Battlestar Galactica: Distant Memories

    The telecom chime next to his bunk was always the first
sound Cain heard each morning, when it was time for him to
begin a new daily cycle.    Always at precisely 0540
according to Colonial Military Time, not a centon sooner or
later.     That would always give him the twenty centons he
routinely needed to wash himself in his private turbowash (a
luxury aboard a battlestar granted only to commanders),
dress and be on the Pegasus bridge by 0600.    And from
there, he would plot the venerable battlestar's next move.

    As he acknowledged Colonel Tolen's telecom chime, he
swung his legs out of his bunk, rubbed the stiffness in the
back of his neck, and as his eyes wandered about the
interior of his quarters, he suddenly caught sight of the
digital chronometer on the wall.     One that not only
accurately told him the time of the cycle, but also flashed
the readout of what date it was.     As his eyes fell upon
the device, he saw that the readout had just changed from
the time to the date.

    And then, he suddenly froze in his position as he saw
what the date was.

    DAY 238.    The 238th day in the standard Colonial
yahren.

    "My God," he whispered.    "How could I have lost
track?"

    For everyone else aboard the Pegasus, the 238th day of
the yahren held little meaning.   No one in the crew had
been born on that day, so it would not be the occasion for a
Natal Day celebration.      Nor was it remotely close to any
of the days of celebration and remembrance in the
traditional Colonial calendar, or even to any of the dates
deemed significant in traditional Colonial religion.

    But for Commander Cain, today was a day that did have
significance.     A day that he had always found time to
remember for so many yahrens because for him, the 238th day
of the yahren always held special meaning for him.


    Slowly, he made his way over to his desk, and gently sat
down in his chair.    And then, with some hesitation, he
turned on the switch that would activate the holograms.
Messages sent to him that he'd kept stored in his data base,
because they gave him a permanent visual link to the people
who'd sent them.    People he was now parted from, and in
all likelihood irrevocably.

    He glanced down at the monitor, and frowned as he
realized he'd forgotten the right sequence for the
holograms.    He would have to take a guess on which one was
the right one, because it had been so long since he'd last
looked at the one he was looking for.
He pressed the buttons and an instant later, the face of a
beautiful woman with an impish smile formed.

     "I'll never forget you, you old war daggit.    Hurry
back."

    "Frack," Cain clenched his teeth.     On this of all
days, the last thing he wanted to see was Cassiopeia's
image.     Not that he'd lost sight of the special place she
would always hold in his heart, but because it was so
inappropriate.    He looked back down at the monitor and
pressed another set of digits, and waited for the next image
to come up, hoping it would be the right one.

    The next image came up.   The smiling, adoring
expression of his daughter.

    "Happy Birthday, Father.    I love you."

    Cain allowed himself a half-smile.      Sheba had sent
that to him when she was a senior at the Academy, and he'd
gone off on his latest routine patrol with the Fifth
Fleet.     To Cain, that greeting was the last thing that
captured the innocent quality of his daughter as a child.
When he'd returned, and she was an Academy graduate, the
child was gone, and the young woman with the tough-as-nails
determination to duplicate his greatness was all there was
now.

    But even though seeing Sheba's greeting could produce a
warm feeling in him, it still wasn't what he was looking
for.     He looked back down, and realized that the third
set of digits had to be it, and he pressed them.

    This time, the face that formed was a face nearly
identical to Sheba's, except for the eyes.  The resemblance
was so great, and so powerful, that Cain could understand
why he'd never been able to lean on his daughter for support
during those terrible, difficult, times for him.      The
very sight of Sheba could only make him think sadly of all
the many yahrens of waste, and all the yahrens of guilt he
carried in his heart.

    "Goodbye, Cain," there was a faint, pleading edge in the
soft voice that belonged to a woman named Bethany.    "I'll
be thinking of you every night.....like I always do."

    He pressed the button that would freeze the image,
allowing him to look at her face and study it.

    My God, he thought with horror.   How could I have
missed it?     The sad loneliness she had to be feeling
those last yahrens as the furlons became shorter, and the
time we spent together was even less than it had ever
been.      And the fact that Sheba wasn't going to be around
for her any longer, and was going to follow in my
footsteps.     God, what kind of torture did I put her
through those last yahrens?

    As Cain reached down to press the button that would let
the hologram message continue, he found that his hand was
shaking.

    "And Cain," Bethany went on, her voice almost quivering
with longing, "I....hope you know that.....being your wife
all these yahrens, has been the greatest joy of my life.
More meaningful than any award I ever received.     And....I
love you with all my heart.    Always."

    And then, the message ended.     And Commander Cain, the
Juggernaut who'd stood unflinching in the face of battle for
so many yahrens, lowered his head and cried.

    So lost was he in his sense of guilt and grief, that he
didn't hear the telecom on his desk chiming for what might
have been centons.     When he finally noticed it, he
abruptly snapped himself back to attention and picked it.

    "Yes?" he tried to put all of the Juggernaut in his
voice, but he knew he'd fallen short, just a bit.

    "Commander, it's past 0600----," Colonel Tolen sounded
slightly concerned.

    "Yes, yes, I'm sorry.   I'll be down in about fifteen
centons, I had to attend to some....business."

    He then hung up the telecom without waiting for a
response from his executive officer.   And then, he let out
a long, slow exhale, to try and collect himself.    When
he'd done that, he found that he couldn't avoid the
temptation to play back the hologram again.     Listening to
the voice of his wife in the last message he'd ever received
from her.    The last image of her that he'd ever seen
alive.

    "Bethany," Cain whispered, "Forgive me.   By all the
Lords of Kobol, forgive me for not being there.    You were
always the one I ended up hurting most."

    At that moment, the only things Cain could think of was
how many times he had never been there for her, and how he
had done her so many injustices.   How his obsessive lust
for battle had kept him away from home for more than two-
thirds the length of their thirty yahren marriage, and how
he'd missed all the important things in her life.     He
hadn't been there when Bethany went through a difficult
pregnancy that resulted in her being unable to have children
again after Sheba was born.    He hadn't been there to share
in any of her triumphs as one of the finest, no damn it, he
thought *the* finest stage actresses in the history of
Caprican theater.     Never being there for any of the
opening nights, or the awards ceremonies that had allowed
her to enjoy fame and glory of her own, independent of her
identity as Commander Cain's wife.

    And the cruelest cut of all.   He hadn't been there when
she needed him most.  When she was suddenly stricken with an
incurable disease called Gamma Syndrome, that resulted in
horrible suffering for more than a sectan, with steady
deterioration of the brain, producing wild, feverish
delirium before the release of death finally came.     He
had been on deep patrol with the Pegasus at the time, far
removed from an outpost where a message could have been
relayed to him.     By the time he'd received the news that
his wife was dying, he'd frantically tried to return in
time, only to arrive eighteen centars after she'd slipped
away for good.    Her last words, the delirious cries of
pleading and longing for her husband to take her hand and
talk to her, and give her some support and relief at that
terrible instant.

     And the more he thought about it, the more he could
understand why Sheba had initially hated Cassiopeia so
much.   After all the yahrens of not showing enough
attention to his wife, Cain had scarcely wept more than two
sectars for her when he suddenly found relief in the arms of
a socialator.    Though he never would have put Cassiopeia
in the same category as all the socialators he'd known in
his younger days, he could now see why it had seemed so
selfish of him to seek someone like Cassiopeia out.   Even
though the deeper reason for why he'd turned to someone like
Cassiopeia had been his inability to confront the guilt by
leaning on his daughter, who ultimately had too much of her
mother in her to let him do that and not feel the guilt only
grow worse.
    The end result had been an ugly situation with Sheba and
Cassiopeia that he had failed to take action on, to try and
put an end to.     All part of his desire to avoid
confronting the painful realites of what troubled him deep
inside.     And Cassiopeia had also sensed that he'd not
been able to come to terms properly with his wife's death,
which had prevented their relationship from going further
than it had gone.

    Even though he had seen things mercifully resolved
between Sheba and Cassiopeia before he had been parted from
them nine sectars ago, Cain knew he still hadn't settled all
of the terrible matters in his heart that troubled him
still.    Especially the way he had left things so
unfinished with Bethany.    But unlike the situation with
Sheba and Cassiopeia, he knew there was no hope ever of
seeing those matters resolved.     Bethany was gone forever,
without any chance for him to have made the amends he knew
he should have made with her.

    And on this, the anniversary of the day he had met his
wife, and on a day when he had forgotten it was approaching,
he could only feel that sensation of guilt and shame he
carried inside him open up anew.

    As he finally headed for the turbowash, he cast another
glance at the calendar and let out a said sigh.

    "The 238th day," he said aloud.    "Oh God, I wish it
was thirty-five yahrens ago."
    He stepped into the turbowash and as he felt the
soothing jets of hot water hit his body, his mind was far
away from the responsibilities he and the crew of the
Pegasus were facing that day.    Instead, he found himself
closing his eyes,  trying to summon a picture of what it had
been like back then.   He was five yahrens out of the
Academy, and as a lieutenant had already caught everyone's
attention as the finest young warrior of his generation.....


     "Lieutenant Cain, reporting sir!"

    "At ease,"  there was an edge of distaste in the voice
of Commander Summner, the Pegasus'  commanding officer for
more than thirty-five yahrens, as he looked at the rigid,
attentive form of the young warrior who had distinguished
himself so many times since he'd been assigned to the
venerable battlestar,  four yahrens earlier, after a tour of
duty on the Cerberus.   In that time, Summner had come to
admire Cain as the best warrior he'd ever seen in more than
sixty yahrens of active duty in the military, but on this
occasion, he was anything but pleased.

    "Lieutenant," the commander rose from his chair, "Do you
know why I summoned you?"

    "No sir," Cain remained at attention.  Although he had a
brash streak within him when it came to his assessment of
superior officers that he held a dislike for,  Summner was a
definite exception.   One of the reasons why he'd stayed
with the Pegasus  was because he admired Summner's tenacity
for battle, and disdain for following the letter of tactical
warfare guides.  Unlike other commanders he knew, Summner
just allowed a warrior's instincts to carry the day to
victory, and the end results always bore that judgment out,
as far as Cain was concerned.  Because of that, Cain
literally idolized his commander and loved him like a
father.

    "You ought to know why," Summner looked him in the eye,
"Your squadron is scheduled for a six sectar furlon.   But
according to the reports I'm getting from Captain Janos and
Colonel Arius, you plan on staying with the Pegasus for the
next combat tour."

    "That's true, sir."

