Mad About Starbuck

by Aliana

A (seemingly endless) soap opera with lots of action, drama, romance, and plain craziness!

7. Episode 7

MAS - Episode 7 PART 1

After the stress of nearly losing both Starbuck and Reyana, it took nearly two sectons before I could really settle down and regain my perspective. And while they did not agree to stop flying as wingmates altogether, they did agree to do so a little less frequently. Captain Apollo decided that rotating everyone with whom they flew was a good tactical decision, anyway. It gave each squadron member the chance to become familiar with the different styles, as well as personalities of the other pilots. And understanding how one thinks can be a definite benefit in the heat of battle. So the end result was that Starbuck and Reyana flew together about once a secton. I could live with that. I didn't have a choice, anyway, and I felt selfish that I had been so upset about it in the first place. It really wasn't like me. Rey, of course, blamed it on hormones.

After that, life settled into a more normal, even cozy and domestic, routine. It had only taken a couple of centars after the rescue, as we rode back on the shuttle to the Fleet, for me to realize that something was different between Starbuck and Reyana. The looks that passed between them, the smiles. I knew right away that barriers had been torn down. And I was happy for them. Unbelievably, our threesome arrangement now felt comfortable to me.

One of the happiest moments for all three of us - or, at least, I had thought it had been a happy time for Starbuck - had been the 6-sectar checkup. After the standard exam, Dr. Salik had asked us something that we had been debating since he's mentioned it during the previous visit. Did we want to know the sex of the baby? The three of us sat in Dr. Salik's office, staring uncertainly at each other, while the doctor waited patiently, leaning against his desk, arms folded. We had gone both ways. On the one hand, waiting added to the excitement and "mystery" of being pregnant, of wondering whether it would be a boy or girl, and having that as almost the reward for enduring the labor. The doctor's pronouncement. But then again, knowing might help us all prepare emotionally. It was my fatalistic streak, however, that finally tipped the scale.

"Look," I said, glancing at Salik, then to Starbuck and Reyana, "I almost lost you both three sectars ago. If something happens before the baby's born, at least you'll both have *known.*"

"That's what I like about you," Reyana said sarcastically. "You're so optimistic." But then she had grinned. "But I can go with that. Let's find out!"

Starbuck had shrugged. Maybe that should have been a clue; he really did look rather uncomfortable, but I was too involved in thoughts about the baby to realize it, at that time.

"Right!" I said to Salik. "Tell us!" I knew that he already knew - had known for a long time, given all the tests he did each visit.

Salik gave Starbuck a wry smile. "Care to place a bet? Any hunches?"

We had shaken our heads. "Come on," I said at last, when he just kept smiling at us.

"A girl," Salik said softly.

"A girl," Starbuck repeated. He seemed to be in shock, almost, thinking about it. Reyana and I were hugging each other. We really didn't care, one way or the other, but it was exciting to know now. Perhaps we could even agree on a name.

Or not. We spent the next secton tossing names around, as did all of our friends. Boomer and the other pilots were merciless in teasing Starbuck, too. And perhaps they pegged exactly how he would feel, as she got to be older, when they described him locking her in the brig to protect her from all the man who tried to romance her - especially those with reputations like his!

Looking back, the warning signs had been there. And, to be honest, we had been actually been expecting it from the start. By seven sectars into the pregnancy, we knew Starbuck. And we knew that the longer we were together, the closer the day of the delivery got, the more our situation would look too "permanent" to the lieutenant. So when he stepped through the door of our quarters that evening and just stopped, staring at Reyana and me, who'd been sitting on the sofa debating baby names again, I knew exactly what was coming. Still, I felt a sinking, heavy feeling as I watched how he was running his hand through his hair and how his eyes kept glancing at the ceiling. Not a good sign, not a good sign, at all.

Reyana sensed it, too. "What's up?" she asked casually, but I saw her eyes narrowing.

"I, um, well," Starbuck said, looking everywhere but at us, "I need to, well. . . I gotta -"

"You're backing out, aren't you?" said Reyana, crossing her arms.

"No! Nothing like that!,'" said Starbuck. "Actually, Apollo asked me to help out, with, ah . . a project. Late centars. I may not have time to come by for a couple of days -"

Reyana drilled him with an unwavering gaze. "Look, it's 'us' your talking to. Just give it to us straight, okay? That was our agreement, remember? To always be honest with each other."

He exhaled loudly and finally forced the words out. "I just need some time alone. To make sure I'm ready for . . . this." He nodded towards my protruding belly. "You know, just a break. By myself. For a couple of days."

"Sure," I said, forcing a smile. "We *all* need our space from time to time. And better to take it now, before there's a screaming, demanding baby." I quipped, but then I winced after saying it, because Starbuck flashed me a look that I could only call 'terrified.'

Reyana stood and moved next to him, placing a hand on his arm. "It's okay," she said. "You do what you need to do." She gave him a sincere look, gazing into his troubled blue eyes. "We don't ever want you to feel 'trapped' or feel like you're being pressured. We'd never do that. Remember? No commitments. To us, at least."

"You're sure you're not mad?" he asked, still looking hesitant and uncertain.

"No," I said, climbing to my feet and walking over to stand next to Reyana. I took his hand, though, and placed it on my belly before I continued. "Neither Reyana nor I ever wanted to tie you down. That's why we didn't get sealed, if you recall. It's also why we love you so. Your charming, free nature." I bent in and up to kiss him lightly on the lips. "Do what you need to do."

Just as he was about to pull back his hand, though, I felt a fluttering wave beneath it. Our daughter. Neither of us said anything, but Starbuck's expression looked pained as he hugged and kissed Reyana briefly. Then he disappeared out the door.

I let out a long, slow breath as I stared at the closed door. "Well," I said finally, "I guess we should feel lucky that he stuck around as long as he did."

"He'll be back," Rey stated flatly. I wasn't sure if she felt that as a conviction or if she was just trying to reassure us both.

And I felt less than hopeful, especially when his "couple of days" stretched into over a secton without even a glimpse of him. For me, at least, since I had no reason to hang around the Blue Squadron pilots. I think it was worse for Reyana, since she had to see him during duty periods and even had to fly with him once, during that time.

**********

Yeah, I guess I should have seen the signs. I mean,

they were all there. Starbuck had been very quiet for

a couple of days. I knew he had a lot on his mind, so

I left it alone, which is pretty unusual for me.

Since Starbuck and I had resolved most of our

insecurities and restarted our relationship, I could

be kind of ruthless getting him to talk about things

that were bothering him or any little thing that was

on his mind. It was easy to tell at times that he

wanted to talk. Usually it didn't take much. Put an

ambrosia in one hand, a fumarello in the other, and

start rubbing his shoulders and I think Starbuck would

have told every one of his secrets. Hades, I hope the

Cylons never figure that out, or the fleet would be found

for sure.

But he had gone quiet, even on me, and for some reason

I knew to leave it alone. I also knew from the way

he'd been avoiding me on duty that something was up,

so I wasn't totally surprised when he walked in and

announced he needed some space. I could understand

that. I had needed space before. Sometimes all of

this can be a little overwhelming.

However, I could see that Aliana hadn't expected it.

Can't say that I blame her. Starbuck had been

spending most of his time with her lately. Now I can

see that he was avoiding me because I would have

eventually made him talk with my own special form of

torture. And perhaps he had been trying to avoid it

all himself. He's not exactly known for facing his

emotions, so I'm sure to Aliana he had given her his

best game face and had played along. But eventually

the game face even fails Starbuck.

I gave him two sectons. Two sectons before I'd track

his scrawny blonde hide down. He could go hang with

the bachelors as they belched and scratched their guts while

drinking ambrosia and shuffling cards. I'd give him

two sectons to get it out of his system. Okay, maybe

three, he might need some airing out after all that

belching, drinking and smoking. But I wasn't going to

give him much longer than that. It was time for

Starbuck to stop running from life.

My resolve to track him down however began to crumble

as I noticed how Starbuck went to great pains to avoid

me. He even somehow got Apollo to rearrange the duty

schedule so we didn't fly together. I didn't think

Apollo would let him get away with that. I almost

confronted Apollo on it when he let me know about the

change, but I just shook my head in resignation. I

guess I must have given a sigh or something because

Apollo actually asked me what was wrong. I almost

told him, I really did, but then at the last moment I

remembered that Apollo was Starbuck's best friend.

Through thick and thin those two had hung together for

a long time. It didn't feel right bringing Apollo

into this. I knew Apollo would have to take

Starbuck's side whether he agreed with it or not, just

like I would take Aliana's side even if I didn't agree

with it. It's what you did for a friend. So I just

shook my head and said thanks for letting me know

about the change.

But Boomer didn't miss a thing. He saw the change, he

saw the way Starbuck ducked out of briefings and gave

me a wide perimeter. He waited a few days to ask what

was going on, and Lords help me, but I couldn't resist

venting to Boomer. It wasn't so much for me that I

thought Starbuck should figure it out and pull it

together, but for Aliana and the baby. Boomer gave me

some good insight on Starbuck though that really

changed things for me. He simply told me to let him

go. That Starbuck was like sand, the harder you hung

onto him, the more he slipped away. But like sand, he

would always be there, in your shoes, in your hair, in

your sandwich. "If you don't want him there, well

there he'll be." Boomer said. It helped, and I

decided that if Starbuck could take some time and

space, well so could I.

In fact, I finally took Brie up on being her triad

partner and showing her a few things about the game.

I took Sheba's offer of heading over to see a play. I

even took up Giles offer for a drink in the Officers

Club. You know, he is very funny and really knows his

literature.

If it weren't for how upset Aliana was I could have

almost forgotten about Starbuck by then. He could

take his time and space and all his insecurities and

step out an airlock for all I cared. Okay, so I'm

lying, but hey, if Starbuck can pretend he doesn't

care, so can I.

Of course it was right after that innocent little

drink that the duty schedule suffered another last

minute change and I ended up flying a patrol with

Starbuck. I actually tried to get out of the patrol,

to trade with someone, but no one would trade. Jolly

mumbled something about having his fill of Starbuck's

attitude. Greenbean said he was mad at Starbuck for

cleaning him out at Pyramid and not spotting him for a

few hands. Giles wouldn't say anything, just a simple

"No way!" I tried asking Dietra, she said she

wouldn't fly with the louse until he shaped up. I

didn't bother asking any of the other gals. I was

stuck with him.

I was bound and determined to keep it professional.

Just "Yes sir, No sir." But of course all that

changed the second he sauntered into the launch bay

with that smile of his and twinkle in his eye. He

acted as if nothing was wrong, as if he hadn't been

gone a micron, let alone over a secton. We didn't

talk about much on that patrol, but it wasn't

professional either. It was easy for us to go back to

the friendly banter we had maintained for sectaurs

after Sire Uri's trial. We told jokes back and forth,

discussed pyramid strategies, and generally had a good

time. It wasn't until the end of the patrol that we

hit an awkward moment. In the middle of us laughing

over some joke he just blurted out, "How's Aliana?"

It sounded innocent enough, but I didn't let him get

away with it. I guess I could have just muttered a

"Fine" or a "Great", but for some reason I couldn't

lie for her.

"She misses you."

We both were quiet for the rest of the patrol. I

tried to pick the banter back up, told a joke or two

and we did end the patrol discussing a new 7-11

strategy I had heard about. But when we landed I

could tell that Starbuck hadn't forgotten what I said.

His eyes didn't twinkle, and he wasn't smiling. He

mumbled something about meeting Apollo and Boxey, and

headed off. You know, I almost saluted him just to

piss him off, but something inside me held off. I

just waved and told him I'd see him around. He

stopped at that, turned and said, "Yeah, I guess you

will." I swear he sounded sad.

So I guess I wasn't too surprised by Starbuck's

actions.

***********

He stayed away for over two sectons, it turned out. For the first secton, I had felt empty, incomplete. I realized just how attached I had become to his sly grin and shining blue eyes. I missed the banter between him and Reyana that had driven me crazy before. But most of all, I missed falling asleep against his warm chest on the nights that he had stayed in my quarters. My head kept telling me that I had known this time would come, that I had gotten into this relationship knowing how transient he was. Still, I spent more than one evening crying into my pillow as I lay in my bed, alone, feeling the pushes and squirms of our tiny new life. Surely he'd come back for her, at least. I hoped.

On other days, I felt like I had come to terms with what seemed to be our life as just Reyana and me and the upcoming little one. After all, that was the reason we had insisted on entering the relationship with the infamous Lieutenant Starbuck as a threesome. To support each other. Reyana, my strength, my sister, I knew I could count on.

Thus, I had a quirky feeling of relived events when, as Reyana and I were sitting once more on my sofa, debating baby names yet again, the door chimed, and after waiting for our acknowledgement, Starbuck stepped through into the room.

My heart skipped several beats. I stared at him, not daring to believe that he was back to stay, even for a while. And I could think of nothing more useful than, "Hi," to say.

"Mind if I came in?" he asked, looking around and avoiding all eye contact.

"No, sure," said Reyana. "Please, come sit down." She stood and motioned to where she had been sitting on the sofa. Starbuck sat down as close to the opposite end as possible. An awkward silence ensued. "Oh, for Sagan's sake!" Reyana finally exclaimed when neither he nor I would even look at each other. She put on an exaggerated face and said, "Hey! What's new, Lieutenant? What brings you to our humble abode? "

Starbuck gave her a sideways glance and rolled his eyes. But he smiled. "I just wanted to see how you were doing." He finally looked straight at me. "How've you been feeling? Figured out any names yet?"

"Fine, and no," I answered. Lords, but I just wasn't sure that I could let him back in, having just gotten used to him not being around.

"Hey! I got it!" he said. "How about Hermia? Or Prometheia?"

I glared at him. "Gone for two sectons, and that's all you can come up with?" I snapped. I felt confused, and for him to just drop in and act as if he'd never left was too much. So much for our honesty vow.

Starbuck went red in the face. "Uh, no, I thought they sounded nice. I mean -"

"Do you want something?" I asked, feeling totally uncomfortable.

He was fiddling with his fingers and the buckle on his holster. "I'd like . . . I'd like to, uh, well . . ." His voice trailed off.

"Yes?" I prompted, sounding less harsh.

Starbuck slid closer, at last, and took my hand. "I've missed you," he said softly. He looked up at Reyana. "I've missed you both." The hand slipped through my fingers and over my belly. "And I've missed her."

"Look, you don't have to do this--" I started to say.

"No, look, I mean it." Starbuck put a hand to my chin and guided my gaze towards his. "I spent the first secton trying to convince myself that I was happier alone and back with 'the boys.' I spent the other trying to get up the nerve to come back here."

"So what finally made you do it?" asked Reyana, sitting down, a bit hesitantly, I noticed, next to him but still keeping her distance.

"Let's see," Starbuck started counting off on his fingers. "Apollo, Boomer, Athena, Sheba, even Cassie." He smiled, the first comfortable smile of the evening. "They kept telling me what a coward I was being. And they were right." He put his hand back and gently massaged my bulging belly. "I'm sorry I disappeared like that," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I melted. He just did that to me, no matter how hard I tried to keep from caring. And he had the same effect with Rey, too, because we both turned, as if on cue, and hugged him, smothering him, squeezing, suddenly happy and grateful that the Fates were still taking care of us.

