*************************************
A Reality/BSG Crossover . . .

When I came to, the first thing I felt was a sharp, throbbing pain at the
base of my skull and the sensation that my eyes were going to explode out of
their sockets, which was why I kept them closed for several more minutes.
'What the hell?' I thought. And then I remembered; I had been exploring the
ruins of a castle in the Quixotic locale of la Mancha, Spain, when I had
tripped and fallen through a hole, partially concealed by rocks and debris,
in the ground.

I should be lying on the rubble-covered, stone floor of the castle's dark,
underground chamber. Then why did the ground feel hard, cold, smooth, and
metallic? And cramped. I felt distinctly boxed in. I opened my eyes. My
vision was blurry and swimming, since my head was still throbbing. I could
have sworn, though, that those were seats - seats?? - that kept floating in
and out of focus above me. And I was pressed against a wall to my right, a
wall that was black and smooth and definitely not made of stone.

It was all too confusing! What did I remember? I was in Spain for the summer
semester of my junior year, studying at the University of Salamanca, and had
taken a road trip with some Spanish friends. We had traveled down to the
south-central area called "La Mancha," made famous long ago in a novel about
a deluded peasant who thought he was a knight and who fought windmills
because, to him, they were giants. The area was flat farmland, except for
one lone hill. It had been visible for miles and miles as we had driven down
the bumpy two-lane road. When we finally reached it, we felt as if we had
been transported back in time. About a dozen windmills stood along a narrow
path at the top of the barren hill. And at the crest lay the ruins of an
old, old castle, long since crumbled; yet, nothing existed to remind us that
we were in the modern age, and not in the 16th century.

I had been exploring the castle, climbing over stones and ducking under
arches, when I had slipped and fallen. So it should have been dark. Dark
beneath the ground. And cold. It had been a chilly, breezy day, even though
it was June, but I felt warm now.

I opened my eyes again. There were lights on a ceiling. Lights. Little
rectangular yellow ones like running lights on the floor of an airplane. But
these were on the ceiling. Yes, a ceiling. My eyeballs felt like someone was
squeezing them against my skull. I shut my eyes.

And then I heard voices.

I had not moved because my head was still throbbing, throbbing enough to
make me feel like throwing up when I tried to lift it. So I listened, while
at the same time staying still and breathing slowly and deliberately, to try
to will the pain away, or to at least keep my lunch down.

And then the voice again, close. No, two voices . . . but what were they
speaking? Not English. And not Spanish. I didn't recognize it at all. I was
feeling so sleepy now . . . I opened my eyes again, squinting through the
headache. And I would have laughed, if it wouldn't have hurt so much. Now I
knew I was dreaming. Dreaming and concussed, I figured. So I grinned at the
two faces above me. Two faces from a fantasy land when I had been 14, in
1978 . . . eight years ago . . . and obsessed with a sci-fi show called
"Battlestar Galactica." But why *those* two faces? Of all of the characters,
my mind had conjured up Bojay and Dr. Wilker.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Where the frak did *she* come from?" Bojay stared in disbelief at the still
form lying between rear shuttle seats and the back wall: a female, obviously
human, dressed in a blue, long-sleeved shirt beneath a loose-fitting red
top, with some sort of emblem and what seemed to be letters, and blue pants
of a different, unfamiliar texture. Finally, she wore brown, sturdy boots
with strings for fasteners. But she was most definitely human, with
straight, long, dark brown hair, a young adult.

Wilker could only shake his head in disbelief. There was no rational
explanation. None. People don't just materialize out of thin air, or appear
suddenly inside shuttles in deep space. No, it just doesn't happen. But it
had. Here she was.

It obviously had something to do with the anomaly and the strange pulse they
had just experienced. Wilker and two assistants had been taking readings on
a puzzling and inexplicable phenomenon that the last long range patrol had
discovered. Bojay had volunteered to be the shuttle pilot, out of curiosity.
It was some sort of fissure in the fabric of space itself, it seemed, that
pulsed in and out of existence, emitting garbled gamma transmissions when it
appeared for several microns before vanishing again. The anomaly was located
in the outer edge of a small nebula.

