"Sir, the computer's finished decoding the message Recon Patrol One intercepted." Omega turned to face the ensign that stood just behind him and, taking the page that was handed him, scanned it quickly.
"Is it bad?" Athena asked.
Only the slight widening of his eyes betrayed his surprise that she had come up behind him unnoticed. "Could be worse," he said as he passed it on to her.
Smiling her thanks, Athena took the offered paper. Then after reading it, she looked back up at him, her face taut. "It could?" she asked unsteadily.
"Well, they could already be here," he said pragmatically as he took the printed out back from her.
"True," she granted as she followed him down the dais steps. "So we've got about two days before the second ship rendezvous with the one that attacked us?" He nodded his agreement as he continued down the main station steps, then crossed in front of the helm station. "How long did Shadrick say the repairs would take?" she persisted as she followed him. It was all she could do not to slide down into a chair and wrap her arms around herself. Her anxiety had doubled in those few moments she had looked at the decoded transmission, and her over anxious nerves now seemed to be trying to turned her inside out. Her intestines had settled for wrapping themselves into knots.
He stopped just outside the bridge office and turned back toward her. "Longer than two days," he said quietly as he opened the door.
Athena watched him enter the room, the door closing behind him, then finally allowed herself to sink into a nearby chair.
___________________________________
The main lights were out in the computer room, but Starbuck could still see the dim light coming from the computer station in the back. He could just make out the dark hair over the back of the adjoining station as he threaded his way through the room. As he walked he took in the mess it was in now. Piles of printouts were strewn across the floor near the main station to his right. Even more printouts were piled all across a nearby table. Someone had stuck together pages of some diagram and tacked them to the wall. Then, in what to him looked like a haphazard fashion, they had attached even more pages over the main diagram.
As Starbuck came around the last set of computer stations, he could see that Apollo was staring intently at something on the screen before him. All about him, data discs were scattered around the station, and Apollo was concentrating so hard on the text before him that not only did he not notice Starbuck's arrival, he was even muttering out loud to himself as he read.
The scene was one from their past, and Starbuck smiled at the memory. How many times had he awoken at night to hear Apollo muttering, only to find him at their shared computer station, studying one of his textbooks before an exam?
"...after the Sythian disaster in 2986, various laws and interstellar regulations were soon developed concerning the use of the light-speed capable engines within a planetary system. Colonial regulation 1401, specifically states; ' No vessel shall under any circumstances ignite a Sythatic light-speed drive with in a parsec of a planetary system...' "
"Studying for an exam?" Starbuck interrupted.
"What?" Startled, Apollo looked up, momentarily confused, then his eyes widened as he recognized the reference. "No. No exams this time," he replied as he sat back in his chair and leaned as far back as he could, stretching his arms above his head. They both heard the sound of Apollo's back cracking and Starbuck laughed at the surprised look on Apollo's face.
"Yep, just what I thought. You're getting old. I, on the other hand, will never age," Starbuck said as he sat on the edge of the computer station. "What are you reading anyway? Sure sounds like a textbook."
"Synthatic engines: A technical and historic look at light speed," Apollo replied, still leaning back in his chair, his hands interlaced behind his head.
"Oh, lovely, some 'light' reading." Starbuck grinned as he picked up the data disc cover, "Why?"
Apollo yawned then sat back up. "Every bit of information helps. Besides, after talking to one of the synthatic engineers, I figured I needed more information on the subject if I was ever going to understand what he was trying to explain to me."
"Yeah, but technical manuals?" Starbuck picked up one on shuttles and looked at it skeptically.
"It's the best source of information on the details of how something works. If you wanted to know about, say, a certain regulation, you'd look the regulation itself up wouldn't you?"
"Not if I could avoid it!" Starbuck held up his hands as if to ward off something unpleasant. "Those regulations go on for pages, heck volumes. No, I'd just pull out my handy version of the officers best friend, 'Bluff Definitions.' "
Apollo rolled his eyes at Starbuck. "If you don't read the regulation then you won't know why it was instituted. The way I look at it, it can only help to know why a regulation exists instead of just that it exists. Take this one here." Reaching forward he tapped the computer screen before him. "Regulation 1401."
"No light speed in a planetary system." Starbuck answered without pause.
"Good. So you were paying attention to some of your classes back at the Academy? Or do you only know the BD abbreviation?" Apollo grinned at Starbuck. "Do you know why?"
"The Synthian Disaster," Starbuck replied, grinning back at Apollo, enjoying the challenge. This was like when they use to study for an exam. Apollo would fire questions at Starbuck until he was sure Starbuck understood the subject inside and out. Apollo had been a tough, if thorough, tutor.
"Yes, and what was the Synthian Disaster?" Apollo persisted as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. The sparkle in his eyes betraying his amusement.
"The Synthians ignited a light speed engine near their home planet, destroying it." Starbuck fired back, crossing his arms smugly.
