BY YOUR COMMAND - Static ARCHIVE

 

Set two yahrens before the events of "Galactica: 1980"

Captain Troy idly mused his half-filled mug of ambrosa, looking into the depths of his drink as though it offered the pearls of wisdom that he sought. Or the answers to his problems.

'The little snake!' he wanted to shout, not letting his emotions come to the surface. He'd seen how close Dillon's body was to that little ensign in the launch bay, and how she had looked up admiringly at him. Sure, Dillon was cute, but he was Troy's. Period, point, blank.

For two yahrens, they'd been seeing each other. Maintaining that kind of relationship hadn't been easy, especially since Troy was Blue Leader, and Dillon was his immediate subordinate. In the last few yahrens, relationships between officers, either with the same sex or opposite sex, were discouraged.

With a wry smile, Troy remembered when they had been first enforced. It had been when Sheba, his father's fiancée, was killed yahrens before. Apollo, who had already survived the deaths of Boxey's mother and several close friends, had seriously nearly fallen apart after Sheba had passed on. Only by a miracle had he pulled himself together again, and in the remaining sectars before his own death during a mission, he had been an example of proper military behavior.

Despite the rules, Troy disregarded them very easily. It must have been the influence of his late Uncle Starbuck, but the day he had fallen for Dillon, he didn't care what Colonel Boomer, or even his grandfather, Commander Adama, had to say on the issue.

But still... He couldn't get the image of Dillon and that ensign out of his mind. They were out on patrol at the moment, and Troy was waiting very expectantly for when his lover returned, so he could talk to him. Maybe Dillon was too much like Starbuck for his own good, he reflected.

With a sigh, he realized that someone was approaching his table. Looking up, he saw that it was Colonel Boomer. The black man's face was somber, as well, as he walked toward him, and something about him told Troy that he should find out what was wrong with his superior officer.

"Mind if I join you?" the older man asked when he arrived.

"Go right ahead," Troy nodded, motioning to the empty seats surrounded the round table. "You look like you could use some company."

"Perhaps. It's just been a long sectar that's far from over." Boomer sighed, then took a sip of his baharri. "Dillon's on patrol, I assume?"

"Yeah." To avoid answering it further, he started to drink a few sips of his ambrosa. It was warm now, and he grimaced slightly at the taste.

"Good." The Colonel paused slightly, glancing around the club, then leaned closer to the Captain. "Troy, I'd like to talk to you for a few microns. The other squadron leaders thought it might be a good idea if I brought a few things to your attention."

"Oh? Who in particular?" Troy demanded, feeling a blush heat its way into his cheeks. "Dante, I suppose?"

"Yes, Sergeant Dante has mentioned a few particularities to me, as have the other leaders." As he spoke, Boomer's dark eyes searched the younger man's face, looking for some hint of what was being hidden beneath the surface.

"Figures," he mumbled. "Well, Colonel, the answer is that nothing's wrong."

He knew the micron the words were past his lips that he wasn't going to get away with it. Instead, Boomer learned forward in his chair to look him in the eye.

"Felgercarb," he said simply, "and you know it as well as I do. I've known you since you were six yahrens old, Troy. I've watched you grow into the man you are, and I've seen you at your brightest moments of achievements. I've also seen you at your lowest, especially after you suffered the losses of your mother, Starbuck, Sheba, Athena and Apollo. I did, too, for Sagan's sake. But this, Troy, I'm not sure what it is. All I know is that you're not acting up to par to your normal standards. You've potentially compromised several missions, and it's not like you at all. While I haven't alerted your grandfather to this problem yet, I just might have to, if that's the only way I'll get an answer out of you. Understood?"

Feeling chastised, Troy ducked his head. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Now," Boomer paused as he waved at a passing barman, "how about another drink?"

"Thanks," he mumbled.

With a slight smile, Boomer waited until the second round of ambrosas arrived before he spoke again. Regarding the captain with a serious look, he ventured again with, "Well?"

"Well..." He sighed. "Look, it's stupid. It's nothing, really." Boomer raised an eyebrow ever so slightly. "Okay, okay... If you weren't one of my father's closest friends when he was alive, I don't think I'd be telling you this. Lord knows, I'd never have told old Colonel Tigh if he were still around."

Boomer gave a nod of encouragement. "Go on."

"Right." But it wasn't that easy. One didn't just confess to their superior officer about their infatuation and attempt at a relationship with a junior officer, especially when the regulations expressly forbade it. "Well, it's kinda personal."

"I gathered that."

"I've... fallen in love with another pilot," he began, avoiding the colonel's gaze as he spoke.

"Ah," he nodded. "And does this pilot know?"

"Oh, yeah, definitely. We've been seeing each other for two yahrens." Troy smiled at the surprise on Boomer's face. "Amazes me, too. I mean, I know it's discouraged, but... love is love, Colonel."

