Rating: M

Type: Angst/Adventure

Summary: Starbuck finds himself in a perilous situation, will he survive, will he even want to?

Warnings/Content: Bit gruesome and violent in parts maybe

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.

PARASITE

Part One

The seed awoke with no comprehension of what had gone before. One moment it did not exist, the next it did. It had no awareness of the terrific explosion, the overwhelming energy surge that woke it but it absorbed the life-giving gift immediately, bringing back the life that had lain dormant for so long.

It had spent many lifetimes waiting for a spark to wake it, waiting to be touched and to feel again. And, when the flash came, the intensity was almost too much for the seed to absorb it all. It bobbed on a sea of power and almost sank beneath. It wrestled to right itself, to retain its newfound being as the power washed over and through it. Then is an instant the surge was gone, the wave receded. And the seed felt instantly vulnerable and irresolute for, with consciousness, be it ever so slight, came the deep longing, the intense craving for more power… more strength… more life.

The seed did not yet have the capacity to think. It was driven by the most primeval instinct; that which dwells in all living things, the will to survive. It knew intuitively that it must find a place of safety, a place of warmth from which it could draw more power, where it could grow and flourish, now that its slumbering place had been destroyed.

Moving slowly the seed left the dry, useless cocoon. Senses, newly functioning, it focused on finding a source of power, of light in a dark, dangerous world. The seed knew nothing save it must find a host and quickly or all was lost. Scanning the surrounding area it sensed salvation; the pull towards the body that struggled from the twisted wreckage of metal and stone was irresistible. The seed edged forwards as the man finally extricated himself, fell to the ground with a pained moan and then lay still.

The seed saw the being as only a container of power; power it needed to survive. As swiftly as it could it moved toward him. It entered the nearest orifice, unaware of the sudden choking sounds, the twitching of the body; it basked in the warmth of life; the force that created and maintained the universe. The force the seed would take from this man in order to survive. It moved down past white teeth and deep red tongue that flicked slightly trying without success to halt its progress, down into the very depths of the being, drawn on by the promise of comfort.

It would not kill its host, not yet. It would change the being to better serve its purpose, its needs, while it dwelt deep inside, slowly growing and gaining strength until the time was right. In time the urge for procreation, although now only a distant thrum, would become uncontrollable… but not yet.

The seed, that was no longer a seed, began to germinate in the safe warmth of the host's body. It knew nothing; that would come later. For now it was content to simply grow in safety…..

"Hmpfh!"

Boomer allowed himself a smirk. It had been a long patrol and his wing mate had managed to control his boredom for most of the time. Now, as they drew nearer to the Galactica, the irrepressible spirit of Starbuck was once more beginning to surface.

"Got a problem, buddy?" Boomer asked.

Starbuck sighed longingly again. "Too long," he muttered.

"The list of people you owe?" Boomer asked smoothly.

"This frakking patrol," Starbuck responded gloomily. "Can't we go a little faster?"

"Nope, you heard the same orders I did, Bucko. Got to conserve fuel as best we can."

Instead of the whining response he was expecting, Boomer stiffened as Starbuck's voice, suddenly intense, came back to him. "Frak!"

"Bucko?"

"My panel's lighting up like the moons of Taurus. I'm losing power!"

Boomer shot a glance over to the viper on his left. A flume of blue flame was flashing beneath the belly of the sleek craft. "What happened?" he asked, flicking his own scanners to see if he had missed something.

"Dunno," Starbuck's voice was grainy and strained now. "One centon all was fine and then ….." He stopped exasperated. "I got major malfunction. It's like all my systems are fried. Did something hit me?"

Boomer pursed his lips. "Nothing that my scanners could sense. You gonna make it back to the Galactica?"

"Negative, Boom, Boom. I'm gonna have to put her down."

Boomer sighed, checking his scanner. "You got a choice of two planets," he began. "Nearest one is….

Starbuck's voice cut across the other lieutenant's. "Gotta be. I don't know how long I can hold it together."

"OK," Boomer responded, calmly efficient. "You got the co-ordinates?"

"Barely!" Starbuck's teeth were gritted as he spoke. "And Boom – hurry back. You know how lonely I get when I'm left by myself!"

"I know what trouble you get yourself into, Bucko! I can't believe you're downing yet another viper. The Commander said next time he was gonna deduct it from your pay!"

"Sssh!" Starbuck appreciated his friend's attempt at humour, be it weak and his voice was less tense as he replied. "Don't remind him. You know this secton's pay is already accounted for!"

"I know you lost it on another unbeatable system of yours that failed to live up to its billing!" Boomer snorted. "Be careful, Bucko!"

"You can bet on it, buddy!"

"I think I'll leave that to you, Starbuck!"

The conversation had been monitored by the Control Deck of the Galactica. Captain Apollo threw a questioning glance from his position behind Omega, to the Commander. Adama nodded. "Get a shuttle ready, Captain," he ordered. "I want the viper back as well as the miscreant flying it!"

Apollo smiled grimly, saluted and rushed to leave the room. The Commander turned back to concentrate on the voice coming through the speakers.

"Come on, baby," Starbuck muttered as his craft hit and bounced along the planet's atmosphere. All the lights on his control panel were flashing crazily at him. "Hold it together." There was silence for a few moments before his voice came again. "Frak!"

"What is your condition, Lieutenant?" Omega asked from the bridge, taking over from Boomer.

"Reverse thrusters won't fire," Starbuck responded tersely. "Dumping excess fuel – sorry Commander! I'm going in hot – gonna make a mess!"

Adama snorted. He hated this. The powerlessness of command, being stuck on the Galactica unable to influence events, as one of his men, and on this occasion one that he was particularly fond of, faced a peril far away. He clutched hold of the back of Omega's chair, knuckles as white as his face… praying silently….

Starbuck's voice crackled over the speakers again. "Planet is forested – looks like a soft landing from here. I'm going in…..!"

There was little noise to cut through the tense atmosphere of the bridge save for the crackle of some static from the link. Everyone waited, praying that all would be well. Then the silence was shattered by a devastating crash that reverberated through the overwrought air, followed by a dragging sound, all overlaid by a long agonized high pitched human scream. Everything was silenced by one last horrific smash and then the link went dead.

Adama closed his eyes, feeling the weight of responsibility and despair forcing down on him. For just a second he allowed himself to flounder under its pressure but then he forced it away. He opened clear blue eyes aware that everyone else in the Command Centre was staring at him, looking to him for direction.

"Get the shuttle going," he ordered to no one in particular. "Get Starbuck home."

TBC