Battlestar Galactica: Looking Ahead
Virtual Season 5, Episode 2
By Vance and Eric Paddon

From The Adama Journals

     I awoke this morning and for only a fraction of a micron did I
wonder if all that happened yesterday was but a dream.  A dream that
would have seemed even more unfathomable a yahren ago than the outbreak
of the Detente.  But the reality returned quickly.  The reality that this
morning we have entered a New Era in the saga of our journey across the
stars.  A New Era in which we have learned not simply the long-awaited
confirmation that the Battlestar Pegasus does indeed survive, but that
she is homeward bound to the Colonies to take part in a Resistance
movement that has developed in the nearly three yahrens since the
Destruction took place.  A movement that is aided in part by
"enlightened" Cylons, who like the crew of Baltar's baseship have turned
against the regimented order of the Imperious Leader and the Cylon High
Command.  A movement that also includes the newest passenger aboard the
Pegasus......my wife, Ila, whom I thought dead that night of the
Holocaust on Caprica in the ruins of our house.
     We learned yesterday that thanks to the use of ancient Kobollian
technology and paired with previously untapped Cylon technology aboard
the Baseship, it is possible for us to communicate with the Pegasus in
real time, albeit for limited periods due to the power drain issues that
accompany such transmissions.  And so, even though no physical reunion is
possible due to the incompatible nature of our respective journeys, we
will be able to maintain that contact on a permanent basis.
     The fact that physical separation remains a permanent reality is the
one element that tempers the joy of yesterday's news.  I felt it so much
when I saw Ila's face on the monitor just inches in front of me. 
Seemingly close enough to reach out and touch, yet neither of us could. 
She is now once again part of my life, and yet there will never be the
joy of feeling her tender touch or the constancy of her presence.  Not
unless she chooses to use the one thing she has at her disposal that
would make reunion with me possible, but at this time, that can not be. 
Ila has invested so much of herself in the Resistance these last three
yahrens.  Her goal in seeking me out originally was to see if I could be
persuaded to turn around and come back to aid in the struggle for our
homes.  Had Fate led her to me instead of to the Pegasus, I wonder if the
joy of our reunion would have been diminished by the realization that the
Destiny for myself and our Fleet does not lie behind us in the Colonies,
irregardless of what is happening there now.  Our Destiny remains on the
road that lies before us that leads to Earth.  On this.......nothing can
change.
     And so.....painful as the ongoing physical separation is for myself
and for Ila, we still find ourselves at peace with things as they are. 
We have learned that we must take joy from what we have which is the
knowledge that we are both alive and that we can still communicate with
each other.  This.....I am prepared to do.  We know that if we are to
enjoy the blessing of continued communication, we must not let the sorrow
over what we don't have, dominate our thinking. We must hold onto what we
*do* have, which is the simple joy of knowing that life does continue for
us.....and that it is possible for us to share with each other what life
still has to offer in our respective destinies.
     My children have reacted somewhat differently in the wake of our
joyous messages of reunion yesterday. Athena is overjoyed by the mere
fact that her Mother has been alive all this time and the lack of a
physical reunion is, seemingly - and strangely - not important to her.
Consequently, there is a new....dimension to her. One that makes me see
how after the pain and bitterness of the Destruction and its aftermath,
Ila's miraculous return has also brought with it the return of what
Athena was in those days: so bright and optimistic about the future.  She
is once again her mother's little Sunshine as she was always known in
those days.  
     Apollo though, by nature more introspective, seemed slightly
troubled by the fact that his Mother has chosen to remain with the
Pegasus and with the Resistance, instead of using the shuttle she still
has at her disposal to try and reach us.  This morning, he came to me,
knowing that he couldn't let this matter fester in his heart.  He spoke
of knowing, intellectually, why Ila would choose the path she has, for he
has always viewed his own service as a warrior as not just a patriotic
duty, but a spiritual one, and he sees a mirror image of that in her
sense of duty and obligation to the people she has selflessly worked for
these last three yahrens in the Resistance. It's only in the matter of
the heart - the heart of a son's love for his mother - that makes it hard
to fully accept. In that moment, I mentioned to Apollo that in a strange
way, he was not unlike Boxey in the painful period following Serina's
death. And that seemed to give him a new perspective on things. He
confessed that he expected me to give him some sound paternal advice but
nothing quite like that. I suggested that perhaps he could achieve total
catharsis by recording a message for his Mother that we can transmit
within the next sectan.  Although Cain has explicitly forbidden further
'live discussion' until after his planned strike on the Cylon outer
Capitol of Gomorrah, he welcomes our sending recorded message files over
the transmission bands in limited quantities. The Pegasus technician at
the other end will simply give a two word 'Messages received' response
and nothing else, so as to minimize power drainage. A similar policy will
be in place on the Galactica whenever message files from the Pegasus are
sent and received by us.  Apollo has agreed to my proposal and he left my
quarters a half centar ago, seemingly at peace in the areas he wasn't
last evening.  I believe that bodes well for matters that start from this
day forward.  And there is much that occupies my attention in this first
day of the New Era.
     To begin, I have a meeting with the Council in a centar's time to
discuss the ramifications of what the New Era means. I have little doubt
that my argument that our journey to Earth must continue in spite of the
circumstances we now know exists back in the Colonies, will not be
favorably received by some members of the Council.  In particular, I have
to see what sort of opportunity our devious, and in my private opinion,
traitorous Vice-President will try to seize with this issue. But this is
also an issue that will no doubt be argued strongly by those principled
men and women of our Council, and I owe it to them and - perhaps more-so
- to the people of this Fleet who will share their sentiments, to treat
their feelings with the utmost respect. Even as I also remind myself that
we also have our word to keep to those we have become responsible for.
     And then there are the curious revelations of the brilliant, but
socially awkward Copernicus yesterday. Both he and our wayward IL-series
Cylon 'refugee' Septimus were able to offer insight into the origin of
the computer virus that played havoc with Galactica's equipment not so
long ago. Far from a conventional type of digital malware, it is
rudimentary artificial intelligence, not at all that dissimilar from the
C.O.R.A. program created by Doctor Wilker.  Unlike the C.O.R.A., however,
this self-aware bit of code was programmed in Cylon machine language and,
according to Septimus, *not* by Cylons. In fact, Copernicus and some
associates in a 'hacker collective' discovered the so-called 'Specter
Protocol' in, among other places, computers tasked with controlling the
planetary defenses of each of the Twelve Worlds. 
     Branching off from that matter, he has also revealed to us yet
another seeming conspiracy leading to the Destruction that none of us,
not even Baltar, could fathom. What had once, perhaps shortsightedly and
in lieu of any more definitive explanation, been attributed to sabotage
at the hands of Baltar's former operative Charybdis, seems now to have
been the result of a sophisticated, co-ordinated effort on the part of
individuals far beyond Baltar's sphere of influence, and that the late
Sire Uri's collaboration with Baltar was a mere smokescreen for a
parallel plot of betrayal that had different - and, dare I say, much more
malevolent - goals and motives in mind.  It is now my unpleasant duty to
- yet again - lead an investigation into matters that preceded the events
of that horrible night.
     I am, after my conversation with Baltar, convinced of his ignorance
of this parallel plot and that he is indeed - with his good wife Ayesha's
help - doing his best in his own way to be a different man - a *better*
man - than he once was. He is entitled to my respect and my courtesy for
that, which serves to remind me that I must exercise caution in passing
judgment on others within our ranks that may be found to have abetted the
Destruction. Baltar's example is proof enough of how even those with a
hand in that greatest of crimes against humanity can find pathways back
to redemption, and I can no more arbitrarily cut off those pathways to
any who may be alive and living penitent lives of their own -
particularly given the state of affairs on our occupied home-worlds.  My
fear - and I pray to God that this not be the case - is that this
investigation will lead to the discovery of an even deeper rot in the
root of our civilization.
     Other more practical matters also need tending; we have every reason
to believe that we have ventured beyond the limits of the Risik domain,
though I'm troubled by the knowledge that their exploratory vessels
traversed as far as the region of Ki, Boron-Din and the unnamed world of
hostile weather where the Pegasus acquired the means to communicate with
us via the Baseship.  What these beings lack in technological prowess
they more than make up for in dedication and cunning, and it says
something about them that they were able to successfully navigate nearly
as far as the known limits of Cylon exploration across the so-called
'Bosaq Frontier', the somewhat lawless region near the RB-33 space
station, the domain of the Horks, the Brylon sector and the contested
area over which the Ziklagi and Zykonians waged war.  I'm keenly aware of
our resource requirements, as well as our speed limitations and the
continued maintenance issues that plague the bottom third tier of our
Fleet so well illustrated by the recent engineering troubles aboard the
aging Piz Goria. Though preliminary scanning reports show a system just
head of us on our Earthbound heading where we could resupply, recharge
our energizers and even refit some of our most vulnerable ships, I
believe that final evasion of the Risik requires that we not only bypass
this system, but push our Fleet to its limits in moving on to the region
ahead.  
     Despite these challenges, I can't help but look ahead with great
optimism. Once, prior to our arrival at Kobol, I recorded in these logs
that my faith in the wisdom of our course was secure even in the absence
of a definite sign, though I prayed with all my strength for one all the
same. Since then, my faith has been affirmed with more than one definite
sign, but with the revelations of the past twenty-four centars I feel
*rewarded*. My spirit feels rejuvenated, and though I admit it may be due
to irrational exuberance, I can't help but believe we are on the cusp of
a pivotal event that will bring us closer to the end of our journey."

Chapter One

     Commander Kevin Byrne, USN, captain of the Constellation had risen
early in the cycle so he could shuttle over to the Adelaide for a private
meeting with his old friend Cedric Allen.  The Australian was waiting for
him with freshly prepared cups of Colonial java.  
     "Afraid I don't have any salt on hand to make it US Navy style,"
Allen apologized as he handed him his cup, "Hope it's good enough."
     Byrne smiled thinly as he took it, "Nineteen years of no coffee
makes even the worst Navy blend taste like nectar," he then sat down
across from his old friend.  "You know why I wanted to talk to you."
     "Yeah," Allen nodded, "Last night's speech by the Commander
was......pretty dramatic."
     "And it's not just because they know this other battlestar they've
talked about, the Pegasus, is still alive," Byrne took a sip of his java. 
"It's the other news about the.....Resistance movement back in their home
worlds.  I don't think anyone was prepared for that."
     "You've got that right," the Australian admitted.  "I saw Doc Rena
in the hallway this morning and she looked like she was still in a daze. 
Turns out she has at least three family members who are conceivably not
dead if this Resistance movement is as active as the Commander indicates
it is."
     "Big question, Ced," he set his cup down.  "Did she give off any
vibes about wishing she could go back?"
     "I know why you're asking that, Kevin.  But honestly, I couldn't
tell if she is thinking about that.  I think for most everyone who has
family back there, it's still too early to tell what they think about
that.  The existence of the Resistance is still too much of a shock to
their systems.  They need to give it some time."
     "Then what's your gut instinct about how they'll feel once they've
had time to digest it?" Byrne persisted.  "Will they accept Adama's
insistence that we have to go on and there's nothing more they can do for
them except wish them Godspeed?"
     Allen looked quizzically at him, "You sound like this whole thing's
spooked you a good deal."
     He took another sip of his java and nodded grimly, "It has.  It's
not that I don't trust Adama.  I think Adama's committed to Earth.  But
you can damn well be certain that other people he has to deal with won't
be so accepting."
     Allen knew right away who Byrne meant and he wondered if he should
mention the name of the person in question.  He decided candor dictated
it.  "The Vice President of the Council."
     "Oh yes," the contempt dripped heavily from Byrne's voice, "It's the
perfect issue for that bitch to use to drive a wedge in the population
between them and Adama, and by extension between the Colonial people and
us."
     "I can certainly believe she'd try and do that.  But do you really
think she'd make much headway?  Do you really think the Colonials would
want to take the risks of going back to be part of this Resistance?"
     "I don't know," Byrne conceded as he continued to hold his cup, "I'm
sort of.....trying to put myself in their shoes and think how I'd react
to it.  And that's why I'm feeling nervous because I can see how good
people could be swayed into doing that.  And if that happened, where
would that leave us?"
     Cedric Allen frowned, "Wait a second.  You're assuming that if they
decided they *did* want to go back, that we'd be forced to go along with
them?  I'm not sure I'd agree with you there."
     "I don't see how we'd have any choice if it came to that," the US
Navy commander grunted as he finished most of his remaining java but for
a few drops at the bottom of the cup.  "Not unless you think we could
make it back to Earth all by ourselves with just the Constellation and
the Adelaide.  And if the Colonials wanted to go back that would mean
nearly all the people we depend on to fly these ships would go with them,
leaving us with just the freed prisoners from Ne'Chak and a handful of
others with no vested interest in going back like the Risik defectors. 
We might as well be signing our death warrants if we got forced into that
position."
     "I think you're being too paranoid about this, Kevin," the
Australian gently cautioned him.  "Adama's not going to let that happen
to us.  He's a man of honor."
     Byrne let out a mirthless smirk, "And he also has a wife he thought
was dead who's going in the opposite direction."
     Allen could tell that his friend's pessimism wasn't going to be
dispelled at this point.  He knew he had to change gears and get them
into a more pro-active frame of mind.
     "What do we do in the meantime?"
     There was no immediate response.
     "Kevin?" he prodded.
     "I guess there isn't much we can do," Byrne sighed, "All we can do
is watch and wait, for now.  I would recommend that you have some of the
people you trust  most keep an eye on how the Colonials in general are
reacting to all this.  Just get a sense of their.....attitude and if they
suddenly start acting less than friendly.  Because if someone like that
snake Lydia were to start raising all kinds of shit about how we're the
only thing keeping the Colonials from reunion with their loved ones and
liberating their homes, that's when we might start seeing trouble."
     "I read you," his long-time friend said, "But let's try to stay
low-key about this.  It's way too early to press the panic button."
     Abruptly, Kevin stiffened slightly and Cedric right away could see
his friend's hand shaking as the cup spilled out its last remaining drops
of java over the edge.  Immediately, the Australian knew that he'd chosen
his words poorly.
     "Kevin, I didn't mean----,"
     "I know you didn't," he said quietly as he managed to set the empty
cup down on the table and took a breath, "I know you didn't, Ced."
     He said nothing more as he rose and left the room. 
     *My God*, Cedric Allen thought.  *After all these years he still
blames himself for what happened when we went through the wormhole.  He
still thinks it was all his fault.*


