INTRODUCTORY NOTES: Okay, I'm still new to this Netscape e-mail so I apologize for any whacked out formatting. This is basically a draft and at this moment I have NO idea how many parts there will be. The usual copyright stuff applies. Thanks to this and the other BSG list for the opportunity to read other fanfic and to inflict mine on others. Thanks to Robert for posting the "If they die, I die" picture a few weeks ago. Thanks to the cast and crew of the series. Thanks to the SciFi Channel for broadcasting the series just when I needed to reset the rhythm of Starbuck's character. (Monday morning at 5:00 am, what a nice surprise to find "War of the Gods" while flipping channels.) Thanks to John and Nicholas Colicos. (For not killing me.) THE STORY - PART 1: The Battlestar Galactica cruised along the perimeter of the colonial space, sending out regular viper patrols and, in general, maintaining a military presence to discourage the Cylon Empire. A thousand yahrens had induced a certain routine within the Colonial military and even civilian life. Occasionally, a Cylon raiding party would break through the outer defenses or a Colonial warship and squadron would destroy a basestar. The war waxed and waned according to internal politics, technological advances, and available resources, but eventually it had settled into a certain rhythm and humans, being adaptable, had accepted it to a large degree. And with routine came a certain amount of boredom. "What's the status of our patrol," Tigh asked Athena. "Red Squadron is expected to return in 30 centons, Commander." She answered, tracking their progress on her consol. Tigh nodded and returned to Omega's side to check other readouts. With Adama attending to Council duties, Tigh was in command of the Galactica, something he had logged more sectars of time in the last 2 yahrens than even Adama. And as Athena knew, her father's combination of military and civilian duties was hardly an unusual situation. With the exception of an elite force, a great many military personnel regularly rotated between military positions and civilian jobs. Tigh and Omega were ones who had elected to remain on full time military assignments. Rigel spent half a yahren on Caprica co-ordinating emergency medtech units. With her mandatory tour of duty nearing an end, Athena once again contemplated the options before her. Her elder brother, Apollo, had followed in the footsteps of her father and had made the military his primary career. Zac was still too young to make such a decision. She smiled as she thought of her younger brother's excitement to be finally old enough to enter the Academy. It was still new to him and she remembered when she had felt the same. Excited to join the ranks that protected the colonies, to finally undertake and to understand what their father spoke so often about. It was an initiation into adulthood. She knew the novelty would soon wear off and he'd soon be laughing at the naivete of the next yahren's cadets. As she mused, she kept watch on the consol readouts before her, the background murmur of her shipmates, and the chatter of the pilots over the com channel. Her father and his counterparts knew that tedium could be as dangerous as an imperfect aim, a misunderstood order, a garbled communique. The rotation of duties was designed to keep those on watch at their peak mentally. There would be no shame if she decided on such a path, and yet as a member of a prominent military family, she felt that in her case, it would be unacceptable. Although her mother had stayed on Caprica to raise her family during her husband's absences, Athena had always been part of "warrior's way", as some termed it. "Red Squadron, requesting landing clearance." Starbuck's voice over the com channel ended her reveries. She handled the landing procedures as she had done hundreds of times before. "Have you thought about your future?" Athena asked Starbuck as she joined him for his post-patrol ritual. "Not particularly, except that I hope I have one," Starbuck answered, handing her a tankard of ambrosia and settling into the chair next to Athena's. "I mean seriously." "Um...exactly how do you mean future?" Starbuck's blue eyes flickered towards the door. Athena smiled. That was Starbuck, ever wary of being committed to one woman. "You can relax. I don't mean 'our future'. I was just wondering if you had ever thought about what you would do after they kick you out of the pilot's chair." "I don't know." He shrugged. " Train pilots, I guess. I could become one of those old drill officers like Mavers at the Academy." "You'd never be that short-tempered and nasty." "Hey, it was cadets like me that made him that way." "I thought you said it was mandatory for male cadets to sneak into the women's barracks." "Oh, yes, and that stunt I hadn't even considered." He laughed, remembering that evening. Athena also remembered that evening particularly afterward Starbuck and his friends had been caught. The women had been treated to Starbuck trying to explain that he had only been practicing stealth techniques. Mavers had not been amused. "And you haven't