba walked down the long corridor leading to the female warriors' quarters. Though the number of male warriors still far outnumbered the women, their ranks were increasing and soon they would outgrow this section of the ship. The women from Silver Spar and Blue squadrons shared a compartment since they also shared duty cycles aboard the Galactica. Sheba opened the door and stepped inside. Dietra and Brie were the only ones there. They were sitting on one of the bunks talking, but stopped when they saw Sheba. Dietra and Sheba's eyes met for a moment, then Sheba looked away. Immediately, Dietra jumped down from the bunk, walked over to Sheba and embraced her. She and Sheba had talked at length about the Triad games. Like Sheba, Dietra also had first hand knowledge of the punishment the combatants sometimes took, through her deepening relationship with Boomer. "You don't have to say anything, girl," Dietra told her, "I saw the game, I know how it is." "Thanks, Dietra," Sheba replied. She pulled away from her friend and went to her bunk. "I think I just want to try to get some sleep. I have to go on patrol in another six centars." "With who?" Brie asked, concerned since she was well aware that Bojay was Sheba's wingman. Surely she must be furious with him, right about now. "Bojay, who else?" Sheba snapped, annoyed at the question. "Hey, take it easy," Dietra interjected. "I have to agree with Brie... are you sure you want to be flying with him after tonight?" Sheba fixed her gaze directly on her friend. "Look, Bojay may be able to find himself a dirty Triad partner to do what he hasn't the guts to do himself, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let him get in the way of my responsibility to the fleet. He had just better be ready for the patrol duty from Hades, because he is going to get it." Even Sheba was surprised by the venom she felt for Bojay. Until recently, she had been as close to Bojay as anyone. They had been wingmates for over four yahrens, and had learned to anticipate each other's moves and thoughts. That closeness had kept them both alive in their numerous strikes against the Cylons. Since Sheba had begun to show a romantic interest in Apollo, though, Bojay had become more and more distant. Bojay's constant grumbling about his new strike commander had begun to grate on Sheba's nerves, until they spent less and less time together. Now the tension between them had come to a head, and it would have to be dealt with. It seemed as though it was going to be an interesting patrol, indeed. ********************** Commander Adama waited in his quarters for the arrival of his grandson. He rubbed tired eyes as he tried to focus on the computer screen in front of him. Then, giving up, he leaned back in his chair, fingertips steepled in front of him, thinking. Ila had always known that something was troubling her husband when he assumed that posture. His children recognized it as well. Since they had fled from the colonies, when Adama was like this, it usually meant he was mulling over equally distasteful options for their survival, and he was about to come to a decision he didn't like. Unfortunately, his position dictated that he make difficult decisions concerning the lives of the warriors under his command. Tonight, his responsibilities weighed heavily on his mind. His responsibilities to the fleet had always taken precedence over his responsibilities to his family, often requiring him to put his children's lives in danger, especially Apollo's, for the sake of the people they had sworn to protect. This, though, this was different. In one sense, he agreed with Salik, the Triad games had been getting rougher lately. It was as though all that aggression normally directed against the Cylons was being released in another arena. In this case, however, there was more to it than that. As the fleet's Commander, he had been aware of the subtle power struggle developing between Apollo and Captain Drake. Truthfully, Apollo was the best man on the Galactica for the position of Strike Commander, and had been for some time, but Adama knew that Drake would never accept it. He had discussed this with Apollo on more than one occasion. Apollo had insisted that it was his problem to deal with and Adama had agreed. Now, he wondered if he had made the right decision. The Commander's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door chime. Knowing it would be Starbuck and Boxey, Adama rose from the behind the desk to go meet his grandson. He pressed the door's release and was met by Starbuck, Boxey, and the ever-present Muffit. Boxey's solemn, tear-streaked face was barely visible under a mop of long, sandy-colored hair, as the boy continued look at the floor. Starbuck looked pleadingly at the Commander as they made their way into Adama's quarters. "We've been trying to tell Boxey that his Dad will be okay . . . " Starbuck trailed off, not knowing what else to say. Boxey looked up quickly, first at Starbuck, then at Adama. "Grandfather, they won't let me see my Dad!" he yelled, still very upset. The little boy turned to Starbuck and punched him in the leg. "Why won't you let me see him?" he cried, the tears starting anew. Adama was surprised at Boxey's vehemence toward Starbuck, then understood as Boxey shouted, "He's dead, isn't he? Just like my Mom, and you won't let me see him!" Starbuck answered the boy before Adama could speak. "Lords of Kobol, is that what you've been thinking?" Starbuck asked, shocked, as he knelt down to face his best friend's son. "He's in the life center kiddo, very much alive. Cassiopeia and Dr. Salik are looking after him right now." "Then why won't you take me there? I want to see him," Boxey asked between sobs. Starbuck looked up to the Commander for help. Adama bent down to lift his grandson up. "Boxey," he began, "your father was hurt in the Triad game, but Dr. Salik says he is going to be fine. Right now he just needs to rest, and he can do that better if he is not disturbed. I promise you that I will take you to see him when he is feeling a little better." The little boy began to calm down, relaxing a bit in his grandfather's arms. "Promise?" Boxey asked, absently fingering the medallion on the front of Adama's uniform. "Yes, I do. And the Commander never breaks his promises, does he?" "No sir." A hint of a smile was almost visible on Boxey's face. Looking at the distressed little boy in his arms, the ranking officer on the Galactica quickly made a command decision. "Would you and Muffit like to spend the night here with me?" "Yes, Grandfather." Relief was written on Starbuck's face. He wasn't sure how he was going to handle Boxey tonight. "Very well, then. Why don't you say goodnight to Starbuck?" Boxey turned toward Starbuck and leaned out to him as Starbuck reached to take him from Adama. Boxey returned the lieutenant's hug. "Goodnight Starbuck," he said. "I'm sorry I hit you." "Don't worry about it kid. Just don't sic Muffit on me, okay?" "Okay." This time Boxey did smile. Starbuck let him down, then started to leave. "Goodnight Commander," he said. "I, uh . . . I . . ." Starbuck wanted to say something reassuring to his best friend's father, but he just couldn't find the words. "Thank-you, Starbuck," Adama clasped Starbuck's forearm with his own. "I appreciate all you've done for us, and I think it is just as well that Boxey stay here tonight." After Starbuck had gone, he turned back to Boxey. "Well, if you and Muffit are ready for sleep period, perhaps I could tell you a story about Earth. Would you like that?" Adama asked, knowing that Boxey's favorite stories were about the lost Thirteenth Tribe of Kobol. "Yes sir," Boxey smiled, then, more seriously, "My Dad really is okay, right?" "He will be fine, son. Don't you worry about your father. You know how much he loves you, and he won't want to be away from you for long." That seemed to satisfy Boxey, and he ran with Muffit into the next room where his Grandfather's big bed was. Adama was continually amazed and thankful for the bond that had developed between Boxey and his son. Truly, it was as though Apollo really was the boy's father, although they had not even been together for a whole yahren yet. If anything were strong enough to pull Apollo back from the abyss he was in now, it would be his love for Boxey. And his love for Sheba. Adama knew that his son cared more for the young woman than he would even admit to himself. He just hoped, as Sheba did, that Apollo would realize it before it was too late. ********************** "Apollo?" The voice seemed to be coming from very far away. He opened his eyes and immediately closed them again, regretting even that small movement. His head was pounding so hard, he was sure that even his eyelashes must have a headache. "Apollo, how do you feel?" The voice was not going to leave him alone, he could tell, and he was going to have to open his eyes again sooner or later, anyway. He opened them and waited patiently until they focused on the face that hovered over him. The concern