Gradually, over the next couple of sectons, or so, our lives returned to our version of "normal," with Starbuck drifting in and out, spending many of his evenings with us or taking one or even both of us out for a good time. I felt content like I never thought I could, ever. Within our limited, confining existence as refugees, I felt like we had achieved a near-perfect balance. Our biggest problem, now, was choosing a name for the baby. With just three sectons until the due date, we *still* could not agree.

But if that was our only disagreement, I could live with that. Life was sweet! What could possibly go wrong now?

*********** PART 2 It was supposed to be just a fun evening away from it all, playing cards and just relaxing on the Rising Star. One of our last nights out before life became a bit more complicated, since the baby was due in just three sectons. I guess we let our guard down because all had been so quiet for so long, and we had been having more fun than we'd had in quite awhile. We had been playing Pyramid and actually winning, more often than not, for nearly a centar. Starbuck had only had two ambrosas to my three fruit juices, but it had been enough to let him relax and truly enjoy himself, to let us both feel truly content and at ease with each other. As we played a combination of one of his systems and the infamous system that Rey and I had developed, we had been delighted to see a small pile of winnings slowly accumulating in front of us. And we were drawing peculiar looks, because we were laughing and joking as we analyzed each hand, out loud, so that even the dealer kept frowning at us, especially me, since while they used to the lieutenant occupying a space at the Pyramid tables, he wasn't usually accompanied by someone so . . . rotund. Plus, our analyses were consistently proving to be true.

As Starbuck tipped his glass to drain out the last drops of ambrosa, I jabbed him in the ribs. "Watch out," I said, chuckling, "or I'll have to carry you to the shuttle."

"Hey!" he said, "I'm as good at handling my ambrosa as I am at cards."

"That bad, huh?"

Starbuck made a face at me. "Besides, you said to relax, so I'm just 'following orders.'"

"Fine," I said, poking him with a finger, teasing, "but I may have to leave you here if I can't carry you!" We were just kidding, of course, because we both knew that he had to be fit to fly patrol the next day, making three glasses the limit.

The dealer was waiting not so patiently for us to make our next bet, so Starbuck broke off our banter to study the cards. As he pushed forward the cubits, a big, burley man joined the group at our Pyramid table. He slid in next to Starbuck, who was focused on our cards, and motioned to the dealer to be included in the next round. As the dealer slid him some cards, I was staring at him from the corner of my eye, wondering why he looked familiar.

"Too bad about the championship game last season," the man said, and it clicked. I finally recognized him as the security guard, Silva, who had single-handedly bashed up both Apollo and Starbuck during their semi-finals triad match, almost eight sectars ago.

"What?" Starbuck looked up, realized who was talking, and frowned. Even after that much time, it didn't take the lieutenant long to figure out what he was talking about. "Yeah, well," he muttered, 'those things happen." He made a point of staring at the cards after that, letting the guard know that he was not in the mood for any friendly conversations with him, not since the reason he and Apollo had lost the championship game that had followed three days later was because they had both been still recovering from being battered by Silva. Since then, they had met several times in games, and the guard had not played as aggressively as he had during that one semi-finals match. Still, I don't think that he and Starbuck had ever met face to face, outside of the triad court, since then.

"Look, I'm sorry I was so rough in that game we played," said Silva quietly, staring at his cards.

Starbuck shot him a glance, genuinely surprised. "You don't say."

"Yeah, look, I get carried away. And I forget to monitor how much force I'm using."

I gave the guard an intent gaze, studying not only his impressive height, but how solid he was. "You must spend a lot of time in the workout room?"

Silva glanced at me and nodded. "It's my way of letting off steam and getting away from all the stress. Unfortunately, triad does the same for me, and I get carried away, sometimes."

"Hey," said Starbuck, smiling now, "Forget it, okay? That was last season, anyway."

"Let me buy you a drink," said Silva, waving to the passing barman to refill the lieutenant's glass.

Starbuck nodded his thanks and sipped at the drink as we looked at our hand, more quietly, this time, running through our system.

The guard shrugged and studied the cards he had been dealt, and for several centons we played in silence. Eventually, he shot a glance at both the lieutenant and me again. "I think I've discovered a security leak," he said so quietly that Starbuck didn't react at first. "One of my superiors."

"What was that?" Starbuck turned to face the guard. "Did I hear you correctly?" he whispered.

"Yes," whispered Silva. "And I wasn't sure who to tell, or who to trust. Until I saw you."

"Why haven't you gone to the commander?"

"It's not that simple," said Silva, "and I just found out about this the other day. Look," he said, turning his cards over and glancing around the crowded chancery, "can we talk somewhere more private?"

"Yeah, sure." The lieutenant turned to me. "Why don't you keep playing. I'll be back -"

"This could take a while," Silva said. "It's rather complicated."

"Then we should take this to the commander." Starbuck sighed and turned his own cards over. I collected up the small pile of cubits that we had accumulated, and we all rose.

The docking lounge, as always, was filled with people waiting to depart. A glance at the monitor showed us that the next shuttle to the Galactica did not leave for another 20 centons. "Frak," muttered Starbuck, "we just missed the shuttle."

Silva was looking around nervously. "Look, I'm not sure I should just sit around here waiting. This is kind of delicate."

Starbuck frowned at him. "Do you think someone knows that you know?"

"Maybe," murmured Silva. "I'd feel better about this if we waited someplace more private."

"How about the triad courts?" said the lieutenant. "Then you can go ahead and give me some idea about what you know."

"Yeah, that might be better," said the guard, scanning the faces in the crowd around us.

"Let's go," said Starbuck. He took my hand as we walked back to the turbolift. As Silva briefly turned his back to us to press the lift pad, something caught my attention, something that didn't seem quite right about his appearance, but before I could figure it out, he was facing us again. Silva was dressed in civilian clothes, a loose-fitting tunic with no belt and trousers, and not his uniform, since he was obviously off duty, as were we. I wore a simple, sleeveless dress that flowed out over my bulging belly. Starbuck was in uniform - I had never seen him in civilian clothes, come to think of it, ever - but, since he was off duty, was unarmed..

What was it? What was it about the big guard that had triggered an alarm in my mind?

The door hissed open, and Silva moved aside for us to enter ahead of him. Since the lift was headed down to the triad courts, we were the only ones aboard when the doors closed again. Silva keyed the control pad, then stood against the wall, his hands behind his back as the lift started to move. The indicator light blinked downward. My heart skipped a beat, however, when the lift passed the level for the triad courts without stopping. The light blinked down one deck lower, where the cargo and maintenance ships docked.

Starbuck was eying him, suddenly tense and suspicious. An uneasy feeling that we had made a grave error in trusting him was building. Fast. When the lift stopped and the door slid open, the lieutenant did not move. Instead, he stepped in front of me. "What's going on?" he asked.

Up until that moment, the guard's expression had been neutral. But as I watched him from behind Starbuck, his face visible since he towered over the lieutenant by at least a head, Silva suddenly clenched his jaw and furrowed his brow. He made a movement, and Starbuck dived at him, striking him in the midriff with a shoulder tackle. Silva went "ooff," as he collided with the wall. The guard's right hand swung into view and I gasped. He now held a laser. And it clicked - the bulge under his shirt that had caught my attention! Starbuck saw it, too, because he grabbed for his wrist while Silva was momentarily surprised, the breath knocked out of him. That only lasted a micron, though, because in an instant, both men had tumbled to the floor of the lift, blocking the door, as they struggled for the weapon.

I looked around wildly for some way to call for help. The intercom in the lift was next to the keypad, which was on the other side of the wrestling match. If I could just get past them, I could find a different intercom out in the corridor. I hugged the wall but looked for a chance to slip past them. It never came. Silva was just too powerful for Starbuck to handle in hand-to-hand combat, and the fight was over only a few centons after it started. As the lieutenant struggled against the arm holding the laser, Silva took his other fist and simply slammed it into his face, knocking him backwards in a heap, stunned.

Silva leveled the laser at me before I could move to help Starbuck. 'Freeze!" he growled. He didn't have to tell me; I thought even my heart had stopped.

Starbuck was groaning and holding his head as he rolled to a sitting position. Blood was streaming from both his nose and a split lip. Silva grabbed my arm, yanking me next to him, and pointed the gun at the lieutenant, waiting for him to figure out just how lovely our situation had become. A moment later, breathing heavily, Starbuck looked up and locked his gaze with the burly guard but did not move. "What do you want?" he whispered, his voice raspy.

"You. Both of you." Silva spat out the words. "Now get up. Slowly." For emphasis, he jabbed the laser against my temple.

********* PART 3

Oh frak, oh frak, oh frak, was all that my mind could manage at that moment. Why was he doing this? What did he hope to accomplish by revealing his true nature? Oh, frak, I realized, Apollo and Boomer had said that they were close, very close to figuring out the security leak. They just had to check on a couple more links, make one more connection. But the smugglers must have sensed that they were getting close, too close to the truth. So they were ready to take desperate measures. Like kidnapping. Like overt threats. Like murder? In the blink of an eye, without hesitation, I knew they could kill again. If it suited their purposes. Or if they were desperate or felt trapped. I was watching Starbuck, my eyes wide with fear, my heart pounding in my ears. The lieutenant climbed slowly, unsteadily, to his feet, glaring at Silva.

"Now walk!" the guard growled, nodding towards the open door. Starbuck had no choice but to comply. Silva pushed me on in front of him, the laser now poking into my side. Instinctively, fearfully, I cradled my belly with my hands as I followed the lieutenant. "Go to the end of the corridor and turn left!" growled the guard. "And don't look back!"

Starbuck straightened his shoulders and walked slowly in the indicated direction. Lords, it must have taken all of his will to not look behind him, because I knew he was worried, very worried, about us. But he didn't dare do anything that would put us in any further danger. Not that we weren't about as deep in trouble as we could get. As if sensing my tension, the little one squirmed and wiggled. I rubbed my side, soothing myself as much as the baby. At the end of the passage, Starbuck turned the corner and deliberately stared in our direction. Silva motioned for him to keep going. In a few more paces, we were at the entrance to the cargo bay. Starbuck stopped at the closed door and turned to face us. I could see the veins on his neck bulging, and he was sweating from the tension. He wiped at his face with his sleeve, smearing blood across his cheek.

"Now," Silva said casually, "we are going to board the Atoka, which is off to your right. You are going to walk quietly and do *nothing* that might draw attention to us, if you wish for no one to be hurt." He studied the lieutenant's bloody face for a micron. "Oh, and wipe off that blood, please."

Starbuck rolled his eyes but ran his sleeve across his face several times until Silva was satisfied. Then the guard nodded towards the pad that activated the door to the cargo bay. "Remember," he said holding up the laser and then deliberately pointing it against my temple again, "do *nothing* that might remotely make anyone suspicious."

I was trembling, and - oh, Lords! - Starbuck looked scared, unlike I had ever seen him before. He kept glancing from the laser to me to our baby and swallowing as if his mouth were dry. I knew how he felt.

"Move!" Silva hissed.

Starbuck took a deep breath and palmed the pad. The door swooshed open, and he stepped through, walking slowly, carefully. He glanced around until he spotted the cargo ship, The Atoka. Silva slid the laser out of sight between him and my back, with the barrel sticking painfully against my spine. He pushed me forward. By no stretch of the imagination did we look "normal" or "casual," but the few technicians in the cargo bay were on the other side, occupied. We moved unnoticed to the guard's ship. *Oh, thank the Lords!* I thought to myself, because I did not want to find out how Silva would have reacted had, despite our every effort to comply with him, someone noticed us. For better or for worse, no one did. Starbuck stopped in front of the Atoka's entry portal, unmoving, waiting for further instructions.

Without a word, Silva punched in the access code for the ship, and, once the ramp had thumped to the ground, gave the lieutenant a push with the laser to tell him to move. Hands held clearly visible, away from his sides, Starbuck climbed aboard the Atoka. I don't think he had ever been this compliant, this quiet, ever, in any of the situations he had found himself, including being captured by Cylons on two different occasions; it went against his nature. But he didn't dare make even the slightest quip or comment, he knew. We had an innocent to protect. At any cost. Silva could have ordered him to shoot himself, and . . . if it meant saving us, he would have done it. I was fighting to remain steady as these thoughts raced through my mind, as we climbed the ramp to the ship. I was breathing in slow, controlled breaths. I was worried - no, I was terrified. Because Silva and the people with whom he was working were ruthless. Human life meant nothing to them anymore. I could sense the tone of victory, of superiority, in Silva's voice every time he gave a direction. I felt a deep dread at what we were about to face. And saw no possible escape. We were at their complete mercy.

We were in the ship's cargo hold. A sealed door led, presumably, to the cockpit. The hold was about half full, containing a variety of crates, containers, spare parts, and equipment. Silva ordered the lieutenant to sit down on a crate and to put his hands on his knees. Then he had me do the same, sitting next to Starbuck. With the laser leveled at us both, Silva backed up to where he was out of our reach but could shoot without missing. He pulled out a small communicator. "Ripley? Do you copy?"

A moment later a voice answered, "I copy." Ripley . . . the name rang a bell.

"I need you on the Atoka. Now. Operation Snare has been activated and is underway. Repeat, I need you now."

I felt lightheaded. So they had been planning something like this for . . . who knows how long. And we had walked right into the trap, blindly, foolishly. I felt so stupid! We should have known, somehow, that the guard was not to be trusted. I just hoped our mistake would not prove to be fatal.

Once Ripley arrived, the two secured our hands behind our backs with electrical cord and then moved the crates so that they could secure us to fasteners on the side of the cargo hold, ones meant for securing the load during transit. A horrible thought flashed through my mind; did they value our lives any more - or probably less -- than one of their shipments of illegal goods? Finally satisfied that we were immobile, Ripley and Silva disappeared into the cockpit, leaving us alone for the first time since this ordeal had begun. I closed my eyes and fought back the tears. Crying would do us no good, no good, no good!

"I'm sorry," I heard Starbuck's hoarse whisper. "I'm sorry. I can't believe that I was so stupid! So stupid!" His own stress was coming out in anger. At himself

"No," I said, opening my eyes to look at him. He sat to my right, about a metron away. I read the agony in his face; he was blaming himself. I understood but certainly did not blame him. "It's not your fault. I mean, who would ever have imagined that they . . . they'd -" I stopped to gulp back those blasted tears. "That they'd do something like this in plain sight on the Rising Star."

"No," hissed Starbuck. "I should have been suspicious from the start! It's so obvious now, so obvious! How could I *ever* have let my guard down like that!"

"Starbuck," I whispered, feeling the tears slip out anyway. "You're only human, not some automated warrior. We're not perfect. Lords, but we were having fun! And - we made a mistake."

"I'll kill him," Starbuck growled. "Somehow, somehow, I'll kill him. If they hurt you -"

"They need us alive, I'd guess," I said, trying to reassure myself as much as him. He could have easily have shot us both in that lift. They want hostages. Hostages . . ." Oh, frak.

