Part Eighty-Three
That slightly mystical place, that Holiest of Holies of feminine secrets, that housed every single, female warrior on the Galactica. It really didn't look much different than the men's billet—Starbuck knew that from previous personal experience, once boldly entering the inner sanctum post Destruction to find and speak with Athena—but the fact that the opposite sex lived there seemed to give it a special status, at least among the men. He stood outside, letting out a deep breath, and with it a bit of impatience, as he awaited Luana, inadvertently scratching at his hairline where the transceiver had been implanted late that morning.
"Is this where the desperate, single men congregate?" A voice asked.
The lieutenant turned to see Ryan approaching. The Earthman was dressed unusually, to say the least. His pants were black, and had a black stripe of a slightly shiny material running down the outside of the seam on both legs. His white shirt was a stark contrast to the black jacket and pants, and he had a strange little black decoration tied at his throat that looked like it should adorn a natal day gift, not a man. His black shoes were polished to a military sheen that would have Colonel Tigh nodding in approval. However, the long, grey hair tied back off his neck would have him stripped and moduled in a heartbeat.
"Best seat in the house, Ryan," Starbuck grinned, and waved a hand towards the man. "Nice duds."
"Dayton's idea." Ryan nodded, turning in a circle with arms held out. He undid a single fastener on the jacket and held it open to reveal a pleated, decorative black sash around his slim waist. "It's a damn good replica of an Earth 'tuxedo'. That's formal wear for men from where we come from. Usually for evenings out and such."
Starbuck nodded, walking around the Earthman. "Still looks like a Simian suit to me," he chuckled wryly. He folded his dress cape back over a shoulder.
"Your dress uniform?" Ryan asked, taking in the Colonial Warrior.
"Yep." Starbuck agreed, copying the other and turning around to show off his own formal attire, his cape billowing behind him. "Typical military. Un-tuck the tunic. Add a cape. Keeps the cost down." He added wryly.
"Not exactly the Red Serge." Ryan agreed, remembering the historical scarlet formal dress coat of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police in contrast to their bland, everyday beige dress shirts and black pants. "All the same, it's dashing in a superhero sort of way. I especially like the cape. And this is interesting." He fingered the intricate gold necklace on the lieutenant's chest. "You must have to be pretty damn secure in your own sexuality to go out in public wearing that." Ryan winked at him. "It looks Egyptian. Armani do this? Maybe a King Tut knock-off?"
"Get off," Starbuck muttered, pushing the intrusive hands away. Honestly, the dress medallion was his least favourite part of the dress uniform, often dangling awkwardly and simply getting in his way during the inevitable seduction scene that usually followed Starbuck wearing his dress uniform. But tradition was tradition. The original Lords of Kobol had worn similar, but much more substantial collars, often of worked auric and bedecked with jewels, both as symbols of wealth and power, as well as for the protective nature of the wide band covering the throat. Now it was a prestigious symbol that the Colonial Service had maintained for well over a millennia, decorating their officers and setting them apart from the rest of the non-commissioned warriors with that and the braided gold band on the edge of their dress capes. The combination was a magnet to the opposite sex, in his humble opinion He adjusted the dress medallion as he considered Ryan's last remark. "Egyptian? Aren't those the Ancients who built your pyramids?"
"Well, the ones that look like those on Kobol. There were other civilizations building pyramids on Earth, some close to Egypt, like the Sumerians, others thousands of miles, and in some cases thousands of years, away, like the Mayans or the Moche, but the Egyptians were probably the most famous for it. Hell, we even had a few modern day pyramids in our culture. One of the casinos in Las Vegas, the Luxor, was a pyramid. Now if you like gambling, Starbuck, you would love Vegas. Hell, you'd eat it alive . . ."
Starbuck watched Ryan's eyes grow wide with appreciation as the Earthman's gaze trained on the entrance to the billet and his tongue ceased wagging. The warrior turned to see Dietra decked out as he had never seen her before. Her golden dress fell off her shoulders, gathering at her slender waist and then softly caressed her curvaceous hips before flaring outwards into gentle folds of material. Her dark complexion seemed to glow as she nodded approvingly at the Earthman's tuxedo. Starbuck let out a low whistle between his teeth, grinning as she raised her eyebrows and turned a brief tolerant look at him before stopping before Ryan.
