"You've got to be joking!" Starbuck raved, rising angrily from the seat that faced Apollo across the desk of the duty office.
"Afraid not." Apollo returned quietly as he shifted in his seat.
Starbuck pounded a fist on the desk, looming towards his captain. "He can't order me to . . . " He threw up his hands helplessly and turned abruptly, pacing across the room. He eyed the filing cabinet, viciously slamming the open drawer shut, before again turning sharply to see the amused glance of his friend upon him.
"Are you finished? Or should I bring in some more furniture for you to abuse?" the captain asked, putting his feet on his desk in a deliberate display of calmness.
Starbuck's eyes narrowed. "I'm glad you find it so amusing. It's always good to know I can still manage to spread a little sunshine, while you personally enjoy my misery and suffering."
"Some guys would like just a tenth of your kind of misery and suffering." Apollo ribbed him, as he watched his friend run his fingers back through his hair in the familiar gesture of anxiety that was his alone. "Sit down, Bucko."
"Look, I don't pretend to know the regulation manual from back to front . . . " He pointed a finger at Apollo, whose smirk had at that moment turned into a full blown smile with a probable propensity towards a chuckle. "Don't say a thing, I'm not finished."
Apollo help up his hands defensively.
"The Commander can't order me to get married!" Starbuck blustered.
"You took an oath, Starbuck. We all did. Sometimes we need to make . . . sacrifices." Apollo told him with a shrug, not quite ready to put him out of his misery. "You know that."
"Sacrifices? Frack, if I'd known they were talking about my matrimonial status instead of just my life, I wouldn't have signed up." Starbuck muttered in disgust. "Ama wasn't there, was she?" he asked suddenly and suspiciously.
"No, I already told you, she was on the Rising Star. We're going to pick them up on the way to the Malocchio."
"She's behind this somehow." Starbuck muttered. All the forces of the universe were again conspiring against him. It was painfully similar to the period during which he had been the victim of an Empyrean curse . . . Ama had to be in on it.
"You think Ama caused her own people to riot so she could force you to marry her goddaughter?" Apollo asked skeptically.
"Well, when you put it like that . . ." Starbuck trailed off. He returned to the chair, dropping down into it wearily and cradling his head in his hands. He rubbed his eyes morosely.
Apollo dropped his feet back to the ground and sat facing his friend. "Look, Starbuck, it's just a facade. The Commander doesn't really expect you to marry Luana. He just wants you to present a . . . united front." He saw the lieutenant's blue eyes peek out reluctantly from behind his fingers. "Make the Empyreans think that their . . . savior and princess are really engaged."
"And just what is that supposed to accomplish?" Starbuck asked, shaking his head dumbfounded as he dragged his fingers down his face. Lords, he still hadn't had a chance to talk to Cassiopeia. Or Luana.
"According to Siress Tinia, they feel torn between Regus' desire to set them more clearly apart with his demand for a 'distinct society', versus the vision of moving forward and amalgamating more wholly with the people of the fleet. If the engagement is . . . authenticated, joining their princess with a Caprican, then they might actually believe that their future is less uncertain."
"By the virtue of the Goddess Triquetra . . . " Starbuck muttered disdainfully, mimicking Ama. The Empyreans were accustomed to being led. Whether by an Imperial Family, or the Sires of the Great Houses, they had followed blindly like ovines for generations. A rift between the two political forces and their vision for their flock was a dilemma and crisis that the Empyreans were not prepared for. He knew enough about their people to realize this. That was the real joke of the situation. He—among all the Colonials—understood the Empyreans probably the best because of his close affiliation with Luana, Lia and Ama. Yeah, the guy who was the most adversely affected by the dilemma, also had the closest understanding of why he had to follow Adama's orders. Frack!
"The younger generation is excited at leaving some of their 'old-fashioned' standards and ideals behind, while others aren't quite ready to give up age-old traditions which they've cherished for generations. It's not exactly mind-blowing stuff, but it's monumental for them." Starbuck summarized. He rubbed the back of his neck as he thought about it. "The prophesy is Ama's capstone. It sucks them all in, young and old."
"Sucks them all in." Apollo quoted him with a wry grin. "You have a way with words. How do you mean?"
"I'm supposed to unite the Empyreans and make them strong. Remember? Now, when they're experiencing a real political rift of this magnitude . . . " He abandoned his train of thought as his own words sunk in. "That convoluted prophesy that just about every one of them has read, they all believe in it fervently . . . especially when it suits their purpose. Oh Lords, I'm so fracked."
Apollo snorted. "I thought that part of the prophecy was supposed to relate to when you helped bring them into the fleet from the planet Empyrean?" Apollo asked, climbing to his feet as he checked his chronometer. Admittedly, his recollection of the sacred Empyrean prediction was a bit shaky.
"It's a prophesy, Apollo. The Great Kaula didn't place any limitations on how many times I would fulfill it." Starbuck smiled self-deprecatingly, his own disbelief in the prophecy evident with his words.
"Hmm. If that's true, I could see why they'd want you hanging around." Apollo smiled. "So . . . are you okay with all this?" The fact of the matter was he needed Starbuck to be in top form if they were going into a crisis management situation. A distracted, angry lieutenant was not going to be helpful.
"Hades, no." Starbuck snapped before taking a deep breath and blowing it out noisily between pursed lips as he climbed to his feet. "But I'll get it together . . . just like I always do."
Apollo nodded soberly. Despite his friend's flare for the dramatic, Starbuck was a professional. He would get control of his emotions and carry out his assignment. "That's what I needed to hear. Let's go."