Starbuck settled into a dimly lit corner of the Officer's Club, drink in hand. This hiding out in corners was something new for him, and he wasn't entirely comfortable with doing it, but the quiet corner offered the best possible spot for another new pastime: Apollo-watching. He snorted with a feeling that was far from mirth. Apollo-watching. Oh yes, here he was in the OC, hiding in a corner so he could watch his best friend, when by rights he could just walk up and sit next to the man and no one would question his right to do so. But no, he had to lurk here in the shadows, and deny himself the company of the one man he wanted to be with, while his conscience attempted to deal with the startling new development of a few days ago. How could he possibly go over there and act as if everything was normal, as though it had never happened? How could he possibly act as if his traitorous subconscious mind hadn't been tormenting him nightly for nearly a secton?

Oh frack, there he was now. Starbuck shrank back further into the shadows as Apollo's eyes searched the crowd. A frown appeared on those familiar features, and Starbuck felt his heart twist. He's looking for me. Apollo shook his head, then proceeded to his usual table, to join the crowd of their mutual friends. Starbuck sighed with relief at having escaped detection.

Frack. What the hell was he going to do? How could things ever return to normal between them? Apollo was worried. He could tell something was wrong, kept asking about it while they flew their patrols together. And Starbuck had begged off their last Triad match, an unheard of occurance that had brought questions and comments from everyone he knew. But the thought of himself and Apollo in those microscopic Triad uniforms... oh, Lords. It was happening again. His body was betraying him yet again... he shifted and willed the pleasant tingling heat in his groin to go away. It didn't.

It had started with a dream. A simple dream, that was the cause of so much upset. He'd dreamed that he was out dancing with Cassie—nothing new there, he did that fairly frequently. They may have broken it off a yahren and more ago, but she was still a good friend and they still went out. But then the dream changed, got weirder. Cassie had vanished, to be replaced by Apollo. Then the rest of the world had vanished, and there was only Apollo. Starbuck could see it now, the way his dream had been: the blackness of space, a few pinpricks of stars, and Apollo, lit up as though some celestial spotlight had singled him out for special attention. Then Apollo had smiled, had leaned forward and... kissed him.

Starbuck squirmed with discomfort. His heart fluttered in his chest like he was a silly schoolboy with his first crush. He couldn't tear his eyes off Apollo, though, out there with their friends, talking but evidently not having much of a good time. His gaze frequently returned to the door, with an expression of hope, quickly replaced by regret. He's looking for me. But how can I go be with him, when all I want is... more of what I... dreamed?

Another uncomfortable thought. He wasn't really ready to deal with that yet. Good Lords, he was barely even able to think of the dreams in the daytime without blushing! What was wrong with him? He sipped absently at his drink, watching Apollo. The light in the OC centered on him, picking him out of the crowd the way that starlight had. He was... beautiful. Starbuck gulped. There he went again. Stupid dreams—and yet, he longed for another one every night. They may have started out innocent, but they were progressing nicely into the realms of downright dirty. He wondered if Apollo would really be willing to—no, don't go there. He didn't really want to know if Apollo would be willing to do that. What he wanted to know was how could he get rid of these feelings. Apollo wasn't interested in him as a lover, he'd known that for yahrens. They'd actually been faced with that assumption before, from other people who thought surely they must be lovers since they were so close. Poor Apollo and his Kobolian prejudices had been shocked nearly speechless the first time the issue had come up, and couldn't deny the accusation fast enough. It just wasn't possible.

So here Starbuck was, dealing with the unpleasant reality that he wanted it to be possible. He wanted it very badly, in fact, with a desire that bordered on obsession. How had he been so blind for all these yahrens? But...

He took another drink, a much deeper one this time. The ambrosa slid smoothly down his throat, providing a momentary distraction from that thought. But it wouldn't go away, bloody uncomfortable and awkward thing that it was. He couldn't distract himself from the fact that he'd been interested in Apollo for yahrens. He'd admitted on occasion that Apollo was quite attractive, but he thought he'd better control of himself than to go off the deep end with wanting of the man. So, he hadn't been blind for yahrens, just delusional. For what other word could describe someone who had convinced himself that he wasn't interested in the man who was the center of his universe? Bloody hell. And who was unrelentingly straight, who would undoubtedly be horrified if Starbuck was just to walk over there and kiss him...

