Epilogue

Starbuck entered his command code, and the hatch to the Endeavour's Brig unlocked. Pushing the dense tylinium door aside, he nodded at Baltar to enter. The Betrayer of the Twelve Worlds of Mankind nodded cordially, and then proceeded down the lonely corridor without a word. He came to a stop within, turning in a circle as he looked around at the empty cells.

"I believe I preferred the accommodation on my former Base Star," Baltar frowned, referring to the time he had spent as a Cylon prisoner when Lucifer had picked him up from the planet that Adama had marooned him on. "The Hades-class ships were a little less . . . primitive."

"We didn't invest a lot of time or resources upgrading the Brig," Starbuck shrugged. His sidearm was still holstered on his hip, and there was no guard. It hadn't been necessary. Good to his word, Baltar had offered no resistance.

"I imagine not," Baltar replied.

"The decorators were busy on the Rising Star."

"No doubt, but I was thinking more in terms of the plumbing. Or lack thereof. Can I choose the cell of my liking?"

"As long as it has a lock."

Baltar turned and smiled. "Picky."

"I'm funny that way."

Baltar walked around the cells, as though he was simply a man apartment hunting, or out enjoying a stroll. Then again, he wouldn't be doing a lot of strolling until he was delivered back to the Prison Barge.

"When do we . . . travel back to our own dimension."

Starbuck glanced at his chrono. "About five centons. That should give you a chance to get settled in."

Baltar smiled sardonically, hoisting his small bag of toiletries. "And to redecorate." He looked around a final time before nodding. "This one," he pointed at the cell in the middle.

Starbuck nodded, keying the entry. He stood aside as the condensed tylinium door slid open. "Any particular reason?"

"Why, I'll be the centre of attention, of course," Baltar returned, with a low chuckle.

Starbuck dropped his head as a fleeting smile lit his features, while Baltar stepped inside. In a matter of microns, he'd coded the door shut, and Baltar was sealed within.

"Do come and visit, won't you?" Baltar smiled, raising his eyebrows as a trace of his old superciliousness rose to the occasion. "I should have the drapes hung, by then."

"Right." It was all he could manage. As much as Starbuck, along with every other Colonial citizen, had every reason to hate this man, after all they had been through on Morlais, something about this just felt wrong. Still, duty was duty. He needed to retreat to his office. Maybe pour himself a stiff drink of Ryan's Asteroid Whiskey, and lose himself in the mounds of work piled around his desk. With a curt nod, he turned around heading down the corridor, and pausing at the hatch. He looked back one last time, startling as a bright light burst from Baltar's cell. It was without warning, and momentarily blinded him.

Frack!

He raced back down the corridor, blinking at the spots before his eyes, somehow not surprised to see Eirys standing in the cell holding the Oculus.

"Eirys! No!" he yelled, and she looked at him anxiously, putting her free arm around Baltar, even as Starbuck frantically began to key the door open. A frenzied incantation left her lips.

"Wait!" Baltar begged the sorceress, as a sparkling haze surrounded them. "No! No! Not like this!"

She paused, lips separated as she drew in a steadying breath. The shimmering field dissipated.

The cell door slid open, and Starbuck drew his weapon, stepping over the threshold. He hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest, as they looked at him expectantly.

"I can't let you do this, Baltar . . ." His finger lightly caressed the trigger.

"Honestly, Starbuck," began Baltar, "I have not . . ."

"This wasn't Baltar's doing, Starbuck. It was mine, alone," the Angylion sorceress proclaimed.

"Brig! This is the Bridge! We picked up an energy surge traceable to you. What's happening down there, Starbuck? Report!" It was Dayton's voice on the comm. The comm metrons down the corridor.

"I gave them my word, my bond." Baltar took her hand, raising it to his lips and gently kissing it. "I can't go with you, Eirys." With a shake of his head, he reinforced his words.

"There is nothing for you in your own world, Baltar," she pleaded with him. "There is no redemption, only unforgiving shame and incarceration. I cannot bear to think of you so . . ." She glanced at Starbuck. "Please, Starbuck."