"I'll kill them all!" He spat out the words.

The shuttle ride lasted probably thirty centons, almost, long enough so that my arms were stiff and my back aching by the time we felt it decelerate and come to a stop. We had said very little during that time. At one point, Starbuck had struggled and strained against the cords, trying desperately to pull free. Lords, I was terrified, but saw no option other than to wait, wait to see what they wanted and wait for a better chance, if we ever got one, to get free. This just didn't seem like a very good time. I'd finally whispered, "And just what do you plan to do if you get free?"

"I don't know!" Oh, great, now we were snapping at each other. "Wait for someone to come through that door and jump him."

"Face it," I said, angry and suddenly afraid that Starbuck's own rage would make him reckless. "He's too big for you! And he's got the laser, remember?"

Starbuck stopped struggling to glare at me. "Well, I can't just do nothing!"

I just glared in return, feeling hot tears stinging my eyes. Starbuck saw them, too. "Frak," he muttered, leaning back against the wall. "You're right, you're right. I'm sorry. I'm sorry . . ."

"They must need us, right?" I asked, the fear starting to grip me, the panic finally taking a hold. "They must want us alive?"

Starbuck heard the edge to my voice. "Yes, yes," he said. "You're right about that, too. Whatever it is that they've got planned, they want us alive. Otherwise, Silva would have just shot us in that lift. So, yeah, we've still got a chance. We've still got a chance . . ." He repeated the words several more times, calming himself as much as me. I knew he was rattled, though, more so than if it had just been him. Dealing with brutal Cylons was one thing; we all could brace ourselves for that. But here, we were facing humans who were ruthless. Humans. And would they value the unborn life at all? Or would our child be just one more pawn in whatever game they had in mind? It was her life that had Starbuck, the seasoned warrior, so shaken and had me terrified.

After that, we lapsed into silence, for the most part. Starbuck had finally settled down enough to think logically and to call on his yahrens of training. I watched him taking controlled breaths, saw the firm set to his jaw and the cold fire in his eyes. When he looked at me, though, he tried to smile. "Everything will be fine," he said, smiling slightly. "It may not seem like it now, but we've still got the 'Starbuck luck' on our side. It's a bit unpredictable -"

I had to smile at that.

"But it's gotten me this far. It'll get us through this. Yes, it will . . ."

Maybe, maybe. Think positive. Think positive. Yeah, I was positive that we were in trouble. Big trouble. And would anyone be able to find us when we turned up missing? And when would they notice? Not until the morning. Not until Reyana realized that I was going to miss my classes. And that Starbuck was late for his patrol. And that we hadn't just spent the night in a private room on the Rising Star. And that wouldn't happen until after 0900. Almost twelve centars from now. A lot could happen in twelve centars, not the least being that they'd have no idea where we were, since we were no longer on the Rising Star. Yeah, they could track all the shuttles that had left, but that'd take another several centars - stop!! I squeezed my eyes shut and focused on breathing. In, two, three four, five . . . out, two three, four, five . . . The little one gave a wiggle, pushing a heel against my side. I smiled briefly, faintly, as I continued to breath.

******* PART 4 The silence once the engines shut down, leaving a hum in the ears, weighed heavily on us. We looked at each other but said nothing. The loud hiss of the cockpit door startled me. I jumped and snapped my head in that direction. My breathing was still under control, but my heart was pounding again. The thumping must have doubled in intensity when Silva strolled through, his laser leveled at us, his expression assured and relaxed, cocky, even. Ripley trailed behind him, dwarfed by the guard. He slipped past him to unfasten us from the wall while Silva covered him. Once I was free, the guard grabbed my arm and dragged me to my feet. My knees were stiff and almost gave way. He yanked me up and held me next to him. Starbuck climbed to his feet slowly. Silva nodded towards his helper. "Follow him," he said, simply.

Ripley activated the exit ramp, and once it was down, headed out of the shuttle. Starbuck, his expression stoic, hesitated only briefly before following the other man. Silva pulled me along with him down the ramp once the other two had exited. His fingers were biting into my arm, and I had to almost run to keep pace with his long strides. I was short to begin with; my head barely reached his chest. He seemed oblivious to my awkwardness, though, as I stumbled along. I tried to take stock of our surroundings but had to concentrate on my footing, too.

I did notice that we were in a cramped cargo bay that was cluttered with . . . junk. Old, discarded items, empty, torn apart crates, broken bits and pieces of various things. All this should have been hauled off long ago to be recycled, so something wasn't right here.. I had no idea where we might be, though.

We entered a turbo lift at the back of the bay and waited in silence for it to whir noisily to its destination. Level 3 out of five, I noticed, glancing at the control panel. Better to keep my mind focused on any detail than what they might have planned for us. Thank the Lords for warrior training, because I had been running it through my head for the past ten centons. Remain calm. Study every detail. Examine your surroundings. Analyze, analyze, analyze.

The door creaked open to reveal a narrow corridor with what must have been living quarters, because every 10 metrons, or so, was a door on each side. Ripley led us down to almost the last door on the left. After keying the chime, it hissed open after a few microns. Starbuck followed the man inside. Silva pushed me in ahead of him. My arm felt numb and bruised from his big hand when he finally let go.

"Holy, frak," muttered Starbuck gazing around the small chamber. In stark contrast with rest of this old freighter, this room was lavishly decorated, with elegant tapestries, intricately engraved and finely crafted artifacts made from precious metallurgical elements, regally displayed jewels and jewelry, and much more. It looked like a tiny, one-roomed palace. And in the center of all of this was a bed so large that it almost filled the room, leaving just enough walking space on the three sides. It had a canopy draped with what appeared to be fabrics made of real silk and fine lace. A beautiful quilted cover stretched across the mattress, with four matching pillows arranged at the head. Their design appeared to be a hand- painted, elegant design showing a Caprican beach at sunset. The colors flowed and blended beautifully; I had never, even before the Great Destruction, seen anything like it.

"I see you've brought them." I let my eyes finally scan the figure reclining across the bed - a woman, dressed in a flowing gown of an equally exquisite, translucent, pale blue material. She appeared to be around 50 yahrens old, with fading blonde hair, a figure that any woman would covet, and pleasant features. Very attractive. Except the blue eyes that met my gaze were cold, icy cold, and as sharp as a steel blade. They sent a shiver down my spine.

With my hands still tied behind my back, my arms and shoulders were aching, my back was burning, and my feet were feeling every last bit of extra weight I now carried. All I wanted to do was cry, because I felt exhausted, exhausted. Starbuck glanced at me and must have noticed how shaky I was at this point. Before either Silva or Ripley could respond to the woman's statement, the lieutenant took a step towards the bed. "Look, lady!" he snapped, "I don't know what you want, but can't you see she's tired!"

Silva grabbed Starbuck by his arm and yanked him back. "Shut up!" he growled. He looked ready to strike him.

"No, no!" purred the woman. "He's quite right. Undo their bindings and let them have a seat."

"Her, maybe," said Silva. He nodded towards the lieutenant. "But I don't trust the warrior. It's safer to keep him tied up."

The woman gave the guard a look that could melt steel. "Untie them both," she said evenly, "and let them sit down."

Without another word, the men untied the cords and pulled up two chairs next to the bed. Rubbing our stiff limbs, Starbuck and I sat. I glanced at the lieutenant and noticed that he had a smile on his face, one of those he uses when he about to pour on the charm and try to con someone out of something. I wasn't sure if that was a good idea in this case.

"There!" she said after we had settled into our seats, and Ripley and Silva stood back near the door. She eased herself into a sitting position on the bed, legs crossed. "Now, I imagine you're wondering why we brought you here." Her voice was lilting.

"You might say that," said Starbuck, still smiling. "And I don't believe we had the pleasure of meeting before, Siress, ah . . ."

"Siress Luwana,:" she said, "and no, we haven't had the pleasure." She was positively purring again. And she was studying Starbuck. "You might say we decided it's time for a change."

"Really," said the lieutenant. "And what might that be?" He gazed around the elegantly furnished room. "You have a beautiful place, you know."

"I certainly do. But it's become a bit too cramped." She leaned back, stretching like a feline, supporting herself with her arms and arching her chest upward. The effect was not lost on the men in the room. "So we've decided this Fleet no longer serves our purposes. We think we'd be better off taking our humble, yet efficient, freighter to an inhabitable planet and starting a new life. We will, of course need supplies to last until we can become established." She tilted her head to gaze at Starbuck. "And you, my dear lieutenant, will explain all of this to your commander, convince him that it will be well worth it to fulfill our requests."

I was trying to picture her as a founding pioneer of a new colony, but the image was too incongruous with our present surroundings. However, I supposed that faced with the prospect of losing it all and ending up on the Prison Barge, that even she could adapt to the hardships of settling a new planet.

"But that will wait until the morning," she said, slipping to the edge of the bed. She was studying Starbuck again. "I'm a fan of yours," she said at length, letting her eyes sweep over him. "I've watched you and Captain Apollo play triad since they established the league." She stood and approached him, flowing, like an evil witch, I thought to myself. She put a finger under his chin and lifted it so that she could examine the purple, splotchy bruise on his cheek and his puffy lip. "Silva," she said with mock concern, "was this really necessary?"

The guard didn't bother to answer, because it was obvious that she was playing with him, with them, with us all.

She let her finger slide down Starbuck's jaw before she stepped back a bit and sat once more on the edge of the bed. The lieutenant's expression had become wary; even he must have decided she was dangerous, very dangerous. "What a pity about your championship game last season," she said, finally. "Must have been rough playing with all of those bruises from your previous game, I'd imagine." She cast a meaningful look at Silva. The guard smirked. "But the profit from your loss was quite worth it, even if I had to watch my favorite two players lose. Such a shame . . ."

Starbuck slipped the smile back in place. "You planned that, didn't you?" he said, looking from Silva to the Siress. "You had the big taurus, here, make sure that we were nice and bruised up for that championship match."

I watched Silva bristle at the insult, and Luwana smiled at his reaction. "Indeed," she said. "And it worked nicely, I might add." The woman stretched again, letting the fabric of her gown slid up her legs. Way up her legs. Starbuck crossed his arms and stared resolutely at her face, unmoved. Oh, Lords, I thought to myself. It's a game, one he can't possibly win, whether he goes along with her, flatters her, or tries to ignore her. But, by the Lords of Kobol, don't challenge her.

She was, indeed, evil. Twisted, sadistic, and mad, even. With her eyes suddenly on me, the she-lupus flowed to her feet again, moving in graceful, calculated motions. She let a hand glide over the lieutenant's shoulder, across his jaw, then through his hair as she stepped behind him. Then the witch leaned down to slowly kiss his ear. I watched him tense but, otherwise, ignore her. She straightened and a cold smile spread across her lips. "Bothers you, does it?" she said to me. "Might be interesting to see, though," she purred, not waiting for an answer, "just how long it takes until he gives in." She ran her fingers down his neck and under the collar of his tunic. "Hm, nice," she murmured to herself. "He *would* give in," she said to me. "He's a male. They're all the same."

I felt a cold chill run through me. I tried to stay still and expressionless; although, I'm not sure which would have been better. Perhaps the end result would have been the same had I started screaming in protest. Or not. Perhaps she would have then actually tried to prove her point. And maybe that would have been preferable to what happened next.

When neither of us moved or reacted, Luwana, her displeasure evident in her knitted brow, stepped back. She chewed her lip a moment, then the smile returned. She led her gaze glide over to the husky guard. "I do love a good triad game," she said. "I suggest a rematch. Except," she said with feigned disappointment, "we don't have a ball or a court here. What a shame." She appeared to reflect for a moment, but it was obviously all for show. "I know!" she said. "Let's just have a wrestling match. That's all triad really is, you know, only they added a ball for a little diversity. It's still just about force. Brutal, animal force."

*What's she talking about?* I thought wildly to myself. She wouldn't, she wouldn't! They couldn't possibly do that in her elegant but still cramped quarters. Of course, she had a solution to that little problem.

"Bring them, boys," Luwana said, and she strolled out of her room.

No, I thought, this isn't happening. Silva tossed Ripley the laser, and the smaller man grabbed my arm. Then the guard pulled Starbuck to his feet, twisting his arm behind his back until he grimaced. They pushed and pulled us, none to gently, out into the corridor. Ripley kept the laser pressed against my spine as we headed back to the turbo lift.

Several centons later, we emerged onto the fifth and lowest level. It seemed to be where all of the ships systems were located. The space in front of the turbolift, however, was a semi circle of empty deck surrounded by rows of circuits and panels, with three passageways filled with vital equipment and electronics branching off. The clear space was just large enough to suit Siress Luwana's twisted needs. Silva released Starbuck, pushing him forward into the open area, while Ripley held me next to the siress, the laser resting carelessly against my side. The guard stood waiting, watching Luwana, who had a hand to her lips, looking thoughtful.

This is insane, I thought, insane! Is she so bored, so demented, that she would really have the two fight? For what purpose, other than for the sight of blood? I felt queasy and horrified.

Luwana finally straightened and smirked at Starbuck. "Aren't you warriors trained in hand-to-hand combat?" Starbuck just stared at her. "I know Silva, here, was trained as part of the Colonial security guard program. I wonder," she said, her voice lilting again, "who has the better program? Silva tells me how the warriors like to put down the 'black shirts,' as you call them. Perhaps here's your chance to show just how superior your Colonial warrior training really is, my dear lieutenant." She nodded and the guard stepped out towards Starbuck.

"This is ludicrous!" snapped Starbuck. "I'm not going to fight just for your sick amusement!"

"Oh, really?" The siress arched an eyebrow.

Silva moved suddenly, rushing at him, aiming to tackle. The lieutenant dodged, avoiding him, and the guard stumbled, falling to one knee on the deck. As he climbed to his feet, he looked angry, very angry. He came at Starbuck again, and again the lieutenant was able to stay out of his way. Silva was swinging now, trying to punch - forget about wrestling! This was going to be an all-out slugging match the way the guard was trying to fight. His size, though, was a hindrance for the moment, because Starbuck was skillfully maneuvering around all of his approaches, using the guard's rage to his advantage as he stayed focused and able to calculate, so far, what he would do next. They continued like this or several centons. And Luwana, I noticed with a glance, was growing increasingly dissatisfied.

"Stop!" she shouted at the guard, finally. Silva turned to look at her. Starbuck, breathing in heavy, deep breaths, kept his eye on him. "You *will* fight," she hissed.

Starbuck looked at her. "No, I won't," he stated.

The siress was blind with rage at his blunt refusal. She grabbed the laser from Ripley and jammed it against my temple. Oh, Lords. . . "Fight!" she growled in a low, menacing voice. "Or I'll pull the trigger."

Starbuck's eyes went wide for a micron and he inhaled sharply. She would do it, I knew it. And he knew it, too. She would pull the trigger. "All right!" he shouted, furious. "Just put that laser away!"

