Failing Better

Ever tried. Ever failed.
No matter. Try Again.
Fail again. Fail better.
Samuel Beckett

07 Sextus 6491, afternoon
Battlestar Galactica

He'd done this over a yahren ago, too. He'd stood in the dense shadow underneath the deckmaster's office where it butted up against one of the massive support pillars for the flight deck, watching a shuttle arrive from Demeter. And here he was again, as if no time had passed. Nothing gained, nothing learned. Sent back to do it all over again.

Watching shuttles land was turning into a bad habit. Starbuck huffed out a queer noise that might have been a laugh. Bad habits he had in plenty, but this one made him look like a lovesick fool.

He leaned up against the support pillar, its metal cool against his shoulder and upper arm even through the thickness of his flight jacket, and watched the shuttle touch down. The deck flexed minutely beneath his feet; not much, but enough for him to feel it. It was a good, clean landing. About what he'd expect from Dietra; she was wasted on shuttles.

The yahren before he'd wanted to have his first glimpse of Apollo in conditions where he couldn't be seen, where no-one could look at him and wonder what in Hades was up with him, where he could get some armour into place. It might have been a coward's way of coping, but it had worked. He'd been over the sheer shock of seeing Apollo again before he'd made his way to Apollo's quarters to welcome him to the Galactica

The armour was thin and brittle now.

He pressed back into the shadows, making sure that Athena didn't catch a glimpse of him as she hurried down the shuttle ramp in the Commander's wake. It was safer. She always wanted explanations and words and reassurance, and the only explanations and words that Starbuck had weren't for her. And the Lords alone knew that he didn't have much reassurance to offer anybody.

Apollo followed his family more slowly, chivvying along a group of gawky new ensigns to where Jillia, Boah and Boomer waited for him on the flight deck.

Starbuck faded further back into the darkness. If Athena wanted words and explanations that he didn't have to offer, then Apollo could shatter him like flawed glass. Both together? Way too much.

As soon as the Decontamination chamber doors closed on Athena and the Commander, Starbuck sidled out of the shadows and wandered oh-so-casually over to the meet and greet group. Boomer spotted him first and, if the eye rolling was anything to go by, saw right through him at the same time. Boomer's antics must have caught Apollo's attention. In the midst of introducing the three squadron leaders who would be nursemaiding the ensigns through their 'prentice yahren, he glanced over his shoulder.

And didn't so much as miss a beat. "And this is First Lieutenant Starbuck who should be up in the Duty Office doing something productive—"

"The filing is not productive," protested Starbuck.

He could have sworn that Apollo's mouth twitched. "It is if it keeps the Management off my back, Lieutenant. What are you doing lurking about on the flight deck?"

"Just passing." Starbuck gave the eight ensigns a wave and a smile.

"Ha." Apollo turned his attention back to Galactica's newest officers. "I'm supposed to give you a pep talk about serving here on the Galactica, before you set off on your guided tour and get assigned to your squadrons. So here you go." He paused waiting until every eye was on him. "You aren't kids any more. You aren't at school. You're here to do a real job, something important, after being cooped up in the Academy for the last four yahrens. It can be pretty exciting. We get that. We get that it goes to your heads, sometimes."

"Like puppies let off the leash," murmured Starbuck.

The ensigns stared. Only one began to grin in response, faster than the others to find his balance. Starbuck recognised Zac from the brief glimpse he'd once got of him in a Caprica City hospital. He didn't think Zac recognised him, though, and grinned back.

"Sometimes," said Apollo, "horrifying as it is, you sometimes have to admit that Starbuck gets it right. Puppies. Well, I like puppies. The lieutenants here all like puppies. And they'll be pretty forgiving about things like you peeing in the corner when you get too excited."

Everyone laughed, although Boomer did a bit more eye-rolling.

Apollo grinned too, letting them have their moment. His tone was still genial. Kind, even. "But get this straight right now. High spirits are one thing, endangering yourself and everyone else with juvenile antics are something else entirely. This isn't the Academy any more. You're here to do a job. When you're on duty, you'll give that one hundred percent and save the jokes and pranks for when your duty shift's over. Work is serious." Apollo paused to allow them to digest that and his expression hardened. "Learn fast where that line is, because you being reckless or stupid or immature will piss me off. You don't want to do that. I am nowhere near as forgiving as your squadron leaders."