"I know, believe me." Boomer paused slightly, then asked a question. "Do you mind my asking who it is?"

For a micron, he paused as he stared at the Colonel. "Dillon."

"Ah, I'd suspected as much," he replied quietly, with a slight nod.

A smile quirked its way onto Troy's lips. "That noticeable, huh? And here I was being discreet."

"No, to the average person, they have no idea what's going on between you two. But I've been around long enough to see quite a few things in my life. Often, people don't notice things they would if they knew what they were seeing."

"Oh." Feeling slightly relieved, he continued. "Well, I guess what the problem is that we can't really be official by the rule. But he's ignoring it in other ways too." His lips pursed in frustration. "He's flirting with some of the female pilots, too. It's really bothering me. If it weren't for that rule, we could just become formal, and it would save me some of the grief."

"Your father didn't care for the rule, either," Boomer said, just before taking a large sip. His lips curved into a smile as he remembered. "And it's a rule he created, too. No, he disregarded it just as easily as anything else."

Troy felt his jaw drop as he stared at the Colonel in shock. "My father had another lover after Sheba's death? Who? How come I didn't know about it? When did it take place?"

"Calm down," Boomer chuckled, shaking his head ruefully. "No, you never knew because he felt you were too young to know about his love life."

"I was eleven!"

"Eleven yahrens young. He just thought that when the proper time came, he'd let you know. Unfortunately," he sighed heavily, "he never had the chance."

"All right, all right, so I was too young. But," Troy's eyes narrowed, "who was it?"

"Me."

The captain thought that his jaw would disconnect from his skull. "You? You and my father? Together?"

"Oh, yes." Boomer's smile was genuine now, a gentle smile as he recalled incidents that Troy could only guess at. "Yes, we were quite the pair. You wouldn't have thought of us as being attracted to each other, since we were more alike than not, but it happened."

"When?" Troy found himself nearly breathless, wanting to hear the story. The sectars between Sheba and Apollo's individual deaths had gone by so quickly, it seemed, that many of the images were blurred in his memory. He couldn't seem to conjure up anything that would explain how Apollo had been in those sectars. Depressed, yes, but he couldn't picture him as being very happy. Not after Sheba, who Troy knew had loved Apollo passionately, and he had returned that love equally. "How?"

"A sectar or so after Sheba died. We were all there for him after she died, but he wasn't the same. None of us in Blue Squadron had any hope that we would be granted a miracle that would allow us to have the old Apollo back." Boomer grimaced slightly, shaking his head. "He would go about the duties normally as an example of military decorum, but his eyes had no sparkle. He would issue orders, but there was no passion in his voice. When Sheba died, she took a part of him with her. And so did Starbuck and Serina, when they died. The only time I ever saw him with even a shadow of his former self was with you, Troy."

"I remember," the Captain smiled, remembering the few events during that brief time. Those moments were few and far between, but whenever Apollo's face would have that rare grin, Troy had cherished it. But as he remembered those moments, he paused as a new image came to mind. Apollo had been leaning against a wall as Troy had approached him, and to his shock, he looked completely different. Smiling to himself, it was like the shell of the somber, gray-faced Apollo had melted away to reveal the more cheerful, bright-faced man that Troy remembered. It was like... magic. "And then there was you?"

Boomer laughed slightly. "I suppose. One day, your father had pulled two long shifts in a row, and he'd been awake from what must have been at least twenty-six, maybe thirty centars. You were in learning instruction, I remember, and Apollo was heading for your quarters when I came across him. He looked so worn-down that it frightened me.

"I don't really remember how, but I managed to convince him that I should escort him to his chambers. I was positive that he was going to collapse centons before he even reached the proper deck. I took hold of his arm, making sure that I steered him to the right place. He just about collapsed onto the bed, but he didn't fall immediately asleep. Instead, he mumbled something. I'm still not sure what it was.

"I leaned down to hear what he said, but instead I found myself looking into his eyes. They were so large, especially when he got this one look on his face that seemed to take yahrens off him. So big, so green, and I'm sure I could see right into his soul.

"The hurt inside him, Troy, I could see it. He was so sensitive, that everything that had ever happened to him was still near the surface. He missed Sheba terribly, and I could tell that he wasn't sure if he'd be able to continue living. All that I could see in just a few microns of eye contact.

"We just stared at each other, then I couldn't help myself. I reached down to brush his forehead gently with my fingers, and I didn't look away as I told him that if he needed a reason to live, then I would give him one. Before I knew what I was doing, I leaned down to kiss him. Just the once, on the lips, but I could tell that it had affected him.

"Me, I was surprised. I mean, I'd known him since we were in the Academy, but I'd never thought of him as anything other than a friend. Lords, he was good looking, but I never felt it was my place. I mean, he'd really only had three partners before. Starbuck, your mother, and Sheba, which," he grinned, "I'm sure is more than you ever wanted to know."