in the eyes that gazed down into his nearly took his breath away. He couldn't help the smile that played at the corners of his lips, at the welcoming sight of the woman he loved. She was beautiful, even with the lines of worry that traced her brow. She was concerned about him, he knew, and that only made him love her all the more. Her long brown hair was swept back over her neck as she leaned over him, but even so, thin wisps escaped to fall down and tickle his chest where they touched him. "I'm glad to see you back with us," she smiled. "For awhile, I was wondering when you were going to decide come back." He was about to open his mouth to speak but she put her fingers on his lips to silence him. "Just stay still and rest for now," she said. Then, seeing the question in his eyes, she continued, "They brought you back here when I convinced them you would rest better in your own quarters." He did want to rest. He could feel the soreness in his body, and the ache in his head was wearing on him, but he needed to speak to her now. "Serina . . ." he reached for his wife's hand. She was lying in their bed beside him, propped up on one elbow, looking down into his face. "Shhh," she admonished him. "I said rest, now. There will be plenty of time to talk later." Serina absently ran her fingers the length of his breastbone, and leaned toward him to kiss him tenderly. "I promise," she added, and smiled lovingly. Apollo's eyes closed once more as he found he was too exhausted to argue. As his beloved wife lay down next to him, he could feel her warm, moist breath on his shoulder, and the darkness came to take him again. ********************** Sheba awoke to the chiming of her chronometer in her ear. Shutting it off, she stretched wearily, the tension of the previous night still knotting the muscles in her neck and shoulders. Probably nothing compared to what Apollo will feel, she thought. If she hurried, she would have enough time to grab a quick bite from the officers' mess and check on Apollo before she had to be down in the bay to run a pre-launch check on her viper. She dressed quickly in the dark room and made her way silently out the door. She had to squint against the brighter light of the corridor as she strode toward the mess hall. It was deserted at this hour except for the staff. She helped herself to a sandwich and java, then made her way to the lift. It took her only a couple of centons to get to the life center. Entering the large main bay, Sheba noted how empty it seemed. There were only a handful of medical technicians on duty, so it was easy to spot Dr. Salik. He and Dr. Paye were conversing at the central monitor bank when Salik looked up and saw her. He excused himself and made his way over to the lieutenant. "Good morning, Sheba," he said. "You're awake early." "I'm have a patrol in fifteen centons. I just wanted to check on Captain Apollo before I left," Sheba tried to keep her interest at a professional level. "Mm-hmm," Salik smiled at her, not fooled for a micron. "I don't suppose you would want to look in on him personally, would you?" "Well, yes I . . .," Sheba faltered, and looked away from the doctor. "Come on," he grinned and took Sheba by the arm, guiding her toward Apollo's room. "I'm afraid his condition hasn't changed, so we are going to leave him in a private compartment to keep things a little quieter." Salik touched the door release and directed Sheba into the room with a promise to be nearby if she needed him. Sheba slowly stepped toward the still form in the middle of the small room and sat on the edge of the med-bed. So, it was not just a bad dream. It had all really happened. The scene of Apollo and Drake jumping for the Triad ball slowly replayed itself in her mind's eye. Drake twisting . . . Apollo's head snapping back . . . the two of them falling to the floor in a heap . . . Drake rising . . . Apollo not moving . . . blood everywhere. Somehow, Sheba had held the smallest hope that when she woke up, this would all have turned out to be just a dream and Apollo would be fine. As she watched the quiet breathing of the man she loved, Sheba began to feel angry. How dare Bojay pull such a stunt? He had asked Drake to replace his regular Triad partner on purpose. She knew Bojay was well aware of the animosity Drake held for Apollo. Drake certainly had never made much of an attempt to conceal it. She was also angry with herself. She had ignored the situation between herself, Bojay and Apollo, hoping it would dissipate on its own. She should have known better. She had to find out just what was bothering Bojay. And then she would kill him, or at least give him the tongue-lashing he had coming to him. A slight movement beside her brought Sheba back from her musings. Had Apollo moved? There it was, his eyelids fluttered ever so slightly. Then his eyes opened. Sheba leaned over him so she could look into his face. His eyes were open but they looked hazy and unfocused, as though he was dreaming. "Serina," a single word passed Apollo's dry, chapped lips, softly before his eyes closed again. Sheba's heart almost stopped. Serina. Apollo was calling for his dead wife. Sheba's mouth went dry. What if he didn't remember her? What if he woke up and expected Serina to be there? Sheba had not been prepared for this. The door slid open and Dr. Salik charged into the room. "Did he wake up a micron ago?" Salik demanded, all business. "He opened his eyes, but he didn't really seem to be awake. How did you know?" Sheba replied, still in shock. "His brain scan spiked on the monitor for a moment. What do you mean, he didn't seem awake?" "He . . . he called for Serina," she said quietly. Salik didn't reply. Instead he shooed Sheba out of the way and began to check the captain for any signs that he might still be close enough to consciousness to wake him. Sheba felt a sudden urge to get as far away from Apollo as she could. She left the life center, suddenly thankful for the patrol demanding her time. Serina. He had asked for Serina. She couldn't get that thought out of her head. How was she supposed to fly straight, knowing that? ********************** This was not a patrol Bojay was looking forward to. Usually he welcomed the chance to get off the Galactica and fly under his own control. This time, it was different. He had spoken to Dietra, or rather, Dietra had pointedly told him that Sheba was as angry as a wounded boray. When Sheba had come down to the launch bay, she had barely spoken to him. Now, as they waited for launch clearance, he wondered if he should make her launch first. The truth was, Bojay wasn't sure it would be a good idea for him to be in front of Sheba, just in case she decided to turn on her targeting scanner. "Core command to probe craft, you are cleared to launch when ready," a familiar voice broke through the tension. "Probe one, copy; launching." The sound of Bojay's turbos in the launch tube drowned out what he assumed was Sheba's reply to the Galactica bridge. As he rolled his viper over to come to the heading for their probe, Bojay cut back his engines to allow Sheba to come up alongside him. Her ship squared up in tight formation beside him in microns. Bojay could see her viper, not more than five metrons from his own, and Sheba staring straight ahead along their vector. The consummate professional, he thought, she must be really sore if she won't even look at me. Enough was enough, however. They still had a mission to take care of. "Captain Bojay to Lieutenant Sheba," he said, "everything all right over there, lieutenant?" "Everything is fine . . . Captain Bojay," was the icy reply. Bojay winced when he heard the clipped tone of Sheba's voice. He had only seen her this angry once. A new lieutenant who had transferred to the Pegasus had been assigned to Silver Spar squadron. Ares was a good pilot, but had a tendency to talk a bit too much when he drank. And he made the fatal mistake of crossing Sheba. One night in the officers' club, after a particularly successful strike mission, Lieutenant Ares had rather acutely and loudly aired his opinion concerning the role of women as viper pilots. At his suggestion that the fairer sex was suited for much better pursuits, Sheba had slammed her tankard down, and before the doomed pilot could react, she reached toward him, under and across the table. The inebriated lieutenant had tried to squirm away from her, but any move he made only worsened the sudden pain he found himself in. Sheba only let him free after extracting his solemn vow that he would just keep his mouth shut and fly. As Bojay remembered, it was sectons before the man could walk normally again, and he did not want to find himself in the same position with Sheba, literally or figuratively. They had been wingmates and friends too long for that. The problem was, even though Bojay understood why Sheba was angry, he really didn't feel responsible. Sure, he had asked Drake to replace his regular Triad partner, who was sick. Knowing he was playing against Starbuck and Apollo, was