"Dietra . . ." Ryan cleared his throat. "I think I'm speechless . . . " He shook his head slightly as he beheld her.
She smiled, "That would be a first, Paddy." She tucked her hand into his proffered arm. "You look very handsome in your Earth uniform. Shall we?"
"Dee, give me some hope," Starbuck begged her, interrupting them. "Is Lu anywhere near approaching ready?"
"Why don't you ask her yourself?" Dee nodded her head towards the entrance with a light laugh.
He turned, opening his mouth to eat his words, but not a sound came out. Luana simply took his breath away.
Starbuck realized in an instant that he had never seen Luana before in anything other than pants, tunic and boots, whether on her native planet or while in the Fleet. Of course, he had seen her completely naked—as recently as the night before in the Celestial Dome, he reminded himself with a grin—but sometimes the subtle, sensuous way that a woman's dress clung to her curves, teasing and tantalizing his senses, was often even more alluring than the final unveiling . . . not that he would ever admit that aloud.
Lu's brown hair was swept up off her neck in an elegant knot, loose tendrils lightly caressing her face and neck. Her dark eyes seemed to sparkle, her fine features relaxing in a smile as his eyes devoured her. Her long gown was ivory coloured and unadorned, the gathered bodice clinging to her bust and waist, leaving her shoulders and arms bare, and the silky material clinging to her narrow hips and shapely legs with a slight flare below the knee. Dainty high-heeled shoes completed the outfit.
"You like?" Luana asked, circling him slowly and running a finger along his jaw line, barely noticing Ryan and Dietra departing for the launch bay.
Starbuck craned his neck to follow her progress before his brain kicked in and he realized he could actually just move his feet and turn his body to follow her . . . anywhere. "Sagan, Lu . . . you're . . . " he licked his lips, shaking his head at the transformation . . . and his apparent inability to think of anything even remotely charming to say as he ogled her like a naïve and stunned schoolboy about to score for the first time.
"Sweet talker . . ." she teased him, almost relieved that his reaction was from the heart, and not some line he had used with countless women before. She smiled as his arms enfolded her and he pulled her against him, looking searchingly in her eyes. "It's still me," she reassured him.
"You're so beautiful," he breathed, before kissing her lightly.
"I'm not sure I like the fact that you sound so surprised by that . . ." she returned with a smile.
"I . . . uh . . . didn't mean . . ." He looked uncertain. Almost worried.
"Starbuck?"
"Huh?"
"Stop drooling."
"Uh. . .I . . ."
She giggled in return. "I don't think I've ever seen you so . . . tongue-tied. Hmm, I wonder . . . " She leaned forward, nibbling on his lower lip before kissing him sensuously, tasting the lingering flavour of a recent fumarello and noticing the slightly smoky aroma that mixed with his cologne. Later, she knew, it would either be mixed with ambrosa or Empyrean Ale. A taste and scent that was distinctly Starbuck. She ran her fingers through his hair, loving the intimacy of the moment, knowing that only she had that right now.
"Get a room." An amused voice told them, passing by.
Starbuck sniffed, pulling back slightly, fingering a tendril of her hair. "I wish," he muttered. So far their 'bed chambers' had been less than elegant, and she deserved so much more.
"I guess it's equipment rooms and Celestial Domes for now," Luana smiled wryly, her arms around his neck. "I don't mind. As long as we can be together."
"Ironic, isn't it?" Starbuck shrugged. "Sanitation Techs are provided better quarters than Colonial Warriors. Or at least they have more privacy."
"I thought fraternization was dissuaded. Maybe that's why we're in billets." Luana mused aloud, recalling briefly reading that in her training. Oddly her flight instructor . . . Starbuck . . . hadn't dwelt on it.
