Rating: K+
Type: Angst/Adventure
Summary: Starbuck became a celebrated Colonial Warrior but many people do not know that he almost failed to graduate from the Academy in the first place. Neither was Apollo's defense of his friend in Murder on the Rising Star, the only time he had taken that role. This is the story of the first time……
Warnings/Content: Angst
Author's Notes: This developed from a story I wrote almost 20 years ago to exorcise some of my own demons. I found it recently and have adapted it to suit the BG universe, while not strictly cannon and certainly AU, I think it stands up pretty well.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Battlestar Galactica characters and am making no profit from this story, which is a work of fan fiction only.
Killer Instinct
Apollo yawned loudly. It had been a long patrol to be sure and the continual chattering of his wingman had made it seem even longer. Starbuck had been waxing lyrical on most subjects known to man from the shimmy his viper was exhibiting when he hit the thrusters through to Jolly's new relationship with a shuttle pilot from the agro-ship. From the unfairness of him pulling this patrol when Cassiopeia had managed to get tickets for the concert on the Rising Star and agonising over who she would take in his place, through, with a spectacular double standard that only Starbuck could get away with, to the respective physical merits of each of the female Cadets they had been training recently.
"Are you listening, 'Pol?" the Lieutenant's voice sounded irritated.
"Sorry, Bucko," Apollo guessed his yawn had been louder than he first thought. "I lost you in static for a while there." Summoning up all of his waning interest he said, "What were you saying?"
There was a snort followed by, "I was just talking about Cadet Bree. I don't think she's got what it takes."
"In what way?" A vision of the pretty blonde came unbidden into Apollo's mind as he tried to rewind Starbuck's earlier words in his head to ascertain just what he had been focusing on and what it was Bree might not be going to make.
"I don't think she's ever going to get the hang of it," Starbuck replied.
"What?" Apollo had an awful feeling he didn't want the gruesome details but a wave of relief washed over him as Starbuck replied.
"Flying a viper, of course! I've lost count of the number of times I've been through things with her. She just doesn't get it."
"It'll just take time, Bucko. I wouldn't worry. After all remember a few Cadets took their time getting it at the Academy. Some were even held back a yahren – remember?"
There was no response. Then with a wave of disgust at himself, Apollo realised why that would be. It had been a long patrol and he was tired and irritable but that was no excuse. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have forgotten something like that? And worse thrown it back at his friend as if it was not important? It had been a long time ago but Apollo knew that the confident persona his friend showed to the world was a front for the frightened orphan boy that hid within. Anything could shake his brittle confidence and though Starbuck would never reveal it to the world, he would feel it so deeply.
"Starbuck!" he called, looking desperately across to see the silhouette of his wingman, unmoving against the black velvet void beyond. "I'm sorry, I didn't….."
"It's OK, 'Pol," Starbuck's voice came back but it was uncharacteristically strained. "It was a long time ago."
"Yes but I shouldn't have brought it up, Star. I'm sorry." There was no response and Apollo knew that the generally ebullient pilot was remembering something that had hurt him so badly, it had threatened to destroy him entirely………………
"Starbuck!"
The voice came from behind and to his left, away by the door. He remained hunched over the bar, his eyes down to the ambrosia in the cup before him, stubbornly ignoring the call, although he recognised the voice immediately.
"Starbuck!"
It came again. Closer this time. Starbuck shivered, sensed the presence right behind him now; obviously the voice was not going to allow him to ignore it. Taking a deep breath he turned to see the familiar man who had interrupted his reverie.
"Apollo," he muttered in a muted greeting, his eyes dancing away from the green ones of the other man that stared at him so beseechingly. The newcomer, in the pristine Colonial Warrior uniform, was already searching, his gaze drilling into the young blond for answers that Starbuck did not want to give.
"Well, aren't you going to buy me a drink?" Apollo asked, easing his way on to the vacant stool beside his friend, smoothing his immaculate uniform with his hand and smiling fixedly.
Starbuck turned back to the barman, who had been hovering nervously. "Two ambrosia," he said softly. The barman lurched to obey and in his haste dropped the glass he had been cleaning. The shattering sound screeched through the silence of the bar and the whole place seemed to hold its breath in expectation.
"Fire the juggler!" Apollo muttered and laughed softly. It was an old military joke and Starbuck couldn't stop himself from smiling as the memories of other times in other bars leapt into his mind. Memories of good times shared with this man at his side.
Suddenly the tension in the bar was gone. The few other customers continued their conversations and the barman rushed to find his broom, muttering curses under his breath. Apollo took a sip of his drink and licked his lips, his eyes never leaving his companion. For his part Starbuck delved in his pocket and produced a fumerillo which he deposited in his mouth with a rebellious gesture, making no attempt to light it, he simply sucked on it with an uncharacteristic nervousness.
Apollo sighed and looked around the dingy, shabby establishment – certainly not the best bar that Caprica City had to offer, probably not even in the top 90! It had taken him a long time to track his illusive friend to this place and it had only been on the off-chance that he peered through the grimy windows from the street outside to pick out Starbuck's familiar form. Pure luck but from what he had heard it was about time the formerly fortunate blond had a good result. Now Apollo could tell from the stubborn set of Starbuck's jaw this conversation was going to be just as hard as he feared.
"I came back for your graduation like I promised," he ventured finally after a small sip of his drink, trying to quell the grimace the harsh hot and obviously not vintage liquor brought as it burnt his mouth in passing - who knew what damage it would do to his stomach!
Starbuck was looking down at the bar again. "Pity," he replied into his drink morosely.