      Adama eyed each member of the Council as they filed in to the
Chamber and took their seats, examining them closely for indicators of
support or hostility.  Aside from a sympathetic glance from Siress Tinia,
he saw absolutely nothing to tell him how many potential dissenters he'd
be starting with.  
     For a fleeting instant, he found himself wondering how the Virgonese
Siress reacted when she'd heard him reveal in his remarks to the people
that his wife was, in fact, alive. The last three yahrens had seen his
mind entertain thoughts - never acted on - of reaching out to Tinia in
ways he...... hadn't.  Thank the Lords.  
     It was no slight on Tinia.  Though their working relationship hadn't
begun on the best terms, she was now a cherished ally on the Council and
a dear friend.  Still, he was grateful that he'd exercised
self-restraint, difficult as it had occasionally been.  In remaining true
to Ila, their joyous reunion hadn't been sullied by what would have been
an awkward complication.  
     He pushed those thoughts away, grateful for one less complication as
he brought his gavel down and declared the meeting in session.  After the
customary pleasantries and parliamentary matters, he delivered a general
overview of the situation beyond what was laid out in his address. He
then added the new details that came from the 'official' messages Cain
and Ila had sent that outlined in greater detail everything the Pegasus
had experienced over the last two yahrens, as well as the nature of the
Resistance movement and pledged to have personal copies of both messages
in audio-visual form as well as transcripts prepared for each Councilor
as soon as possible.  That settled, Adama declared the session open for
discussion. 
     He expected Lydia to make the first move, but the Council
Vice-President was silent, sitting back in her chair with the most
neutral of expressions. Instead, the first comments came from elsewhere.
     "Mr. President?"
     "Sire Xaviar," Adama motioned his gavel toward the Gemon.
     "Mr. President, I'm at something of a loss to understand this......
seemingly arbitrary decision of yours given the revelations of both
Commander Cain and your wife----,"
     Adama abruptly cut him off with a gentle rap of the gavel.
     "Sire Xaviar," Adama kept his tone gentle but forceful, "in the
interests of preserving the dignity of these proceedings, please refer to
her as Professor Ila."
     The young and handsome Councilman who had been elected to the seat
that had once been Sire Anton's, blinked slightly but then bowed his head
respectfully.  
      "I apologize for my lack of decorum, Mr. President. No offense was
intended."
     "None was taken, Sire," Adama replied after a micron's pause.
"Please proceed."
     "As I was saying," Xaviar continued, "while I welcome the happiness
we all feel at knowing the Pegasus is alive and that we have a consistent
ability to communicate with her, I must confess I'm not *entirely* clear
as to why we must remain committed to a path that endlessly takes us in
the *opposite* direction," he stated with a forcefulness he'd not often
displayed before the Council.
     "Please understand," the Gemon continued, "I don't mean to question
your judgment on this," he went on, "but doesn't this new information
about significant numbers of survivors and an *active* Resistance
movement - which, can you all *imagine*? - includes other rebel
Centurions not unlike the ones in our own ranks......" he let the
question hang in the air, pausing as if to try and contain some deep
emotion. 
     "Forgive me, my brother members of the Council," he resumed, more
composed; "I tend to not to be as... emotive as most of you, but I find
it difficult to contain my elation at this news! We all privately hoped
that some among those left behind escaped the Edict of Extermination but
did any of us dare consider that the current state of affairs was
possible?"
     "You needn't apologize for that, Sire Xaviar; do continue," Adama
prompted.  He took note of the barely contained enthusiasm several of
their fellow members were trying - and failing - to conceal.  He's going
to have his supporters. Damn.
      "Certainly, Mr. President," the Gemon nodded, and then briefly
bowed his head. After a micron, he firmly pounded the table a single
time, and then started to circle the table, slowly passing behind each of
the member's to Adama's left. When he came to a halt beyond the table
exactly opposite of the Council President, he spoke again - albeit with
his back to the body.
     "It's apparent that Commander Cain believes there is a *legitimate*
possibility of turning the tables on the Cylon Imperious Leader and
reclaiming our homes," he offered, in his typical conversational manner."
     Then he turned around, extending both arms to his fellow members as
if pleading for them to embrace him and asked, with conviction, "does
this *not* change *everything* we've been thinking about our own Destiny
these past three yahrens?"
     Rather than answer immediately, Adama allowed the Council members
several microns to ponder the question, again gauging their nonverbal
responses.  While not all seemed convinced, a growing number were clearly
struggling to find a reason to question the merit of his plea.  And to
his amazement, he could see that Lydia was maintaining a perfect Pyramid
face.
     "In what way, Sire Xaviar?" Adama asked, gently. "Our quest has been
based on the need to find a home for our people where they can live
*safely* once again from our ancient enemy - the Imperious Leader, and
those forces loyal to him. Now we learn that his Empire is in disarray,
seemingly without the ability to continue their genocidal pursuit of our
Remnant. If anything, this news is cause for celebration that Earth will
*truly* represent a chance to experience life anew when we arrive."
     "Mr. President, our quest began because we believed our worlds were
irreversibly lost to us," Xaviar retorted. "Now we learn that it's
possible those worlds can become ours once again, thanks to this noble
and heroic Resistance that Professor Ila has been a part of and which
Commander Cain is leading the Pegasus towards! Is it unreasonable to ask
*why* we can't lend ourselves to this movement as well?  And, instead of
continuing this search for a planet that, the more we learn about it, has
few - if any - *true* connections to our culture, are we not better
served by turning around and joining the fight to reclaim *our* planets?"
     "I have neither suggested - nor would I suggest - that asking the
question is unreasonable, Sire," Adama said, gently, "but it does *not*
change the situation as it is."
     "And, pray tell, why not, Mister President?" Lydia interjected for
the first time with a cool, casual air. "Are we shackled to some kind
of...... obligation to continue to Earth no matter what?"
     Before Adama could reply, Siress Tinia interjected; "And what are
you defining as an 'obligation', Siress Lydia?" she challenged, refusing
to address her by her formal title.  She had long since come to the
conclusion that Lydia's continued presence on the Council was like that
of a growing cancer.  Though she didn't want Adama to know the length and
breadth of her feelings on the matter, she was convinced that Lydia
needed to be ousted from her position as Council Vice-President.  She'd
already spoken with Pelias about the matter, but the two realized that it
wasn't yet time to act.  Not when it would mean at least nine votes to
bring that about which she knew was impossible at present.
     "I  think that's obvious," Lydia was unfazed; "Our President
presumably believes that we owe something to the tiniest fraction of our
population, regardless of how the overwhelming majority might feel."
     And not long ago, she was gladly exploiting the leader of that "tiny
fraction" for her own purposes until he got wind to her true nature, 
Adama thought with disgust.
     "I beg your pardon, Siress Lydia; I wasn't aware that your staffers
had engaged in any polling during the less-than-twelve centars that these
matters have been revealed, or that the results revealed the mood of an
'overwhelming majority' of our people," Tinia retorted.
     "I'd also consider, *Siress* Lydia," young Sire Pelias interjected
with clear distaste, "that most among us would argue that the people from
Earth are owed a lot more than, among others, hardened criminals from the
Prison Barge."
     The obvious reference to Charka wasn't lost on the rest of the
members. Lydia glared at the Councilman who was romantically involved
with Jena Byrne but Sire Xaviar cut in before anything else could be
said.  
      "I would respectfully ask my fellow Councilors," Xavier
interrupted, glancing each at
Pelias, Tinia and Lydia in quick succession, "that they leave any
personal matters between them out of a discussion of such seriousness."
     He is his own man, Lydia couldn't help but think. I can't ever let
him think otherwise if he's to one day serve *my* purpose!
     Xaviar refocused on Adama as he stepped back to his seat; "Mr.
President, let me be blunt: I understand we have an obligation to our
Earth cousins and their well-being, but do *their* interests outweigh our
own? Is their mere presence in our ranks the *only* reason we have to
rule out the question of going back? *That* is what I'm having a hard
time grasping, and I think, though I freely admit I've not yet had my
people conduct any public polling, that my sentiments are felt by many
others who have learned that their own family members might be alive just
like Professor Ila has turned out to be alive, only for any chance of a
reunion with them to be *arbitrarily* denied."
     He's different, Adama thought, ignoring the appeal to emotion.  His
argument is wrong, but he's arguing from *principle*.
     "Sire Xaviar," Tinia cut in, "I think you just summarized the very
reason why Commander Adama's decision hasn't been arrived at lightly and
is neither arbitrary, nor is it bound by any mere technicality as you
seem to think."
     Xaviar looked as if he'd been stopped cold. He held up his hands,
appearing chastened. "I am not suggesting that our President *hasn't*
been forced to experience any personal pain himself on this matter," he
said. "My concern is that this decision has been arrived at too quickly -
and without the opportunity for input from this body."
     Adama, hoping to close discussion on the matter sooner rather than
later, decided to play his best gamble.  
     "I assure you, Sire Xaviar, that my decision has *not* been arrived
at arbitrarily, nor are the people from Earth in our Fleet and what you
term 'their interests' the *only* reason we should remain committed to
our course - a course we've been committed to since before their arrival.
If you would like to see a thorough analysis of the dangers posed by
turning the Fleet around and going back through the Risik frontier,
unstable regions of the former Bosaq Empire, space contested by the
Zykonians and Ziklagoio, not to mention Ziklagi territory engulfed in
their civil war, to say nothing of the full-fledged war zone that is our
home quadrant, I will have our Fleet Intelligence Unit prepare one."
     Lydia scoffed. "As if we can't already guess what's going to be part
of such an assessment."
     The majority of the Council members may not like Lydia, but if they
think she's making arguments they agree with, they'll continue to hold
their noses and back her...... Xaviar is clearly going to be the key,
Tinia considered over more than a few microns of uneasy silence,
realizing just how formidable the task of ousting the Aerian Siress from
the Council would be.
     "Mr. President...... *Commander*," Xaviar appealed, "I do *not* mean
to sound as though I'm turning a blind eye to the difficulties such a
decision presents. Consider, though, that the Pegasus is a *single*
battlestar, tactically outclassed by Galactica, undermanned and not even
able to field an entire attack squadron, and yet she charges toward home
in the manner of her mythic namesake, to Hades Hole with the
consequences, full turbos ahead!"
     "You're forgetting, Sire, that the task of the Pegasus is
significantly different than our own," Tinia said, knowing it was
dangerous to be condescending to the Gemon. "Not only are they much
closer to our home quadrant - presently between Terra and Gomorrah - but
they don't have the burden of shepherding more than two-hundred ships
carrying seventy-thousand civilians!"
     "Hear, hear!" Sire Chan softly added, making his presence known for
the first time and where his sympathies lay.
     Xaviar gave Tinia a look that was still deferential. "I grant those
distinctions, Siress Tinia; now consider *these* facts: the Cylons sent
two baseships into the same contested and untamed regions of space and,
we now know, were able to completely avoid contact with those most
formidable of potential adversaries, the Zykonians and Ziklagoio. And, as
Commander Cain's message revealed----"
     Lords, no... Adama had hoped this wouldn't come up.
     "...the *significantly* less formidable Risik were also able to
cross those regions using one of their smaller exploratory cruisers! And
here we are, with the greatest of the Colonial battlestars - the class of
known space for a billion star-maxims......"
     "Yes," Sire Hanlon said under his breath, already impressed with
what he was hearing, "YES!"
     "... two vessels in the Constellation and Adelaide that are,
roughly, equivalent to that of a Colonial Battlecruiser, *and* a fully
crewed and armed Hades-class Baseship manned by Centurions who have
already thrown off the yoke of the Imperious Leader...... *surely* such a
task force of capital ships has the potential to make an even greater
impact on events in the Colonies than the Pegasus alone could!"
     Adama prayed, silently, for both fortitude and that he find the
right words to respond to this unexpected enthusiasm from Xaviar.  This
could not be done with disrespect or condescension because he could
easily see how such sentiments could strike a chord with so many people
in the Fleet - especially those who might well learn in the near-future
that their loved ones still lived.
     "Your points are all well taken, Sire Xaviar. Let me offer some of
my own. It is true that both Baltar's vessel and his support Baseship
were able to evade detection as they crossed the same region between
where we destroyed a Sonus-class Baseship just over two yahrens ago and
the region where space station RB-33 is located. As Siress Tinia pointed
out, they were able to do this not just because they were not responsible
for the defense of a convoy of significantly slower, less-reliable,
unarmed passenger ships, but because as long as there was stellar matter
to fuel the fusion process within their gravetic stardrive system, the
range of those ships was effectively *limitless* - and that's not taking
into account that their crews required practically no 'life support'.
And, yes, a Risik exploratory ship was able to travel from some unknown
sector of space relatively close by to the so-called "Weather Planet" we
visited shortly after the Zohrlochs joined us. Now consider: the Risik,
while not as formidable as, for instance, forces loyal to the Cylon
Imperious Leader, have support throughout the region directly in our
wake. They have a sizeable population spread across at least a dozen
planets, resources and a manufacturing base. They are not nomads-"
     "They fled their home planet, Adama," Lydia remarked.
     "... and, as with the Cylons," the President continued, ignoring the
Aerian as though she wasn't even there, "their Star Force does not have
as its primary duty, the protection and care of a large group of civilian
passenger vessels, *none* of which, it bears repeating, by themselves
have either offensive or defensive capabilities on par even with the
ships in use by the 'significantly less formidable' Risik. I submit, my
brother and sister Councilors, that Sire Xaviar makes a valid point
regarding the relative superiority of Galactica, the Baseship,
Constellation and Adelaide. That said, they are, as was once pointed out
to me when I remarked on our assumed tactical superiority, but *single*
warships, each of which is capable of being overcome perhaps not by one
or two or even a small squadron of attackers in same class as, for
instance, a Risik assault cruiser. But, again, the Risik have the benefit
of numbers - possibly hundreds, as well as nearby support."
     "None of which served them especially well in our liberation of the
Earthers from Ne'Chak, Mr. President," Xavier asserted.
     "Indeed, Sire, but the small number of vessels present during that
event were *not* the sum and total of their assets, and the Ne'Chak
system is not their only outpost in local space. We surprised a small
number of ships ranging from vastly inferior to just slightly below our
class with a perfectly executed precision strike they never saw coming.
More recently, better sensors and the element of surprise allowed us to
dispatch a relative few attackers. Were *we* to be besieged in a sneak
attack by a larger force, our technological advantages do not guarantee
victory. *Five* battlestars, taken by surprise, were wiped out by the
fighter complement of a *three* baseships at Cimtar, you'll recall."
     "I hardly need to be reminded of that, Mr. President," Xavier
replied, trying not to sound irritated. "I am more concerned with looking
at the end game that's being presented to us, where the element of
surprise would be completely with *us* in our ability to aid the
Resistance; *that* is what I believe we should focus on."
     "But we would *not* have that element with the Risik if we were to
suddenly make our way back through their domain. If anything we would be
playing into their hands since it can be assumed they have *not* been
idle in trying to devise military strategies to compensate for our
superior firepower. That is the greater issue that mitigates the
instinctive - and, I grant you completely understandable - desire to turn
back and help the Resistance. I might also add that passing through this
region of space again would not bring with it automatic access to
supplies of food and fuel we relied on in the past."  
     There was no immediate response from Xaviar, his enthusiasm
seemingly spent as if he that now wasn't the time to press further.  
     "You were mentioning," he finally said, with none of his earlier
bombast, "a report from the Fleet Intelligence Unit on the military risk.
I trust that report can be presented to us in a timely fashion?"
     "I will see to it that is," Adama said, feeling as though the worst
had passed. "And I trust that you and all other members will maintain an
open mind regarding their report?"
     Not wanting to let Lydia make another interjection that he wouldn't
have considered helpful, Xaviar quickly spoke, "I'll be happy to study
any report from Major Croft's unit, Mr. President, provided we have the
ability to analyze *their* analysis, and, perhaps, subject the authors of
the report to questioning on the record."
     *Cross-examination, in other words.*
     "I'm certainly amenable to that, Sire," Adama replied.
     "Very well," the Councilman said. "I've nothing else on this
subject..... for now."
     Adama nodded, "We will now resume the regular order on our schedule,
beginning with the procedures for how members of our population will be
able to send their own messages to friends and relatives aboard the
Pegasus..."
     The rest of the meeting proved uneventful. By the time Adama had
gaveled it to its conclusion, he felt some measure of relief that things
hadn't gotten too far out of hand and that he'd been able to successfully
counter the points Xaviar had attempted to make. 
     For now.
     Xaviar's arguments were valid - to a point.  The Galactica *was* the
class of known space -with the possible exception of the Ziklagoio 
Dreadnaught class.  The Baseship was part of a class considered the most
powerful ever conceived while the Constellation and the Adelaide met or
exceeded the capabilities of several other types of Colonial 'cruisers'. 
     Still, Adama would never forget the allusion of the, 'wolf-pack and
the bear'; any of their capital ships could easily prevail against half a
dozen Risik ships of the various classes they'd encountered, but what
would they do if a second force assaulted the civilian ships while
Galactica and the others were engaged? Thousands could lose their lives
in an instant. Surely a former warrior like Xaviar understood that! And
how had he so easily discounted monumental task of fueling and
maintaining their ships, not to mention feeding their passengers?  
      And what of the long term?
     Though he longed to put ever more distance between the Fleet and the
Risik, he knew the likelihood of them catching up was low, even if they
did choose to stopover in the system ahead. His greater concern was what
happens a generation from now. Absent either their complete subjugation
by the Ke'zar or a grass-roots revolution staged by their dissident class
it was all but inevitable that, should their current leadership remain in
place, they'd eventually turn their attention back towards Earth. 
     And now, that fight was the Colonial Union's fight. 
     The Commander wondered, for the first time, whether his actions in
dealing with these people since Sergeant Wagner's rescue had been the
right ones.  His earlier optimism seemed to disappear as he considered
that, from here on out, a decidedly rougher road lay ahead on the
political front.
     All of that though, still remained longer-term items.  As he walked
the corridors back to his quarters, he knew a number of short-term
matters now required his attention.  Matters that carried their own
potentials for trouble that needed to be straightened out as quickly as
possible.


     "You made your arguments quite eloquently."
     Xaviar smiled at Lydia with a none-too-trusting look as they made
their way down the corridor that led to the Landing Bay.
     "I made them for *myself*, Lydia.  The fact that they happen to be
the views you've chosen to latch yourself to for now are entirely
coincidental."
     "Oh?" a playful edge entered her tone, "You think I wasn't sincere?"
     The young councilman stopped and looked her over, "I'm not sure what
to make of you, Lydia," he said.  "It wasn't too long ago that you were
quite close to Commander Byrne.  I can't imagine you'd be backing my side
if things were still......close between the two of you."
     She wrinkled her nose disdainfully, "Perhaps my being close to dear
Kevin at one time is the reason why I now feel persuaded that your course
of action is the one we *must* follow.  Especially when the stakes are so
much higher for our people."
     "Mind you, I'm no fool on the risk factor it would take to go back,"
Xaviar cautioned.  "I hope your reasons for supporting me aren't simply
rooted in your desire to be on the opposite side of Adama."
     "Does that really matter?" she smiled, but there was a pointed edge. 
"The art of politics means forming alliances any way you can get them."
     He smiled at her, but with the air of caution and not that of a man
who felt he had yielded any ground to her. "We should perhaps discuss
this some more over lunch on the Rising Star."
     And then he added firmly, "In the Main Dining Hall."
     "But of course," Lydia nodded and they resumed walking.
     *Next sectan it will be my chambers!*

Chapter Two    

     "How long has he been like this?"
     Doctor Wilker looked over the inert form of the IL-series Cylon
Septimus, his head still connected by optical data network cable to a
portable memory node, the blinking lights which were assumed to mimic the
firing of neurons in a living brain being almost imperceptible compared
to their normal appearance. 
     "Centars... since the Commander's address to the Fleet. I asked him
about some... I assume they are - or were - some sort of 'beings' he
referred to as 'the Makers' he's mentioned a few times. I'd assumed that
they were original organic Cylons, but he spoke of them with a sort of
reverence you wouldn't associate with people you massacred in a
revolution. He was starting to answer the question, then... then he
'glitched out'."
     Croft's eyebrow rose at the choice of grammar.
     Wilker sighed. "*Malfunctioned*."
     "But he had presence of mind to ask you to connect him to an
analogous memory node?"
     "Yes! First he said he was experiencing some sort of 'malfunction' -
his word - and then he mentioned something about his 'deep memory', how
whatever was happening gave him access to information that had been
hidden from him. He said it's happened before, but he only remembers it
when it happens. That didn't make a whole lot of sense, but I figured
that if he wanted to connect to a data node he was trying to preserve
whatever 'hidden' information he was accessing, and if there was
something we could make use of, all the better. So I connected him and he
went into this 'standby' or 'partial hibernation' mode as he called it."
     "And this happened *after* you'd directly asked him about these
'Makers'?" Croft probed.
     Wilker nodded. "I thought maybe I'd 'triggered' something by
directly asking about them. Prior to that he'd only casually mentioned
them the same way we might casually say, 'Thank the Lords', or, 'Good
Lords!', or some such... That's how he sounded to me when he'd refer to
these 'Makers'. For all that he acts and interacts with us like a fellow
human, I don't think he's ever spent any great amount of time *with*
humans, and it seemed odd that Cylons would have a concept analogues to a
Deity that would come up casually. So I asked him, 'Who are the Makers?',
and then..."
     Croft inhaled, deeply. For all the work with Septimus that was
paying dividends, he wasn't sure how to handle a 'glitching' robot - if
that's what was happening.  Even so, given what he knew lay before him in
his new task as head of the FIU, he would need someone with Septimus's
analytical powers.
     "I'm going to assume he's not going to stay in this.....standby mode
forever and that at some point, he's going to come out of it," the Major
said.  "For now I suggest we keep this from the Commander and let me
proceed as though he'll be ready by the time I have to get cracking with
the FIU as a whole.  Buzz my com-line if the situation changes and if it
hasn't by the end of the cycle, I'll come back and we'll try to figure
out where we go from there."
     "No problem," Wilker sighed, "If he stays this way, I'll feel afraid
to pull him out from the data node.  It might crash his systems
permanently."
     Croft managed a smile, "Try to stay optimistic, Doc."


     "Sire Anton's shuttle just arrived, Commander," Athena's voice came
over the vidcom-line to Adama's quarters.
     "Have him escorted to the Officers Club to wait there until I'm
ready to see him," her father said as he settled himself back behind his
desk, "I have two other appointments to take care of and I don't want him
to wait outside my quarters.  I'll send word when I'm ready."
     "Yes, sir," his daughter then smiled brightly, "It's a great day,
isn't it?"
     He returned it, "It is indeed."
     Ila's little Sunshine, he sighed as he settled back in his chair
after the communication had ceased.  How I've longed to see her that way
again.  And now she's back for good.  It's so wonderful to see the impact
seeing her Mother again has had on her.
     The door chimed, "Enter."
     Lieutenant Castor, the head of Colonial Security entered.  Adama
noticed that his hair was slightly disheveled and his uniform not
completely pressed.  He'd known the lieutenant had been on furlon the
previous day and if the rumors he'd heard were true, it had likely been
in the company of Sergeant Lauren Wagner.  Which itself offered a
reminder to Adama of how deep the bonds had become between Colonials and
Earthers that it made the mere idea of turning back inconceivable.  
     "Reporting for duty, sir," Castor said.
     "At ease.  Thank you for coming, Lieutenant.  There's a new matter
that's come up that I want you to look into personally.  It's to be
regarded as First Priority.  Barring of course any unexpected military
emergency that would force Elite Squadron's activation."
     "Yes, sir.  Komma did text me that it was about something Copernicus
had spoken to you about yesterday but I don't know the details."
     "Komma will fill you in," Adama pulled out a sheet.  "First off,
what is the present assignment of Security Officer Micah?"
     Castor lifted an eyebrow, "Micah?  Well, most of the time he's
responsible for guarding Septimus and pushing him around whenever
Wilker's done with him in the Lab.  But since Wilker's been keeping him
there the last few cycles, Micah's off-duty right now.  The duty watch
reports he's gone to the Constellation."
     "The Constellation?" the Commander frowned.  "Why would he be
there?"
     "Well.....for a family visit, sir.  I thought you already knew."
     "Knew what?"
     "Captain Dante is his brother."
     "Brother?" Adama hadn't expected that as he opened up a folder on
his table, "That's not mentioned in his service record."
     "Well I don't think his record was updated on that.  Apparently he
and Dante only learned they were brothers a few sectars before the
Destruction.  But the relationship isn't a secret among those who know
them."
          "I see.  So......that means Captain Dante is also connected
with Micah's......father?"
     "Well......yes.  But I don't think that's particularly relevant as
far as the Captain is concerned."
     "No, I suppose not," Adama admitted.
            "Is Micah under suspicion for anything?"  Castor still wasn't
sure where there was going.
     "No.  But Sergeant Micah is a person of interest regarding these
matters Copernicus talked to me about.  And that's why it's important you
have him report to me as soon as possible."
         "Immediately, sir?"
     "Well.....not quite immediately.  I have two other appointments I
need to keep first, but I suggest you notify the Constellation and tell
them to have Micah report back to the Galactica in no more than a centar
from now and when he returns, he's to report to me.  If I'm out or am
still in conference, he's to wait at my convenience."
     "Yes sir, I'll see to that immediately."
      "And there's one other thing," Adama handed him a sheet of paper,
"These are names Copernicus mentioned in his statement yesterday.  I want
their files pulled so that no one but you and Sergeant Komma can formally
access them.  Any other attempts by anyone in the division to access
their records will be blocked."
            As soon as Castor saw the two names on the list he
immediately understood, "You mean you don't want Sergeant Micah to be
able to access their files."
     "For the time being," Adama said cryptically.  "Carry on,
Lieutenant."
     "Yes sir," Castor saluted and departed.
     Odd, Adama mused as he digested the news Castor had shared about the
previously unknown connection with Captain Dante.  It seems like there
are more complex layers to this whole business than I ever expected there
to be.
     Five centons passed and his next scheduled visitor had arrived in
the form of Major Croft.
     "Good morning, Major," Adama rose to greet the dual head of the
Special Forces detachment and the reactivated Fleet Intelligence Unit.
     "Sir," Croft shot back, coming to attention.
     "At ease.  Thank you for coming.  I think you know why I've asked
you here."
     "Yes sir.  This concerns the FIU report you want commissioned.
     "Yes.  This is basically finalizing the details of what I'll be
expecting from your team, Major.  This is going to require a lot of
intense study and analysis and I expect you to have contingencies in
place for making sure the study isn't interrupted in the event you're
needed for Elite Squadron."
     "Well sir, I intend to make sure all members of the team will be
focused on this.  Including if I may say sir, Commander Septimus."
     "Yes.  I assume you've discussed the matter of Septimus with Colonel
Tigh?"
     "Yes sir, because as I understand it this is a matter that he'd be
responsible for presenting to Command Centurion Moray directly."
       "Elaborate, Major."
     "As you know we've drafted Septimus into service with the
intelligence unit. He's been... vocal... *very* vocal about renouncing
his former allegiance, but I think to make it even more clear to our own
rebel Centurions that he's in a subordinate position, we should offer
them a chance to be involved. They'd have the ability to keep an eye on
him - so to speak - though what I'm really looking for is a... well, a
different perspective."
     Adama considered it. "I'm not opposed to allowing a Centurion to
serve as an intelligence analyst, but I'm not sure what you mean by a
'different perspective'."
     "Standard operating procedure within a working group in intelligence
back home was to assign multiple analysts, all of whom had a similar
understanding of the subject matter and who were of one mind on the best
way to approach it, then add in a final operative whose task was to
ignore the consensus and examine the matter from every other angle, no
matter how seemingly bizarre. We called them 'Contraries', and they were
typically people you might think of as... a little different. I actually
thought Copernicus might be a good fit for this sort of work but, I think
we'd get a lot of maximage out of including a Centurion in the process.
As much as we've come to see them as more than simplistic machines, they
interact with their environment in a way that's highly Contrary."
     "Well.....I'm not averse to it.  And I assume Colonel Tigh agreed
with your presentation too.  So now it comes down to a question of
whether Command Centurion Moray agrees or not."  He paused, "Incidentally
Major.  If Moray does have objections, I don't want you to go around him
to Baltar to get him to overrule Moray."
     "Absolutely not, Commander," Croft shook his head.  "We understand
completely the need to avoid Baltar's input on this.  Besides, I don't
think any of our team members would be able to hold our tongues
and.....I'm aware of your desire that we do so when it comes to him."
     "I'm glad you do recognize that, Major," Adama said with gratitude. 
"Baltar will never be liked by any of us, but we have to respect him and
acknowledge that he has delivered on what he promised.  And that's why we
have to make certain things don't get complicated for him as far as our
direct relations with his crew is concerned."
     "Of course I'm sure the news about there being more enlightened
Cylons in the Empire will give them an incentive to cooperate even more
with us," Croft let out a chuckle.  "I still can't get over the news
about that."
     "Well it's true, Major.  Where that leads to ultimately, only the
Lords know." his voice then regained its firm edge, "Now......getting
back to the general parameters of your assignment."
     "Yes sir," Croft said with anticipation.
     "What I need from the FIU is the most thorough presentation on the
overall military dangers the entire Fleet would confront in a
hypothetical scenario of turning all of our ships around and going back
to the Colonies to join the Pegasus in the Resistance effort.  And when I
say thorough, Major, that means I want every last speck of knowledge
there is about Risik military strength factored in but then you're to go
beyond the Risk danger.  I want you to factor in the military threat that
would exist if the peace between the Zykonians and Ziklagi have collapsed
and we were to face a renewed danger in the Ziklagi Frontier.  And I want
you to also factor in the dangers posed by fully operational Cylon
strength that still exists between Gomorrah and the Colonies.  I think in
those areas, the input from Septimus and a so-called 'Contrary' will
really prove beneficial."
     "That's a tall order, sir," Croft didn't hide his surprise at how
extensive the task that had been presented to him was, "If we're supposed
to factor in maximum Cylon strength between Gomorrah and the Colonies it
sounds like you're assuming the Pegasus wouldn't be able to clear the
Quadrant themselves."
     "This report will make it clear to those who think it would be easy
to turn and go back just how serious a situation it is that not even the
Pegasus can guarantee success," Adama sighed, "Cain clearly intends to
move on Gomorrah.  And while he didn't say so explicitly, I think it's a
safe assumption that his next target would be Cannes Garrison."
     Croft let out a low whistle.  "That's really going to take a big
effort on his part.  Isn't there some civil war going on there among the
natives?"
     "Yes.  Local collaborators with the Cylons enslaving their brothers
who resisted.  It's a very complex matter compounded only by the presence
of the largest Cylon garrison between the Colonies and Gomorrah.  That
was why I made sure the Fleet bypassed Cannes completely when we were
traversing that region.  Of course the consequence of that was the Fleet
running out of fuel just before we encountered the Pegasus near
Gomorrah," he paused, "Can you do all this and have it ready for
presentation to the Council in no more than three sectans from now?"
     "It'll be done," the Major said.  "We'll get cracking on it
immediately."
     "Thank you, Major.  I'm glad we can make use of your analytical
skills for something like this."
     Croft at first seemed ready to salute and indicate he was about to
leave, but then he stopped and decided he needed to say something else.
     "Commander......before I go, there's one other thing I have to bring
up.  It concerns the fact there's still been no change regarding the
command of the Century."
     Adama said nothing at first.  This was a delicate piece unfinished
business concerning an incident from more than a yahren ago.  From an
incident that took place even before the first major upheaval to the
lives of the Fleet in the form of the Detente.  An incident that now
seemed so remote and nearly forgotten to all.  But not to Croft, who had
been impacted the most by it.  
     "I haven't forgotten my promise on that point," the Commander
finally answered him.  His voice gentle and sympathetic.  "I've
appreciated the fact you understood why that matter couldn't be
implemented immediately.  The military situation took on an unexpected
twist, first with the Detente, then with everything that happened
afterwards, culminating with the Risik.  It simply wasn't the right time
to have one of our most important ships placed under a new commanding
officer."
     "Yes, Commander I have understood that.  No matter what I think of
the man I still regard to be Colonel Alesis and not Captain Betz, I can't
question his competence under battle conditions during a military crisis. 
But now that we've put the Risik frontier behind us, I think maybe it's
time you come through on your promise to relieve him and finally settle
the matter of......." he paused as if he was struggling to form the next
words in his mouth.  When they came out the contempt was evident. 
"Commander Maris, once and for all."
     "Captain Janus is undergoing command training to eventually take
over as the new commanding officer of the Century," Adama said.  "When
that process is complete......*and* when it's absolutely clear we won't
be turning back, then I can finally relieve Captain Betz as promised. 
But if we were forced to turn back and go through the Risik frontier
again.....you can understand why that would complicate the matter
further."
     "Yes, I do, Commander," Croft nodded, "I want you to know it's not
that I wish the man ill or anything like that.  I know his role in the
whole affair was secondary to that of Maris, and he did come through and
put an end to Maris, but......so long as he's still in command of the
Century it makes the whole matter seem unfinished to me.  I need closure
for that, sir.  That's the only way I can finally put the past behind me
for good."
     "And you'll get your closure," Adama promised, "You have my word,
Major.  It will be done.  No one suffered more from Commander Maris's
treachery than you did, and it's why I won't be deterred by any pressure
I might face into letting Captain Betz maintain his position when the
time comes."
     "I trust your word, sir.  You've more than once proved its worth to
me." he finally gave the commander a proper salute, "I'll get started on
the FIU report immediately.  We'll meet your deadline with time to
spare."
     "I trust your word....Major," Adama smiled faintly with
encouragement which Croft returned before departing.  As soon as he was
gone, the commander turned on the vid-com to the Bridge.
     "Inform Sire Anton he can come to my quarters now."