What was that? There was a new arrival at the table, sliding into Starbuck's vacant seat. His eyes narrowed. Sheba. Making a move on his Apollo.

She leaned in close beside Apollo, whispering in his ear. Apollo smiled, just a brief upward quirk of one side of his mouth. Burning jealousy consumed Starbuck and he clenched his fist around his mug. How dare she... She was doing it again, whispering in his ear. This time she slipped a hand up around his neck and pulled him closer... dear Lords, she wasn't going to...? But no, Apollo listened to what she had to say, then shook his head and pulled away. Sheba frowned.

"What's wrong, Apollo?" she said, loud enough that Starbuck could hear her.

"Nothing, Sheba," he replied, with another searching glance at the doorway. When he didn't see the person he was looking for, he sighed.

"Felgercarb," Sheba replied, tossing her hair. "Tell me what's been bothering you."

"I said, nothing, Sheba. Now would you leave me alone?"

"Bet I know what it is—you're pissed 'cause Starbuck isn't here. What's the matter, have a lover's quarrel and now you can't find him to kiss and make up?"

Apollo sighed heavily yet again. "None of your business what goes on between me and Starbuck. And I'd far rather go to bed with him than you. If you're that horny, why don't you go jump in the sack with Bojay? He wants you. I don't. So go away and leave me alone."

The bottom fell out of Starbuck's universe and he fell through a spinning maelstrom of confusion, joy, and disbelief. He didn't just say that—he did say that—he can't have possibly just said that... did he mean it...? His breath caught painfully in his chest, and he had to force his lungs to work properly again.

He jerked his attention back to Apollo. He'd stood up, was leaving the room... and an angry Sheba glared at his back from the table. Good. An angry Sheba was a Sheba that wasn't putting her grubby paws all over his man.

Starbuck gulped. Uh-oh... when had he decided to accept the fact that he wanted Apollo more than he'd ever wanted anyone before, man or woman? Scratch that. Make that any woman, because Apollo was really the only man who'd ever interested him. Must have been when he'd heard those words... I'd far rather go to bed with him than you...

Morning found Starbuck in his Viper, business as usual. Apollo looked searchingly at him but didn't say a word as they went through the preflight routine. But then, when they were safely launched and out of comms range of the Galactica, he spoke up at last.

"Starbuck, why have you been avoiding me?"

Starbuck twitched and smiled a guilty little smile. He'd been caught, fair and square. Now how to get out of this one without making a complete mess...

"Um... I haven't been avoiding you?" It sounded lame and plaintive, even to his own ears. He swallowed, trying to ease the constriction in his throat.

"Try again, Bucko; it isn't going to work unless you can convince yourself."

Frack.

"Um... thought you might like a little privacy, you know, some time to yourself for once." That came out a little better.

A heavy sigh came over the comm. "And what gave you that idea? Lords, Bucko, I've never had a problem with your company before. What would make you think I'd want to be alone now?"

Frack.

"Frack what?"

Oops, must have said that aloud. Starbuck took a deep breath, scanned his instruments, made an automatic correction in his flight angle. He had to know. He just had to know. But could he say it?

"Starbuck? Hello, anyone in there?" The sarcasm barely managed to mask worry. Apollo was really getting worked up over this.

"Did you mean what you said last night?" he said, all in a rush.

"What was that?" Startlement, pure and simple.

"To Sheba. What you said." Starbuck's face was flaming, his breath coming quick and shallow. He couldn't believe he'd said that. "In the OC," he prompted, before his throat closed off and refused to allow even a tiny sound to escape.

Dead silence. Then, just when he couldn't stand it anymore and was about to do something, anything, to break that awful tense silence... "Last night? You were there?"

"Yes. Did you?"

Another long silent moment passed, while Starbuck writhed in absolute agony. Then, barely audible over the sound of the engines, "Maybe I did."

"Maybe? Just maybe?" A different agony seized Starbuck now, that of an almost fulfilled longing, hope burning within him so brightly that surely he was lighting up the entire quadrant of the sky.

"You haven't answered my question yet," Apollo said briskly, avoiding the issue.

"Dreams," Starbuck said.

"What?"

"I said, dreams. They were very vivid, very disturbing, and made me think it would be better if I stayed far away from you until they went away and I could control myself again." Oops—he hadn't meant to say that last bit. "Now you answer me. Just maybe?"

"Er... better than even odds, okay?" An embarassed pause, while Starbuck's heart capered and sang in exquisite joy. "What kind of dreams would convince you to stay away from me?"