After several centars, the computer had been able to filter the
transmissions and the four Galacticans had stared in wonder and amazement at
visual transmissions from somewhere. The pictures were random, scattered,
and fuzzy, but the forms visible were unmistakably human. The brief scenes
seemed to be glimpses of people doing ordinary tasks on a planet. In one, a
child was eating round, colored morsels as strange symbols, probably words,
flashed across the picture. In another, they recognized three people
climbing out of some sort of four-wheeled transport.

In an attempt to better understand this bizarre phenomenon, Wilker had
launched a probe into the it. The moment the probe had entered the fissure,
though, all Hades had broken loose. Brilliant, colored lights had exploded
outward, then blinding white pulses, a maelstrom of energy, followed by
darkness, as all of the shuttle's systems had momentarily shorted out. After
only a few microns, the engines and all systems had whined back to life on
their own, because no one had had the presence of mind to yet move.

Staring back from his pilot seat, Bojay had said, "Lords of Kobol! What was
that?"

Wilker, unblinking, gazed at the space in front of them. "I have no idea . .
."

It had been in the following silence that the four had heard a low moan from
the rear of the shuttle. Bojay, warrior reactions kicking in, had hurried to
the back, weapon drawn, not knowing what to expect. But he had certainly not
expected the sight before him. Wilker had stopped behind him, staring, mouth
agape.

"She's hurt," Wilker finally said.

"Her clothes don't look like anything I've seen in the Fleet, or anywhere,
for that matter!" Bojay said, putting his laser away.
He was about to bend down when the girl's eyes fluttered open. She squinted
at them, then broke into a grin as her eyes rolled back, and she lost
consciousness again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Soft. Soft and warm. That was the first sensation I noticed as I woke up. My
eyes had the heavy, dreamy feeling where they refuse to open, no matter how
hard you try. I must be back in my hostel room, in bed, I figured. I didn't
remember how I got back. Wasn't I in a hole at that castle? My friends must
have found me and brought me back. I felt the sheets with my fingers and
startled. They felt funny, different, much smoother than the starchy hostel
sheets. Maybe a hospital, I thought, as I remembered how much my head had
been pounding.

I pried my eyelids open finally and looked around. Definitely not my room at
the hostel! But what --? Glass! In front of me! I was trapped! In a narrow
case - an enclosed bed. What the hell? Where was I? I banged on the glass. I
felt a sudden panic, like I was suffocating. An intense wave of
claustrophobia. I banged harder and started to scream. The glass opened.
Hands grabbed at me. I thrashed, terrified. It made no sense! A slight sting
at my neck, and all of the panic washed away, replaced by a dreamy numbness.
But I was still awake. The lid closed again, then the sensation of moving,
being pushed, rolled on the bed, rocking, as images and lights flashed by
above.

Then it stopped, and the lid opened again, but this time someone lifted it
completely off the bed and bright light flooded my eyes. I could finally see
more than just the windowed square that had been in front of me. People.
Two. Dressed in hospital sterile clothing, but different from any I had seen
on TV. They even wore goggles. Must be the latest in Spain . . .I felt so
numb and drugged, dizzy. Surreal and dreamy. I looked around to see a small,
small room with only a chair and a table, in addition to the gurney/bed I
was on. I saw two doors, one at the back of the room near some sort of
dispenser, and the other at what seemed to be the front, because the wall
had large window panels that looked out into another room. A room within a
room, in the hospital? Sterile. Why? What was going on!

The two doctors/nurses/attendants just stood and studied me. I raised myself
onto my elbows, and realized for the first time that I was wearing silky,
smooth, silver, almost metallic-like bed clothes, a long-sleeved top and
pants. The material was so thin but incredibly soft, even slippery, yet
comfortable.