Luwana pulled it back and let it dangle at her side, a satisfied smile on her lips. "Fine. So long as you show me that you are *trying.*"

Oh no, oh no, oh no . . . Don't do this! I was screaming the words in my head. I felt the queasiness growing, felt a throbbing in my head. No, oh no!

Starbuck clenched his teeth as Silva approached him again, and the two circled each other for a moment. Just when Luwana looked ready to complain, the lieutenant dove at the guard. The momentum sent them tumbling backwards. Oh, but now Silva had him in his grasp! This time his punches connected. This was absolute madness! The guard was simply too big, too powerful. Starbuck finally pulled free and was able to dodge the next series of blows. But he had to move back in. Or risk Luwana's unpredictable reaction. This time, after dodging under and behind Silva, Starbuck tried to knock him from behind with a shoulder tackle to the kidneys. But instead of being knocked down, the guard stumbled forward a step, turned quickly, and caught Starbuck around the waist. He started pounding with his fist, pounding . . .

"No!!" I screamed and tried to move forward. Ripley held me back. "No!! No!! NO!!" I was out of control. I couldn't watch another micron of this. It was too much, too much!! My head was spinning as I continued to shout. I was vaguely aware that Silva had stopped his barrage to stare at me. My ears were ringing, my heart pounding. My vision splintered like shattered glass and I collapsed to the deck.

************* PART 5 The first sensation that broke through the darkness was the warm, tender touch of a hand brushing across my forehead. Warm, so warm and comforting. I was cuddled next to Starbuck; I recognized his scent. I huddled closer and opened my eyes. It was then that I realized that we were not back in our quarters. I sat up with a start.

"Whoa, whoa, take it easy," Starbuck said, pulling me back against him.

I gripped him tightly, now, as I stared at the unfamiliar surroundings. We were on a tattered, old mattress in a tiny, sparsely furnished room. It had a rickety-looking chair set back against the wall and a well-worn end table, and that was it. Where were we? Where were we? "What? What's -"

"Shhh," said Starbuck, cradling me. "Do you remember what's going on? We're the 'guests' right now of the wonderful Siress Luwana."

Oh, frak and felgercarb! Then that hadn't just been a nightmare. It was the reality. But --? I pulled back to look at Starbuck. "Are you okay?" I studied him, because I knew he would not tell me the truth. The left side of his face was swollen and bruised. He had dried blood on his chin and tunic from a jagged tear through his lower lip. And as I moved to sit up, pushing against him, he winced.

"I'll be okay,' he answered. Oh, Lords, not "I'm fine." That told me that he was hurting.

"What. . . what happened? I guess I fainted?"

"Yeah, you did," he said, moving gingerly around to find a more comfortable position in which to sit. "And lucky for me, I think." He gave me a weak smile. "See, I said you could count on the 'Starbuck luck' -"

"You call this lucky??" I stared at him, incredulous.

"Well, considering the alternative . . . yeah, I do." He coughed slightly and grabbed at his side.

"What happened after I passed out?"

He gave me a lopsided grin. "I panicked. Silva panicked. Even Siress Luwana looked worried. And she had the sense, at least, to end that crazy fight and give us these quarters." He looked at me, suddenly serious, suddenly frightened. "Are you okay? And how's . . .?"

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, evaluating how I felt, if anything felt different or unusual. The little one wiggled and squirmed. I felt a foot roll across my abdomen. All her normal activity. Taking Starbuck's hand, I placed it on top of my belly. A moment later, he, too, felt the reassuring wave of movement. He smiled and I saw tears glistening in his eyes. "She's fine," I whispered, crying, too. "She's fine."

Starbuck pulled me back against him, and we leaned against the cold wall, embracing each other, letting the emotions flow for now. We could be strong later, whenever Siress Luwana decided it was time for more of her depraved games. Eventually, as we lay down, facing each other on our sides so that the baby was cradled between us, almost, we must have finally drifted off to sleep.

****** I don't know for how long I actually slept, but when I woke up, Starbuck was sitting in the chair, waiting. His face looked even more swollen and colorful, I noticed, but the blood was gone. I sat up, looking around our tiny room again. "Is there . . .?" I asked, realizing just how long it had been since I'd had a chance to "freshen up." I was feeling extremely uncomfortable.

Starbuck nodded towards a door that I had thought was just a closet. "Yes, thank the Lords," he said. "There's a washroom in there."

Ten centons later, I felt much better, relatively speaking. But now my stomach was growling. I hadn't eaten since yesterday's midday meal, since Silva had trapped us before we'd had a chance to eat dinner, which may have contributed to my fainting spell. I was feeling nauseous and light headed from the low blood sugar. I sat back down on the bed.

I must have looked pale, because Starbuck became very worried again. "Are you okay?"

"I need food," I answered. "What time is it anyway?"

Starbuck glanced at his chronometer. "0900. Well, at least, people will be starting to wonder because I'm supposed to be launching on patrol with Boomer right now, and you're late for class."

"Yeah," I said. But what could they do? They didn't know where we were. And even if they did, what could they possible do?

"Food," Starbuck muttered. "Time to *do* something, I think." He climbed to his feet. Slowly, I noticed. And he never did quite stand upright. Broken ribs, no doubt. Silva's specialty, it seemed.

"Be careful!" I said.

Starbuck grinned slightly and walked to the entrance to these cramped quarters. "Hey!" he yelled, banging with his fist against the door, which was undoubtedly locked. I assumed he had already tried just opening it. "Hey, we need some food in here!" He continued to shout and bang for several centons.

Finally, the door hissed open and Silva stepped across the threshold. He glanced at me to see if I was all right, I supposed, but his expression was unreadable. Pulling out his laser, he leveled it at Starbuck. "You'll get some food later. First, we need you to make a little call to Commander Adama. Come on." He motioned for the lieutenant to exit ahead of him. To me, he said, "He'll be back in a bit, okay?" Maybe he had a human side, after all. He seemed genuinely concerned about me. "And I'll see that you get some food then."

"Okay," I whispered, watching as they disappeared out the door, leaving me alone. Alone to ponder what the future, at this point, might bring us.

********** PART 6

I didn't notice Aliana and Starbuck were missing until

the next morning. I just assumed that since they had

headed over to the Rising Star for a good time, that

maybe Starbuck had had too good a time and they had

rented a room for him to sleep it off.

But when they weren't back in time for Starbuck's

patrol, I knew something was up. I had never known

Starbuck to miss a patrol. Now maybe in the past he

had been a bit of a slacker, or so I had heard from

stories, but the Starbuck I knew was very dedicated to

his job. He had become even more so since the

announcement of Aliana's pregnancy. It was as if he was trying to prove a point,

not only with himself but the whole fleet that he

could pull this off. That Starbuck could be

responsible.

Of course there were still bets on how long this would last, even after his two week hiatus and return.

How soon it would be before he really cracked under the

pressure, or his old ways resurfaced again and he was actually

cheating around on us. The first time, he had tried to escape to the barracks and the safety of just being one of the guys, leaving behind the complicated world of women. But many predicted it wouldn't be

long before he went back to his old devil may care

self and was back to chasing the young, available pilots. I had my money on two sectars after the baby

was born. I figured by then he'd have had his

fill of parenthood with a screaming infant in the

quarters.

And that was the whole point of his and Aliana getting

away to the Rising Star. Starbuck needed a break. He

needed to see that you could be a parent and still

have fun too. But even when having fun, Starbuck

never missed a patrol.

I checked on the Rising Star and they had not rented a

room. That's when I got concerned. I had been hoping

that maybe Starbuck had overslept and they had missed

the shuttle back. But they hadn't even rented a room.

I checked in at the landing bay, thinking maybe he'd

made it back just in time for patrol and hadn't

bothered to check in at the quarters, maybe Aliana had

headed on to her classes too. That's when I became

concerned. His viper was still in the bay. So was

Boomer, waiting impatiently, helmet in hand.

"Hey Boomer, have you seen Starbuck?" I tried to ask

casually, but I never could fool Boomer.

"I was just about to contact you and ask the same

thing. He's late."

"Yeah, so is Aliana. They headed over to the Rising

Star last night."

"Well that's what's happened then. They probably

slept it off and missed the shuttle."

"No, I checked. Besides, they wouldn't do that.

Okay, maybe Starbuck, but not Aliana."

Boomer gave me a doubtful look, then remembered whom

we were talking about. "Yeah, you're right. Let's go

see what's up." Boomer headed for the Squadron

Leaders office.

We walked in to find a worried Apollo, already

checking around for Starbuck's whereabouts.

"Good, we were trying to find you, see if maybe you

knew where Starbuck was? He's late for patrol." He

said to me.

"Uh, that's why I'm here. I don't know where he is.

He went over to the Rising Star last night and hasn't

come back."

"So that's where he is. Great! I thought he'd

finally cleaned up his act. I swear I am going to

dock him a sectar's pay over this one!" Apollo fumed.

He had been riding Starbuck hard to keep his act

together and maybe then the IFB reporters would leave

him alone.

"But he's not on the Rising Star, Captain." I said.

"I've already checked. They didn't get a room last

night."

"They? Aliana's late too?" Apollo asked. Apollo's

eyes lost their spark of anger, and instead turned

cloudy with worry

"I'm getting worried, I mean, yeah, Starbuck isn't

exactly known for his punctuality, but Aliana is. She

would have checked in with me by now. She would have

contacted someone." I was starting to get myself

worked up into a frenzy as I realized for myself that

something serious must have happened.

Apollo put a steadying hand on my shoulder "Alright, let's get a search going," he said. He had a stern set to his jaw. "Boomer, contact the Rising Star, double check that they didn't get a room and where they went last night. I'll start checking the shuttle records." He paused just briefly. "Maybe they headed over to one of the other ships for a card game or something" He looked into my eyes. " Reyana, you let us know the moment you hear anything."

"Oh no you don't Captain. I'm a part of this search

party!" I stood there, hands on my hips blocking the

door.

Apollo sighed. He could tell he had no choice but to

include me. He'd flown with me enough to know by now

that I could be stubborn when I had a point to make.

"Fine Ensign, but you're with me. Just in case this

has anything to do with those people Sire Uri was

involved with."

That stopped me cold. I had forgotten. With all that

had happened in the past eight sectars, I had forgotten

about the little incident with Sire Uri and his black

market thugs. I had been so wrapped up in my own

affairs, being back together with Starbuck and

Aliana's pregnancy, that I had forgotten about the

ongoing investigation in which Apollo and Boomer were

involved. They had been working for sectars to find

Uri's supplier, to find the source of the majority of

illegal items within the fleet. I had heard on

occasion of one or two of their breakthroughs. They

had even found a hydroponics plant vapor processing

center on the Mauna Loa freighter. Apollo and Boomer

had almost single handedly stopped the flow of illegal

drugs within the fleet. But they had yet to discover

the mysterious supplier for Sire Uri.

"Oh my god, you don't think." I didn't say any more

remembering how casually Shyra had been murder, her

body purposely left in a landing bay to be found. The

sudden memory caused my mind to go where it shouldn't

have gone. I suddenly had visions of Starbuck and

Aliana being shoved out an airlock, or shot, or hidden

away somewhere that we would never find.

Apollo looked at me, and I guess he could read my

thoughts from the look in my eys. He put his hand on

my shoulder and said, "No, I don't think that has

anything to do with the black market investigation.

They probably just got caught up in a card game,

forgot the time, and missed the shuttle back. That's

all."

But even as he said it, I could tell he didn't believe

it. Starbuck, yeah maybe, Aliana? Never. She would

never get so caught up that she forgot to make it back

in time for duty.

"Besides, Boomer and I have been very careful to keep

all of you out of the investigations. For all intents

and purposes it does look like none of you are

concerned with the issue." Apollo continued, but it

sounded more like he was reassuring himself. "They

probably just missed a shuttle somewhere."

"Okay." I said, not believing that for a micron.

"Let's head to the Bridge and officially report them

missing. Boomer." Apollo said heading for the door.

"I got it Captain. Contacting the Rising Star now."

Apollo didn't say anything more, just kept on walking

for the bridge. It was hard for me to keep up. He

wasn't exactly running, but he wasn't exactly walking

either. That in itself caused me to start to panic.

I had been in Blue Squadron long enough to know that

not much flustered Apollo. He was a model example of

professionalism.

The lift doors opened onto the bridge and I was amazed

at the level of quiet we encountered. But Apollo was

aware that quiet on the bridge indicated trouble. He

immediately tensed and ran for the command center. He

approached Commander Adama who was communicating with

someone on the interfleet communications screen.

Colonel Tigh tried to intercept Apollo. There was no

mistaking the tension on the Colonel's face, the shock

and horror in his eyes. Then we heard Starbuck's

voice, a cold bonechilling voice. Apollo's whole body

went rigid as he stopped mid-stride. Then it was as

if he was launched as he bypassed Tigh and took the

stairs to the command center two at a time.

I was fast behind him, but I stopped midway up as I

got a glimpse of Starbuck's face I gasped at what I

saw. Starbuck was on the viewscreen, but he was

barely recognizable from the bruises on his face.

Both eyes were swollen and black and his right cheek

was dark blue.

Starbuck's voice did not betray much about the

situation. His voice was cold and even. "They are

demanding supplies for a three sectar voyage,

coordinates to the nearest habitable planet, and no

interference from the Galactica or anyone of the

fleet. They just want to leave."

Apollo spoke before Adama could respond. "And if we

don't comply?"

Starbuck briefly looked to Apollo, then leveled his

gaze again at Adama. Starbuck did not respond, but

then it was obvious that someone on the freighter

prompted him to continue. "Aliana is here with me.

They have threatened to terminate us and then start

terminating the civilians on the freighter who are not

in on this."

"And if we comply," Adama started to say, but Apollo

cut him off.

"Father, you can't be thinking of negotiating with

these people! They are animals! Look at him!

They've already tortured Starbuck!"

Adama put up a hand to halt Apollo's words. Adama

quietly continued, "If we comply, when will you be

returned to the Galactica? When will the civilians

who do not wish to leave be free to return?"

Starbuck looked to someone out of view of the screen,

then looked back to Adama "If you don't comply, we

will be dead. Our return will be discussed after you

comply." Starbuck uttered this in an even voice. So

far he had shown no emotion and his eyes were cold,

but I knew that coldness indicated his rage. I could

also see the pain on his face, the slight squint of

discomfort around his eyes. I knew he was only

keeping it together for Aliana's sake. If it weren't

for her, he probably would have been killed by now

trying to escape or resist them.

"That is unacceptable." Adama said, anger starting to

creep into his voice.

"They have told me to tell you that you have 25

centaurs to comply. At that point they will begin

executing hostages."

I gasped again. Starbuck had said it so calmly, as if

he was talking about someone else, not himself, Aliana

and the baby. The baby, the thought made me want to

curl up on the deck of the bridge and cry.

"It will take us longer than 25 centaurs to gather

that many supplies. We will need more time." Adama

replied.

Starbuck looked off screen again, then looked back.

His emotions had not changed. "They are not expecting

you to comply, but to attempt to rescue us instead.

