"In case you were wondering, we're checking out this quadrant for a reason." Apollo's voice penetrated the solitude.
The silence had stretched for some time. At first Starbuck was still seething at Apollo, and had restricted any Viper communications to strictly necessary ones. Then, as time wore on and tempers ebbed, he had just settled into enjoying the only quiet he had experienced in the last couple days.
"Really?" Starbuck replied. That perked his attention. "Why?"
"The Galactica's scanners picked up some unusual energy wave readings." Apollo replied, glad to be getting back to business.
"Unusual how?"
"Unknown origin. Intermittent."
"Regular intermittency or irregular?" Starbuck asked.
"Irregular."
"Might be interesting."
"Might be." Apollo smiled at the lift in his friend's voice. Patrols of late had been quiet to say the least. "We should be in range in about a centar."
"Sounds good. I could do with a change in the pace."
"Yeah, I hear you." Apollo sighed. "And Starbuck . . . "
"Yo?"
"About what I said . . . "
"Forget it. I already have." Starbuck assured him.
"Hmm." Apollo chuckled. "Glad to know I make such an impact."
"Yeah, well . . . " The truth was he had a thick skin, and he also knew that Apollo was only saying it out of concern for Luana. If he truly felt anything for Lu, then he shouldn't be damning anyone for that. "Never mind that now, what do you think it might be?"
"Well, I have a couple ideas . . . "
----------
Luana stood in front of Oriana's quarters, back straight and prepared to bluff her way through another encounter. After all, she was proud of her last performance. Somehow there was a connection between Oriana, Ama and the whole triad betting scenario, Lu just didn't know what it was yet. But she had an idea of how she might find out.
The door slid open, and a bleary-eyed Oriana peered out, her eyes widening when she saw who her visitor was. She made as if to step back inside, but Lu's foot was firmly inserted in the door's path as she leaned towards the older woman.
"Oriana, Ama sent me to help get to the bottom of this thing. Can we talk here?" Luana suggested, while peering beyond to the darkened quarters.
Oriana paused, assessing the young woman as she pushed her long, dark hair from her eyes. "Ama sent you?"
Luana nodded. "Who else?" she grinned. "Of course, I'd like to help for obvious reasons. I feel a bit useless sitting around waiting for you to do all the work."
Oriana nodded slowly. "Actually, I could use some help. We're running out of time. Did you have to come at so ungodly a centar though?"
"Well, the early avian gets the grub." Luana replied with a smile. She pulled the cup of java from behind her back. "How do you like it?"
"Thank God, a conformist." Oriana grinned, taking the cup and standing aside. "I never understood how java didn't catch on in Empyrean Society."
"Easy, we didn't grow the beans." Luana shrugged. Empyreans consumed what Empyreans made, simply put. She stepped into the tiny quarters. Two vacated bunks were neatly made, the occupants having clearly departed to start their own duty shifts.
"Good point. So how much did Ama tell you?"
Oh, Luana tried to control her features . . . tried to stop the eyes widening in panic . . . tried, but clearly didn't succeed.
"She didn't tell you anything, did she?" Oriana asked, skepticism stamped on her pale features.
Luana flushed with embarrassment. Starbuck had told her that every decent strategy had a fall back position, especially if you were going to get out alive. "She . . . didn't want me to get too involved." It was a sudden inspiration. She decided to go with it.
"No, of course not. That's why she asked me to handle it. You lack the experience, Luana." Oriana sat on her bunk, motioning towards the chair stored against the wall.
"She didn't tell me exactly what your forte was though." Luana shrugged nonchalantly as she sat down.
"Investigative Journalism." Oriana replied, waiting for the usual reaction.
Luana smiled, "Seriously? How does an Empyrean woman working as a charwoman in the House of Regus specialize in journaling anything, other than how many rolls of turbo wipes his High and Mighty uses on a sectarly basis?"
Oriana threw back her head and laughed in return. "I love it. I see what people like so much about you." She took a deep drink from her java pondering her thoughts before resuming. "I left my home and my people, and attended the Sagittarian University, Communications Department. I was in my final yahren when the Cylons broke through our defense systems. Suffice it to say, I was one of the lucky ones who made it to a transport. As irony would have it, it was the Empyrean Freighter."
Luana gave her a moment to collect her thoughts. She had seen this scene play itself out many a time since joining the fleet. People seemed to come to a point where they felt compelled to tell you how they made it. They would sit there before her reliving the devastation and horror, before once again starting their tale with a haunted look in their eyes, as they thought about those that hadn't been so lucky.
"Well, oddly enough there wasn't many vacant positions for investigative journalists in training—of the female persuasion—on the Malocchio. You weren't with us then, so you don't know how lucky we were to be on a Freighter that was clean and somewhat maintained, where people took care of their own. Transferring to another ship wasn't really an option at first."
"Looking back, I know now I took the easy way out. I went back to working for Sire Regus and was happy to be alive for a while. A short while." She snorted self-derisively. "Then I knew the only way I was going to get a break into journalism was to find the next big story and report it myself. Well, there weren't a lot of big stories waiting to break on the Malocchio, if you know what I mean. I stayed put for a long time hoping for a transfer." She smiled ruefully and shook her head. "I managed, oddly enough with Sire Regus' personal recommendation and a strong word from Ama, to get a transfer to the Galactica."
"You knew Ama then?" Luana asked.
"Oh, yes. I've only been on the Galactica for a sectar. Ama had an idea then that Regus would try to discredit Starbuck. I don't know how . . . well, you know." She rubbed a spot on her chest, beneath her nightshirt.
Luana touched her own Empyrean Talisman, recognizing the familiar gesture. She nodded, recalling now that Starbuck had mentioned the sanitation worker hadn't been aboard long. "So Regus is behind all this?"
"Well, it came from him. It just went a lot farther."
"Dracus?" Luana asked, finding it even more distasteful that one of the Council of Twelve would be behind defaming Starbuck's character.
"No, he's simply a ready and willing pawn." Oriana replied. "It's bigger than that."
"Who?" Luana asked.
"Fausto." Oriana replied, awaiting the predictable response.
"Who the frack is Fausto?"