     Cassiopeia wondered if she should disturb Sheba.  For endless
centons she'd been sitting in her cart looking at the sleeping form of
her newborn daughter Bethany inside the Life Station incubator with an
air of perfect, blissful peace and serenity.  It was enough to make the
blonde doctor feel guilty over the idea of disrupting a new mother's
moment of happiness.  But.....there were too many things both
professional and personal that dictated otherwise.
     "We've got a crib set up in your quarters now," she said.  "You and
Little Bethany can be discharged by the end of the cycle.  A med-tech
nurse has been assigned to help you and Apollo for the next sectar."
     Sheba took a micron to respond but she didn't turn around, "I don't
think we'll call her Little Bethany," she still sounded lost in her
joyous reverie.  "Bethany Two or Bethany the Second seems more
appropriate."
     "That's up to you and Apollo," Cassiopeia said and then decided it
was time to test the personal matters, "How did your father seem to you
last night?"
     "Exactly as I knew he'd be," Sheba's eyes were still trained on her
daughter.  "I'd already had a......preview of sorts."
     "I believe you," Cassiopeia smiled.  "It.....turned out to be
everything you could have imagined it to be, didn't it?"
     "Even more," Commander Cain's daughter nodded and then slowly turned
around and looked at Cain's former girlfriend, "How was it for you?"
     "I was probably more nervous because I had no idea what to expect
from him," Cassiopeia admitted.  "Whether he thought I was still waiting
for him all this time or if....I'd learned to move on from him."
     "And you made it clear without being.....explicit."
     "Yes.  That was why when I came into the picture I made sure
Starbuck was next to me.  It sent a kind of.....silent signal," she
paused and then added, "Your mother-in-law also kind of defused things by
doing all the talking with Starbuck first.  It didn't leave Cain too much
time to chat with me, but.....I did hear him say quite emphatically to
both of us, 'take care of each other.'  I don't know if Starbuck noticed
that, but......I came away thinking he approves of the fact we're still
together."
     "Speaking of Starbuck, where is he today?"
     "Well, he's got the day off from liaison duty on the Baseship after
all the work yesterday to help get the communications relay set up.  As
soon he takes care of some personal business elsewhere in the Fleet,
we're going to have what he's calling a 'very important dinner' on the
Rising Star tonight."
     "Really?" for the first time Sheba had shifted her full attention
away from watching her baby, "You think he....may have something
important to say to you?"
     The blonde doctor laughed, "Sheba, you *know* I don't play those
kind of games.  Especially when it comes to Starbuck.  If something like
that were to ever happen, it'll be the perfect surprise because I didn't
do any speculating beforehand."
     "And I won't do any false encouraging," Sheba said.  "What's this
'personal business' he's attending to?"
     "Darned if I know," she shook her head, "All he'd say is that he had
to go to the Malocchio and then once he was done there, he'd meet me on
the Rising Star tonight."
     "The Malocchio?" Sheba lifted an eyebrow, "You mean he's
seeing.....Ama?"
     Cassiopeia hadn't expected to hear that, "I didn't make the
connection, but......I guess that's probably it.  Maybe it's something
leftover from that whole business with that.....succubon I think it was
called."
     "Or something else," Sheba sighed, "Conversations with Ama are
seldom about idle chitchat.  I know that for a fact."
     "Really?"
     "After the whole succubon business, I......had a conversation with
her about......things."
     The doctor frowned, "When did you find time to go over to the
Malocchio?"
     "I didn't," she said simply, "And let's just leave it at that. 
Suffice to say......the way she knows certain things and can have a
certain......insight about matters beyond what we can understand is
something you just can't ignore.  She's proved more than once that when
she has something to say.......it's worth listening to."
     "And Starbuck needs her advice about......something?"
     "Maybe," she shrugged, "But my advice to you, Cassie is......don't
ask him why he saw her-*if* he saw her--unless he volunteers it.  Just
enjoy your dinner with him."
     "I intend to," the blonde doctor said emphatically, "I *intend* to."


     "Adama, old friend, it's been too long," Sire Anton, the retired
Council member and one-time aide to the late President Adar had that
perpetual twinkle in his eye as he and Adama shook hands.
     "Too long indeed," Adama smiled as he motioned him to sit down. 
"Can I offer you a drink?"
     "Oh, I'm afraid those days are behind me, Adama.  I've learned at
this stage of my life that one doesn't need the temptations of strong
drink to enjoy oneself."
     "I'm glad at least you're enjoying retirement," Adama was getting a
reminder of how Anton's genial disposition always made him an effective
aide because it meant that whenever he had tough advice to offer, it came
off in a way that most would find palatable and not be angry about.  This
time though, he'd be talking to Anton about the one notable time in his
career when his advice hadn't been taken.
     "I don't miss being on the Council in the slightest.  Given the
turbulence of all that followed after the Detente began and our first
wave of elections......it might have been too much for my system.  The
dose of younger blood like Sire Xaviar was just what was needed."
     "You think highly of him?"
     "He's a man of principle, Adama, without being a fool.  That means
he'll fight for something he believes in with tenacity, but he won't try
to leave behind a path of destruction if he finds that he can't prevail. 
If he knows he's going to lose a battle......he'll come to accept that
sooner than later."
     That's reassuring.
     "As long as you mention that......it may interest you to know that
young Xaviar's reaction to yesterday's news was that the Fleet should
turn around and return to the Colonies to join the Resistance movement."
     Anton let out a hearty chuckle, "Is that what he said?  Well, Adama,
I admire his youthful zeal, but that's really all that amounts to. 
Grateful as I am to know there are many survivors fighting the good fight
still, that's now much too far away from us to do anything about at this
point.  Kobol know *I* don't have the zeal for it.  I'd much prefer to
spend my final days on Earth where things are bound to be
less.....hectic."
     "No family members of your own to think of?"
     "None," he shook his head, "I've been the lonely widower for quite a
few yahrens and we were childless.  No, Adama, I have no ties left to the
Colonies.  I realize of course that those who do have family to think of
are in a difficult position as a result of this, yourself included."
     He nodded with a smile but said nothing.  Content as Adama was
inside for now over the situation regarding Ila, it wasn't a subject he
wanted to converse about in-depth with outsiders.
     "But I must assume you didn't summon me from retirement to talk
about these matters," Anton went on, "It must concern something only I
can help you with."
     "Quite true," Adama was glad things were moving to the heart of the
matter.  "There are some matters I need to discuss concerning your
resignation as Adar's chief aide, six sectars before the Destruction."
     The old Sire's white eyebrows went up, revealing his surprise, "My
goodness, Adama, this is the last thing I expected to revisit.  What
possible relevance can it have now?"
     "A good deal," Adama said.  "I'll explain.  First, I need to
reconfirm that your resignation stemmed from Adar's refusal to cut ties
to Siress Rosalind."
     Anton let out a guffaw and rolled his eyes as soon as the name was
mentioned.  "My, my, Adama, what an unpleasant memory you force me to
revisit.  There is perhaps no one in all my yahrens of public service I
ever came to hold in greater disdain than I did Rosalind.  Because of
her, a friendship of more than forty yahrens I'd had with Adar came to an
unpleasant end.  It still grieves me that the last words I ever exchanged
with Adar were hostile ones."
     "Then the stories in the press about their relationship were true."
     "*Completely*, Adama.  Who do you think was the inside source for
all those stories?" Anton chuckled without mirth.  "It wasn't very
sporting of me, I admit.  But I thought I was doing it for Adar's own
good.  When I saw he was still wrapped around her little finger and
taking seriously the idea that she could be a member of the Council in a
post-Armistice universe, that's when I knew I'd reached the end of the
line.  To keep my sanity, I thought it best to resign and go into
retirement.  The irony of course is that my decision to resign saved my
life since I otherwise would have been by Adar's side on the Atlantia
when the attack happened."
     "But it wasn't just the relationship that bothered you.  It was also
the influence she had over him regarding the Armistice talks."
     "Oh yes, that too.  I had this terrible feeling she was pushing him
along to be too trusting of Baltar's reports on the Armistice
negotiations.  And she kept cuckolding him with all kinds of sweet talk
about how Adar will be remembered as the greatest leader in Colonial
history for bringing about an end to the thousand yahren war.  It was
absolutely *nauseating* to see all of that."
     Adama brought his hands together, "What would you say, Sire Anton,
if I were to tell you that we have evidence to indicate Rosalind was
involved with a treason plot on behalf of the Cylons, independent of
Baltar's?"  
     There was no change in Anton's expression, nor did the retired
Council member utter a sound for nearly a centon.  Finally, he broke it
with a single sentence.
     "I think I'll have that drink after all."


     "This is Copernicus's full statement, sir," Sergeant Komma handed
Castor the report he'd prepared the previous evening.  "It's quite
extensive and......highly technical."
     The Security Chief began to leaf through it and immediately his eyes
widened, "Lords of Kobol, you're not kidding.  'Specter Protocol'? 
Hacking collective?  What kind of felgercarb is this?"
     "Well.....apparently it has to do with both the matter of where that
virus problem we had some time back came from........and a treason plot
before the Destruction that doesn't have anything to do with Baltar."
     Castor looked at him dubiously and slowly closed the folder.
     "Looks like we're in for a very long day," he sighed, "Tell the
Bridge to send a priority message to the Constellation that Sergeant
Micah is to return within the next centar.  And pull up the files
on......Ensign Miranda and Technician Meshach."


     At that moment, aboard the Constellation, Security Officer Micah was
enjoying his lunch meeting with his brother and his brother's wife.  The
events of the previous day had led them to rearrange their schedules so
this get-together could happen.
     "You actually got a personal message from Skyler?"
     "Yep," Captain Dante, the Constellation's Executive Officer was
still coming to terms with everything that had been revealed the previous
night, "He took over as Strike Leader after Sheba and Bojay were
evacuated."
     "I can't imagine what he's gone through in all this time."
     "According to him, not as much as you'd think.  Until Adama's wife
was found by them and they learned about the Resistance, they'd been
playing a two yahren game of stealth all throughout the quadrant.  They
haven't fired a shot in anger in all that time."
     "Geez," Micah shook his head, "I hope that doesn't mean they've
gotten rusty."
     "I got to admit, that has me concerned," Dante folded his hands,
"Given how Hunley and I are both experts on having our flying skills get
rusty."
     His wife, Lieutenant Hunley, gave him a reassuring tap on the
shoulder.  That was always her cue to him to treat the subject of their
pasts and the reasons why both of them had gone through lengthy
suspensions from flight status, with no bitterness and total good grace.
     After all, Micah thought, it sure beat being convicted of a
termination charge!
     "Didn't you save Skyler's life once?" Hunley asked.
     "Yeah," Dante nodded, "We were in the same Academy Class.  And
during our first Baptism of Fire ritual, I saw that he'd slipped up and
allowed a Cylon to get clean on his tail.  He couldn't shake him off and
that meant unless I caused a distraction, he was dead.  I raced in front
of the raider's line of fire and exposed my tail engine so that his shot
hit me in a non-lethal spot.  That caught the Cylon off-guard and it gave
Skyler enough time to perform a reverse thrust and then catch him from
behind."
     "The glorious IM button," Hunley sighed, "After all this time, I
*still* don't know what that stands for."
     "I think there used to be contests on that.  My answer was always,
'instant mong'," Dante laughed which Hunley and Micah joined in on as
well.  The security officer was enjoying the easy conversation with his
brother and sister-in-law.  Technically, he and Dante weren't brothers by
blood, but that was an immaterial detail to both of them.
     "I don't know what part of the whole story yesterday surprised me
more," Dante went on, "It was just one thing after another.  Being able
to communicate with the Pegasus from so far away.  Finding out there's a
Resistance back home.  And finding out this phenomena of disloyal Cylons
is contagious."
     "If it's happening on Caprica it's surely happening on Gemon too,"
Hunley said, her voice suddenly more distant and philosophical, "I wonder
if it's possible that......." she trailed off.
     "What?" Micah knew they were headed into delicate matters and that
he'd have to tread carefully, "That the Otori are taking part it in too?"
     "I'm not thinking about the Otori in general," Hunley said in what
sounded like forced neutrality about the sect she had been born to and
eventually escaped from, though it had come at considerable cost to her. 
A cost that ultimately included being forced to kill a sect member in
self-defense who had tried to force her back into the Otori's ways. 
"Though I hope if there are any left alive on Gemon they've learned the
need to be more......cooperative for the sake of the greater good.  I was
thinking more about whether.....Anders, might still be alive."
     "Magdalena's brother?" Micah asked.
     "Yes.  I was with her last night when the Commander gave his speech
and it was the first thing out of her mouth when the revelation about the
Resistance came.  Given his background, it's certainly easy to imagine
him escaping capture and surviving all this time."
     "Maybe in the future the Commander's wife can elaborate on the
Gemonese situation," Dante said.  "I got the sense it's not just a
Caprican operation."
     "If we're going to be able to send messages back to the Pegasus,
maybe you could ask Skyler what he's found out," Micah suggested.
     "Possibly.  It's certainly a good place to start."
     Hunley was looking slightly askance.  As if at that moment, another
idea for how she might be able to ascertain the truth about her third
cousin was going through her mind.
     But it was an idea she could only express to her husband  in
absolute privacy.  Or her own sister, Lala, or Magdalena herself.  Micah
wasn't supposed to know about the thing that made her different from all
others of Otori background.  The fact that she had extraordinary gifts of
telepathy.  The lack of candor with Dante's erstwhile brother on that
point hadn't been an easy subject, but she felt it was for his own good
that Micah remained ignorant of that detail until the time was right. 
Even after her marriage to Dante, that time hadn't arrived yet.
     Maybe this is the event that forces the issue, she thought.  Because
maybe.....I might be able to find the answer about Anders without waiting
for something from the Pegasus.
     But that was something she'd have to think more about later.
     "Of course that brings up another point," Micah noted, "Since there
is a Resistance movement going on back home......then what's to stop us
from turning around and going back to join it?"
     Dante's eyes widened as if he'd just heard an idea that had never
occurred to him.  His eyes then carefully began studying the nearby
tables that were filled with Constellation personnel enjoying their
meals.  Many wearing the uniforms of the service branches they were
attached to on Earth.
     "I'm not sure we can even consider that," the ship's executive
officer finally said.  "That would mean...... forcing them to go along
into something that isn't their fight."
     "That's true," his brother conceded.  "Still.....it does present
something of a dilemma for a lot of us, doesn't it?"
     "I guess," Dante conceded, wishing the subject hadn't come up. 
Hunley had also grown quiet as though she didn't want to discuss it
either.  Slowly, they shifted the conversation back to more happy topics
as they finished their lunch.  Micah had just downed the last of his
drink when the sound of  Commander Byrne's voice on the unicom filled the
ward room. 
     "Attention.  Security Officer Micah of the Galactica is to report to
the docking area upon completion of his meal.  Take no longer than thirty
centons to acknowledge this message."
     "Now what can that be about?" Dante frowned, "Couldn't be an
emergency or they would have demanded you drop everything right away."
     "But clearly something important," Micah sighed, "Since I'm just
about done anyway, I think I'd make a better impression on them if I went
down there right now. 
     "Glad we could get together," Hunley said, "Maybe next time Miranda
can be here too."
     "Yeah, I'm sorry she couldn't make it either.  She said she drew
patrol this morning with one of the other new graduates."
     "Ensign Luana," Hunley nodded.  "They've shown real good promise in
the Viper training program.  I think Miranda's going to make a fine
pilot."
     "I'll tell her all about your vote of confidence," Micah rose, "See
you around."


     Airman Brandon Reynolds, USAF, was seated alone at the table
directly behind Dante and Hunley, separated by a matter of five feet. 
Had someone joined him for lunch, as was usually the case, he would have
been sufficiently distracted and not given in to the temptation to
eavesdrop.  He could still remember his South Carolina grandmother, as
fine a woman of good, proper manners there ever was, giving him a
reproach on how there were certain things one *never* did, and that
especially included listening to things that were other people's
business.
     But the former prisoner from Ne'Chak was troubled.  Troubled by the
subdued expressions he'd seen on multiple Colonial faces throughout the
Constellation since Commander Adama's speech the previous evening.  He
could still recall how the excitement over the fact that contact had been
made with the Pegasus had given way to a more stunned surprise with the
next revelation about a Resistance movement in the Colonies.  And he
could still remember one face that almost seemed to grow angry when Adama
had announced that the Fleet would be continuing to Earth.
     It was enough to make the young airman who came from South Carolina,
but who had been abducted by the Risik while serving at an Air Force base
in Washington State, wonder if all of his optimistic hopes and dreams
since the liberation from Ne'Chak were now at risk.  That
perhaps.....there was a possibility that he might not be seeing home
again after all.  If the Colonials felt strongly about the need to turn
back....then they'd do so. 
     *And where would that leave the rest of us?  Forced to fight *their*
war?  How different is that from being a prisoner again?*
     The conversation he'd just listened in on didn't make him feel any
better.  Captain Dante's dissent on the idea of going back had sounded
so.......mild.  Too mild for Reynolds' taste.  He would have preferred a
more forceful sounding dissent.  The words of the other man at Dante's
table (who was unfamiliar to the Airman) had only made things worse with
the observation that the matter was a "dilemma" for the Colonials.  
     *They shouldn't see us as a dilemma.  They promised us we'd go home. 
That should be the end of it.*
     His Grandma, he knew, wouldn't have been pleased, but Brandon
Reynolds intended to keep his ears open to see just how far this
sentiment went.  And if it would get any worse from his standpoint.