They are indicating to me that you shouldn't waste

your time trying to organize a rescue party. They are

expecting that. You should just gather the supplies

with the time you've been given." Starbuck then

looked from the Commander to Apollo, and for the

briefest moment the mask he was wearing slipped. He

flashed Apollo a look of desperation and despair, then

the mask was back in place again. Apollo flinched,

then tensed. His hands balled into fists and he

looked to his father.

Adama did not take his eyes off Starbuck.

"Tell them we will do all we can. To please not harm

anyone, we have no wish for violence here. But we

will need more time."

"You have twenty five centaurs." Starbuck reiterated

quietly, then his image faded from the screen.

Apollo lashed his anger and frustrating at his father.

"How could this have happened? How were they taken

hostage? Who would do this? You don't intend to give

in to their demands?"

Adama reached out for his son to calm him, but Apollo

yanked away. Adama sighed and attempted to answer his

questions. "We do not know exactly how it happened,

only that security cams have an image of Starbuck and

Aliana going with Security Guard Silva into a lift.

The cams in the cargo shuttle bay recorded nothing,

but we have people looking into that now. We believe

they disabled the cams for a short amount of time."

"You don't intend to give in to their demands do you?

We need to organize a rescue. We need to take that

ship by force!" Apollo was pacing now.

I had never seen him pace before. Perhaps it was that

sight, a habit that was so reminiscent of Starbuck's

mannerisms that pushed me over the edge. Tears began

to stream from my eyes. I must have made some sound

because Apollo turned toward me. His eyes blazed with

a fury more intense than I had ever witnessed. "We

will get them back unharmed. We will not meet their

demands." Apollo turned back to his father. "I will

gather the squadrons."

"Apollo, son, slow down. We need to think clearly or

they will all be lost. These people are not to be

treated lightly. As you saw, Starbuck is injured."

"And that is why we must not deal with them! They are

ruthless!"

"Yes, yes they are, and that is why I intend to meet

their demands."

"WHAT?!!!" Apollo raged, then turned away from his

father.

Adama quickly bridged the gulf between them, gently

placing his hands on Apollo's shoulders. "Son, I

fully intend to mount a rescue. But for now we need

to appease them. We need to insure Starbuck and

Aliana's safety. I intend to give them some of the

supplies they requested."

"And we will be on that shuttle ready to attack!"

Apollo said turning to face his father.

"No, not the first shuttle. Maybe not even the

second. We need to come up with a different plan. We

need them to think we are complying with their

demands. There are too many lives at stake. We need

to find another way to get on that ship."

Apollo visibly relaxed once he realized that his

father had no intention of leaving Starbuck and Aliana

at the mercy of these demented people.

"What do you have in mind?" Apollo asked.

"Gather a team, perhaps of twelve. Make sure you pick

those who have experience with explosives and space

walks. I think I have an idea. It just might work."
"You are going to recreate the Delphian Debacle aren't

you?" Tigh asked. "By the lords, it just might

work!"

"I don't understand." Apollo stated waiting for

clarification.

"The Delphian's ruler was taken hostage by the Cylons.

While the negotiations for his release were being

worked out, a small team of Delphians space walked

over to the Cylon ship, entered an airlock and

disabled the Cylons engines."

"It could be done. If we jumped from the shuttle just

before it landed, it could work." Apollo nodded to

his father and said no more. Instead he turned

sprinted from the bridge. I followed in his wake. He

didn't notice me until we were on the lift and the

doors had closed.
Apollo turned to face me. His face looked determined,

but his eyes were dark with worry. He sighed, then

assumed his authoritative captain mode. "I know how

you feel. I know you want to help, but you are not

going to be a part of this."

"But I can't sit and do nothing." I softly stated.

"I know, but this has to be perfect. I am going to be

relying on the experience and instincts of some of our

top Warriors. We can't afford any mistakes. One

mistake and." He left the words we both feared unsaid.

"I know. I know." I said in resignation. "But I

can't just go back to my quarters and wait." I

pleaded.

"I know. I don't mean this the way it sounds,"

Apollo's eyes bore into me pleadingly, "but I don't

have time to worry about you. Try to stay out of the

way." The lift doors opened and he turned from me

heading for the bachelor's billet.

I followed. I knew what Apollo had meant. As long as

I kept quiet, as long as I wasn't conspicuous, I could

tag along for now. It's good that he allowed me to, I

would have followed him anyway. I could stay out of

the way, but I had to be there. I had to do

something.

********* PART 7 I was pacing, as best I could, in the small space between the mattress and the door, waiting for Starbuck to return. They would return him, I hoped, I hoped . . . Silva had seemed so sincere when he'd promised us some food. But what if --? No, there'd be no reason to harm him right now. They just needed to contact the Galactica. And then the commander would *know* where we were. But what could they actually *do* about it? What? What? I could not think of an answer, at least, not one that had a favorable outcome.

Oh, but waiting, alone, was becoming unbearable! I kept picturing Siress Luwana, after Starbuck made the call to the commander for her, feeling bored and ordering Starbuck and Silva to finish that fight. No, I kept thinking, just bring him back to me. Please, please.

I almost didn't notice the first pain. It was just an ache, really, that started low in my back and abdomen and spread in a wave through the muscles. Stress, I figured, just stress. Lords knew I had plenty of *that* at the moment. I ignored it and continued to pace and wait and hope and pray.

Forty long centons later, the door hissed open, and Starbuck stepped through, followed by Silva. The guard set two rations bag on the floor and disappeared back out. The door hissed closed again. Starbuck reached down to get the bags, grimaced, and stopped, holding his right side.

I lumbered up from where I had finally sat down on the mattress. "Frak," I muttered, helping him over to the chair. "What'd they do to you?" I was watching him with great concern.

"Nothing," he said between groans, eyes closed. He let his head lull back against the wall and was breathing in shallow, controlled breaths. "Just Silva's handiwork from yesterday catching up with me."

"Frakking snitrads!" I spat. I was angry, so angry. "I mean, what was the point of that fight, anyway? Was there a point, other than for Siress Luwana's sick pleasure?"

"Actually, there was," said the lieutenant quietly. "If I'm hurt, they don't have to worry about me trying to escape . . ."

"Ropes would have had the same effect!" I cried in exasperation.

"Yeah . . . maybe we should complain . . ." He coughed and grimaced again.

I was furious, furious. I turned and stormed to door and started banging on it. After a few centons, it opened and Silva stepped through. "That's enough!" he growled. "Quiet!"

I had to take several steps backwards to get out of his way, but I was too angry to be frightened at this point. I glared at him. "Can't you see he needs a doctor!" I shouted, pointing to Starbuck, who was watching me but had not moved from the chair. "You people are insane!"

"You'll just have to make do. Now settle down, before Siress Luwana -"

"I don't give an equine's astrum about her!" I yelled. "Surely *you* aren't that inhuman? Just look at him! He's in pain! How can you let another human suffer like this? I thought the *Cylons* were the enemies!"

Silva glanced towards the lieutenant, then back to me. The frown on his face wavered, if only slightly, before returning to its rigid glare. "I said quiet!" He moved further in and hit the door pad. It hissed closed behind him.

"What have we -"

"Stop and listen!" he shouted, loudly, to be heard over my screaming.

I stopped, mainly to catch my breath. Starbuck was too surprised, I think, to move, had he been able. He was still just staring and watching.

"Just listen!" hissed Silva. "We don't have a doctor here. Or a medtech. This isn't the Galactica!" That caught me off guard. I had assumed that every ship had medical personnel. He continued. "And no, I don't enjoy just hurting people, but I didn't have a choice!"

I stared at him in amazement. "What do you mean? You can't possibly be that afraid of that - that - she-lupus!"

"No," answered Silva, "If it were just her, I'd never have done it."

I was confused. Apparently, I was missing a piece of the puzzle. I glanced at Starbuck, and he, too, looked confused. "So who's really in charge here?" he asked.

Silva sighed. "Ulyseus."

"Oh, frak," muttered Starbuck, closing his eyes, and looking as if that explained everything to him. "So that's who that was on the bridge."

"Who? Who's he?" I asked, bewildered.

"My boss," said Silva. "The Head of Colonial Security."

"So what's that mean?" I asked, speaking to Starbuck this time, "other than we know why security has been shot to Hades?" I inhaled and exhaled deeply several times and sat on the mattress, suddenly feeling tired and suddenly aware of another cramp.

Starbuck opened his eyes and let out a slow breath, still struggling to control the pain. Ulyseus used to be a warrior," he said between breaths, "He was in charge of a special tactical unit that conducted the riskier ground assaults, rescue missions, and other covert operations. He was injured, though, during the Great Destruction. Dropped out of the Colonial Service because he was grounded, I think." He shook his head. "I knew the man giving the orders on the bridge looked familiar. I just couldn't place him at the time."

"So how does that explain this?" I asked.

"Tactical decision. A part of his training," said Starbuck. "Disable the 'enemy.'" The lieutenant shot a glance at Silva. "I just hadn't imagined that we'd become 'the enemy.'"

"Yeah, well, a lot's happened in the past yahren," said Silva, looking angry again. "You warriors like to think that all's equal in the Fleet, but you're wrong."

"Frak," I muttered again. It was falling into place now. "So Ulyseus is the head of this 'operation,' Luwana supplies the wealth, and you and the others carry it out?" I asked.

"That's about it," answered Silva. His expression softened again. "Look, I have to get going. But I'll bring some painkillers first chance I get, okay?" He turned and picked up the ration packs. "For now," he said, tossing them to us, "I recommend you both rest and eat. Keep your energy up. Ulyseus may be in charge, but Luwana does have some influence. And yeah," he said, in answer to my disgusted look, "she's a few cards short of a Pyramid deck. But I'll do what I can."

"Thanks, I guess," said Starbuck with a mirthless chuckle.

Once the door had closed behind Silva, I stared at Starbuck. "We're really stuck, aren't we?"

"Would appear so . . ."

************* PART 8 Silva returned, as he said he would, about 30 centons later, with a hypo full of painkiller. He gave it to Starbuck and left without a word, though. His expression had been neutral, but I had sensed some tension with him, as if he was doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing. When I thanked him, he ignored me and hurried on out.

Starbuck was still sitting in the chair, which he claimed was the most comfortable position; lying down, he said, put too much pressure on the broken ribs. He figured that at least two, maybe three, of the lower ones on his right side were cracked, maybe snapped, even, as far as he could tell from the stabbing pain that came if he inhaled too deeply. He told me this in a casual tone of voice, trying to appear calm and in control, but I could tell from one look into his blue eyes that he was worried, very worried. Silva had put him in the exact position in which he loathed to be - basically helpless.

Which was why I had not told Starbuck that I was having contractions. And I was pretty certain that the cramps that I was having were not just due to stress. Nor were they false labor pains. No . . . these were now coming about every ten centons and were the real thing. I just knew it. Just knew it. It was about the only other thing that could go wrong for us, so, of course, it would. Eventually, I would not be able to conceal the pain from the contractions, I knew that, but for now - and it was probably totally unreasonable and illogical - but I didn't want him to worry about *that*, too. I was watching how he sat without moving, eyes closed, resting because sleep had been impossible the previous night, how he kept his breaths shallow. I just couldn't add one more problem on top of our current heap. Not yet, anyway.

So I paced - my normal behavior for stress, as it is - and breathed through the mild contractions without him noticing. The silence was finally too much for me, though. "What do you think the commander will do?"

Starbuck opened his eyes to watch me pace. "Attempt to gain control of the ship, somehow. Don't know how, though."

"Will he let them leave the Fleet?" I knew the answer already.

"No, he can't," answered Starbuck with a sigh. "He can't set the precedent. It'd lead to chaos, because others might try to break free, as well. And the Fleet's not strong enough to splinter like that. Staying together is out only chance. So, no, he'll have to stop that at all costs, for the sake of our entire population." He gazed at the ceiling, away from me. "I wish I could tell you something different."

"Hey! What about that 'Starbuck luck'?" I asked. He sounded too resigned. It unnerved me, because he was supposed to be the eternal optimist.

He cracked a smile at that. "Okay, so there's still a chance. Besides, you've been hanging around Apollo and Boomer long enough to know that they'll do everything they damn well can to protect not just us, but the other hundred people that probably have no clue as to what's about to happen. It's just that . . ." He frowned as his voice trailed off.

"What?" I yelled, exasperated. "Don't do that!"

He looked worried again. "Ulyseus will anticipate some sort of rescue attempt. He'll be expecting one, even. Because he knows the commander will not just let them sail away from the Fleet."

"Frak," I muttered. "But there're only four of them!"

"Seven that we *know* of," he corrected. "And they control the bridge. The captain is in on this and the two members of his bridge staff, too. I suspect they've got a few others helping them out, also. About a dozen, probably."

"So what can the Galactica do?"

"Attempt to disable the ship, maybe knock out her sensors. Try to infiltrate, somehow. Ulyseus will know this and will try to stop them."

"How?" I asked, insistent.

Starbuck looked away. "Look, let's not dwell on it, okay?"

"No, tell me the truth!" I said, feeling a growing sense of frustration and an unreasonable fury at how calm Starbuck appeared. I knew it would do no good to panic, that Starbuck was simply following all of the warrior training concerning 'what to do if captured by the enemy,' chapter five, section three of the Warrior Handbook. Remain calm and collected. Analyze the situation. Always keep a keen eye open for any chance of escape. But be prepared to accept the worst. As I felt another contraction roll through my abdomen, I felt far from calm and resolute. My rising panic must have masked my labored breathing, though, and I was still determined to hide the labor pains from him, as stupid as that may have been. But I was hardly able to think logically, given our current situation.

Starbuck stared into my eyes. "Calm down. You need to calm down." He motioned for me to come closer, to where he could reach out to me. He took both my hands in his and squeezed. "I won't tell you that things will be all right, because we both know exactly what kind of a mess we're in. And I think you don't need me to tell you what method Ulyseus is likely to use to exert influence on the commander. But." he squeezed tighter and pulled me towards him, until he could wrap his arms around my rotund middle and rest his head on my belly. I cradled his head, running my fingers through his soft hair. He finally continued. "It's one thing to know what might happen; it's another to dwell on it. Don't. Because I've learned even if something seems 99.9% fated to happen, that .1% can still happen." I felt his chuckle. "Heck, with me, it's quite likely to happen! 'Starbuck luck,' you know." He hugged and kissed my belly as he felt a foot kicking, and I felt suddenly so connected to him, so close. Maybe he was right.

After about ten centons, I felt another cramp coming, though, and I pulled back, reluctantly, but still not wanting to add this extra burden on him, not yet, not yet. Because I was avoiding just how we were supposed to deal with delivering a baby while being held hostage by a hard-core ex-commando, a landram of a guard, and an evil, sadistic siress. Maybe it was so pathetically insane that we *had* to have some way out of this. I hoped. I pretended to pace some more, keeping my back to Starbuck until the contraction had passed, then turned back to face him.

"What's the matter?" he asked, eying me.

"I'm fine," I lied.

"No, you're not," he said, frowning. "What's going on? Is there a problem?"

"Yes, there's a problem! And I think you know what it is!" I yelled at him.

"That's not what I mean," he said evenly. "Is the baby okay?"