changed one bit," Athena smiled. "Should I?" He took a sip of his ambrosia, leaning back. "I feel comfortable with myself right now." "Comfortable enough to settle down?" She arched a brow and tilted her head, deliberately giving him that certain look. "Now, wait just a micron, I'm not that comfortable." He sat up alert, looking for an escape. His glance around the room fell upon the wall chronometer. "Don't you have to shuttle your father back up here?" "By the Lords, I forgot...." * * * Adama hated Council Soirees. Within the High Quorum's reception hall, the councilors and their mates ran a social gauntlet of representatives from colonial governments, cities, companies, and civilian institutions, almost all of whom had their own interests in mind and sought to sway the Council of Twelve to grant them a favor or approve a certain bill. Occasionally a celebrity could be seen within a group lending a certain glamour to the event, and, of course, the news services were present. It was a place to see and be seen. It certainly wasn't a place to consider issues of importance to the well-being of the colonies. It was a frivolous waste of time and resources that could be put to better use elsewhere. He knew it. They all knew it. But the bureauticians insisted on such things. "Adama, stop scowling like that," Ila chided gently, momentarily pausing before the hall's entrance. "Was I?" he growled. "Yes, you were." She straightened his blue cape and flipped one side back over his shoulder to reveal the rather dashing white lining. He patiently endured her ministrations and when she was satisfied, she took his arm again. A signal for him to proceed. He thanked the Lords for bringing Ila to him. As always she handled the others with a quick word here and a smile there, allowing him to merely nod in recognition while catching a few words here and there among the crowd as the leisurely proceeded. Above the din, Adama heard a sudden burst of laughter. Not the polite subdued laughter he generally heard on such occasions, but a merry ripple of genuine enjoyment. He turned looking for the source of the laughter and saw, across the room, the Sagittarian Councilor, Count Baltar, broadly smiling and chatting with a woman wearing the blue uniform of a warrior. "Adama?" Ila tugged at his elbow. Still watching the white-robed figure of Baltar chatting with the warrior, Adama waved her off. Somewhere in the background he heard her apologize for his inattention. Baltar hailed a passing waiter and gallantly offered his companion a glass of ambrosia. She hesitated, but under his urging, she accepted the glass of amber liquid. Although, Adama could neither see her face, only her cascades of dark hair, nor hear her voice, he recognized her movements. "Excuse me," he said to Ila, as he broke from the group and strode across the parquet floor of the hall, winding his way through other councilors and others. As if sensing his onward rush, or perhaps merely hearing the sharp clack of Adama's boots against the polish wood, the warrior turned, confirming Adama's suspicions. His scowl deepened. Athena's face went ashen. She started to speak but fell silent. Her companion stepped forward, clearly puzzled. "Adama, don't you think it's a bit inappropriate to terrorize those under your command?" "I will act as I find necessary," Adama snapped, his gaze still on his daughter. A deep flush came to Athena's cheeks. "It wasn't her fault. I met her on the Quorum grounds outside and I asked her to grant me a few centons of her time." Adama's focus shifted to Baltar. It was unlike the Sagittarian to speak in such a decisive tone; he normally spoke as if life itself constantly amused him. Indeed, Baltar refused to even flinch or waver and met Adama's gaze solidly. "Lieutenant, I believe you have duties elsewhere," Adama directed his words tp Athena. "Yes, fa - Commander," she murmured and escaped. "Adama, why so harsh?" Baltar asked, wistfully watching Athena leave. "Why not let her enjoy herself for a moment?" A slight smile played over his lips as he returned his attention to Adama. "Why deprive me of her charming company?" "She has responsibilities elsewhere." "This micron? Don't you let your warriors have some rest?" "This is not rest." "Oh, come now, Adama. Even if you don't find these functions enjoyable, others do. She didn't look unhappy to me. Well, not until stern Commander appeared..." His dark eyes flickered over to the door she had taken as he sipped his ambrosia. "If it wasn't for the warriors, we wouldn't be having this frivolous affair." "Spare me. We've heard this before. And did it not occur to you that to be able to engage in this human frivolity is what the warriors are fighting for? Hmmm?" "You find this a subject of mockery?" Adama nearly snarled at the very notion. "No. I find it a subject of truth." The weight returned to Baltar's voice. "To be otherwise would make us no different than the Cylon Empire - efficient, disciplined, regulated, conforming. In other words, no frivolity, no creativity, no artistic endeavour, no pleasure. It really is a pity that the colonies have had to deny