    The Pegasus commander shook his head, "Now why in the
name of Hades after more than three yahrens of continuous
combat duty, with only short liberties amounting to one
sectar in all that time, would you want to stay aboard for
another combat tour?"

     "A practical reason, sir.    I've been studying the
situation in the Tarsus Nebulae, which you indicated is
where our next assignment will be."

     "Yes, I can just imagine you spent the whole last
sectan reading everything about the Tarsus Nebulae, and all
the intelligence reports on Cylon strength in that area."
Summner's voice had an edge of sarcasm.   "Well, Cain, you
can forget it, because you're not going on this combat tour,
and that decision of mine is irrevocable."
    "But sir!"  Cain protested, "I----,"

    "Don't speak, unless I grant you permission!" the
Commander interrupted sharply.   "Now listen to me,
Lieutenant, and listen good!      According to regulations,
when one squadron has been on continuous duty for more than
two yahrens, that means they *must* take an extended furlon
of six sectars and rotate with another squadron that has
also been on similar furlon.    Your squadron was due for
that six sectars ago, but because of the problems we
encountered in the Antiochean Cluster, I went against the
rules and decided your group needed to stay because it was
more up to the combat challenge.    But this time, I'm not
going to push you, or your group any further.     Silver
Spar Squadron is taking a six sectar furlon, and Green
Squadron is returning for this combat engagement."

    "Sir, I understand the need for the rest of the men in
Silver Spar to take their extended furlon, but-,"

    "Lieutenant, I told you not to speak!" Summner's voice
grew more harsh.   "When Silver Spar takes a furlon, that
means all of you, not just the ones deemed less important in
your eyes.    Tomorrow morning, you and your men are going
home, and that is final."

    Cain stiffened slightly in disappointment.

    "Request permission to speak, sir?" he didn't conceal
the hurt he felt.

    "Granted," Summner leaned back and relaxed.

    "Sir," the young lieutenant kept his tone respectful, "I
appreciate your perspective, but I see little practical
value in my taking such an extended absence.     If it's
possible, could I rejoin the Pegasus after a shorter
duration----."

    "No," Summner cut him off.   "Since we'll be out of
range of the Colonies by then, there is no way of
accomodating you.     You ought to know better than to ask a
foolish question like that, Lieutenant."

    Cain shook his head in frustration, "Whose idea was it
that such a long furlon was needed for anyone?     Hades
Hole, six sectars is long enough for one's skills to grow
rusty so that by the time he returns, he's totally off
kilter when it comes to doing the job right!"

    "A valid point, Lieutenant, but what you leave out is
the fact that a long furlon under the rotation system, is
what's needed to keep morale high in a squadron that spends
so much extended time away from home.      The last two
sectans before you return to duty, you'll be taking
refresher courses out of District Headquarters on your
particular home colony, and you'll need to make a once a
sectar check-in in the earlier periods, but giving the
warriors free rein to do as they please for the bulk of that
time has never hurt warrior efficiency in all the yahrens
I've been in the service.   It's a good system, and that
means even warriors who think themself to be indispensable
should partake in it as well."

    Cain again shook his head, "One night of liberty in a
spaceport I can handle.   A six sectar furlon is another
matter.     I don't have any family to visit.    How do I
keep myself occupied without going mad?"

    "Try to enjoy the things in life that matter more than
being a combat flyer," Summner said, "There's a lot of stuff
going on in Caprica City .  Take your girlfriend out and
have some fun."

    The young lieutenant glanced oddly at him, "Sir, do you
honestly think I have a girl waiting at home for me, in
light of what I do during liberties in a spaceport?"

    "Yes, yes, I'm sorry I said that.     In that case,
Lieutenant, do the honorable thing and find a steady girl
while you're home.    The last thing I'd want to know is
that you spent six sectars doing the kind of things you do
on one-night liberties."

    "That's precisely my point, sir," Cain said, "That's why
I'm not cut out to have such an extended leave.     Liberty
breaks are great as a safety valve for a warrior, but they
should come only in short intervals, spaced widely
apart.      Back home, I won't have a disciplined routine to
keep me out of trouble."

    "Well, consider this a new experience in military
discipline for you, Cain," Summner folded his arms, "You're
going to learn for yourself how a warrior handles a long
period of idleness, and learns to develop an orderly routine
on his own.    That's another reason why these long furlons
are thought of highly, because they make a warrior think
more on his feet when he doesn't have a hovering presence of
superiors constantly about him."

    Summer paused for effect and then went on, "And there's
another reason why I want you to take this now, Cain.    No
matter how good I think you are, if you didn't get away for
an extended period, you'd burn yourself out eventually, even
if you did get a night's liberty somewhere.   And if that
were to happen to my best warrior in a critical mission, the
results would be disastrous."

    Cain lowered his head slightly, which caused Summner to
get to his feet, come over to him and place a hand on his
shoulder.

    "Listen Cain," a paternal edge entered his voice, "I
think the universe of your abilities.  I really think you
have a chance to keep rising through the ranks so fast, that
you could end up with a command of your own in literally no
time at all.   You might even be the one who ends up taking
over this old girl when I finally retire."

    The young lieutenant's head perked up slightly.

    "But take it from someone older and wiser than you.
If none of us took the time to relax and get away from the
war for a while, we'd all be burnt out automatons sooner or
later.   The Cylons would be able to march right through
without a fight until they reached the gates of the Caprican
Presidium.   By taking this furlon, you'll be making
yourself a better combat tactician in the long-run."

    Cain smiled slightly and seemed more at ease, "I guess
when it's put to me in those terms, how could I possibly
refuse?"

    "Good," the commander patted him on the back, "Now pack
your bag and get on the Caprica Skybus as soon as it
rendezvouses with us in two centars.   Because if you're
still here, you won't spend the next six sectars flying a
viper, it'll be turboflush cleaning detail the whole time."

************************************************************
********************************************

    Several centars later, Cain was sitting in a cramped
skybus bound for the Caprica City aerodrome.  The Pegasus
was the last of five battlestars that the passenger
transport had picked up Caprican warriors from, and as a
result, the young lieutenant found himself hoping that the
trip would be over soon.  The deafening whoops of anxious
warriors waiting to savor a six sectar furlon was not the
kind of atmosphere he liked.

    "Cain?" he heard a voice call out above the raucous din.

    Cain craned his head toward the other side of the skybus
and was pleasantly surprised to see an old, familiar face.

    "Adama!" Cain exclaimed, "What are you doing on this
rickety spacetrap?"

    The dark-haired lieutenant who had attended the Academy
with Cain, served with him on the Cerberus and become one of
his closer friends, eased himself out of his seat, toward
where Cain was seated.   After a centon's delay in
convincing the warrior next to Cain to change seats, Adama
settled down next to his old friend and clapped his hand on
Cain's shoulder.

    "It's so good to see you," Adama said, "How long has it
been?  Four yahrens?"

    "I think so," Cain nodded and smiled, "Not since before
I was assigned to the Pegasus."

    "And I've heard all about your exploits," Adama smiled
back, "Soldier's Review did some very interesting profiles
of you after your little triumph at the Battle of Tirania
became known.  You're already a hero of the first order on
Caprica."

    "Well, I'd like to be modest and say that the Review
exaggerated things about my ability in the interests of
hype, but I'd be lying if I said they did."

    "You haven't changed a bit," Adama gave him a fraternal
tap, "Still the same proud, ego-centric Juggernaut who put
all of his Academy classmates to shame."

    "And doing the same thing on the Pegasus," Cain said,
"Right now, I'm only deputy leader of our Silver Spar group,
but it's only a matter of time before Summner gives me a
squadron command of my own.   Anyway, what about you?  Still
serving on the Cerberus with old Odysseus?"

    "Not anymore," Adama said, "I was transferred to the
Rycon a yahren ago."

    "The Rycon?" Cain snorted in disgust, "You mean you have
to suffer working for that snitrod Kronus?"

    Adama hesitated for an instant before replying.  Cain
had been through an unpleasant experience with Commander
Kronus while he was still an Academy cadet, and he'd never
forgotten how it resulted in Cain getting suspended for two
semesters from the Academy, which had delayed his commission
and formally placed him as junior to Adama and all others of
equal rank to him.

    "Kronus isn't the easiest person to work for," Adama
chose his words carefully, "But I'm getting some good points
on the administrative side of command responsibilities from
him.  As a matter of fact, as soon as I'm back from my
furlon, he plans on promoting me to captain and making me
his chief aide."

    "I can't say I envy you," Cain said, "But then again,
you always seemed to have a bigger interest in things other
than combat flying.   Becoming a commander's chief aide is
more the mark of someone who wants to be a politician some
day."
    "I prefer to think that my interests in politics and
combat tactics is equal," Adama said, "It might come in
handy in the long-term."

    "You still have dreams of being on the Council some
day?" Cain looked at him wryly, "Good luck with it.  I'll
just settle for a command of my own and leave politics to
the lesser lights of humanity.   Present company excepted of
course."

    "Of course," Adama returned it.

    "So you're on your way back to Caprica, too."

    "Yes," the black-haired warrior settled back in his
chair, "For a long overdue reunion with my wife."

    Cain raised an eyebrow, "When did you become sealed?"

    "Two and a half yahrens, ago.    I tried sending you an
invitation to the wedding, but the Pegasus was well beyond
range at the time to receive personal messages for anyone
below the rank of Colonel."

    "Too bad," Cain shook his head, "I would have loved to
have given you a toast at your send-off.     Anyway, belated
congratulations to you, and is the lucky woman anyone I
know?"

    "I doubt you know her.   Her name's Ila.   She's a drama
and music instructor at the Caprican Fine Arts Institute."

    The brown-haired lieutenant nodded, "When it comes to
high culture, I plead guilty to being a fundamental
illiterate.  But I'm sure she's a fine woman, if she was
able to snare you."

    "She is," Adama nodded, "As a matter of fact Cain, why
don't you get a chance to meet her and have dinner at our
apartment tonight?  If you don't have any other plans, I
know she'd love meeting you."

    "Thanks Adama, I appreciate that," Cain said, "I don't
have a single thing planned for my furlon, except maybe
seeing if I can use the Academy war games simulator, after I
pay a visit to the Red Light District."

    "Always thinking of combat tactics and liberty port
indulgences," Adama chuckled, "Cain, I think by the time Ila
and I get through with you, you're going to learn what it
means to really have fun on a furlon."