Just then, a sensor bleeped insistently. "I'm reading incoming ships on my scanner, Captain," Starbuck said, a wide grin etched indelibly on his features. Better than even odds was good enough for him!

"Frack—it's a bloody Cylon patrol."

No sooner had Apollo identified the incoming craft than the Raiders opened fire. The two Colonial Warriors sprang into action, their longstanding partnership making teamwork second nature. With a minimum of fuss and effort, they destroyed the six Raiders.

As the last enemy vessel vanished in a ball of flaming gasses, Starbuck engaged his long range scanner. "What the frack were these guys doing out here?"

"Beats me, Starbuck. We'd better check it out."

"Scanning now. There's nothing showing, except..."

"Except what?"

"There's an anomaly in quadrant beta six," Starbuck said thoughtfully. It wasn't like anything he'd encountered before—obviously, or it wouldn't be anomalous. He stared at his instrument panel.

"I'm picking up a large heat signature, and elevated levels of industrial gasses, consistent with a settlement of some kind." Apollo muttered a curse. "Let's swing in for a closer look. If we've stumbled on another Cylon homeworld, we have to warn the Galactica immediately. She's heading right for it."

"After you, Captain," Starbuck grinned. He punched his turbo button and followed right on Apollo's tail.

There was a system ahead, of one primary and six planets. The anomalous readings were emanating from the fourth planet, along with the readings consistent with habitation. The two Vipers went in for a high-level approach. They skimmed through the upper atmosphere, scanning the empty red surface below.

"What the frack...?" Apollo's voice sounded over the comm. "There's no sign of any setlement, beyond these persistent industrial gas readings. I don't—"

A blip on his scanner distracted Starbuck from what his friend was saying. "Apollo, I'm picking up a distress beacon. The signature is very old, but I'd almost swear it was Colonial."

"I'm reading it now, Bucko. Let's get on it. Doubtful anyone's still there, with a signal that old and degraded, but we have to check it out."

The signal was coming from a wreck, smeared into the surface of the barren planet. Bits of the ship were scattered far and wide. Identification of the type of craft was impossible.

"How can this be...?" Starbuck said, tapping his scanner. "Captain, I'm picking up life signs, along with the source of the anomaly. It appears to be some sort of distortion field."

"Atmospheric readings indicate it's acceptable for us. Let's set down and check this out—I've got a weird feeling about this wreck, like it isn't all it seems to be."

"Agreed." They landed their Vipers beside the main body of the wreckage, where it had met up with a cliff wall. Starbuck had barely set foot to ground when a figure came racing up to them out of nowhere.

"I'm saved, I'm saved!"

It was a humanoid, perhaps even a full human. Everything about the stranger gave the appearance of being a true human woman. Apollo and Starbuck both had their weapons drawn, although Starbuck felt a little foolish as he watched the woman dance around with joy.

"Who are you? Is this your craft? What happened here?" Apollo lowered his weapon, although clearly not ready to trust the stranger yet.

"Karina I am, and this was indeed my craft." The woman slowed her wild gyrations and turned a brilliant smile on the two warriors. "And you boys are Colonial Warriors, unless things have changed since I was a part of the worlds."

"Yes, we're warriors," Starbuck admitted with a smile. She was very pretty. Long auburn curls hung down her back, and her flowing burgundy gown exposed smooth white shoulders. Part of him wondered why he was experiencing such intense interest in this lady, but the rest of him smiled and moved closer.

"As far as what happened... well, I don't rightly know," Karina admitted. She smiled at Starbuck, and he took another step towards her. Apollo had turned and was investigating the remains of the wreck. He saw something, he couldn't quite make it out... where had he seen something like that before?

Then he realized it was the same marking the wreck of Count Iblis' ship had borne. He spun around, weapon at the ready, to see Starbuck drawing even nearer to the beautiful maiden. "Starbuck, no! It's a trap!" he called, but was unable to do anything to prevent what happened next.

Karina saw where Apollo was and heard his warning. With a snarl that transformed her face from lovely to demonic, she struck out at Starbuck. The warrior went down in a heap, then vanished.

"Noooo!" Apollo howled. "What have you done with him!"

"He's mine now, and you will be too!" Karina raised her hand. Apollo ducked and rolled, preserved by some instinct. A ball of something exploded in a puff against the rock behind where he had stood.