"True, " Apollo said, but he had obviously not yet received the answer he wanted from Starbuck, so he continued. "So, how did that destroy the planet?"
"How?" Starbuck faltered . He unfolded his arms as he racked his brain for more information on the subject. "Does it matter?" he finally said, frustrated. "Just knowing it could destroy a planet is good enough to keep people from doing it." Starbuck had forgotten how annoying this game could be, especially when he'd run out of answers.
Apollo shook his head, realizing he was pushing Starbuck. "I guess, but unless we know what it did and why, how do we know we won't accidentally cause some other disaster simply because we didn't know all the facts?"
"I don't know," Starbuck admitted. " I guess that's why you get to make the decisions. You're good with all the extra details and stuff." He flashed Apollo a grin.
"I guess, but you're right. It is dry reading," Apollo said as he picked up a data disc, then tossed it back down, rejecting it. "I keep hoping to find out something, anything, that might make a difference in the long run." Apollo rubbed at his temples.
Starbuck watched as Apollo searched through the mess of printouts to his right, uncovering a small pile of medical packets that looked remarkably like the one he'd find in an emergency med kit, and shook his head. Some had already been opened and apparently used. "Salik won't like you stealing from his emergency kits."
"What he doesn't know won't hurt me," Apollo replied as he popped the purloined pills into his mouth and tried to wash them down with, what Starbuck figured from the grimace Apollo made, was very cold coffee.
Acutely aware now of his own tension-tight muscles, Starbuck rubbed at the back of his neck and thought about how long the past two cycles had been. It felt like they had been the longest since the Destruction. He watched as Apollo again rubbed at his temples and couldn't help but notice the strain that was showing on his friend. It showed in the rumpled clothing that Starbuck figured Apollo hadn't changed since the attack, in the bloodshot eyes that probably hadn't closed for more than a half dozen centons, at best. And, Starbuck was certain, the headache Apollo had was not merely brought on by stress, but severe fatigue.
"You know, some sleep would probably cure that headache, " Starbuck suggested. Apollo looked up at him and sighed.
"I don't have time," he said. "I've got to finish going through these repair requests from the department heads. Shadrick needs a prioritized list as soon as possible, so he can arrange his repairs and see which ones he'll need to add to the main repairs he's currently doing."
"So, why were you going through the technical manual then?" Starbuck asked as he took note of the report folders that had been partially hidden under the printouts.
"To try to understand what it was I was reading," Apollo said, exasperated. The momentary lightness their banter had affected seemed to evaporate as Apollo's eyes turned troubled. Running his hand through his hair, Apollo looked lost as he looked at the pile of reports, then down at the scattered discs around him. "I just feel so inadequate."
"You? Would you rather have *me* in charge?" Starbuck shot back.
Apollo gave a short laugh. "No."
"I didn't think so, " Starbuck replied grievously. He waited until Apollo shot him a contrite look then grinned back at him. "All you need is to remember you're not reviewing pilot reviews and Viper repair reports. You have others around you who can do this and", Starbuck paused as he caught Apollo's eye, "are trained to do this."
"I know, Starbuck. Its just Omega's swamped with extra work as it is. I couldn't just pile this on him, too. I wanted him to have a chance to actually *see* his new daughter for a few centars."
"Yes you can!" Starbuck corrected forcefully. "Anything he can't cover, he'll farm out to those below him, and they will in turn give theirs to the ones below them, and so goes the chain of command." Starbuck made a tsking noise as he dramatically shook his head. "Now, I *know* you need some sleep if you, the inventor of the 'pass the workload buck', has forgotten how the system works."
"Not completely. Just my control freak gene kicking in, I guess." Apollo chuckled back at him. "Starbuck, what would I do without you to keep me focused on the right perspective."
"I really don't know," he replied smugly. "I keep telling Boomer how invaluable I am." He grinned at Apollo. "So what did happen?"
"To what?" Apollo asked confused.
"The Sythian Disaster," Starbuck reminded him. "What did happen?"
"Oh. Well, apparently when they ignited the engine, its carbonic fusion assembly caused a chain reaction that ignited the planet's ionosphere. They said it was a firestorm that engulfed the entire planet's upper atmosphere. It's called the "Fireball" effect.
"So, it burned the planet?" Starbuck asked as he reached into his jacket's inner pocket and pulled out a fumerello.
"Well no, actually, the fireball didn't do that much damage to the planet itself. It was the loss of the ionosphere that doomed the planet. With the planet's natural filters burned off, it was vulnerable to its sun's more deadly rays."
"Solar and cosmic radiations?" Starbuck asked, looking over at Apollo as he bent his head to light his fumerello. He cupped his hand around the small flame from his pocket element. It was silly, he knew, because he was in no danger of a gust of wind blowing through the computer room and snuffing it out, but he'd never quite gotten out of the habit.