themselves so much of what makes life meaningful." "My life is meaningful." "I'm sure it is, but not everyone finds meaning as you do. Have you locked youself away in that battlestar for that long to have forgotten?" "No, I'm here, am I not?" "Oh, you're here. But you resent every moment, and you resent anyone else enjoying the respite from the battlefield and the attacks and the alarms." "You're drunk." "A little perhaps, but not enough to overlook the fact that you don't want to acknowledge the validity of my statements. Perhaps you should try it. Remember what it feels like to be human." With his glass, Baltar saluted someone behind Adama. "Ila, welcome to our little party." He gave her a slight bow as she came to Adama's side. "Good evening, Councilor." She nodded. "I'm afraid Adama must leave shortly. Colonel Tigh is expecting him." "Ah, yes, I understand." Baltar gave her most charming smile and another slight bow. "Until the next Council meeting, Adama." He nodded and departed, casually strolling across the room to speak to others. "Thank you," Adama hissed to Ila. "Did you have to be so snappish with Athena?" Ila reproached him gently. "Was it so necessary?" "Ila, you don't understand." "What was there to understand? Did it matter so much if she waited for you here or in the shuttle? You can't keep her under your control forever. Someday she needs to make her own life." PART TWO Adama allowed the cool breeze to calm him as he and Ila strode along the pathways of the Caprican governmental complex. The evening currents rustled through the ornamental foliage that edged the lawns of Colonial embassies, Council offices, staff quarters, and other buildings. In the distance, he could see the lights of private offices in the capital city, and still farther, he could see the twinkling lights of neighboring planets and stars. And among those lights was the _Galactica_. "You shouldn't let Count Baltar's needling get to you," Ila said. "The man is an insufferable - " "He only does it because he knows it upsets you." " - double talking - " "Bureautician." Ila finished for him, as smoothly as her azure gown rippled in the breeze. "I've told you before, dear. Bureauticians use words the way you deploy squadrons." "Why does he have to play games? Wouldn't it be easier to openly state what his position is?" "And reveal his weaknesses?" Ila laughed. "You know very well you wouldn't hand over your battle plan to the Cylons." "I'm not trying to wipe out fellow council members, Ila." "And I doubt Baltar or the others think that, but they do question things like posting warships near Caprica and the inner colonies." "Oh, not that again," Adama groaned. "But do you understand their points of view? The inner colonies demand that they should have a military defense should the enemy forces get that far and the outer colonies insist that they need the extra military power because they are more at risk." "But, Ila, that is the reason the Council of 12 was formed. So the colonies could join forces to provide better protection for all. It became necessary to have a governmental body that had the authority and the power to coordinate resources." "And in doing so each Colony relinquished a portion of its autonomy." "For the common good." "Of course," Ila agreed. They walked in silence for several microns, and Adama realized they were nearing the spacedrome where Athena would be waiting with his shuttle. "Ila, do you have anything to add?" "Should I?" She glanced up at him innocently, and then to her side. Adama followed her gaze to the young guard waiting patiently at the entrance. Adama nodded, and allowed himself to be identified and cleared to pass. * * * "How does a Battlestar commander change a lightbulb?" It was a silly joke and one that cadets learned early on. Still Athena had feigned ignorance of the punchline when the Sagittarian Councilor had posed the question to her. She leaned back in the pilot's seat as she gazed out the window into the night as her thoughts went back to early events. Perhaps it had been the merry sparkle in his dark eyes or his enigmatic smile that had intrigued her. Or perhaps it had simply struck her as rather irreverent given who her father was. It was a joke that her shipmates certainly declined to repeat to her. They had always been all too aware of who her father and brother were. Had the Councilor even known who she was? Given her father's reaction, it was all too clear that Adama had some sort of dislike for the Councilor, but that could be easily explained by some Council disagreement or bickering. Still it had been flattering that he had come to her defense... She shook her head, smiling at her own foolishness. It had probably been nothing more than a few moments of friendly chatter for the Councilor. Athena straightened with a start as she heard the shuttle's door open. Quickly she slipped the headset on and began the procedures to power up the shuttle. Without comment, Adama slid into the co-pilot's seat. Athena continued to busy herself with the shuttle's readouts. "Adama..." Ila's gentle voice prompted. Athena looked up surprised by