BY YOUR COMMAND - Static ARCHIVE

It's been a hundred and fifty-six days.

Hard to believe that much time has passed.

Since Qor, I mean. The nightmare that won't end.

When I close my eyes, I can see him so clearly, standing in the snow, looking like a total mess with long, stringy hair and clothes that didn't fit. Calmly watching me get ready to go, way more accepting of things than I was…

I think he knew I wasn't coming back. I could see it in his eyes when he kissed me good-bye.

Even though I'd intended to. I really had, but circumstances prevented it.

I wish I could take back everything I said. I should've thought before I spoke, not just run on at the mouth telling him things that would only hurt him. Especially the stuff about Troy. He didn't need to know all that. God - why didn't I keep quiet?

But mostly, I wish he could know how much he helped us. The data-recorder, and the writings from the temple, saved us, both bodily and spiritually.

Everything is back to what it should be.

Well, almost everything.

He should be here. With me.

* * * *

When I got back to the Fleet from Qor, I was greeted by military security. After decontamination, they hustled me right to the brig, manhandling me the whole way like I was some mass-murderer. I don't know how long I paced around that cell - seemed like a lifetime - but finally Tigh appeared. He wasn't interested in anything I had to say for the first 15 or 20 centons. He yelled at me, threatened me, tried to make me feel ashamed of myself, but at that point, I had no shame left. Tigh's words just rolled off me as I waited for pause in the action. Finally, he had to stop to take a breath, so I said:

"I want to see the Commander."

Not the best choice of words, seeing as Tigh now had that job, but we both knew I meant Adama. He would always be the Commander to me. And, it knocked Tigh off-balance. He just blinked at me for a moment, not knowing what to say.

"Why?" he finally asked.

I looked him right in the eye and decided to hit him with the whole truth.

"Because I've seen his son. Apollo's alive."

Tigh didn't respond right away, and he shook his head, like he wasn't sure he'd heard me correctly.

"But - that's impossible. Where?"

"On Qor, where we left him. That's where I was, Tigh. That's where I went."

"But that's 4 parsecs…" he trailed off, thinking, then turned a new glare on me. "The missing fuel. It was you."

"Yeah, it was. But I had a good reason."

"That alone is worthy of a court martial, Lieutenant. On top of charges of desertion."

"Go ahead, sir. I really don't give a shit. But let me go back and get Apollo first. For Adama's sake, let me go."

I knew Tigh had been worried about Adama. Since being forced from command, he'd become a hermit, staying locked in the small quarters he'd moved into, spending his days in solitary mediation and prayer. He spoke to no-one, not even Athena. If I kept hammering at Tigh with this, maybe I'd get my way.

"And," I added smugly, "Apollo gave me the data recorder from the mission. It's in my ship. All this time you could've been analysing the files, if you'd bothered to talk to me before throwing me in the slammer."

The good Colonel (I mean Commander) and I were going through a rather acrimonious period. It had something to do with a couple things he'd said about me, trying to endear his own ass to the Council at the time of the command transition.

"Apollo is really alive?" he asked, still not believing me. "You really went back to Qor?"

"Check my nav-computer. It's all there."

"I'll do that."

"I want to see the Com - the former Commander. Apollo sent back some stuff for him."

"I will see that Adama gets it."

"No! Apollo asked me to do it." Dammit, he was going to make me beg for this. "Please, Tigh. Let me tell Adama about his son."

Tigh exhaled noisily, scowling at me. Finally, he nodded.

"If this data recorder is everything you say it is, then, perhaps I can allow for mitigating circumstances in your disappearance. You'll still be punished for your 14-day vacation, but not court martialled."

"What's more punishment after the five months I've had," I snapped. "There's nothing you could do to me that would matter, Tigh."

"You'll wait here until we've examined the data-recorder."

"Fine. More comfortable than my Viper. Oh, and you're welcome, by the way!"

This last part was called out to his retreating back.