he supposed to ask someone who was not as good, but who would go easy on Apollo? That Apollo and Drake disliked each other was not his problem. Drake was the one who had hit Apollo, not him. The more he thought about it, the more Bojay felt like the innocent victim of an unfortunate incident. Sure, he didn't want to see Apollo get hurt, but that was a part of the game that they all lived with. So where did Sheba get off blaming him for what had happened? Bojay was beginning to feel as angry about the whole situation as Sheba seemed to be. He reached out and thumbed the switch for the private com between their vipers. "Sheba," he said abruptly, "we have to talk. Now." "You bet we do," she responded in kind. "Good. Now, what are you so hot under the collar about?" That was it. Sheba had been ready to explode from the moment she saw Bojay in the launch bay, and he had just provided the ignition source for her solium. "What am I hot . . . ?!" she spluttered. Recovering from her momentary loss for words, she yelled into the com, "What in Hades did you think you were doing, you . . . slimy gutter worm! How dare you ask me that? Don't you have any idea what you've done?" "What I've done?" Bojay was incredulous. "What do you mean, 'what I've done'? I went out and played a game of Triad; cleanly, I might add. Apollo can't even say that about the way he played last night." "You can't be serious . . ." Sheba couldn't believe what she was hearing, and from a man she had thought was one of her closest friends. "Of course I'm serious. Did you happen to notice who was taking the penalties out there? It wasn't me." Sheba waited before speaking again. For one thing, she was just too angry. For another, something was wrong. This was not like the Bojay she had always known. Her Bojay cared about other people, he wasn't hurtful like this, and especially not to her. There was more to this than she knew, maybe more than Bojay even realized. She had to find out what was going on with him. "Bojay, you didn't even bother to ask me how Apollo is doing," she said a little more calmly. "I heard that Dr. Salik said he would be okay. What is the big deal?" "If you had bothered to check or to ask, you would know that he is still unconscious." Unseen, across from Sheba, Bojay looked toward his wingmate, surprised. He hadn't known that. "Dr. Salik said that based on his brain scan, there is no permanent damage and that he should recover, but he has no idea when Apollo will regain consciousness. And there is a little boy back on the Galactica who doesn't understand why one of the men his Dad works with everyday, tried to kill him." "Isn't that being a bit dramatic?" Bojay asked, no longer so sure that Drake wouldn't like to take out their squadron commander permanently, if given the right opportunity. "Is it?" Sheba asked pointedly. "Maybe you're right," Bojay sighed. "Look, I'm sorry Apollo got hurt, but what do you want me to do about it?" "What about Drake?" "Drake? He was suspended for the rest of the season by the league discipline committee." "That's it?" Sheba could hardly believe that was the only action that would be taken. "Yeah, that's pretty severe. No one has been suspended for the entire season before. At least, not since the colonies." "I would have thought that the Commander or Colonel Tigh might have something to say about that." "What are they going to say?" Bojay asked. "This isn't a military matter. You can't go making it illegal to play Triad against a superior officer. And not everyone in the league is in the military, anyway. What kind of competition could you have if everyone was afraid of being court-martialed for playing too hard against a superior officer on the Triad court? Adama and Tigh can't touch that if they don't want to destroy the league. And there would be a lot of irate fleet citizens if that happened." "That doesn't excuse what Drake did to Apollo," Sheba spat out. "I guess not," Bojay was getting tired of talking about Apollo. They flew in silence for the next while, logging their scanner activity, or rather, the lack of activity. At least we seem to have lost the Cylons for now, Bojay thought. One less enemy for awhile, anyway. In spite of himself, his thoughts turned to his strike commander again. And Sheba. He supposed the reason he thought of Apollo as an enemy of sorts, was that Sheba spent so much time and energy on him. Since they had come aboard the Galactica, Sheba spent more time with Apollo than with her own wingmate. He and Sheba had been very close, at one time. Bojay had even considered a deeper relationship with Sheba, but he wasn't sure how Cain would have liked that, so he never pursued it. And now it was too late. Sheba was busy throwing herself at Apollo, and he wasn't even man enough to notice. Bojay had seen how Apollo withdrew from Sheba, avoided her even. That annoyed him more than the fact that he and Apollo just didn't seem to agree about much of anything. The equinus' astrum wasn't good enough for her, in the first place, and in the second place, he was too stupid to see what a good woman he had in front of him. His for the asking. It was enough to make Bojay's blood boil. Sheba deserved better. She deserved him. A beeping from Bojay's console returned his thoughts immediately to the job at hand. Three centars from the fleet, they had reached the limit of their patrol. "Time to turn around, Lieutenant," he said as he engaged his turbos and brought his viper around to a bearing that would have them intersect with the fleet again. "Copy," Sheba replied, matching his maneouvers perfectly. "Everything looks clear on this vector, anyway. I'm sure Adama will be relieved to hear that our luck with the Cylons seems to be holding." "Yeah, as long as they're not just trailing beyond our scanners, waiting to lull us into a false sense of security." "Our long range patrols would have picked them up if they were," Sheba replied tightly. "The tinheads are not that good and we are." Bojay began to feel a bit more comfortable with his wingmate, her chatter made it seem a bit more like old times. "Hey partner, do you want to go get something to eat when we get back?" he asked, missing the distant tone of Sheba's voice. "I don't think so. I want to see how Apollo is doing," came the reply. So much for being comfortable, Bojay thought. "Sheba, what exactly do you see in him, anyway?" exasperated, Bojay couldn't help but ask. "I'm not sure I like that question," Sheba was not anxious to open that wound again. She thought Bojay might at least leave the question of her relationship with Apollo alone, but obviously she was wrong. "Oh, come on. Everyone can see how he treats you. You mean nothing to him, but you keep throwing yourself at him. When are you going to wake up?" "I think that is just about enough, Captain." Sheba was livid. She hadn't gotten anywhere with Bojay. He was never going to change his mind about Apollo. "Alright, I'm sorry I . . . " "I said enough!" Sheba interrupted. "If you have anything else to say to me, Captain Bojay, it had better be about this patrol, because I have had it with you." With that, she turned off the private com. Bojay signaled twice for her to re-activate it, but she refused. The rest of the patrol was flown in silence. Sheba was seething inside. Men! They just couldn't let go of their prejudices. Bojay hadn't liked Apollo from the beginning, and he just wasn't willing to give him a chance. Not even for his wingmate and closest friend. Ever since Apollo had stood against them over the battle tactics used at Gamoray, Bojay had made up his mind that the captain from the Galactica was out to get them. As much as it had hurt then, even Sheba realized that her father was only human. If Adama had not pulled rank on Cain, the fleet might have been destroyed had they first attacked Gamoray as Cain insisted. Adama and Apollo had been right. There was a small part of Sheba, however, that wondered if Bojay was right. What if Apollo really didn't feel anything for her? And was she so sure that she loved him? How could anyone be in love with someone who wouldn't return the feeling? She had had this conversation with Cassiopeia innumerable times. Each time, Cassie had assured her that Apollo's actions and demeanor said that he did feel a connection to Sheba, but what if she was wrong? Sheba looked toward Bojay's viper. He was staring ahead, lost in his own thoughts, mouth poised in a permanent frown. He wasn't always like this, she told herself. Back on the Pegasus, they had been very close, almost like . . . like . . . . Sudden remembrance shot through Sheba like a laser. Almost like lovers. Oh my God, was that what had been eating at Bojay these past sectars? At one time, she had thought that Bojay might suggest a deepening of their relationship, and at that time, she would have been receptive, but nothing ever happened and she assumed that she had imagined it. It had hurt for a short while but she got over it. Their lives were so full of strikes against the Cylons