Apollo had a memory then of the last time he and Starbuck had spoken, just over a yahren before at the city transit station as he and Boomer waited for the transports which would take them to the final stage of their training – the live fire exercise. Standing in the sun filled departure hall, both of them gleamed proudly in their newly acquired Ensign uniforms, both eager to be away but the joy in their hearts tempered by the fact that their class mate and friend would not be joining them.
Starbuck had smiled blindingly bright and shrugged, his whole demeanour one of careless indifference – he was good at hiding and he wasn't about to blow it for the world to see his pain. "What's another yahren?" he laughed bravely as his gaze hovered over a group of hostesses who hurried past on route to their luxury vessel embarkation point. He rolled his eyes appreciatively as one of the girls, hesitated and smiled suggestively over her shoulder at him.
"A chance to get your simulator scores even better, Bucko!" Boomer had retorted in the same light tone, laying a gentle but firm hand on the blond's shoulder as if to redirect his attention back to the conversation.
"Better!" Starbuck scoffed and turning back as the hostesses moved out of sight. "You can't improve on perfection, Boom, Boom!"
And it was true; Starbuck's simulator scores were the best any cadet had ever achieved. He was an awesome pilot, a complete natural, when he stepped into the cockpit it was as if he became a part of the machine. It was merely an extension of his own limbs, his own brain, even from the very first time. Apollo had felt a stiff shiver of jealousy when he matched his own excellent scores against those of his friend and saw just how much better the orphan from Umbra was when compared to the Commander's son.
It was that talent that had probably saved the blond's career, that and the intervention of Commander Adama. Apollo had never told Starbuck that his father had sent a personal note to the Academy Director, Commander Adkin, to plead for the blond and it was that along with his prodigious skill that had resulted in the young reprobate being bumped back a yahren and not jettisoned from the Academy entirely. Being bumped back was not unusual at the Academy but on every other occasion it had been because of the cadet's lack of skill or knowledge. There had never been a cadet bumped back as a disciplinary matter, no one had ever failed the course because of extra-curricula activities and been given a second chance before, but then there had never been a cadet quite like Starbuck!
He had been crestfallen at his failure, of course and irritated no end but Apollo had soon realised that was more at the fact that he had been found out, rather than the thought that he had done anything wrong. "It was just a game of pyramid!" he had whined to Apollo as he lay on his bunk watching his friend pack.
"You know all forms of gambling are banned here, Starbuck!" Apollo had retorted, stuffing his clothes in his bag with an unusual thoughtless abandon.
"I've been playing it all the time I've been in the Academy." Starbuck bit back childishly.
"Then you're lucky you weren't caught earlier!" Apollo's patience was about worn out. "And you never played for real cubits before did you?" Starbuck pouted and shrugged reluctantly at that. "How much did Areois end up owing you?" Apollo had pressed, exchanging an exasperated glance with Boomer, packing at the other side of the room, who had just shaken his head ruefully.
Starbuck smiled. "Seventy four thousand, nine hundred and fifty seven cubits to be exact," he pronounced proudly.
"And you are always so exact!" It was a mark of Apollo's frustration that his reply dripped sarcasm.
"Only when I'm teaching an ignorant son of a bovine a lesson," Starbuck had said his tone turning uncharacteristically bitter, he hesitated before forcing the stunning smile to return. "I wasn't going to make him pay, although frak knows his family wouldn't miss that amount."
"Unbelievable!" Boomer had muttered.
"You don't even think you've done anything wrong do you?" Apollo retorted.
The smile faltered into a hurt expression. "I do," Starbuck countered. "I missed my chance to go on the live fire exercise with you guys. I got held back for a yahren. I got my astum busted by the Commander! That's wrong!"
Apollo shook his head and turned back to his bag stuffing. "Unbelievable!"
"You see things differently, lads," Boomer had mediated, easily taking on the role as he had so many other times in the Academy. "Can we just leave it at that?"
They had and Starbuck had accompanied them to the transit station, his swagger unrestrained and his smile broad as he flirted outrageously with the hostesses on the transit. He had at least turned serious at the end as the other two, along with the rest of the cadets he had trained with throughout his time in the Academy, stepped in to their shuttle.
"I promise I will do all in my power to get back this time next yahren," Apollo had stated. "To see you graduate!"
"Me too," Boomer had agreed.
Apollo had expected a throw away line but the response he got had been even more impressive because it came from the carefree character he knew so well. Eyes burning brightly Starbuck had nodded stiffly and said simply, "I would appreciate that but I'll understand, leave won't be easy to get, even for a Commander's son."
"See you soon, Bucko!" Apollo replied, trying to hide the shaft of hurt that arched through him at Starbuck's reference to his family – if he only knew!
The doors slid shut at that point on the small, lonely figure standing on the platform as Starbuck called back, sarcastically saluting and seemingly restored to his disrespectful self. "See you too, Sirs!"
Apollo pulled himself back to the sordid little bar in the seedy side of town and wondered what had changed. What had happened over the previous yahren to change that cocksure, lovable rogue into the sad, defeated wreck that sat opposite him now?
"So you made it to a Lieutenant," Starbuck said eying the bars at Apollo's throat, trying valiantly to hide the envious bite in his voice. "Not bad in a yahren, even for a Commander's boy!"
Apollo flushed, annoyed anew by the comment. "I worked for it."
Starbuck nodded. "I'm sure you did." He hesitated, looked away and licked his lips before continuing, "You deserve it, I know you'll have worker harder than anyone else on the fleet, Apollo, that's what you do. So why waste your time here?"
Apollo held his stare. "I got leave – wasn't easy, even for a Commander's son but I promised I would be here for you and I am."
Starbuck chuckled with no humour. "This wasn't what you had in mind though was it?" He sat back, arms wide as if to encompass the whole place before he folded them defensively across his chest. "Where's Ensign Boomer then?"