"Yes," I lied again. I just didn't want to deal with it, not yet. "I'm just stressed an a bit achy, that's all."

"Why not sit down -" He was about to get up so that I could have the chair, but we both froze when we heard movement at the door. A micron later, it slid open. I sat down quickly on the mattress, staring at the floor, because I felt weak in the knees, dreading who it might be. Three sets of feet clomped in. They all sounded heavy and masculine. Maybe it wasn't . . . I looked up to see Silva standing next to two unfamiliar men. One was the captain, I could tell from the insignia on his jacket, and the other, the one that had a cold face and steely eyes, had to be the security chief, Ulyseus. Just one glance at him sent shivers down my spine. I could almost feel his bitter resolve. Whereas Siress Luwana was calculating, cruel, and arguably unbalanced, he was rock-steady and as cold as ice, all emotion locked deep beneath a hardened exterior. Of him, I was truly frightened.

Starbuck, however, met his unblinking stare. "What do you want?"

"We simply want you both to be informed of the facts," Ulyseus said. "The Galactica has 25 centars from the moment you contacted them - so that would be 23 centars, now - to meet our supply demands and to transmit to us the coordinates of the nearest planet suitable for colonization. Next, we are to be permitted to leave the Fleet without being trailed by any possible rescue forces - we will closely monitor our sensors, should the time come when we are at that point." The way he said that sent another chill down my spine. It almost seemed like he was anticipating a battle. He continued, confirming my fears as he spoke in a flat, unemotional voice. "Should, as we expect, the commander chose not to cooperate, it will be necessary to exert what pressure we can."

Ulyseus took a step forward, and as he did, he pulled out a knife with a nasty, gleaming blade, holding it up in front of him. I felt my heart skip a beat. He was staring at Starbuck. "Understand that it's nothing personal," he said. "You're involvement, in fact, is more at the insistence of the siress. She was most upset when Sir Uri was apprehended and part of our operations exposed. She insisted on some form of revenge against some of the key figures involved." Ulyseus cast me a glance. "Mainly against the two ensigns who were reported to have gotten Sir Uri arrested and convicted." He switched his gaze back to Starbuck and continued in the same unaffected, even conversational, tone, his fingers absently twirling the knife. "Since it was common knowledge that you frequent the Rising Star and are often accompanied by one of the ensigns, Siress Luwana conceived the plan with which you were captured." He almost, almost smiled, but then the impassive expression returned. "While I don't necessarily approve of her emotional schemes, I will admit that her plan was effective."

Indeed, since here we were.

Ulyseus suddenly stopped twirling the knife and held it in front of his face at eye level. "However, now that you are here, I intend to take full advantage of the leverage it might give us," he said. "It is also common knowledge that of the many warriors in this Fleet, you are quite close to not only the commander's son, but to him, as well. That he has a high regard for you and values you as if you were his kin." He paused, and I felt my blood run cold. "We will, of course, use that to attempt to persuade the commander to meet our demands. And since we will need every man and woman on this ship to establish a stable colony, I will maim - a finger, an ear, perhaps -- before choosing to kill." He was twirling the blade again so that it gleamed under the artificial lighting. His face was relaxed, his tone of voice still detached, but he was drilling the lieutenant with his gaze. "But I will kill, if it comes to that."

The terror that gripped me was paralyzing. I had never, never met someone so . . . cold. No games, just the truth. If disfigurement doesn't work, then it'll have to be death. Oh, well. And he would do it. Without blinking an eye. It was absolutely no comfort when he turned to me and said, "Rest assured, miss, that it's only the critical need for new blood and new life that will save you. You won't be harmed." With that, the three turned and left.

As soon as the door had closed, I put my hands over my face and started sobbing, "Oh no, oh no, oh no!" A moment later, I felt a warm body next to me, arms around me, pulling me close, even though it must have hurt like Hades. "It's okay, it's okay. He just wanted to rattle us, but it's okay. A lot can happen in 23 centars. It's okay . . ." Starbuck's voice was soft, soothing, calm. Still, I could not help but notice how tightly he held me, how hard, almost painfully, his hands were squeezing. I knew, then, that he was much more shaken up than he would ever admit to me.

****** PART 9 The centons dragged on slowly. We tried to eat more of the rations, but neither of us had any appetite. Afterwards, we had switched places, with Starbuck now pacing while I sat in the chair to rest my back. The contractions were now coming more frequently, and I knew I needed to tell Starbuck, knew that we needed to let our captors know, as well. As unpleasant as that thought was to me, I knew we would need their assistance soon. Surely, surely they'd give it to us, they would help us, wouldn't they? Oh, Lords, this couldn't be happening . . . I was just plain too scared to say anything, and Starbuck was too tense, too worried about our future prospects to attribute my pained looks to anything other than stress and fatigue. I needed to tell him. It was time. It was overdue, in fact.

"Starbuck -" I started, then froze again when the door opened. Again. No, not again! Just leave us! I was about to scream those very words when I heard a voice. Her voice. "How are my guests doing today?" I felt paralyzed. Siress Luwana stood watching us. Silva stood next to the door. The siress wore a black, skin tight body suit this time and looked every centimetron like a sorceress's black feline. She moved with an exaggerated grace, totally absorbed in her own game.

Starbuck graced her with a glare. "What do you want?" He was too tense, now, too worried, too frustrated. I had a sinking feeling that he was in no mood to tolerate her. I wanted to scream at him that - whatever she might do - don't challenge her! But the words caught in my throat and refused to form.

She smiled at his anger. "I understand that you might be in need of some medicine, for your . . . pain." She positively purred over the word. "Isn't that right, Silva?"

The guard, I could have sworn, looked uncomfortable. "Yes, ma'am, I was intending to see if the lieutenant needed any more of the analgesic."

"Leave us, please," she said to Silva while staring at the Starbuck.

Silva hesitated, then stepped through the open door. It hissed closed, and we were alone with the she-lupus.

Luwana moved up close to Starbuck. "Show me where it hurts, why don't you?" She shot me a wicked glance and started to reach out to touch him.

I saw the glint in his eye before he moved. Oh, no, don't! Don't confront her!

Starbuck grabbed her hand and thrust it back sharply. "Don't touch me!" he hissed.

I was breathing more rapidly, because I saw the look of pure evil delight flash across her face.

"Don't touch?" she said, eyeing him with obvious intent and moving slowly towards him. "Don't touch? But that's exactly what I do want." She was surprisingly fast. Before he could react, Luwana grabbed his face with both hands and pressed her mouth against his, pushing with her body against him so hard that she shoved him back against the wall. Starbuck struggled to push her away, but from his grunts and gasps, I knew he was in pain and probably had no leverage whatsoever with his right arm and not enough with his left. She continued to kiss, aggressively, until he managed to stop pushing and, instead, twisted his body to the right, using his left shoulder to break her hold on him and to shove her off. But he sank to the floor after the effort, drained and in terrible pain, gasping, choking.

She turned, a look of hatred in her eyes, and advanced on him. And from somewhere she pulled out a switchblade.

"No!" I screamed, finally able to force my voice to work. I started out of the chair and she swung in my direction.

"Sit down, girl!" she snapped, waving the knife at me.

I froze. I was in no condition, either, to defend myself. But I could not just sit and watch her insane attack. "Don't!" I screamed again.

She hesitated long enough to glare at me again and swish the blade around as a threat -- just long enough for Starbuck to throw himself at her legs and knock her off balance, sending her tumbling to the floor over his back. He ended up at my feet in a heap. I tried to help him, push him up, because Luwana now looked murderous as she climbed to her feet, panting and actually growling under her breath. She advanced on us and grabbed Starbuck by his jacket, yanking with a strength reinforced by her rage, successfully pulling him up, because he was in too much pain to resist. She steadied him with one hand and brought the blade next to his throat with the other.

Starbuck was panting in ragged, groaning breaths and was glaring at her. But he did have sense enough to not say anything.

Slowly, she brought the tip of the knife to right under his chin and leaned in so close that she was almost touching him. "I thought you'd be more of a challenge than this," she whispered. "I'm disappointed."

Oh frak, I thought. I felt a shutter run through me. She was staring at him with that malicious gleam in her eye. Slowly, deliberately, she pushed him backwards until they were against the wall again. The knife still rested under his chin. Her other hand had a tight grip on his flight jacket. Starbuck was trying to remain steady, but he was shaking from the pain from his ribs, I could tell, because his breathing was labored and his face rigid. She was inhaling deeply. She was prepared to act, to . . . I did not want to find out. I had to, had to do something. Something!

Luwana suddenly pulled the knife back and pressed herself against him again, kissing him violently and knocking what little breath he had out of his lungs. A kiss of death, because I watched in horror as she raised the knife, gripped tightly in her fist, up high as if to strike him. It mattered not what Ulyseus had planned, because she was out for blood.

"STOP!" I screamed, consumed by the panic. I was on my feet, just screaming, "STOP! STOP! STOP!"

Luwana, distracted, turned to glare at me, while at the same time pressing the arm that held Starbuck's jacket against his throat. I was still screaming. Then her eyes swept passed me and narrowed. Another voice finally penetrated and I stopped, swinging around to see Silva had entered. And he held his laser leveled at Luwana.

It was too much, too much. I stumbled backwards, around the chair. The cramp that gripped me was fierce, and I doubled over, gasping.

"Drop the knife!" I heard Silva shout. "You know Ulyseus wants them alive! Drop it!!"

I was still doubled over as the pain slowly subsided. I was vaguely aware that Luwana had turned, letting Starbuck collapse to the floor, and was staring at the guard. And then I felt a wet sensation. Gripping my sides, I straightened and glared at the woman. "Get out!!" I screamed, wild with panic and pain. "Get out!! Get out!!"

Luwana gave me a cold, uncaring look, straightened her shoulders, and without a word, marched out, brushing against Silva as she passed him. Once the door had closed behind her, Silva jammed the laser in his holster and rushed over to me. "Are you in labor?" he ask, wide eyed.

"Yes," I muttered.

"What?!" I looked over to see Starbuck trying to climb to his feet. He was holding his side with both hands and grimacing with every movement.

"My water just broke," I said. I felt another contraction coming on. They were stronger now, coming about three centons apart. I groaned and Silva helped me to the mattress. Starbuck was there, too, and sat down beside me as best he could, keeping his back straight and looking bewildered.

******** PART 10 For several centons, none of us could think straight. I was simply breathing through the contraction. Starbuck was closer to an all out panic than I had ever seen him. He was pale and mumbling, "Oh no, oh no, oh no. . ." He looked about ready to pass out, and I wasn't sure if it was from his own pain, or the fear of what was going to happen, like it or not.

And Silva was pacing back and forth, muttering, "Okay, just think. Okay, what do we need? What do we need?" He stopped suddenly to stare at me. "I'll be right back!" And he hurried out.

In the brief respite from the contractions, I turned to Starbuck. "Are you okay? Oh, Starbuck, I need you! I need you!"

He ran a hand through his hair several times while still holding his side with the other. But his breathing was more under control, and he looked less likely to pass out. "Right. Okay." He suddenly glared at me. "How long has this been going on?"

"About four centars," I admitted through gritted teeth as another wave spread through me and I tried to remember how to relax and breath through it.

Anger did wonders to Starbuck's own condition. "Four centars!" he yelled. "Why didn't you tell me?"

And yelling at a woman in labor is not a wise idea. "Because I was scared!" I snapped. "I was scared and wanted it to be just stress! But it's not!" I was glaring at him and panting. "This baby is coming! This baby is coming!"

"Oh, frak," he muttered. And, Lords bless him, his warrior training finally kicked back in. "Okay," he said, breathing in slowly. He tucked his right arm against his side, with the hand wrapped around his waist, trying to steady the broken ribs. Then he slid over carefully next to me on the mattress and began to rub and massage my lower back. "Okay," he said, "you can do this. You can do this."

The next contraction was one of the strongest and longest yet. And most painful. I groaned and moaned my way through it, trying to concentrate on my breathing, and tried to remember everything we'd learned about the stages of birth from Dr. Salik. It provided a slight distraction, anyway. "I'd say I'm in the second phase of first stage labor," I muttered. "The active phase -" I broke off to deal with the next wave.

Starbuck kept rubbing. "Right. Fine," he paused a moment. "What's that mean?" he asked, not remembering.

"That we've got five or six centars, probably," I said between gasps for air, "until it's time to actually deliver her."

"Frak. That long?"

"Yeah," I answered. It pays to be studious and have a good memory sometimes. "The active phase lasts around three centars, the transition phase about two . . . and then it's time to push."

Starbuck actually chuckled.

"What?" I asked, then had to focus on my breathing.

"It's just that you sound like an instructor," he said eventually.

"Grrr . . ." I grumbled. But I felt less agitated, I realized, than I had since the whole ordeal had begun. We had a focus now, a purpose that let us concentrate on something besides our uncertain future. For now, the baby was all that mattered. And while I would have much preferred to be doing this back aboard the Galactica, with access to true medical facilities, I felt an inexplicable confidence that, with Starbuck to help me, I could do this.

And we ended up having some unexpected and welcome help from a most unlikely source. Finally, Silva returned with an arm load of provisions - blankets, towels, med kits, and everything else he thought might be helpful. It had taken a while because he had had to explain to the captain and to Ulyseus what was going on before he could scrounge up the supplies. After he dumped the load on the floor, he grabbed a med kit and pulled out a hypo. He tossed it to Starbuck. "Here," he said. "That's for you. That's about all I can do, but she's going to need you." He looked solemn for a moment. "I wish we had a bone knitter, but we don't. Sorry."

As I watched the big guard arranging all the supplies and even telling us what to do, I felt a growing affinity towards him. And a growing trust. I also got the feeling that he had some experience with this. "Have you done this before?" I finally asked when I was able to catch my breath.

Silva froze for a moment, staring at the floor. "Yeah," he said quietly. "On Sagittarius, about a sectar before the Great Destruction. I was with my wife when she delivered our baby girl." He glanced at our silent but questioning faces. "And, no, they didn't make it."

******** For a moment, Starbuck and I stared at Silva in silence, feeling the horror of his reality. Then, I gave in to my instincts and let myself trust him. Not that I had much choice, but suddenly, it was comforting to have him there, because I knew, just *knew*, that he would do all he could to help us, to help me, at least for now.

And he did. As the centars progressed and as the pains became more intense, more draining, more frequent, both he and Starbuck remained so calm, so steady. After four centars had passed, I was ready to quit, just quit! But, of course, I couldn't. But I did vow that if, *if*, I ever did this again, I would have as much painkiller as the doctor could give me. All I wanted to do was lie down and sleep, because I was hot and exhausted, but the contractions came every few centons and lasted for several more.

I was in no position to appreciate it at the time, but Starbuck was going through almost as much pain as I was, if not more. He stubbornly refused to rest and kept massaging my back and trying to offer support, even encouraging me to keep breathing through those contractions by modeling deep breaths. With each inhalation he did, he had to be enduring the piercing pain from those broken ribs. Later, we would be able to appreciate all of the shared agony; at the moment, it was pure Hades.