Troy blushed slightly. "Yeah, you could say that."

"I thought so. Well, after the kiss, he looked at me in a daze, then murmured something again. This time, I heard him. He told me that he loved me, but before I could say anything, he fell asleep." Boomer smiled as he remembered, looking content at the memory. "I stayed there, watching him for another half centar, then left. I really didn't expect a change in him when he awoke centars later, but when he deliberately sought me out so we could talk, I could see a difference.

"And that's how it started. Simple like that, almost accidental, but I'll always remember your father in an entirely different light now. He was so passionate, it was like the inner fire of his soul had flared back to life."

"But what about the rule?" Troy asked, genuinely interested. Oddly enough, he didn't find himself hurt that his father had deliberately kept his one bit of happiness from him, but at least he now knew who to thank for those bright moments of happiness that Apollo had experienced.

"He cursed it the first time we were together. He said that we were an exception." Boomer laughed, and his eyes held a faraway expression to them, as though seeing a different captain in front of him. "He said that he'd never broken a rule before, claiming that his rank gave him the right, but now, he decided that it was worth it."

"And was it?"

"Yes. All those sectars, it was beautiful. Your father was a very special man, Troy, in more ways that one. Captain of the squadrons, and hero of the fleet. Your father, and first my friend, then my lover. So many roles, but I often wondered, who was the real Apollo within?"

"I'd say all of them," Troy replied. "I still miss him, and it's been how many yahrens?"

"Twenty-three yahrens," the Colonel murmured. "Twenty-three yahrens, eight sectars, two sectons, and about three days."

Troy laughed. "I guess you miss him, too, then? Even now?"

"Even now. The day your father died, I can still remember it. Everyone was on edge, and the tension, it was so thick, you felt like you were suffocating. We were just waiting for the Cylons to show up. The last patrol had found signs that they were coming, and we knew it was going to be a very large taskforce.

"Apollo had us on alert, and the micron I met him and the rest of the squadron in the launching bay, it was like an image from a dream. And it was, too. An image from a nightmare.

"You see, Troy, my uncle was sealed to a woman from Aeries, and was she ever superstitious. But she told the most wonderful stories, and one of them was about a creature that roamed the land from her area of the planet. She was like a banshee, or a crone. They called her 'Babaing mahinhin kamatayan,' and she could come to announce someone's death. Like a ghost, she would come to haunt the household that would be hit with misfortunate.

"That story scared me so many times, Troy. I'd have nightmares of a woman, beautiful beyond belief, standing outside my window on Caprica. Pale skin like the moonlight, and these wide, dark eyes that would reflect your soul. She would stare at you mournfully, then her lips, as perfect as I've ever seen, would part, and out would come the most haunting melody. It would start out so beautifully, then it would rise to a horrible keening that would just shatter you with its grief.

"My aunt always said that she sang one song in particular, when she would wail, 'Siya ay mina.' 'He is mine,' or sometimes 'she,' depending on the accent. Over and over, her voice changing pitch as she sang.

"So she would sing to me in my dreams. It might have been real, I don't know. But for yahrens, she would sing to me, and yet no one would die. 'Siya ay mina,' she'd say, and I knew she'd be talking about a man from the pronunciation. Still, all the men in my life lived.

"And then, when I posted to the Galactica, the dreams stopped. Just like that, I didn't have them anymore. I'd almost forgotten them, until yahrens later, she came back to me." Boomer stopped his narrative, closing his eyes as he cocked his head. It was almost as though between them, the faint strain of the keening could be heard, but only to the Colonel's ears. Swirling between them; haunting Boomer and enrapturing Troy.

"When did they begin again?" Troy's voice was hushed, like that of a child who was hooked onto a story that a beloved adult was weaving.

"Exactly seven sectars, nearly to the day, after Sheba died. I'd spent the night with your father, as we often did in those days. I think you were probably with the Commander that night. Nothing too unusual, I know, but this...

"It was the middle of the night, and I awoke with a start. I was just so cold, like shroud of cold, clammy air had descended on me. Apollo was right beside me, and he was this wonderful warmth where his arm rested on my chest, and his leg touched mine. Otherwise, I was freezing.

"And there she was, the Babaing mahinhin kamatayan, watching us from across the room. There was a faint light around her, illuminating maybe the ten or so centimetrons around her. She was exactly as I remembered, and her dark eyes were large as she stared at us. Her lips were barely moving with her old chant, 'Siya ay mina.' But where she used to repeat it again, she continued. 'Siya ay mina, pagayon sa lalong madaling panahon. Oo, pagayon sa lalong madaling panahon siya ay mina.' 'He is mine, so soon. Yes, so soon, he is mine.'