"Boomer couldn't make it but he said he would see you in space." Apollo's stare did not blink.
"Space, ha!" Starbuck chuckled bitterly as the thought ran around his head; that's where I should be, flying one of those beautiful machines, flying ……
"What happened, Starbuck?"
The blond gulped then, took a long pull of his drink before raising his eyes to meet those of his friend. "I guess they were right all along," he said. "I don't have what it takes to make a Colonial Warrior. I never did."
"Felgercarb!" The feelings behind the sentiment were strengthened by the fact that Apollo never normally saw the need to resort to such language. Starbuck stiffened noticeably as the Lieutenant bent towards him, green eyes flashing angrily. "It's Apollo you're talking to now, Starbuck! Cut all the self pity, it doesn't wash with me. I know you and I know how much you wanted to graduate. I was there remember, all those nights you struggled through your quantum math, all that studying – it didn't come easy to you but you weren't going to let it beat you. I remember all those physical training sessions when you struggled with your maturing body, when you constantly put in times faster than any of the bigger, stronger boys. All those times when you would much rather have being playing pyramid or chasing girls but you didn't, you stuck obstinately to your goal. But most of all I remember that day you first flew solo – showed that sheer breath-taking talent that came from the depths of your soul. You were born to be a Colonial Warrior, more than any man I know and I've met a few! So don't expect me to believe you haven't got what it takes. I know differently!"
Starbuck shook his head. "I lack killer instinct."
"Felgercarb!" Apollo snapped again.
Starbuck gulped, pulled his eyes from the other's intense stare and looked around the bar self-consciously. "It's what my final report says," he replied lamely.
"It's what the draft of your final report says," Apollo corrected him. "I thought there was going in be an Official Enquiry into what happened before anything was finalised."
Starbuck snorted. "It won't come up with anything different."
"How do you know?"
Starbuck slipped off his stool. "Because it's the fraking truth!" he spat furiously, his voice so loud all the bar's occupants turned around to regard him. He shuddered, flexing his hands agitatedly, waving the fumerillo in the air impotently. "I need some air!" With that he was gone, stalking out of the door without a backward glance.
Apollo let out a long sigh, tried to make the tension that was holding his whole body stiff, dissipate. It wouldn't go and he knew he would find no peace until he understood what had happened to his friend. He elegantly slid from his stool and followed the blond through the bar's still swinging door at a run.
As he drew up beside Starbuck, making his way along the sidewalk, he said. "When are you meeting the Investigator?"
"Tomorrow morning," Starbuck's face was grim as he pretended to concentrate on pushing his way along the busy walkway.
"Who is accompanying you?"
Starbuck stopped. "Who's what?"
"Accompanying you. You have the right of accompaniment – it says in the rules," Apollo responded.
Starbuck snorted. "No body told me."
"That's settled then."
"What's settled then?"
"I'm accompanying you."
The blond shook his head. "No you're not," he said.
Apollo looked hurt. "Why not?"
Starbuck's handsome features flashed angrily. "Because!"
"Because what?"
"There are a thousand reasons why you don't want to get involved in this Apollo, believe me!"
"And none of them compare to the one good reason why I will," Apollo responded stubbornly. "You obviously need help here Bucko."
"Do not!"
"When was the last time you took a shower, a shave… pulled a girl?"
Starbuck frowned. "And that has precisely what to do with you?"
"Come on! This is a Military Enquiry – you can't go in there stinking of ambrosia, looking like some sort of vagrant, off your game!"
"And when does how I look actually get in the way of the truth?"
"Come on Starbuck, humour me here! The investigator might be blonde and curvy, since when did you give up the opportunity to use the old Starbuck charm?"
For the first time Apollo saw the glimmer of the Starbuck he knew flash in the blue eyes in front of him. "Do they have female investigators?" he asked.
Apollo nodded, grabbing the positive as soon as he saw it. "Sure they do. Now let's go get you cleaned up and ready, Cadet!"
"Don't push it!" Starbuck warned, but he let Apollo manoeuvre him back towards the transit station. "Just my luck this investigator will be old and bald and hate orphans!" he moaned.
Captain Julius turned out to fit closer to Starbuck's rather jaundiced description than Apollo's more optimistic one. A flier all his life, he had been sidelined after a particularly nasty crash with had resulted in a third of his body suffering horrific burns, the pain of which would haunt him to his dying day. Not only that, he was bitter and resentful of any man who still had the opportunity to fly and he particularly hated cocksure cadets with a passion. He had been specifically chosen for this task and Apollo began to suspect as much as his interview with Starbuck progressed.
"Tell me in your own words what happened during the live fire exercise," Julius commanded in his nasally voice, eyes down not looking up from the screen before him.
Starbuck shrugged insolently. "Cadet Arieos got wasted by a robot drone," he drawled.
Apollo cringed. He had been up most of the night trying to get Starbuck to talk but the blond had remained tight-lipped, so Apollo had concentrated this morning on making sure he actually looked the part – gone was the stubble and unkempt hair; the Starbuck that had entered the room this morning looked as well turned out as he had for any function in his life be it military or social. But Apollo had no control over his friend's attitude which was hostile and distrustful at best.
Julius' eyes rose and bore into Starbuck and the blond stared back challengingly. "You witnessed it?" he asked.
Starbuck nodded. "I was in my viper nearby."
Julius looked at his computer screen, searching through the documentation with a click of a button. "Exactly 3 parsecs away. I have the reports from your viper here, Cadet. They show that you had the drone in your sights. Is that correct?"
Starbuck nodded reluctantly.
"Then why didn't you fire?"
"I did."
"Eventually; well wide of your target – a poor performance from the best shot in the Academy!"