Jillia did a melodramatic shudder that even Starbuck could admire. In an artistic sense, of course. "You really don't want to see the captain in a righteous snit."

Boah nodded. "And you know how puppies are trained. Rolled up mission reports to the nose hurt."

This time, Starbuck noticed, the grins were uncertain. Even Zac looked unsure. Nervous, the ensigns looked from Apollo to their squadron leaders and back again, waiting for their cue. Apollo had thrown the kids for a loop. Starbuck suspected they'd been treated to the kindly, approachable Apollo on the trip out, the Apollo who'd been the buffer between the ensigns and the remote, impressive and rather frightening Commander sharing their shuttle. They were only now meeting the Strike Captain whose job it was to file off all their rough edges while making sure they didn't get themselves or anyone else killed.

Apollo looked grimly back at them until more than one of them looked away or shuffled their feet. When he nodded, Starbuck could almost feel their relief.

Apollo glanced at the chronometer on his wrist. "I'll leave it to the Commander to give you the death and glory speech at six this evening in the Officer's Mess, when we'll hold a formal reception in your honour. That means, ladies and gentlemen, you'll wear dress blues and bright attentive faces, and make sure you wash behind your ears. In the meantime, I'll hand you over to your squadron leaders who will take you on your orientation tour. No gratuities are necessary, but please pay attention to what they're telling you. That way you might live longer." He looked at them all, his expression sombre, then gave them that bright smile. "And we all want you to live to a ripe old age. Off you go now.”

"Sir!" said Boomer, and saluted.

Starbuck, Jillia and Boah were an instant behind him and after a few microns of confusion and red faced embarrassment, the ensigns all snapped to attention and offered their best salutes.

They were like school kids playing at toy soldiers. Starbuck watched their absurdly young faces, a surge of the usual protectiveness welling up. With the war over, at least he wouldn't have to worry about getting this batch through their 'prentice yahren alive and uninjured. With luck, there would be no more Gileses to glue back together after the war had shaken them to pieces. He wondered what Apollo was thinking as the captain returned the salutes and ordered them all to stand easy. He thought he knew Apollo's mind on one thing, at least. Apollo would be relieved that the war was over before his little brother had to take any active part in it.

Apollo sent them on their way, returning Zac's exuberant grin, and turned to face Starbuck.

"Good speech." Starbuck was sorry to see the grin die. "Did you practice it?"

"You just missed Athena."

"No. No, I didn't. Not by accident, anyway." Starbuck drew in a big silent breath and let it out slowly, letting it calm him. "Can we talk?"

Apollo gave him a long look, his expression unreadable. Starbuck hated that. He hated it when he and Apollo were fighting, of course he did, but at least then there was some emotion behind it all. He didn't like this cold and distant Apollo at all.

After a micron or two, Apollo nodded. "All right." He looked around the flight deck. "Not here. This place is freezing. Let's get through Decon and find somewhere warm."

They weren't on their own in the Decon chamber, otherwise that might have done to give them some privacy. Boomer was taking through his group of three ensigns, including young Zac. At least the kid had the sense not to trade on the relationship: Zac gave his brother a couple of excited looks, but didn't interrupt Boomer's quiet explanatory monologue about the Decon procedures to claim Apollo's attention.

Starbuck watched for a few centons. When Boomer came to a halt and asked if anyone had any questions, he chimed right in. "Oh, me! I do. What in Hades is the Academy feeding them all on these days?"

Each one of the kids choked back a startled giggle. That was pleasing. It was well they saw the master at work early on. Boomer's eye-rolling, though, was getting to be a bad habit and Starbuck would have to speak to him about it later. Starbuck liked his own bad habits; he wasn't so sure about emulators. But best of all, Starbuck would take his oath that Apollo's mouth curved into the briefest of grins.

"I don't know, Starbuck," said Boomer. "Is it important?"

Starbuck let his eyes range up and down the tallest ensign. "I figure they must have loaded it with growth hormones, or something. If these kids get any taller, Captain, you're going to have to get the Vipers stretched."

Apollo glanced at the grinning ensigns. "You'll have noticed that Lieutenant Starbuck thinks that he's funny."

"Thinks?"

"Which, of course, he generally is, but please don't try to emulate him. You're unlikely to pull it off." Apollo gave his brother an especially hard stare and got a grin in return. "I'm going to have to add you to the welcome speech, Starbuck."