Chapter Three

     Adama's meeting with Sire Anton had lasted an additional twenty
centons.  Long enough for him to bring the retired Council member up to
speed on what he'd learned the previous day from Copernicus.  It had left
President Adar's one-time aide in a state of near speechlessness.  Even
though he had felt such intense dislike and contempt for the woman he
felt had led his good friend Adar astray, the idea of her willingly
serving the Cylon cause, and independent no less of Baltar's plot, was
beyond anything his sharp, capable mind would have conceived.
     "I saw her as just a failed educator trying to grasp at her one
chance for fame and power," Anton said, "The idea that she could be
*that* devious would have meant she had more intellect than she ever let
on."
     "I'm not saying she was running this plot," Adama cautioned.  "This
appears to have been organized by Sire Uri.  And that requires additional
explanation.  You know that Uri committed suicide just before the
Detente, but......you've never heard the reason why."
     When he was through relating the details about the murder of a woman
named Rose as well as Uri's own nephew and wife, Anton seemed spent. 
"Adama.....the more I hear these unpleasant things revealed that escaped
my attention, the more I realize that Adar's failure wasn't unique.  We
were *all* afflicted by it to one degree or another.  It's enough to make
me see that our Destruction was almost a foregone conclusion."
     "Perhaps," the Commander conceded, "Whatever the case, it's
important for us to learn from our mistakes and in the process make what
we ultimately achieve for ourselves on Earth, a more hopeful outcome. 
Not to mention providing some valuable insights to our brothers trying to
turn things around back in the Colonies.  That's the reason why its
important for us to get to the bottom of all this."
     "I'm sure," Anton sighed, "I wish I had more to offer, Adama.  But
I'm afraid I don't.  You mentioned the name of Baltar's cousin, Count
Mikkos as one of Uri's collaborators, but I have to confess I only met
him at Adar's two Inaugural ceremonies and I don't think I exchanged more
than a few pleasantries with him.  I wouldn't be able to help you there. 
Nor that other name you say this Copernicus mentioned, Ashera.  It's
unfamiliar to me."
     "Ashera is the name of a woman who served on Adar's Intelligence
briefing team when Baltar was sending him dispatches about his talks with
the Cylons," Adama said.  "Does that jog your memory?"
     Anton shook his head, "I remember Adar had an intelligence team
drawn from various agencies, but I wasn't familiar with any of their
names.  I don't even think I looked at their reports because I was just
going by my own instincts about how something didn't seem right with the
Armistice talks."
     "And you've told me all you can about Rosalind?"
     "I would suggest you have a talk with Tinia about that.  She....was
more acquainted with Rosalind than I was on a personal level." 
     "Was she?" this was news to Adama.
     "Oh yes.  You see, before Rosalind started making a nuisance of
herself that drove me to resignation, I never dealt with her directly. 
It was more a case of having to face Adar in one of his lovesick moods
and dealing with the effects of that.  In those earlier days, I played
matters more cautiously by avoiding direct confrontation with Rosalind,
because I knew if I did confront her, she'd likely complain to Adar about
it, and I would have found myself out of a job."
     "But.....if you were the source of all those stories in the tabloid
press about Rosalind.....how did you find out about them?"
     Anton let out an almost impish chuckle, "From a number of sources I
tracked down on my own time and initiative.  One of whom was Tinia."
     "I see," Adama mused, "Then it will be necessary for me to talk to
her.  Her insights regarding Rosalind and......the other parties I've
mentioned would be very helpful."
     "You might be able to take care of that today," Anton said, "She was
in the Officers Club when you summoned me here and I was enjoying a most
cordial chat with her."
     "Thank you for letting me know that," he extended his hand, "Your
yahrens of service to our Nation have been admirable and with
distinction.  May the Lords grant you more yahrens for us to keep drawing
from your insights."
     "May they grant me enough yahrens to see Earth," Anton took it. 
"It's been an honor seeing you again."
     "And you, my friend."
     As soon as Anton had departed, Adama then checked with the Bridge to
see if Siress Tinia's shuttle had left the Galactica.  Upon hearing that
it had not, he then gave orders to have her meet him in the Council
Chamber room within the centar.
     *And now for the rest of the story.*


     Captain Leyland, master of the Colonial merchant freighter Paz Goria
had begun his cycle concerned that his crew of fifty-five might not be at
their peak standards of efficiency owing to the Fleet's celebratory mood
of the previous night.  The news about the Pegasus had only rated at most
a mild reaction of "that's nice to know" from him that he'd promptly set
aside in the name of getting back to work.  Not even the news about the
Resistance movement had made that great of an impression on him.  As a
thirty-yahren veteran of the Colonial Merchant Service before the
Destruction, Leyland had spent most of his entire life away from the
Colonies transporting freight to various planetary systems that enjoyed
relations with the Colonial Nation.  The twelve worlds had thus never
been "home" to him in any sense.  For him, home was whatever ship he
happened to be serving on in the environment of space travel that he
found more natural than living on a planet.
     The Paz Goria, along with its identical sister ship Piz Goria, were
both old veterans of the Merchant Service, having been commissioned over
forty yahrens ago to carry medium-ranged interstellar freight shipments
to planets as far away as Borallus.  On the outside, both looked ugly and
bulky but on the inside the ships were considered model examples of how
to maximize cargo at the fastest possible speed, resulting in peak
efficiency of operation and higher levels of profits for the Colonial
shipping interests that hired them out for jobs.
     Since the Destruction, both ships had been forced to alter their
functions to accommodate living space for survivors they'd gathered from
the planet Sagitara, where both had been at the time of the attacks. 
Leyland, who had spent two unhappy yahrens of his youth as a steward on a
passenger ship had grumbled at first about the Paz Goria's change of
purpose since as far as he was concerned, he was a freight master, and
not a cruise line skipper.  But he was still a patriot who knew what his
duty was and he never let his grumbling get in the way.
     The recent addition of new ships from the Eirenians had allowed the
Paz Goria and her sister ship to transfer many of the surplus passengers
they carried to better accommodations.  That meant they could slowly
transition back to becoming full time freighters once again with living
accommodations only for the designated crew who worked on them.  By this
point, Paz Goria had undergone approximately 75% of its transition
process, and as the numbers climbed higher, the happier it made Captain
Leyland.
     But there had been some pitfalls along the way for both ships, one
minor for the Paz Goria, and one major for the Piz Goria.  For Captain
Leyland's ship it had come in the form of a faulty sensor that for six
long centars had convinced them they were suffering a major water leak
from a source they couldn't pinpoint.  
     That had been a mere nuisance though compared to what took place
aboard Piz Goria the following sectan.  A worn-out power relay had caused
a serious malfunction in the ship's engines bringing the freighter to a
halt.  Just at a point when the Fleet was at the trailing edge of Risik
space and found themselves under attack once again by their enemy of
recent sectars.  Fortunately, protective cover from the Constellation had
kept the ship free from suffering any potential laser fire, and Chief
Twilly had been able to facilitate repairs so the Piz Goria had emerged
from the experience with no casualties.
     Nonetheless, the incidents on both ships had left Captain Leyland
feeling more antsy about the health of both vessels.  Before the
incidents he'd taken pride in the durability of both vessels and how
they'd endured so much over decades of faithful merchant service and
nearly three yahrens now in the ultimate challenge of a deep space convoy
across the galaxy.  He was beginning to feel doubts about the ability of
these vessels to endure for the long-haul.  Not without the kind of
overhaul that ships of the Fleet didn't have access to any longer. 
Despite the presence of industrial and maintenance ships in the Fleet,
the available options were still quite limited compared to what both
ships could rely on back in the Colonies every few yahrens.
     This morning, he'd begun his inspection on the Bridge making it
clear that he wasn't going to tolerate idle chatter from his crew about
the events of the previous night, or anyone lost in thought over the
prospect of relatives still being alive in the Colonies.  He wanted
everyone to be at absolute ramrod attention with their eyes wide open and
their mouths closed.
     The crewman at the Flight Engineer console, which monitored all the
mechanical sensors and functions of the Paz Goria caught Captain
Leyland's attention.  His name was Hadley, and by nature he was the kind
of crewman who never said a word when he was on duty.  Even when the ship
found itself thrust into battle conditions and facing attack, whether
from Cylon, Ziklagi or Risk forces, he never said a word or seemingly
showed any emotion.
     This morning, Leyland got the sense that Hadley's mind was
elsewhere.  His eyes were open and dutifully staring at the monitoring
systems of the ship.  But his overall posture seemed too slouched
compared to what Leyland had seen in the face.  And the eyes had an
almost.....faraway look.  As though his mind was someplace else.
     Ten yahrens as a licensed master had conditioned Leyland to know the
look of a daydreamer when he saw it.  If it were any other day he might
have let it slide but after all that had happened yesterday, he was
convinced a statement needed to be made and right away.
     "Hadley!" he barked, which totally caught the Flight Engineer
off-guard because in four yahrens service, he'd never been addressed by
the Master in this fashion.  It caused him to spin to the left in his
chair so he could face Leyland.  But in doing so, not only was he no
longer looking at his console, but the  console from Leyland's angle was
completely blocked out.
     Consequently, as Captain Leyland delivered his ten micron lecture to
Hadley neither man, nor anyone else on the Paz Goria's Bridge saw the
brief flash of two warning sensor lights which ordinarily would have
constantly flashed to indicate the problem they had just detected.  Only
this time, the lights flashed just once.....and not again.
     By the time a chastened Hadley had turned back to face his console,
this time with a more erect posture and his eyes staring intently at the
monitors......everything was normal.
     But it would not stay that way aboard the Paz Goria for much longer.


     "I hope this isn't imposing on you, Tinia, since I'm sure you're
anxious to get back to the Rising Star," Adama said as he sat down at the
head of the Council table.  The room was empty except for Tinia who was
two seats to his left.  Just far enough for there to be a respectful
distance between the two, but not too far.
     "Nonsense, Adama," the Virgonese said, "When Anton told me you'd
summoned him, I wondered if I might get a chance to talk to you about
that.  It looks as if my hunch was right."
     "Yes, it does concern what Sire Anton and I discussed.  This may
take a while because it involves some very complex matters.......which
must remain at the highest level of classification for now."
     "Of course," Tinia wondered off-handedly if this might be an
occasion where she'd feel compelled to tell Adama about her meeting with
Sire Pelias the previous day where she'd revealed her plans to try and
get Lydia removed from the Council, but without Adama's knowledge.  She
had no intention of lying to him if he had any inkling of what she had
been planning.  Though as a result of the turn of events that had
happened later, those plans of hers were on-hold for now.
     "Before I get into any of that, I was wondering what your
impressions of Sire Xaviar's conduct this morning was."
     "Well.....after being relatively quiet since his election, young
Xaviar seems to be asserting himself and not in an especially positive
way," she added.
     "He has the advantage of being driven by principle, or so my
instincts tell me. Unfortunately, principled or not, his belief that the
Fleet could easily make a return trip across the region between our
current location and Terra is simply wrong and impractical."
     "I agree, though I can understand his sentiments, as well as those
of our Remnant who may be thinking similar thoughts after last evening,"
Tinia replied.
     "It would be foolish to expect that such a sentiment wouldn't
manifest itself, though I admit I hadn't expected anyone to be so
vehement in expressing it, at least this soon. More than that, I hadn't
expected him to broadside me with the suggestion that staying true to our
current course was...... *easy* for me.  But, as I said, that isn't the
matter I wished to discuss with you."
     "Go ahead," Tinia said as she pulled out a bottle of Virgon Spring
Water that she'd taken with her from the Officer's Club when she'd
received her summons.  She unscrewed the top and took a casual sip. 
     "You're undoubtedly aware of the issues that have plagued the
Galactica of late due to a computer virus.  In the process of resolving
that, we were made aware of previously unknown details regarding......
*other* matters. I've asked to meet with you because according to Sire
Anton, you can provide me with some background on an individual whose
name came up in these revelations."
     A look of confusion crossed her face as she put the bottle down. 
She was aware of the details of the malware infection that had
temporarily crippled the great Battlestar as the Commander and had left
everyone baffled as to its cause for sectans.  But she couldn't imagine
what information she could provide on a matter related to that.
     For the next five centons, Adama relayed to her a highly abridged
version of the matter as presented in the report Komma had made from
Copernicus's account, but without mentioning the names of Copernicus's
friends Ensign Miranda and Technician Meshach.  From Adama's standpoint,
that part of the story wasn't relevant in terms of what Tinia could help
with and he was going to try and minimize the number of people who knew
about those names.
     "That's...... quite the tale, Adama; highly technical."
     "Both Dr. Wilker and Sergeant Komma's reporting on matters tends to
be," he replied, lightly. "Add Hummer, Septimus and Copernicus to the mix
and... well, the resultant headaches can be almost as bad as when the
bridge collapsed on me," he said, trying to keep up the levity despite
the seriousness of the situation.
     Then, as with Anton, he shared the details surrounding the murder of
Rose, the former investigative journalist, as well as certain elements of
his conversation with Baltar the previous day.  As Adama revealed the
sordid account, the Virgonese woman found herself silently threading his
remarks with things she already knew.  The Council, which at the time had
included Uri, became aware early on of the sabotage of the Colonial
Defense Network by Baltar's personal pilot Charybdis which helped
facilitate the Destruction; now to learn that the late Rose had, in the
course of investigating the events of that night, discovered video
evidence that Uri had known of all of it, and even contributed to the
effort and that he'd had Rose terminated to keep it all from going
public......
     "'I'd spend it quickly,'" Adama had repeated Uri's recorded words to
Charybdis, but for all the worlds Tinia swore she'd heard it in Uri's
voice.  When Adama was done, the Councillor felt a need to take another
sip of her water before continuing.
     "I... I don't know that I have the words, Adama.  That man sat in
the Council chamber as you relayed the details of Baltar's three centar
stopover in Caprica City on the night of the Destruction for Charybdis to
handle 'personal business' right as we later learned our defenses began
to fail.  I remember his expressions of revulsion, so similar to my own,
at what we were hearing, and I never suspected *for a micron* that he
wasn't completely sincere!"
     "Sociopaths often have that skill," Adama admitted.  "After all, he
fooled me into thinking he still had integrity lying underneath that
exterior of his, or else I wouldn't have approved his selection to the
Council.  He'd given my wife a glowing testimonial at her retirement
dinner from the Caprican Fine Arts Institute and I confess, I let my
memories of that unduly influence me."
     "And he and.....Baltar's cousin, Count Mikkos, were doing this on
their own......."
     "To the extent that they had their own operation *independent* of
Baltar's.  Baltar acknowledges that he informed them both of what he was
up to, but that he did that late in the game after events were well under
way.  He informed Mikkos only out of family courtesy and with Uri it was
a case of him wanting a "piece of the action" so to speak that his
interests would remain guaranteed in a post-Destruction order where the
Cylons would supposedly have human collaborators allowed to retain some
measure of local autonomy.  There is, admittedly precedence for the
Cylons doing that, as you're well aware, in the Cannes System."
     "And you believe Baltar's version of events?"
     Adama sighed, "I really have no reason not to, Tinia, for the simple
fact that Baltar has absolutely *no* vested interest in lying to protect
anyone else's reputation.  He's already received maximum absolution from
Colonial Justice so he gains nothing from protecting anyone.  The only
person who's reputation he'd *ever* lie about to protect would be Ayesha,
and it's already been proved she had no knowledge of anything he was up
to. 
     "I admit there are times I still can't figure out what Baltar's
motive *really* was," Tinia admitted.  "You've told me of Baltar's
confession on Kobol, which of course you put no faith in at the time, for
which you couldn't be blamed.  But then after his defection,  you told me
that he'd never really expected either Charybdis's sabotage efforts or
the Cimtar assault to succeed."
     "It's hard to fathom, I admit.  I once had a talk with Ayesha about
it, and she said he offered pretty much the same rationalization to her. 
That in an ideal situation, the course of events at Cimtar wouldn't have
resulted in our total Destruction but would have been a "wake-up" call to
Colonial civilization and we could have regrouped against that with more
vigor under more decisive leadership.  That of course would have
explained why he wouldn't have been sorry to see Adar killed even under
*that* scenario.  *But*.....if events spiraled out of control and a total
Cylon victory did take place, then he would have in theory, so he
thought, the perfect back-up plan of his deal with the Cylons where
Piscera would survive with himself as puppet ruler rooting out remaining
resistance in the same way the Cylons are running things in the Cannes
System.  In short, he thought he had every base covered since a Cylon
attack was going to come regardless of what course of action he took."
     "He saw his decisions entirely through a warped, pragmatic lens,"
Tinia said.  "And I assume that was also true of Uri and Mikkos and the
people involved in this......parallel plot?"
     "That's what it appears to be based on our preliminary
investigation."
     The Virgonese woman shifted back in her seat, "It's all
illuminating, Adama.  And it shows me that the events of that awful night
aren't as cut and dry as they seemed to be, but.....I'm not sure what
information I might have that could aid you.  Certainly not about Count
Mikkos.  I only met him once or twice when he was lobbying the Virgon
Assembly over matters that would have been helpful to his business
interests and that was over a yahren before the Destruction.  And I
couldn't add anything more about Uri than you probably could."  
     "It wasn't Mikkos that Sire Anton felt you could offer some insight
on," Adama said.  "He was referring to another name that came up. 
Someone Uri wanted Copernicus to provide him financial information about. 
Siress Rosalind.  "
     Tinia's reaction was no less one of stunned amazement than it had
been when Adama had mentioned the name to Anton.  He gave her a micron to
take another sip from her water bottle to collect herself.
     "Rosalind," she whispered, "In that case, the connection with
Anton's visit and his referring you to me now makes sense."
     "Anton said you were one of his sources for the stories he leaked to
the tabloid press in order to ruin her reputation and force Adar into
dropping her as his mistress."
     "I wasn't Anton's only source, but yes, I did tell him what I knew
firsthand about Rosalind and the things we'd talked about.  Other times I
referred him to friends of Rosalind who also had information.  I
sympathized with Anton's perspective because he felt Adar was undermining
his own effectiveness as a leader by hanging on to her and if he came to
his senses and realized she was only looking out for her own ambition and
not being 'exclusive' with him in her own relationships, he'd have the
sense to drop her."
     "How was it that you knew so much about her?"
     "Well.....I knew Rosalind well, but only because she had come to
regard me as a friend, even though I loathed her privately.  She saw me
as a kindred spirit to her.  Pioneers of a sisterhood of female
bureauticians who didn't need to, and these were her words, 'sleep their
way to the top'." She laughed. "Amazingly, that's exactly what she was
trying to do!  That's why I came to dislike her because she was such a
hypocrite and never seemed cognizant of just how much of a hypocrite she
was.  That's why when Anton came to me looking for something he could use
against her to get Adar to drop her......I was happy to comply so long as
he didn't use my name.  I admit that was mostly due to my sense of
propriety since ordinarily I'm the kind of person who frowns on leaking
things to the press.  But in this case, I was convinced I was performing
a public service."
     "Only the stories didn't seem to have any effect."
     "No, they didn't.  Which says a lot about how besotted Adar was. 
Adar's ego simply couldn't handle the idea that it wasn't his masculine
prowess that kept Rosalind in his bedchamber." She laughed mirthlessly.
"One would think he'd have learned his lesson after how
she......conducted herself when Adar wasn't as......compliant as she
wanted him to be."
     "There was one story in particular I do recall," Adama said, "Rumors
that she was having a relationship with a Battlestar Commander....who was
married."
     "They weren't rumors, Adama, as I'm sure you know," Tinia said, "And
yes, I was Anton's source for that story.  I'm sure you knew just who
that Battlestar Commander was."
     "Yes," the Commander nodded, "Commander Solem of the Rycon. 
Kronus's successor."
     "Adar's relationship with Rosalind I could understand, even if it
was so distasteful the way he let himself get cuckolded by that woman.  I
could never understand what Solem saw in her because that sordid affair
seemed beneath his dignity.  Was he the kind of person who'd ordinarily
be given to flights of fancy?"
     "Not in my experience with him," Adama conceded as he recalled the
man who had preceded Adama as Executive Officer of the Rycon before
receiving his first command, which had been the Battle Cruiser Valkyrie. 
When Kronus retired three yahrens before the Destruction, Solem had
received command of his old ship, which had also been a reward for his
many yahrens of effective command of cruisers and Gunstars.  Adama
remembered Solem as a shrewd and gutsy warrior.  A gruff, taciturn Gemon
who, despite being a man of few words, was more than happy to let anyone
and everyone know where he stood on the subject of Adar's plan for
'peace' with the Cylons.
     "Tinia, consider - in light of her name coming up in reference to a
plot concocted by Sire Uri, both concurrent to and overlapping with
Baltar's, with the likely goal of toppling the entire Colonial Government
that she *may* have been manipulating Solem as she apparently did Adar.
He and I may have been polar opposites in most ways, but we both had the
misfortune of losing sons in the service; men can behave...... out of
character, and that extremely so, when they're grieving the loss of a
child and a woman...... makes herself available." 
     "Particularly when she's whispering platitudes in his ear about his
name being remembered for deeds on par with those of the Lords," Tinia
retorted, bitterly. "What, I wonder, was she whispering in Solom's ear?"
     Adama found himself giving way to sudden introspection.  While
always cordial, Adama's engagements with Solom had been few and far
between since their overlapping time on the Rycon had only been a matter
of sectars.  While never less than *completely* respectful of and
deferential to his superior officer, the man had - if only privately -
expressed his disapproval of both Adama and Commander Fairfax of the
Columbia serving in dual military/bureaucratic roles as members of the
Council of Twelve.  Darkly ironic was that Solom - who'd also had two
warrior sons serving as viper pilots, though not under his command - had
lost the younger, 'Zak - a mere letter difference from Adama's own Zac -
in an accident during his first reconnaissance assignment mere sectars
before the Destruction.
     Adama recalled from Captain Dante's account of that horrible night
that Solom and his crew had forsaken any involvement in Armistice
celebrations, choosing instead to remain on duty, overseeing the transfer
of equipment from their decommissioned Battlestar. When the attack began
they'd stayed at their posts, despite having precious few vipers with
which to launch a counter-attack; the cover fire their laser turrets
provided had been pivotal in allowing the remaining crew escape the
ship's death, along with its escort - and Solom's former command - the
Battlecruiser Valkyrie. 
     "As you said," Adama continued, "there's no need to delve too deeply
into the more salacious aspects of the matter, though you *did* suggest
that Rosalind's position - Liaison to the Secretary of the Colonial
Education Directorate - was awarded to her as a result of her
relationship with Adar, yes?"
     "She certainly believed it to be the case, true, but not because
that's what she was ultimately angling for; a woman doesn't take up with
a powerful man like Adar to be appointed to an advisory role. She wanted
to be *the* Secretary of the Education Directorate, and she had no shame
in admitting to me that she felt Adar owed her the appointment - for, and
again, these are her words, 'the things I did for him in bed'.  She also
had no shame in saying that if she didn't ultimately receive the
appointment, she'd make him regret it."
     Adama couldn't help but think of Siress Lydia's machinations with
both Sire Antipas and Commander Byrne, though Lydia was infinitely more
tactful by comparison.
     "In the same breath," Tinia continued, "she'd spoken with *complete*
seriousness of using the Secretary's office as a stepping-stone to a seat
on the Council and, eventually, the Presidency. While I knew her to be
competent in the area of education, and certainly didn't begrudge her
such aspirations, I couldn't take her seriously. But when I heard the
venom in her voice as she railed against him...... Let's just say, her
temperament would have been called into question had she run for higher
office. I hate to speak ill of the dead, but I shudder to think what a
Rosalind Administration would have looked like."
     "Noted," Adama replied, trying not to dwell on the thought that
similar pettiness lay at the heart of Uri's attempts to negotiate behind
his back with the Zykonians. 
     "But now I have a question.  Just what did Copernicus discover in
*her* financial records?"
      Adama hesitated. "I hate to broach the subject, but... while our
investigation has
only just begun, we have to keep a very open mind with regard to the
possibilities - given the other players, and any details I share with you
must remain *entirely* confidential.."
     "I understand completely. Of course, I am happy to treat this as
confidential Council business and, if you so deem it, a matter of
military necessity."
     "But not 'Council business' in the sense that you can share this
with other members of the body," Adama cautioned.  "I'm not simply
referring to obvious examples like Lydia and Xaviar, but even someone you
consider a friend and ally like Sire Pelias can't be brought into this
yet."
     "Of course," Tinia couldn't help but think of the irony in how she
and Pelias were keeping a secret from Adama regarding attempts to get
Lydia off the Council.  
     "To answer your question, Copernicus found that Siress Rosalind's
financial assets were in line with those of an individual of her station
and accomplishments. He found no unusual transactions in the eighteen
sectars prior to the Destruction, nor did he find evidence of income
earned from what we'd consider unusual sources. If Uri were interested in
something beyond what Copernicus found, he never shared it with the boy.
Understand that our evidence is limited to witness accounts for the
moment, but what's been alleged warrants investigation, if for no other
reason than to have as complete a picture as possible of the Destruction.
It may have been simple enough to assign blame to Baltar and leave it at
that, but... for reasons I'm not sure I can enumerate - beyond learning
of Uri's involvement after his multiple attempts to undermine me - I
can't simply hang everything around Baltar's neck. More than one
proverbial ghost has reappeared in the Fleet and, now that we know there
is a somewhat widespread group of survivors at home, to say nothing of an
active Resistance of humans *and* Cylons against the Imperious Leader, I
can't ignore the possibility that persons who might have been involved in
treason could still be among us."
     "Do you *really* believe such a possibility exists?"
     "There was a time when I wouldn't have considered it," he replied,
solemnly. "It was so simple...... Baltar as the foolish mastermind who
actually believed the Imperious Leader would make good on his offer,
Charybdis his loyal deputy and, perhaps a handful of operatives in his
various commercial entities... but we discovered Uri's involvement. Now,
with these new allegations...... a disturbing picture is emerging that
suggests Baltar's activities were not only known to Uri and a wider
circle of conspirators beyond even Baltar's knowledge, and perhaps even
to members of our government - all of whom allowed it to proceed
uninhibited, for their own nefarious purposes."
     "Such as Count Mikkos," Tinia said.
     "Yes," Adama said as his mind again wandered to his recollections of
a very enigmatic figure in Colonial society in the pre-Destruction
period.  Count Mikkos of Piscera, cousin of Baltar, and hereditary heir
to a crown had his father of the same name not abdicated his claim. Among
the twelve worlds Piscera was rivaled only by Libra in the connection of
its people to an ancient, pre-Unification monarchy. Where Caprica, Gemon,
Sagittara and the rest had instituted varying democratic forms of
government from the start, Piscera and Libra in particular clung to the
principle of hereditary rulership. The Piscerans had actually been the
most difficult of Kobols twelve tribes to convince to accept the Articles
of Colonization at the outset of the Thousand Yahren War because it
required them to accept the supremacy of a republican union in matters of
mutual defense, trade and individual liberties, even if each individual
planet remained 'sovereign' over local authority matters. 
     As humans were given to, they argued at length as to what
constituted a truly local matter, and to what extent the Colonial Union
had jurisdiction over a matter of individual liberty.  Over time, the
various monarchs had grown to accept and even prosper from the
arrangement. But as the war intensified and Piscera's proximity to Cylon
territory made it, generally, the first target of Cylon aggression, the
cry was heard from a growing number of the inhabitants of that world for
succession from the Colonial Union, a restoration of the monarchy and
*extreme* measures to be employed to end the Thousand Yahren War once and
for all. 
     Oddly enough, Mikkos - the man with the most to gain from such an
arrangement - hadn't, at least not publicly, voiced support for either
succession or a restoration of the monarchy though, much like his cousin,
he'd *long* been an advocate of devoting more resources and engaging in
bolder acts to end the war. Highly critical of the Colonial government
across successive Administrations, he'd directed the bulk of his anger at
Adar. 
     Adama hadn't realized how long he'd been lost in thought until he
noticed Tinia waving her hand as if trying to get his attention.
     He shook his head; "My apologies, Tinia. Like you, I never expected
to hear certain names again, and now the mention of them is bringing back
a flood of memories."
     "I understand.  I've been feeling that too with Rosalind.  I just
wanted to ask if there are any other conclusions to draw from that
recording of Uri and Charybdis."
     "To answer your question... perhaps the best way to answer is to
tell you what I *didn't* see.  Despite Uri's advice that Charybdis spend
whatever amount of cubits he'd furnished to him, nothing in that
recording, no facial expressions, vocal inflection or other body language
speaks to either man believing he was in imminent danger of death.  In
fact *everything* about their demeanor suggested the opposite.  So, if we
presume that they knew that the ultimate end of their scheme was the
Destruction, then we have to conclude they had more confidence than any
man has a right to that *nothing* would interfere with their planned
escape.  And, if we presume they knew the Cylon plan of attack, they had
no way of knowing the Galactica alone would survive the assault and
return to collect what survivors she could. Ergo, neither Uri nor
Charybdis truly believed any Cylon assault would succeed to the degree it
did."
     "That's...... a very logical conclusion, if one has the ability to
check their emotions. I'd suggest that Mikkos's involvement also speaks
to Destruction not having been the preferred end game," Tinia stated.
     "How so?"
     "Well, why *would* Mikkos, the rightful heir to the monarchy, go
along with a scheme that would have seen his cousin installed as ruler of
Piscera - even if only a vassal ruler in the court of the Cylon Imperious
Leader - as the last outpost of Colonial humanity?"
     "A good question.  I think Baltar's notification of Mikkos about the
plot may have easily been a pre-emptive move to let Mikkos live without
being in position to challenge him as the Cylon puppet ruler of Piscera. 
Perhaps the answer is that if Mikkos knew about Baltar's double-dealings
before his cousin took him in confidence, he may have sensed the only way
to potentially displace his cousin from that puppet leadership would have
been if he, Mikkos, had made his own arrangements with the Cylons
beforehand, and which the plot with Uri gave him the opportunity to do
so."
     "That would make sense," Tinia nodded.  "In the worst case scenario
where Destruction does come, then Mikkos has his other potential problem
of being subordinate to his cousin taken care of."
     "And this may provide the clue as to where this other name
Copernicus mentioned, Ashera, comes in," Adama added.  "According to
Baltar, she was a member of Adar's intelligence team.  Her job was to
evaluate Baltar's intelligence reports on the state of the Armistice
talks."
     "Meaning she could have been working on behalf of Uri and Mikkos all
that time and provided them with the inside information they needed on
the state of the talks."  Tinia reasoned.
     "That is the theory I would consider most likely at this stage."
     Tinia finished her drink and looked thoughtfully at him, "And now
you want to find out if there's any possibility of these
other......traitors still being alive and somewhere  in the Fleet?"
     "If they are, we have to provide some closure on that point.  Not
because they'd face charges because with Baltar pardoned, it would be
pointless having a new Tribunal reopening all of those painful matters
once again.  It might also reopen public calls to have Baltar's pardon
revoked in the interests of keeping justice equal, and that is something
we can't let happen.  Even if this is painful for our people to admit,
the fact is that Baltar has kept his word and become a productive member
of our society again in his role commanding the Baseship."
     "I don't dispute that.  And you're right, we *are* past the point
where Tribunals and charges would serve any purpose in relation to the
Destruction.  It's all a matter of.....making sure History is recorded
accurately?"
     "I would say, yes," the Commander acknowledged.  "All parties who
were involved must be identified for that purpose, lest there be any
possibility that we have someone in our midst whose past status as a
traitor might lead them to commit new crimes in the future, which is what
we saw with Uri.  And.....there's also the matter of how this might
impact the Resistance movement we learned about yesterday.  It will be
some time before we have more information on who the leaders of the
movement are that my wife has been working with.  But the one place where
a past traitor to the Cylons can still be dangerous is if such a traitor
has infiltrated the Resistance and is still working for the Cylons."
     Tinia nodded in understanding, "I see what you mean.  This
investigation is as much.....for her sake and what she's doing now."
     Adama only allowed himself a faint nod as he lowered his head. 
Immediately, Tinia knew the reason why he'd done so.  She decided it was
time for her to be candid.
     "I understand how what happened yesterday could bring you such joy
and sadness at the same time," the Virgonese woman said.  "To know
that.....Ila is still alive and well after you'd thought her lost
forever.  And yet.....you have to remain apart from her.  It makes me
understand why Xaviar's undoubtedly going to get some of the people to
support him.  Because they'll be feeling the same pain I know you're
going through and......they won't be able to put it in perspective the
way you have."
     He didn't answer her, but his silence indicated that he wasn't
objecting to anything she had to say, and that if she wanted to say
anything else, she could.
     "I'll never say this again, Adama," Tinia whispered with respect and
affection, "There was once a time when......I thought something might be
possible between us.  After the whole Eastern Alliance incident, we
learned to see each other with new respect.  But I never intended to be
aggressive with you or force you into something you weren't interested
in.  That if anything were to happen, it would only be because.....that's
what you would have wanted.  And all this time that we've developed a
meaningful friendship......I know that you've preferred to remain true to
Ila and......the Lords have rewarded you for that by giving you no
complications to sully the meaning of what happened yesterday.  I admire
you greatly."
     Several microns passed.  Tinia felt a bit of tension inside her that
perhaps she'd crossed a line but when he smiled reassuringly, the tension
turned to relief.
     "I envy the man you will know happiness with one day, Tinia," he
said with sincerity.  "He will be very fortunate."
     She nodded in understanding and rose from her chair, the
business-like demeanor of the Councillor returning.
     "Mr. President," she respectfully bowed and departed.
     It was well over several centons before Adama felt the strength to
leave the empty room.


