AFTERMATH : THE JOURNEY BEGINS

           Hearing the security lock on their quarter's door disengage, Roark looked up from where he sat in the corner of the sofa.  As he was off duty for the rest of the night, he had changed into a silky, sapphire blue sleep shirt, and matching pants.

          His feet were bare, resting on the edge of the cushions, the Book of Kobol open on his knees.  The door slid open to admit his husband just as he closed the book, turned to set it on the end table.  Getting to his feet, he watched as Rodolphus turned, re-secured the door, then turned, his sherry eyes falling on Roark, saw the expression on his face...

          Well, FUCK, he thought, he had already heard.

          As the silence stretched between them, Roark raised his arms to cross them over his chest, a black brow arching.  "Well?'' he finally asked.  "What, my husband, have you to say for yourself?"

           Rodolphus almost sighed at the tone of his voice as he began to cross the room toward him, thinking behind tight shields, 'this could be...' his thought paused, then, 'bad, if he wasn't careful.'  "As the Galactica's new Strike Commander, I did only what I felt needed to be done.  Roark, Lt. Starbuck, and quite a few others have been getting away with far too much, for far too long.  It was time he, and they were brought to heel."

          "You make them sound like dagget's, Rodolphus.  Lt. Starbuck has always been a bit of a rogue, and yes, admittedly he likes his games of chance a little too much.  He also tends to not be nearly as serious about being a warrior.  Still, to bring him up on charges of dereliction of duty?  Was that really necessary?"

          "He had a job to do, Roark, just as we all do.  Nearly three sectars ago, he blew off that job by claiming he was not feeling well enough to take his assigned patrol.  Then, to compound his actions, instead of reporting to Life Center, as he knew he very well should have done, he went to the Officer's Club so he could play a fucking game of Pyramid!  Your uncle Zac was killed because he was on a patrol that --"

          "Uncle Zac wanted to be on that patrol, Rodolphus," Roark said as he looked away from his husband's penetrating gaze, feeling tears building once again at the mention of his beloved uncle.  "He wanted that one chance to fly with his brother," he said quietly.  "I know how he felt as Harry and I wanted that same chance."

          "I know he did, love," he said as he stepped closer, his hand lifting, his thumb running soothingly over his cheek, catching the tears that had fallen, "and I'm quite sure he was very happy he GOT that chance, but darling, the fact remains.  That patrol was not his to fly.  It was Lt. Starbuck's."  Kobol, his husband could be so emotional sometimes.  Not, he thought, as he watched his face, that he would ever change that.

          He loved Roark just as he was, and would not change a single thing about him.  A deep sigh sounded and Roark drew away from him to go to the sideboard.  "I know," he returned, reaching for a glass, then the bottle of Saggitarian brandy.  Pouring himself a measure, he turned back, glass in hand.  "But dereliction of duty?" he sipped, raising his eyes to meet Rodolphus'.  "That's a serious charge, and it will go on his permanent record."

          "As it should, and he wasn't the only warrior I brought charges against, or had put on report for failure of duty, or other offenses'.  Roark," he went to him, took the glass he had only sipped from twice, both times with a grimace, which made him smile.  "Why do you drink it if you have no liking for it?" he asked, taking the glass from him and drinking it.  

          "Come," taking his hand after setting the glass on the sideboard, he pulled him back to the sofa.  He sat, drawing him down beside him.  "Look, some things are going to have to change on the Galactica.  Better discipline will be implemented.  That's part of why Thorin and Dacian decided to go with me as their new Strike Commander.  I don't know any of the warriors...or the viper pilots here, and therefore I can be impartial, not play favorites.  I am many things, Roark, of which you are fully aware.  I'm cold, straightforward, even heartless--" fingers covered his lips, stopping him from saying more.

          "You are, Lt. Colonel Rodolphus Lestrange, only what fate and circumstances have made of you.  Cold..." a smile, "can't argue that, but only when you need to be, the same goes with heartless," he leaned in, brushing his lips to his husband's, "but under all of that, you are a good man, a soldier who does what needs to be done to preserve our way of life...or what is left of it anyway,"

          "And that is what I intend to KEEP doing, no matter how hard it may be.  In looking through many of the files...In watching many of our warriors, studying them not only during duty times but OFF duty times...I could see things were a lot worse than even Adama knew."

          A frown.  "What do you mean?"

          "There was little to no discipline and they were getting away with things that on any other Battlestar would have gotten them into some very serious trouble.  Apollo, for all he was a great pilot, made a very bad Strike Commander.  He went to the Academy with nearly every man that made up the Galactica's squadrons, he was friends with more than half of them.  He let them get away with things he should have had them on report for."

          Again, Roark gave a sigh.  "I know, I've heard Aiden, Alexei, and more than a few other Durins complain about it.  It's true Apollo has been far too lax.  Perhaps if he had not been, and had been more diligent, DeAngelo and his friends would never have gotten as far as they did."

          Rodolphus frowned suddenly.  "I read through the case files on that mess.  I have further recommended that the six of them be sent to the prison barge.  As for Starbuck, he can be the rogue, the gamester, the irresponsible man he wants to be all he wants, just not during duty times.  We are, unfortunately, running for our lives.  We have ships that need to be carefully examined for viability to sustain life for however long this voyage will take, and very soon, as we are both well aware, we will have Cylons on our trail.  We will be needing all the viper pilots we can get our hands on, and we have Cadets to get trained."

          Roark shook his head, heaving yet another sigh.  "Earth."  He got to his feet, suddenly feeling like he needed to move, which he did, straight to the star field window.  "Do you think that it really exists?"