"Awful Warning or Shining Example?"

"I'm sure you can guess." Apollo was grinning now, and there was real warmth in his eyes. "Sorry, Boomer. Ignore him."

Boomer gave his little brood of ensigns a slight smile. "What's new there?"

Starbuck managed what he thought was a creditable laugh. When they got out of the chamber, he watched Boomer herd his charges away. Zac looked over his shoulder and gave Apollo a brilliant smile. It was so like Apollo's own that Starbuck's breath caught.

"They're so damned young." He had never been that wet behind the ears and innocent. He had never been innocent.

"They make me feel about ninety. Let's get this over with, Starbuck. Where?"

"There's my storeroom. I do all my important emotional stuff in there."

"That," muttered Apollo, "accounts for a lot."

Starbuck let him get away with it. He had more important things to say than counter every snide remark that Apollo could come up with. The storeroom was empty and Starbuck had long ago learned how to over-ride the door mechanism and lock it from the inside. He did so now, not wanting to be interrupted.

And, of course, now that Apollo was back and he had the privacy he wanted, Starbuck's rehearsed speeches vanished from his mind and tongue. Which was annoying.

"Get it said, Starbuck."

"Fine. Okay." Starbuck took a deep breath. "Okay, I will. It's like this. It's simple. You have every right to say that I can't be with you. I don't like it, but it's your right. I know why you've said it, and I don't agree with you and I don't like it, but I understand it. Your choice. Your right. But you do not have any right to tell me who else I can and can't be with. No right at all. And you absolutely have no right to be mad with me about anyone else."

"She's my sister—"

"Yes, she is. So you have the right to tell me that I can't hurt her, the way you'd tell any other guy that—although, if you want my opinion on that, it's only marginally your business and Athena would be mad as fire about it—but you don't get mad with me for being with her because I'm me. There's a difference." He paused to give Apollo the chance of a comeback, but Apollo's mouth was tightening and Starbuck felt a sudden rush of weariness. He'd been walking a line for a long time, and he was tired. "It isn't fair, Apollo. And I thought better of you than that."

And that got to him. Starbuck knew that it would. Apollo didn't like anyone thinking badly of him. For an entitled rich kid, he was remarkably self-conscious. His face got red.

"It's the control thing, Apollo. You can't control everything. I won't let you control me like that. Not now, not ever. It's not fair, and it's not right, and I've rolled over and played dead on your command long enough. Ends now, Apollo."

Apollo reddened but, interestingly, he didn't make any of the denials that Starbuck had expected. "I didn't mean for it to be like that."

"No."

"And you're right about me making all the decisions and expecting you to fall in line."

Starbuck nodded, surprised that Apollo would acknowledge it.

"I got a talking to when I was at home. My mother says I'm too much like Dad, sometimes, wanting everything my own way. She's right, I think." Apollo heaved a sigh, looked around and went across to the back wall to sit braced with his back against the bulkhead. Starbuck, everything about him beginning to lighten, joined him. "You're right. It wasn't fair of me. I'm sorry about that."

Starbuck shrugged the shoulder nearest Apollo.

"My only excuse is that I—" He stopped, grimaced, and said, his voice hard, "I've been off balance all yahren, Starbuck."

Starbuck snorted out a short, mirthless laugh. "Yeah. Me too."

"You seem to deal with it better." Apollo leaned his head back. He looked tired, fine lines and dark shadows under his eyes. His home leave hadn't been too restful then. "There was no way I was going to take the risk, not with the Regs the way they are and with Dad watching me like a hawk. I didn't know any other way to do it. If I didn't wall myself off, I'd fall, I knew that. But what I didn't have the right to do was ask you to wall yourself off, too." He turned his head suddenly, and Starbuck stared into the green glitter of eyes that were over-bright. "Or assume that you needed to."

Starbuck kept his voice as even as he could. "I've never had much of anything. No family, not many people who stick around. It's a wonder I'm not more grabby than I am." He answered Apollo's nod with a slight grin. "I liked it like that. I liked grabbing at things that didn't last and then moving on, because it's fun and exciting and life's too frackin' short, and the Lords help me, I didn't know any different. I still like that, Apollo, but now it's because the thing I want to grab and keep isn't available." He couldn't look at Apollo any longer. "And is leaving here in a couple of sectons anyway. I needed walls, too. But while your way is solitude, mine's more of those grabby little ladies. I prefer being distracted."