Chapter Four

     Captain Leyland's stem to stern inspection of the Paz Goria
continued after he left the Bridge.  Taking him first to the small ward
room and then the life station facility that only served as a stopgap
place for quick treatment as was true of the life facilities on most
ships in the Fleet.  He was pleased to see that because of the ship's
conversion from passenger to cargo freighter, both the ward room and life
station were becoming more hygienic again now that they only needed to
handle the needs of fewer people.
     From there it was down one deck to the three cargo storage
compartments, which until recently had been serving as passenger space. 
Now the makeshift bunks had been dismantled and the ability to more
efficiently store vital cargo for the Fleet, ranging from non-perishable
foodstuffs to unprocessed minerals could increase.  From there, it was
down a short companionway that would provide access to the water tank
compartment (the source of the non-existent problem one sectar ago), the
tylium storage compartment and finally at the rear of the ship, the
Engineering compartment, which was manned by ten crewmen at a time in
equal shifts of twelve centars.
     As he walked down the compartment, he suddenly felt a distinct
sensation beneath his feet.  A sensation that any seasoned veteran of
space travel could immediately tell.  The Paz Goria was slowing.
     This was the sort of thing that would have made him contact the
Bridge immediately but there was no intercom in the corridor in this part
of the ship.  The nearest one was on the other side of the compartment
door in Engineering.  He reached the door and entered the manual entry
code that would cause the compartment door to slide upward into the
ceiling and permit access.  It was standard operation procedure for the
Paz Goria and her sister shp to keep the compartment doors closed at all
times and to open them only through either an automatic switch on the
Bridge that controlled all compartment doors, or a manual entry code at
the site.
     But when the ship's master entered the code, nothing happened.
     "What the frack," he muttered as he entered it again.  But nothing
happened.  He squinted at the console and soon realized that the digital
interface was dead and not even showing the numbers when he entered them. 
It was as if the power had failed completely.
     Knowing the nearest intercom was back in the water tank compartment,
he headed in that direction.  Had he not been so angry over the
inconvenience thrust upon him he might have heard a series of loud taps
coming from the other side of the Engineering compartment door.  Taps in
a rhythmic pattern that anyone with basic training in Colonial code would
have immediately recognized as a signal of distress.


     When Adama returned to his quarters, he found a message waiting for
him from Castor that Security Officer Micah was on his way back from the
Constellation and would be aboard in less than fifteen centons.  He
decided to pass the time by going through the reports on the two people
that he knew Micah had a very direct connection with, and who Copernicus
had mentioned had been close friends of his before and after Destruction
in the so-called "hacking collective" that represented the starting point
of how Uri had been able to further along his plans by exploiting his
illegitimate son's computer skills.

     There was also, Adama knew, a third name Copernicus had provided in
addition to Meshach and Miranda, and who from preliminary indications was
likely the most important member of the collective.  The only problem was
the name Copernicus had provided didn't match any known name in the Fleet
Directory which meant it wasn't the one he was using at present.  That
alone was enough to make Adama feel concerned about the potential danger
that still existed in the Fleet.  He knew Copernicus would never want to
suspect one of his friends, but was it possible the virus was the result
of something deliberate done by one of his friends in the collective? 
And if so, did that mean someone close to Copernicus had been more than
just an innocent bystander in that period before the Destruction?  
     Maybe it didn't mean all that.  Maybe the reason behind the virus
was still innocent and it was only an unholy coincidence it was the same
as the "Specter Protocol" that was so deeply entwined with the parallel
treason plot of Sire Uri.  If that were the case, he didn't have to worry
so much about the future of the Fleet.  But he still wanted the truth
known even if the reason was innocent so there'd be no doubt something
like that would never happen again.
     And in the process of learning the full truth about the
virus......he'd also clear up the matter of whether there was anything
else out there he needed to let Ila know about, for the sake of the cause
she had given so much too.


     Leyland arrived in the water tank compartment, which was devoid of
crew as it usually was, and immediately found the intercom.  "Bridge,
this is the Captain."
     There was a crackle which only added to his exasperation since there
shouldn't have been any static at all.
     "Bridge!"
     He looked at the intercom and abruptly saw no indications of power. 
As if his turning it on had caused it to short out.
     *Of all the......*
     The master of the Paz Goria decided he wasn't going to waste any
more time looking for an intercom that worked.  He would head back to the
Bridge and get some answers.


     After parting with his wife, who had to report back to the Galactica
for stand-by viper duty, Dante had returned to the Constellation's Bridge
where he noticed how subdued Commander Byrne seemed.  As if there was
something bothering him.
     Even though Dante had come to like the Earth native on a personal
level and not just respect him as a capable commanding officer who had
learned to adjust to a different form of technology, the executive
officer never felt he would ever rise to the level of a personal intimate
of Byrne's in the way Colonel Tigh was with Adama.  That was why if there
was something bothering Commander Byrne, he wasn't going to sound him out
about it.  That was something either Commander Allen or his daughter Jena
would have to do.
     When Byrne noticed him, he promptly rose from the command chair,
"You have the con, Mr. Dante.  I'll just take a few more centons to
observe only."
     "Sir," Dante acknowledged as he seated himself.  Despite the
authority that came with it, he still missed the more confined seat of a
viper cockpit.  While he'd had a few chances to fly since he'd been
reassigned to the Constellation, they'd been too few and far between for
his tastes.  Nonetheless, he had no intention of rocking the boat and
asking for a transfer.  He was convinced that would put him back in the
daggit-house with Adama.
     "Commander?" Lieutenant Agron, the Second Officer spoke up. 
"Scanner shows something odd with the Paz Goria, just ahead of us."
     Byrne eased his way forward to Agron's station, "Define 'odd', Mr.
Agron."
     "She's slowing down, sir.  Not maintaining the normal convoy speed."
     "Try raising her.  And have their response in the open."
     Agron nodded.  "Paz Goria this is Constellation.  What is your
situation?"
     There was no response.
     "Paz Goria this is Constellation.  Please acknowledge our
transmission."
     Finally, they heard what sounded like a filtered voice.
     "Constellation, this is Paz Goria.  We've got a problem."


     As Leyland reached the access ladder that would take him to the
Bridge, he noticed for the first time that he was feeling light-headed. 
He wondered if that was because he'd been sprinting like mad through the
corridors and up two deck levels to get back to the Bridge after failing
to communicate with them.  And yet.....the sensation was different from
feeling winded.
     When entered the open hatchway to the Bridge he was surprised to see
that all of the personnel were wearing oxygen masks.
     "What in Hades is going on?" he blurted.
     "Captain, you'd better get this on!" the Executive Officer tossed a
mask at him.  "We've got power relay failures all over the ship and it's
knocked out the air scrubbing system completely.  Carbon dioxide levels
are already over 1000 PPM and climbing."
     "Why didn't you answer me?"
     "Internal communications are impacted too.  We noticed our speed was
dropping and tried to contact Engineering but we couldn't get through to
them."
     Suddenly everything clicked.  "I was just down there!  I couldn't
get the compartment door to open when I entered the code!"
     Hadley turned around, "Then it looks like the control systems for
the compartment doors are impacted too.  Which means the men back there
are trapped with rising CO2 levels."
     "Holy Frack," Leyland whispered.  The magnitude of the problem was
clear.  The rest of the crew in theory could abandon ship safely but the
ten men in Engineering were in danger of death from air toxicity unless
the situation was dealt with and soon.


     "We first noticed something was wrong when our speed started to
drop.  Apparently the tylium valves to let fuel flow to the Engines were
shut off manually in Engineering causing us to slow.  That was likely
their way of trying to get our attention because Internal com-lines are
out," the Paz Goria's Executive Officer was giving his report to
Commander Byrne.
     "And you didn't detect any problems beforehand on the CO2 levels?"
     "No.  Our sensors should have flashed an initial warning that the
air scrubbers had failed but we didn't notice it or else it never
registered.  At any rate, it should have given us a constant alert
warning, but the sensors have clearly fracked out on us.  It was even
impacting our external com-line but we managed to divert some emergency
power to keep that operating.  We can't however use emergency power to
get the Engineering compartment open so we can get those men out."
     "Stand by.  I'll notify the Galactica immediately."


     Adama was anticipating the door chime to signal Micah's arrival,
that consequently when he heard the sound of the Bridge intercom it
jolted him slightly.
     "Yes, Colonel?"
     "Problem on the freighter Paz Goria, Commander," Tigh said. 
"They're having all kinds of power and relay breakdowns and it's
incapacitated their air scrubbing system.  Carbon dioxide rising to
dangerous levels."
     "Can the crew evacuate?" Adama was concerned to hear another problem
had crept up in one of these old freighters yet again.
     "Most of them can, but the ten men on Engineering detail are trapped
in a sealed compartment they can't open.  Their internal com-lines are
all fouled up too and they can't talk to the trapped men.  None of them
apparently have personal com-devices."
     "Damn," Adama winced, "How much time do they have?"
     "That depends on whether or not they've got masks on for everyone,
which will give them no more than one or two centars tops before they'll
be breathing toxic levels."
     Adama knew he had to act quickly to get the situation under control. 
"All right.  I want Chief Shadrach of Maintenance to get over there with
the best members of his team, immediately!" he ordered, "Is the ship
under control in terms of her speed and trajectory."
     "She's just about come to a stop as far as her engine power goes. 
The Constellation would have to take her in tow to keep her from drifting
off course and potentially ramming another ship in the convoy."
     "Tell Byrne to do it.  Keep her under tow until the situation is
stable or until everyone is safely evacuated if they can't restore the
necessary power and systems."  
     "And then cut her loose if they have to evacuate?"
     "I'll keep that decision in abeyance until it becomes necessary. 
Keep me informed on what's happening in the meantime, Colonel."
     "Yes sir."
     Adama warily rubbed the bridge of his nose as he tried to think of
the ramifications beyond the fact that the lives of ten men were in
danger.  A malfunction of another kind had taken place on the identical
freighter Piz Goria recently, and that had been compounded by the
simultaneous arrival of the last Risik attack they'd been forced to
confront.  But in a way, the Risik attack had obscured the larger issue
of maintenance breakdown in these older ships.  It offered a reminder to
Adama why the term "rag-tag" was all too appropriate to describe the
Fleet.
     He'd done all he could for now by giving the order to have the best
men on top of the situation.  Shadrach, the Galactica's Maintenance Chief
had a stellar reputation for building and repair jobs on short notice. 
He also appreciated the fact that unlike Chief Twilly, the engineering
specialist, Shadrach was a man of the highest personal and moral
integrity.
     The sound of the door chime indicating the arrival of Security
Officer Micah reminded Adama how the mark of a good commander was to
learn how to efficiently multi-task and put his trust in qualified
subordinates, now that he'd been properly informed and given the only
orders he could give.  For now, the matter of the Paz Goria was entirely
out of his hands and he had to stay focused on other tasks he'd committed
himself to.
     "Sergeant Micah reporting as ordered, sir," said the tall, thin,
sandy-blonde haired warrior as he entered the room and gave his commander
a proper salute.
     Adama rose and smiled, showing not the slightest hint that he'd just
had to deal with a serious problem involving the safety of lives in the
Fleet that at this moment were still in jeopardy.  "Thank you for coming,
Sergeant.  Please sit down."