"No! You have no power over me!" Apollo returned to his feet. "Iblis couldn't affect me without my willing consent, and neither can you."

Karina laughed. "How quaint—you think I operate within the rules, like dear old Iblis?" She made another throwing motion and Apollo lunged to the side.

"You will play by the rules, bitch!" Apollo leveled his laser and fired, with no effect. Karina laughed again.

"And how can you make me do that, when you're in my MindTrap with your dear friend?"

This time, Apollo couldn't dodge the thing she threw. It caught him on the shoulder and sent him screaming into oblivion.

Silver. That was all Starbuck could see anywhere, featureless, unchanging silver. Wait—perhaps not featureless, was that a curve...? He reached out a tentative hand. Yes, it was a curve. He was encased in an egg-shaped prison of seamless silver. The walls extended barely farther than he could reach above him or to the sides. He pounded the cool metallic wall in sudden fury.

"Damn you, Karina! What have you done to me? What have you done to Apollo?"

His voice echoed strangely in the confines of the egg. There was no response, beyond a faint echo of mocking laughter which was probably generated by his own subconscious. He glared at the silver substance with impotent fury. A sense of panic crept up on him. Enlcosed spaces. Small, enclosed spaces. Small, enclosed spaces, with no detectable source of fresh air...

Starbuck tried to distract himself from that line of thought as soon as he realized he was beginning to tremble. Apollo. Yes, that would do it, think about Apollo. He'd said better than even odds that he'd rather jump in bed with Starbuck than Sheba... Although, given a chance to think about that statement, he realized it didn't necessarily mean Apollo wanted him. Really, who wouldn't rather jump in bed with anyone but Sheba? The statement might just have been confirmation that Apollo had good taste, not that he was warming up to his best friend romantically. But oh, if he was... Well, if he was, then Starbuck would just have to get out of this bloody mirrored egg and overcome the last few qualms he had about loving a man. Loving... yes, loving a man. That would be quite the interesting situation. He thought back through previous relationships, comparing feelings and intensity. Uh-oh. What he was feeling for Apollo blew everyone else clean off the scale. That might be a good sign, or then again, it might be a bad sign. He sighed. The walls leaned in closer to look at him.

Starbuck swallowed hard against the sudden dryness in his throat. The walls weren't moving. They couldn't have just leaned in. Walls didn't listen to people's thoughts, anyway. They didn't look at people, either. He sank carefully to the floor. There, much better—now the egg looked bigger. But it was getting rather warm in here...

Warm. Okay, warm because... because he was thinking of Apollo. Warm because he was thinking about the way he wanted to kiss Apollo, to hold him, to touch him... Wonder if he'll like the same things I do...? Stands to reason, he is a guy, after all... Starbuck paused. Hmm... wonder if I'll like doing those things...?

The walls leaned closer still. Starbuck could feel them, pressing closer and closer... they were no longer cool and silver and impervious, now they were pulsing. They were looking at him. The temperature was rising, and there was no air—no fresh air at all...

The trembling took him offguard. He whimpered, an involuntary sound, staring transfixed at the walls. He threw his arms and legs out violently, needing space. Needing air, needing cool, needing space.... but to no avail. The walls were there. The walls were everywhere, they were coming closer again—Starbuck couldn't even straighten his arms. The nearly inaudible whimper rose in volume. He stopped it. What kind of warrior was he, to get upset over a little thing like a shrinking egg? An egg that was coming closer again... an egg with no air... what would Apollo think? He must hold it together, he must he must he must...

The walls closed in still further, folding his arms and legs in towards his body. Starbuck lost his fragile control and screamed with the last of the air. He went spinning into madness and oblivion.

He awoke in the same egg. It was cooler now; in fact, he thought he could almost feel a breeze. But it was still the same egg. He closed his eyes, unable to take the sight of his prison any longer. But he had to open them again, because it was better to see the monster. Monster? Yes, there it was, a monster in the egg with him. Or was it in the egg? Was it in the egg, or was it simply swimming through the cool silver walls of his prison? The amorphous black blob swam casually through the silver, making lazy circuits of the egg. It glared at him through a single red eye as it swam, remarkably like the monster which had lived under his bed when he was a small child. It came near him, close enoough for him to smell it, but it didn't touch him. It merely swam, content to make him nervous. He glared at it. It had no business being here. He'd conquered his fear of it long ago. In fact, he'd thought he'd conquered his fear of enclosed spaces as well. What was this egg? Some kind of psychotropic device, reflecting old fears back at him? If that was the case, then he should be able to survive this relatively intact. After all, the egg shrinking on him hadn't damaged him any—beyond the cold sweat and trembling which he was suffering now, remembering it.

