"What in the name of Hades was that?"

Colonel Sharm's voice blasted out of the comm and stopped Omega in his tracks. He turned to face the vidscreen, tension settling around his shoulders like a vise.

"That was a pilot, sir." Omega fidgeted in front of the comm.

"I know that, Captain," the colonel said icily. "Which pilot? That Lieutenant Starbuck again?"

"Yes, sir."

"That irresponsible snitrat! You get that Lieutenant back here on the double. He should be reporting for honor guard duty, not taking off for Lords-know-where."

"I'm on it, sir," Omega said, hoping his concern didn't show through the—hopefully—professional manner. "I'll get him back. Clear me for flight?"

"This can't go on," Colonel Sharm grumped. "Pilots can't be allowed to run off whenever they choose."

"I said I'm on it, sir," Omega repeated impatiently. "Clear me and I'll get him back."

"Right, right. Just make it quick. I want both of you in position promptly at eighteen hundred centares. Got that? Now go."

Omega didn't bother to reply, just made a run for his Viper. Starbuck was really in trouble this time. Not just for essentially stealing a Viper, but some other, more personal trouble, whatever had caused him to blast off the battle platform without any kind of clearance on an unknown heading.

The launch tube streamed past, then the Viper lurched with the familiar sensation of leaving platform gravity. Omega flipped on his scanner.

There he was, a steady Colonial Viper signal, heading towards Serenity, the next platform on the perimeter. Omega hit the turbo button and headed towards the signal. He flicked on the comm.

"Starbuck," Omega said, wondering if he would respond.

"Go away, Captain," Starbuck replied. "I'm leaving, and you can't stop me."

"Lords, Starbuck," Omega said, exasperated already. "You're not leaving. You're going to turn that Viper around and go right back to Fairhaven, and then you're going to tell me what's wrong."

"From the brig, I suppose. No thanks, Captain."

"Not from the brig. You've got a problem there, buddy, and I want to help. Stealing Vipers is not like you."

"And what do you know about me, anyway, Omega? Nothing. Just like everyone else. Absolutely nothing."

"Not for lack of trying, kid," Omega muttered. Then, louder, "That's not true, and you know it. I know you're too smart to throw away a career that's been your whole life so far. And I know there's something you've been keeping from me since you got to the platform. And I also know that you're going to turn that Viper around and we're going to work out this problem of yours, find a solution that doesn't involve getting yourself into trouble. Got that?"

Starbuck's Viper was slowing. Omega caught up to him, fell in on his wing. He found Starbuck's silence encouraging; if he was quiet, he wasn't saying anything in that bitterly sarcastic, un-Starbuckian tone. Omega found that deeply disturbing, coming from someone who'd already earned the reputation for a sunny personallty and a ready smile.

"Maybe you're right," Starbuck said eventually. "Maybe..."

He trailed off into silence, still flying away from Fairhaven. Omega waited. He wished they weren't in space. Starbuck was hard enough to read even when clearly visible, with that eternally cheerful mask always in place. When it was just his voice it was much harder. But the kid was worth the effort. "Maybe?" he prompted eventually.

"Maybe you're right." Starbuck sighed. "Maybe I should go back with you. But I'm not going to that damn party."

"It's not a party, it's a reception," Omega corrected automatically. "And refusal is not an option. We've got—" he checked the chrono "—roughly five centons to get back, change into dress uniforms, and get to the reception hall. Think we'll make it?"

"Not bloody likely," Starbuck started, then broke off when his scanner bleeped. "What's that?"

Omega's scanner bleeped also and he checked it. Then he frowned, tapped it, and checked it again. Surely that wasn't right! But there was no change. "Starbuck, are you reading what I'm reading?"

"If you're reading a flight of incoming Cylons, then yeah," Starbuck replied, tension replacing sarcasm in his voice. "Better get on the horn, report this—holy frack! There's too many!"

"I hear that, Bucko."

The Cylon fighters, arrayed in precise formation, streamed towards Fairhaven at full speed. Omega tried to raise the communications center of the platform, but there was no response. The Cylons must have already taken out the satellite relay, which probably meant the early warning system was out as well. The entire complement of Warriors would be completely unaware, caught up in the reception of visiting dignitaries, people from a world under Cylon control. They'd wanted to form an alliance.

"So what do we do now, Captain?"

"Only one thing we can possibly do, Lieutenant. We need to haul jets back to the platform and hope we get there first."

Saying the words was rather unnecessary, since both men had already turned their Vipers back towards Fairhaven and kicked in the turbos. Their screens continued to show more and more Cylons approaching, at least four full squadrons, each comprised of ten trios. They advanced in a steady wave, slightly slower than the top speed of a Viper.