     "The Galactica's sending over a maintenance crew headed by Chief
Shadrach," Agron reported.  "Colonel Tigh wants us to hold the Paz Goria
in our tractor beam so we can keep her from drifting out of control."
     "I hope that doesn't put too much of a strain on us," Byrne grunted. 
"If they have to evacuate the whole crew, how many are there?"
     "Fifty-five.  If we had to take them all aboard, we could handle
that for the short-term."
     Byrne nodded.  An influx of that size would require doubling up some
bunk space, but it was certainly doable.  He could probably get some of
them sent to the Adelaide as a stop-gap before final dispensation took
place.
     "Of course they could always fix the problem and not have to
evacuate," Dante noted.
     "Given the shape her identical twin is in, I'll be surprised if both
of them last much longer," the Constellation captain said with disdain. 
"Activate beam and make sure we hold her at no closer than fifteen
hundred meters distant."
     "Aye sir," Agron hit the switch.


     The Galactica shuttle carrying Chief Shadrach and his six man team
pulled up alongside the Paz Goria     some ten centons after leaving the
Battlestar.  To gain access to the ship would require attaching the
shuttle to the docking ring and waiting for the hatch on the other side
to be opened.  No other entry or exit from the old freighter was
possible.
     Owing to the emergency, Tigh had ordered the most qualified
available pilots to handle flying the shuttle.  That meant Boomer found
himself flying along with another Red Squadron pilot, Sergeant Mackin.
     "Paz Goria, this is Galactica shuttle," Boomer radioed as he powered
down the engines.  "We show green light with docking port.  Please
initiate hatch opening."
     He heard a barrage of static in his headset which almost made him
rip it off.  Mackin, who had her headset on too, jolted an inch up in her
seat.  Knowing he had to keep his cool, Boomer took a breath and tried
again.
     "Paz Goria this is Galactica shuttle.  Please initiate hatch
opening."
     Again another crackle of static, followed by silence.
     "Mackin, find out if the Constellation can still hear her."
     The dark-haired sergeant nodded, "Constellation, this is Galactica
Alpha shuttle.  We've docked with the Paz Goria but we can't raise her to
confirm hatch opening.  Are you still in communication with her?"
     A half micron later, Agron's voice filled the headsets of both
pilots.  "Alpha Shuttle, we are still in touch with their Bridge,
they......stand by."
     The two pilots uneasily traded glances with each other while they
waited.  When Agron finally signaled them again, his tone was grave.
     "Alpha Shuttle, their external com-line is dead.  We can only talk
to them on text devices and they're now reporting they can't open the
hatch for the same reason they can't open the Engineering compartment
door.  They can't get the manual entry code to work."
     "You've got to be kidding me!" Boomer couldn't believe what he was
hearing.  "Are you telling me they don't have a hatch with a manual
control valve someone can just turn open?"
     "Well.....according to the Captain it's a design quirk that both the
Paz Goria and the Piz Goria have had since they were launched.  The
original owners of the ships wanted to prevent an unstable nut from
unscrewing the hatch singlehandedly in flight and causing sabotage with a
sudden decompression.  They say they can get it open but it'll take two
people to do it, and they'll need at least fifteen centons."
     "Great," Boomer said sourly, "By which point they'll have a lot less
air in their masks and the CO2 levels will have risen further into the
danger zone, and the trapped men in Engineering may be close to death."


     "I remember you from the Il Fadim Tribunal," Adama said pleasantly
to the young man seated across from him, "You were one of the Security
personnel that handled Commander Septimus' hover-chair.  I'm told that
when it's been necessary to shuffle him about the ship you have primary
responsibility for that."
     "Until Dr. Wilker finally finishes reassembling him," Micah said. 
"I imagine the rest of the Security Detail has more 'important' things to
do."
     Adama noticed the negative edge in the word 'important.'  "I suppose
for a man of your experience and background, it does represent something
of a come-down, doesn't it, Sergeant?"
     Micah kept his expression neutral, "You've been going through my
personnel file."
     "Yes, I have," the commander admitted, "You're certainly unique
among Colonial Security Guards.  You were once a commissioned officer
from the Academy who made Lieutenant, serving in the Fleet Special
Investigating Division.  But because you resigned your commission
outright and were formally separated from the Service for some time prior
to the Destruction, you had to re-join in the enlisted ranks."
     "The reasons for my resignation were purely personal, sir.  I went
to work for my great-grandfather's company."
     "And your great-grandfather was Sire Eduard."
     "Yes.  He'd taken ill, but wanted the family to retain control of
our interests. Given that I was the only descendant of age who had a good
relationship with him... and because I was willing......"
     "Your psychological profile indicated that your primary interest had
been serving in civilian law enforcement, not the corporate class."
     Micah was puzzled as to why he was being interviewed about his
background by the Commander, but he had no intention of asking him why,
since he was sure the reason would eventually become clear.  It was best
for him to answer every question thoroughly and without a hint of
displeasure.
     "I *wanted* to work as an investigator for the Justice Ministry,
actually, but the matter of who my father was made that... problematic. 
So when great-grandfather asked me to take up the mantle, I did."
     "Yes, your.....father was Sire Corin.  His reputation was......"
     "Commander, you don't have to be delicate for my benefit.  I've
always known about the criminal enterprise activities my father engaged
in throughout the Colonies."
     "And I'm certain that right now, you're wondering why I'd be
interested in asking about him," Adama knew he had to get to the point. 
"It's because your father was associated with, among others, the Poros
Crime Family and the late Sire Uri.  And he also had connections with
with Count Mikkos of Piscera."
     Micah squared his shoulders, and took on a more rigid, upright
posture. Inhaling somewhat deeply, he replied, "I was my father's son,
sir, and I loved him.  That said we never saw eye-to-eye with respect to
his... 'business'. I knew who he was and what he did, but he was... he
was my 'dad', as the Gemonese said; my 'real dad', even if he wasn't my
biological father. Like great-grandfather, he wanted me to follow in his
footsteps, but I made it clear to him when he offered to help get my
Service deferred that I would never have anything to do with the
organization.  I legitimately thought our relationship would be
permanently broken, but I underestimated him - greatly. He *did* look
angry for a moment, then sad. Finally, he smiled, clapped my shoulder and
said, 'Alright'. Nothing else changed about our relationship, but he
never talked to me about being involved with his business again."
     "You're fortunate to have escaped involvement there," Adama noted. 
"Before I get to these matters of Sire Uri and Count Mikkos,
there's.....one thing in your file that I'd appreciate your clarifying. 
The earlier draft indicates you had a brother who is dead now----,"
     "A half brother, sir, Nahum.  My mother's son from her marriage to
my adoptive father, Sire Corin.  He died before the Destruction when he
was only in his late teens."
     "Yes, that part I do understand.  But.....according to Lieutenant
Castor, you and Captain Dante are brothers and I don't see that detail in
the file."
     "Well that's because Captain Dante only learned a few sectars before
the Destruction that Sire Corin was his biological father," Micah said,
"Technically that means he's not a blood relation of mine, but once we
got to know each other, we came to regard ourselves as brothers and we
still do."
     Adama raised an eyebrow, "What were the circumstances there?"
     "My father and Dante's mother were never married.  And my father
never knew a thing about Dante just as Dante had no knowledge of him
until they came together several sectars before the Destruction.  It was
a shock, for both of them. My father not only because he had another son
- a grown son - but also one who was a decorated warrior from the Rycon,
and Dante because he'd never had a father in his life.  He was pretty
torn, though he and I took to having each other as 'brothers' pretty
quick.  He wanted to know our father, to love him even, but... obviously
it was hard for him as an up-and-coming warrior who'd been hand-picked by
Commander Solem to be a strike leader to learn he was the son of a man
suspected of being an underworld 'kingpin'"
     "The Captain... your *brother* is, among other things, a fine pilot. 
Commander Byrne speaks very highly of him as a command Officer as well."
     "I'm sure he'd appreciate you saying it, sir," Micah said.  "If I
can say this off the record........He seems to think you still have it
out for him because of what happened with Janna----er, Hunley.  Sorry,
I'm still not used to the fact that wasn't her real name even though we
get along wonderfully."
     "His assumption would be erroneous.  I'm well aware that he and
Lieutenant Hunley were caught in a difficult position.  But Sire Solon
felt an example needed to be set that would not allow too much leeway to
be given in a situation that at bare minimum required total candor and
openness with their superiors.  Duty required that Hunley and Dante
should have gone straight to Colonel Tigh or myself the instant they knew
the Otori had targeted her as an 'Infidel' who needed to be forcibly
repatriated into their sect.  Taking matters into their own hands is a
solution we can't endorse even if the man who was killed undoubtedly
deserved no mercy."
     "Oh they understood the need for discipline, sir.  Even the fact
that Hunley had to overcome being busted to Ensign and had to work her
way back up to get her rank back.  I think
with Dante, it's the fact that since he was reassigned to the
Constellation it's basically stagnated his career as a pilot, and he
misses that a good deal.  He much prefers the view from a viper cockpit
than a Bridge chair.  Not to mention the fact that even though he and
Hunley are married now, they don't get to spend as much time with each
other as a married couple should."
     "I hope he comes to understand that his current assignment is not a
punishment of any kind related to past matters.  It's only because we're
at a stage where it's important to have warriors capable of becoming good
command officers as well that he was assigned there."
     "I'll try to let him know that, sir," Micah said and then decided to
see if the Commander would get to the heart of the matter.  "You said you
were interested in my father's connections to Sire Uri and Count Mikkos?"
     "Yes, Sergeant.  What can you tell me about any of that from
personal knowledge?"
     Before the Security Officer could begin, the intercom sounded. 
Adama decided to use the ear  receiver which would prevent Colonel Tigh
from being heard by anyone else in the room.
     "Yes, Colonel?"
     "Commander, the situation's gotten worse.  The relay systems that
control all of the Paz Goria's communications have failed, and on top of
that they can't get their hatch open to let the shuttle dock for another
ten centons."
     "But they will get it open?" Adama felt his concern rising.
     "They'll get it open.  It's just that the men on board will be in
greater danger from all te extra CO2 they've been forced to inhale."
     "How much of the crew can fit into the one shuttle that's standing
by?"
     "It could hold as many as an additional thirty.  At least one extra
shuttle would be needed to get everyone else off and they'd have to
repeat the process of closing the hatch and then taking another fifteen
centons to reopen it again for the second shuttle."
     "Pass this along to Boomer," Adama said.  "When that hatch opens I
want him to take the maximum load of crew off and bring them over to the
Constellation immediately while Shadrach's team tries to get those
trapped men out of Engineering.  Then he's to take the shuttle back to
the Paz Goria and get the rest of them off."
     "And then?" Tigh prodded, "Does the Constellation cut them loose and
leave the hulk behind?  We'd be writing off some important cargo if we
did that."
     "I wouldn't want to see that happen," the Commander sighed with
exasperation.  "But they can't hold her in a tractor beam tow forever
without straining their power limits.  The only question is if Shadrach
can find a way to restore power and get them back on a normal course
heading before the rest of the crew is evacuated.  If he does, then have
just enough men stay behind to run her and we'll go from there."
     "And if he doesn't?"
     Adama didn't hesitate, "Let me know if and when we reach that stage,
Colonel.  Until then, it's out of our hands."
     He put the receiver down and when he looked back at Micah, he saw an
expression that conveyed only one message.  I didn't hear a word, sir.
     "All right, Sergeant, let's return to what we were talking about."


Chapter Five

     Boomer felt his impatience mounting as his eyes stayed locked on the
shuttle's open hatch.  It looked out on the grey metal slab of the Paz
Goria's hull that marked the point where their docking hatch was located. 
Full pressurization already existed so there was no danger to the shuttle
in having its hatch open at this point, but until the freighter opened
its hatch there was nothing that could be done.
     The only way he found he could channel his impatience was to think
back to when he, Athena and Boxey had been trapped inside the
Rejuvenation Center after the Cylon attack.  When they faced a not
completely dissimilar danger the trapped crewmen faced now of compartment
doors that wouldn't open.  And while they weren't facing the danger of an
approaching fire, the rising levels of carbon dioxide presented a danger
that was ultimately the same.  
     *Maybe I should show off my hovermobile hot-wiring skills again to
get these doors open if they can't do it,* he allowed himself some
gallows humor.  *Lords know I wouldn't mind trying!  Anything but having
to sit on my astrum waiting for something to happen and where delays
could end up killing people!*
     As the wait persisted he tried to channel his mind to more positive
thoughts.  Like how being trapped in the Rejuvenation Center with Athena
was ultimately, with hindsight, the first tiny step toward their eventual
marriage.  Nothing had begun between them in its immediate aftermath, but
Athena had told him later how she'd come out of the near-brush with death
experience more philosophical and less bitter about her break-up with
Starbuck.  It had effectively cleared the decks for her to start looking
elsewhere for eventual happiness in her life and to stop hoping for any
rekindling of what she'd had with Starbuck in the past before
Cassiopeia's arrival.
     For Boomer and Athena the coming-together had finally taken place on
the planet Ki when both of them had found themselves trapped in a world
seemingly out of some primordial past filled with cave-dwellers and
creatures from a storybook realm.  But the world was actually the remnant
of a Kobollian civilization that had splintered off from the original
expedition carrying the Thirteenth Tribe to Earth.  A civilization that
seven thousand yahrens later had destroyed themselves and reverted to
primitive savagery.  In that harrowing experience, they had discovered
their true feelings for each other, and that had eventually led to their
marriage and the births of little Ila and little Zac.  
     It had been a happy time from their standpoint.  And yet.....Boomer
had always sensed there remained one underlying piece of sadness in
Athena's life.  She was no longer the devout Skeptic who had boldly
renounced her faith after the Destruction, but her slow turnaround had
still carried visible healing scars from the experience.  Scars that had
remained until last night with the sudden reentry of Athena's mother into
her life via the Pegasus communication.  When all the healing scars had
disappeared in a sea of happy conversation capped for Athena when she and
Boomer had proudly held Little Ila and Little Zac in front of the monitor
so their grandmother could get her first view of them.  He could still
see the carryover effect from yesterday into today when they'd gotten up
and the smile was still on her face.......
     A loud metallic thud shook him out of his thoughts as finally, the
hatch of the Paz Goria swung open.  A face wearing a breathing mask
peered in. 
     "I'm Captain Leyland.  Who's in charge?"
     "Technically me, Captain," Boomer rose.  "What's the situation with
the CO2 levels?"
     "1800 and still climbing.  We've been on full masks for over thirty
centons now and collectively they're good for only another thirty centons
at best."
     Master Chief Shadrach, a graying man with a thick moustache made his
way forward.  "My team is ready with full gear to cut our way through the
Engineering door if we have to.  Have you been able to establish any
contact with the men trapped there?"
     "Only by listening to tapping sounds on the door.  They didn't have
enough masks for everyone so they've had to take turns passing them
around.  No one's passed out yet, but......" he trailed off grimly.
     Shadrach turned around to the six members of his team, "Let's get
moving!  Activate your masks two centons after we board so we buy some
extra time if we need it."
     Leyland stepped back to let the maintenance crew enter the
freighter.  After they were aboard, Boomer motioned the ship's master to
step inside the shuttle.  Once Leyland stepped inside he quickly took off
his mask to take advantage of the shuttle's normal air-flow.
     "That feels good," he said as he shut off, "All the systems of this
ship are just breaking down one-by-one it seems like."
     "Which is why you're going to have to be prepared to abandon ship,
Captain," Boomer said emphatically.  "The Commander wants me to take half
of your crew to the Constellation and to come back for the trapped men
and the rest."
     The ship's master glared at him, "I don't want her abandoned, I want
those men to fix what's fracked her up and get her back in running
order!"
     "You don't have a choice in this, Captain!" Boomer was afraid he was
going to run into this.  He knew that the worst possible blow to the ego
of a ship's master was the prospect of abandoning ship.  Losing a ship,
even for reasons totally beyond the control of a master represented a
stigma that could only be overcome by getting another command.  A
prospect that was very limited in the Fleet.  "If Shadrach can fix the
problem, then fine.  But if he can't pinpoint a problem that can be fixed
by the time we load those trapped men on this shuttle, then you *will*
evacuate the rest.  Don't take that up with me, take it up with Commander
Adama.  In the meantime, get your non-essential and off-duty crew aboard
this shuttle *now*, Captain!"
     Boomer could see the muscles angrily throbbing in Leyland's neck. 
Finally, without saying a word he turned and stepped back through the
hatch into the freighter, remembering to slip his mask back on.
     "Not my idea of a captain I'd like to serve under," Mackin noted,
now that she and Boomer were alone in the shuttle.
     "Join the club," Boomer grunted.  "Let's hope his damned ego doesn't
get someone killed."


     "My brother Nahum and I got to know Count Mikkos quite well when
were boys because my father would take us along on business trips,
particularly when dealing with Mikkos.  The first time we visited Piscera
I was worried he'd be upset with my father for bringing us, but he ended
up treating us very kindly, as if he were like an uncle to us.  After
we'd gotten a bit older he even let us play with his prized hunting
daggits and give us free rein of the estate."
     "And.....in the course of that, you were able to learn about
Mikkos's dealings with Uri?"
     "A lot, although I don't know how much of it you'll find useful.
Neither my father nor the Count thought highly of Uri.  That might have
been the only thing father and great-grandfather ever agreed on.  It
really...... *really* chafed them both that they needed to use him to
accomplish things in the 'legitimate' arena.  In their opinion he was as
dirty as they were - if not dirtier. Uri used my father's organization,
Mikkos's people and the Poros group for a lot of things, but somehow the
'stench' of their sort of business never seemed to stick to him. They
believed he was bribing people at a very high level... maybe even on the
Council."
     "Baltar?"
     "Oddly enough, no, and Uri really didn't like that. He was never
especially vocal with the Count.  He *knew* that even if he had the
'cleaner' reputation, Mikkos was still higher on the nobility pyramid,
but he never hesitated to voice his unhappiness to my father. He felt
that Baltar could have - and should have - helped make Uri's life easier
when dealing with the bureauticians."
     Adama called up an image of Baltar's late personal pilot and
supposed saboteur.
     "Was this man ever present when your father had dealings with Sire
Uri or Count Mikkos?"
     "Charybdis?  Yes, he was Sire Uri's pilot."
     The fact that he'd identified him as Uri's pilot rather than
Baltar's pilot confirmed a hunch in Adama's mind.  But he also realized
it raised a tangential question he had to address before he pressed
forward.
     "Sergeant.....just to clarify something.  You are aware that this
man was serving a life sentence on the Prison Barge and was murdered just
prior to the Detente, are you not?"
     Micah blinked in surprise, "That was the same man?  I knew it was
someone named Charybdis but.....honestly, I didn't make the connection."
     "It was.  I'm assuming you weren't assigned to the team
investigating his murder?"
     "No, I wasn't.  This was when we were still at Brylon Station?"
     "It was."
     "Well that would explain it, sir.  All of us in the division got an
extended furlon of up to a sectan on the station and......that must have
overlapped with my time there.  My girlfriend, Miranda, and I spent our
time there towards the end of the Galactica's stay."
     *Incredible*, Adama thought.  With that revelation, the reason
behind the timing of Uri's hit on Charybdis was cleared up.  It had to
come at a time when Uri knew that a man in Colonial Security who could
have linked Charybdis to him would be conveniently away from the Fleet on
furlon and not be assigned to the investigation.  If only we'd known
then, we would have learned all these additional details much sooner.
     Micah's reference to his girlfriend also reminded Adama there was
yet another part of the story he needed to talk to the Security Officer
about.  One that ultimately brought things back full circle to the
initial revelations that had come from Copernicus the previous day about
his hacker friends.  But Adama was convinced he needed as much
information he could get about the 'big fish' who were part of the
operation before coming back to the matter of the ones whose connections
were likely more innocent in nature, as was the case with Copernicus.
     *Unless they're involved with the virus and the virus was no
accident.*
     "Continue, Sergeant."
     For the next five centons, Micah talked about his memories of
Charybdis as a man he always saw hanging close to Uri.  Memories of him
and his brother playing pranks on Charybdis during Uri's visits to see
Sire Corin.  How Charybdis gave the impression of being an enforcer and
troubleshooter for the Sire.  With each anecdote Micah told about
Charybdis and Uri, it made the clandestine recording of the two Adama had
first seen a yahren ago become more nuanced.  The way they conversed
casually as colleagues more than operative and employer... the knowing
grins they'd exchanged when Uri told him to spend his ill-gotten cubits
'quickly'... the way Baltar, who was ostensibly pulling Charybdis's
strings was entirely absent from the conversation, to say nothing of how
Baltar had been taken aback at the suggestion there was tangible evidence
that Uri and Charybdis were meeting behind his back.
     It was easy to see why all the nuance had been missed, as he'd told
Tinia.  For too long they'd been conditioned to see the Betrayal
associated with the Destruction as a simple story that began and ended
with one man with any other principles just the obedient underlings of
the one man responsible for it all.  Now.....at a time when so many
things were happening that required a complex approach, the true facts
were finally surfacing.
     Adama found the young man's account so fascinating that it actually
succeeded in taking his mind off the subject of the Paz Goria
completely.......until the intercom sounded again, interrupting the
Security Officer in mid-sentence.
     This time, Adama didn't bother with the ear receiver and decided he
could trust Micah completely.  "Yes, Colonel?"
     "Shadrach's team is aboard the Paz Goria and working on the stuck
compartment door.  Boomer's also finished evacuating half of the crew to
the Constellation and is on his way back but it'll take another fifteen
centons for them to manually open the docking hatch again."
     "How much time do those trapped men have?"
     "We've got one break in that they didn't start using their masks
until the readings passed over 1000.  Calibrating from there, they'll
have used up their emergency supply of air in another forty-five centons. 
By that point, the readings will be over 3500."
     Adama's mind was now devoid of any thought of the investigation he'd
been conducting as he tried to envision the scenario taking place aboard
the freighter.
     "I'm assuming that cutting a hole with torches to get them out is
impractical because the rising CO2 levels would render them
non-operable."
     "Not extinguished, but rendered ineffective.  Shadrach says their
best bet is to find a way to restore power to the section so the door can
be opened with the manual code entry.  They're concentrating on the
wiring right now."
     "Keep me informed."
     "One thing, Commander," Tigh said with an edge of gravity.  "Byrne
wants to know how long he's supposed to keep the ship in tow if it has to
be abandoned."
     Adama idly drummed his fingers on the desk for several microns.
     "Tell the Century to move in and stand by to relieve the
Constellation on the tow operation.  The instant Byrne sees warning
indicators go into the red, I want him to cut her loose and let the
Century take over and use their tractor beam.  Eventually......" he
trailed off as he decided the time had come to make a final and decisive
order that would end the matter.  "Eventually, if the Paz Goria is a
total loss, then the Galactica is going to have to take charge of towing
her until we get all her cargo removed.  I'm prepared to sacrifice the
ship if we have to, but not her cargo when there are too many supplies
she's carrying that are needed for the Fleet."
     "Yes sir," Tigh then hesitated, "Boomer says he may have trouble
getting the ship's master to leave if they have to abandon ship."
     His expression darkened, "If the Captain starts giving trouble on
that, then Boomer has permission to shoot him in the leg and drag him off
if he has to.  I'm not going to have any useless martyrs adding to our
problems."
     "Yes *sir*!" Tigh's tone indicated his firm approval of the order.
     Adama switched off the intercom and returned to the young security
officer before him.
     "Let's continue, Sergeant."