"It was my first live fire experience."
"Felgercarb! You let a fellow cadet die!"
"No, I tried. I really did." Starbuck shook his head. "It was only a micron… I lost it… I…"
Julius cut in. "I've checked your heart rate, you were pressured sure but that was to be expected, it was as you correctly say, your first live fire experience. You were well below the average for such a situation, well restrained, under control, no more stressed than you showed in similar simulator situations. I put it to you, Cadet, you know you didn't lose anything but your courage out there and a damn fine Cadet, much loved son and a potentially great Warrior died because of it!"
Starbuck shook his head. "I hesitated, I…."
"And what happens the next time you hesitate in a combat situation?" Julius cut in with the ferocity of a terrier. "Who else will die because your lack of courage allows your finger to slip off the fire button? How can you ever expect to be taken seriously as a pilot? The risk is too great – you're a liability, Cadet. You lack the killer instinct of a Colonial Warrior and that is what I shall be putting in my report!" He stood up, chair scrapping across the polished floor.
Starbuck sat with his head bowed seemingly unable or unwilling to defend himself more.
"Is that it?" Apollo asked as Julius shut off his computer. "Aren't you going to ask him anything else?"
"I think everything has been asked and adequately answered, Lieutenant!" Julius retorted curtly. He moved to the door before turning back. "I served with your father, Apollo," he said. "A great man and you can be the same." He looked back to where Starbuck sat. "Take my advice and don't waste your time on the likes of him, leave him to descend back to the gutter from where he came. Lieutenant!" A swift salute and he was gone.
Apollo stood up and ran his hand through his hair. He sighed deeply and then moved to sit back down on the chair the investigator had recently vacated. Starbuck gulped and looked up at him through the strands of his long hair.
"Will you tell me what happened, Star?" Apollo asked finally.
"You heard what happened."
"No, I heard what you wanted the investigator to hear. I heard half truths and misinformation. I heard you rolling over like the coward Julius thinks you are. But I know different, don't I, Starbuck? I know many things about you, I know you aren't perfect, I know you're an over-confident, two-timing, arrogant, egocentric idiot but I also know you have never lacked courage, ever."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Starbuck muttered. "Remind me not to ask you to write my obituary!"
"It's not funny, Starbuck. I want some answers and I want them now!"
Starbuck sighed and sat back on his chair, nonchalantly lifting his legs to deposit his boots on the table with a crunch. "Have you ever thought it may be like the good Captain believes?" he said.
"No, I haven't," Apollo replied. "I've been having alarms go off in my head ever since I heard about this and quite frankly the 'good Captain's' method of investigation has made me even more uncomfortable."
"Oh," Starbuck sat up again abruptly, his eyes suddenly intense. "You came to the wrong place to be comfortable, Apollo. The stench of burning scapegoat is always going to feature low on the comfort scale!"
"Are you telling me you didn't do it, Starbuck?"
"Would that make you more comfortable?"
"Starbuck!"
"Apollo, you cannot help me now. If you don't believe anything else Captain Julius says then believe that – I am from the gutter. I should never have even entertained the idea I could get any higher, let alone fly between the stars. Look after yourself, let me go."
Apollo gulped, his Adams apple bobbing in his throat. "You see, you keep coming out with things like that and then I know that you are not being straight with me, Bucko, and that makes me angry because I thought we were friends. And I hoped that if you were ever in trouble you would ask me for help.
"You've done enough, Apollo. You and your family. You got me a second chance after I got bumped back over that stupid pyramid game. I know your father spoke up for me. Just accept I'm not worth it – I blew it again and this time I don't deserve any interventions from powerful people. My failure is my own, nobody else's and only I need to live with it."
Apollo bit his finger nervously as he pondered the other's words. What was Starbuck trying to tell him? Everything he said was about leaving and yet Apollo sensed deep in his soul this was just another mask the blond was hiding behind, deep inside he was screaming for help. It was there, but only so fleetingly, in the flash of his eyes, the tight contraction of his body, the shiver running through him, that all belied the words that were being said.
Apollo took a deep breath, followed a hunch that was unsettling him although he did not know why. "It was Arieos, the cadet that died," he said blandly.
It happened in an instant and it lasted for half that time but Apollo saw it before Starbuck managed to tamp his emotion down – the scared shake of the head, the tight gulp, a shudder of his hand as it feathered through his hair, and the fear on the too pale face. There and yet gone, but lasting long enough for Apollo to see all of the signs.
"Yeah," Starbuck answered, going for his normal effortless indifference but falling way too short this time.
Again Apollo sensed it, and decided to push on. "Nice kid, Arieos," he ventured. "Our families are friends; our fathers went through the Academy together. He's an influential guy, on the council, I believe. Arieos was his only son, I expect he is devastated."
Starbuck was leaning forward now, his hands on the table in front of him, he became very interested in examining his thumbs and he bit his lip in concentration. Apollo waited. "Starbuck?" he prompted when it became evident the blond was not going to respond of his own accord.
Blue eyes, wide and wild, flashed upwards then. "What do you want me to say, Apollo?" he spat, placing his hands flat on the table before him.
"I want you to tell me about Arieos, the Cadet who died. The same one that was responsible for reporting you to the Academy Commander over the pyramid game and getting you bumped back a yahren. The one who used his family's influence to escape punishment even though he was as guilty as you and retained his place in the yahren below us."
"You don't know that!" Starbuck snapped.
"Oh come on Starbuck! It's the worst kept secret in the Academy!"
Starbuck gulped. "It's just a coincidence," he muttered.