"I was getting used to your distractions."

"You had one yourself, remember? I'm really not like you there. I never asked any of my distractions to marry me."

Apollo winced. "It was a bad idea, but I was desperate. Rosie is wise enough not to be fooled." He sighed. "Athena? Is she a grabby distraction, too?"

"A bit."

There was a long silence before Apollo sighed. "She doesn't like me much. She knows that I want you, so she doesn't trust me very much either. But she's still my sister. Manage it, Starbuck. If you're going to let her down, don't hurt her."

Starbuck nodded. "I was going to cool it anyway. Most of my time in the next couple of sectons is going to be spent with one of my best friends before he leaves the ship for good. That okay?"

Apollo nodded.

They were quiet for a centon or two. Starbuck leaned his head back, rolling it to one side until he was almost touching Apollo's, and let the deep, mostly subliminal hum of the Galactica's engines soothe him. "I don't suppose we could stay in here and never come out?"

"They'd come looking for us."

"Yeah." Starbuck sat up, scrubbed at his face with the heels of his hands. Hell, but he could sleep for a secton. "So, did you get the Hype back?"

"No." Apollo pulled at face at him. "You were right, what you said about careers. They bumped me up to major. I've got a Shield battle group to look after, three Shield ships to command."

Starbuck stared at him. "A promotion?"

Apollo shrugged. He nodded. "Yeah. Not formally until I step off this ship, but yeah."

"We don't have majors."

"Well, I'm not Fleet. And the Shield Regiment doesn't have that 'regiment' bit tacked onto it just because someone thought the two words sounded well together. Shield started as an infantry regiment centuries ago, and infantry does have majors."

Starbuck made a tching noise. "Some people have no shame, confessing to low origins like that." He grinned. "But seriously, that's brilliant news. Congratulations!"

"It would be brilliant if it didn't mean that all I'll be running is training missions. It's not that I want us to be at war, but..."

"Yeah. But."

Apollo looked down at his hands. "I can probably fill in with some work for the Strategy Unit, and I'll give it a yahren. If I don't think I'm doing anything useful at the end of that, then I'll get out."

Starbuck blinked. "That's a bit drastic."

"It's a family tradition that we all serve, Starbuck. But if the need's not there anymore, then I reckon I've done enough. I'll do what I want to do." He grinned slightly. "A wise old man I know reminded me that I'm pretty privileged. I have choices, and I should exercise them."

"Doing what? The history stuff?"

"Maybe. But what I'd like to do is have my own ship, and to do some frontline archaeology. Trace our route back to Kobol and do some star-mapping and exploration, run a few digs when we find something worth it. Never stay anywhere long, just keep moving. I'd like that."

Starbuck turned his head. Apollo was looking ahead, but Starbuck saw that for the first time in a long while his face was relaxed, open; that the fine, tight lines of tension around his mouth and eyes had eased.

Well, he didn't much fancy a career tootling around doing training missions either.

"You'll need a crew."

"Yes. I will." Apollo turned and Starbuck was grieved to see the little lines come back. "Do you want to sign up?"

"Well, there won't be any fraternisation rules, will there?"

Apollo's eyes were bright. "No. There won't."

"Pay?"

"A pittance. You do it for academic glory."

"I'd prefer cash," said Starbuck and smiled at Apollo's amused snort. He was silent for a few centons, leaning his head back against the bulkhead. Beside him Apollo relaxed slowly. "Well. I like the sound of wandering around and exploring stuff and having adventures. That bit sounds exciting. The digging bit sounds like more like hard work than I'm strictly comfortable with."

"It never killed anyone yet."

Starbuck snorted. " I'm gonna have to see the medical studies before I'll take your word for it. It's beside the point, anyway. I have delicate hands and shouldn't ruin them with a shovel. But all in all, it sounds like a reasonable job." He smiled at Apollo's profile. "I'm on – if I can sign up as First Mate."

Apollo tilted his head until it was resting against Starbuck's. He closed his eyes. "The job's yours. Until I get a better applicant, of course."

"In your dreams." Starbuck let it all smooth away, slip into a companiable silence. He only had a couple of sectons of this before Apollo was gone again, and he wasn't going to waste any of it.

Not one micron of it.