Apollo scowled at him and fanned his hand before his face to redirect the noxious fumes away from him. "Yeah, the flora and fauna were at the mercy of the sun's unfiltered rays."
"Hum, interesting, but, I don't see how knowing about the Fireball is any help, not unless you're planning on frying any passing planets." Starbuck stopped and took a long drag on his Fumerello, then deliberately blew it out in Apollo's direction as a demonstration of his own type of fireball.
Apollo vainly waved at the invading smoke. "Starbuck! Stop it," he protested. Starbuck just grinned back, as Apollo glared at him. "No, I'm not," Apollo protested, "but I have found some interesting information that could help."
"Really?" Starbuck asked, doubtful that anything useful could come from reading a technical manual. "You mean besides how to fry a planet in 1 easy step?"
Ignoring Starbuck's sarcasm, Apollo selected a new disc and inserted it into the disc reader, then handed the cover to Starbuck.
Starbuck raised an eyebrow cynically, "'Space travel. A history of interplanetary ships'," he read aloud, unimpressed.
He watched as Apollo searched through the papers and printouts on the desk. "As you know, we no longer have the ability to produce Sythianc engines," Apollo began.
"Not without a planet and a couple hundred Sythainc engineers - both of which we're short of, thanks to the Cylons," Starbuck agreed, disgruntled.
Apollo nodded in agreement. "Yes, but we are having limited success with the smaller turbo engines like the Vipers."
Starbuck tossed the disc cover back onto the desk, discouraged. "If they ever figure out how to cast the main turbine in zero gravity."
Having found the report he was looking for, Apollo handed it to Starbuck. "They have."
Astonished, Starbuck took the report. "Really?" he asked, then opened the cover and began flipping through the pages. "When did they figure that out?"
"I don't know but I found that on my father's desk, along with a request to test the prototype."
"Now that's promising. We could really use some new Vipers." He handed the report back to Apollo.
"I know, but - " and Apollo pointed back to the computer screen he'd called up. " - what I'd like to also produce are Methlium engines."
"Methlium?" Starbuck asked, staring at Apollo as if he'd just suggested using Cylon Raiders. "You mean 'Shit Ships'."
Apollo shook his head at Starbuck's words, correcting him. "Methlium engines."
"What good would producing Shit Ships..." At Apollo's stern look, Starbuck corrected himself, "Methlium engines, do us? They can't be used for the fleet ships and they don't produce enough power for the Vipers."
"True. Due to their high fuel consumption, we can't use them for the fleet ships, nor are they suitable for Vipers, but why not use them for the shuttles?" Apollo asked.
"Shuttles? Apollo, you've been buried in these manuals too long," Starbuck began.
Apollo held up his hand. "Now, hold on, Starbuck. Hear me out," he said. "The shuttles we have are on constant use throughout the fleet. It is the only way for the civilians to get from one ship to another, and unless we plan to isolate them on their various ships, we'll need to use the shuttles constantly for an indefinite period of time. The problem is they're consuming an incredible amount of our limited tylium supply."
Starbuck opened his mouth ready to protest, but this time Apollo held up both hands to forestall him. "Yes, one shuttle doesn't actually use that much fuel, as it only uses its engines to take off and land. But we're not talking one shuttle. We're talking forty-five shuttles on a constant circuit of the fleet. That's anywhere from twenty five to a hundred and twenty stops depending on the shuttle's route. We can only store so much tylium in the fleet, and the shuttles are using it up at an alarming rate. Heck, we spend half our time searching for tylium-rich asteroids and planetoids just to keep the fleet moving. I'd rather save the tylium that we use in the shuttles for the Vipers."
"I thought the Council had voted to ground most of the shuttles?" Starbuck interjected.
"Yes, they've voted to cut the shuttles back, but the last I heard, they were still bickering over the flight route of the reduced shuttle service." Apollo tilted back in his chair and stretched his arms above his head. "I assume that each one of them is arguing over which of the ships in their jurisdiction will be affected by the change." Apollo sat back up and tried to stifle a yawn." I don't know how they're going figure that one out?"
"They?" Starbuck pointed his fumerello at Apollo. "You're apart of that now, too, you know," he said.
"No, I'm not," Apollo retorted, leaning back in his chair again, his arms crossed.
"No?" Starbuck asked, perplexed. He pointed his fumerello at Apollo then back at himself. "Ah, you want to explain how that works to me?"
"Not really," Apollo waved his hand in an attempt to wave pass the subject, but at Starbuck's chagrin look, Apollo sat up and sighed. "Look, Starbuck. The short answer is - I'm no politician, and I have no plans on becoming one. I plan to leave the domestic disputes to the Council. That's what they're here for. Let them earn their stations."
"But you father.." Starbuck faltered.