"Yeah, well, my feelings for you are far from fraternal, so I guess we're all right." Starbuck replied with a grin. "Besides, if the Strike Captain can openly fraternize, there's not much he can say about the rest of us." Not that Apollo hadn't tried, Starbuck recalled their heated discussion in the launch bay just before they blasted off to the asteroid field. But that seemed to have more to do with Luana's age and naivety than her status as a Colonial Warrior.
"Was Apollo upset about us being together?" Luana asked, feeling a little hurt, despite the fact that she knew that Apollo considered Cassiopeia as being among his circle of friends.
Starbuck sighed, considering his reply. "I think he was just concerned about . . . my reputation. He didn't know how I felt about you." He shrugged. "I wasn't exactly forthcoming about it." Truthfully, Starbuck hadn't even admitted his depth of emotion for Luana to himself at that point. It had taken her near-death experience to make him realize just how much he cared for her.
"Remind me, just exactly how do you feel about me?" Lu teased him.
He grinned at her playfulness before replying, "I love you."
"Hmm." She nodded, again playing with his hair at the nape of his neck.
"Just 'hmm'. Is that all you have to say?" he asked her with a smirk. There was no doubt in his mind how this woman felt about him. Everyone else had known for sectars. Only he had been blind. But no longer.
"I think you're cute," she offered.
"Cute?" he asked in mock outrage, scratching again at the transceiver. "Baby daggits are cute."
"I think you're cuter than a baby daggit . . ." Luana nodded encouragingly.
"Lords, save me . . ." Starbuck muttered.
". . . marginally. . ." She added with a grin, laughing at his apparent dismay.
"Oh, get a room you two!" shouted someone from around the corner. "Please!"
"Let's get out of here." Starbuck took her hand. "My ego's had all it can take."
"Oh, I think there's still room for . . ."
He winced, pulling her behind him, knowing he had finally met his match. Still, he couldn't help but smile as her delightful laughter filled the air.
----------
Adama could see the glow of the engines from the two shuttles carrying the pirates and the refugees, as they finally departed for Axius. It had come as a bit of a surprise when Lieutenant Sheba had made contact with the bridge as she orbited Axius. She proceeded to inform them that the two ensigns, Drina and Varick, had been injured in an accident, and that Captain Bojay had remained with them, sending her back up into orbit to communicate with the Galactica.
Sheba had confirmed the commander's strong suspicion when she admitted that she felt the Axians would hold the three Colonial Warriors until their women, and likewise their erstwhile oppressors, were delivered to them. The town's people had already begun building the gallows for the pirates, so it was plain how they planned to deal with the men who had apprehended their young women. . . 'after a fair tribunal', their representative, Finn, had assured them.
It left him with a bad taste in his mouth, knowing he was sending those men to their death. Even Starbuck's report of his brutal treatment at the hand of the pirates couldn't completely erase the unease he was now experiencing, knowing full well that the tribunal's conclusion had already been decided by the families of the abducted and abused women.
And now the peace envoy he had sent were being held as hostages, ensuring the Commander went ahead with his plan to relinquish custody of the pirates. He forced himself to think of his own daughter, and wondered if he would do anything differently should he and Finn's roles be reversed.
It took him about a micron to realize he wouldn't.
----------
The Journey to Earth party was already in full swing when Starbuck and Luana arrived at the Rising Star's chancery. Already, he felt a hundred percent better than the day before. Something about the ambience of a gambling chancery always affected him like this. The sounds, the flashing lights, the clinking of cubits and glasses, the music: the kind of excitement you could almost reach out and grab . . . it never failed to arouse him.
Starbuck smiled as he noticed Commander Dayton in his tuxedo surrounded by a circle of guests, most of them dignitaries from a variety of ships in the Fleet. Hades, it looked a bit like the Earthman was engulfed in a Cylon Pinwheel attack. As he looked around he could see little in the way of 'the common folk', other than himself, Dietra and Chameleon, unless he counted the Earthmen who were far from 'common' by his standards. A party that had ended up being for the 'elite', attracting the kind of cubits that would pay for the House's investment well before the night was over. Sagan, even Apollo hadn't received an invitation! It was the kind of snob fest that would have at one time intimidated the lieutenant . . . not that he would have ever let on back then. Yahrens of military functions had conditioned him to mingle with them all. The upper crust to the gutter trash.