****

I fell asleep. I didn't want to, wanted to be awake and with the biggest smuggest grin plastered across my face when Tigh came to let me out, but I hadn't slept much on the way back. I was paranoid about meeting Cylons or having some other disaster that would prevent me from getting here, so I stayed awake, eyes glued to the scanner, ready to cut and run at the first sign of trouble. I wasn't going to let Apollo down now. If something was going to go wrong, it wasn't gonna to be my fault.

"Starbuck! Come on, Bucko, wake up!"

I opened my eyes, saw grey wall right in front of my face, didn't know where I was at first. Oh yeah. Jail.

"Lieutenant!"

I rolled over, saw Boomer on the other side of the forcefield.

"Captain."

"I always kinda thought you'd end up in here," Boomer says, grinning.

"Glad you're not disappointed," I replied, sitting up.

Recently, we'd cautiously renewed our friendship. Not that he'd stopped being my friend, just, with circumstances, we'd had to put it on hold for a while. And, it was at my instigation; I didn't want him caught up in all the crap. He had enough to worry about already. But he'd noticed I was starting to lose it, came back to steady me at just the right time.

"I figured you were gone for good," he said, more seriously. "Glad you've come back, old buddy."

"Well, you're the only one, so far."

"Your nav-computer checked out. You really did go to Qor."

"Yep."

He regarded me for one long moment.

"Are you serious about Apollo?" he asked quietly.

I smiled and got teary-eyed at the same time, showing him the emotion I'd held in when talking to Tigh.

"He's alive, Boomer, and waiting for us to go get him."

He returned my smile, and shook his head.

"Unbelievable. What's he been doing all this time?"

"I don't know, I never asked. Just surviving, I guess."

"It's good news."

"You think so?"

"Of course! My god, Starbuck, I've missed him almost as much as you have."

That much was true.

****

Cleaned up, dressed in a fresh uniform, I arrived at Adama's quarters carrying the things Apollo had given me. Adama was living very close to Athena and Troy, but never even stuck his head out the door. There'd been a few rumours that he was actually dead, which Athena would debunk by busting in on her father, disturbing his meditation. For food Adama had laid in his own supply of ration bars so he could be completely self-sufficient and concentrate on invoking the gods to help us.

I was split on how I felt about him. One the one hand, I thought he should be more visible, that he should be fighting to get back what was rightfully his. But on the other, I was more than a little burned by the way he'd treated me: after all my yahrens of faithful service, he did nothing when the lynch mobs were at my door. Still, I couldn't deny the my feelings of unreasoning loyalty towards him, and while I've never been a religious man, there was always a sort of - I don't know - aura about him that inspired my confidence. I guess it was how Adama freely admitted that he was divinely guided and owed his successes - and failures - to the great god above. Even after losing his command, he accepted it as merely another test for him, and there was something about his unshakable faith that reached me. I couldn't turn my back on him. I just couldn't do it.

That's not to say he was thrilled about me and Apollo. He was not. He'd probably been meditating on that, too.

I hit the doorchime, got no response, as expected.

"Commander," I said, "it's Starbuck. I really need to talk to you, sir."

Nothing. I pounded on the door with my fist.

"Listen, Commander! I have to talk to you, and I'm coming in whether you like it or not!"

A total bluff … but, the door slid open, so a successful one.

I'd never been in there before, and the place was more like a modified closet than living quarters. One bunk, one chair, one table loaded with papers and data pads and books. One old man glaring at me, standing on the only clear patch of floor space. When I stepped inside, we were practically nose to nose.

"What is the purpose of this intrusion?" he demanded.

Did he even know I'd been missing? Probably not, but before I could answer, he spoke again.

"Tigh tells me you have some crazy story about my son."

I sighed, hearing that the Colonel (Commander!) had spoiled the surprise.

"It's not a crazy story. It's the truth."

"In my experience," Adama said severely, "deserters always have fantastic tales to explain why they left."

"I don't need any fantastic tale, sir. Reality would have been more than enough!"