there wasn't really time for a lot of self-pity. And now? Well, Bojay wasn't quite the ladies' man Starbuck was, but he always seemed to find company somewhere. She had been concerned at seeing him with so many different women, but hadn't stopped to think that he might actually be trying to replace her. It made Sheba's head ache to try to sort everything out. For so long, it had just been her and her father, after her mother died. And they were happy, at least, as happy as they could be. Then Cassiopeia changed everything. Sheba had hated her for coming between her and her father. That hate lasted for many yahrens. She was glad she was finally able to get to know Cassiopeia on her own terms, for she had turned out to be a true and trusted friend in the last six sectars. Then there was Apollo. The captain had literally turned her world upside down. Her opinion of him had been similar to Bojay's when they first met, but she began to find herself inexplicably drawn to this complicated man. And he had seemed equally interested in her, at first. Then came the emotional withdrawal. Confused, Sheba had sought our Athena, who had told her about Serina, their mother, and Zac. Sheba had been content to give Apollo some room for awhile. It was understandable that he might feel some guilt at being attracted to another woman, but it had been almost a yahren now. She was not sure how long she wanted to wait for him to grieve. After all, if she had to compete with a ghost, she would surely lose. All of her shortcomings were clearly visible. Ghosts had the advantage of being remembered in their perfection. Glancing at her scanner, Sheba realized they were almost on top of the fleet. Involuntarily, her thoughts immediately turned to the life center and she hoped that maybe Apollo had woken while she was gone. She wanted so badly to talk to him and find out where things stood between them. If it was over, let it be so, but this waiting and waiting was taking its toll. Oh, who am I kidding, she thought desperately. I love him, end of story. Why else would I have avoided finding out what he really thinks for so long? Lords of Kobol, she prayed silently, if there is any spark of love between us at all, please let Apollo find it. Sheba kicked in her turbos, following Bojay, who had plotted their final approach vector to the Galactica. I guess I will find out sooner or later, she thought, as she guided her ship back home. ********************** Apollo woke for the second time to find himself in his quarters. This time he was alone. The pain in his head had not dissipated much, but he had to find out what was going on. Something about waking up with Serina next to him had seemed mildly disorienting, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. He rolled over to get up, sat on the edge of the bed, and reached for the bedside lamp. Before he flipped the switch, he heard the door hiss open. Turning, he saw the familiar silhouette of his wife in the light from the outer compartment. Seeing that Apollo was awake, Serina turned on the light and came to sit beside him on the bed. She reached for his shoulders and began to lightly massage them. "How do you feel?" she asked him. "Awful," Apollo put his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes, trying to assuage the pounding. "I'd like to get the number of the transport that ran over me." Serina smiled at his attempt at humour. Apollo remembered how that beautiful smile always made him feel before . . . before what? Suddenly, he shivered, as something didn't seem quite right about being with Serina. He felt as though he was overlooking something, but he couldn't quite think of what it was. He looked at his wife; she was as beautiful as he remembered. There it was again. Why did he think of her in that way, as someone to be . . . remembered? Then he remembered something else, or rather, someone else. "Serina, where is Boxey?" Apollo asked, a note of worry creeping into his voice. "He's not here Apollo," Serina replied, matter-of-factly. "Why, where is he?" Apollo's feeling of disorientation was growing. Something was definitely wrong. "He can't be here." "What do you mean, he can't be here? He lives here." "No, Apollo," Serina looked directly into his eyes, seemingly into the very depths of his soul, "he lives with you." Apollo felt as though someone had just punched him in the stomach. Memories of Serina falling to the sands of Kobol, mortally wounded, rushed past him. Serina was dead. He remembered that now. Sheba . . . that was who he had forgotten . . . where was Sheba? Where was he? This looked like his quarters, but it couldn't be. Serina was dead. He had to get away from here. Something was wrong, he couldn't stay. Panic began to set in. "Serina, what in Hades is going on?" he asked stridently, even as his vision began to blur and her image began to recede from him. She screamed for him to come back. Hearing Serina's scream, Apollo reached out for her in desperation, but he was too late. Again, too late. Blackness enveloped him. He was completely alone, unable to see, hear, or feel anything. Soon he became aware of a slight buzzing in his ears. The blackness began to fade to a dull grey again, then to something lighter yet. He opened his eyes and could see what appeared to be ceiling panels. He recognized them as being from the Galactica, but he couldn't tell where. He could barely hear voices. They were so muffled, they sounded as though they must be very far away. He tried to move but couldn't. Something held him fast. Then a face appeared above him. He blinked to try to clear his eyes so he could see. They were full of tears, he could feel them running down his face. Dark hair, brown eyes. Sheba? He tried to call out to her, but it was difficult to get his body to do anything he asked of it. And he was so tired. Try as he might, he couldn't get through whatever was separating him from the face above him. Dejected and exhausted, he couldn't reach Serina, he couldn't reach Sheba, and he had no idea where he was. Apollo had no recourse but to give up the fight for now, as the blackness he had experienced so often lately, came for him yet again. ********************** Sheba headed straight for the lift after landing, not wanting to talk to Bojay. They had had enough discussion, for now. Things between herself, Bojay and Apollo seemed to be more complicated than she wanted to deal with at the moment. The most important thing right now was for Apollo to recover. Then the rest would work out. At least, she hoped it would. As she entered the life center, her thoughts turned back to her present impasse with Apollo. She had not been lying when she told Adama that she had never felt for anyone else, the kind of love she felt for Apollo. Even when they fought, she didn't derive any satisfaction out of winning the argument. At first, that had surprised Sheba. She had trained for combat her whole life, had lived for the next opportunity to blast more tin-headed Cylons from the universe. After she met the intensely private Strike Commander from the Galactica, she found herself inexplicably drawn to him. He was so unlike the majority of the pilots on the Pegasus. Inevitably, after yahrens of serving under her father, Cain's brashness and swagger rubbed off on the men and women under his command, especially Bojay. Apollo was different. His was a kind of quiet confidence, the kind you could feel just by being with him. Soon Sheba had found herself looking for reasons to be near the young captain. When Apollo was concerned about something, which, admittedly, was most of the time, it bothered her too. It was never the situation that bothered her, so much as the fact that she hated to see him worrying. And he worried about everything: the safety of the fleet, the warriors under his command, his family, his friends. At least for once, Sheba thought, he was quiet enough to keep from worrying about everyone else. Sheba caught Cassiopeia's eye across the bay and an unspoken question passed between the two friends, but Cassiopeia merely shook her head. There had been no change. As she entered Apollo's room, Sheba felt her heart jump when she saw him again. Frack, she thought she had become used to the idea of seeing him in the med-bed, but the sight of the bruises brought back memories of the Triad game as though it was all happening again, right in front of her. She closed her eyes and willed the images away, but they formed anyway: she saw Drake hit him, then Apollo bleeding on the Triad court. Sheba opened her eyes and shook her head in an effort to dispel the nightmarish scenes, then sat in the chair that someone had thoughtfully placed beside the med-bed. She reached out to take hold of Apollo's hand. "Apollo . . . " she smiled faintly, "I'm back from patrol. Everything is fine, still no sign of the Cylons. I talked to Bojay. He was sorry you got hurt, and Drake has been suspended from competition by the Triad league. Now you just have to get better." The only response was the