After six centars, something began to feel different. I felt a pressure that told me that it was time, time to push. I grabbed Starbuck's hand as I felt the first insistent urge. "She's coming," I said between panting breaths. "She's coming. She's coming!" Then I bore down as Starbuck counted to ten.

This was it. This was it. I squeezed Starbuck's hand tightly and gazed up at him during the brief respite. His face reflected a dichotomy of emotions. Fear and worry shone through his eyes; yet, a hopeful smile played across his lips.

With one huge exception, it was a perfect delivery, textbook. Finally, finally, after another two centars of pushing, one little girl slipped out into the real world, leaving behind the warmth, the safety, and the security of the womb. Silva had hauled sterilized water and makeshift surgical instruments into our quarters from the galley, and he handled the medical aspects with skill from both his personal experience, as well as from some actual medtech training. After cutting the cord, he bathed her and wrapped her in a clean towel. The feel of the cold air after the warm water must have shocked her little system, because before he could get her completely wrapped, she let out a loud, shaky cry.

As Silva handed the wailing bundle to me, I was grinning and crying at the same time. We'd done it. She was here. Here. I caught Silva's eye and he looked away quickly, but not before I saw the pain and tears in his eyes; I knew he was remembering his baby, his little girl.

Starbuck, for once, was speechless when I looked up at him. "Oh my," was all he could manage. He was gazing from the baby to me, looking awe- struck. Either that or he was in shock.

Silva busied himself with the job of cleaning up. And I was crying in thanks when he pulled from out of his pile of supplies garments that he had "borrowed" from somewhere. After about two more centars, then, I was able to feel somewhat human, even if the clothes were ill-fitting and much too large. For the baby, we used towels as diapers. It took awhile, but, eventually, our small room was back into some kind of order.

Silva looked around. He appeared tired and unhappy. "I have to go," he said, his voice low. "I have to report to Ulyseus. But I'll bring more rations when I can." His gaze paused on the baby, and I saw the pain of remembrance flash across is face again.

I wanted to thank him, but the reality of our situation suddenly came crashing back down on me. Thank him? It was because of him that we were here, trapped, in the first place. But a lot had changed since we had stepped foot on this old freighter; that I knew. The look the guard gave us as he left, the conflict in his eyes, told us that, just maybe, we had an ally now.

******** PART 11

It had been fifteen centars from the time that Starbuck had been forced to contact the Galactica to present our captors' demands and from the time I had felt that first contraction. To now. As I lay trying to sleep. As Starbuck sat in the chair, cradling our new life, oblivious, it seemed, to the continuous stabbing from those broken ribs, as he gently rocked and whispered to his sleeping daughter. From the look in his eyes and the smile on his lips, I had a feeling that Rey and I could not compete with the newest girl in his life. She had captured his heart from the moment he had gazed at her tiny, wrinkled face.

She did not have a name, though. We had not yet decided on one before the ordeal had begun, believing that we still had three more sectons. And now, we were too exhausted to think. Maybe one would come to us if . . . if we got out of this mess. I was trying, trying to hold on the idea of "when," but it got harder and harder with each passing centon. Maybe after finally getting some rest . . . I drifted off into a fitful slumber, filled with visions of a leering, knife-wielding Siress Luwana and the coldly brutal indifference of Ulyseus.

The door. My heart leaped and the pounding vibrated in my ears as I sat upright. Boots clomped on the deck. I was shaking even before they all stepped into the room: Silva, the captain, Ripley, and Ulyseus. No, I thought, fighting back a deep, foreboding feeling. No more. No more. I was too weak, too tired to handle any more.

Starbuck's expression was solemn and resolute as he motioned for me to take the baby, then climbed slowly to his feet to face the men. I stood behind him, clinging to our still sleeping child. "What do you want?" he said.

Silva and Ripley had lasers pointed at us. The pilot graced us with a sneer; Silva's expression was impassive, unreadable.

Ulyseus studied us for almost a centon. "Come," was all he said, then turned on his heel and marched out, followed by the captain. Silva took Starbuck by the arm, carefully, I noted, and guided him out, while Ripley waved his laser at me. I steeled myself and followed them all out into the corridor. We walked in silence to the bridge, the only sounds the echoing clack of boots on the deck, the whining of the turbolift, the hissing of the doors. The little one continued to sleep, oblivious to how precarious were her first centars of life in the outside world.

The bridge was small and cramped, with little extra space than what was needed to man each station. Three others were at their posts and stared as we entered. We stopped in front of what looked like the communications console.

"Look," Starbuck finally said, frustration creeping into his voice. "What's going on? You told the commander that he had twenty-five centars. It's only been sixteen."

Ulyseus ignored him. He punched in a series of keys on the comm panel. Almost immediately, the vidscreen flashed on to show a grim-faced Commander Adama. "I want you to see just what is at stake as you plan any rescue attempt," said Ulyseus.

Silva and Ripley pushed us forward so that Starbuck, the baby, and I would be clearly visible. Although the rest of his expression remained unchanged, Adama's eyes went wide for a micron, then narrowed. "Are you - three - all right?" he asked.

"Relatively speaking," answered Starbuck.

Then we were pulled back. Ulyseus stepped back in front of us, blocking our view of the screen. "That shuttle you sent was not filled to capacity, as it should have been. I did not expect all of the supplies to be delivered at one time. However," he said, his voice menacing, "If what I suspect is true - that you are mounting some kind of rescue attempt - it will be a grave mistake on your part. That last shuttle should have been filled to capacity," he repeated.

"We wanted to get you the load as soon as possible," said Adama. "We did not fill the shuttle because we are waiting on shipments from the agro ship. It's that simple. We sent what we had at this time."

"You lie," said Ulyseus flatly. He turned and grabbed my arm, yanking me in front of him. The baby stirred but did not wake. "The child is safe," he stated. "but you forfeit the parents with your failure to completely comply." He turned to Silva. "Take the baby."

I heard a commotion behind Ulyseus, heard a scuffle, two loud thumps, and Starbuck's agonized groans. Ripley and the captain restraining him. Silva had moved beside me, reaching out for the baby. Although the he was staring at me, I saw the guard wince when it was obvious that one of the two had struck the lieutenant. Otherwise, he kept his expression impassive. With trembling arms, I passed the baby to Silva. He would protect her. He would. He would. I knew it. And that was what mattered most at that moment. As Silva slid his arm around her and she slipped from my fingers, Ulyseus pulled me back, gripping my shoulders tightly.

"Now wait!" said the commander. His unshakeable composure was starting to falter. Anger flashed through his eyes. "I assure you that we are not deceiving you. We did not have the other supplies yet. Do *not* do something rash."

"Correct or not," stated Ulyseus, "I stand by my instincts, and they tell me that you are not to be trusted." He slowly drew out his knife from its scabbard at his side. The blade glinted from the vidscreen's illumination.

"No!" came Starbuck's raspy voice. "Killing her would be a stupid move!"

Ulyseus turned so that we could both see him. He was questioning the security chief's tactics - the only way he could possibly get him to listen. I inhaled sharply when I saw Starbuck. He was kneeling on the deck, his arms wrapped around his middle, and he looked pale, too pale. "Explain," said Ulyseus.

Starbuck started to speak, then coughed, choking. He gagged and spit out. Blood. I felt faint and tried desperately to stay steady. He finally forced out the words. "Who's going to feed the baby if you kill her? You need her." He stopped, trying to catch his breath. He was groaning, wheezing, with each shallow inhalation. A lung, I realized in horror. The broken ribs, old ones or new ones, had punctured a lung. "You don't need me," he said, closing his eyes.

For a moment, the only sound was Starbuck's raspy breathing as Ulyseus considered his words. Then he turned back to the vidcreen. "I concede to the lieutenant's logic. It would not be worth the effort to keep him alive, anyway." He gazed at Silva, nodding briefly, but clearly communicating his intent to all with that simple motion. The guard gently handed me the baby and pulled me to the side. He withdrew his laser from his holster as Ripley and the captain dragged Starbuck to his feet and pushed him in front of the viewer. No, I thought desperately, he wouldn't, he can't, he won't!

"Wait!" yelled the commander. I heard other voices in the background, too, gasping, pleading. I wondered briefly if Reyana were there.

Ripley and the captain held Starbuck on his feet. His head was drooping; he was barely conscious. Ulyseus stepped away and pulled back the knife, preparing to plunge in into his chest. The security chief would be the executioner without a second thought, without remorse, without hesitation. Without compassion, as he paused briefly to stare at Adama.

"No!" The commander roared in frustration and impotence, all composure gone. He slammed a fist down, shaking the view on the screen. "Don't! Just listen!"

"There is nothing further to be said," stated Ulyseus. He turned his full attention to his victim. He pulled the knife back even further, ready to strike.

And then all Hades broke loose. The door to the bridge burst open with a loud explosion at the same instant that a blue beam seared into Ulyseus from behind. The security chief arched his back and collapsed in a heap, dead. The captain and Ripley let go of Starbuck, who sank to his knees, to grab their weapons and jump for cover. My last image, as I squeezed my eyes shut and dropped down low to cover the baby, pressing myself under a console, was of Starbuck's eyes rolling back into his head as he fell next to his would-be executioner.

For several centons, the sounds of laser fire screeched around me, ringing in my ears. Then silence. The ringing faded to a throb. I didn't move. I didn't open my eyes. I felt frozen, too afraid to find out what had happened, to find out who was alive and who was . . . dead. The baby was wriggling, crying, wailing now. I hugged her to me, rocking slightly, eyes still closed. A hand grasped my shoulder and eased me to my feet. "No," I moaned, a delayed reaction to that last vision. "No . . ."

"It's all right," said a familiar voice. "It's over." I opened my eyes to gaze into the face of Captain Apollo. He pulled me in close, carefully, embracing us both. "It's over," he whispered again.

He let go and I reluctantly pulled back to see . . . to see what had happened and if, and if - "Is he . . .?" I searched the captain's face for a sign of hope, but all I saw was pain. I choked back a sob.

"He's alive," Apollo said. "But just barely."

I compelled myself to look around. Three more bodies lay on the deck - Ripley, the captain, and one of the bridge crew. Silva and the other two stood against a wall, arms over their heads, as Boomer and another warrior pointed their lasers at them. I forced myself to look where Starbuck had fallen. He was on his back as a medtech, emergency kit by her side, worked frantically to insert a breathing tube down his airway. Cassiopeia turned to Apollo when she had finished. "We've got to get him back to the Galactica. Now."

Two more warriors and a security guard had entered the bridge. One, I noticed with a brief flash of satisfaction, was escorting a shackled and infuriated Siress Luwana. At least, out of all of this terrible mess, they had got her. May she rot in Hades, I thought bitterly, then focused on what Apollo was saying. " - guard the prisoners while Boomer and Castor help Cassiopeia. Can we move him?" Apollo asked her.

"We don't have a choice," she said. "He's losing blood and may suffocate if we don't hurry."

While the other warriors dealt with Luwana and the rest of the remaining mutineers, Boomer and the guard, Castor, carefully lifted the lieutenant, trying to hurry, yet not jar him too much.

"You go with them," Apollo said to me, nudging me. "You and the baby need medical attention, as well." I must have been in shock, too, because I felt totally numb, just barely hearing the baby's continued screams. I followed them out, leaving the captain and the others to finish securing the freighter. Before I left, I cast a quick glance at Silva. He caught my eye, then looked away. Later, I thought, later. We can sort it all out later. I knew Silva had fired the laser. Had shot Ulyseus, but whether or not he had saved the lieutenant remained to be seen.

Even at maximum velocity, it took the shuttle ten centons to reach the Galactica and another five to get Starbuck to the lifestation. Fifteen unbearable centons. Once the shuttle took off, Cassie had to closely monitor the lieutenant's breathing, pulse rate, and blood pressure. Still, she managed to pause long enough to ask how the baby and I were doing.

"Okay, I guess," was the best I could do.

The little one was proving that there was nothing wrong with her lungs. Her makeshift clothes were feeling damp and it had been centars since she had had any nourishment, so it was no wonder she kept complaining. The hunger I could try to deal with, but the wet towels were all we had, for now. "Just a little bit longer," I whispered to her as I pulled her close fumbling to help her nurse. I might have felt self conscious had I not been so exhausted. She settled down, feeding eagerly. I rocked with her, but I kept my eyes on her father.

Cassie, noticing my intent stare, tried to give me a reassuring smile. "He's hanging in there," she said. "We just have to get to the Galactica and get him into surgery to stop the bleeding and drain the lung. Then he'll be fine. He'll be fine."

She would have been more convincing had she not looked so worried as she continuously checked and rechecked his vital signs. And Starbuck was so still and limp, so pale beneath the mask that covered his face.

Too soon for the baby but after an agonizing wait for me, we finally landed. A team of medtechs and Dr. Salik were waiting in the landing bay. Cassie and another medtech tried to stop me as they pushed Starbuck off on a gurney. They had a wheelchair for me, I noticed, but I brushed them off insistently and followed anyway. When we finally hurried through the lifestation doors, Dr. Salik whisked the lieutenant away to a surgical chamber. I stopped in my tracks and stared blankly after them as the doors slid shut. Oh, frak, I thought, as I stood there, in the middle of the lifestation, clinging to the tiny new life, who was wailing and wailing, and fervently praying that her father would make it. I suddenly felt the grueling centars catch up with me. I felt dizzy and weak. Lightheaded. And I felt cramps, strong cramps. My knees began to buckle and a roar was building in my ears. Her cries faded into the distance as one, two hands grabbed me. I was vaguely aware of someone pulling the baby from my arms. Then nothing.

******** PART 12 Apollo and I were silent as we walked through the

corridors of the Galactica. I had fallen into step

and the sounds of our boots on the deckplates

reverberated through me with purpose. Apollo and I

walked into the Bachelor Pilots quarters to find the

usual confusion and chaos. Apollo barely raised his

voice. He took on a tone of command that I had rarely

heard from him.

"Starbuck's in trouble. I need volunteers."

Suddenly the room was quiet. Apollo said it again,

only quieter this time.

"Starbuck's in trouble. I need volunteers. Those

with zero g skills and high lazer range scores."

I was truly surprised when everyone in the room

swarmed around us, wanting to volunteer. It was

actually quite a while before someone asked what had

happened. That didn't seem important actually, what

was important was that Starbuck was in danger and

needed help.

Apollo quickly assembled the team he wanted and set

the others on alert in case things went wrong. He

asked that everyone stay close and not breathe a word

of what had gone down. It amazed me actually that

Apollo could think beyond the moment, to the

implications that this type of rebellion could have

upon the fleet.

I couldn't think that far ahead. I couldn't think at

all. I was wrestling down true panic that I had only

felt once before, a horrible helplessness that I

hadn't felt since the night on Pisceria when death

rained from the skies. I stood by Apollo's side as if

somehow that helped, so I'd be ready when I was

needed.

Apollo sent Bojay for Sheba and the rest of his select

team headed for the ready room. Commander Adama was

there when we arrived. He already had the schematics

for the freighter up on the viewscreen, the external

hatches labeled in blue. The weak points of the

engine were labeled in red. The plan sounded simple.