That got through to him, and he indicated for me to sit on the bunk, while he took the chair. He listened patiently while I told him everything that had happened on Qor - well, not absolutely everything - but the important parts. He remained skeptical, and I really couldn't blame him. Like me, he'd accepted his son's loss, and if I hadn't seen Apollo for myself, I would've been leery about this story too.

Adama was very interested in the religious writings, admitted that, in his opinion, these alone might have made my journey to Qor worthwhile.

But I wish Apollo had warned me about the other thing he sent back.

Adama undid the top of the sachtel, looked inside, and just froze.

"What is it, sir?" I asked, after nearly a centon had passed.

With trembling hands he took out Apollo's uniform and hugged to him. He dropped his head and his shoulders started shaking, and I realized he was crying. I didn't know what to do. Go get Athena? Leave the man in peace?

"Commander," I said desperately, "we can bring him home."

He looked at me, and for the first time I saw what kind of private hell he'd been living in. I should have known that before; Adama loved his children more than life itself, and having Apollo villified must have been killing him.

"He's waiting for me, sir."

Adama nodded, squeezed that uniform a little tighter.

"I will speak to Tigh," he said.

"I'll be ready to go, at a moment's notice."

He nodded. "Thank you, Starbuck."

****

A ringing silence greeted my entry to the OC. Well, what did I expect? That they'd all be waiting for me with open arms? Cold gazes followed me over the rims of glasses. I walked up to the bar, thinking: I just saved all your asses, you ungrateful bastards.

"What can I get you, Starbuck?" asked Baird, the bartender.

"Well, I'm celebrating, actually," I replied, loud enough for all of them to hear. "And feeling generous. So I'd like you to get everybody a drink, on me."

This got a murmur out of the crowd. Baird leaned forward and said:

"I heard what you did, Bucko. These assholes don't deserve a drink."

"No, you're probably right. But it is traditional, when somebody pulls off an amazing feat, to brag about it in this manner. And who am I to mess with tradition?"

Baird grinned at me, turned to start filling glasses.

Someone joined me at the bar. It was Giles.

"I don't know if everybody's gonna want a drink from you," he said.

I was never sure what Giles really thought. He treated me with poised indifference, but I knew he was troubled by everything Bojay had reported about the mission. Giles had said to Boomer, on more than one occasion, that he wished he could remember more, that Bojay's words never rang true. So, he wasn't my enemy, but not quite a friend either.

"Does this hostile faction include you, Giles?" I asked, as Baird set a glass in front of him.

Giles looked at the glass, then at me, and, god love him, he nearly made me cry when he picked up his drink and said:

"Nope. I'm glad you're back, and I hear you completed the mission. Boomer's meeting with Tigh as we speak."

Then Giles turned to the others, all of whom now had my round sitting in front of them. He stared them down and said:

"I don't know about the rest of you, but when Starbuck disappeared I felt like the biggest coward in the Fleet. And here he went and did something for us that should earn him a medal, but probably won't. In case you haven't heard, he found the data-recorder on Qor and brought it back. Pretty soon we'll know where all the metal-heads are, and be on our way out of this hell-hole. So the least we can do is raise our glasses and thank him, even though we owe him a lot more."

Giles raised his glass, and, slowly, others followed suit. Jolly, Greenbean, and Rogan were the first. Not everybody agreed with Giles, but enough of them did to leave me speechless and choked up. Baird clapped me on the shoulder.

"Giles -" I began.

"Quiet," he said, smiling. "You don't have to say anything, Starbuck. Just enjoy your drink."

****

Things happened quickly after that. Now that we knew what to look for, we could send scouts out to precise locations to confirm the intelligence Apollo had gathered. Tigh, to his credit, conveniently forgot that I was the one who'd stolen all the fuel, realizing that what I'd brought back was much more important than my criminal act. And he was relieved that the tension level between me and my fellow officers was greatly reduced, thanks mostly to Giles taking a stand in the OC.