regular rise and fall of the captain's chest as he breathed. There had still been no further sign of consciousness from him. His hand was limp in hers, but she continued to hold it, studying its features as if trying to commit them to memory. The scrapes on the backs of the knuckles where he had skinned them against the wall of the Triad court . . . the callouses on his palm from long centars spent flying vipers . . . even the small scar on his thumb from the time she had dropped the wrench on him when they were repairing a comline connection in her viper. Sheba smiled as she remembered the colourful language coming from the cockpit, then the captain's shaggy head popping up from inside, an accusatory glare on his face. She had laughed, pleading her innocence. Then, he had let her hold his hand while she bandaged it, and did not pull away when she finished. For a brief micron they had looked into each other's eyes, acknowledging the ache there. Then they had drawn closer to one another and their lips met in a tender kiss. It was a beautiful moment. Too short, unfortunately, as one of the viper technicians arrived just then, with the wiring they needed to complete the repairs to her ship. It was one of the last close moments they had shared. How is it that I managed to fall hopelessly in love with someone who doesn't know if he can love me, she wondered? "Together, forever apart," Cassiopeia said sympathetically, as she came up behind her and put her hands on Sheba's shoulders. Sheba had not heard Cassiopeia enter the room. "What?" Sheba turned around to face Cassiopeia, wondering what her friend was talking about. "It's an old fairy-tale told on Gemon," Cassiopeia continued. "Two lovers held forever apart by a spell cast on them by a magician who coveted the woman. By day, the woman flew as an accipiton, and by night, the man took the form of a lupus. They stayed together as human and animal. Only at dawn and at dusk could they ever see each other for a micron, as they changed form; but they could never touch, never be together as man and woman. With all the ups and downs you and Apollo have had, I've been reminded of that story. It seems so like him, wanting to be with you but unable to let go of the past. Physically together, but emotionally apart." Sheba thought for a moment. "That really could be our story, couldn't it?" she mused quietly. "Only, our spell is whatever bond it is that Apollo still shares with Serina. In a way, I really wish I could have met her. She must have been a very special person." "I don't think Apollo gives his heart to anyone lightly," Cassie responded. "And then, I think it is forever. It took me quite a while to get to know him, and even now, he only lets me see so much. If it weren't for you and Starbuck and Athena, I don't think I would know him at all." "So what happened to them?" Sheba asked. "What happened to who?" Cassie had not followed Sheba's train of thought. "The lovers in the story." "Oh . . . they finally confronted the magician and defeated him. That broke the spell and they stayed together for the rest of their lives." "Well, I guess our chances of confronting his demons are gone since Serina is dead. I'm afraid I just can't compete with a ghost. I wonder if our story will ever have a happy ending?" Sheba asked forlornly. She continued to watch Apollo, wondering if he could hear what was going on around him, wondering when he would really wake up. Cassiopeia went around Sheba to the head of the bed, removed the old dressing on Apollo's cheek and applied a new one. "At least some of the swelling has come down," Cassie said, mostly just to change the subject of Serina. "The treatments we've been using are working and he's breathing much easier now." She looked back at Sheba. Cassie wanted to say something to comfort her, her friend was so despondent right now. Both women jumped when they suddenly heard a sound coming from beside them. Apollo was trying to shift in the med-bed. All at once his eyes flashed open. They began to brim with tears, which then coursed down his cheeks. Sheba's heart went out to him. She hated to see him in pain. His eyes still looked distant to her, as though he was not quite with them. "Sheba . . ." his voice was barely a whisper, but it was enough for Sheba to hear. To her, it was as much a relief as if he had just recited the entire Book of the Word. "Apollo, I'm right here," Sheba replied, squeezing his hand. He seemed to be trying to focus on her, but without success as his eyes closed again. "Cassie, do you think he recognized me this time?" Sheba looked to her friend. "That's good, isn't it?" "Yes, it is," Cassiopeia smiled. "I think maybe we should let him sleep now. He needs to build up enough strength to stay conscious for more than a few microns." Sheba was loathe to leave, now that Apollo had seemed to recognize her. She wanted to be with him when he woke up, but she also knew that Cassiopeia was right about letting him rest. Knowing Apollo, if he knew they were there waiting, he would probably not rest easy. ********************** Boomer wondered how Boxey would react to the news that there had been no change in his father's condition. He was waiting in the corridor outside one of the compartments that served as the education center on the Galactica. Many parents and guardians were waiting for their children as well, some of them talking, others reading, still others, like Boomer, lost in their own thoughts. Boomer supposed that everyone was used to seeing any of a number of warriors or bridge officers coming to pick Boxey up from instructional period, since Apollo was often away on patrol or some other duty. This time, Boomer had forced Starbuck to go spend some time having an evening meal with his wife. He knew that Starbuck and Cassiopeia had not had much of a chance to be together in the last day or two, and truthfully, Boomer enjoyed spending time with Boxey. When the Cylons attacked the colonies, Boomer had lost his family on Caprica. At least, they had never shown up on any of the fleet records since, and he had checked at least a few dozen times during the first sectars of their present journey. He still looked to the records every so often, just in case they had been missed, but the result was always the same. Boomer missed them all, but perhaps the most, he missed his younger sister's little girl. She was only four yahrens old when the attack occurred. He had last seen her at her natal day celebration about six sectons before the holocaust. He had only had a 24-centar furlon, but he had just enough time to stop in a shop near his sister's home to buy his niece a gift. It was a dark green velvet dress with white trim at the collar and cuffs and a big white bow at the back. She was so delighted when she opened it, she insisted that she be allowed to wear it immediately and had paraded around the kitchen and living room, turning around every so often to see if she could see the bow in the back. It had been a wonderful day, and the last time Boomer had seen any of his family alive. Sometimes it still shocked him to think that he would never see little Neisha, or any of his sisters again. Of course, with the confusion following their flight from the colonies, Boomer had thrown himself into his work, like everyone else. It wasn't until much later that he took the time to grieve. Still, he felt lucky to be surrounded by friends who were as close as family members, probably even more so now, since no one escaped from the colonies without the loss of a loved one. Boomer's friendship with Starbuck and Apollo, especially Starbuck, was one such family group. And Commander Adama had treated them all with the kind of concern and respect normally reserved for family. That was definitely an unusual relationship to have with one's Commander, but with Adama, somehow it didn't seem out of place. Maybe that was because half of his family had disappeared in those few centars of Hades as well. The addition of Captain Apollo's wife, Serina, had been short-lived too, the family unit rent apart one more time when she was killed on Kobol. With Apollo having to care for Serina's orphaned son, Boxey, all of Blue squadron had pitched in at times, to help out their squadron commander, who had his hands full enough. Boomer had found that talking to Boxey was a lot like talking to Neisha, and he had to admit that he really enjoyed the little boy's company. Once, when Boomer had taken one of Starbuck's patrols with Apollo, Boomer had told the captain about his niece and how much Boxey reminded him of her. Since then, Boomer noticed that Apollo had quietly made sure that Boomer and Boxey were able to spend some time together every once in awhile, like the time they ended up trapped together in the rejuvenation center, during the fire that very nearly destroyed the Galactica. Mysteriously, an order for a day of furlon had appeared on Boomer's bunk the night before, along with a packet of mushies and a hastily handwritten note requesting they be