Not that the difference was always that great.
"Cassiopeia is here," Luana murmured, sounding surprised.
Starbuck looked back towards Dayton, seeing Cassie join him, tucking her arm into his. Dayton paused in conversation to smile down at her, his face lighting up at her return. Lords, he looked like he had it bad already. Seriously terminal! Then he noticed Sire Dracus across from the Earthman. Starbuck grinned mischievously, "Let's go say hello."
"Uh . . . is that a good idea?" Luana murmured, feeling him tug her along behind him.
Starbuck rubbed his neck as he crossed the room. The damn transceiver was making him itch. Just his luck that he'd turn out to be allergic to the fracking thing. "I only have good ideas," he replied lightly, hearing her disbelieving snort from beside him. "In fact, did I ever tell you about the time that I saved the entire Fleet, when I . . ."
"Many times," she grinned. "Alright, let's go."
"Commander Dayton," Starbuck greeted him as they entered the fray.
"Lieutenant Starbuck," Dayton nodded at him coolly, maintaining their facade. "I believe you know Miss Cassiopeia."
It was on the tip of his tongue to say he didn't 'miss' her much, but Cassie's obvious nervousness about what the unpredictable former lover would do at that moment reined in his natural tendency. If it wasn't for the fact that she was already staring at Dayton with that tender look in her eyes that he had thought was exclusively for him . . . well, he might have felt sorry for her. "Of course," Starbuck replied, feeling Dracus' eyes on him. "You look beautiful tonight, Cass," he nodded politely. Stiffly polite. Cassiopeia smiled tentatively in return, still looking awkward and a little uncertain. As if she couldn't quite believe he was being civil.
"I wasn't sure you'd make it . . . Lieutenant." The formal greeting was more for the frown that had crossed Dayton's face at the unexpected compliment.
"Yes, I heard you had some troubles in the Life Station, Lieutenant Starbuck. Unexpected complications, was it?" Sire Dracus added in concern.
"Incidental, Sire Dracus. I'm fine." Starbuck returned, pulling Luana further into the circle she had been hovering just outside of. "Commander Dayton, this is Luana. My betrothed."
"My pleasure," Dayton smiled sincerely at the young woman who had been through so much, and yet had recovered so quickly. He squeezed Cassiopeia's hand, feeling her stiffen at his side. "I understand that you're a princess. Royalty."
"Reformed princess, Commander Dayton," Luana replied with a grin. "Now I'm just a Colonial Warrior, which is a kind of royalty all its own, actually." She looked at Starbuck, and smiled playfully. "At least that's what Emperor Starbuck keeps telling me."
Starbuck held her gaze for a moment, seeing the devilry in her eyes, before the excited chattering of a Siress in Luana's ear distracted her. The word 'princess' was all it took for every female present—excluding Cassiopeia, oddly enough—to pull the former princess aside and begin bombarding her with questions about the upcoming 'Imperial Wedding'. Starbuck chuckled as she sent him a pained look before returning her attention to the society slaves.
"Where's your Strike Captain, Lieutenant?" Sire Dracus inquired. "I don't see him here this evening."
"On duty, I'd expect," Starbuck replied, knowing that Apollo was in the Rising Star's Security Office monitoring the conversation. "He didn't get an invitation, so I'm told. If I was back on the flight roster, I'd probably be with him."
"Then you're not cleared for duty quite yet?" Dracus raised an eyebrow.
"Light duty." Starbuck smiled meaningfully at him. So far their professional association hadn't exactly been smooth. "Doctor Salik insists I give my insides another few days to finish healing. I'm back to being the 'Official Liaison Officer' for now."
"Oh, then I expect that you've replied to my messages by now. They were marked 'urgent'. I was just telling Commander Dayton of my plan to arrange some appearances by the Earthmen for our children during their instructional periods."