"Was a politician. As much as he was the Commander, he was still a politician." Apollo looked over at Starbuck, needing him to understand. "It used to be, when the original Council of the Twelve was in session, that he was a Councilor first and the Commander of a warship second. After the destruction my father had to be a Commander first and a politician second. The roles of Military Leader and Council President were never meant to be shared by one person, and in my opinion, should never be again. The strain of holding both vital positions was too hard on him, and I feel it would have eventually undermined his authority. No one person should hold so much authority over the fleet." Apollo looked away, "Not even my father.".
Starbuck stared at Apollo, taken aback. It was as if he was seeing something in him he'd never noticed before. It wasn't as if Starbuck had never heard Apollo's view of politics before, but Starbuck realized something had changed in Apollo, and he was only just noticing the changes. "I always assumed you would want to step into his role with the Council too." Starbuck said, unsure how he felt about this change in his perceptions. "Apollo, if you let the Council have free range, without you there to stop them . . ." Starbuck stood up and faced Apollo, troubled about the situation. "Can you imagine the plain idiotic, stupid mistakes they'd make regarding the Galactica and the fleet? I know I don't want to even consider it as a joke." He turned away, agitated.
"I never said I'd let them make any decision regarding the Galactica." Apollo said softly.
Starbuck turned back to him. "But if you're not going to be on the Council, how would you prevent it?"
Apollo stood up, facing Starbuck, his eyes serious, "The Galactica and the fleet's safety are no longer the Council's concerns. The Council will continue to oversee the civilian population and their problems, but," and Apollo put his hand on Starbuck's shoulder, "they will never make any military decisions that will endanger this fleet again."
Starbuck shook his head, unconvinced. "Nice thought, but just how do you plan to convince the Council to agree to this?" he asked.
Apollo dropped his hand and grinned at Starbuck, his expression in no way lightened. "Who said I was going to ask them?"
Starbuck faltered, stunned.
"Look," Apollo continued. "My father interacted with them as a politician. That's what he was good at, far better than I'd ever want or could be. I don't plan on being that nice. I'm a warrior, and currently in command of the Galactica. They are not. We are currently in a state of war and running under Military Law. I have no intention of changing that status as long as we are out here trying to survive the Cylons." Apollo's eyes begged Starbuck to support him in this.
"Apollo, I..." Starbuck hesitated, then watched Apollo as he began to understand the changes he could see in him. "And you thought you were inadequate for the job?" he said in admiration. Taking a step back Starbuck placed his feet firmly together and smartly came to attention and saluted Apollo.
Sarcastically, Apollo grinned at Starbuck. But as Starbuck remained stiffly at attention, holding the salute, the grin began to fade and Starbuck could tell Apollo realized this was no joke. Solemnly, Apollo stood up straight and smartly saluted back at him.
Lowering his arm, Starbuck realized that this was probably the only real salute he's ever given Apollo. A fact he could tell Apollo was also well aware of as they stood there staring at each other, realizing that their friendship had somehow changed and only time would tell to what extent.
Breaking the tableau, Apollo gestured awkwardly to Starbuck's head. "So how's the head?" he asked, in an obvious attempt to dispel the uneasy feelings that had come between them.
"Ear," Starbuck corrected.
"Huh?"
"I didn't hurt my head, I hurt my ear," he explained quietly, still a bit unsettled.
"Well, I see it hasn't stopped your smug disposition," Apollo attempted to joke back at him.
Starbuck grumbled under his breath, not up for the argument he had so eagerly anticipated earlier.
Leaning forward, Apollo asked, "What was that?"
"It was a coolant leak," he answered, "I checked."
"I know," Apollo admitted, "I got the report from Barton."
"I told you I knew what I was doing," Starbuck complained, his earlier ire returning. When he had gotten the report on his Viper he had come up to dispute Apollo's actions. Apollo should have trusted his ability to assess the situation correctly.
"It doesn't change a thing, Starbuck," Apollo said gently. "We still couldn't take the risk."
"Yeah, I know, it's just..." and Starbuck raised his arm trying to express his earlier feelings.
"Unseemly to have to be carried?" Apollo answered for him.
"Yeah, I guess, " he said dropping his arms, then pointed at Apollo, "Darn bad for my reputation you know."
"I know," Apollo said, understanding what Starbuck couldn't find the words for. "You'll just have to bask in the glory of your find instead.".
"If they can figure it out."
"Give them time, they will," Apollo said, with more certainly than Starbuck would give that team of scientists.
"Speaking of time . . . " Starbuck turned serious. "How much do we have?"
Apollo sighed. "Not enough."
Starbuck sat back down on the desk. He could tell he wasn't going to like this answer.
"The second base ship should rendezvous with them in two days. Omega's estimated four days at the most before that second base ship will be in range to hit us."
Starbuck jumped up off the desk, his unease of a moment ago easily turning into an impotent rage. "A lot of good getting that frakkin message here does if we can't use the information!" he complained bitterly as he paced the small area behind the desk.
"Well, I've been thinking about that," Apollo admitted softly.