"Think we'll make it in time?" Starbuck asked, worried. "I mean, we're faster with the turbos, but the propulsion system can't sustain that kind of intense speed for very long."

"I think I know that, Lieutenant," Omega replied dryly. "We'd be there already if you hadn't gone so far out. But I think we'll make it. The real question is, did they leave anyone manning the comms?"

"They'd better have. Otherwise, they'll be taken completely unaware."

"And blown right out of the sky," Omega agreed grimly. "If it happens that way—you ready to go out fighting?"

"You know it, my friend," Starbuck said lightly. "Nothing like a little dance with danger to get the blood going."

"Right. Here goes nothing." Omega fiddled with his communicator. "Fairhaven Base, do you read me? Come in, Fairhaven. Large Cylon force approaching. I repeat, large Cylon force approaching. Fairhaven, do you copy?"

"What in the worlds are you talking about?" Fairhaven responded.

Starbuck cheered.

"This is Captain Omega reporting," Omega tried again. "There is a large Cylon force of at least four squadrons approaching Fairhaven. Sound the alert and get the Warriors in the air."

"I repeat, what are you talking about? The long range scanners don't show anything. And who are you, anyway? All the Warriors are at the reception."

"Who is this?" Omega demanded in return. The platform was within visual range now, and the Cylons were almost on them. "Starbuck, stay on my wing. Fairhaven, identify yourself right now."

"This is Corporal Creel," the voice replied. Omega sent his Viper in a wide turn, Starbuck beside and a hair behind him. They flew over the platform and turned about to face the oncoming Cylons. "And who did you say you were?"

"Corporal Creel, you've probably just ended your military career," Omega replied acidly. The Cylon Raiders were visible now. Omega and Starbuck fired off a few shots, but the front rank of Cylons didn't even hesitate, just kept coming. "Cylons within firing range. Scramble all available pilots now."

The first rank was on them. The two Vipers opened fire in earnest, despite the impossible odds.

"I'm sorry, my scanner still doesn't show—" Corporal Creel's voice broke off. The Cylons opened fire on the station. "What was that?"

"That," Starbuck replied, sending his Viper on a twisting evasive/attack pattern, "was a twenty megon Cylon bomb. Now will you sound the fracking alert before the whole station goes up?"

Evidently either the corporal finally hit the alert siren or the seasoned Warriors on the station didn't wait for official confirmation that the platform was under attack. Vipers shot out of launch tubes within centons. A few centons after Vipers entered the fight, two of the platform's Tigers were abruptly on the scene, heavy weapons blazing.

Omega was on the comm, issuing orders and creating a coordinated attack out of the chaotic mess launching from the platform. Cylons were everywhere, flying their predictable pattern in an attack on the platform itself. It didn't take long for Omega to realize they were concentrating on the docking arms.

And then they weren't. The Calennari cruiser broke away from the station and made a run for open space, followed by waves of Cylons. The Vipers responded instantly, but not in enough time to save the cruiser. There were just too many Cylons, all firing on the cruiser, and it didn't stand a chance. It exploded and the Cylons disengaged.

"What the—Vipers, follow until we reach the perimeter, just to make sure they're really leaving. And Tigers, you've got cleanup duty. Make sure there's no sleepers back there."

"Hey Captain," Starbuck called, "do you get the feeling they don't think we're very important?"

"They'll think we're important enough when they get back and count their losses."

The Cylons reached the perimeter and continued on. The Vipers slowed and held position. The remains of the satellite warning system showed on the scanners as little fragmented blips.

"Looks like that's it, everyone," Omega said, watching the last of the Raiders disappear from scanning range. "Time to head back home and figure out how we're going to report this one."

That report came sooner than he'd anticipated. Colonel was in the landing bay the micron atmosphere was restored.

"And what exactly was that, Captain?" the colonel demanded, advancing on Omega. "How do you explain this travesty?"

"I suggest you ask Corporal Creel to explain, sir," Omega replied, pulling his helmet off. "Starbuck and I sounded the alert. Corporal Creel disregarded the report and refused to believe I was who I claimed to be. The Warriors could have been launched in plenty of time to avert most of the damage, if not all."

"What's this?" Sharm pulled up short, deflected from his plan of attack. "Disregarded an emergency? You mean, if you hadn't been out trying to retrieve that flighty lieutenant of yours there would have been absolutely no warning whatsoever, because some kid didn't know what he was doing?"

Omega tried to follow the logic of that statement briefly, then gave it up as hopeless. "I believe you're correct, sir. Once in range of Fairhaven, I attempted to report the attacking force, but was unable to convince the corporal that I was serious until the first bombs hit. The early warning systems and relays were all disabled, none of the scanners showed the attacking force, and the corporal assumed this meant there was no attacking force."