"Go away," he said to the monster, experimentally. It continued to glare at him and swim in circles through the egg. So much for that thought. He settled back against the wall, ignoring the faint creepy feeling when the monster passed nearby. What in all hells... he quickly censored that thought. Last thing he wanted was for this egg to pick up on his notion of the myriad versions of hell. What in the worlds was this thing? And what purpose could possibly be served by having him in here?

The monster growled as it swam by.

"What's the matter, critter? You pissed 'cause I'm not afraid of you?" Starbuck laughed at his own whimsy. The silver walls rippled and the monster splashed a blob of silver goo at him. "Frack! Knock it off, you—that's no way to behave."

Starbuck wiped the goo off and continued watching the mindless circling of the thing. It was kind of neat, in a way, watching the black shape swim through the seemingly solid walls as easily as a seabeast in an ocean. He was seized by a sudden fierce longing to be free on a planet again. Not a barren red rock like this one, but a living and vibrant planet with fresh breezes and open spaces and Apollo... He closed his eyes. For a moment, he could almost feel the caress of a sea breeze on his cheek, hear the cry of avians as they hunted little black monsters... Then he heard a real sound and his eyes shot open. It was a tearing noise, and he wondered uneasily what could be happening now.

The seamless features of the egg began to ripple alarmingly. The monster vanished with a soft pop. A noise worked its way into the unchanging silence of his prison, a noise that sounded almost like... Apollo?

"Apollo?" he called, hesitantly. The rippling increased in speed.

"Star... can... hear me?"

It sounded like Apollo, but who knew what was real in this fracking egg. "Apollo! I'm in here!"

He stood up, testing the strength of the frantically rippling walls. Still strong, still solid—but wait, there was something here, a slight weakness. He tore at it frantically, working his fingers into a crack that fought back even as he pulled at it.

"Come on, Starbuck, come back to me, I know you can hear me—" Apollo's voice was much louder now. Starbuck clawed at the egg in a frenzy of need to get out, to get to his friend. "Come on, buddy, give me some kind of sign here, don't just lay there..."

Huh? Starbuck paused in his efforts. Lay there? Then he attacked the egg with renewed vigor. "Apollo! I don't suppose you could give me a hand here, could you?"

No response. "Didn't think so." Starbuck felt something encouraging: cool air, moving past his fingers. He gritted his teeth and tore the egg open with all his strength.

Starbuck opened his eyes to see Apollo bending over him.

"Star! You're back!" A wide grin split Apollo's face nearly in two.

"What the frack...?" Starbuck tried to move and found he was incredibly weak. He was laying on a slab of the all-pervasive red rock of the planet, in a dimly lit cavern.

"Shh, buddy. Don't move yet." Apollo laid a hand on his shoulder, concern replacing the joyful grin in his eyes. "It was a drug. Karina drugged us both and put us down here. But she miscalculated the dosage, as far as I can tell."

"A drug?" Starbuck repeated. His mind didn't want to work right.

"Yes, a drug. She called it MindTrap."

"Then the egg wasn't real?"

"No, it was all in your head." Apollo stood up and moved from Starbuck's field of view. Starbuck turned his head with an effort, to see Apollo silhouetted against a moderately well-lit opening in the red rock of the cavern. He wondered where they were. The overall impression was that this place was underground, but that light looked almost like sunlight.

"It's almost shift-change, Bucko," Apollo said, returning to Starbuck's side. "Think you can move now?"

Starbuck grunted. "Depends on what's in it for me..." He slowly rolled into an upright position. His body screamed at him. Apparently, it didn't care for laying on rock. "How long was I out? And what do you mean, shift-change?"

"Time for the Cylons to switch work shifts. I really don't know how long you've been out," Apollo admitted. "I've been awake for several centares. Karina left one of her minions in charge of me, but the creature was inept and didn't use the proper dosage of the MindTrap drug. I've been studying this place, trying to find you and find a way to get us out of here."

Starbuck rubbed his aching forehead. "And what have you found?"