    They had arrived at the Caprica City spacedrome, and
after Adama had shared a tender moment of reunion with his
wife, Cain found himself introduced to Ila.   She was a
vivaciously attractive blonde woman, the same age as Adama
and six inches shorter than his imposing six foot height.
Instantly, Cain could see a woman of great dignity and
nobility, totally unlike any of the women he was used to
spending lonely nights with in various liberty ports
throughout the nearby star systems that the Pegasus would
occasionally put into, in between assignments.   Ila was the
kind of woman totally unapproachable from his standpoint.

    As Adama had predicted, Ila was all too happy to welcome
Cain into their fashionable downtown Caprica City apartment
for dinner.  When the two warriors arrived, they found that
Ila had already seen to it that a sumptuous feast of the
finest Colonial delicacies was waiting for them.  Ila had
anticipated that after more than a yahren of battlestar
cuisine, her husband would be prepared to gorge himself, and
because of that, there was more than enough to go around
despite Cain's unanticipated presence.

    For a centar, the two warriors enjoyed rare roasted
Caprican meat, garnished with crisply cooked Piscean
vegetables and dominated most of the conversation among
themselves, trading stories about the battles they'd been
through.

    Finally, Adama's sense of dignity got the better of him
and he cast an embarrassed glance at his wife, "Ila, I'm
sorry.  This must be boring you stiff."

    "Not at all," his wife had her hands folded under her
chin and smiled, "It's a lot more fascinating than how the
battles get reported on the BNC."

    "Your husband's right," Cain said, noting once again
that such a thought about lack of sensitivity never would
have occurred to him first, "I haven't learned enough about
what you do, Ila.   Adama tells me that you're involved in
the arts?"

    "Yes," Ila nodded and relaxed back in her chair, as she
wondered how long she could possibly hold the attention of a
man like Cain on a subject like this, "Professor of Drama
and Music at the Caprican Fine Arts Institute.  I try to
give encouragement to aspiring composers and playwrights."

    "Drama *and* Music?" Cain raised an eyebrow, "Sounds
like you have to be exceptional to specialize in both
fields?"

    "Oh, not really," she said disarmingly, "If a warrior
can be both a pilot and a command tactician, some of us can
also develop an expertise in both Drama and Music.   The two
fields are more closely related than most people think."

    "I see.   Do you just teach, or have you done any
writing yourself?"

    "A little, but nothing significant.    I've had one play
of my own performed in those little regional theaters during
the warm season, but nothing good enough to get the
attention of a high-level backer like Sire Uri."

    "Uri?" Cain rubbed his chin, "Isn't he the one who
financed all the art galleries and theaters that have opened
in the last ten yahrens?"

    "The same," Ila nodded, "You know him?"

    "Only the name," Cain admitted, "Not that I'm a great
patron of the arts, but it's difficult to walk through
downtwon Caprica Center without seeing his name plastered
over all the buildings in the entertainment district.
Always struck me as a bit egocentric for someone who doesn't
do any performing, composing or writing himself."

    "Possibly," Ila nodded, "He's waged a pretty successful
campaign with the press to get all the credit for the so-
called Caprican Renaissance that they say we're going
through now.  And to be fair, he has done a lot with his
philanthropy, but some of his projects leave a lot to be
desired.  Like the play I have to go to tomorrow night."

     "Let me guess," Adama said, "A personal project of some
protege of his, and starring a young woman of limited acting
ability, whom Uri admires for reasons other than her lack of
performing skills."

    "You're so close to being perfect," his wife said, "This
is the comeback attempt of a fallen star in Caprican
playwriting circles.   Galen.   Had some major successes
twenty yahrens ago, but that was during the pre-Renaissance
period when there were no other playwrights comparable to
the level of talent we have today.   Uri decided to give him
a try, but only because Galen is so desperate for another
crack at the big-time that he accepted the one condition
that no other playwright would ever agree to."

    "Something tells me this is where the young woman comes
in," her husband smiled wryly.

    "Indubitably.  Uri's has a young protege if you will, by
the name of Danela.     A very famous face when it comes to
advertisments in vidcom programming, but someone who has yet
to do legitimate acting of any kind.    He's been wanting to
have a playwright find a leading part for her, and Galen is
so desperate for Uri's underwriting, that he agreed."

    Adama shook his head, "And Siress Uri had no say in the
matter?"

    "The Uri marriage became one of formal convenience some
time ago.     They'll never have their seals dissolved,
because his wife loves the prestige of the Uri name, which
helps her in social circles.     But the two of them never
spend any time with each other anymore."

    "I'm confused," Cain said, "How is it that Uri's wife
has the same name?"

    "Uri's wife is of Leonine background.    In their
tradition, the wife adopts the name of her husband if she is
granted a formal title of Siress."

    "I see," Cain nodded, "Getting back to the play, why do
you have to go see it?"

    Ila smiled, "Professional survival.  Uri also is the
Institute's leading benefactor, and those of us who have not
yet received tenure in our teaching positions can ill-afford
rubbing him the wrong way.  He carries too much clout with
the Headmaster."

    "Kind of like some battlestar commanders I know," Cain
shot a wry glance at Adama, who smiled back in understanding
at his friend's reference to Commander Kronus.

    "The only thing I feel bad about, is what might happen
to a good friend of mine," Ila went on, "This is a play
where two women have the leading parts.    One for Danela,
and the other for my friend.   It's her first real break,
and she earned it.  But if this play is destined to be the
critical flop that I'm sure it will be, it could ruin her
career before it has a chance to get started."

    "Your old primary-school chum, Bethany?" Adama smiled.

    "Yes," Ila sighed with regret, "My old partner from
primary-school pageants.  Working next to her convinced me
that any future I had in the arts had to be behind the
scenes.  For five yahrens, she's been working in those
second-rate regional theaters and this is the first Caprica
City production she's been in."

    "If the critics are as intelligent as they presume to
be," Adama said, "the shortcomings in the play won't blind
them to her brilliance.    If she's as good as she's been in
all the other performances I've seen her in, they'll notice
it."

    "I hope so," Ila sighed, "I hope so."

    "You seem more nervous about it than she must be," her
husband said, "I'll go with you tomorrow to give you some
moral support."

    "Thanks," his wife said with gratitude and then looked
at Cain, "You're welcome to join us too, Cain, but I'm sure
you've got other plans."

    "Actually I don't," the brown-haired lieutenant said,
"And as anxious as I am to see the Commandant about using
the Academy War Games Simulator, your kind hospitality
tonight with this magnificent dinner makes it impossible for
me to refuse your invitation."

    "It'll be a formal affair," Ila said, somewhat
surprised, "All warriors have to wear dress uniforms."

    "My favorite kind," Cain settled back in his chair and
smiled, "It'll give me a chance to show off all my
decorations to the public for the first time."


    True to his word, Cain showed up at Adama's apartment
the next night, looking resplendent in the tan dress uniform
and matching cape.  Even though Adama was wearing an
identical dress uniform,  the black-haired lieutenant knew
right away that his friend cut a more dashing figure,
especially with the three levels of campaign ribbons across
the left side of his chest and the four distinguished
service medals and ribbons neatly aligned in the row above.
By contrast, Adama had only one row of ribbons on his
uniform, and one distinguished service ribbon.

    Right away, Adama found himself thinking back to his
Academy days with Cain, and how his friend's evenings
invariably ended in one of two ways.  Either hunched over
the War Games Simulator scoring a major victory, or on the
arm of a young woman.   He suspected that his friend was
half-hoping for the latter result to happen on this
occasion, especially since the entertainment district was
often a haven for the kind of woman Cain had little trouble
conquering.

    As they rode in their hired skylimousine to the opulent
edifice that housed the Caprican National Theater, Adama
found his suspicions confirmed when Cain leaned forward in
his seat and said, "By the way Adama, when this thing is
over, I'll take an airtaxi myself back to my apartment.  I
plan on stopping by some old Academy haunts of mine that
aren't too far from the theater."

    "I know what you mean," Adama smiled thinly, as he
mentally recited the names of all the bars and chanceries
that comprised the so-called Red Light section of the
Entertainment District that he'd always known Cain to
frequent during their student days.     For Cain, such
places were the kind of havens a warrior needed to frequent
to let off steam for brief periods of respite during a
combat tour.     For Adama, such places were seedbeds of
conduct he personally considered immoral, but that was
something he never tried to press strongly on Cain.    He
knew that Cain was a man with few religious instincts, and
not likely to be swayed by any kind of preaching.

    A small cluster of reporters representing the society
sections of Caprican news journals and video-com networks
were already gathered outside the theater, waiting to see
who would be attending the gala premiere of a play that Sire
Uri had been doing much to publicize for some time.  As soon
as they saw the warrior who had been heavily profiled for
the last two yahrens emerge from the hired skylimousine with
Adama and Ila, they instantly took notice and began to
congregate around him.  Cain was more than willing to
accommodate them.  For the next ten centons, the man who
would one day become known simply as the Juggernaut, regaled
them with tales of his combat exploits that held their
attention so much that when Sire Uri's vehicle arrived ten
centons later, they completely ignored the producer's
arrival (much to the sire's annoyance and anger).

    Adama, Ila and Cain had reserved seats in the front row
of the theater, just five feet away from the stage.  Cain
idly leafed through the program that had been presented to
him, trying to get a handle on what he'd be seeing unfold
before him.

    "Two Sisters," he read the title aloud, "What's it
about?"

    Ila rolled her eyes, "Charitably, I would call it a
second-rate melodrama.     It's about two Aquarian sisters,
and how one of them, who's beautiful and glamorous and
wealthy, manages to seduce the husband of her older, less
glamorous sister, and the subsequent ramifications in the
lives of both.   When I finished reading my advance copy, I
knew right away that if it had been presented to me by one
of my students, I'd have flunked it in a micron."

    "Poor Galen," Adama sighed, "He would have been better
off taking remedial classes of yours at the Institute."

    "His ego won't allow him.     Once a playwright's had
his first work done by the National Theater Company, he
never wants to look back.     But Galen just can't accept
the fact that he was a hit only because we were in the midst
of a cultural dry-spell at the time."

    Cain looked over the cast list, "Your friend Bethany
plays the older sister?"

    "Naturally," Ila smiled, "You don't think that Uri would
have his 'protege' play any part other than the glamorous
one, would you?"

    "I guess not," Cain chuckled, "I guess not."

    The lights then dimmed and the play started.  It only
took five centons for Cain to realize that Ila's assessment
of the play as second-rate melodrama was exactly on the
mark.   The premise that there would be two sisters in such
diametrically opposite lifestyles struck him as silly, and
it was also clear the dialogue was clunky beyond belief.