delivered to Boxey the next day. Boomer shook his head and smiled, as he remembered how he hadn't even been able to keep the treat a secret from Boxey, who had taught Muffit to sniff them out. Presently, the door to the education center slid open and children of all ages began to file out, some heading off on their own and others looking around for adult faces they recognized. Boomer straightened up from where he had been leaning against the wall and stretched, looking for Boxey. Finally, he heard the jingling sound Muffit made when he walked. Boxey's head poked out of the compartment, looking first one way down the corridor, then the other. He smiled a little when he saw Boomer. "Hey there, cadet, how was instructional period?" Boomer asked. "I don't know," Boxey shuffled out into the corridor, Muffit trailing close behind. "I got in trouble for not paying attention. I didn't want to go today, but Grandfather made me." To Boomer's surprise, Boxey didn't ask about his father, but slowly made off down the corridor with Muffit, leaving the open-mouthed lieutenant standing alone. "Uh, where are you headed off to, my friend?" Boomer asked as he took a few quick strides to catch up to the lad. Boxey stopped and looked up at Boomer, biting at his lower lip, as if he wanted to tell Boomer something but wasn't sure if he should. Boomer knelt down and took Boxey's shoulders in his hands, forcing the child to look at him. Boxey looked at the floor, then at Muffit, and finally back at Boomer. "Boomer, I want to see my Dad," the boy said matter-of-factly. "Everyone is trying to keep me away from him. I know he got hurt and I know he can't wake up yet, but he's my Dad and I want to see him anyway." They regarded each other in silence for a micron, then Boxey asked quietly, "Will you take me?" Boomer saw Boxey's face in front of him, but somehow, he heard Neisha's voice. "You know, Boxey, he looks pretty bruised up right now, and Starbuck and Cassie and your Grandfather, they just don't want you to be scared." Boomer didn't know what else to say. Starbuck had told him about how Boxey had thought that Apollo was really dead and they just weren't telling him. "I know," the little boy continued, looking imploringly into Boomer's eyes. "But I promise I won't be scared. And if I am, I won't let my Dad know. Please . . . " Boomer suspected that Commander Adama would be angry with him for going against his wishes, but he didn't have the heart to keep Boxey away from Apollo. In his mind, he remembered when his own father did not come home one day; no explanation, he just disappeared. It wasn't fair to keep the kid from seeing his father. Boxey knew enough already about losing parents. He at least deserved to visit Apollo. And who knew? Maybe it would be just what Apollo needed. "All right," Boomer sighed, "but this has to be a secret between you and me. If the Commander finds out, I'll be on deep patrols for a sectar." Boxey smiled and his face lit up as Boomer took his hand and led him off down the corridor. They weren't very far from the life center, so it took only centons to get there. Boomer was relieved to find that the med-techs were busy with a shift change. Good. There was less chance they would be noticed that way. He took Boxey and Muffit toward the private rooms where Starbuck had told him Apollo was staying. "Ready, kiddo?" he asked, as they stood outside the door to the captain's room. "Yes," was the straightforward reply. Boomer opened the door and they stepped through. The door closed behind them. The first thing Boomer noticed was the overwhelmingly oppressive silence. It was like waking up on a deep probe, to be greeted by the silence of space. He followed as Boxey went to Apollo's side, put his hands on his Dad's arm, and stood on tiptoe to look up at him. Apollo didn't look as bad as Boomer thought he might, although the bruises were testament enough that he had gone through quite an ordeal. If he had not known better, Boomer would have thought the captain was simply asleep. "Hi Dad," Boxey whispered, as though he didn't want to wake his father. "Muffit and I came to see how you were. Boomer helped us sneak in, but that's a secret. You look pretty weird, but everyone says you are going to be okay when you wake up. Just wake up soon, okay? We miss you and we want you to come home." Boomer felt a lump form in his throat as he watched Boxey lay his head on Apollo's arm. "We'd better go now," he said, when he thought he could speak without his voice breaking. How he wished Neisha could be here, wished his sisters could be here . . . but instead, he would help look after his friend's son, who had already been through so much. At least Boxey knew now that his father was indeed alive. As Boomer ushered Boxey out the door, he looked back at Apollo. "Hurry back, my friend," he said, so that Boxey couldn't hear. "Your son needs you now." With a quick glance around to be sure that no one had noticed them, Boomer watched the door close before they left the life center. ********************** Waking again. Where was he this time? He felt shifting underneath him and sat up. The pain in his head had gone and it didn't hurt to move anymore. It was night and the stars were visible above. He could hear someone approaching across the sand. Rising, he looked around him and immediately recognized the place. Kobol. The ruins. A single figure continued to walk toward him, silhouetted in the moonlight. He knew who it was without asking. This time, this place, it was all too familiar. He had re-lived the horror of what had happened on Kobol countless times in his dreams, only to awaken shaken and crying, trembling from having to experience again, the death of the woman he had given his soul to. "I can only die once, you know," the approaching figure told him as it came closer. "I know. But I can re-live it as long as fate is willing to torture me." Apollo stiffened as Serina stood close behind him and folded her arms around his waist. Body and mind cried out for relief from the torment of feeling her so close, but knowing in his heart that none of this could be real. She was dead, and nothing he could do or say would change that simple fact. "You're right," she said quietly, as though reading his mind. "I died sectars ago. Almost a yahren, now." Serina held her husband tightly, sharing in his pain, realizing how afraid he was to turn around to face her. She continued to speak to his back. "Apollo, there was nothing you could do. Life works in very strange ways, and it was just time for me to be finished here. Please let it be done." "What do you mean?" Apollo finally turned around to face her, returning the embrace, not knowing how long this would last. "You don't belong here, my love. You're not ready. Do you remember what happened, yet?" Serina's voice was tender, patient almost, as though she was speaking to Boxey, trying to find the words to explain something at a level he would understand. "The Triad game?" Apollo asked. Serina nodded and he continued. "Yes, I think I know what happened. We were playing pretty rough. Starbuck tipped Bojay's pass, Drake and I jumped for the ball; he elbowed me. I . . . I don't remember anything very clearly after that. Everything went black. I only remember bits and pieces of things, really. Mostly I could just hear people around me. Sheba, my Father, Athena, Boxey, . . . but that doesn't explain what I am doing here. With you . . ." "Apollo, what about Sheba?" "Sheba? Why, is something wrong? She's alright, isn't she?" Serina was amused by Apollo's sudden concern. It was a good sign. "Everything is fine. It's just that she's very concerned about you." "Why?" Apollo was getting more and more confused by their conversation. How did Serina know about Sheba? Serina clasped Apollo's hand and led him to a stone pillar that had toppled onto its side and was half-buried in the sand. She sat, and pulled him down to sit beside her. She could feel him studying her face, not quite believing he was talking to her, afraid to continue, afraid to let go. "She loves you, you know. Like I did." Apollo's pain showed clearly on his face, as it always had. Some things didn't change much. He had never hidden his emotions with her. "It's alright," she continued, "we're not competing. I can't be with you anymore, but it's not right that you should be alone." Then, seeing that he was trying very hard to avoid thinking about Sheba, she asked him a simple question. "Do you love her?" Serina watched tears form in Apollo's eyes as he tried to look away from her, across the sand. She could feel the ache in his heart, the rent in his soul from being torn between a love he could feel and one he could only remember. She wanted very much to reach out and comfort him, but she had been instructed that this had to be his decision and his alone. No interference would be tolerated. Finally, he was able to turn back to his wife, the woman he had pledged his life to. "Yes, I do," he managed to choke out, though a tide of guilt threatened