Apollo's tone brought him to an abrupt stop, and he could felt his grin returning as he turned to face Apollo, "Oh? What's your plan?"
"Is it bad?" Athena asked.
Only the slight widening of his eyes betrayed his surprise that she had come up behind him unnoticed. "Could be worse," he said as he passed it on to her.
Smiling her thanks, Athena took the offered paper. Then after reading it, she looked back up at him, her face taut. "It could?" she asked unsteadily.
"Well, they could already be here," he said pragmatically as he took the printed out back from her.
"True," she granted as she followed him down the dais steps. "So we've got about two days before the second ship rendezvous with the one that attacked us?" He nodded his agreement as he continued down the main station steps, then crossed in front of the helm station. "How long did Shadrick say the repairs would take?" she persisted as she followed him. It was all she could do not to slide down into a chair and wrap her arms around herself. Her anxiety had doubled in those few moments she had looked at the decoded transmission, and her over anxious nerves now seemed to be trying to turned her inside out. Her intestines had settled for wrapping themselves into knots.
He stopped just outside the bridge office and turned back toward her. "Longer than two days," he said quietly as he opened the door.
Athena watched him enter the room, the door closing behind him, then finally allowed herself to sink into a nearby chair.
___________________________________
The main lights were out in the computer room, but Starbuck could still see the dim light coming from the computer station in the back. He could just make out the dark hair over the back of the adjoining station as he threaded his way through the room. As he walked he took in the mess it was in now. Piles of printouts were strewn across the floor near the main station to his right. Even more printouts were piled all across a nearby table. Someone had stuck together pages of some diagram and tacked them to the wall. Then, in what to him looked like a haphazard fashion, they had attached even more pages over the main diagram.
As Starbuck came around the last set of computer stations, he could see that Apollo was staring intently at something on the screen before him. All about him, data discs were scattered around the station, and Apollo was concentrating so hard on the text before him that not only did he not notice Starbuck's arrival, he was even muttering out loud to himself as he read.
The scene was one from their past, and Starbuck smiled at the memory. How many times had he awoken at night to hear Apollo muttering, only to find him at their shared computer station, studying one of his textbooks before an exam?
"...after the Sythian disaster in 2986, various laws and interstellar regulations were soon developed concerning the use of the light-speed capable engines within a planetary system. Colonial regulation 1401, specifically states; ' No vessel shall under any circumstances ignite a Sythatic light-speed drive with in a parsec of a planetary system...' "
"Studying for an exam?" Starbuck interrupted.
"What?" Startled, Apollo looked up, momentarily confused, then his eyes widened as he recognized the reference. "No. No exams this time," he replied as he sat back in his chair and leaned as far back as he could, stretching his arms above his head. They both heard the sound of Apollo's back cracking and Starbuck laughed at the surprised look on Apollo's face.
"Yep, just what I thought. You're getting old. I, on the other hand, will never age," Starbuck said as he sat on the edge of the computer station. "What are you reading anyway? Sure sounds like a textbook."
"Synthatic engines: A technical and historic look at light speed," Apollo replied, still leaning back in his chair, his hands interlaced behind his head.
"Oh, lovely, some 'light' reading." Starbuck grinned as he picked up the data disc cover, "Why?"
Apollo yawned then sat back up. "Every bit of information helps. Besides, after talking to one of the synthatic engineers, I figured I needed more information on the subject if I was ever going to understand what he was trying to explain to me."
"Yeah, but technical manuals?" Starbuck picked up one on shuttles and looked at it skeptically.
"It's the best source of information on the details of how something works. If you wanted to know about, say, a certain regulation, you'd look the regulation itself up wouldn't you?"
"Not if I could avoid it!" Starbuck held up his hands as if to ward off something unpleasant. "Those regulations go on for pages, heck volumes. No, I'd just pull out my handy version of the officers best friend, 'Bluff Definitions.' "
Apollo rolled his eyes at Starbuck. "If you don't read the regulation then you won't know why it was instituted. The way I look at it, it can only help to know why a regulation exists instead of just that it exists. Take this one here." Reaching forward he tapped the computer screen before him. "Regulation 1401."
"No light speed in a planetary system." Starbuck answered without pause.
"Good. So you were paying attention to some of your classes back at the Academy? Or do you only know the BD abbreviation?" Apollo grinned at Starbuck. "Do you know why?"
"The Synthian Disaster," Starbuck replied, grinning back at Apollo, enjoying the challenge. This was like when they use to study for an exam. Apollo would fire questions at Starbuck until he was sure Starbuck understood the subject inside and out. Apollo had been a tough, if thorough, tutor.
"Yes, and what was the Synthian Disaster?" Apollo persisted as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. The sparkle in his eyes betraying his amusement.
"The Synthians ignited a light speed engine near their home planet, destroying it." Starbuck fired back, crossing his arms smugly.
"True, " Apollo said, but he had obviously not yet received the answer he wanted from Starbuck, so he continued. "So, how did that destroy the planet?"