"Is it really? I think it's more than that. I think maybe you're being set up for this by a family that can trace its roots back to the very Lords of Kobol! I think they're hurting at the loss of their son and heir. I smell the stench of burning scapegoat! Is that what you meant, Starbuck?" He stood up leaning forcefully towards the blond. "Is that what's going on here?"
Apollo reared away then, almost fell over his chair and propped himself up against the wall as the righteous anger threatened to swell his muscles and steal his strength away. He turned back to Starbuck who in contrast, seemed to have shrunk into his chair somehow. "But what I can't understand, if all that is true, is why you're giving in to him. Why you're not even putting up a fight. How can you let the power of that family steal from you that which you've wanted all your life, that which you've worked so hard to achieve and that which you are so close to you can almost reach out and touch it. Why Starbuck, why?"
Starbuck snorted, his eyes again cast down to his fidgeting fingers. "That's quite a conspiracy theory," he said finally. "It's a pity that it's not true – makes me almost feel justified in what I did. The poor oppressed orphan denied the place in the world he has worked so hard for by the wicked establishment – if I ever need a defender, Apollo, I make sure to look you up."
"So it's not true?"
"No, it's not."
"Then what is, Starbuck?"
"You won't understand."
"Try me."
Starbuck let out a long, sad sigh. "You're a rich boy, Apollo. You, like Arieos, can trace your lineage back as far as forever. I'm a nothing from the Thorn Forest of Umbra – frak; I don't even know the day I was born, let alone who my parents were."
"And that has precisely nothing to do with anything!" Apollo growled angrily.
"All men are born equal," Starbuck said cynically. "But some are more equal than others, especially in the military. I don't blame you Apollo; it's true that no man understands inequality until he has suffered it. You never have and you probably never will. You are important, enough for boys like Arieos to notice you, to cherish you, to value your friendship…. It wasn't the same for me. Arieos and his cronies noticed me all right, but not for any of the right reasons."
"What do you mean?" Apollo asked.
"Shall I tell you how it was for me, Apollo? In this beautiful Academy built on the Warrior principles of honour, courage and integrity! Shall I tell you why I singled you out, made myself funny, cute and indispensable to you, Apollo? Why I found the need to hack into the Academy computer the night before we all joined, went through all of the Cadets' files and assigned myself to the two that I thought would give me the best protection – you and Boomer? For my own selfish benefit, to insure myself against the brutality and the humiliation I have faced all my life and I knew I would face here, like everywhere else."
Apollo looked shocked, his eyes narrowing. "I thought we were friends."
"We were, 'Pol," Starbuck said earnestly. "And nobody else in my whole life has touched me like you and Boom, Boom. You are the greatest friends I have ever had and you did exactly what I hoped you would – when I was with you I was accepted as one of you. I wasn't the penniless orphan who had no right to be here, people saw past the facts to the person beneath and it was enough! So good that I even believed that after you had gone I had done enough, had got a good enough reputation to survive." Starbuck hesitated, his eyes losing their intensity and he shuddered. "But I was fooling myself, measuring all men by the honourable principles that you had taught me, Apollo. Believing everything you said about honour and respect and comradeship. It didn't take long for Arieos and his cronies to disabuse me of that particular misunderstanding. What a fool I was!"
He sighed, ran his hand through his hair and slowly got up to stand looking forlornly out of the small window on to the lush grasslands of the Academy rolling before him to the twinkling blue river that bordered the land. "It really is paradise here," he said softly, leaning on the frame. "Pity you have to be a certain type of angel before they let you be a part of it."
"I'm not as naive as you think, Star," Apollo said. "I have grown up a lot, especially since I was posted but I had no idea that… what you describe…. was going on here. Why did you never tell me?"
Starbuck gulped. "Because I value our friendship – it is the most important thing I have ever had. I thought if I told you would hate me, see me as weak….. side with them. After all you have more in common with them than me."
"So why tell me now?"
"Because you won't leave me, you continue to let yourself get sucked into this and it will damage you, effect your career and I don't ever want to be the cause of that." He shook his head, "I never wanted you to hate me, 'Pol, never."
Apollo stood up then, moving to stand by his friend, he reached out to lay a supporting hand on the other's shoulder. "I never will," he said sincerely.
Starbuck pulled back, crossing his arms and physically retracting from the other's touch. "You will," he said firmly, eyes locked on Apollo's. "When you know the truth, when you see why I have to be punished, you will hate me. Besides it's too late, not even you and your family can save me from this mess now."
"Do you trust me, Star?"
"With my life."
"Then tell me it all. Tell me how it was for you. Help me to understand what brought you to the moment when you had that robot drone in your sights, you knew it was about to shoot down Arieos and you had your finger on the fire button."
Starbuck lurched away, his back was to Apollo when he said, "It won't do you any good."
"I think it will, Star. And more to the point, I think it will do you some good."
Starbuck took in a deep breath and sat down. "Arieos was the worst but he wasn't the only one, not by a long way," he began. "Since the first day I came to the Academy there have been incidents – names written on my kit, scratched on my helmet, my bed pissed on, shit in my locker…. stupid unimportant things to begin with but they got worse."
"I had no idea. Why did you never tell me? I shared a room with you for six yahrens for frak sake!"
"I didn't want you to know. I thought you would think less of me."
"Of you?" Apollo shook his head in exasperation. "Did Boomer know?"
"I think he knew some of it, suspected more – he found me once in the bushes after …." Starbuck stopped took a long swallow, "After I'd taken a fair beating. He helped me home, cleaned me up but I made him swear not to tell you."
"Why?"
"You are everything good that ever happened to me, you are a bright, shining …." Starbuck stopped, biting back the emotion that threatened to bubble up from deep inside him. "I didn't want to sully you, bring you into this, not by whining about my own inadequacies, my own weaknesses."