    Danela, the 'young protege' of Sire Uri, briefly caught
Cain's interest when she made her entrance.   Danela was a
strikingly attractive blonde girl in her early twenties,
whom the lieutenant immediately recognized from advertising
displays in various newsjournals and vid-com broadcasts.
She had a provocative sexual aura that Cain was familiar
with from all the one-night stands he'd enjoyed in the last
three yahrens at various liberty ports in the star systems
of the Colonial Frontier.     There was no question, that
Danela was definitely the kind of girl he could have falling
at his feet in a micron's time, once he got the chance to
turn on his patented charm act, that many a socialator and
barmaid  had fallen for.  Ever since his Academy days, he'd
found that the same kind of egocentric braggadocio that
served him well as a combat flyer could also have the right
effect on the right kind of woman.

    Once Danela opened her mouth, and the audience heard a
high-pitched squeak emanate, Cain right away knew that she
had no talent as an actress.  The rest of the audience knew
it too, and were soon letting out small bursts of
unintentional laughter whenever she spoke some of the play's
heavy-handed dialogue.  If they'd been able to look up into
Sire Uri's private box, they would have instantly seen the
producer visibly squirm.

    Cain had barely finished assessing Danela, when Ila's
friend Bethany made her entrance as the older sister.  Cain
was half-expecting her to be made-up looking dowdy and
frumpy, but he was pleasantly surprised to see a woman who
looked attractive from a wholesome, rather than provocative
perspective.  She had light reddish-brown hair, radiant blue
eyes and a face that seemed almost angelic to Cain.   As
soon as he saw her smile for the first time, that angelic
impression was only heightened in his mind, and to his
amazement he found his heart skip a beat.

    She's different, he said to himself.  She's definitely a
woman of class.

    The unapproachable kind, he then reminded himself, as he
settled back in his seat.  I couldn't do a thing with
someone like her.

    But as the play progressed, Cain found his attention on
Bethany increasing.  He was no drama expert, but he could
already tell that she was giving a performance that
definitely elevated the material above its subpar quality.
She was bringing nobility, dignity and pathos to the part of
the older sister that made Cain feel genuine sympathy for
her character.  And when she delivered a powerful soliloquy,
standing alone on the stage, as she recalled the trials of
her life and her determination to survive despite the
setbacks, Cain found to his amazement that his eyes were
tearing up.

    For sagan's sake, he thought to himself.  This is
silly.  It's only a damned play.

    Maybe so, he reflected further.  But she has remarkable
talent.  I've got to meet her, and let her know that.

    He then remembered something Ila had said earlier in the
evening about where she and Adama would be going after the
play.  Something about a reception at the Pyramid Towers
Hotel two blocks away, where all the major people involved
in the play would be celebrating the premiere night.  Sire
Uri would be there, and so would the playwright Galen.  If
Ila was such a good friend of Bethany, then it was
inconceivable to think that she wouldn't be there too.

    Already, the plans he'd made for himself when he'd set
out that evening, were fast becoming forgotten as he
continued to watch Bethany's captivating performance unfold
before him.

    When the play finally ended after two centars that
seemed interminable to those who already knew that they had
just witnessed a commercial disaster, Cain was pleased to
see that the loudest applause from the audience came when
Bethany took her curtain call.  Along with Ila and Adama, he
reserved his only applause for her as well.

    As the crowd began to file out toward the exits, Ila
gathered her things and let out a sigh of relief, "Thank the
Lords of Kobol that's over."

    "Cain, thank you for coming," Adama said as he shook his
friend's hand, "Get in touch with us whenever it's
convenient.  You're always welcome in our house."

    "What?" Cain frowned slightly in befuddlement as soon as
Adama shook his hand, "You're saying goodbye now?"

    Adama frowned back, "You said you planned on leaving,
after-."

    "Oh," he flushed slightly, "Well, I was thinking that
maybe it would be rude of me to cut out on the two of you so
fast.   If I wanted to go along to this reception that's
planned, would that be all right?"

    "I don't see why it wouldn't," Ila was surprised as she
wrapped her elegant silken scarf around the neck of her blue
formal gown, "If you want to come, you're most welcome."

    "Thank you," Cain sounded relieved, "Thank you, I
appreciate that."

    "You're welcome, Cain," Adama found it difficult to
conceal the surprise he felt.  There was something in Cain's
tone he'd never heard in his friend before in all the
yahrens he'd known him.  He couldn't quite put his finger on
it, but whatever it was, it was definitely out of character
for Cain.


    Thirty centons later, they were in the Main Reception
Room of the Pyramid Towers Hotel, long regarded as the most
elegant in all of Caprica City.  Approximately fifty people
had shown-up for what was supposed to be a festive, opening
night party, but right away, Ila and Adama could sense that
the overall mood in the room was anything but festive.

    "Good evening, Sire Uri," Ila said brightly as soon as
she saw the slouched form of the producer standing off to
one side.  The sire had the look of a man who had once cut a
dashing figure in his younger days,  but who was now
starting to lose the battles of a war that could only be
lost, as evidenced by a receding hairline and a few extra
pounds at the waistline.    He was holding a full glass of
Skorpian bourbon, and his expression was anything but happy.

    "Ah yes," Uri said as he sipped his glass, "Professor
Ila of the Institute?"

    "Correct," Ila nodded, "I don't believe you've met my
husband, Lieutenant Adama of the Battlestar Rycon.."

    "Sire Uri," Adama politely bowed.  The middle-aged sire
didn't bother to shake hands, further indicating his
downcast mood, "My wife's spoken highly of your efforts on
behalf of the arts."

    "Well, consider it a civic duty of mine that has its
rewards and sometimes its....failures," Uri took another sip
of his drink, and it already seemed apparent to Adama and
Ila that it would not be the last one the sire would indulge
in that night.

    Adama decided to change the subject, "Ah Sire Uri, may I
present a friend of mine you've probably read about.
Lieutenant Cain of the Battlestar Pegasus."

    But as soon as Adama turned around to indicate his
friend, both he and Ila were surprised to see that Cain was
still lingering in the doorway of the Reception Hall
entrance, his eyes darting about the whole of the room as
though he were trying to find something.

    "Cain?" Adama called and motioned his friend to come
over, "Could you please come over here for a centon?"

    "What?" Cain's head jerked toward them, "Sorry, what was
that you said,  Adama?"

    "I said could you please come over here for a centon?"
Adama gently repeated, as he wondered just what was causing
his friend to act so odd.

    The brown-haired lieutenant quickly shuffled over to
where the three people were standing.

    "Lieutenant Cain, Sire Uri," Adama said again.

    "A pleasure to meet you," there was a rushed quality to
Cain's words as he hastily shook hands with the sire.

    "Ah yes," Uri looked him over, "Weren't you the one the
reporters were paying such close attention to, outside the
theater?"

    "I ah, suppose so, sir."    Ordinarily, Cain never felt
the instinct to be so polite to anyone from the noble
class.     But on this evening, braggadocio was the furthest
instinct from his mind.

    "Then I'm glad you're here," a mirthless smile came
across the producer's face, "You might be able to deflect
them from me again if more of them show up here."

    Ila immediately sensed that she needed to get the
nobleman's mind off the subject of the play, and she knew
she had to take advantage of the meeting for her own
purposes.    She immediately took him by the arm and led him
away from the two warriors.   "Ah, Sire Uri  I was wondering
if you and I could talk about the proposed contribution for
the Institute's building fund for the next yahren..."

    "Yes, I was planning on speaking to the Headmaster about
that tomorrow, but this would be a much more opportune time
to settle those matters...." Uri's mood seemed to brighten
as they moved off.

     Once his wife and Uri were out of earshot, Adama turned
to Cain and gave his friend a thoroughly puzzled look.

    "Are you all right?" he gently inquired.

    "I'm fine," Cain said hastily, "Perfectly fine."

    "You don't....seem like yourself."

    "It's nothing," Cain's attempts at reassurance did
little to impress his friend, "Nothing at all."

    "Okay," Adama kept his tone cautious, "Care for a drink
at the bar?"

    "I'd love one," Cain said.  At the moment, Cain felt his
body quivering inside to the point where he felt he could
definitely use one.

    They made their way over to the other side of the room
where a uniformed steward was mixing and serving drinks.
Adama took a glass of Caprican white ambrosia, while Cain
took a more stiff drink in the form of Sagitarian brandy.

    "So," Adama decided to start a new conversation, "Did
you think the play was as bad as everyone else seemed to
think?"

    "Very," Cain took a sip and began to toy with his glass,
gently rocking it back and forth in his right hand, "But I
have to say this.  Your wife's friend Bethany was
fantastic."

    "She was certainly the only bright spot," Adama
admitted, "I think she's going to be the only one who ends
up prospering from this whole thing."

    "I hope so," there was a note of concern in Cain's voice
that again struck Adama as odd, "I really hope so."  He then
looked Adama in the eye, "You think she'll show up here?"

    A glimmer of understanding finally dawned in the back of
Adama's head.

    "Ah yes," he nodded in a reassuring manner, "Yes, she
should.  After all, she knows that Ila's going to be here,
and they go back a long ways."

    "What's she like?" he blurted out.

    Adama found it incredulous that Cain was showing this
kind of interest in a woman he'd never met.     The only
thing that made him realize he should oblige his friend, was
the fact that Cain wasn't showing the kind of interest he
would normally have reserved for a socialator or barmaid.

    "Well...." he chose his words carefully, "She's a third
generation performer.    Her parents had some minor success
in their day, but weren't too prominent."

    "Sealed?" Cain interjected, meaning he wanted to know
that more than anything else.

    "No," Adama shook his head, finding this amazing.

    "Well.....they should have found something better for
her than this play," Cain then spotted a female attendant
carrying a tray of elaborate pastries, and he impulsively
grabbed one that was thickly layered with cream.     As he
idly nibbled on it, and then alternated by taking a sip of
his brandy to wash it down, Adama decided he needed to give
his friend some space for now.      He was too afraid he
might make an impulsively inappropriate remark that Cain
might not take well, given his strange, anxious state.

    When he reached his wife, he saw that she had parted
company from Sire Uri.

    "Well," Ila said with some relief, "I managed to take
Uri's mind off the critical drubbing the play's going to
receive by telling him how the Institute will be happy to
honor him with a presentation if his contribution to our
budget is a bit more generous this coming term."

    "I may need you to take Cain's mind off something,"
Adama said dryly.

    "What do you mean?"

    "Cain is most anxious to meet your friend, Bethany," her
husband said.   "He seems to be uncharacteristically
smitten."

    "Wait a centon," a dark expression came over Ila's face,
"You've told me about Cain and his.....ways with women.
I'm not about to let him pull that felgercarb on my best
friend!"