"How?" Starbuck faltered . He unfolded his arms as he racked his brain for more information on the subject. "Does it matter?" he finally said, frustrated. "Just knowing it could destroy a planet is good enough to keep people from doing it." Starbuck had forgotten how annoying this game could be, especially when he'd run out of answers.
Apollo shook his head, realizing he was pushing Starbuck. "I guess, but unless we know what it did and why, how do we know we won't accidentally cause some other disaster simply because we didn't know all the facts?"
"I don't know," Starbuck admitted. " I guess that's why you get to make the decisions. You're good with all the extra details and stuff." He flashed Apollo a grin.
"I guess, but you're right. It is dry reading," Apollo said as he picked up a data disc, then tossed it back down, rejecting it. "I keep hoping to find out something, anything, that might make a difference in the long run." Apollo rubbed at his temples.
Starbuck watched as Apollo searched through the mess of printouts to his right, uncovering a small pile of medical packets that looked remarkably like the one he'd find in an emergency med kit, and shook his head. Some had already been opened and apparently used. "Salik won't like you stealing from his emergency kits."
"What he doesn't know won't hurt me," Apollo replied as he popped the purloined pills into his mouth and tried to wash them down with, what Starbuck figured from the grimace Apollo made, was very cold coffee.
Acutely aware now of his own tension-tight muscles, Starbuck rubbed at the back of his neck and thought about how long the past two cycles had been. It felt like they had been the longest since the Destruction. He watched as Apollo again rubbed at his temples and couldn't help but notice the strain that was showing on his friend. It showed in the rumpled clothing that Starbuck figured Apollo hadn't changed since the attack, in the bloodshot eyes that probably hadn't closed for more than a half dozen centons, at best. And, Starbuck was certain, the headache Apollo had was not merely brought on by stress, but severe fatigue.
"You know, some sleep would probably cure that headache, " Starbuck suggested. Apollo looked up at him and sighed.
"I don't have time," he said. "I've got to finish going through these repair requests from the department heads. Shadrick needs a prioritized list as soon as possible, so he can arrange his repairs and see which ones he'll need to add to the main repairs he's currently doing."
"So, why were you going through the technical manual then?" Starbuck asked as he took note of the report folders that had been partially hidden under the printouts.
"To try to understand what it was I was reading," Apollo said, exasperated. The momentary lightness their banter had affected seemed to evaporate as Apollo's eyes turned troubled. Running his hand through his hair, Apollo looked lost as he looked at the pile of reports, then down at the scattered discs around him. "I just feel so inadequate."
"You? Would you rather have *me* in charge?" Starbuck shot back.
Apollo gave a short laugh. "No."
"I didn't think so, " Starbuck replied grievously. He waited until Apollo shot him a contrite look then grinned back at him. "All you need is to remember you're not reviewing pilot reviews and Viper repair reports. You have others around you who can do this and", Starbuck paused as he caught Apollo's eye, "are trained to do this."
"I know, Starbuck. Its just Omega's swamped with extra work as it is. I couldn't just pile this on him, too. I wanted him to have a chance to actually *see* his new daughter for a few centars."
"Yes you can!" Starbuck corrected forcefully. "Anything he can't cover, he'll farm out to those below him, and they will in turn give theirs to the ones below them, and so goes the chain of command." Starbuck made a tsking noise as he dramatically shook his head. "Now, I *know* you need some sleep if you, the inventor of the 'pass the workload buck', has forgotten how the system works."
"Not completely. Just my control freak gene kicking in, I guess." Apollo chuckled back at him. "Starbuck, what would I do without you to keep me focused on the right perspective."
"I really don't know," he replied smugly. "I keep telling Boomer how invaluable I am." He grinned at Apollo. "So what did happen?"
"To what?" Apollo asked confused.
"The Sythian Disaster," Starbuck reminded him. "What did happen?"
"Oh. Well, apparently when they ignited the engine, its carbonic fusion assembly caused a chain reaction that ignited the planet's ionosphere. They said it was a firestorm that engulfed the entire planet's upper atmosphere. It's called the "Fireball" effect.
"So, it burned the planet?" Starbuck asked as he reached into his jacket's inner pocket and pulled out a fumerello.
"Well no, actually, the fireball didn't do that much damage to the planet itself. It was the loss of the ionosphere that doomed the planet. With the planet's natural filters burned off, it was vulnerable to its sun's more deadly rays."
"Solar and cosmic radiations?" Starbuck asked, looking over at Apollo as he bent his head to light his fumerello. He cupped his hand around the small flame from his pocket element. It was silly, he knew, because he was in no danger of a gust of wind blowing through the computer room and snuffing it out, but he'd never quite gotten out of the habit.
Apollo scowled at him and fanned his hand before his face to redirect the noxious fumes away from him. "Yeah, the flora and fauna were at the mercy of the sun's unfiltered rays."