"Starbuck, you're a fool, I could have helped you. You should have trusted me; I would have never seen it as your weakness, the bastards who did it to you, they were the ones with the problem, not you. We could have sorted them out together –that's what friends are for!"
Starbuck's eyes had glazed over as a horrific memory took him, but then he shook his head firmly and stood up. He moved to the door pulled it open angrily and then turned back, his eyes wide in earnest. "I won't let you sacrifice your principles, not to save my worthless hide, everything you've worked for, all that you can be. I won't let you do that, I won't, Apollo!" And he was gone, his last heartfelt words hanging uselessly on the air.
Apollo did not follow Starbuck immediately instead he made some investigations of his own, using his newly acquired Lieutenant's stripes to access formerly inaccessible parts of the Academy and talking to as many acquaintances he could find as he gradually pieced together the full picture of what had happened from the pieces Starbuck had shared with him.
It was late when he returned to the barracks that were eerily empty, all the Cadets having left to go to their postings, all except one who sat on his bunk in the growing darkness, idly tossing his pyramid cards on to the blanket before him, picking them up and repeating the process, an almost empty bottle of ambrosia propped precariously between his legs. Starbuck looked up as Apollo was silhouetted in the doorway by the bright light from the corridor beyond.
"Can I come in?" Apollo asked.
Starbuck shrugged. "If it's to say goodbye, maybe," he responded dully.
"I'm not giving up on you, Bucko, and besides as I'm technically you're superior officer you can't stop me!"
Starbuck snorted. "Kick a guy when he's down – pull rank on me, why don't you?"
Apollo ignored the self pity that dripped from the words and stood in front of his friend. "I've been looking in your health records, Star," Apollo worked at ensuring his voice was gentle. "You seem to have had a number of accidents in the last yahren. Take off your tunic," he ordered voice suddenly acerbic.
Starbuck's head jerked upwards. "What did you say?"
"I said take your tunic off," Apollo repeated.
The blue eyes narrowed suspiciously. "That's what I thought," he muttered.
"Well, stand up and do it then, Cadet!"
Muttering to himself, Starbuck nonetheless found his muscles reacting as trained to the commanding tone in the other's voice. Before he realised what he was doing he was standing to attention before the Lieutenant. He growled in disgust and forced his body to slouch insubordinately.
Apollo ignored the rebellious glint in those deep eyes, stepped around the other man and reached to lift the back of Starbuck's tunic up. "Very well, I'll do it myself!" He let his breath whistle through his teeth as his eyes found what he sought.
Starbuck flinched but did nothing else as Apollo ran his hand over the puckered red scar that ran from below his friend's left shoulder blade to just above his pants. Gently the Lieutenant let the tunic fall back into place and moved back to stand in front of the blond Cadet. "Must have hurt," he said.
Starbuck's nostrils flared and his moist eyes looked away from Apollo's questioning stare. "Some," he admitted.
"Arieos?"
Starbuck gulped. "His idea," his voice was almost too quiet and Apollo leant in closer to him to hear the words that unenthusiastically spewed forth. "His cronies held me down while he made sure the poker was hot enough." Starbuck shuddered. "The smell of smouldering meat can be quite disgusting when you know it's you that burning!"
"There's a whole catalogue of injuries in your records," Apollo continued sympathetically, quelling the wave of nausea that threatened to rush up his gullet. "Broken limbs, fractured jaw, internal bruising, even a punctured lung. All ascribed as accidents."
"I had an unfortunate turn of luck," Starbuck spat bitterly, his eyes refusing to meet Apollo's still.
"Why didn't you do something, Starbuck?"
The blue eyes came up then, the same wildness widening them as before. "I filed seventeen complaints!"
"There's no record of them."
"Don't you get it?" Starbuck snorted, shook his head. "There wouldn't be, would there?"
"Sit down, Star," Apollo indicated the bunk. "Tell me how it was, please."
Starbuck took a long gulp of the ambrosia, and then wiped his hand across his mouth. "You have no idea what its like, 'Pol," he began slowly, taking his time to find the right words and to tamp down his racing emotions. "To be dominated, and to be so powerless; to have no where to turn. To know that whatever you do, wherever you go, he's waiting for you and no one is going to help you."
"Why didn't you do something?"
Starbuck snorted impatiently. "What do you think the pyramid game was all about? I just wanted it to stop, wanted him to leave me alone. I thought if I had something over him, something he owed me, it would give me the power I needed to get away from him." He shook his head. "How stupid was I? I just made it ten times worse! Isolated myself and lost my most powerful allies – not a good strategy, even the Umbra orphan could see that."
"But why not report him?" Apollo pressed. "Commander Adkins is a good man; he would never condone what was going on."
"Commander Adkins is way out of my league – I couldn't get close, couldn't get past Cortez, our wonderful Sergeant-at-Arms who fielded all my complaints, who made it perfectly clear that I was lucky to be here with my background, lucky to have a chance at being something more than I deserved, and lucky to be breathing the same air as men like Cadet Arieos." Starbuck stopped, drew in a shuddering breath. "So what if he and his cronies like to use me for their entertainment, I should be proud to be of service to a son of one of the great families."
"Starbuck, I am so sorry." Apollo reached across and laid a supportive hand on the other's shoulder.
Starbuck sniffed. "Not your fault," his voice was no more than a whisper as he ran his hand through his long hair.
"I should have seen," Apollo argued. "I shouldn't have left you alone here, alone to face it."