    "No, no, this is different," Adama shook his head, "I've
seen Cain in action many times with socialators, and this
doesn't fit that profile.    He's.....interested in her for
what could well be all the right reasons."

    "Really?" she lifted an eyebrow, "You mean watching her
in the play managed to crack that tough facade of his?"

    "Look at him," Adama motioned, and they could see on the
other side of the room, a visibly anxious Cain glancing up
at the entrance every few microns when he wasn't going back
to his brandy, or munching nervously on his pastry.    "That
isn't like, Cain.    Believe me."

    "I believe you," Ila was amazed.

    "Ila!"

    They turned around and saw emerging from a rear
entrance, the smiling face of her friend, Bethany.     Now
out of the drab costume she had worn in the play, she had
transformed herself completely.     She wore a classic style
white stola, that left the arms and the right shoulder
exposed.   Her reddish-brown hair was swept up and piled
high in an elegant, coiled style that lent an almost regal
aura to her appearance.    A pair of golden sandals
completed the ensemble.

    "Bethany, it's good to see you!" Ila came up and
embraced her childhood friend.  "I wouldn't have missed this
for the universe."

    "Even if you had to sit through a bad play in the
process?" Bethany impishly lowered her voice.

    "To Hades with the play," Ila said, "You were terrific."

    "You always were my best audience."

    "Doing those Primary School pageants with you couldn't
help but make me biased when it comes to judging your work,"
she gave her a friendly pat.

    Bethany looked up and noticed Adama, "Adama, it's good
to see you again, too!    I don't think I've seen you since
the day you and Ila got sealed."

    "Two yahrens," Adama smiled as he shook hands with
her.     Already, he was wondering what kind of effect her
appearance was going to have on Cain.   "And may I echo what
Ila said.   You were the one bright spot in the play."

    He looked back over his shoulder and saw that Cain
hadn't noticed her entrance.   He had nervously helped
himself to another pastry.

    "You two chat and catch up on old times.    I'll be back
in a centon."

    Adama made his way over, and had to gently tap Cain on
the shoulder to get his attention.

    "What?" he jumped, as if he'd been hit by a stun gun.

    "Cain," Adama said gently, "Bethany's here.    She and
Ila are over there.    If you'd like to meet her....."

    Cain's head darted over, and he practically froze at the
sight of the woman who'd been captivating him all
evening.     Especially now that she was dressed in a way
that to Cain, reminded him of a statue from antiquity of a
goddess.

    Right away, Cain was feeling something inside him that
didn't match any of the emotions he'd felt around other
women he'd tried to impress himself on before.  With those
women, it had only been a physical lust and the desire to
know them for just one quick evening of fun and a brief
respite to get himself ready for the next combat mission.
But this was the first woman he could ever recall seeing who
had moved him to a different kind of desire.  He certainly
felt a physical attraction to Bethany, especially the way
she looked now, but at the same time he could also feel an
equal desire to just talk to her, and get to know more about
her as a person.  And if he was successful, he knew he
wanted it to be for more than just one evening.

    The only thing going through his mind was how the
routine he always employed on other women was something he
had no intention of trying on her.  If he wanted to make an
impression, as he dearly wanted to do, another approach was
needed.

    The only problem with that, he realized to his horror,
was that he had absolutely no idea what kind of approach
that had to be.  This was uncharted territory for Cain.  A
moment in his life that he'd never prepared himself for.

    What the frack do I do? he thought.

    No answers were coming to him.  Only the realization
that he was starting to sweat profusely underneath his dress
uniform.

    "Come on," Adama's gentle voice broke his concentration,
"Let's go over and I'm sure Ila will introduce you to her."

    Cain took another sip of his drink and clutched it
tightly in his hand as he started to follow Adama to the
other side of the room.     All the while, not realizing
that he still held his second pastry in the other hand.

    When Adama reached the two ladies, he said pleasantly,
"Oh, Bethany, I'd like you to meet an old friend of mine
from the Academy," Adama motioned to Cain, "Bethany,
Lieutenant Cain."

    Cain, trailing Adama by several feet,  felt the nervous
tension raging inside him so much, that he wondered if his
legs would give out from under him any micron.

    "Lieutenant," Bethany bowed her head slightly and smiled
warmly.

    "Yes, ah, I ah..."  Cain awkwardly cleared his throat
and couldn't understand why he wasn't getting an articulate
syllable out, "I just wanted to..."  he then extended his
right hand to shake hers, and then realized to his horror
that his hand was entirely covered in sticky cream from a
forgotten pastry that he had been unknowingly squeezing
thanks to his inner tension.   "Oh, frack." he whispered.

    Both Ila and Adama were staring at the tough warrior
with a mixture of amazement and embarrassment.     Bethany
had more of a bemused expression on her face as she took a
step toward the nervously sweating lieutenant.

    "Can I get you something for that, Lieutenant?" she
asked pleasantly and leaned toward him.

    Hearing the sound of her voice directed at him only made
Cain completely lose track of everything else.    Before he
could stammer out a response, he became aware that his other
hand was still holding a just-refilled glass of brandy.
Instinctively, he moved it back to his right hand,
forgetting it was still covered in sticky and slippery
cream.     The effect immediately caused the full glass of
brandy to slip out of his right hand and spill its contents
all over the front of Bethany's stola, seeping down into the
cleavage area.

    "Oh my God!" Cain blurted in horror, as Bethany let out
a startled gasp.     And a micron later, the tumbling glass
had shattered directly on the exposed portion of her right
foot, which caused her to let out another gasp, this time in
pain from the glass cutting through her foot.

    "Lords of Kobol, I'm sorry, I----!" Cain placed his
right hand on her left shoulder, and then realized he'd just
used her as a place to wipe the cream off.

    "That's-----," Bethany was still staring down at her
foot, which was now covered in a trail of blood.    Adama
and Ila were frantically moving in, trying to pull her away
and get her to a nearby chair.

    And all the while, Cain saw to his horror, there were
news journalists snapping their holopic devices at the
scene, while the rest of the party guests were moving in to
try and see what had caused all the commotion.

    Slowly, he backed out of the room, wishing at that
instant that he was standing in front of a Cylon firing
squad.


     The morning sunlight streamed through the windows of
Cain's bachelor apartment on the outskirts of Caprica City,
which he shared with a member of Green Squadron who had just
gone back to duty aboard the Pegasus.  Lying on the bed,
Cain scarcely noticed.    He had spent the entire night
brooding about what had happened.  Too embarrassed to even
think of trying to sleep.

    Why? he kept asking over and over.  Why did it have to
come out like that?

    Several times, he'd heard the chime of his telecom
sound, knowing that it was probably Adama calling to try and
cheer him up.  He didn't bother answering it.  The last
thing he wanted to do was talk to anyone about what had
happened.

    Damn you Commander, he suddenly started to curse at
Summner for no better reason, you just had to make me take a
six sectar furlon?  So I could make a fool of myself in
front of a woman like Bethany?

    As the glow of morning intensified into the brightness
of midday, Cain finally forced himself to get up, finally
remove his dress uniform, and take a long soak in his
turbowash.    When he emerged ten centons later, he heard
his telecom chiming again.  Feeling more refreshed after his
time in the turbowash, he reluctantly decided to answer it.

    "Yes?" his tone was flat, as he waited for the sound of
Adama's voice.

    "Lieutenant Cain?" right away, he knew this wasn't
Adama.  This was a high-pitched squeaky male voice.

    "Yes, this is Cain," he frowned.

    "It's about time you answered your telecom," the voice
snapped, "Unless you've been out causing more public
relations disasters elsewhere."

    "Look who---" Cain started angrily.

    "This is Colonel Hengist, Caprica City District
Commander," the voice said sternly, "In case you've
forgotten Lieutenant, all warriors on furlon in the Caprican
western hemisphere are answerable to my authority when their
commanding officers are absent."

    "Yes, I'm well-aware of that, sir," Cain's voice dropped
to an obedient tone as he wiped a towel over his forehead,
"Do you need me to report to District Headquarters for any
reason?"

    "Do you understand why I'm calling, Lieutenant?" the
squeaky voice of Hengist rose.

    "Not really sir," he kept his tone deferential.

    "Well in case you didn't know it Lieutenant, your little
escapade at the Pyramid Towers last night is not only on the
front page of the entertainment section of every Caprica
City news journal, it also made the lead story on the BNC
Evening Report!     And at least two other colonies will be
running it on their news broadcasts too."

    Cain tightened his grip on the telecom.   He had noticed
the reporters capturing the scene of his fiasco, but had
never dreamed it would get this much publicity.

    "Needless to say," Hengist went on, "This is not the
sort of thing we expect from a warrior we've done a great
deal to build-up as a military hero."

    What do you mean 'we've' and what do you mean 'build-
up', Cain thought with disgust.  Even though he'd never met
Hengist before, he knew right away that he was the kind of
officer in the military he despised the most.  A deskbound
bureaucrat who'd probably never seen a micron of combat
since Academy training.

    Still, he had no desire to make things worse, so he kept
his voice level, "Sir, I apologize for any embarrassment
I've caused the Service.  It won't happen again."

    "It better not," Hengist snapped, "The Colonial Service
prides itself on having its warriors have totally impeccable
public images.     If this sort of thing happens again,
Lieutenant, your next assignment won't be on the Pegasus,
but as maintenance officer on a sanitation ship!"

    And I'll bet you know what that's like, you pathetic
snitrod,  Cain said to himself as heard the click indicating
that the District Commander had terminated the call.

    Cain's embarrassment was rapidly replaced by a boiling
sense of anger.  Hearing himself talked down to by someone
like Hengist struck him as a far greater indignity than what
he'd gone through the previous night at the reception.

    But there was nothing he could do about that indignity.
His past experience with Commander Kronus already told him
that an incompetent superior could get away with just about
anything, and the only thing he could do was let it pass.

    On the other hand though, he reflected further, it was
possible for him to do something about the indignity at the
reception.  But only if he took some prompt initiative.

    Well Colonel Hengist, Cain said to himself, maybe your
call wasn't such a bad thing for me after all.

    A renewed sense of determination went through the
Juggernaut as he took out his regulation warrior's uniform
and began to quickly dress.

************************************************************
********************************************

    A centar later, Cain was standing in front of the rear
entrance door to the Caprican National Teater.  He could
still feel a lot of nervous tension inside him, but this
time he was determined not to fail no matter what, and that
determination was the only thing preventing him from being a
quivering wreck once again.

    He calmly straightened himself and then gave a firm rap
on the door.  A centon passed before it opened and the
middle-aged stage doorman peered out at him, "Can I help
you?"