But all I thought about was going back to Qor. It was all I bugged Tigh about, and he wasn't stalling me to be a bastard about it; I know that now, even if it's what he appeared to be doing at the time. The safety of the Fleet had to come first, and Tigh needed every one of us, including me. Finally, he gave me the honour of doing a long-range scout along a possible course heading. Thanks to the data-recorder, we'd located an apparently clear corridor, free from Cylon activity. Why were there no Cylons? They seemed to be everywhere else, why were they avoiding this area? Really, it should have been Captain Boomer that checked this out, but Tigh was intent on fully reintegrating me, so I was given this most important mission. It just wasn't the direction I wanted to be going in.

At that point, it had been 15 days since I left Apollo. As far as I could tell, Adama had said nothing to Tigh, didn't seem inclined to interfere with our escape preparations. So just before I was to take off, I went back to see him. The (former) Commander let me in with no delays this time, almost like he was expecting me.

"Commander," I said, coming right to the point, "Tigh hasn't said anything about rescuing Apollo. It's been 15 days - he would've expected me back by now."

"I know, Starbuck, but everyone is needed here. I don't wish to put Tigh in a difficult position. He has enough to occupy his mind at the moment."

"But Apollo -"

He quieted me by laying a hand on my arm.

"I know," he said, a slight tremour in his voice betraying his inner turmoil. "And if I could follow my heart, I'd be in a ship right now on my way to him."

"You could go," I replied. "There's nothing keeping you here, Commander. I can give you the exact headings."

"You mean there is nothing 'official' holding me here." He hesitated, looked at the documents from Qor that were spread across his tabletop. "I am close to something, Starbuck. I don't expect you to understand, but I feel I am being divinely guided right now, and I must continue my work."

"You can read those?" I asked.

"Not yet. But I have learned one very important thing. These documents are not exactly in a different language: they are encoded. And I am close to finding the key."

"You really think they're that important?" I snapped, a little too harshly, but tact was never my strong point, especially when I was upset.

"Yes," Adama replied guardedly.

"More important than your son?"

A low blow. Very low. I regretted it as soon as I said it.

"His face haunts me, Starbuck. I feel like I'm losing him all over again."

"You're not losing him again! Just talk to Tigh - I'll be out of here in two centons flat -"

"Bridge to Lieutenant Starbuck."

Omega's voice over the comm interrupted me.

"Starbuck here."

"You are due in the launch bay."

"I know. I'm on my way."

"Commander Tigh has asked me to remind you that you are still on report -"

"As if I could forget, Omega! I'm going! Starbuck out."

Adama and I just looked at each other for one long moment.

"Please," I said, "please don't let Tigh leave him there."

I'm not ashamed to say I got a little emotional on the Commander. So much so that he put a steadying arm around my shoulders, the first time he'd ever done that.

"Tigh will do what he can," Adama said. "I have no doubt about that, Starbuck. And if I asked him, he would send someone out for Apollo, even if it jeopardized all his plans. So it's for that very reason I will not ask. He will go for Apollo when the time is right."

Or not at all, I finished darkly for the Commander. He had more faith in Tigh than I did.

I had no choice. I left. I flew my mission exactly as ordered. I came back.

To a Cylon attack force. They'd found us again, and were engaging our fighters as I came into scanner range. I knew right then that we'd be running as soon as we beat them off.

I knew right then that Apollo was likely lost to us for good.

I joined the fighting, anger making me reckless, despair making me hope for one Cylon with good aim. But my involvement was short-lived, as an angry voice blasted into my ears:

"Starbuck, what the hell are you doing? Get in here! I need your report!"

Tigh. Listlessly, I turned towards the Galactica, landed and dragged my ass up to the Bridge.

As predicted, we fired up the engines and hightailed it out of there along the heading I'd scouted.

How ironic that it was my good work that led us away from Apollo. It makes me laugh bitterly over a glass of ambrosia.

Makes me cry, when I can't get to sleep.

Like Adama said: His face haunts me. I'd lost him for the second time.

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