"This is some kind of underground mining operation," Apollo said. "The Cylons are working it, under Karina's supervision. Can't tell what it is they're mining, but I did discover that Karina has a private menagerie of creatures from different star systems to experiment on and play her games with."

"Like us," Starbuck said. He raised his head, grateful to find that his eyes were willing to focus this time. Carefully, he stood up.

"Yes, like us. We need to get to the surface somehow. Our Vipers are still there." Apollo caught at his arm as Starbuck swayed unsteadily. "Careful—don't fall."

"Easy for you to say," Starbuck grumbled. The solid rock under his feet lurched and swayed sickeningly. He forced himself to ignore it and stood straight, although he didn't shake off Apollo's supporting hand. "Let's get the frack out of here."

Apollo gave him a long, considering look. "Okay then, if you're up to it... let's go."

They made their way out of the red cavern into a massive corridor. There was no one in sight. They reached the end of the corridor unchallenged, then Apollo stopped. The huge stone pathway continued downwards, with a tiny offshoot running up the side of the rock wall.

"Out there is the main mining operation," he said in a low voice. "We have to be very quiet and quick. We'll be following a narrow ledge around a deep pit and there are hundreds of Cylons down there. On the other side of the mine is an air vent, which leads directly to the surface. Our Vipers are out there. Ready?"

Starbuck reached down to draw his laser. The sheath was empty. "Frack!"

"Yeah, she got our weapons," Apollo grimaced. "And I couldn't find 'em—which is why we have to be quiet and quick."

"All right, let's do it!" Starbuck set out onto the narrow path. To one side, the rock wall dropped away into an immense cavern. Cylons toiled in eerie silence below, hauling chunks of ore, chipping at rocks, tending a blazing furnace—it was like a vision of hell.

The path shrunk to a mere few handspans wide. Starbuck clung to the rock wall beside him and refused to look down. Once he dislodged a rock which bounced down the cavern wall, directly into the midst of the Cylons. He froze, heart in throat, but there was no reaction. He continued up the path.

There was a blinding bright spot ahead—the air vent. Natural sunlight made a cheerful welcoming beacon, in contrast to the hellish light of the blast furnace below. Closer, closer—almost there—

Then there was an explosion of laser fire.

"Frack!" Apollo yelled. Another blast exploded near his feet. "Run for it, Star!"

Starbuck ran, followed closely by Apollo. Cylon fire continued to explode around them, showering them with brittle fragments of rock and sparks. Starbuck reached the air vent, only to find it was just barely out of his reach.

"Frack! Now what?" He looked frantically around, but there was nothing helpful in sight, only a handfull of centurions below, who had stopped work in favor of using them for target practice.

"I'll boost you up, then you can pull me up, okay?" Apollo wasted no time waiting for a reply, just grabbed Starbuck around the waist and lifted him the necessary few inches. With much struggling and swearing, Starbuck reached the safety of the air vent, then flipped around, braced himself, and held his arms out to Apollo- who barely reached safety before there was a vast explosion and the mouth of the vent caved in.

"What the frack was that?" Starbuck whispered, eyes wide at the narrow escape. The rockfall completely sealed off the vent. Apollo yelped and scrambled further in as a few stray rocks fell on his legs.

"They must have some kind of heavy weapons down here- a rocket launcher, maybe?"

A sound came in from outside, the sound of heavy feet crunching in the grit of the surface.

"They did not escape," said the metallic voice of a centurion. "There are no footprints. They were destroyed. Inform the Commander."

"The Commander will not be pleased," responded another Cylon. "Look further from the air shaft."

Apollo and Starbuck remained perfectly still and silent as the heavy crunching sounds continued for long minutes. Then they stopped.

"I repeat, they did not escape." Although the metallic voice of the Cylon had no inflection, it was easy to imagine the annoyance of the centurion. "Tell the Commander. They were destroyed."

"By your command."

The crunching noises faded away. Apollo crept silently to the mouth of the air vent, peering out for a quick look. He ducked back in when he saw that the centurions were still visible. He beckoned for Starbuck to join him at the mouth of the vent.

"As soon as they're gone," he whispered into Starbuck's ear.

Starbuck nodded. "Which way are the Vipers?" he whispered back. Apollo pointed in the direction opposite the Cylons.

The Cylons vanished into a well-concealed crack.

"Come on," Apollo said, and emerged onto the surface of the planet. He made a dash for the shelter of a pile of rocks. Starbuck followed. On the other side of the rocks, their Vipers waited. There was only one guard.