"Hum, interesting, but, I don't see how knowing about the Fireball is any help, not unless you're planning on frying any passing planets." Starbuck stopped and took a long drag on his Fumerello, then deliberately blew it out in Apollo's direction as a demonstration of his own type of fireball.
Apollo vainly waved at the invading smoke. "Starbuck! Stop it," he protested. Starbuck just grinned back, as Apollo glared at him. "No, I'm not," Apollo protested, "but I have found some interesting information that could help."
"Really?" Starbuck asked, doubtful that anything useful could come from reading a technical manual. "You mean besides how to fry a planet in 1 easy step?"
Ignoring Starbuck's sarcasm, Apollo selected a new disc and inserted it into the disc reader, then handed the cover to Starbuck.
Starbuck raised an eyebrow cynically, "'Space travel. A history of interplanetary ships'," he read aloud, unimpressed.
He watched as Apollo searched through the papers and printouts on the desk. "As you know, we no longer have the ability to produce Sythianc engines," Apollo began.
"Not without a planet and a couple hundred Sythainc engineers - both of which we're short of, thanks to the Cylons," Starbuck agreed, disgruntled.
Apollo nodded in agreement. "Yes, but we are having limited success with the smaller turbo engines like the Vipers."
Starbuck tossed the disc cover back onto the desk, discouraged. "If they ever figure out how to cast the main turbine in zero gravity."
Having found the report he was looking for, Apollo handed it to Starbuck. "They have."
Astonished, Starbuck took the report. "Really?" he asked, then opened the cover and began flipping through the pages. "When did they figure that out?"
"I don't know but I found that on my father's desk, along with a request to test the prototype."
"Now that's promising. We could really use some new Vipers." He handed the report back to Apollo.
"I know, but - " and Apollo pointed back to the computer screen he'd called up. " - what I'd like to also produce are Methlium engines."
"Methlium?" Starbuck asked, staring at Apollo as if he'd just suggested using Cylon Raiders. "You mean 'Shit Ships'."
Apollo shook his head at Starbuck's words, correcting him. "Methlium engines."
"What good would producing Shit Ships..." At Apollo's stern look, Starbuck corrected himself, "Methlium engines, do us? They can't be used for the fleet ships and they don't produce enough power for the Vipers."
"True. Due to their high fuel consumption, we can't use them for the fleet ships, nor are they suitable for Vipers, but why not use them for the shuttles?" Apollo asked.
"Shuttles? Apollo, you've been buried in these manuals too long," Starbuck began.
Apollo held up his hand. "Now, hold on, Starbuck. Hear me out," he said. "The shuttles we have are on constant use throughout the fleet. It is the only way for the civilians to get from one ship to another, and unless we plan to isolate them on their various ships, we'll need to use the shuttles constantly for an indefinite period of time. The problem is they're consuming an incredible amount of our limited tylium supply."
Starbuck opened his mouth ready to protest, but this time Apollo held up both hands to forestall him. "Yes, one shuttle doesn't actually use that much fuel, as it only uses its engines to take off and land. But we're not talking one shuttle. We're talking forty-five shuttles on a constant circuit of the fleet. That's anywhere from twenty five to a hundred and twenty stops depending on the shuttle's route. We can only store so much tylium in the fleet, and the shuttles are using it up at an alarming rate. Heck, we spend half our time searching for tylium-rich asteroids and planetoids just to keep the fleet moving. I'd rather save the tylium that we use in the shuttles for the Vipers."
"I thought the Council had voted to ground most of the shuttles?" Starbuck interjected.
"Yes, they've voted to cut the shuttles back, but the last I heard, they were still bickering over the flight route of the reduced shuttle service." Apollo tilted back in his chair and stretched his arms above his head. "I assume that each one of them is arguing over which of the ships in their jurisdiction will be affected by the change." Apollo sat back up and tried to stifle a yawn." I don't know how they're going figure that one out?"
"They?" Starbuck pointed his fumerello at Apollo. "You're apart of that now, too, you know," he said.
"No, I'm not," Apollo retorted, leaning back in his chair again, his arms crossed.
"No?" Starbuck asked, perplexed. He pointed his fumerello at Apollo then back at himself. "Ah, you want to explain how that works to me?"
"Not really," Apollo waved his hand in an attempt to wave pass the subject, but at Starbuck's chagrin look, Apollo sat up and sighed. "Look, Starbuck. The short answer is - I'm no politician, and I have no plans on becoming one. I plan to leave the domestic disputes to the Council. That's what they're here for. Let them earn their stations."
"But you father.." Starbuck faltered.
"Was a politician. As much as he was the Commander, he was still a politician." Apollo looked over at Starbuck, needing him to understand. "It used to be, when the original Council of the Twelve was in session, that he was a Councilor first and the Commander of a warship second. After the destruction my father had to be a Commander first and a politician second. The roles of Military Leader and Council President were never meant to be shared by one person, and in my opinion, should never be again. The strain of holding both vital positions was too hard on him, and I feel it would have eventually undermined his authority. No one person should hold so much authority over the fleet." Apollo looked away, "Not even my father.".