Starbuck merely nodded, having not had the opportunity or the will to even open all of Sire Dracus' messages the last couple days. He must have waded through at least a hundred messages from various interested parties, calling on the Earthmen to do everything from speak at private functions to allow action figures to be made in their likeness.
"Well, I did read a number of them, Sire. Unfortunately, more often than not I was shot up with a variety of drugs, and after the catheter was yanked out, every time I read the word 'urgent' I felt an incredible impulse to race to the turbo flush." He almost laughed aloud at the incredulity and subsequent repugnance on the bureautician's face. "Still, I think having them talk to the kids is a winner." Actually, he had read that one. Most of the others he had forwarded on to Chameleon.
"Sounds like a good idea," Dayton nodded. "Been a long time since I was in a classroom. Of any sort."
"Were you a teacher?" asked Sire Dracus.
"Oh no, not really, although my father was a University Professor. Uh . . . what I think you call an 'Academician'. As an astronaut, I did lecture in a few public schools, and taught aerospace engineering for a year . . . er, yahren . . . at the Air Force Academy."
"Sounds most interesting, Commander," replied the Sire. "How does Earth science compare with our own?"
"Well, we don't have ships anywhere near as fast as yours, although a number of nations were engaged in advanced research in a variety of new technologies. A new system for generating artificial gravity was slated to be tested aboard the Space Station a few months after our . . . our incident. I'm anxious to learn more about your level of technology, especially in astrophysics. That's one of my specialties."
"Well, we need all the scientists we can get in the Fleet," said Dracus.
"We certainly do," agreed Cassie. "We managed to rescue so few when the Colonies were destroyed. Having Commander Dayton lecture the students would be wonderful."
"Sounds like I've been elected," said Dayton. "How about it, Creamice?" he grinned at Starbuck. "Think Commander Adama will go for it?"
"I doubt the Service would mind, but I guess we'll find out," Starbuck shrugged, massaging his neck with one hand, as the itch intensified.
"Creamice?" Sire Dracus asked with brows furrowed, looking between the commander and lieutenant.
"One of my many aliases," Starbuck shrugged good-naturedly. "Apparently my name is considered quite amusing on Earth."
"Aliases? That sounds . . . nefarious," Dracus returned perplexed, his eyes narrowing slightly. "A bit too nefarious for a man who's Liaison Officer for the military. It makes me think you have something else on your personal agenda, but I'm not certain what that would be." Dracus paused for a moment, looking pointedly at Luana, and then in Fausto's direction, before slowly returning his attention to the Colonial Warrior. "However, I am sure that I'm not altogether comfortable with it, so I do hope you're joking, Lieutenant. I would hate to think your loyalties are divided between duty and personal revenge." He raised an eyebrow in question.
"Don't concern yourself, Dracus," Starbuck replied vaguely and a little abruptly, wondering how the Hades Hole Dracus had figured out that Fausto was responsible for the attack on Luana. Then again, the bureautician was well connected with everyone who was anyone in the Fleet, and had probably collected his own information on Fausto and realized how far his syndicate spread. As he followed the Councilman's line of sight, Starbuck noticed that Chameleon was now speaking with Fausto and Aquila. Not much longer . . . "Somehow I don't see our relationship continuing for that much longer."
"Really?" Dracus drawled, studying the other closely.
Starbuck nodded, alarm bells going off at the back of his mind at the other's tone. Of course, they weren't the advanced kind of early warning system that explained why his instinct was telling him to be alert. "As soon as I'm fit enough to be back in a Viper . . ."
A horrific yell, somewhat akin to an ancient battle cry, muffled his words and everyone in the room swung their attention to the poker tables. There Dickins was standing erect, fists clenched and arms thrust into the air, as he yowled at the top of his lungs.
"What the frack . . ." Starbuck murmured, but his eyes followed Chameleon as he brushed past Fausto making his way to the Earthman, his 'charge'.
"I think he won," Dayton surmised, smiling at Dickins' distraction. "He certainly seems pleased with himself." The rest of the room stood mutely awaiting the outcome, eyes glued to the Earthman.
