Michael awoke slowly. Damn, his head hurt. He looked up to find a quirk of a smile plastered on a man's face hovering over him. "Archie?" he whispered.
"Lords, I hope not." Lee smiled. "I was kidded enough as child because of the name Lee."
"Sir?" Michael struggled to get up. "What...Why..."
"I got a little worried when you didn't show up with breakfast. I damn near panicked when I didn't see my shadow all the way through my med exam, which you will be happy to hear I passed."
"Sorry, sir. I had a hard time sleeping last night," Michael whispered.
"Don't let that get around you might end up with a shadow of your own," Lee smirked.
"So, you are free," Michael commented, changing the subject. "Then I should visit your father, uh, the commander, and give him a full report, so I might return to my usual duties." Michael got up, was slightly wobbly. "I am sure you will be glad to get rid of me," Michael added with a smile.
"Actually, you were starting to grow on me," Lee said with a shrug.
"...like a fungus," Michael finished.
"I want to thank you for all you did while I was...out of service." Lee extended his hand, which Michael firmly grasped.
"The honor was mine." He smiled, and then releasing his hand, he snapped a smart salute.
Lee returned the salute and then left the room.
Michael quickly collapsed back onto his bunk, pressing his forearm over his eyes. "Lords of Kobol, hear my plea. Please let me stay long enough to save him, and open his father's eyes and heart to what needs to be done."
Lee walked into the flight ready room where he found Kara and Justin, a young rookie who had survived from the Columbia, sitting at the table talking over a cup of simulated coffee and looking over a computerized star chart of the Fleet position.
"Gone a few days and everyone forgets SOP's for officers entering a room."
Justin, a tall lanky kid they called "Cardboard" because of his slim build and dark coloring, nearly knocked himself out on the drafas port attempting to straighten up and salute.
Apollo quickly returned the salute and made sure the rook was okay before dismissing him. "You got the rest of the shift off, Cardboard, go by and check the new schedule and then get some rest."
"I take it you have been cleared for duty, Captain?" Starbuck asked smugly
"No, Lieutenant," he returned, "I decided to take a page out of your book and do what I wanted when I wanted."
Justin just stared at the two of them, not sure if he was really dismissed or this was some kind of game. "Sirs?"
Starbuck laughed, "It's okay, Cardboard, Apollo here couldn't break a rule with a battering ram."
Justin then saluted both his superiors and left the room.
"A battering ram?" Apollo queried, his eyebrows arching curiously.
"Hey, the truth is the truth."
"And you would know the truth... How?"
"First thing they taught us in the academy... In order to fight or avoid your enemy you first must know them."
"Ah... to avoid the truth you have to know the ... got it. "
She just smiled innocently. "I take it you're ready to fly."
"Oh yes," he laughed.
At this moment in time even he would not fully understand how much he wanted to be up in that bird.
"Then lets go," she returned.
They left the room and headed to the launch bay. Starbuck quickly caught him up on the flight area and star chart that had already been loaded into the flight nav computers on the vipers.
Lee's Mark VII was on the launch pad. A member of his flight crew managed to stop him long enough to welcome him back, as he placed the lock collar around the neck of his flight suit. They both climbed into their respective vipers and closed the hatches.
"Apollo?" Kara whispered. "You did get your clearance for flight, right?"
Apollo just smiled innocently. Signaling the launch officer, his viper slid into the launch tube. He went through the pre-launch SOP and signaled the all ready; all clear.
His ship ejected from the launch pad.
A gentle knock at the door pulled the commander from his stack of paperwork. "Enter," he announced, almost glad for the distraction. Michael entered the room; the light smile across this face was barely noticeable against his unusually pale skin. A quick salute to satisfy the formalities, he motioned to the chair across from the desk. "Michael."
Michael came in and set his own stack of reports onto the commander's desk. "Captain Adama has been cleared for duty, sir," he announced.
"That is good to hear, I am sure he is itching to get back out on patrol," the commander mumbled. "I would be willing to wager he is right now changing the schedule to place himself on the next patrol of this ship."
"You'd lose sir." Michael weakly smiled, adding, "He changed the schedule before he even went to his appointment and is currently on patrol with Lt. Thrace."
Adama leaned back in his chair. A hint of memory passed his eyes.
"You miss flying, don't you, sir."
"Almost as much as I would miss breathing."
Moments of silence seemed to pique Adama's curiosity and plummet Michael's courage.
Finally, it was the commander who broke the quiet.
"Something troubles you, Michael," the elder announced. "Is everything alright?"
"Sir, I understand you're busy, but there is something I need to speak with you about... I ... I am not sure how to... approach this."