    "I need to see Bethany," Cain said calmly, "Is she
here?"

    "Yeah, she's on the backstage.  Who are you anyway?"

    "I'm the one who acted like an equinian astrum last
night," Cain said, "I came to apologize to her."

    The doorman's eyes widened, "Oh yeah, Lieutenant Cain.
Hey, I read all about you in the Review.  Couldn't believe
it when the BNC said it was you last night."

    "Never mind that," a note of impatience entered his
voice, "Just tell her I need to see her."

    "Sure thing," the doorman disappeared back inside, and
for the next five centons, Cain found himself nervously
tapping his foot against the sidewalk, waiting for him to
return.

    Finally, the doorman reemerged, "You're in luck,
Lieutenant.  Come right in."

    "Thank the Lords," Cain whispered aloud in relief as he
followed him in.  The doorman led him through the dimly lit
backstage corridors and finally out onto the cavernous
backstage region located behind the set designs that faced
the audience.

    Bethany was sitting in a chair in front of a make-up
table at the far side of the stage.  She was wearing a
simple brown dress and robe that while conservative, still
enhanced her femininity.  Her right boot was off and she was
massaging the spot on her foot that Cain knew right away was
where the glass had landed and caused a medium-sized cut.

    Cain felt his stomach knot up again.  He had mentally
prepared his first words for more than a centar, and now
they weren't coming out again.

    To his relief, the doorman spoke up first, "Lieutenant
Cain, miss," he said and then walked away.

    Bethany looked up and when she saw Cain standing there,
she smiled warmly at him, "Good afternoon, Lieutenant."

    Cain sucked in his breath, "Good afternoon." his words
weren't as strong as he'd hoped, but at least he wasn't a
stammering idiot, "I ah, are you feeling all right?"

    "This?" she kept smiling as she finished rubbing her
foot, "This wasn't much.  I finally took the bandage off a
centar ago.  Still a little tender, but no big deal.
Thankfully, they don't make chalices out of pure Kobollian
glass any longer.    They used to say that had the sharpness
of a razor."

    "I'm glad.  Look Bethany, I ah," Cain took a step
forward and found himself taking another breath, "I can't
begin to tell you how sorry I am for what happened last
night.  I ah, I only wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed
you in the play, and that I thought you were absolutely
magnificent."

    "Thank you," she was looking him over with interest,
"You're very kind."

    "Well, I," Cain awkwardly looked away and tried to
figure out where he was going next, "I um...felt you really
deserved it.   I mean, I don't know what the critics had to
say, but...."

    "They were relatively charitable on the whole," Bethany
put a hand under her chin and seemed fascinated by him, "The
play of course, received the trashing it so richly deserves
for its silly plot, but they were gentler on me."

    He managed to look back at her, "How gentle?"

    She let out light, hearty laugh, "The eminently
respectable Shalit of the BNC said last night, and I  quote,
'Amidst the disaster of this turgid affair, there is a very
credible performance by Bethany as the older sister.  One
hopes that stronger material is found for her in the future
so that the full extent of her acting potential can be
really appreciated.'"

    "That's an understatement," Cain said, "You were
brilliant."

    Bethany shrugged as she put her boot back on and zipped
it up, "I can just be secure in the knowledge that I did my
best, and that some people felt it was a good effort."

    "Yeah, well," he drew himself up, "That was all I was
anxious to tell you last night, and in my haste, I got all
silly and clumsy, and...the last thing I wanted to do was
humiliate you."

    "It could have happened to anyone," her voice grew
gentle and reassuring, "I'm not angry at you, Cain.  My
white stola may be shot to Hades forever thanks to your
brandy and your pastry, but it was only rented for the
occasion anyway, and the bill goes to Sire Uri.  Don't let
it bother you anymore."

    "It's...not an easy thing to put out of my mind."

    "Why?" her tone stayed gentle, "Because it's so unlike
you?"

    Cain frowned slightly, "What do you mean?"

    "I know all about you," Bethany said, "Even before Adama
and Ila filled me in last night.   I read the Soldier's
Review too and I recognized you right away because I read
that article quite a few times.  And I know that last night,
wasn't anything one would expect of the proud, boastful
warrior reputed to have such an easy way with young women."

    Cain didn't say anything and began to look down at the
floor.

    "I think that's why I couldn't possibly be mad at you,"
Bethany's voice grew softer and more gentle, "I almost
consider it a compliment that you acted like a klutz for the
first time in your life, just because of your determination
to meet me."  she then paused for effect, "And I didn't get
that realization because Adama and Ila did all kinds of
explaining and apologizing for you, I came to it myself.
And I've been hanging around the theater all day long,
because I just knew that sooner or later, you'd want to come
back here."

    Cain wondered if he was locking up inside.    He found
himself unable to move from his position, and unable to look
up at her.

    Bethany  got to her feet and walked up to him.  When
Cain didn't look up from the floor, she placed her hand
under his chin and tilted it up so that he was now looking
her in the eye.

    "You do want to know me better, do you?" her voice
became a lilting whisper.

    Cain found the strength to slowly nod his head, "Yes."

    "Good," she smiled, "Now quit blushing like a little boy
who just caught stealing a mushie, and take me across the
street to Joho's Restaurant for an early dinner.  Let's
start afresh and have a real conversation."

    For the first time, Cain managed to relax, "Okay," he
said, "I'd love that very much."

    "Then let's go," she said as she locked her arm into his
and they walked out.



    As they settled down to their sumptuous meal, Cain was
fast discovering to his relief that the tension he'd felt
was dissipating with each passing moment that he talked with
Bethany.

    "So your parents were actors?"

    "Yes," she nodded, "But my grandfather was the first
real actor in my family.     He sort of pushed my father
into the business, and that's how he met my mother.     But
it was a rough life for them because they never made a
comfortable living from it, so that's why they tried to
discourage me from doing it."

    "But you chose otherwise."

    "I couldn't help it," Bethany sighed as she picked at
her meal of fried sea clams.   "I spent too many centars in
front of my video-com watching all kinds of productions.
I'd start to mimic the actors on the screen, and when I
finally started reciting whole passages of dialogue, I then
realized that this was what I wanted to do for a living.
Even if I hadn't come from an acting family, I think that's
what I would have wanted to do."

    "Ila mentioned that the two of you did school pageants
together."

    "We did," she chuckled, "Silly kids stuff.  Holiday
celebrations and those kinds of things.  It made me learn
how to be comfortable in front of an audience.  Once you've
conquered your fear of performing in front of people at an
early age, it's a lot easier to concentrate on the finer
points of performing."

    "Your parents must be proud of you."

    "They never got a chance to see me perform as an adult,"
her tone grew somber.   "They were killed in a Cylon raid
when I was sixteen."

    "I'm sorry."

    "It's okay," she waved her hand, "That's....the sort of
thing you have to be prepared to face in the age we live
in.      My mother's father was a warrior who was killed in
action, so that taught her all the things she had to pass on
to me as far as being prepared for that went."

    "Where did he serve?" Cain's curiosity was piqued.

    "He was a bridge officer on the Pacifica.  He got killed
during a suicide attack at the Battle of Antioch."

    They taught a whole class on that battle at the
Academy," Cain said, "That wasn't one of our finer moments."

    "I know.  But at least my grandfather did his job.  I've
always had a lot of respect for his profession." she smiled
faintly, "That's why I make it my business to read the
Soldier's Review and learn all about people like you."

    "Ever think for a micron that you could have been a
warrior yourself?" he matched her smile.

    "No," Bethany said, "Although it wouldn't have been as
much of a struggle."

    "Wouldn't have been much of a struggle?" Cain lifted an
eyebrow.

    "Not from my perspective.  Leaving aside the obvious
difference that warriors face the prospect of having to die
for the Colonial nation, I think they still have it easy
when it comes to letting people fulfill their potential."

    "Really," Cain put a hand under his chin in amused
fascination, "Actresses have it tougher than warriors?"

     "I think so," she said, "Look at it this way.  We both
belong to professions where you attend a specialized
institute for four yahrens.  At these institutions of
learning, they train you vigorously in all the fine points
of what it takes to be the best in the trade.  And
inevitably, there are students who display more natural
talent and ability than the others.  Like you, for
instance."

    "Okay," Cain was fascinated with her thinking, "But when
does it get easier for us?"

    "At graduation time, naturally," Bethany took a sip of
ambrosia, "On the day you are handed your commission as an
Ensign in the Colonial Service, you automatically know
you'll be getting an assignment in the place you're best
qualified for.  In your line of work, the best combat flyer
who graduates from the Academy will get an assignment to a
battlestar squadron.  With us, the most naturally gifted
actor can graduate from the Institute and still end up
making his or her living flying a downtown skytaxi ten
yahrens later without ever having a real chance to do what
he's best at.     My parents had to spend many yahrens doing
that kind of felgercarb before I was born."

    "But that's never happened to you, has it?" he asked
wryly.

    "Not yet, thank the Lords of Kobol," she said, "But
spending the last eight yahrens since I graduated doing
regional theater in the warm seasons is only a few steps
above that.  Just enough to keep me from working part-time
as a barmaid, but not what I'd been hoping for.  And you
also have to confront the fact that not only are there so
few good acting jobs to go around, you also face the
obstacle of having to deal with no-talent 'proteges' of all
the important people in the business getting special
treatment ahead of you."

    "Like Danela?"

    Bethany smiled coyly, "No names please.  Especially
since I have to keep working with her for however long Sire
Uri's ego dictates that this lousy play stays open."

    "Okay," Cain leaned back in his chair, "I see your
point.  But that kind of dirty politics can also come up in
the military.  That's what got me suspended for two
semesters from the Academy."

    "You?  Suspended?" she set her glass down, "How did that
happen?"

    "Because I put my natural talent to use at the wrong
time, according to Commander Kronus," he said with less
bitterness than he ordinarily injected when he told the
story to other people, "It was part of what we call the
Baptism of Fire ritual.  That's when a cadet is given his
first combat mission, by being assigned to fly one mission
with a battlestar squadron."

    "I'm familiar with that," she nodded.

    "In my case, I got assigned to the Rycon.  We were
supposed to take care of some Cylons that were harassing
civilian transport ships.  As it turned out, it only took me
five microns to realize that the commander of our squadron
was an unimaginative dunce.  My instincts told me that the
Cylons were hiding in back of the tenth moon orbiting
Sagitara, but our commander wouldn't listen to what I had to
say.  Well I decided to take matters into my own hands, and
starting talking him down, until finally the rest of the
squadron began to see things my way, and I organized us into
a run on the Sagitarian moon.  Sure enough, that's where
they were.  And because we got the jump on them, we wiped
them out in a micron's time with no losses."