to overwhelm him. It was the most honest answer he could have given. Serina knew that and was relieved. At last he was beginning to be honest with himself. "Then you must let me go," she pleaded. "No, Serina, I love . . . " "No!" She interrupted him. "I know that you love me, and I will love you always. But we both need to move on. You don't need to hang on to me so tightly anymore. If you can't do this for you, then do it for me. As long as you won't let go, I can't leave here. We both stop growing. I know that is not what you want, for either of us." Understanding began to dawn on the captain, from half-remembered lectures and readings from yahrens ago, about the nature of the soul after death. There were as many conflicting ideas as there were cultures, but many shared a common belief that there was a period of adjustment, both for those left behind, and for a life force newly experiencing a changed concept of reality. Some even believed that the departed spirit could affect the lives of those left behind, staying close to the only life it knew, too afraid of its new existence to move on. Some believed that the reverse was also possible, that the grief of those left by a loved one could hold that soul back, if those who remained were too fearful to move on in their own lives. "Is that what I've done?" Apollo searched her eyes for a sign that he was correct. "No," Serina shook her head and laughed, "at least not yet. We were separated so suddenly, I was as in shock about the whole thing as you were. But now I'm reaching the point where I need to move on too. That is why we needed to talk, and when this opportunity arose, well . . . . I could tell that you were beginning to acknowledge what Sheba means to you." "So you arranged this whole thing with Drake and the Triad game?" Apollo asked, not believing it could be true. "Oh no," Serina replied. "I wouldn't have been allowed to interfere in your life like that. That just happened. But this is the only way I can approach you. I'm afraid I don't envy how you will feel when you wake up." "It will have been worth it to be able to talk to you again, like this," Apollo smiled. "I hope you remember that later," she laughed. "So you're not angry with me? About Sheba, I mean." "How could I be? We had such a wonderful life together, even though it was brief. I couldn't deny that feeling to someone else. Sheba is a lovely woman, and she cares about you very much. Boxey is absolutely devoted to you, and you are doing a wonderful job as his father. I have no worries about how things will be for him or for you. And now it is time for me to move on as well." "Will I ever get to see you again? Like we are now?" "I honestly don't know, Apollo," Serina said truthfully. "But if I were you, I wouldn't go looking to get knocked on the head to find out." They laughed together, then Serina stood and Apollo sensed their time together was rapidly coming to an end. She pulled him up to join her, then suddenly turned and looked across the sand. Almost as if she heard someone calling her, Apollo thought, though he hadn't heard anything except the soft whistle of the wind blowing through the ruins. He noticed how her hair danced softly in the breeze, how her eyes searched for a glimpse of something he could not see. For a moment, her beauty almost took his breath away, as it had done countless times before. "I have to go now," she said. "Wait, one more question," Apollo entreated. "Does any of this have anything to do with the ship of lights? And Zac, and my Mother?" "That's three questions," Serina admonished him, smiling. "And the answer is yes, but that's all I can say, except that they love you very much. We are with you always. The bond any of us has with one another cannot be broken. Ever." "Thank-you," Apollo pulled Serina into an embrace and spoke quietly in her ear. "I will always love you." "And I, you, my love," she replied softly. She pulled away, and with one last look, turned and began to walk off across the sand. Apollo watched her go, then raised his eyes to the stars, wondering what would happen now. When he looked for Serina again, she was gone. He went back to the stone pillar where he sat with her, only centons before. He felt strangely at peace with what had happened. He lay back on the pillar, staring up at the sky, thinking of his family. Something told him it was time to return to them. This whole turn of events had seemed so strange; he wondered how he would ever explain it. Perhaps it was best not to even try, for the time being. He closed his eyes and the world around him receded into darkness. ********************** This time, he had to get back. He closed his eyes and tried to recall the features of the room he had been in before. He knew they had been there with him. Athena, his father, Starbuck- he had heard them- Cassiopeia, at times, Boxey and Sheba. Especially Sheba. Her image swam before him, tantalizing, so close he could almost touch her. Almost. He could feel the warmth of a hand in his own. He opened his eyes to gaze on the familiar ceiling panels in the life center. His head pounded as though his brain was two sizes larger than his skull, but at least he knew he was back on the Galactica, his Galactica. He tried to squeeze the hand holding his, but wasn't entirely sure whether or not his body was responding to his commands. "Sheba," Apollo's voice was rough and weak, but it was enough to wake the young woman by his side. Sheba had been dozing when she heard someone call her. At first, she thought it was one of the med techs coming to try to talk her into leaving again. Then, when she realized that there was no one else in the room aside from her and Apollo, she started awake and almost fell off the chair. She quickly moved in front of Apollo so he could see her. "Apollo? Oh my Lord, you're awake! Keep still . . . " she admonished him, when he grimaced as he tried to move his head. He tightened his grip on her hand. She could see the pain in his eyes, but for the first time in days they looked clear. The haze had finally lifted. "Lords of Kobol, you had us worried. How do you feel?" Sheba asked. "What about you?" Apollo ignored her question. "Me? What about me?" "You're still here." Sheba knitted her eyebrows in confusion, not understanding what he was getting at. "Sheba, please, I need to know if you . . ." Apollo's voice was hoarse, and he was tiring quickly, but he was desperate to make her understand. Sheba's eyes widened as his meaning slowly dawned on her. He was asking if she still loved him. It was a question she had considered often during the emotional turmoil of the past two days. She had been almost ready to give up on him before the Triad game, but the events that had followed convinced her that there was a connection between them that she was no longer willing to break. "Apollo," she looked down at their intertwined fingers, considering what to say next, then looked back up at him. "Whether you like it or not, I love you with my whole heart. If you want something different, then you had better tell me now, because otherwise, you are stuck with me." Tears began to fall down her cheeks. This was it, she thought. She had been as direct as she could. Now it was up to him. Apollo closed his eyes and relaxed back onto the bed, letting out the breath he had been holding. Tears appeared at the corners of his eyes, as he couldn't hold his emotions inside any longer. Sheba reached up to brush the tears away, but he stopped her with his free hand. Gently, he pulled Sheba's hands to him. She leaned in closer when he spoke softly. "Sheba, I love you. Please don't leave. Don't give up on me." A smile played on Sheba's lips. "My love, I will be here whenever you need me." She gave his hands a small squeeze to reinforce what she had said. Apollo's eyes began to close, then opened again, as he struggled to stay conscious. "Gods, it hurts," he said through clenched teeth. "I know, I wish I could make it go away," Sheba could tell their short conversation had tired him. "I will be here when you wake up again. Rest now." Apollo obediently closed his eyes and was asleep again in microns. Sheba watched the regular rise and fall of his chest with a feeling of relief. A hand on her shoulder made her turn around. Dr. Salik had been so quiet, she had not even heard him enter the room. Of course, she realized, he must have been watching from the monitor station. He would have known that Apollo had regained consciousness. "It is a nice, normal sleep now," Salik assured her. "He's through the worst of it. Why don't you go get some sleep too?" "If it's all the same to you, Doctor, I'd like to be here when he wakes up again." Salik nodded. She had been here almost steady for the past two days, it was not likely he would be able to talk her into leaving now. "Very well," he said, "but at least go find Cassiopeia and the two of you go get something to eat. I happen to know that neither one of you has been looking after yourselves properly this last little