her mother's presence. "Hello, dear," Ila said to her, and then returned her attention to her husband. Adama shifted in his seat, giving Ila a sidelong glance. "Your mother can be incredibly stubborn," Adama finally relented. "You used to think it was charming." Ila leaned over and kissed his cheek. "All right, I surrender," Adama chuckled. "Athena, I apologize for being snappish with you earlier. I was more upset by your choice of companion than anything." "I understand," Athena demurred. Ila squeezed her shoulder. "How's Starbuck doing?" "Oh, about the same." Athena laughed. "A pity. When he finally makes his decision, he may find that he's too late." * * * "Welcome back, Commander," Tigh said as Adama entered the bridge. "It's good to be back." Adama slipped into his customary position. A quick glance around the room reassured him that all was as he expected. It was comforting to know he could place his entire trust in Tigh. "Trouble with the Council?" Tigh asked, handing Adama a ship status report. "They're getting cocky again. Discussing a Fifth Fleet." "Really? When things had been relatively quiet." "Even talked of having one of ‘their own' as fleet command." "You?" "Unless they propose appointing a career bureautician to the post." Adama looked up from the report to give Tigh a crooked smile. * * * "Hi, Athena." Rigel met her in the grey corridor outside their quarters. That was hardly unusual. What was unusual was Rigel's intent look. "Did something happen while I was out?" She really hoped not. It had been a long day and she really wanted to turn in early. "We were hoping you could tell us." "Tell you what?" Athena asked walking into their quarters. She stopped in her tracks when she saw her bunk. "By the Lords, what's this?" "Singaran roses." Juturna, one of the ship's medtechs, looked up from her book. "My guess is Starbuck is apologizing for something." "But he has nothing to apologize for," Athena protested, examining the flowers more closely. The petals blended from delicate coral edges to vivid scarlet centers, and the scent perfumed the air. As she reached for the card tucked into the bouquet she found her hand trembling. "Well, somebody sent them," Rigel was nearly bouncing on her toes with curiosity. "And it cost the sender a few cubits to get them on the supply shuttle." "I'd say more than a few cubits," Juturna stated. "Which is more than a warjockey would be willing to pay for a simple apology." Rigel countered They waited in silence for Athena to reveal the sender. She hesitated to open the card, almost afraid of what she would find there which puzzled her. Was she fearful of Starbuck finally asking that question? Or fearful of Starbuck not asking that question which everyone, even herself, seemed to expect? "Are you going to stand around all day and keep us in suspense?" Rigel almost pleaded. "No," Athena laughed, unfolding the card. "Well?" "It's not Starbuck." "It isn't?" Juturna sat up on her bunk. "Oh, Athena, I'm so sorry. I know it must be disappointing - " Rigel said. "Who sent them?" Juturna interrupted Rigel. "Omega?" "No. Councilor Baltar." "Is there something you'd like to tell us?" "There's nothing to tell. I just met him today." Athena felt her cheeks flush. "Do you suppose Starbuck would be jealous if he knew?" Rigel mused. "Why would Starbuck be jealous?" Athena insisted. "We're friends, not lovers." "But he might change his mind if he knew he had real competition." "Rigel, stop obsessing about Starbuck," Juturna said. "What does this Councilor want?" "Nothing, really." Athena hesitated as she glanced down at the card. "It was an apology though." "For what? What did he do to cause him to apologize?" "Talked to me within sight of my father." "Maybe you could transfer to another battlestar and get a real social life." "What? And leave you two?" Athena forced herself to answer in a light tone. Inwardly she had been a bit disappointed that the Singaran roses had not been from Starbuck, but she could change him or force him to feel something he didn't. And it had irked her that her father seemed to discourage men from getting to know her, and those that he couldn't order from her presence, he could always hinder by stationing her where they couldn't get to her. The Councilor had asked her to join him for dinner the next time she was on furlough. What harm could come from that? He had seemed quite charming and friendly. And it wouldn't hurt Starbuck to know that he wasn't the only man in the Colonies that found her attractive enough to ask out. PART THREE "Commander, you have a private communique on Alpha channel," Omega said. Adama's brows lifted slightly. It was unusual, but not unusual enough to be alarming. 