     Aboard the Rising Star, where the Elite Class and those on furlon
engaged in their activities in blissful ignorance of the crisis that had
developed on a freighter, a luncheon date was coming to a close in the
Main Dining Hall between two members of the Council.
     "It's been a *most* pleasant lunch, Lydia," Sire Xaviar said.  "You
prove once again how you earned your reputation for charming all the rich
power brokers of Aeries."
     The auburn-haired siress let out a pleasant sounding laugh, "'Power
lunches' as they call them, were not the *only* means at my disposal."
     He smiled at her, but deliberately didn't take the hint.
     "You still haven't answered one question though, that I think
requires total candor on your part, if I'm to consider you a true ally on
this matter of 'turning back'," Xaviar's tone grew pointed, "Are you in
this only to get back at your former lover, Commander Byrne?"
     Ordinarily, Lydia might have bristled at being confronted in this
fashion.  But she already knew going into this that Xaviar would insist
on remaining his own man and she would have to be prepared to handle some
barbs he might throw her way.  The only way to satisfy him, was to show
she could take it.
     "Have I given you that impression, Xaviar?"
     "I'm only repeating what you said after the Council meeting broke
up.  You said, 'Perhaps my being close to dear Kevin at one time is the
reason why I now feel persuaded that your course of action is the one we
*must* follow.'" he shook his head, "That's not exactly an argument for
turning back rooted in principle."
     "Does that really matter, Xaviar?" her voice grew gentle, "Perhaps
my motives *are* self-serving to that degree.  Regardless of what *my*
reasons are, they nonetheless benefit *your* reasons."
     "Someone who is willing to change sides once, might easily do so
again if the opportunity seemed right," the pointed edge grew in his
tone.  "It would certainly make me feel much easier if you had a vested
interest in wanting to return to the Colonies."
     "Such as family or a long-lost husband?" she shrugged, "I'm sorry I
can't oblige you there, Xaviar.  I'll admit that if I returned to a
liberated Aeries, I'd be able to reclaim a vast amount of land holdings,
but it would hardly put me back to where I was before the Destruction."
     "And if your former lover were to suddenly beg you to take him back
into your boudoir, would you find yourself receptive to what's best in
*his* interests again?"
     Her expression grew purposefully seductive.....but with a distinctly
submissive edge.
     "I'd be more than happy to be given a disincentive to *ever*
contemplate that scenario."
     Xaviar smiled faintly.  He found her attractive and desirable in
every sense, and yet, he knew of her reputation for how she played the
game.  He knew that he wanted her......but he was going to make sure it
was only on his terms.
     "Perhaps......later."


     Business of another kind was also taking place on the Rising Star.
     "Five hundred cubits," Starbuck dropped the gold coins in the hand
of Chief Steward Zeibert.  "And with it, a guarantee that you'll have the
Fleet unicom system to the room disabled so that for the allotted time I
have the room, *nothing* will interrupt me for any reason at all.  I
don't care if it's the combined forces of the Risik, Ziklagi and Otaligim
bearing down on us.  I'm not budging from that room and if I get hauled
up before the Commander for missing an important message, I want a
guarantee that you'll personally apologize for the fact the system
malfunctioned and that it wasn't my fault."
     Zeibert could scarcely believe his ears.
     "It is *most* unusual, Lieutenant, but I must presume you have a
very good reason for making this unorthodox request."
     "Oh yeah," Starbuck said with the most dead serious tone he could
summon.  "A very good reason.  Tonight's the night I say goodbye forever
to certain......pre-war behavior."


     Shadrach had directed two members of his work team to concentrate on
the electrical panels that dealt directly with the Engineering
Compartment door.  The other four were directed to concentrate on fixing
the controls affecting the ship's air scrubbing system. Crewman Hadley
from the Bridge had come down to bang the coded messages through the door
to let the trapped men on the other side know what was happening.
     "One of the men is feeling loopy already," he said grimly, "They're
afraid he's going to pass out anytime soon."
     "Just have them keep quiet and try to breathe slowly," Shadrach
grunted as he looked over at Crewman Cussler who had the access panel to
the wires that controlled the door's gear mechanism off.  "Well?"
     Cussler looked over grimly, "These circuits aren't in good shape,
Chief.  The safety coating looks like it's been flaking off for who knows
how long."
     From another terminal, Crewman Malek was also grim.  "Same thing
with the control circuits that feed into the computer control.  A lot of
buildup of lint and junk in these access panels.  It wouldn't surprise me
if we've had short circuits galore back there that caused these systems
to go out.  That faulty relay that reported a water main break that never
happened was clearly the first warning sign."
     Shadrach shook his head in disgust, "When was the last time this
piece of felgercarb had its innards inspected?  I thought most of the
ships in the Fleet got a once-over when we were at Brylon and could
requisition any parts and wires we needed."
     The normally taciturn Crewman Hadley looked over from his position
at the door, "Begging your pardon sir, but.....we didn't go through any
maintenance work at Brylon other than cleaning out the residue build-up
in our fuel tanks."
     Shadrach was dubious, "Why in Hades not?  That was a golden
opportunity to replace ancient wiring and circuits, *especially* for
ancient rattletraps like this ship and the Piz Goria."
     "Well....the Piz Goria did have more work done on her than we did. 
That....was entirely the Captain's discretion."
     "Meaning Captain Leyland didn't think this ship needed an overhaul,"
Cussler said sourly before he went back to probing the wires that
controlled the door.
     Despite the harsh treatment he'd received from the master earlier
that day, Hadley suddenly felt a surge of parochial pride kick in, "The
Captain is proud of his ship and what she's endured through the yahrens! 
He's not negligent, he just.....felt the Paz Goria was as sound as she
was the day she was launched based on her yahrens of good performance."
     "All right, all right this is a stupid conversation no matter what
side you're on," the Galactica Maintenance Chief waved his hands in
disgust as he realized he'd contributed to the problem.  "Let's just
stick to the matter at hand."
     His com-line beeped, "Yes?"
     "This is Klas, Chief.  We've checked every wiring circuit that
controls the air scrubbers and they're no good.  The only way we could
get them started up again would be to do a complete internal rewire job
on this ship."
     "Great," the Master Technician grunted, "All right, get back here
and pitch in on getting the door open and when we get it open, lend a
hand getting those men out.  Oh and another thing, Klas.......tell
Captain Leyland and the rest of the crew to report to the shuttle
immediately and have them wait there.  There's no point in having them
waste what's left in their masks when this ship isn't going to be back
on-line anytime soon."
     There was an awkward silence from the other end.
     "Klas?" 
     "Sir....I think we're going to have trouble getting the Captain to
agree to abandon ship."
     "All right, all right!" Shadrach snapped, "Get the men down here to
help and meantime radio Captain Boomer and tell him what the problem with
Leyland is.  That's going to have to be his responsibility from here on
out.  Ours is getting that damned door open!"
     "On our way, sir."
     Shadrach shut the com-line off and shook his head.  What a fracked
up operation this is.


     "This has all been very illuminating," Adama said as Micah finished
explaining his last encounter with Charybdis.  His one encounter with him
as an adult.  "You say you saw Charybdis carrying a PDA with him of the
same color code used by Viper pilots?"
     "Yes.  I'd only been out of the Service a short time when I saw him
at the Caprica City Medical Annex.  Between great-grandfather's
philanthropy and my grandparents' service there, I spent a great deal of
time in that building growing up. I knew every level and sub-level, where
every department was and the specialty of practically everyone who worked
there. More to the point, I knew where the infectious disease
laboratories were - because that's where I went when I received my
inoculations. So I'm just passing through on my way to some function as
great-grandfather's heir apparent, and who do I pass coming up the
escalator from the infectious disease sub-level but Charybdis. We made
eye contact for maybe less than a micron, but I could tell that while he
wasn't sure who I was, he knew that he knew me. He was as I remembered,
not in a rush to get wherever he was going, and he was making no effort
at all to conceal that he was carrying one of the *exact* PDAs
color-coded for viper pilots!  I mean.....I knew what those looked like
since I was in Viper Training for a while before I decided I wasn't cut
out to be a flyer.  That's why it struck me odd that he was carrying one
of them."
     "And that certainly would have been helpful to him in carrying
out.....his ultimate plans," Adama noted.  "Your insights into Charybdis,
Uri and Mikkos are providing a great deal of contextual clarity to the
darkest event in all of human history."
     The Security Officer frowned, "Sir?"
     "I suppose it's time for me to be candid with you about what this
ultimately ties into, Sergeant," the Commander leaned forward.  "Evidence
has emerged that clearly indicates that these men we've been discussing -
Count Mikkos, Sire Uri and Charybdis---- were all part of their own plot
of treason and betrayal parallel to and independent of Baltar's."
     Despite the fact that as a trained security officer he was supposed
to be perfectly stoic and unflappable, it was clear this jolted Micah. 
Adama could see his right foot starting to tap repeatedly.
     "I.....see," the young sandy-haired man struggled for words,
"And....you also believe my father was-----,"
     "Your father's name has *not* come up in regard to any participation
in acts of treason against the state," Adama said with reassurance. 
"But....there is someone close to you whose name does figure indirectly
and this is where your assistance will be needed in using your skills as
a trained and disciplined investigator to help us get to the truth
as.....she understands it to be."
     Micah immediately realized what he meant, "You mean......Miranda?"
     "Yes.  I want you to understand that neither she, nor you for that
matter, are regarded as suspects in a criminal investigation.  I think
Sire Solon would define her and you as 'material witnesses' because of
your proximity to the people who clearly *were* involved, as you've
demonstrated with your firsthand knowledge of Mikkos, Uri and Charybdis. 
Miranda happens to fall into the same category as a result of her
friendship with Copernicus, who first informed us about these matters
that led to Mikkos and others who are the focus of our investigation."
     "You mean.....because she and her brother and Copernicus have been
involved in.....computer hacking?"
     "Yes.  But let me add something else before we go further that
should reassure you," Adama said, "We are only interested in making sure
the factual record of events regarding what happened is made clear.  We
are not interested in seeking any forms of retribution or vengeance at
this stage because Baltar's defection and pardon has effectively rendered
moot the matter of pursuing charges against others who were either
involved with him or involved with their own plots.  But if the potential
for *future* acts of illegal conduct exist, they must be dealt with. 
Assuring anyone who has something to hide that they don't have to live in
fear of discovery any longer from Colonial authority would solve that
problem immediately."
     Micah took all of this in, "And.....none of these discoveries would
become part of the public record?"
     "No.  As I said there's nothing to be gained on that point regarding
these pre-Destruction matters.  What we find will remain classified at
the highest level until a more appropriate time in the distant future. 
But at least the historical record will be accurate."  He paused, "Now
that I've told you all of this, Sergeant, would you able to move forward
in investigatory matters regarding both Miranda and Meshach with a clear
and detached perspective?"
     "I will do anything you ask of me, Commander.  That is part of my
oath as a warrior."
     "Good.  Now we can proceed."
     

     Boomer felt a rising tide of anger inside him as he got the message
from Technician Klas about Captain Leyland's refusal to leave and his
refusal to release the Paz Goria's Bridge crew.  He rose from his pilot's
seat on the shuttle, quickly donned a breathing mask and leaving Mackin
charge of the shuttle, stepped inside the old freighter.  In the red glow
of emergency lights, the mostly empty corridors took on a foreboding
quality that seemed all too appropriate.
     He reached the service ladder that led to the Bridge.  Once he
reached the top and stepped inside, the hostile confrontation with
Captain Leyland would take place.  This was the sort of job Boomer hated
above all others.  Confronting a clearly defined enemy was one thing, but
when he had to go up against an obstinate human who wasn't thinking of
the common good, it all seemed like a senseless waste.  
     He decided to leave his laser pistol holstered as he reached the top
and saw the five Bridge crew personnel, all wearing their masks seated at
their positions, while standing alone in the center with arms folded was
Captain Leyland.  Reacting to Boomer's entrance, the ship's master seemed
to glare at him from behind the mask.
     "Well, Captain?  How soon?"
     Boomer was already convinced it would be a waste of time to start
with the polite approach and work his way up to being angry after hearing
initial statements of defiance.  
     "If you mean how soon until you run out of air in your masks and you
have no choice, you've got about twenty-five centons," Boomer snapped. 
"The sooner you and these men come to the shuttle now, you can start
breathing fresh air again."
     "That is not acceptable, Captain," Leyland took a step toward him. 
"These technicians from the Galactica should start living up to their
reputation and fix the problems here just like they did on Piz Goria
recently."
     "Your ship has been a good ship for decades, but it's an old ship
that hasn't had enough overhauls to keep her going," Boomer's one
concession to fairness was to not personally attack the master.  "These
things happen.  Now it's time for the good of your crew to abandon her
and we can get to work on salvaging her cargo later.  But if you stick
around here and decide you love this ship so much you're willing to
inhale dangerous CO2 levels until you get sent off to La-La-Land
permanently, you're not going to do this ship's legacy proud."
     The Executive Officer, who had been frustrated by the steadily
increasing obstinacy in his superior tried to speak up.  "Captain
Leyland, maybe----,"
     "Speak only when you're spoken to, Mister!" Leyland angrily wheeled
on him which caused the XO to retreat several steps.  He then turned back
to Boomer.
     "If your men could fix the problem on the Piz Goria last sectan you
should be able to handle this one.  So I suggest you keep them at it so
that when they *do* fix it, I'll at least have enough of a crew to get
this ship back under way and then you can start bringing the rest of my
men back from the Constellation."
     *Lords, he is flipping out!*     Boomer thought.
     "Captain, *maybe* this ship can be fixed by a larger tech crew
*after* you've abandoned her, but that's going to be Commander Adama's
call.  Whether this ship gets back to normal or not, it's not going to
happen today.  So I suggest you obey the order he gave me and report with
these men to the shuttle *now*.  I don't want there to be any
complications when we get those trapped men out, because they'll need to
get to Life Station facilities fast."
     "If that's the Commander's order, let me here it direct from him!"
Leyland raised his voice.  "I don't need to hear it from his errand boy
son-in-law!"
     The angry sweat was dripping down Boomer's forehead and even getting
inside his mask. He now started to reach for his laser pistol, but just
then the five men of the Bridge crew, including the Executive Officer
abruptly converged on Captain Leyland from behind and grabbed him.  
     "NO!"  Leyland shouted in protest as two of his men held his arms
while two more tried to wrestle him to the ground, "I WON'T lose this
ship!"
     Finally, the Executive Officer drew up and landed his right fist
squarely on his superior's jaw.  Leyland let out a gasp, and then two
more blows from the other men knocked him into unconsciousness.  
     "Keep him on his feet!" the XO barked.  He then turned to a stunned
Boomer who had now taken his hand off his laser.  "Sorry, Captain, but
better us than you as far as immobilizing him.  That way you won't be the
one that has to answer for it later."
     "Thanks," Red Leader mumbled.  "Lords, I hope it was just the CO2
that did that to him."
     "Might very well have, sir.  He was breathing a lot of it without a
mask when the air scrubbers first went out and he was doing his stem to
stern inspection."
     "For his sake, I hope it was," Boomer now felt pity for the man as
the Bridge crew got the unconscious Leyland back on his feet an began
dragging him toward the service ladder.  So amazed was he by the sudden
turn that he didn't hear his com-line sound for several microns.
     When he finally answered it, he heard a jubilant Shadrach on the
other end.
     "We did it, sir!" the Master Technician shouted, "We managed to get
the computer restored and we opened it with the entry code.  We're
getting the men out now!"
     A surge of relief went through Boomer, "Great job, Shadrach!  Are
they all okay?"
     "Two of them are in bad shape.  We've got fresh oxygen on them
that'll hopefully stabilize them, but we need to get them to Life Station
facilities fast."
     "Constellation sufficient or should we take them to the Galactica? 
That'd be an additional five centons flight time."
     "My gut says every centon counts with them given the effects of what
they've gone through already."
     Boomer then cast a glance at the unconscious Leyland being pushed
down the access ladder.  "I'll go along with your gut on this, Shadrach. 
Meet you back at the shuttle and we'll close things down here."