"I was frozen to the bed as she drifted toward us, and she reached out to brush the edge of her cloak over Apollo's shoulders, and then her fingers ran from the nape of his neck up to his jaw. I saw him shudder in his sleep, but he didn't wake. Then she looked at me, smiled, and vanished.

"When we got up the next morning, I didn't dare tell your father about my dream. I didn't want him to scoff at me, but I was determined to beat the Babaing mahinhin kamatayan at her own game. I didn't leave Apollo's side at all that morning, and I would have continued during the afternoon, but that's when the news of the Cylons came in. Apollo was summoned to the bridge, and I waited with the rest of the pilots in the bay, waiting for word that we were to launch.

"Apollo brought the news down with him as he joined us in our Vipers. When he exited the lift, though, he wasn't alone. The Babaing mahinhin kamatayan, she was directly behind him, shadowing his every footstep as he crossed the bay to his Viper. Whether anyone else saw, I don't know, but I knew that if we did launch into battle, I had to protect him at all costs. I wasn't about to let one of my oldest friends, and now my lover, die, when I could prevent it.

"But..." Boomer shook his head forlornly, "fate has her way of interfering. No matter how often I tried to keep in range of his Viper, he would get separated from me. Then I would catch up with him, only to have him disappear again.

"And then it happened. His ship took a direct hit. I wasn't in the immediate vicinity, but Jolly was. I could hear him screaming Apollo's name as the Cylon went into that last approach. His Viper moved, but it was too late. Oddly enough, his Viper wasn't destroyed. I could see that he wasn't all right, though, and he didn't respond to my shouts over the comline. So I towed him back to the Galactica, and I'm still not sure how I did it. Your grandfather was alerted that Apollo was injured, and then we went in.

"I was the first person at your father's Viper after I landed, and I could tell that the ship was on fire. Apollo was unconscious when I pulled him out, and it was a miracle in itself that he was alive. I got him out of range of the ship, then lay him down on the deck with his head on my lap. He was a horrible sight. His face was burned, along with his torso and hands. But then when he opened his eyes, they were so clear...

"I don't think he was in pain, but I kept telling him to hang on, that help was coming. I told him that he needed to conserve his strength, because you needed him. Your grandfather needed him, and I needed him. We all did.

"But he just smiled at me. His voice was a whisper, but he told me that he loved me. He stared into my eyes as he spoke, and he frowned, asking me where the beautiful singing was coming from.

"'What singing?' I asked him, and he told me that he heard a woman wailing in a strange language. As he spoke, I listened carefully, and I could hear her. She wasn't visible, but her words were clearly enunciated as they wove their way around and between us. It was jarring to my nerves, but it seemed to soothe Apollo.

"Her singing became shriller and more piercing. I can't say how, but I had the impression that the melody had wrapped itself around Apollo's soul. Not taking it, but guiding it out of his body. I watched as the brightness of his eyes dimmed, and then it just faded to nothing."

There was silence around the table as both remembered the man they had both cared for dearly, then Troy spoke up. He was surprised to hear the trembling in his voice.

"I remember going to see him in the Life Center. You were there, I remember, and you were standing there so quietly. I didn't really want to see him, since a part of me believed that he was still alive, but when I saw him lying there, not breathing, I cried. Grandfather was there, and he was in the same shape. We comforted each other, I remember, but..." He looked at his father's old lover with eyes that were full of remorse. "But no one was there for you."

He shrugged slightly. "I didn't really need anyone. I had my memories, and the knowledge that he was safe where he was now. I had that brief period of happiness, and it was enough for me."

Troy wasn't convinced. He could only imagine what it felt to be in love with someone, then when his lover died, to be totally alone. Never acknowledged, not even in memorials or anything. Would that happen to Troy should, Kobol forbid, the Cylons ever succeed in killing Dillon? What would he say to his lover's parents, when they gathered for the memorial service? Would he just be the Captain of Blue Squadron? A close friend of the deceased? Or would he be something more? Could he even admit that?

"Thank you, Boomer," he murmured, despite his doubts. "Thank you for sharing, and your honesty."

"I hope something about what I said helped," the Colonel replied, smiling warmly. "It's not easy what you're going through, but if it works out, it can be worth it. Even if it doesn't have a traditionally happy ending."

"Maybe," Troy nodded. "I guess I'll have to talk to him once he gets back."

"Do that. Talk to him, and maybe you two can work some kind of agreement out. I'm sure Dillon's reasonable, despite the numerous times he's been put on report."

"No more than I have, sir. And my father, come to think of it." Troy allowed himself to smile, then raised his mug to the darker man. "To relationships, past and present, and to the dead, that they may rest contentedly."

Boomer smiled, raising his own mug in salute, then took a long drink. Youth and optimism never changed, and he'd give anything to be a fleogan on the wall when the two younger warriors spoke. Troy could be so much like his father sometimes...

*fin* geovisit();