"When he's distracted, run like hell," Apollo whispered. He hefted a good-sized rock and Starbuck grinned.

"Gotcha, Captain."

Apollo waited until the guard, who was pacing back and forth in front of the Vipers, was turned away. Then he rose from the sheltering pile of rocks and lofted his own rock a good distance away. It landed with a satisfying crash and the centurion spun about, laser drawn and firing. Starbuck and Apollo ran for the Vipers while the Cylon was still trying to figure out what the sound had been.

When Starbuck reached his Viper, the first thing he did was power up the weapons and blast the Cylon away. Then he flipped on the main engines.

"Come on, baby, come on..." he muttered, as he ran through the preflight basics. Apollo's Viper lifted mere microns before Starbuck was off the ground. The two pilots opened their throttles to maximum and blasted free of the red planet's atmosphere.

"Yeeehaaa!!!" Starbuck cheered.

"We did it, buddy!" Apollo's voice, equally jubilant, came over the comm.

"Hot damn! Now let's get the frack back to the Galactica."

"Good plan," Apollo laughed. "If we can find her, anyways."

Starbuck groaned. "C'mon, Apollo—we just got out of trouble, don't go looking for more..."

"Honestly, Bucko, I'm not looking for trouble, but you know as well as I do we don't know how long we've been out."

"Apollo, I'm going to go back to the Galactica, and she's going to be right where she belongs, you got that? And you aren't going to convince me any different."

Apollo laughed. "Gotcha, buddy—the Galactica would never dare do anything you didn't approve of, right?"

"Right." Starbuck engaged his long range scanner. A familiar signature showed almost immediately. "There, see? I told you—she's right there."

"You win, Bucko. You were right again." There was a satisfied sigh. "She's a sight for sore eyes, all right. Can't wait to get home."

Starbuck started to agree, then paused. Home, where life would resume as usual. Only it wasn't very usual now, was it? There was still that unresolved matter between him and Apollo, that little bit of insanity which had been distressing him so for the last secton...

"Starbuck? Is something wrong?"

"No... why?"

"You just got awfully quiet, that's all." There was a brief pause, and then, "You're not going to keep avoiding me, are you?"

Starbuck grinned. "You might want me to, old friend."

"Huh?" Total surprise. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, there's still that matter of 'better than even odds' between us. You know what a lure that is for a gambler, don't you?"

A brief silence was followed by a quiet chuckle. "Starbuck..." He could imagine Apollo shaking his head, most likely with a wry smile. "Sometimes I just don't know what to do with you."

Starbuck choked with laughter. "Frack, Apollo—maybe you'd better figure it out, and soon, because I sure as hells know what I want to do with you." Then he held his breath. There, it was out now. He'd gone and said something that couldn't possibly be misinterpreted.

"Hmmm... we'll see about that," Apollo responded slyly. "But for now—heads up, Bucko, we're coming back into comms range. The fleet must have proceeded on without waiting for our return."

"Frack. We'd better get them to turn back. They're getting close to where we ran into that initial patrol."

Apollo hailed the Galactica and received a scratchy, broken up, but jubilant reply. The two warriors returned home to find a large crowd waiting for them.

Somehow, during the enthusiastic welcome, Apollo managed to make a report to his father about the danger ahead, while Starbuck discovered that they'd been gone for two days.

"Hey," Starbuck said, when the welcoming comittee got too enthusiastic for him. "Look, everyone, I missed you too, but give me a break here—I need a turbowash like now, and it's been two days since I ate anything, so if you don't mind...?"

Cassie was instantly apologetic. She shooed away the others—Athena, Boomer, most of Blue Squadron, Adama, Boxey—and ordered Apollo and Starbuck to their quarters to take care of themselves.

"Nice work," Apollo said, as they made their way to their rooms, alone again.

"Thanks. I don't know about you, but they were driving me nuts."

"Same here." They reached Starbuck's door and Apollo paused. He tilted his head sideways and looked Starbuck over critically. "You know, you look like you've been dragged through all the hells and then hung out to dry, but still..." He smiled and pulled Starbuck into a close embrace. "Still, I have to admit, you've got Sheba beat hands down."

Then he broke away and strode off down the corridor, whistling a jaunty little tune. Starbuck smiled and watched him for a moment, then entered his quarters. Damn if those odds weren't getting better by the centon...