     "You were not personally acquainted with Ensign Miranda before the
Destruction."
     "No sir.  I admit that makes things sound like an incredible
coincidence for me to have connections with people you say were directly
involved in this plot, and for me to just happen to become acquainted
with Miranda afterwards......"
     "Well that's why we need to do some more investigating, Sergeant,"
Adama gently interrupted.  "Perhaps it *wasn't* a coincidence.  Perhaps
Miranda became interested in you because she was aware of your being Sire
Corin's son, and thus by extension connected to Sire Uri and the others. 
I'm only throwing that out for speculation, mind you, just so you can
understand my position and why I have to at least eliminate any
possibility of that before the matter can be closed."
     "Yes sir, I *do* understand." Micah nodded, "I.....was introduced to
her by Captain Dante and Lieutenant Hunley when she first signed up for
Viper training.  That.....was not long after we had our first encounters
with the Ziklagi.  Her training then got held up for a while because of
our down time at Brylon and then the whole craziness with the Detente
breaking out afterwards, but.....it did give us time to form a bond with
each other.  And of course that's when I got to meet her brother Meshach
as well.  Along with Copernicus, because this was when he got himself set
up on the Pathmain with his own kiosk."
     "You consider Copernicus a friend?"
     "Well.....not in the same way because of his....affliction.  He
doesn't mind my company and because he knows Miranda and I are engaged
now, he's starting to think of me on the same level though, probably not
yet all the way."
     "Are you aware of any involvement on the part of any of them with a
so-called 'hacker' collective prior to the Destruction?"
     "I... I'm not even sure if I understand the term, sir; I know what a
'hacker' is, obviously, and I know that all three of them are incredibly
computer-savvy - or technology-savvy generally in the case of Meshach and
Copernicus - but I'm not sure I understand what 'collective' means."
     "A loosely associated group of individuals who may not have known
each other by name or even by appearance who use their 'computer-savvy'
as you called it to access and obtain information from unauthorized
computer systems and networks illicitly."
     "Ah... in that case, sir, I can't say I was aware of their
involvement in a group like that, though if you're telling me they were,
I'm not surprised."
     "Why does that not surprise you?"
     "I mean... between them they probably know more about computers and
how to manipulate them than Doctor Wilker. I wouldn't be surprised if
they were able to teach Septimus a thing or two, and he's literally- er,
well... maybe 'metaphorically' a living computer."
     "Very well," Adama nodded, "Did Copernicus, Ensign Miranda or
Civilian Technician Meshach ever discuss using their skills to gain
illicit access to a computer, a computer network or any form of digital
storage media owned or operated by the Colonial Government?"
     "No sir, they did not," Micah's eyes then narrowed as if his
analytical mind had pieced things together, "I think I'm beginning to see
where these matters connect between them and Sire Uri and Count Mikkos. 
They had connections to them."
     "Copernicus is Sire Uri's illegitimate son," Adama said, "I'm going
to assume he didn't volunteer that information."
     "Lords, no!" Micah was wondering how many more surprises he was in
for, "So....that would explain how he was able to open up that kiosk on
the Pathmain so he didn't have to work in Dr. Wilker's lab any longer."
     "Quite correct."
     "But.....to get back to your question about gaining illicit access
to a computer network.....the most they've ever done or talked about
doing in my presence that could be described as 'illicit' is using
certain obscure but not - to my knowledge - illegal means to exchange
messages and data with friends across the Fleet without leaving a trace
in the com-network."
     "For what purpose, if you know?"
     "Privacy is I think the primary reason, sir; also, I think they've
been trying to disguise transmissions they've been exchanging with the
Baseship crew," Micah replied.
     "They've been exchanging messages clandestinely with the crew of the
Baseship?"
     "Sharing data, more than 'exchanging messages', sir; I'm not sure
how this came about - mostly due to curiosity, I suppose - but at some
point either our people or the Centurions reached out through the public
com-net and started... well, talking."
     "Talking?"
     "Yes, sir; not about anything in particular, just... the com-net is
accessible from any ship. At some point someone on the Baseship -
Centurion Dunamis, I suspect; he likes to talk - connected with the
com-net and... I guess struck up a conversation. From there it evolved
into private wireless networks being set up... I know it sounds kind of
ridiculous, but the Centurions are extremely curious about human culture;
despite the fact that they've known of us and warred with us for over a
thousand yahrens, they don't really know anything about us - or we about
them."
     "And they're doing this without the knowledge of Baltar or Command
Centurion Moray?"
     "Well.....yes. That is the impression I got.  I suppose that would
be in keeping with this 'independent' streak of theirs that accounted for
why they defected in the first place."
     "And these private networks are being used to share information
outside official communications channels?"
     "Cultural information, yes sir; I couldn't swear to every single bit
of data crossing back and forth, but from what I understand most of it
is... again, I know how ridiculous this sounds, but most of the
communications involve entertainment."
     "Entertainment?"
     "Yes sir.  Popular entertainment.  Literature.  Music.  Vid-Com
recordings.  Obviously much of our own but also cultural data on file
from other races and species.  And....they have been sharing some of the
data in their files on the races they conquered like the Delphians.  And
I know they were very interested in some of the Earth entertainment that
Commander Byrne and the freed Earth prisoners from Ne'Chak had with them. 
Especially things that deal with so-called 'science fiction' they call
it.  Apparently the Earthers have a fascination with popular
entertainment that deals with computers and robots as characters, some of
them that resemble Cylons and others that are humanoid in appearance. 
Given the fact that Earth has no experience of war with a race of
machines, it's allowed for.....more creativity in that realm than
Colonial entertainment ever came up with."
     "That's probably true," Adama said, trying to form a mental picture
of centurions enjoying vid-com dramas of any type.  Despite his
acclimation to the Detente and the changed nature of the centurions, it
was still hard for Adama to contemplate this seeming.....human like
appreciation for culture on the part of Cylons.  "You're certain that
this data isn't for the benefit of Starbuck, as a way of killing time
during his Liaison duties aboard the Baseship?  Or for the benefit of
Baltar and Lady Ayesha?"
     "I suppose I can't rule that out completely, sir, but.....my
instinct would say no.  I've talked to Dante about his interactions with
the centurions and he said they were making extensive use of the
material."
     "Very well.  Moving on, are these networks being used for any other
exchanges of data - if you know?"
     "They are...... though you might find what I'm about to tell you
even harder to believe."
     Adama smiled involuntarily as he realized he was about to repeat a
line he'd once used with Count Iblis.  "I've been told that I'm a fairly
bright chap when I'm given a chance."
     His words seemed to relax the security officer, "Well,
sir......these networks are also being used for......gaming."
     "Gaming?" Adama asked. "You mean, in the sense that Sergeant Komma,
Copernicus and others... my *grandson* play computer games?"
     "Starhounds and Beckoning Honor, in particular," Micah replied.
     Adama was stunned. "Colonial Warriors... officers and enlisted men
and women are playing computer games - I'm familiar with Starhounds, of
course; I've played it with Boxey a number of times - with Centurions?
And I don't think I'm familiar with this other title you mentioned."
     "Ah... 'Beckoning Honor' is what's known as a first-person
'shooter', where the player assumes the role of either a Colonial Warrior
or a Centurion - mostly in ground combat - in one of a dozen or more
scenarios trying to capture an objective. As the name implies, there's a
good bit of shooting both other interactive players as well as non-player
combatants. I was kind of into it as a younger person, but not so much
anymore. Komma has tried to recruit me to his 'squad' but, honestly he
takes gaming far too seriously - which, I suppose he can because he's not
currently seeing anyone."
     "Understood, but we may be veering off course, as it were."
     "Begging your pardon, sir; so... I'm not sure that it's quite as
strange as you might think, but to answer your question, yes; there are
'gamers' among the younger generation of our population that spend some
of their free time playing interactive computer games with the Baseship
crew. Is it really so hard to believe, given that the Baseship has been a
part of the Fleet for over a yahren, and that according to your overnight
address there are Centurions allied with survivors at home in open revolt
against the Imperious Leader?"
     "I've seen much since the... since the renegade Cylons joined us
that defies my preconceived notions about them, but I have to admit the
thought of them potentially playing holo-vid games with my *grandson*
is... a step beyond what I might otherwise be able to accept. That said,
mine is not the only valid opinion. Clearly this state of affairs hasn't
led to problems, so despite my surprise that it exists, I don't know that
it's a great cause for concern. And, to bring our discussion back to its
proper flight path, it's not the sort of activity I was expecting to hear
about as far as it concerns Ensign Miranda and her brother, or
Copernicus. Incidentally, did any of them ever mention any
pre-Destruction associates they knew to have survived and who are
presently living in the Fleet?"
     "None that I know to have been survivors who they specifically
referred to as 'associates' - presumably of this 'hacker collective'
you're asking about, but from what I understand many of their 'gaming'
friends don't identify across the com-net using their true identities."
     "Then in other words, it's possible that a former associate of
theirs could be alive in the Fleet but known only anonymously," he made
it as a statement rather than a question.
     "I couldn't say, sir," Micah shrugged.
     "Very well.  One final question.  You are not aware of any remarks
made by Miranda or Meshach in regards to hacking work done with
Copernicus prior to the Destruction, which *may* have enabled Sire Uri
and his co-conspirators to gain important information that aided their
own parallel treason plot?"
     "No sir, I am not."
     Adama felt he'd reached the limit of how far he could question him. 
He slowly exhaled and brought his fingertips together.
     "I'm going to give you your instructions now, Sergeant," he said. 
"I'm going to trust your ability to commit these orders to memory.  You
are to report only to myself and to Lieutenant Castor.  What I want you
to do is to just act normally and casually with Miranda and Meshach and
try and gently draw information out from them about this period of their
lives.  They're probably going to find out sooner or later that
Copernicus mentioned their names, and I think if you make it clear to
them you're handling this matter and they don't have a thing to worry
about......it should make them relax and tell you all they know. 
Starting with the question of whether they have any connection to the
virus that impacted the Galactica some time ago.  We have reason to
believe, as a result of Copernicus's statement, that same virus is also
one that played a key role in the events prior to the Destruction.  It is
therefore possible that either one of them could have been responsible
for it, whether consciously or unconsciously.  Since you've mentioned the
extent of their gaming activities and how a number of their friends are
anonymous, I want you to also get a sense of whether or not a past
acquaintance of theirs could be alive and part of this circle. 
Specifically the additional name that you'll see in Copernicus's
statement."
     Micah tensed slightly, "What if I find something that implicates
Miranda or Meshach?"
     "If their involvement was as innocent as Copernicus's was, they
won't have to come and feel stigmatized by going through a formal
interview with me.  Provided  they've been able to reveal all they know
to you, and you are able to pass that information to me for the official
file which will remain sealed. Can you do that?"
     "Yes Commander, I can," Micah felt relieved that Adama was treating
the matter with care and discretion.  It was enough to give him
confidence that nothing bad was going to come to the people he cared
about.  
     "The one thing I *must* stress though, is that they can not conceal
the names of people they knew who *might* have had connections to the
principle figures we're interested in.  There are names beyond Mikkos,
Uri and Charybdis who are of interest to us that you'll learn about in
Sergeant Komma's original write-up of Copernicus's statement.  Names like
Siress Rosalind and Ashera.  If they have names to offer, they *must* be
given to us for further investigative purposes to see if they are still
among us in the Fleet and need to be questioned themselves.......or if
it's possible they're still alive back in the Colonies and have any
connection to the Resistance movement we learned about yesterday from the
Pegasus."
     "I understand completely, sir."  Micah said, "If Lieutenant Castor
can give me a copy of Copernicus's statement, I'll spend this evening
going over that, and then.....I'll start sounding Miranda out."
     "If this process takes days, record your observations daily and
provide your reports to Castor.  Ideally, I'd prefer we not speak again
until after you feel you've completed your work."
     "Yes sir," Micah rose, "Will that be all?"
     "That will be all, Sergeant.  Dismissed."
     The sandy-haired man saluted and left the room.  Adama marveled at
how so much had been accomplished in just one day.  More of the interior
picture of events needed to be filled in but his conversations with
Copernicus, Baltar, Anton, Tinia and now Micah had provided a greater
contextual clarity than he could have expected with regard to the
parallel treason plot.  When it came to that part of the story, he felt
it likely that Ensign Miranda and her brother Meshach were indeed just
innocent parties who like Copernicus had been taken advantage of by the
sinister figures who recognized how their computer skills could be used
to their advantage.  Whether through sabotage of the Colonial Defense
Network or by gaining funds to further their nefarious activities in the
time leading up to the Destruction.  It wouldn't surprise him if stolen
bank funds had been the key to paying off the mysterious intelligence
operative Ashera to become part of the operation, and allowing the
Uri-Mikkos-Rosalind plot to have full access to all of the intelligence
reports on the state of Baltar's talks with the Cylons.
     Still....he would wait and see what Micah could come up with.  He
knew Micah might have reacted negatively to the thought of trying to get
information about the woman he was engaged to and her brother on the
grounds that it meant becoming an informant.  That was why he had told
him to be upfront with them and promise that discretion would be
maintained.  That would likely make it easier to then get clues about the
new identity of the third name on the Collective list.  For now, Adama
was inclined to think that person was much closer to the matter of the
virus as a result of the "gaming" activities Micah had described.
     The one remaining part of the investigation for Adama that was
entirely in his hands was finding out from Ila if any of these names
associated with the Destruction were involved with the current Resistance
movement.  He had yet to tell her of the treachery of Sire Uri, who had
been her benefactor at the Caprican Fine Arts Institute and he knew that
moment had to come.  But was it possible that Mikkos, Rosalind and Ashera
could have taken advantage of their roles in the plot to escape death
that night? 
     At the same time, Adama didn't want to put his wife in a state of
distress regarding potential dangers to the Resistance, especially now
that she was separated from it aboard the Pegasus and how it would be
some time before she would return and learn its present condition.  He
knew just how valuable a role Ila was playing as Cain's trusted advisor
and confidant and the worst thing he could do was undermine that. 
Especially with the challenges that currently lay before the Pegasus with
Gomorrah and then in all likelihood the Cannes Garrison.
     Like Sergeant Micah with his beloved Miranda, he would handle this
matter with Ila in only the most delicate way he possibly could.
     The chime to the door sounded and when he saw Colonel Tigh enter the
room, he immediately relaxed because he knew right away that his coming
in person meant the crisis on the Paz Goria had ended on a positive note. 
Had it still been going on or had it taken a dark turn, the Executive
Officer wouldn't have taken the time to come from the Bridge to talk to
him in person.
     The day after the emotional highs of yesterday was turning out not
to have as many letdowns as he would have feared.

Chapter Six

     Those from the Paz Goria who had been most affected by the effects
of excess CO2 inhalation had received quick emergency treatment from Dr.
Rena on the Constellation.  Two from the Engineering detail and Captain
Leyland had then been transferred to the Galactica where Dr. Salik's
follow-up study confirmed that the ship's master had clearly suffered
from the effects of increased inhalation caused by his personal
inspection of the ship when he'd gone without a mask in ignorance of the
air scrubber breakdown due to the loss of internal communications.
     Upon hearing Boomer's report of what had happened, in conjunction
with Dr. Salik's medical report, Adama decided that no disciplinary
action would be taken against Captain Leyland and that he would continue
to draw his full salary in accordance with the Colonial Merchant fleet
pay scale.  But there was no question in Adama's mind that the Captain's
failure to have the Paz Goria more thoroughly checked when the
opportunity had presented itself at Brylon Station represented a case of
negligence that could not be ignored.  He had no intention of letting
Leyland return to command even if the Paz Goria could be repaired, which
at this stage looked doubtful.  He had ordered the Century to relieve the
Constellation of towing the damaged freighter for now and had also
ordered shuttle teams of men in protective gear to begin a tedious
process of removing stacks of valuable cargo from inside the ship for
dispersal to other cargo freighters in the Fleet.  Food crates would be
removed first followed by electronic parts and then raw minerals last. 
The process would take a minimum of several cycles and would also
necessitate slowing down the speed of the Fleet even further to allow for
operations to continue.
     As the evening cycle began, Adama found himself facing the
repercussions of this incident with the Council when a delegation
consisting of Sire Xaviar and Sire Hanlon arrived in his quarters.  The
fact that Lydia had chosen not accompany them was from Adama's standpoint
a bad sign, because it meant that whatever they were going to say it was
not going to be something he could easily dismiss.
     "This whole matter of the Paz Goria shows that we may well have
other ships that are ticking time bombs of failing relay circuits and
decayed wiring," Hanlon said, "As long as we're in proximity to another
Earth-type system from a resource standpoint, I think it would be
advisable to stop there and give us some time to thoroughly inspect our
more vulnerable ships and see if this system has any resources we can
draw from to affect further repairs."
     "Yes," Xaviar nodded firmly.  "We can't possibly rush our way
forward at this stage, Adama, if we end up threatening the stability of
important ships."
     And slowing down at this point helps him score a point for this
"Turn Back" strategy he's devising, Adama tried not to visibly grimace. 
He knows that the more distance we put between ourselves and the Colonies
the more it undermines his whole argument.  But if we slow down, it gives
him time to stir up the people about how it's possible to turn back.
     But Adama knew it would be dangerous to accuse the two Councillors
of having an ulterior motive.  He would have to make his argument from
another angle.
     "We are not too far removed from the end of Risik space, gentlemen,"
Adama said calmly.  "It was agreed that from a military necessity, it was
more advisable to bypass this next system entirely and concentrate our
deep patrol scan efforts on what lies further ahead."
     "Before today that made sense," Xaviar said, "The Paz Goria
situation changes the dynamic.  We need to take the time to inspect more
of our vulnerable ships so we don't get dealt anymore sudden shocks like
we saw today.  And you know we can't conduct such an inspection if we're
moving at the maximum Fleet speed."
     "Ship inspections are overdue," Adama admitted, "But we must make
sure that such inspections occur in an atmosphere of total safety."
     "And run the risk of more incidents like what happened today because
we didn't act soon enough?" Hanlon retorted.  "Adama, I'm sorry but that
is simply reckless.  If the safety of our ships is of primary importance
to you, then prudence dictates you have us slow down now and not rush
this journey forward."
     "You're prepared to introduce a resolution to that effect?"
     "In a word, yes," Xaviar said bluntly.  "I intend to introduce such
a resolution tomorrow and if Sire Hanlon and I didn't already have five
additional committed votes on the matter of safety and prudence, we
wouldn't be standing here in front of you right now."
     *Damn.*
     "We made this visit as a courtesy to make you understand it would be
a waste of time to have us go through a prolonged debate on this subject
tomorrow," Hanlon emphasized.  "The sooner you accept the inevitability
on this point, then we can move on to more important matters."
     "Such as the long-term question of where does the Fleet go."  Adama
decided to throw caution to the wind.
     Xaviar smiled thinly and shook his head, "Adama, don't treat me like
a fool.  We're not going to settle that question tomorrow.  But I think
even you would acknowledge that having us jeopardize safety for the sake
of rushing ahead wouldn't help your argument just as it wouldn't help my
argument to have us turn back tomorrow when there are safety issues to
deal with first."  Adama knew he'd been checkmated and absent a specific
military threat, he knew he couldn't sway them.
     "Very well," he said with all the equanimity he could summon.  "I
will draw up a specific list of ships that merit an inspection during
this slow-down period.  But I would warn you Sire Xaviar not to advocate
that such inspections extend to every ship in the Fleet, which you *know*
would not be a reasonable request."
     "I would not think of being unreasonable, Adama," Xaviar's tone
abruptly became conciliatory, "I trust you completely to provide an
accurate list of ships that will be inspected."
     Score one for him.  He's left me with enough deference on that point
to not come off like a bully.  He obviously wants to play this
right.....and fairly.  And that's what makes him much more formidable.
     After he had finished his business with the Councillors, his next
call was to Major Croft.


     "Well?" Croft inquired of Wilker as he entered the Electronics Lab.
     Wilker proudly stood alongside Septimus, "The reboot did the trick. 
Commander Septimus is ready for duty as a member of the FIU."
     "Indeed," the partially assembled IL Cylon said, "My respite was
most.....refreshing."
     "Glad to know you're feeling fit, Septimus," Croft said,   "We've
got a lot of work ahead of us for the next three sectans.  The initial
assignment was big enough but I just came from the Commander's office and
it's suddenly gotten a *lot* bigger."
     "Indeed?" Septimus was clearly intrigued, "And what might that be?"
     "Well, our original assignment was to make the most thorough study
of the military situation that exists from the Risik Frontier all the way
back to the Colonies, utilizing all available data from the Galactica,
from the Baseship and what we're also just finding out now from the
Pegasus.  It seems that an old acquaintance of yours revealed a good deal
of information from his data tapes that are going to be forwarded to us."
     "Oh, you mean from what was left of dear old Lucifer?" Septimus said
with an air of dry contempt.  "That was a *most* appropriate ending he
met.  It will feel so.....satisfying to know that we will have indirectly
been working together in a way in which *I* am unquestionably the senior
partner."
     "I guess so," Croft allowed himself a chuckle, "The FIU's been
assigned its own workspace to conduct our studies.  Tomorrow morning
you'll be wheeled over there by a new member of the Security team
assigned to you."
     "Oh?  What's become of Sergeant Micah?"
     "Reassigned," Croft said simply.  
     "Hmm, a pity.  He was a most pleasant personality to be around."
     "Yeah, well.  Reassignments do happen from time to time."
     "I suppose so.  But.....it occurs to me that you did not mention
what else has been added to the FIU's responsibilities in addition to
evaluating the military situation."
     "Oh yes," Croft chided himself, "In addition to all of that, we're
supposed to factor in the ability of the ships of the Fleet to survive
the journey back based on their overall age and structural history.  In
short, assuming the military danger is low, can a Fleet this size make it
back without losing a large number of ships based on structural and
systems breakdown owing to the fact that so many weren't made for deep
space travel."
     "Hmmm.  That does make our task more formidable.  But I am ready to
begin tomorrow!"
     "Looking forward to it, Septy," Croft said with a cheerful air as he
then motioned Wilker to go to the adjoining room in the Lab so they could
talk in private.  Once they were in the next room, the Major dropped his
voice to a confidential level.
     "When his systems came back on did he say anything more about the
'Makers'?"
     "I was almost afraid to ask him, because I was worried it might send
him back into a shutdown mode again," the Electronics Scientist sighed. 
"But.....I finally summoned the nerve."
     "And?"
     Wilker shook his head, "He said he had nothing to say at this time
about that topic."


     "So Sheba and little Bethany were able to leave the Life Station?"
Starbuck asked as he sat across from Cassiopeia in the private room
they'd reserved for dinner aboard the Rising Star.
     "Bethany Two," Cassiopeia gently corrected.  "Sheba and Apollo have
decided that they shouldn't follow Athena and Boomer's example with
Little Ila and Little Zac."
     "Well, that makes sense.  It does have a more dignified sound,"
Starbuck said casually as he took a puff on his fumarello.
     "But to answer your question, yes.  They were discharged and both
with a clean bill of health.  Sheba will have one of our med-tech nurses
to help out for the next sectar."
     "And by then she'll probably start figuring out how to get herself
back to flight duty," Starbuck said, his tone still casual, his glance
slightly askance.  "Especially now that she's in touch with her father
again.  He's definitely going to be expecting it."
     "I guess so," Cassiopeia took a sip of ambrosa and noticed how
Starbuck seemed to be more casual than usual considering all the effort
and expense he'd clearly gone to, to get this room booked for the
evening.  "So....did you get what you needed on the Malocchio?"
     "Yeah, I took care of what I had to do there," he looked down and
took the fumarello out of his mouth, avoiding eye contact with her.  "It
wasn't that important.  Nothing we have to talk about now.  Maybe some
other time."
     "Whatever you say," Cassie felt she'd just gotten her confirmation
that Starbuck had seen Ama about something personal and private, and
whatever it was, she wasn't sure she could get him to coherently explain
it outside of the Empyrean Wise Woman's presence.
     "But you know something, Cass," he was still looking down but the
casualness had suddenly disappeared from his voice like a light switch
going off.  "There are some things we do have to talk about now.  Things
that I.....never thought I'd find myself talking about now.  But.....as a
result of what happened yesterday, I found myself having a long talk with
myself and I realized that it was time for me to be honest about
something important and.....do something about it."
     Cassiopeia lifted an eyebrow and in the back of her head a tiny
spark of realization was starting to go off.  A spark that up to now she
had refused to ever be lit because it represented an expectation she
couldn't let herself hang hopes on.
     Dear Lords is it possible......
     Starbuck seemed to fumble as he pulled out a small, nondescript box
from the folds of his tunic.  Looking her directly in the eye, he opened
it up, revealing inside a bracelet that was clearly marked with the
traditional Colonial symbols of fidelity and faithfulness, all
intertwined with a stylized image of the fabled Galactican Bird with a
tiny silver star of Kobol clutched in its intricately carved talons and
glittering green stones for eyes.
     "I hope you like it, Cass......I had it made especially for you," he
licked his lips nervously and took her hands in his as her heart begun to
pound, feeling as if it might burst from her chest. 
     And then, in the most sincere tone of voice he'd ever used in his
life, the next words rapidly tumbled out, "Cassiopeia, will you consent
to be sealed with me?"
          
Fleeing from the Cylon tyranny.......the last Battlestar, Galactica leads
a rag-tag fugitive fleet on a lonely quest.  A shining planet
called.....Earth.