The strike captain drew in a deep breath, blowing another out at the unbelievable situation. Only a centar ago, they had all been celebrating victory! Now they were adversaries. What was he supposed to do? Shoot them? Idly, he switched his laser to stun, his mouth dry.

"The White Witch would never condone this!" Eirys averred. "Surely you know this!"

Hadn't Ama talked about Baltar's redemption? It had seemed to be a personal mission of hers, however unlikely. Was it really possible, or had Baltar merely managed to manoeuvre his way out of a lifetime sentence?

Baltar held up a hand, stepping in front of Eirys and shielding her slender form, his eyes blazing. "Don't you dare, Starbuck!" he hissed. "If you hurt a hair on her head, with my last dying breath, I'll personally tear you limb from limb!" He turned his back on Starbuck, cradling Eirys' head, his lips only millimetrons from her own as he tried to persuade her. "Go, my beloved. Return to Morlais. Forget me. I am not worth your concern."

"I cannot," she replied brokenly, a single tear trickling down her cheek. "I cannot!"

"Starbuck! Report! We're about to energize, Captain! What the hell is going on?"

Swallowing down the bitter taste of indecision, Starbuck glanced back at the comm. He lowered his laser, as he looked back at the would-be lovers, willing to risk anything for one another. You just couldn't fake that kind of desperation, and he knew it. "Go," he whispered hoarsely.

"I will not leave him!" Eirys returned adamantly.

"Then take him with you," Starbuck replied, dropping his right arm innocuously at his side as he glanced at his chrono. "But go!"

They turned in surprise, still embracing.

"I don't . . . I don't know what to say . . ." Baltar faltered, regarding Starbuck in wide-eyed wonder.

"Goodbye?" Starbuck suggested, turning as he heard the Brig's main hatch begin to open. "Now!"

Eirys raised the Oculus once again as a string of Angylion incantations poured from her lips. The soft, shimmering light that surrounded them exploded, the force knocking Starbuck off his feet. He hit the deck hard, his weapon skittering across the surface as he smacked the back of his head against the wall. A blinding light seemed to suffuse him, and he covered his eyes under its assault.

Then the softest of touches stroked his face, as sparkling lights danced in front of his eyes. He blinked, trying to clear his vision without success. The familiar sounds of the Endeavour's engines were conspicuously absent, but a strange sense of lightness permeated his very existence.

"Ah, you make an old woman proud, Starbuck. You did the right thing. If Baltar had stayed, he would have grown bitter and resentful, but in Morlais, he will truly become the man that Eirys believes him to be."

"Ama?" he rasped, his chest hitching painfully with the sudden overwhelming relief and onslaught of associated feelings that her voice brought forth.

"I have you, son," she murmured.

Then he was in her embrace, his forehead resting against hers, and her very presence seemed to calm the tumultuous emotions that had been hanging over him like a harbinger of doom. A purification of the spirit, he could feel the horror and grief that he had intentionally stifled begin to lift. Finally, with a rasping breath, he raised his face to look in those familiar grey eyes. "We thought you were dead."

"Once or twice, I wished I was," she replied through her gap-toothed grin. She glanced upward, into an eternal brightness. "Yes, yes. I know. I told you I wouldn't be any good at your silly rules." Then she smiled at Starbuck. "Seems I need a little guidance from above for a little while. They actually called me an unrestrained spirit. Can you imagine? Me?"

"Lu and Lia . . . my father . . . "

"Don't worry. I've already visited them, son of my heart. They know I'm alright."

"But . . ."

"Don't fash yourself, Dear Heart. There are difficult times ahead, but we will prevail." She kissed him chastely, and then touched her forehead to his. "Tell Chameleon about your mother and the Thorn Forest. He needs to hear it, as much as you need to tell it. Promise?"

"How did you know . . .?" Then he nodded at her knowing smile. "Ah."

"You'll tell him?"

He nodded, albeit reluctantly.

"I must go," she told him, smoothing the hair from his brow. "Take care of my girls."

"Always."

A golden aura of light surrounded her, shining more and more intensely until he had to shut his eyes and shield them from the blinding brilliance. Abruptly, the burning brightness abated.

"Starbuck?"

The voice seemed to come from kilometrons away, calling him back. Gradually, he became aware of the familiar hum of the Endeavour's engines, the touch of hands upon him, and the murmur of voices.