"Quit it, 'Pol!" Starbuck retorted. "It was none of your business. You weren't involved!" He sniffed again. "Anyway, when I realised there was no point in whining about it because no one was going to listen, I was living with it, making plans to avoid him, being successful enough because Arieos was nowhere near as smart as he thought he was!" Just a trace of the enduringly conceited trademark smile brightened his features. "I figured if I could make it through to graduation, well, it's a big universe out there. I need never see the spoilt, smug, little shit again." He stopped took a last mouthful of the liquor and then dropped the empty bottle to the bed in front of him, shaking his head regretfully.
Apollo waited, controlling his own curiosity, and his own anger, so he could hear everything his friend had to say.
"And then the live fire exercise happened." Starbuck looked up at Apollo. "I didn't mean it to happen, didn't plan it, kept well away from him in the preliminary skirmishes and then he was just there and……."
The barrack room was suddenly terrifyingly silent. It had gone dark outside and shadows seemed to have grown in the corners of the room, waiting with a threatening malignance to surge forward and claim any souls that may stray into their grasp. Despite himself Apollo shuddered as he remembered the warmth of camaraderie he had shared in this room with his fellow Cadets, frozen now into a naive memory by the chilling events Starbuck was revealing. Could it really have happened here? In this place that to Apollo was the epitome of all that was good in the military. Could it really be true that beneath the grandeur and the tradition, there dwelt a cruel, depraved monster that preyed on the least fortunate, the most vulnerable, those who lacked the power and the connections to fight back?
The young Lieutenant felt as if he tottered on the edge of a great chasm – behind him was everything he held dear, all he had been brought up to believe in; the power of the state, the search for truth and justice and the duty to protect the powerless, while before him lurched a black hole of bigotry, selfishness and prejudice. Could it really be that his view of the world had been so blinkered that he had failed to see that such immorality existed up until now? That it had taken all that Starbuck had suffered before he had realised that his pampered and overprotected experience of the world was far from that of most men?
As the horrifying revelation crashed around his head, Apollo sought desperately to find solid ground. In despair the thought hit him; should he even believe Starbuck? And then he dismissed his scepticism as quickly as it came; why would his friend tell an untruth now when he had been so reticent to speak of any of it at all?
The young blond was regarding him with wide eyes and not for the first time he surprised Apollo with his discerning reading of the situation by saying. "You should not judge all men by Arieos' standards, 'Pol, just like you should not judge them by your own. Believe me it only leads to complications."
"I don't know what you mean." It was Apollo's turn to look away from his friend's gaze and gulp awkwardly.
"Sure you do," Starbuck responded smoothly. "This is one of the reasons I didn't want you to know. You're sitting there suddenly doubting everything just because you didn't see what a little shit Arieos was. You think that somehow you've failed and that it's all your fault. Well, stop doubting yourself, Apollo, please. There are men like Arieos out there in your beloved military, sure. Many of them attracted by the violence, the power and the control but there are far more like you, like Commander Adkins, like your father, honourable men, who will prevail, who will not let evil triumph, good men who will overcome."
Apollo snorted. "And where do you fit in to this uncomplicated picture of the world, Starbuck?"
The young blond shrugged. "Me, I'm just an orphan from Umbra, neither wise nor evil. I had a great time here, learnt a lot, even punched above my weight for awhile but it's time I stopped dreaming. Found myself a proper job. I hear there's a great life to be had as a professional chancer on the luxury liners."
"Felgercarb!" Apollo snapped. "You were born to be a pilot, anything less than that will be a tragedy!"
"Not for the rest of the world, 'Pol. The rest of the world doesn't give a frak about me, which is why you should let this go. Walk away Apollo, take up your career, make a difference, be great …. Let me be, I'll find my way, always have." The smile was dazzling but forced.
"I am not letting them do this to you, Star! You did nothing wrong!"
Starbuck shook his head. "That's where you're wrong, 'Pol. I did. A man, a comrade died, and I could have stopped it but I didn't – that can't be right, surely!"
"Tell me, Star, what really happened."
Starbuck sighed, ran his hand through his hair, sweat beaded brightly on his forehead. "He was just there, in my sights with the drone zeroing on him. I didn't realise who it was at first, just hit the thrusters in pursuit, trying to get a fix on him like we'd been taught. And then I heard him over the 'com and I knew. Believe me 'Pol I still meant to save him, I lined the drone up, had my finger on the button and then….. then it all came back to me…. The way his lip used to curl in that haughty smile of pleasure of his, that smile when I saw it I knew it meant only pain for me, the brutal timbre of his voice when he ordered everyone about and the arrogant flash in his eye…. and the pain. The pain in so many different ways, the physical hurt, the mental anguish, the fearful expectation of what he would do to me and the utter powerlessness of being unable to get back at him. I could hear the laughter of his cronies in my ears as he taunted me, humiliated me, just because of who I was. And you know what? It suddenly became so obvious to me what sort of Warrior he would become, he would rise through the ranks, no doubt hard and fast, on the reputation of his father and his family like he had done in the past. He would climb over the bodies of his men, clawing his way over their bloated and bleeding corpses, uncaring of the accusation in their dead eyes, untouched by the horror he left in his wake, confident and careless in his glorious progress, selfish to excess. And I made a decision that I could not let it happen."
"You made a snap judgement, in a time of extreme stress and a man died," Apollo said, shaking his head. "And you told me earlier not to make judgements of men!"
Starbuck nodded. "I don't expect you or any one else to understand, I don't quite understand it myself." He was screwing his hands together in anguish, as he continued, "But I don't think I did it because of what he had done to me, it was the dangerous potential he had to do it to other men. I couldn't let him graduate, have that power over others. Do to them what he had done to me."
They were silent again, the shadows massing in the corner like malevolent beasts, endlessly patient and always waiting for a weakness.
"Now do you understand why I deserve their punishment, Apollo?" Starbuck asked. "I made a judgement I had no right to make and a man died."
