"That man is arrogant with a capital 'A'," Dayton growled, Starbuck and Apollo flanking him as they headed apace back to the launch bay.

"He's the Juggernaut," Apollo returned, even his voice sounding like a shrug. "I don't think he ever imagined another capital ship being the one to take on missions like this when he decided to rejoin the Fleet. He probably saw the Pegasus in that role."

"Decided to rejoin the Fleet?" Starbuck returned, pulling a fumarello out of his flight jacket. A moment later, fumarello met ignitor, and another beautiful but short-lived relationship began, as the strike captain puffed lovingly on his smoke. "Are you implying that Cain wouldn't have come back if the Pegasus hadn't been so battle damaged?"

"Good point," added Dayton. "I saw the ship. She looked like she'd been used for a gunnery target."

"By Cain's account, after Gamoray they were out there shadowing the Fleet, basically running interference for us. Admittedly, I'm not sure how much of that to believe. However, what I do know is that after setting out from Molecay, and not answering to any commanding officer, I don't think Cain particularly enjoyed being subordinate to my father at Gamoray," Apollo informed them, having had a few opportunities to spend some time in the Juggernaut's formidable presence. While his first impression had been that Cain didn't think any man was worthy of his daughter, gradually that had changed, and now the living legend seemed to be making a bit more of an effort to informally welcome Apollo into the family . . . while making sure he imparted countless words of wisdom and shared anecdotes that generally featured his own courageous and often unconventional exploits. Not only was the man a legend in his own time, but he was obviously a legend in his own mind, however deserved.

"You think?" Starbuck quipped, rolling his eyes.

"By the way, what was grinding your beans in there, Espresso Truffle? You were like a dog defending his bone," Dayton posed.

Starbuck shook his head, waving a dismissive hand at the commander, sending smoke wafting about. "Just a little uptight about the mission, I guess. Especially the Clavis part of it," he muttered with a sidelong look at Dayton.

"Did you talk to Chameleon?" Apollo asked his friend.

Starbuck glanced at him briefly, grimacing slightly. As usual, Apollo could see right through his insouciance.

"Starbuck, you might never see him again," Apollo reminded him.

"And that's different from every other mission I go on, how?" Starbuck retorted fervently. He clamped the fumarello between his teeth.

"Kid, he's your father," Dayton shrugged. "Take fifteen minutes to say goodbye before we go."

"Look," Starbuck replied in exasperation around his smoke. "My spending another fifteen centons with my father, isn't going to make that time any more meaningful or worthwhile than what we've spent together in the last sectars. I . . . I just don't see the point."

"Look, French Vanilla. Before we launched on our mission from Earth that put us in your neck of the woods, I passed up a chance to see my old man. After all, what's a couple of days, huh? I'll be back, and he and Mom and me . . . we'll have all the time in the world. Then . . ." He moved closer. "Right now, I'd give a hell of a lot to be able to see my father, one more time. Something I can never do! But you can!"

"Well, it's . . ."

"It's called a re-la-tion-ship," Dayton said it slowly and purposely. "They take work."

"Yeah, well some take more work than others," Starbuck snapped back. "And you still get stabbed in the back . . .I don't believe . . ." He huffed in aggravation, raking his hand through his hair before, stopping mid-stride and turning around. "Frackin' Hades hole . . . I . . . I'll see you back on the Endeavour, Dayton," he muttered, as he began to stride away back the way they'd come.

"Hey! Starbuck!" Apollo called after him, hesitating when his friend refused to look back, merely raising his hands in the air as if he could symbolically ward off any more questions he didn't want to deal with. It was an ingrained coping mechanism for the warrior.

Dayton sighed, watching him walk away. "What the hell was that all about?"

"I'm not sure," Apollo shook his head, glancing at his chrono. He needed to see Boxey before they shipped out. "And I don't have time to find out either."

"Me neither. I'm supposed to be meeting with Ryan, Baker and Porter in thirty centons . . . and I'm suddenly down a pilot to get me back to the Endeavour," Dayton realized. "Starbuck," he growled under his breath, tempted to have his strike captain commed overhead, and ordered to the launch bay, but also knowing innately that he'd only live to regret it one way or the other. "Damn!"