"Do you think he could endeavour to win a little more quietly next time?" Starbuck asked sarcastically while he moved to join Chameleon as the official Liaison Officer.
"I doubt it," Dayton grinned, watching the lieutenant stride towards his friend.
----------
"This could be it." Apollo told Willem as he listened to Starbuck's transmission from the Rising Star's Security Office. "Code word, 'endeavour'. We're going in." He nodded at Boomer who was already half way to the door.
"How's your reception, Captain?" Willem, the Security Officer, asked the warrior while tapping his ear. He had an identical receiver to Apollo's in his own ear canal. Lia looked on, curious as to the response.
"There's some fading. I've lost the signal a couple times," Apollo replied in concern as he turned towards the chancery offices. "It sounds like interference of some kind."
"Yeah, same here." Will nodded.
"I wonder what's interfering with the signal."
"Well Boomer, there are a lot of cable trunks running through the spaces behind Fausto's rooms." Willem replied. "Transformers and such. That's bound to interfere, especially with all the power they're sucking for the Earth party."
"Yeah. Too bad we didn't have the chance to test it out overnight to work out any problems." Boomer added, adjusting the volume in his receiver. "It is new technology."
Apollo nodded his agreement, shaking his head that Starbuck had put his love life ahead of his potential safety. Then again, why was he surprised by that? "Hindsight," he muttered.
----------
"Chameleon, what in Hades Hole is going on?" Starbuck grabbed the old man's arm as he joined him at the poker tables. Dickins was raking in a huge pile of cubits with an enormous grin on his face. He was jabbering away in Earth talk to Porter, and the languatron couldn't begin to keep up with him, although the word Vegas was repeated often.
"Don't fret, Lieutenant. Captain Dickins just became a little excited when he won." Chameleon reassured the Liaison Officer as he patted his arm in consolation. He leaned conspiratorially close to the other. "A Royal Flush. I understand a hand like that is extremely rare. The odds are about 1 in 2000."
"Really?" Starbuck asked, his interest piqued, as he felt Chameleon slip Fuasto's ID card into his fingers. He surreptitiously pocketed it, as he looked over the table seeing the unusual cards that he had wanted to learn about but simply hadn't had the time. The rest of the people at the table were practically vibrating, infused with excitement from Dickins' win. It was contagious. Later, Bucko. A tentative hand touched his arm. He turned.
"Starbuck . . ." Luana murmured, brushing tendrils of hair back from her face with a shaky hand. She winced slightly, rubbing her temple. "I'm not feeling so well all of a sudden. Could you take me back to the docking lounge?"
"What is it? What's wrong?" he demanded , his hand resting lightly on her arm as he studied her in concern.
"I just suddenly have this headache . . ." She shook her head, closing her eyes, feeling his arm come around her in support. She leaned against him, smiling regrettably, "And I can't even blame the ambrosa."
"Headache, huh?" he half-smiled. "Does this mean no . . ."
"Starbuck! Please," she tried not to laugh, in spite of herself, then winced as another jab of pain lanced through her skull.
"I'm taking her back to the Galactica's Life Station, Chameleon." Starbuck told his father. The conman's eyes widened in surprise and he shook his head mutely.
"Really, Starbuck. I'll be fine. It's your responsibility to be here with Commander Dayton and his crew. Just get me to the docking lounge." Luana suggested, looking between father and son.
Starbuck shook his head stubbornly. "Lu . . ."
"It would be quicker to take her to the Life Station here." Chameleon interjected. This wasn't part of the plan.
"I don't need the frackin' Life Station," Luana snapped, drawing a few glances of disapproval. Thankfully, there weren't any Empyreans about who were inclined to swoon at the first hint of profanity.
"Easy, Lu . . ." Starbuck murmured, beginning to gently guide her through the chancery, feeling Chameleon's eyes on them the entire way. "C'mon, I'm getting you out of here."
"That's what I asked you to do, if you recall," she murmured irritably, clinging to him as images flashed through her mind every time she closed her eyes. Images she didn't want to see. Or remember. Borka. Kaden. Oriana. . . She stumbled against him. "Damn shoes . . ."