Apollo felt a sudden wave of exhaustion wash through every one of his muscles. "By the Lords of Kobol, Bucko, I wish you hadn't," he groaned. "And they say you have no killer instinct – how wrong can they be?"
"You know I've thought about it a lot, obviously," Starbuck gave a shy but sheepish smile. "And I think I would make the same decision again."
"Don't make it any worse!" Apollo snorted, standing up as he gave in to the sudden craving for movement in his legs. "Still at least you're being honest with me, at last, and you've given me an idea that could get you off the hook."
"I don't want to get off the hook!" Starbuck pouted like a naughty schoolboy.
"Look me in the eye, Starbuck, and tell me you wouldn't give anything to get back into the cockpit again, better still to fly through the stars. I know you Starbuck and I know that you can't give it up, can you?" Starbuck looked uncomfortable, so Apollo continued, "These incidents that happened to you, were there any witnesses?"
"Sometimes, but….." Starbuck began to argue but Apollo cut him off. "Would they give statements, do you think?"
Starbuck shrugged. "Some, maybe, now that Arieos is dead. I wasn't the only one to suffer at his hands." He stared at Apollo then, his eyes narrowed. "I'm shocked Apollo," he disclosed, "Please tell me you're not contemplating what I think you're contemplating."
Apollo's smile was wicked. "Let's just say that while my honesty and integrity were rubbing off on you, Bucko, some of your methods were making the opposite journey. Besides, Commander Adkins is a good man, I am sure he will be as disturbed as me to hear what was going on in his Academy."
"But blackmail, Apollo, I never thought you had it in you!" Starbuck could not hide the fact that he was impressed at this new side his previously strait-laced friend was revealing.
Apollo snorted. "Blackmail is such a dirty word, Starbuck and blatantly not what I am suggesting. A quiet word here, a little evidence there. You'll be amazed what influence can do – that's what people call politics."
Starbuck hesitated. "But I have done wrong. I can't get away with this."
Apollo let out a guffaw. "I never thought I'd hear it from his own lips – the pragmatic Starbuck requesting punishment! Just goes to show how naive I am!" Apollo teased. "But rest assured, you will not escape punishment, Starbuck I am sure, no one gets away with something like this!"
…………………. "Starbuck?" Apollo forced his mind back to the present. The lights of the console flashed nonchalantly in front of him as they always did with no notion of the seething emotion that his memories had brought. "Starbuck," he repeated, his voice raw.
"Yo!" the voice came back eventually, still strained but strong.
"I'm sorry," Apollo began. "I shouldn't have said that, didn't think."
"Doesn't matter, 'Pol. Long time ago." There was a pause, before he continued, "I guess we've all grown up a lot since then!" Again a pause, followed by a rare admission, "Some of us had a lot further to go than others!" And then the sudden return of that irrepressible confidence, "Besides I remain the only man alive who graduated from the Academy three times!"
"I don't think it's anything to be proud of and it was only twice anyway, Bucko, you just took the final yahren three times!" Apollo smiled but it faltered as the memory of the horrific meeting he and Starbuck had endured with Commander Adkins flitted around his mind, when they had told the head of the Academy the truth and thereby saved the unruly blond's career, again. Adkins had been horrified by the bullying that Starbuck had suffered and likewise appalled by the blond's part in Arieos' death, which he maintained, no matter what the mitigation, could not go unpunished. In the end Starbuck had been bumped back a further yahren, thereby becoming the only person in the Academy history to take the final yahren three times! His final ultimate yahren was as uneventful as the previous two had been action-packed and he finally graduated to take up his first posting as an Ensign to the Battlestar Galactica, under the strict command of Commander Adama two yahren after Boomer and Apollo had left the Academy. Both managed to get the leave to attend his eventual graduation ceremony and the following party!
The events of Starbuck's first live fire exercise had never been discussed between the two friends in the intervening period, instead both had chosen to ignore them as events spiralled out of control and moved their lives on.
"Apollo," Starbuck's voice came over the com, unusually pensive.
"Yeah." Apollo felt a sudden desire not to re-examine old, long-healed wounds.
"I've been thinking."
"This is serious." Apollo dead-panned to hide his growing discomfort. "Did it hurt?"
A further pause and Apollo could picture his friend pursing his lips, his brow creased as he searched for the words he wanted to say. "I never said….."
"Starbuck, it doesn't matter." Apollo's tone was harsher than he meant it to be.
"I know but…." Much to Apollo's disquiet, Starbuck was sticking stubbornly to his task.
Apollo glanced around the skies, wondering if it was too much to hope for a stray Cylon patrol to sidetrack his partner from the road he seemed determined to take. "Forget it, Bucko, you'd have done the same for me."
"I wouldn't have needed to 'Pol, you would have never got into such a stupid situation!"
"The benefit of good breeding, buddy!" Apollo laughed. "Can't be underestimated!"
There was a disbelieving snort and a muttered, "Got to be good for something!" Before silence cracked over the com for long microns until Starbuck's unusually uncertain and serious voice came again. "Are we all right, Apollo?"
Apollo smiled, pushing the hurtful memories of a time so long ago that they were little more than a dream away with ease and concentrating on what was important. "Yes, Starbuck, we're fine. You're still the best pilot I've ever met and you still make appallingly bad judgements!"
"Just checking," Starbuck replied, the relief in his voice obvious. "Frak, we've been on this patrol too long! Race you back!" With that he gunned his thrusters and his viper leapt forward into the void.
Apollo shook his head. "Son of a daggit!" he muttered as he turned his own ship after Starbuck's fast retreating vessel. He muttered, "Promise me, you'll never change, Bucko!"
The End