"Starbuck?"

He opened his eyes, looking into the distressed face of his beautiful wife. Smiling, he raised a hand as she captured it in her own. Relief lit her features.

"What happened?"

Looking around, he could see Apollo was in the cell that had held Baltar for mere centons. It had to be a new record. Incarcerated for all of two centons before successfully escaping. Malus was standing behind Lu, looking down at him.

"Are you alright, Starbuck?" Malus asked. Naturally, the IL appeared to be sweeping the human with his sensors.

Starbuck started to nod, wincing as the back of his head began to throb. He ran a hand over the lump forming there. "Yeah, I . . . I think so."

"Oh, that cannot be good!" Malus exclaimed.

Apollo kneeled down beside him, his hands pushing aside Starbuck's, checking him for injuries. "Was it Eirys?"

"Yes," Starbuck nodded, adjusting his position as Apollo helped prop him up against the bulkhead.

"I knew he'd try something like this . . ." Apollo growled. "His word is about as good as Iblis'. Frack!"

Starbuck opened his mouth, about to explain that it wasn't Baltar that had planned this escape, but Eirys. Then it suddenly occurred to him . . .

"Wait a centon, did we already . . . what did you call it? Energize? Are we back?"

Apollo nodded curtly. "The Clavis was already partway through the process when we picked up the energy surge. It was too late to stop it."

"Then Baltar's gone."

"Yeah," frowned Apollo. He stepped forward, moving down the corridor to the comm unit. "Commander, Apollo here. Baltar made good his escape. What are your orders?"

"Is Starbuck okay?" Dayton asked.

Apollo glanced at him, expectantly. Starbuck nodded. "He was unconscious when we found him, Commander. But he's okay now."

"I'd go back for Baltar, Apollo, but Coxcoxtli is having some trouble with the Clavis. We'll get Malus to take a look and see if he can figure it out. For now, we'll rendezvous with the Pegasus, and then proceed back to the Fleet. You and Starbuck report to the War Room for a debriefing. I want to know how an unarmed sedentary bureautician got the drop on my strike captain!"

Apollo winced, looking at Starbuck sympathetically, yet curiously. "Yes, sir. Apollo out."

Starbuck sighed, slowly climbing to his feet, using the wall to support him, as a wave of dizziness swept over him. Malus was there in an instant, taking his arm. "I'm alright, Mal." He took several deep breaths, as it passed.

"Of course you are, Starbuck." He kept a hand just above the warrior's elbow. "And I'm Miss Caprica of 7334."

"She looked better naked than you do," replied Starbuck, feeling another sharp blow to the back of his head. From his wife. He put a hand to his skull, wincing. "Not a lot better, mind you . . ."

"Save it," Luana drawled, slipping an arm around him on the other side. "You know, with all those mines and caverns, Baltar could easily disappear in Morlais. We'd probably never find him, even if we did go back."

"Especially with a sorceress hiding him," Starbuck agreed, a faint smile lingering on his lips. Eirys had planned it just perfectly, as though she knew that they had been about to leave. But that was impossible. Wasn't it?

He glanced upward, almost expecting to see a golden aura of light hanging over him, smiling a gap-toothed grin. Or a crystalline ball, with a tiny image of Baltar and Eirys embracing inside. Or . . . maybe twelve dancing fumarellos, a padded room, and a straight jacket with his name on it. He let out a breath, raking a hand through his hair, wondering how long it would take to fall out . . .

"C'mon, buddy," Apollo said. "Let's get this over with."

"Can't wait." All that was left to decide was whether to level with Apollo and Dayton about Baltar today . . . or tomorrow.

And the way he was feeling right now, tomorrow was looking good.

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Fleeing from the Cylon tyranny, the Battlestars Galactica and Pegasus, along with a salvaged and modified Cylon Base Ship, renamed Endeavour, lead a ragtag fugitive fleet on a lonely quest . . . a shining planet known as Earth.

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With thanks to Senmut, beta reader extraordinaire. Wouldn't have been half as much fun without you along for the ride, Sen. Thanks also to all the readers who have followed along, offering critiques and support alike.

Lisa Zaza