while. God forbid that we have an alert, but if we do, I'd rather not have you thinking about how hungry you are when you should be thinking about blasting Cylons." Salik smiled and Sheba had to laugh. As a matter of fact, it felt good to laugh again, she noticed. As Salik pushed her out of the room and she looked across the sickbay for Cassiopeia, Sheba thought that maybe her fairy tale was going to have a happy ending, after all. ******************** The solitary figure gazed dreamily at the stars visible through the large overhead panels. Back in his favorite place to be alone, Apollo was waiting. He couldn't have done this without some help from his friends. A few short sectons ago, it would have nearly killed him to admit he needed help, but things had changed recently, and he had no choice. Cassiopeia had helped him walk here from the life station. He was still fighting the headaches, dizziness and nausea that had developed soon after he had finally regained consciousness. Whenever he stood up, the world started to spin and the only way to make it stop was to sit or lay down. Of course, he could always close his eyes, and that generally worked, except that it was hard to go anywhere with your eyes closed without running into something. A bit of experimentation had convinced him that a second concussion would not be helpful at this point. At his request, Greenbean had procured a bottle of Ambrosia for him. Stolen, most likely, he thought, but as long as he didn't know where Greenbean had taken it from, he didn't worry about it. Let that be Security's problem. Maybe it would give Reese something useful to do for awhile. Greenbean had looked rather perplexed at this uncommon request from his commanding officer, but said nothing. Apollo could tell that the young pilot was dying to know what the Ambrosia was for. He could imagine the wild speculation and undoubted wagering taking place among his squadron, and absently wondered how much money Starbuck would stand to make since he already knew what Apollo had in mind. He glanced at his chronometer, waited for his eyes to focus on the numbers, then decided that Starbuck should be here with his charge at any moment. As if on cue, the hatch in the floor of the compartment opened. Apollo looked down and watched a silhouetted shape climb into the dark room. The shape was looking down through the open hatch and spoke down to a second silhouette appearing in the hatchway, as it removed its ear guards. "Starbuck, this had better be good. I told Apollo I'd join him as soon as I got back from patrol," the first shape shouted to the second below. Starbuck's response was a mischievous grin as he reached up for the hatch, and pulled it back down, leaving Sheba seemingly alone in the celestial dome. "Starbuck!" Sheba yelled, pounding on the hatch and grabbing for the wheel as he turned it closed from the other side. "What are you doing?" "He's following orders, lieutenant. I hope you show the same good sense," came a familiar voice from above. "Apollo? What are you doing here?" Sheba was incredulous. "Come on up here and find out," was the response. Sheba warily made her way up the stairs, suspicious that something was amiss. As she approached, Apollo carefully got out of the chair and leaned on the instrument panel beside it. He motioned for her to sit down, then handed her the glass of Ambrosia he had poured. Sheba raised an eyebrow, now completely unsure of what was transpiring. Apollo chuckled inwardly, enjoying the look of surprise and confusion on her face. He had rehearsed this moment in his mind countless times now, but he was still unsure about actually carrying it out. One look from Sheba would quickly reduce him from the Galactica Strike Commander to a first orbit cadet. Nervously, he fingered the small box in the inner pocket of his flight jacket. He hoped Cassie had been right about what Sheba's response would be. With one hand on the arm of the chair, and one on the instrument panel, he steadied himself as he knelt down in front of her. "Sheba, I don't really know how to do this properly, but uh, I mean . . ." he started. Then he made the worst mistake he could have made: he looked at her. Instantly, Apollo's mind went blank and he could not remember what he was saying. He looked down, trying to compose himself, but it did not seem to help. "Well?" Sheba had finally realized what was going on, but decided not to make things too easy for the captain. "And by the way, shouldn't you be in the life center, resting?" "Um, yes . . . I mean, no. Cassie knows I'm here . . ." Apollo trailed off, now thoroughly confused about how this moment was unfolding. Starbuck's coaching was no longer helping. Maybe he should have asked Starbuck to do this. No, that would really have messed things up. Wait, the box! Give her the box. He fumbled in his pocket for the small blue velvet box containing the symbol of his love for Sheba. He handed it to her. "Here . . . " Sheba's breath caught in her throat. The moment she had been hoping for was finally here. In spite of herself, she could hardly believe that Apollo had found the courage to ask this simple question. This was obviously one of the more difficult missions to which he had been assigned. She set the glass of Ambrosia down and took the offering. Slowly, she lifted the lid. "Oh my Lord," she said breathlessly. Apollo reached across her and removed the plain aurium band from the container. "Sheba, I want us to be sealed. I love you." Sheba looked down into his green eyes, shining in the starlight from above, and her heart melted instantly. Wordlessly, she lifted her right hand and allowed him to place the ring on her third finger. Besides her father, only Cassiopeia knew about the ring Cain had given to her mother, Bethany, when they had married. It had been a symbol of their devotion to one another, and a tradition in Cain's family for generations. "Apollo, how did you know about the ring?" Sheba asked, her voice nearly breaking with emotion. "I saw it once in that holopic you have of your mother and father," he admitted sheepishly. "I asked Cassiopeia about it and she told me about how Cain asked your mother to marry him. I hope you don't mind me borrowing your tradition." "No, I don't mind. And the answer is yes." "What?" "About being sealed? Yes, captain. That is, if it is an order," Sheba smiled at him. "Since when have you ever followed my orders? You're as bad as Starbuck," Apollo replied, rolling his eyes. "Oh, shut up, captain," she breathed, leaning forward and touching his jaw to turn his face up to her. Looking into his eyes, she said softly, "I have loved you for a long time, you know." "I know." Their lips met, first tentatively, then hungrily as the passion they had been denying for so long gradually began to surface. They parted, gasping for breath. Apollo tried to stand, but stumbled and caught himself on the railing beside the instrument panel. Sheba rose quickly and reached out to steady him. She noticed that he no longer shied away from her touch. Something had definitely changed since he had awakened. She wondered at it but had the feeling that the time was not quite right to ask him about what he had experienced. Since it seemed as though they would now have a future together, Sheba decided that the question of what happened to him could wait for a more appropriate time. "Maybe I should get you back to bed. You're getting dizzy again, aren't you?" Sheba asked tenderly, holding Apollo tightly with one hand and stroking his shoulder with the other. He nodded, his eyes meeting hers for a brief micron before he closed them against the wave of vertigo that threatened to knock him on his astrum. His hands gripped the railing even tighter as his precarious balance wavered, then settled again. Sheba peered intently at Apollo's face, trying to ascertain just what he was feeling. Her gaze was drawn to the bruises that still darkened both eyes. He looks so tired, she thought, but he somehow found the strength to do all of this. That same quiet strength that had first attracted her. Sheba closed the dome and quickly downed the glass of Ambrosia. Grasping Apollo's arm, she helped him down the stairs. Before Sheba could open the hatch, Apollo leaned against the side of the raised computer platform and gently pulled his new fiance into an embrace. They stayed close, just holding each other, not speaking, for perhaps a centon. Then Sheba spoke. "What is this for?" she asked. "I just wanted to memorize how it feels to be this close to you," Apollo whispered into her ear. Then he released her with a smile and she reached down to open the hatch. As they descended the ladder and began to make their way to the life center, Sheba found herself beginning to relax in a way she hadn't been able to since before she came aboard the Galactica. For the first time in the tumultuous last six sectars, Sheba allowed herself to feel the relief of being back in charge of her own destiny, secure in a love she could now openly express. The End