I was finally feeling in control of my senses. My head no longer threatened
to explode, and the ache was just a dull whimper now. I no longer felt like
I was floating on a drug-induced cloud.  I finally felt conscious.  That is,
until I looked through the window to see four faces gazing at me.

"S***!"  I said.  Still a dream!  At least, my brain was pulling up more
pleasing memories, because gazing back at me were Commander Adama, Captain
Apollo, Lieutenant Starbuck, as well as Bojay.  It's just a dream, I
thought, so I stared, just stared, and marveled at how real they looked!

A moment later, I realized, the two medical people had left to join them,
pulling off their head coverings and goggles.  Ha!  Cassiopeia and Dr.
Salik!  Should I have been surprised?  I continued to watch, enjoying the
experience now, but wondering vaguely how or if I would wake up. . . but,
ah!  Apollo and Starbuck!  I didn't want to wake up!  So I just stared.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 "How is she?" Adama asked as Dr. Salik left the sterile room to stand next
to the commander.

 "She seems to be fine.  She suffered some trauma to the head, but we've
taken care of that.  She's a real puzzle, though."
 "How so?" Bojay asked, looking intently at the doctor.

 "While she is human, her genetic patterns match nothing that we have on
record for any of the Colonies, and there are enough physiological
differences to indicate that she is from a parallel race perhaps, but one
that is separate from any known to us."

 It took a moment for the impact of that statement to sink in.  "If she's
not from the Colonies," Starbuck finally said, "then where *is* she from?"
He turned to gaze through the clear panel at the young woman, who in turn,
was staring at them. She was quiet now, sitting with her knees pulled up and
her arms wrapped around her legs, long, brown hair falling over her
shoulders.

 "That's the real mystery,"  Salik said, shaking his head.  "Has Wilker come
up with any theories yet?"

 Adama was quiet for a moment.  "Yes."  He paused for several more microns.
"And we need to  ensure that this 'development' is kept in the strictest
confidentiality.  I've already spoken with Wilker, and his two assistants.
Dr. Salik, I need you to handle the matter with your staff here in the
Lifestation.  The fewer the people who know about this, for now, the better.
We don't have solid answers.  And a public leak could jeopardize the girl's
safety."

 "Oh, Lords!  Just imagine if the Council found out!"  Starbuck said, saying
out loud what all were thinking.  "They'd have representatives and the media
crawling all over the place!"

 "And that could be disastrous,"  Salik said.  "She's in a totally alien
environment.  We don't know what her immune system can handle, so she's
going to be confined in there for a while, until we can run tests and
gradually introduce her to our world.  Plus, it's got to be overwhelming for
her."

 Apollo gazed at the girl for a moment.  She was still just staring,
seemingly at ease, almost content, with a slight smile on her lips.  "She
doesn't look too upset anymore."

 "Probably culture shock," the doctor said.  "Let's not forget what happened
when she first woke up."  All four warriors had witnessed the girl's
terrified reaction to finding herself inside the decontamination tube.

"Well, we need to talk to her,"  Starbuck said, his impatience beginning to
show.  "We can't learn anything by just standing here."

 "True,"  Cassiopeia said, giving him a bemused grin.  "But it's highly
doubtful that she speaks Colonial Standard."

 "Oh, uh . . .right," Starbuck answered.  "So what do we do?"

 "Dr. Wilker is going to bring us a modified languatron,"  Adama explained.
"It will hook into the main computer here, and if we can get her to speak
enough, the computer just might be able to analyze her language and come up
with a workable translation database.  But we need someone to interview her
and encourage her to talk . . . one of the small group who know about her,
that is."  Adama's mouth twitched in the slightest of smiles.  "I don't
suppose any of you young men would be interested in this assignment?"

Cassie eyed the commander.  "Perhaps we should try a more gentle approach
before you unleash something like the 'irresistible Starbuck charm' on her."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~