"I've got you," he murmured, lifting her easily into his arms, cradling her against his chest, ignoring the curious looks around them. He could feel his heart pounding as his concern grew with each passing micron. "What's going on, Lu?"
"It's . . . coming back." She gasped, shaking her head as memories seemed to surge forth from the confines of deep within her mind. "Starbuck . . ."
"What's coming back?" His voice panicked. His pace quickening. His fear for her growing.
"My . . . memory." She replied, clinging to him. Everything that Oriana had told her about Fausto and Myrddin. Their subsequent trip to the Malocchio. Being discovered in Myrddin's quarters by Borka and Kaden. Oriana slumping lifelessly to the floor after being shot. The burning pain that Borka's blade caused as he slit Lu's throat. Each and every memory pummeled her as though she was caught in a rip tide. Wave after wave bombarded her. She couldn't catch her breath.
"Lu! Look at me!"
Her eyes snapped open to stare into Starbuck's determined features. Somehow they had ended up on the deck in a deserted corridor. He held her gently against him as he kneeled, tenderly brushing aside her hair and then trailing his fingers down her cheek. There was something so . . . comforting about his touch. It grounded her in a way she couldn't understand, as she focused solely on her man.
"You're all right now. No matter what happened then, you're all right now." He pulled her closer, intent on helping her through the traumatic recollection of the events. Dr. Salik had warned him this might happen. "You'll get through it. I'm going to help you. Every step of the way. I promise."
"I know . . ." she replied quietly, looking at him in wonder. How could she have ever thought that Starbuck would turn tale and run if things ever became too serious between them? Something that Athena and Cassiopeia had once said in a shuttle from Alrin perhaps, Lu? Lords, she had underestimated him. She had never even considered he could feel the same intensity of emotion for her that she did for him. "But not now, Starbuck. Help me to get to the Life Station or the docking lounge, but you have somewhere to be right now." She reminded him. "So much depends on it."
Starbuck looked at her in disbelief. Her memories had come flooding back, hitting her hard like a breaching dam, but she was already prepared to put aside her own concerns so he could finish his mission. The clap of Colonial boots coming down the corridor signaled the arrival of his backup . . . though this wasn't exactly going to plan.
Apollo, Boomer and Lia rounded the corner at a run. Lia immediately dropped to her knees beside her sister. Apollo and Boomer hovered above the other three.
"Are you okay?" Lia asked Luana, looking her over critically.
Lu nodded drawing a deep, if ragged breath. "I am now," she murmured, nodding at Starbuck. She had felt as though the very demons of Hades Hole had been residing in her skull, and had risen up collectively, bursting forth and wildly riding neural pathways as they attempted to destroy her psyche . . . not to mention rupture her skull. Stop dramatizing, Lu, you have a headache. She smiled at them reassuringly, but couldn't shake the niggling thought at the back of her mind that there was something she should be telling them.
"I'll take her to the Life Station to get checked over." Lia told the men.
Apollo and Boomer leaned down, pulling the young ensign to her feet. Apollo then gave Starbuck an arm up, not missing the slight wince from his friend when tender stomach muscles protested the movement.
"You okay?" Apollo asked.
"Fine," Starbuck nodded, his eyes on Luana. "You're sure you'll be alright?"
"Yes." Luana squeezed his hand gently. "Besides, now you have an excuse to have left the party."
"You're very pragmatic, Luana." Boomer chuckled.
Starbuck rubbed his neck as he smiled at her. "Lu, did I ever . . ."
"What did you just do?" Apollo demanded, interrupting him as the captain touched his ear with his index finger, noting the transmission had once again cleared.
"What?" Starbuck asked in confusion.
"Did you rub it?" Apollo asked. "We keep getting interference on the line."
"I . . . uh . . ." Starbuck shrugged, again touching the spot on his neck where the transceiver was implanted.
"That's it!" Boomer agreed, hearing the same distortion he had picked up a few times now. "What are you doing? You're not supposed to rub it. Lords, Starbuck!"