'I'll take it in my quarters," he said, catching Tigh's attention. With a nod, Tigh slipped into Adama's place on the bridge as the Commander left. In his office, Adama keyed in his security codes and an array of words, figures, and star charts appeared on the screen. His lips tightened as he scanned the information. No doubt the Council of Twelve would be calling an immediate session on receipt of this news. * * * In the lounge, Athena sat down next to Starbuck as they had so many times in the past. As he handed her a tankard of ambrosa, he gave her an uneasy glance. "About the other day...I didn't mean to brush you off." "Rigel told you, didn't she?" "Told me what?" He was the picture of innocence. "About the flowers." "Well..." His innocence turned into a boyish bashfulness. "...she did mention them." "I see." Athena nodded, smiling. "But I really do feel badly about the other day. I mean, we have been friends for a long time and all..." He took a drink, perhaps due to nerves. "It's just that I don't think I know myself. And how can I answer you honestly if I don't even know what to tell myself." "Let's not worry about that now. Perhaps I only asked you because I'm trying to find the answers for myself." "There, you see. We're both confused." Starbuck said. Athena laughed. He did look relieved to find himself safe for the moment. "Where's the deck?" she asked. "Deck?" He looked at her over the rim of his tankard. "Don't tell me you don't have a pyramid deck with you." "Oh, that deck..." As if by magic, he produced the cards and began to shuffle. "Are you that distracted to forget your habitual game," she chided. "I'm flattered." "Just because I can't make up my mind doesn't mean I don't have a certain...uh..." he searched for the proper word "...bond with you. We did go to the Academy together." He dealt the cards with familiar, practiced motions. "But I don't exactly inspire you do to heroic deeds." She gathered her cards and surveyed what she had. "Athena, you know if I treated you like a helpless damsel, you'd kick my -" He bit down upon his fumarello leaving the final word unspoken. He picked up his cards and studied them intent on the immediate business at hand. She laughed remembering those days when she had been insistent on carrying her own weight. "I think I was trying to live up to my father's expectations at the time," she mused. "And now?" He discarded a card and picked up another. "I don't know. " Maybe she needed to look elsewhere to discover the answer. * * * A secton later, the Galactica rendezvoused with a sleek, black destroyer, the Ice Princess, the flagship of Sagittara's defensive fleet. Although of the latest design, it had not been tryly desighned for extensive deep space travel, yet it had been chosen to transport the President of the Council of Twelve to the perimeter of Colonial territory where the Galactica was currently patrolling. Within the Galactica's landing bay, Adama personally awaited the shuttle that would bring his august visitors to the battlestar. The shuttle bearing the imperial crest of Sagittara, a silver bennu bird against the black hull, arrived and when secured, its door slid aside and Adar stepped out. Dressing in long white robes, he appeared to Adama like a prophet from old. Behind Adar followed a man and a woman dressed in the silver trimmed black uniforms of the Sagittaran military, and Issakar, the Councilor of Scorpia, dressed in the familiar white tabard of the High Quorum. "I do apologize for the intrusion, but I felt it would be safer to discuss these matter in person rather than chance a transmission being intercepted," Adar said as Adama neared. "I quite understand." Adama gestured to the door, indicating the way to more comfortable surroundings. The group exited the landing bay into on the many gray corridors of the battlestar. "I'm afraid the situation in the Delphian Empire has gotten worse." Adar shook his head, looking tired and surprisingly fragile to Adama. "As the ranking military officer on the Council, I would like your thoughts on the matter before presenting it to the entire Council." "As you wish. However, would you like to rest before we talk." "Yes, thank you. It has been a rather long journey." "The matter is also rather urgent," Issakar, a tall man with graying blond hair and sharp features, hissed. An intense look of worry furrowed his brows. "Relax, my friend," Adar smiled. " A few moments only." "I could certainly use a drink," Baltar muttered. Startled to hear that particular voice, Adama stopped in his tracks and examined the two Sagittarans more closely. He hadn't been mistaken. One of the Sagittarans was the Count, and along with his medallion of office, he wore a silver sash across a military uniform of his colony. And surprisingly one of the more elite units. "Oh, don't look surprised Adama." Baltar smiled, his black eyes glittering with amusement. "We all had to serve in some capacity. Although, it's mostly ceremonial now, I have as much of a right to wear this uniform as you do that one." "Forgive me, Adama," Adar, ever the diplomat, said smoothly. "I had assumed you knew those accompanying me. You know the Councilors of course. This lady is Commander Bellona of the Ice Princess." "Commander," Adama nodded to her. "I'm pleased to finally meet you, Commander Adama." She stepped forward with an assured grace. She seemed almost too young for her rank yet her appearance, pale blonde hair and cold blue eyes, seemed to personify her ship. "Now that we all know each other..." Issakar