"Ridiculous." Sharm scowled. "All right, Captain, best take yourself off and put this all down in an official report. And go easy on your man, because it looks like his idiocy served a purpose. I'll take care of this Creel myself."

"Yes, sir." Omega saluted and left the landing bay, conscious of a distinct feeling of relief. He'd been afraid the colonel was going to come down on Starbuck like one of those Cylon bombs, but evidently Creel's incompetence was of higher priority. He strode through the hallway to his office rapidly, well aware that if he slowed down even for a micron the stresses of the day would catch up to him and he'd probably fall down. No, better to keep moving, get the report taken care of quickly, then track down Starbuck. Which meant he'd better stop somewhere along the line and pick up some caff, because something told him Starbuck wouldn't be easy to deal with. He'd need to be alert, have all his wits about him.

Omega got his reports taken care of quickly and efficiently. He paused for a moment after saving the last form and leaned away from the computer, eyes closed. Time for Starbuck. He rubbed the back of his neck, then rose and left his office. Where would the kid be, anyway?

Omega checked the mess hall first. Not that he thought Starbuck was likely to be there, but it was worthwhile to check, and gave him the chance to pick up some fresh, hot caff, like he'd promised himself some time ago. The adrenallin rush of battle had worn off, leaving him ready to just sit somewhere quiet for a while, preferably with a good book. But that wasn't an option while the kid was still messed up.

Omega checked all four of the station's common rooms, with no luck. Nobody had seen Starbuck since the landing bay. So he stopped in the corridor outside the last common room and figured out where Starbuck was least likely to be, since he wasn't in his favorite haunts.

"The barracks," Omega said positively, and stepped onto a waiting transport. The personnel carrier zipped through the corridors, carrying him to the barracks in a fraction of the time it would have taken to walk.

Starbuck was there. He lay on his side on his bunk, a top one third from the end of the room. Omega made his way down the long row of bunks and stopped beside his friend.

"Starbuck?"

His back tensed slightly, so Omega knew he was awake, but he made no reply.

"It's no good pretending to sleep, Starbuck, I know you're awake."

"No you don't," Starbuck said. "You only think I'm awake."

"It's not going to work, buddy," Omega said, reaching up to rest a hand on Starbuck's shoulder. "You need to come back to my quarters and tell me what your problem is, remember?"

"Maybe I don't want to."

"Maybe we already went through this, and don't need to do it again."

Starbuck sat up abruptly and jumped off the other side of the bunk. He put something in his pocket and shot a dirty look across the rumpled bedding. "If you weren't my Captain, I'd tell you where to stuff it."

Omega smiled, knowing he'd won. "If I weren't your Captain, I'd probably let you. Come on."

He set off without looking back. Starbuck would follow.

And he did, all the way out of the barracks and across the hall. Omega's private quarters were small, just two rooms and a sanitary unit, but a definite improvement over the barracks. Omega opened the door and Starbuck made a beeline for the bottle of brandy, a nearly permanent fixture of the sitting room. Omega blinked, mildly surprised.

"Yes, come right in, make yourself at home," he said, locking the door behind them. "Oh, and do try some of the brandy. I just got in a new bottle from Sverna last secton."

Starbuck had already poured himself a rather large glass and taken a drink. He coughed.

"Easy, there," Omega cautioned, holding out a hand. "That stuff's strong. It's made to be savored slowly, not guzzled like a common ale."

"You and your fancy-schmancy stuff," Starbuck said, a little hoarse. "Surprised you don't have hundred-fifty yahren ambrosa instead of brandy."

"Maybe I like something different now and then." Omega poured himself a more modest glass of brandy and steered Starbuck towards the seating unit. "Now sit, and tell me what's bothering you."

"You sure? You probably won't like it." Starbuck sat, sipping cautiously at the brandy.

"I already don't like it." Omega settled on the other side of the unit. "I never like it when one of my friends has such a big problem that running away seems like a good answer."

"One of your friends," Starbuck said abruptly. "Friends, plural. You don't know how lucky you are to have so many friends."

"What?" Omega blinked. "Not all that many, really, but what do you mean? You have plenty of friends."

"Not really." Starbuck turned his glass slowly, watching the light catch on facets cut into crystal. His hand was so steady the brandy inside hardly moved. "Oh, sure, there's lots of people who I get along with, and who can pass as friends in a pinch. But there's really only two that matter."

He fell silent. The glass turned round and round.

"Am I lucky enough to count as one of those two?" Omega asked eventually.

Starbuck looked up, eyes wide. "Of course! Otherwise I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't even be trying to tell you what's bothering me, I'd just blow you off with something meaningless and keep everything to myself, as usual."