"Just for the record, they're talking about my neck." Starbuck murmured for the benefit of Hummer and any Security Officers listening in. "It's . . . itchy."
"Let's see!" Apollo said, advancing on him.
Starbuck raked his fingers through his hair, then grudgingly pushed it back and out of the captain's way as Apollo examined the insertion site. "Well?" he murmured.
"It's red and a little bit swollen." Apollo palpated it gently. "Are you allergic to tylinium?"
"How should I know? I've never actually had it implanted in my body before." Starbuck replied ruefully, rubbing his neck once again as Apollo let go. What he really wanted to do was to scratch the Hades out of it. "At least not that I know of." Personally, he had his own suspicions about those early days of basic training at the Academy. One day you're your own man, and before you know it you're falling into line, responding mindlessly to orders as the drill sergeant bellowed at the top of his lungs. The transformation was kind of scary, especially for a guy who had always had a small problem with following specific directions. Maybe not so much a problem, as a mental block. There had to be some room for incorporating one's personal interpretation, after all.
"Well maybe we should have checked it out beforehand," remarked Boomer.
"The more you rub it, the itchier it will get." Apollo warned Starbuck. "It only exacerbates the condition."
"You're talking about my neck. Right?" Starbuck asked with a grin.
Boomer chuckled. Apollo looked at them tolerantly, half an eye on the very young female ensigns. Luana was grinning too.
"Well, I can see this conversation is deteriorating to a level where all respectable individuals should be leaving." Lia muttered, a slight flush on her cheeks. "Good luck and be careful. Let's go, Lu." She took her sister's arm.
"I thought just the respectable individuals were leaving," Luana returned lightly. Then suddenly it hit her. Like a bolt of lightening. The words that Borka had spoken to her while she was his prisoner, relaying his suspicions about Starbuck. Lords, it seemed like ages ago now. "Oh . . . my . . . God . . ."
"Lu?" Starbuck asked, immediately at her side as she went inexplicably pale. "What is it?" He held her lightly by the arms.
"Borka thought you knew . . ." Luana replied, shaking her head as the scene replayed in her mind. "He thought you put me up to it."
"Put you up to what?" Starbuck asked, his brow furrowing, all thoughts of tylinium, irritation, and respectability momentarily gone.
"Going after Fausto for the triad scandal. He thought you had already figured it out, Starbuck." She told him.
Starbuck looked between his lover and his friends.
"Is that why he tried to kill you?" Boomer asked. It hadn't really made much sense at the time. Lords, dead bodies piling up like dirty laundry, and then two attempts on Starbuck. The whole fracking universe had gone crazy! And Fausto seemed to be behind it all . . . possibly.
"Well, I was hoping it wasn't personal." Starbuck muttered ironically.
Apollo looked at him seriously. "Maybe we should abort. If he suspected you all along, then . . ."
"Forget that!" Starbuck returned. "I've put . . . " he paused, blowing out an angry breath between clenched teeth. "We've put too much frackin' work into this to give up before we even begin!"
"I don't like it." Apollo reiterated.
"I have Fausto's personal access card. I have his computer password. I have Hummer's itchy transceiver on me, as well as another in Fausto's office. And I have you and Boomer backing me up." Starbuck reminded the captain. "To be any better protected you'd have to stuff me in Cylon armour and weld it shut."
Apollo hesitated, appearing to consider it. "Might not be a bad idea. Boomer?"
"Hey, the way the 'Starbuck Luck' has gone lately, I'm also willing to wrap him in bubble wrap and take out insurance." Boomer shrugged.
"You're my insurance." Starbuck repeated stubbornly, looking between them. "Even if Fausto suspects that we're on to him, there's no fracking way in Hades Hole that he can know about the PAP program. A few centons is all I'll need." He let out another frustrated breath as they considered him indulgently. "Help me out here."
Within a milli-centon Starbuck was already altering his plan, deciding how to proceed without them. Come Hades or high water . . . he was going to get his man. Fausto would regret the day he gave an order to kill Luana. He steeled himself for the captain's decision as Apollo let out a long sigh and prepared to respond.
One way or the other . . .