    "And you got into trouble for that?" her blue eyes
widened.

    "I wouldn't have, if it had been a decent commander like
Summner or Odysseus," Cain said, "Kronus however, is of the
old fuddy-duddy school of thinking that believes fidelity to
regulations is more important than getting the job done at
any cost.  To his stuffy way of thinking, a cadet speaking
up and challenging the authority of a squadron leader is
such an unpardonable sin, that it must be punished even
though it ended up saving lives.  Because of that, he used
his influence with the Academy Commandant to get me
suspended for two semesters, so I could be 'taught a lesson
about the importance of the chain of command.'  Now, every
warrior I entered the Academy with, is technically my senior
and has the right to give me orders if we're ever equal in
rank."

    "I stand partially corrected then," Bethany said, "We
both seem to have more in common than I realized."

    "Our professions, or you and me?" he smiled.

    "What do you think?" she smiled back and took another
sip of ambrosia.  The look in her eye instantly told Cain
that she meant both, but was putting an emphasis on the
latter.

     After several more centons of conversing, Cain felt
comfortable enough to probe a little further, "I ah, take it
I'm not the first lucky man who's had a dinner date with
you?"

    "No," the coy expression returned to her face, "Just
like I know I'm not the first lucky woman you've had dinner
with."

    "Okay, okay," he chuckled and lowered his head
sheepishly, "I should know better than to ask that.  It's
none of my business."

    "Except for the fact that I am not, and never have been
attached to any of my former dates."

    "That surprises me," he said, "You're a beautiful woman,
Bethany."

    "You're making the faulty, male-centered assumption that
none of them wanted to become attached," Bethany smiled, "A
few did.  I've just never had the time to be interested.
Trying to claw my way to the top in this business has come
first for the last eight yahrens.  Just like I know you've
been too busy clawing your way through the ranks with your
devotion to combat to be interested in any attachments to
your former dates."

    Cain shook his head in amazement, "You're the first
person I've ever met who can see right through me in an
instant."

    "Maybe it's because we seem to think so much alike," she
folded her hands, "We both have pride in our own natural
talent at what we do.  We both want to be the best at our
trade.  We've both had to work against people blocking our
roads to success.  I wouldn't be surprised if it turned out
we have other things in common."

    "For instance?" he leaned forward.

    "I'm an only child, and so are you.   Right?"

    "Right." he smiled back.

    "Orphaned like me, and no other living family to go
see?"

    "Right."

    "And I would also surmise that you have the look of
someone who enjoys watching a triad match."

    "You're right," he admitted, "I love the competition of
a team of great warriors battling it out for a full centar
with no rest.  That's like experiencing hand-to-hand combat
in the old days."

    "I love watching them too.  And not just because the
warriors look cute in those uniforms," she smirked, "It just
so happens that there's an afternoon match at the Maximus
Arena tomorrow that I'd love to see."

    Cain smiled and found himself reaching out and taking
her hand, "My dear Bethany, it would be an honor."


     True to his word, Cain took her to the triad match the
next day.  And then he went back and saw her perform in the
play again.  That was followed in the next sectan by four
more dinner dates, another triad match, and two more
viewings of the play.

    On none of those dates, did Cain or Bethany make any
kind of move aimed at seduction of the other.  They both
seemed to sense that they had something special enough just
by being together, and spending long centars conversing and
talking with each other. That carrying it too far would
cheapen the entire experience they'd been sharing up to that
point.

    As if they wanted to emphasize that silent understanding
between them, every one of their dates always ended with no
more than a quick hug or a light kiss on the cheek.

    Another two sectans went by.  By then, Sire Uri had
finally chosen to cut his financial losses and close the
play.  On the day after the last performance, Cain took
Bethany to show her the Colonial Military Academy.  The
large cluster of buildings that housed classrooms, dormitory
complexes, and athletic and training centers were all done
in a quaint, old-style architecture that blended in
perfectly with the rustic surroundings.  The Academy itself
was located well outside the Caprica City municipal limits
in a lush green valley lined with trees that was totally
devoid of any other residential and commercial development.

    "It's so peaceful here," Bethany commented as Cain led
her around the main Parade Grounds, pointing out the various
buildings that dotted the landscape.

    "We're very fortunate the Academy's in recess and all
the cadets are away for a sectan."

    "That's not what I meant," she said, "I meant this whole
location.  So removed from all the activity of Caprica
City."

    "They did that deliberately when they chose this site,
four hundred yahrens ago," Cain stated, "The old Academy was
located two blocks from the Presidium and District
Headquarters, because they thought it was more expedient to
keep them centrally located.  Unfortunately, as Caprica City
became more developed, they soon realized that not only were
the facilities becoming rapidly inadequate, but all the
cadets were having too much easy access to a lot of
distractions in the city.  Not a good situation when the war
was entering a new, more difficult phase."

    "So they moved out to the country, and kept the cadets
isolated," Bethany noted, "Smart thinking.    Get them away
from the pollution, the noise and all the temptations of the
big city, and stay focused on learning how to kill Cylons."

    "Definitely," Cain nodded, "Being here forces you to
concentrate on the responsibilities a warrior has.  It makes
you more aware of the terrible job that has to be done
protecting our people before you go out and do it."

    Bethany stopped walking and looked at him with a bemused
expression, "I really didn't expect you to use a word like
that."

    "Like what?"

    "'Terrible'," she said, "I thought you loved combat
flying, and combat tactics."

    "I do," Cain responded, "That doesn't mean I love the
war.  At least, I hope it doesn't mean that.  I just take
pride in the fact that I'm probably the best person there is
when it comes to getting the terrible jobs done."

    She continued to look him over thoughtfully, "What if
there wasn't a war, Cain?  Then what would you do with your
life?"

    "No war?" he seemed amused by the question, "That's a
concept that seems alien to just about anyone.  It's been a
thousand yahrens since anyone knew what it was like for our
civilization to be at peace.  I can't say I've ever pondered
that question."

    "Try pondering it now," Bethany prodded, "I'm curious.
If the war were to end tomorrow, then what would you do with
your life?"

    Cain shrugged, "Probably stay in the Service."

    "Doing what?  The kind of work someone like that Colonel
Hengist does now?  You wouldn't last half-a-micron in
something like that."

    "I don't think if the war were ever won, that it would
mean we'd lower our defenses for eternity," he said as they
resumed walking along the Parade Grounds, "I'm not a Utopian
thinker, Bethany.  If the Cylon Empire fell, there'd
probably be another new enemy to take its place someday, and
we'd have to be prepared to face that enemy."

    "You wouldn't last in that kind of a military either,
Cain," Bethany didn't let up, "I think I know you well-
enough by now to realize that it isn't just your knowledge
of combat tactics that you take pride in.  It's the thrill
you get from the success of a combat mission.  The constant
activity of battle.  Heading a viper squadron or commanding
a battlestar in a peacetime military would be no different
than having a job like Hengist's to you."

    Cain stopped walking and looked at her again, "Maybe
you've got a point, Bethany," he said, "Maybe I don't know
what I'd do with my life if there was no more war.  But then
again, do you know what you'd do, if you couldn't act on a
stage anymore?  I've seen the way you throw yourself into a
part, and it's with the same passion that I admit I feel in
a combat situation.  Not because I'm bloodthirsty, or
insensitive to the human tragedy of people dying in this
war, but because this is the thing I excel at better than
anything else I'm capable of doing."

    "I understand," Bethany said gently, "Believe me, I do."

    "There's one part of your question, I can answer
though," Cain seemed to be gathering his inner strength for
what he was about to say next, "I may not know what I'd do
from a professional standpoint, but I know what I'd do with
my spare time.  And that's spend more of it with the people
I love."

    Her expression didn't change as she looked at him in
silence for several microns.  When she finally spoke, her
words were cautious and carefully measured.

    "Who are the people you love?"

    Cain looked her in the eye, "Right now there's only one
person who fits into that category," he said, "That's you,
Bethany.  I love you."

    Bethany tried to keep the waves of emotion she was
feeling go through her in check, "Can you tell me why you
love me, Cain?"  her voice was still level, "It's not that I
don't appreciate what you say, but...."

    "But because of my past reputation with other women?"
Cain finished the thought for her, "Is that it?"

    "Cain, it's not that I don't trust you," she tried to
sound reassuring, hoping desperately that she wouldn't say
something she'd later regret, "It's just that I have to hear
you tell me in your own words, why you feel this way about
me.    I......" she took a breath, "I need to hear you open
up with all the details, Cain."

    He let out a light chuckle and gazed skyward as if he
were looking for help from the Almighty, "Why," he said
aloud, "Why do I love you.  Well, that's a good question."

    "I have to know, Cain," her voice was gentle, but no
less emphatic, "Tell me, and then I'll be glad to tell you
something as well."

    Cain forced himself to look at her, trying not to
shuffle his feet or make any other kind of awkward gesture.

    "Bethany," he finally spoke in the most firm tone he
could manage, "I love you because you're not like any other
woman I've known, and because you have a mind that works
just like mine in a lot of ways.  You're the only woman I've
ever met that I can envision having a meaningful
relationship with because I feel totally comfortable
thinking of you as an equal."

    As soon as he had finished, Bethany put her arms around
him and for the first time kissed him on the lips.

    "Thank you for saying that," her tone was contented,
"That you think of me as an equal.  Hearing you admit that
vindicates everything I've been thinking about you."

    "What have you been thinking?" he asked as he refused to
let go of her.

    She smiled brightly, "That there was more to you than
just the man everyone read about in Soldier's Review.  That
underneath all that egocentric braggadocio, you have a
loving, sensitive side too."

    "Only when I'm with you," he smiled back, "Only with
you."

    "That's all that matters to me," Bethany said, "Because
that part of you is what I'm in love with, Cain.  And it's
the only side that I want to see when you're with me.  Be
the other Cain when you're flying your vipers and blasting
the Cylons to infinity, as long as you never keep this other
side of you hidden from me."

    "I won't," he said, "I swear by all the Lords of Kobol I
won't.  You're the only woman I've ever felt comfortable
with this way, and I don't ever want to lose you."

    "You never will," Bethany let out another contented sigh
as she rested her head on his shoulder, "You never
will."....

************************************************************
*******************************************
 ........You never will......you never will.

    The ghostly echo of her words reasonated through Cain's
head as he made the final adjustment to his uniform, and
then cast another glance back at the Hologram projector
where he had seen her image only centons ago.