"Michael, you have been my secretary for the past two years. I think that by now you would have gotten over your fear of my status."
"I like to think of it as a healthy respect, sir...not fear," he rebutted with a grin that quickly faded. "We have often spoken of the Gemmon sect, its workings and how I came to be... what I am." He paused just long enough to suck in his next breath. "I am not the only Gemmon High Priest you have encountered."
"Ensign," the commander interrupted, "If this is leading where I think it is leading, I can not ...no, will not, discuss it."
"I'm sorry, sir, but I don't believe I have the time or the power to debate this. Actually, I would like to speak to you as Apollo's father, not as the commander."
The commander stood from his chair, staring back at the man who had just made a rather strange request. "I will not discuss this with you at all."
"I need to talk to the man who has traveled through time and space," Michael insisted, now talking faster than he dared think possible. "The man, who before his sons were born, was more than a mere warrior, he was an Old Soul; a traveler."
"Michael I don't know what you think you know, but I suggest you forget it."
"I have, for more than thirty-eight years, but now it is a matter of life and death."
"Thirty eight years? You are not thirty yourself."
Michael pointed at his circlet. "I hold the memories of the one who taught you to fly in a whole different way."
"Dainor," Adama whispered, recalling the words of his old mentor. "He was only a kid when I participated in that experiment. There was only one of the hundreds of candidates in that military experiment that crossed over and lived to tell or not tell about it as it were. Dainor died only two years after the experiment. As with most of the latter Gemmon High Priests, he did not live to see his teenaged years. Until me, few ever reached the age of ten. I have seen more years than that of most my brethren. Since the time of the first Cylon war."
"That would explain why the Gemmon were dead set against allowing you to become a military officer, but it does not explain why you are dead set on destroying the career by ignoring me."
It did not take a genius to know that the ensign had crossed a line very few lived to tell about; still there was not any reason to stop now.
"The point here is that I, too, am a traveler, as I know you are a traveler. What I need to know, is do you or Lee know that he is a traveler, too? "
"My son...what does this have to do with Lee?" Adama watched as all the color drained from his young ensign, his eyes closing slowly and seeming to struggle for his next breath
"If he doesn't know, then I believe that his recent illness was not medical or even physical, but spiritual born. Somehow, your son has opened a portal that has not closed behind him," Michael explained.
"And just what makes you believe this, Michael?" the commander inquired with just the slightest edge of authority in his voice.
Michael gingerly removed his circlet from his head and held it out to the Commander.
Adama just stared at the headdress as if it might bite him. "What are you doing?"
"Commander, I don't really have time to play games. I need you to hold the circlet. Please," the ensign requested.
He took the circlet and looked at it closely. There was nothing unusual about it.
"Now, sir. Please open a portal. It can be any portal to your past."
"I have not ..."
"It is not something you forget and we both know you can do it," he explained, watching the commander, as he still looked hesitant. "Please sir, you don't have to travel through, just open it."
Commander Adama sprang from his chair as if he had been bitten. "Michael, I am too busy to be playing games..."
"Sir, this is not a game. This is a matter of life and death," Michael growled in return. "Lee's life or death."
Adama sat down as if hit in the stomach, then placing his hands, still clutching the bauble, on his lap, he let his mind clear. It wasn't easy. His first experience with travel of this kind had nearly killed him and now he had just been told it might be killing his son. It was an unpleasant thought that kept slamming back into his mind. Finally, ignoring the sweat dripping from his brow, he passed the point of calm and easily opened a portal. A mist bloomed around him as the vision became stronger. A shadow stepped out of the mist near the portal. It was Michael.
"Commander, look at the circlet."
He looked down to the circlet that still sat in his hand. The jewel took on a glow, as if it was absorbing energy.
"Now, commander, please close the portal."
When the portal closed, the crystal returned to its normal luster.
"Again I ask, what does this have to do with my son's life?"
The commander handed the circlet back to Michael, who placed it back on his head. The boy looked a little paler than he did just moments before, if that was possible.
"I did not know the jewel held that power before yesterday, when Apollo asked me about my call sign and I handed him the circlet. The crystal began to shine, much like it did for you...before you closed the portal. I tested it to be sure I was not wrong in my assumption. He is drawn to that portal every time he closes his eyes."
"How can you know that?"
"Because we have shared a past life. In fact, it is the past life to the portal he has opened." Michael looked down at his feet and continued, "In that other life he was my best friend."
"So then teach him to close the portal."
"I cannot; there is not enough time."
"What do you mean?"
Michael looked up from the floor; a half-hearted smile passed his lips. "It will take too long, and neither Apollo nor I have that kind of time."
Adama felt as if someone snatched his stomach and ripped it from his gut.
"I am dying."