The shuttle would come in front of the freighter, fly

over, then bank for the landing bay. Just before

banking, the shuttle would slow and be precisely over

one of the external hatches. The team would drop

from the shuttle, and then make their way to the hatch

and enter the freighter just above the engines. At

that point they would proceed to the engine room,

disable the engines, then make their way to the bridge

in the confusion and take over the freighter.

It sounded simple enough in theory. But I could tell

by looking around the room at my superiors that it was

not going to be an easy mission. The drop itself was

probably the most dangerous aspect. It is not easy to

move around in zero g, then add to the equation the

propulsion of the shuttle. Then there was the hatch

to contend with. Would it be accessible? Or would it

be corroded and sealed like many of the hulls of these

old freighters. If the team had to cut through the

hatch, it could take centaurs, time we did not have.

I shuddered as I thought about it and said a prayer

that the hatch would work.

The commander asked for questions, but there were

none. Commander Adama turned the briefing back over

to Apollo. Apollo strode to the front of the room and

waited for the Commander to leave the room before he

started outlining the problem areas of the plan. He

of course thought of a lot more than I had. Not only

the problem of the hatch, but the problem of being

detected while attempting to enter the hatch. If they

were caught right away, then it would be a disaster.

It was obvious in Apollo's opinion that these animals

would have no hesitation in killing the rescuers and

then Starbuck and Aliana in turn.

As Apollo began to discuss the problems of disabling

the engines without blowing themselves up, I felt my

stomach begin twisting into knots. It just kept

running through my mind, no hesitation. They would

have no hesitation to kill. They had already killed

Shyra and tossed her aside like a broken toy. And now

there was the baby.

It was when Apollo started to map out the route they

would take to the bridge, and preparing them for the

eventuality that they may use Starbuck and Aliana as a

threat to halt their progress that I lost it. I tried

to leave the room quietly, I tried to sneak out, but I

tripped over my chair. I caught myself and staggered

for the door. The room was spinning, but I made it.

I didn't want to lose it in front of every one of my

superiors, I couldn't. But I couldn't keep it

together either. I couldn't fight the image of those

borays killing Aliana in cold blood, of the baby

dieing before it had a chance to be born.

I'm proud to say I made it outside the door before I

totally fell apart. I waited for the woosh of the

door before I dropped to my hands and knees on the

deck. I started sucking in air, trying to squelch the

sobs inside me. But I couldn't breath. It was like a

fist was squeezing my chest, my lungs, my heart. I

think I would have passed out if Boomer hadn't come

out and checked on me. He got me sat up, got me to

calm down and focus on taking a breath. It felt like

he was out there with me for an eternity before I was

able to pull it together. Boomer just kept chanting

to me, "It's going to be okay. It's going to be

okay." As he rubbed my back.

Once I was breathing regularly, he helped me to my

feet. I thought he was going to take me back in the

briefing room and I wasn't sure if I could face that,

the fact that my whole life rested in their hands and

they were enumerating the ways this could all go

wrong. I tried to speak, to tell him that, but Boomer

cut me off.

"You're going to the bridge. We need you for

updates."

He walked me to the bridge and no one seemed surprised

to see me there. In fact, the Commander was waiting

for me. He took my arm from Boomer and escorted me to

the stairs of the command center. He helped me to

take a seat on the stairs, then encouraged me to put

my head between my knees and just breath.

******** PART 13

I awoke to an eerie silence punctuated only by the steady beeping of a monitor and the faint sounds of quiet movement. For several moments, I lay with eyes closed, listening, trying to figure out where I was, what had happened. The beeping grew faster and more insistent, and I felt someone, something touch my arm. For an instant, Ulyseus's cold face flashed through my mind, and I recoiled, jerking back and opening my eyes with a gasp.

"Whoa! Take it easy!" said a familiar voice. "It's all right. It's me."

Reyana. My eyes found her face, and I breathed in heavy sighs of momentary relief. Then another jolt. "Oh, God," I whispered, as the memory of everything came crashing back to me.

"Take it easy," said Reyana , reaching out for my hand again. She sat next to the bed, cradling the baby, who was sleeping, her little face looking so calm and peaceful. Bed. I glanced around, realizing finally that I was in one of the small, separate rooms in the lifestation. Tubes ran into my left hand and wireless electrodes on my chest communicated to the panel above me, giving me an odd sensation as I could both hear and feel my heart rate slowing gradually. "You're safe now," Reyana said, smiling at me.

"How's . . .?" I managed to whisper. My throat felt incredibly dry.

The smile faded and Reyana looked down at the baby. "He's in surgery still. A medtech let us know just a little bit ago that they had repaired four ribs - two were cracked and two were snapped. Caused a lot of damage, too, and not just the lung, from the blows he took after the initial injury. Dr. Salik is working on mending things now." She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw. "Animals. . ."

"Oh, dear God," I muttered again, staring down at the sheets and feeling a growing anger and frustration at the injustice of it all. Such absurdity! How many times had Starbuck faced the Cylons and come through unscathed? How many times had he and the other warriors protected the Fleet - protected those responsible for our ordeal? But now, now he was fighting for his life because of the ruthless actions of humans. Humans! To care so little, to care only for themselves. They were worse than the Cylons. I despised them!

"He'll make it," said another familiar voice. I looked up to see that Boomer and the others had come in to stand next to Reyana - Apollo, Athena, Sheba, and even the commander were there. Boomer put a hand on my shoulder. "He's a fighter, remember?"

"Yeah, I know." I was not convinced; I felt, instead, a heavy, foreboding in my gut.

"How do you feel?" asked Sheba. Everyone was giving me an mixture of concerned, yet reassuring looks.

"Okay," I answered, feeling a bit calmer as I gazed at their faces. Faces I had truly not expected to see again. I settled my eyes on Sheba. "Just incredibly tired."

"Well, for the next secton, once you get out of here," stated Reyana, "you're going to get as close as we can come in this Fleet to a vacation. No duties, except a little mothering every three or four centars. Otherwise, you are to sleep, eat, watch vids, read, take a long bath - whatever you desire!"

I had to smile. Reyana was cradling the baby as if she had no intention of letting go. Had I not held the capstone card of being the only one who could feed the little one, I might have had to fight to hold my own baby for just a few centons. But for now I didn't mind. I felt too sore to sit up, too weak to want to support her in my arms. I followed the tube from my hand up to see a nearly empty transfusion bag. "What happened," I asked.

"Too much exertion," Reyana said quietly. "Improper care. You lost a lot of blood, too."

I looked around at all the caring faces again. I suddenly felt safe, safe at last. Finally. Apollo was watching me, I noticed. "Did you get them all?" I asked.

He nodded. "We think so. That woman, Siress . . ."

"Luwana." I spat the word and everyone gave me a curious look.

"Luwana," continued the captain, "made sure that we didn't overlook anyone. She put up a good struggle, at first, too," Apollo said, frowning. "She seems a bit a bit unbalanced."

"That's putting it mildly!" I closed my eyes, fighting back images of that mad woman and her abusive actions.

"Don't worry," said Apollo. "We've got enough evidence to put her and the others away for good. According to that security guard, Silva, she killed Shyra. For course, that's assuming that Silva is telling us the truth."

"No, I believe him!" I stated firmly, drawing more puzzled looks.

Adama finally came over and put a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "I can see that there are many details missing, still, but that can wait." He squeezed my shoulder and smiled. "We will hold the formal debriefing once Lt. Starbuck can join you." I looked into Adama's eyes and felt his confidence, his belief, that Starbuck would pull through this. " Until then, we've got plenty to sort out and keep us busy. You just rest and get better."

I nodded and finally returned my gaze to Reyana and the baby. The little one stirred, wiggled, started to cry. I held out my arms, giving Rey a lopsided grin. "My turn, I think," I said and looked uncomfortably towards everyone else, not really wanting them to go, but not used to my new role as mother enough to want them around while I fed the baby. Adama, however, motioned to the others, and they took their leave, filing out of the room, for now, leaving just Reyana, the baby, and me.

"We still don't have a name," I murmured a bit later.

"Well, let's see," said Reyana, holding up her fingers to keep a tally. "We've mentioned 'Moira,' 'Thalia,' 'Felicita.'" She paused to give me a wry smile. "Starbuck came up with 'Promethia' and 'Hermia.'"

I shook my head. "No. I don't think so!" I gazed down at the little one, who had fallen back to sleep, feeling odd and still unfamiliar with, yet very much connected to, this new life. She was so tiny, so light. But Reyana had told me that the Doctor Paye had given her a clean bill of health, having checked her over once I had been stabilized. She may have arrived three sectons early and in the middle of a nightmare, but her weight was fine and everything else was normal, too. I smiled and hugged her to me, then looked back at Reyana. "I think this discussion should wait . . ." I let my voice trail off.

"Yeah, I suppose it should," answered Reynana. She looked pensive for a moment, then determined. "He'll make it, you know," she stated. "He's not getting out of changing diapers that easily!"

As if on cue, the sound of the door opening stopped my response. We both looked over to see Dr. Salik coming through, his face . . . his face was - confident. I felt a wave of relief rush over me, and I grinned.

Reyana had jumped to her feet. "How is he? How'd it go?" She was firing off the questions at him.

He held up a hand to get her to give him a chance to speak. "He'll be fine," he said with a smile. "But to help give his body time to heal, I'm going to keep him sedated for the next 50 centars. After that, he'll need to take it easy for at least the next two sectons, more likely three." Salik gave an amused grin. "He'll have plenty of time to learn the fine skills of taking care of a baby and no excuse not to."

*********** PART 14 A little over two days later, Reyana and I and 'the Nameless One,' as Rey had taken to calling her, sat outside Starbuck's recovery room, awaiting our chance to finally see him and talk to him. We had visited a couple of times before, but the sight of him just lying there, so still and passive, his face still pale blotchy from the bruises, was just too much. It kept reminding me of the recent events, of the terrible insanity of both Luwana and Ulyseus, so different in their motivations, yet equally cold and unfeeling. And brutal. So, mostly, I had not come by during the past 50 centars. And for the past two nights cycles, Reyana had stayed with me, because every time I tried to sleep, those two had continuously invaded my dreams, sending me into cold shivers and panic attacks. Maybe, just maybe, I hoped, finally seeing Starbuck awake and talking to him would put my mind at ease and banish my two tormentors.

I hoped.

Finally, the door opened and Adama, Apollo, Athena, Sheba, and Boomer filed out. We had insisted that they all go in first, once he'd been brought out the sedation. Better to let them bring him up to speed and fill him in on what had happened. I didn't want to hear it again and had refused to go in with them. They had nodded, seeming to understand, and had not pressed the issue. Adama stopped in front of us. "He's asking, rather impatiently, to see you three," he said with a slight smile. He put a hand on Rey's shoulder, then on mine, then left without saying any more. The others trailed out behind him, giving us encouraging looks but knowing that we needed this time with him, alone.

I stood. My heart was racing, and I felt nervous for no valid reason that I could figure out. Reyana took my elbow to guide me along. "Come on," she said. "Everything's okay. He's fine!"

I took a deep breath and followed her into the room. I stopped just across the threshold as the door closed behind me and stared. Starbuck was sitting up, a mound of pillows behind him. A silver bandage was wrapped around his torso. His color had returned, but the telltale blotches, although fading, we still visible on his face.

He didn't notice us, at first, because he was intent on questioning Cassie about something. Until she nodded in our direction. Starbuck turned abruptly and broke out into a broad grin. "About time!" he said. "I was beginning to think you were avoiding me." He didn't even notice when the med tech left the room.

"No way!" quipped Reyana, strolling over to him. "You're already ten diapers behind, I figure!" He had his arms outstretched and she let him envelope her, carefully, burying her face against his shoulder. "I missed you," she said quietly.

I walked over more slowly, illogical worries and persistent fears finally fading, at least a bit, as I studied his face, that irresistible smile, those shining blue eyes, still full of life. I felt the tears brimming, but I was smiling, too. I looked down at our daughter to hide my eyes until I could regain control. I sat down on the edge of the bed as Reyana stepped back from Starbuck. I felt an arm across my shoulders, pulling me closer. Felt his cheek against mine as he wrapped the other arm across my waist and under the baby that I was cradling. "She beautiful," he whispered. He kissed my ear. "Are you okay?"

I twisted around to be able to see his face and nodded. "I am, I am now," I said, leaning in so that our daughter was nestled between us. I balanced the baby on my left arm and let my other hand glide up his chest. To have him so near again, to feel his warm again, was so comforting. "How about you?" I asked eventually.

"Just a little sore and tired. That's all." Starbuck caught my hand and pressed it against his cheek. "And glad to be back." He avoided my gaze, concentrating on the little one, instead, but I noted the deep relief in that brief, quick statement.

"Yeah, me, too." Starbuck was slipping his hands under the little bundle. "Can you lift her all right?" I asked.

He was going to take her, regardless of how he might be feeling, I saw, but he said, "It's okay. I can handle it."

I pulled back, and Reyana sat down next to me, grinning. We both noticed how lost in cooing to the baby he already was, even though she slept on. "Yep," whispered Rey, "we've got some stiff competition, I'd say."

"Hey!" I finally said, catching his attention. "We need to name her, you know."

"Yeah, that's right," said Reyana. "And if we don't do it soon, the guys in Fleet Records might simply assign her some horrible name to get her into the computer system. Seems there's some obscure Caprican law about newborns needing a legal name within 100 centars of their birth."

"Well," I said, feeling more at ease than I had felt in a while. "If we can't decide, maybe we should let the Blue Squadron pilots come up with something -"

"No way!" interrupted Starbuck. "They'd probably give her some weird name like 'Dalton'! Might as well name her 'Bob'!"

And we laughed. Lords, but it felt good to laugh. To be happy. And to be safe. Truly safe, because the black market ring had been, at long last, completely broken. I gazed into Starbuck's blue eyes and whispered, "Maybe we should name her 'Lucky,' after that 'Starbuck luck' of yours."

Starbuck chuckled, then he went quiet for a moment, thinking, staring off absently. "I know," he said at length. "What about 'Ila'?"

"'Ila?" I wasn't familiar with that one, but it sounded pleasant. "Why that?"

"It was Apollo's mother's name," he said quietly, "and Apollo's saved my neck more times than I can count. Including this last time."

"He had a little help, you know," I said, finally letting my mind consider events that I had so adamantly avoided thinking about over the past two days.

"I know," said Starbuck. "Silva. Apollo told me everything He said that if Silva hadn't shot Ulyseus from behind that I'd probably be dead now."

An awkward silence ensued until Reyana finally couldn't stand it any longer. "'Ila'!" she said brightly. "I like that. What do you think, Ali?"

"Yeah," I said, smiling, shoving aside all those conflicting thoughts of what would happen to the big guard. He'd gotten us into the whole mess, then saved us. It was too much to consider at that moment. Maybe later. For now, we had more important things to worry about. "I think 'Ila' is a great choice. Starbuck?"

"Fine. It's settled, then," he said, beaming and gazing back down at his daughter. "Hello, little Ila," he said.