"Thank you," Omega said. He watched Starbuck's face as the young man struggled to find the right words.

"I met a guy before I came here," Starbuck managed eventually. "At the advanced piloting course they sent me to right out of the Academy. And we got along even better than you and me do."

"So what's wrong with that?" Omega could tell this was hard for Starbuck, but he really wanted to know. All along, ever since the kid had arrived on Fairhaven, all shiny-new and fresh from the Academy, he'd sensed that there was some deep conflict inside him. Maybe now he'd finally let it out in the open.

Starbuck had another drink. "You going to be all shocked and disgusted if I say I wanted a lot more than friendship from the guy?"

"Come on, Starbuck, surely you know me better than that," Omega chided gently. "So was he?"

"I don't know. I never asked. Apollo was very obviously not interested. He was chasing after some girl, a cute little redheaded thing, and I figured being his friend was better than nothing. But it's not."

Starbuck's eyes were sad, focused off in the distance. "There's more to it than that, isn't there," Omega prompted gently.

"Little bit, yeah." Starbuck finished off his drink and set the empty glass aside. "We've been keeping in touch. I never told him about you, because I... never mind. He tells me things, though, and I got a letter today." Starbuck paused, fiddled with his pocket. "He told me all about how wonderful this new girl his father introduced him to. And he told me he'd be putting in at Serenity for a few days. And then he said that he's been assigned to a strike wing in the Fourth Fleet, based on the battlestar Chimera."

"Oh, Lords." Suddenly Omega understood why Starbuck had run. The Chimera had been assigned on a long-term recon mission deep within Cylon space. Fleet High Command had finally realized that the last twenty yahrens of Cylon attacks had seen drastic changes from the previous nine hundred fifty or so yahrens and decided to find out why. "And you were going to Serenity."

"To see him," Starbuck agreed, nodding. "And maybe to tell him that I'm pretty sure I love him, even though he doesn't love me back, so at least he knows someone will miss him."

"Here, now," Omega protested sharply, "you don't know it's a one-way mission."

"And you don't know that it's not," Starbuck pointed out. He sighed. "And now you know. Still think I'm worthy of your time?"

"Oh, bright stars." Omega said, in that exasperated tone which always appeared when conversing with Starbuck for any length of time. "Starbuck, if you weren't such a good friend, I'd have to hit you for saying something so stupid."

"And if you weren't such a good friend, I'd have to hit you for calling me stupid." Starbuck smiled a little. "So it doesn't bother you? That I like guys, I mean."

"Should it?" Omega shrugged. "Not like you're causing problems, other than occasionally pulling idiotic stunts like today, and that wasn't directly caused by your sexuality."

"Thanks, man," Starbuck said. "That means a lot."

"And honestly, while I've never been in the habit of looking at men as potential partners, I can't say I'd be opposed to the idea if I met a man who interested me that way." Omega was a little surprised that he'd just said that, but it was true all the same. "I think the person inside is more attractive than the body, anyway."

"I should have known you'd understand. I guess I've just spent too long around stuffy, repressed Capricans. Keep thinking everyone will react like that, you know?"

Omega cocked his head to the side, a crinkle forming between his eyes. "But aren't you Caprican?"

"In a way," Starbuck nodded. "Umbran, actually."

"Wasn't that—"

"Destroyed, yep," Starbuck finished for him. "And I've even heard Capricans expressing the opinion that it was a good thing for Caprica that Umbra was wiped out. 'The place was nothing but a hotbed of immoral fools and dreamers,'" he quoted, in a bitter imitation of someone Omega was glad he'd never met.

"Immoral, my astrum," Omega said. "So many Capricans are moral to the point of ridiculousness. They need more places like Umbra to balance them out."

"Where are you from, anyway? Don't think I ever asked."

"Me? I'm Aquarian. We're not so uptight there."

"Never been there," Starbuck said around a yawn.

"I'll take you for a visit some time," Omega promised. "Were you planning on falling asleep right there, or are you going to make it back to the barracks?"

Starbuck had slumped down lower and lower since he'd finally let his problem out in the open. Now he could hardly keep his eyes open. "I'll make it. Can't go ruining your reputation, after all."

Omega chuckled. "Might actually help it, if people thought I'd been the one to catch the elusive Starbuck."

Starbuck pried an eye open and focused on Omega. "I should have trusted you in the first place. Thanks. I feel a lot better now. Not because my problem's solved, because it isn't, but because I could talk to someone about it."

"That's what friends are for," Omega said. "Just remember that, okay? Any problem you have, it's okay to tell me."

"You might regret that offer," Starbuck said, struggling upright. "I'll remember that." He stood. "And now, I'm off to bed. See you next shift."

"See you," Omega said, rising to let Starbuck out.

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