    "But I did lose you," he whispered aloud.   "I lost you
without getting a chance to say goodbye, and to......" he
took a breath, "To ask you to forgive me for all the things
I didn't do for you."

    He sat down in his chair again and rubbed his
temples.    He was past his revised deadline for reporting
to the Pegasus' bridge, but he didn't care.     His mind was
still filled with the distant memories of the past.     The
happiness they'd brought him......and the guilt they now
evoked

************************************************************
*******************************************

 ........ "It's so good to see you both!"  Ila exclaimed
happily as she saw a beaming Cain and Bethany standing in
the entryway of the apartment.    "Come in and sit down."

    "Actually, we don't have time to come in," Bethany's
expression and tone were coy.   "We stopped by because we
wanted to ask you and Adama to come with us."

    "Come with you?" her childhood friend lifted an
eyebrow.   "To where?"

    "To the District Justice Center," Cain said, trying to
keep himself contained.   "We....need two witnesses."

    Ila's mouth fell open, "Good Lords of Kobol, you don't
mean to tell me that you two----," she trailed off, unable
to say it.

    "Yes," Bethany beamed proudly as she wrapped an arm
around Cain's midsection   "We're getting married and that
means the rest of Cain's furlon can be our honeymoon."

    "I don't believe it!" Ila shook her head, "Let me get
Adama!"

    As she disappeared inside the apartment, Cain and
Bethany gazed at each other and shared another quick kiss.

    "The sealing license may cost us fifty cubits," Bethany
said, "But the reaction on her face was priceless."

    "There are some things money can't buy," Cain chuckled
as he kissed her again and glanced inside, "I only hope
Adama isn't annoyed by the fact that our sealing ceremony
will be totally civil in nature, with none of the usual
religious trappings."

    "Fairly devout man?" she asked.

    "Very."

    Bethany sighed, "I don't like to call myself a Skeptic,
because I can't buy the idea that the universe is all based
on random chance, but.....I've never felt comfortable with
all the trappings of traditional religion.      I envy those
who can have a deep, secure faith, but.....I don't think I
could ever be like that."

    "Likewise," Cain sighed.   "No warrior can ever be a
total Skeptic, but.....I think you're right, there's too
much about all the ceremony of formal religion that just
strikes me as a waste.   Especially sealing ceremonies."

    A half-centon later, a still incredulous Ila had emerged
with Adama in tow.     The black-haired lieutenant's
expression was considerably milder than his wife's.

    "Congratulations," he smiled and embraced his friend.
"I had a feeling this was going to happen, the micron you
said you were going out with each other."

    "Spoken like a true tactician," Cain returned it.
"We've got an airtaxi waiting outside.    There isn't a
micron to waste!"

    And so, the four of them had ridden to downtown Caprica
City, where Cain and Bethany were married in a brief civil
ceremony that lasted all but five centons.

    The two of them then spent the next four sectars
together, and Cain knew that he'd never have another
complaint about the length of rotation furlons again.......


 ......What a happy time, Cain wistfully thought as the cold
reality of the present came back to him.    When everything
was so innocent and new for us.     Before all
the....complications.

    From that point on, throughout their thirty-three
yahrens of marriage, Cain found himself only able to spend
the total equivalent of one-third of that time with
Bethany.       And while he had always been true to his word
and showed only the side of himself that Bethany had fallen
in love with, when they were together, there had never been
any escaping the burden Bethany had to carry with being the
wife of the most renowned warrior in the Colonies.      And
with it, all the times that Cain hadn't been able to be
there for her.

    At that instant, he could now remember word-for-word all
of the important events in her life that he had found out
about only through the form of a distant holotape message
relayed to him when he'd been far out in deep space, on some
kind of assignment with the Pegasus.

    "You won't believe it!     The Colony Award for best
actress of the yahren!    I won!"

    "Dr. Craigmar told me the good news this morning.    I'm
pregnant!"

    "We have a beautiful, baby daughter, Cain.    She has
your eyes and she's a feisty little one!"

    "You were wishing me luck again, Cain, and it paid
off.    I am now the first woman in the history of the
Caprican National Theater to win four Colony Awards."

    "Sheba's been accepted to the Academy with full
scholarship honors."

    The greatest triumphs of his wife's life, and not once
had he been able to share the immediate joy with her.
Always learning of it after the fact.

    Why shouldn't it have been surprising then, that it was
via a hologram message, not from Bethany, but from a very
distraught Sheba, that first gave him the news.

    "Daddy, you have to get home as fast as you can!    Mom,
she's......she's dying, Daddy.    Something called Gamma
Syndrome.    I.....Lords of Kobol, Daddy, she's only got at
most a few sectans to live, and she's losing her grip on
reality.     She needs you there, Daddy.    I know you're so
far away, but please, please by all the Lords get home as
fast as you can!"

    He had dropped everything, and frantically put into a
liberty port where he'd left his battlestar behind and taken
a series of fast transport vehicles to get back to the
Colonies as was humanly possible.    He had been so
distraught by the news that he had considered using the
Pegasus herself to get back, but for all his unorthodox
ways, even he knew what kind of penalties he could suffer
for taking a battlestar out of action for a personal
reason.    And so, he had tried to get back, hoping he'd be
there before the end would come......only to arrive in the
Caprica City hospital where Sheba had been waiting for him,
and to tell him that he'd been too late.     That Bethany,
suffering from a debilitating brain disease that had been
causing progressive memory loss at first, and then a state
of feverish delirium, had died only sixteen centars
before.     Just long enough for her to be removed from her
hospital bed.     Her last words, in her feverish state of
incoherence, a pleading cry for her husband, calling his
name over and over again.

    But he'd been too late.    Too late to just see her one
last time and hold her hand, and give her some reassuraning
words of love.    Too late to tell her how sorry he was for
all the things he'd missed out on in the many yahrens of
their marriage.    Too late to let her know how sorry he'd
been for not realizing the anguish she'd gone through in the
latter yahrens, when his absences grew more frequent, and
she had to start dealing with the reality of Sheba growing
up and choosing his path of becoming a warrior as well.
A decision that Bethany had never once expressed a critical
word about, but one that he now realized had left her
troubled inside, because it would only add to her growing
sense of loneliness.

    It was only after she was gone, that he could look back
and realize there were so many signs he'd missed that had
signaled her inner anguish.     The sad, downcast quality of
her eyes.   The way she'd hold him so tightly whenever
they'd first meet or say goodbye to each other during a
furlon, as though she never wanted to let go of him
again.    Her unspoken, but subliminally evident lack of
enthusiasm for the fact that Sheba had chosen to follow his
footsteps and as a result, be parted from her as often as he
was.

    He had to admit that he'd kept his word to Bethany in
that while he was home, he'd been exactly the kind of man
she wanted him to be.     The loving, sensitive husband and
father who put the Juggernaut aside for those occasions of
family and togetherness.     But now, he realized that his
problem had been that he'd compartmentalized himself too
much, and had not let enough of that other side of him, the
one Bethany had loved, stay within him during the
separations, which might have made him more sensitive to his
wife's plight.      True, he'd always been faithful to her,
and had never once fallen prey to any temptations that had
crossed his path, but only too late did he realize that
there were other areas where he hadn't honored her
properly.    And for those reasons, his guilt would
seemingly never go away.

    Damn, he sighed with a heavy heart as he checked his
chronometer and realized he was late by nearly forty centons
to the Bridge.    If he didn't get there soon, Tolen might
well send Security up to see if he'd suffered some kind of
physical collapse.

    "Forgive me, Bethany," he said aloud.   "Forgive me."

    He started and made his way to the door, and then
abruptly stopped in his tracks, for seemingly no reason.
This time, his face was a study of concentration, as if he
were somehow listening to someone even though there was no
one in the room, and no voice he could hear.

    But there was in fact a presence in the room at that
instant.    A totally unseen presence that had stood before
him the entire time and had heard everything he'd said aloud
and studied all of his thoughts.     If Cain had been able
to see the presence, he would have seen a figure garbed
entirely in white and with an expression of pure love and
tenderness.

    "Oh Cain," she sighed, "How I wish I could appear
directly to you and let you know it's all right.    But
that's not allowed of any of us.    All we can be is an
unseen presence, standing beside you in these lonely
centons, and hoping that what we can say to you will
penetrate the unconscious mind.       For so long, I've
waited for the right time to do this, and now, that time has
come."

    She then drew close to him, reaching out, as if to touch
him, even though it was something her ethereal form wasn't
capable of doing.

    "Don't let guilt destroy you any more," her words were
both tender and forceful at the same time.   "From where I
am now, I can only look back and see how blest I was in life
to have you for my husband.     And how having you for only
a third of the time we were married was more meaningful to
me than if I'd had someone else who was never a warrior, and
had always been home."

    She drew closer to him, "You have so many challenges and
opportunities left ahead of you in your life, Cain.    And
you can't let any part of the past distract you from facing
those challenges, and that includes your guilt over my death
and the pain you feel over being separated from Sheba.
So right now, I'm hear to tell you that you don't need
forgiveness from me, because there isn't anything about the
life I had with you that I'd ever change.     We were blest
by the Lords to be brought together, and that's all that
matters."

    She then paused for an instant, as Cain remained locked
in his position.   "And as for Sheba.....I wish I could tell
you whether or not you'll see her again, which I know you
long for more than anything else, but the future is not for
me to let you know about.     All I can tell you is
that.....she's doing fine right now, in her new life aboard
the Galactica.    I can't ever tell you anything specific,
but.....please for her sake, put your mind at ease about
her, and just stay focused on the things you need to do
right here and now."

    For the first time, Cain's bearing seemed to recover
some of its old poise.     There was a smile from the unseen
presence and then she said what for her, would be her final
words on this occasion.

    "Goodbye, Cain.    My love will always be with you.
Both here, and in the life beyond."

    And at that instant, her presence faded from the
room.     Had Cain turned around at that instant and looked
out the porthole he would have seen several flashes of
brilliant white light darting across the stars.

    But instead, the Juggernaut's attention was directed
forward, and with it, the realization that he'd been wasting
valuable time.     Along with a realization that all the
terrible feelings of guilt and regret that had been filling
his heart and soul, had suddenly for some inexplicable
reason, lifted completely.     As if dissipated like a sun
destroying the early morning mist.

    With that sudden renewed strength filling him, he turned
back and saw the digital chronometer on his desk again, and
this time found himself smiling.

    "Happy Anniversary, Bethany," he said without any trace
of guilt, and only joy for all that he'd shared with her.

    And then he stepped out into the corridor, and with the
old spring in his step back, the Juggernaut prepared to face
another new challenge for the day.