Starbuck stared at Apollo, taken aback. It was as if he was seeing something in him he'd never noticed before. It wasn't as if Starbuck had never heard Apollo's view of politics before, but Starbuck realized something had changed in Apollo, and he was only just noticing the changes. "I always assumed you would want to step into his role with the Council too." Starbuck said, unsure how he felt about this change in his perceptions. "Apollo, if you let the Council have free range, without you there to stop them . . ." Starbuck stood up and faced Apollo, troubled about the situation. "Can you imagine the plain idiotic, stupid mistakes they'd make regarding the Galactica and the fleet? I know I don't want to even consider it as a joke." He turned away, agitated.
"I never said I'd let them make any decision regarding the Galactica." Apollo said softly.
Starbuck turned back to him. "But if you're not going to be on the Council, how would you prevent it?"
Apollo stood up, facing Starbuck, his eyes serious, "The Galactica and the fleet's safety are no longer the Council's concerns. The Council will continue to oversee the civilian population and their problems, but," and Apollo put his hand on Starbuck's shoulder, "they will never make any military decisions that will endanger this fleet again."
Starbuck shook his head, unconvinced. "Nice thought, but just how do you plan to convince the Council to agree to this?" he asked.
Apollo dropped his hand and grinned at Starbuck, his expression in no way lightened. "Who said I was going to ask them?"
Starbuck faltered, stunned.
"Look," Apollo continued. "My father interacted with them as a politician. That's what he was good at, far better than I'd ever want or could be. I don't plan on being that nice. I'm a warrior, and currently in command of the Galactica. They are not. We are currently in a state of war and running under Military Law. I have no intention of changing that status as long as we are out here trying to survive the Cylons." Apollo's eyes begged Starbuck to support him in this.
"Apollo, I..." Starbuck hesitated, then watched Apollo as he began to understand the changes he could see in him. "And you thought you were inadequate for the job?" he said in admiration. Taking a step back Starbuck placed his feet firmly together and smartly came to attention and saluted Apollo.
Sarcastically, Apollo grinned at Starbuck. But as Starbuck remained stiffly at attention, holding the salute, the grin began to fade and Starbuck could tell Apollo realized this was no joke. Solemnly, Apollo stood up straight and smartly saluted back at him.
Lowering his arm, Starbuck realized that this was probably the only real salute he's ever given Apollo. A fact he could tell Apollo was also well aware of as they stood there staring at each other, realizing that their friendship had somehow changed and only time would tell to what extent.
Breaking the tableau, Apollo gestured awkwardly to Starbuck's head. "So how's the head?" he asked, in an obvious attempt to dispel the uneasy feelings that had come between them.
"Ear," Starbuck corrected.
"Huh?"
"I didn't hurt my head, I hurt my ear," he explained quietly, still a bit unsettled.
"Well, I see it hasn't stopped your smug disposition," Apollo attempted to joke back at him.
Starbuck grumbled under his breath, not up for the argument he had so eagerly anticipated earlier.
Leaning forward, Apollo asked, "What was that?"
"It was a coolant leak," he answered, "I checked."
"I know," Apollo admitted, "I got the report from Barton."
"I told you I knew what I was doing," Starbuck complained, his earlier ire returning. When he had gotten the report on his Viper he had come up to dispute Apollo's actions. Apollo should have trusted his ability to assess the situation correctly.
"It doesn't change a thing, Starbuck," Apollo said gently. "We still couldn't take the risk."
"Yeah, I know, it's just..." and Starbuck raised his arm trying to express his earlier feelings.
"Unseemly to have to be carried?" Apollo answered for him.
"Yeah, I guess, " he said dropping his arms, then pointed at Apollo, "Darn bad for my reputation you know."
"I know," Apollo said, understanding what Starbuck couldn't find the words for. "You'll just have to bask in the glory of your find instead.".
"If they can figure it out."
"Give them time, they will," Apollo said, with more certainly than Starbuck would give that team of scientists.
"Speaking of time . . . " Starbuck turned serious. "How much do we have?"
Apollo sighed. "Not enough."
Starbuck sat back down on the desk. He could tell he wasn't going to like this answer.
"The second base ship should rendezvous with them in two days. Omega's estimated four days at the most before that second base ship will be in range to hit us."
Starbuck jumped up off the desk, his unease of a moment ago easily turning into an impotent rage. "A lot of good getting that frakkin message here does if we can't use the information!" he complained bitterly as he paced the small area behind the desk.
"Well, I've been thinking about that," Apollo admitted softly.
Apollo's tone brought him to an abrupt stop, and he could felt his grin returning as he turned to face Apollo, "Oh? What's your plan?"