prompted. "Yes, yes, let us continue." Adama muttered, resuming their travel down the corridors. Inwardly he berated himself for having overlooked the Sagittarans. It could be simply nothing more than his concern with the situation and Adar's apparent state of health. However, he had to admit that Baltar's amusement at his lapse had been galling. * * * "The Cylons have made significant inroads into the Kryllian system." Standing, Bellona pointed to a quadrant on the star chart set up in the Galactica's conference room. The others were seated around one end of the table with several drinks before them. "Should they succeed in taking Molukay, the Delphian Empire would be seriously compromised." "We all know this," Issakar snapped. "Why the review?" "So that we all may know the details," Baltar answered, the bemused lilt in his voice quite evident. "As demonstrated earlier, if we assume, someone may overlook a few things." His dark eyes flickered towards Adama, over the rim of his chalice as he took a sip. Adama remained silent trying to ignore the remark. How could Ila put up with such insolence? "While I understand your concern for Scorpia," Adar said calmly, "we need to consider possible scenarios." "Should Molukay fall under Cylon control, Gamoray will surely follow," Issakar stated. "It just isn't giving the Cylons a clear path to Scorpia-and the rest of the colonies-- it's losing the fuel that we trade for." "That a number of colonies trade for," Baltar echoed. Bellona continued as if uninterrupted: "The course of action that a number of colonies have proposed is the formation of a Fifth Fleet that would assist the Delphians at Molukay." "The Colonial military is still rebuilding after the Fourth Fleet," Adama spoke up. "Even though it achieved its objective, there were significant losses of ships and warriors. Should the proposed Fifth Fleet suffer similar losses, it would leave our forces vulnerable." "I was hoping to hear otherwise." Adar sighed heavily. "The Fourth Fleet was solely a Colonial operation," Bellona said. "The Fifth Fleet would have assistance and support from the Delphians." "Have you talked to the Delphians?" Adama asked. "Not yet," Baltar answered. "But given the circumstances, they should welcome our assistance to their plight with open arms." He demonstrated with a flourish and a smile. Adama started to retort, and then caught himself. "Just why are you here?" "If Scorpia falls, then Sagittara falls. It that simple." Baltar's voice lowered and he leaned slightly across the table towards Adama. "Sagittara isn't a cultural and commercial center of the Colonies because we've had the money to spare for such things." "Gentlemen," Adar interceded, his tone weary, "this isn't the time nor the place for squabbles." "Perhaps it is," Issakar disagreed. "Should Molukay and Gamoray be seized by the Cylons, would Caprica, Aquara, and Aries be willing to aid Scorpia? If Scorpia came under attack, would the inner colonies offer assistance? Take in refugees?" "Of course Caprica would. Our strength is together," Adama stated. "I wonder if the Caprican people would be as generous." Baltar steepled his hands under his chin. "Or would they tire of their new neighbors, as the Gemonese did with the Otori?" "I suspect at that point Caprica would be too busy fighting the Cylons themselves." "Touche," Baltar laughed. "You're learning. Give my complements to the lovely Ila." Adama's was speechless, surprised by Baltar mercurial shifts in mood and temperament. Just as quickly he returned to the business at hand. "Now, what other options are there? Is there at least time according to the simulations for a defensive system to be set up?" "Similar to the one at Sagittara. Unlikely," Bellona replied. To Adama their exchange seemed scripted, too set up. Why hadn't Adar taken the initiative? He glanced at Adar who seemed extremely tired and almost willing to abdicate his power to those who desired it. "There are a number of smaller planets and moons where outposts could be established." "That would only buy time against an invasion force," Adama said. "Perhaps several battlestars then?" Issakar suggested. "Possibly. The Cylons haven't really understood anything except force. They have never responded to our communiques, although our intelligence is of the opinion that they can understand them." "Perhaps they can decode the words, even mimic them back in an order they perceive as correct, but don't understand the intent or meaning within them," Baltar mused. "Are you saying it might be possible to talk with them?" Adar brightened up, suddenly finding a idea that could provide a solution. "I don't know," Baltar shrugged. "Only that it has never been tried all these yahrens." "I don't think we've reached that point," Adama said. This avenue felt wrong to him. "I think this merit further consideration," Adar countered, finally taking the initiative. "I would like to see what attempts have been made in the past." He turned towards Adama. "I would also like to see the simulations done, summaries of the Fourth Fleet's action, and the current status of the Colonial fleets."