Battlestar Galactica: What Goes Around, Comes Around
Virtual Season 5, Episode #7
By Eric Paddon

From the Adama Journals

     The Fleet at present is in a state that can best be described as
outward calm, but with a boiling tension beneath the surface that
threatens to explode in the near future.  The calm I attribute to the
fact that our enemy of recent sectars, the Risik, has disappeared as a
threat.  This has allowed us to complete all inspection work on ships
that were in clear need of maintenance work and overhaul lest a similar
incident like that of the Paz Goria happen again.  We have also welcomed
our eleven new arrivals from the planet "Liberty", and, they are fast
adjusting to their new homes with ease.  Just as the eight hundred who
chose to stay behind on Liberty have fast adjusted, thanks to the
technical assistance we provided them before leaving.  These events have
allowed for more self-reflection about the state of our lives and our
overall journey that has resumed.  And it is from this self-reflection
that the tension becomes obvious.
     It is not that we are without things to feel grateful for in our
lives.  In these last few sectans we have seen Starbuck and Cassiopeia
become sealed to each other at long last.  We have seen Apollo and
Sheba's newborn, Bethany Two grow in strength.  And of course there is
the continued communications we enjoy with the Pegasus.  Where messages
go back and forth over vast distances of space in defiance of all
previously known laws of science, and provide us with much needed news
and information of friends and loved ones, and their continued journey
back to the Colonies and a great Resistance movement none of us until
recently could have comprehended the existence of.
     And yet......those messages are also the source of the underlying
tension in our Fleet.  Reminding us that for some, contact is not enough. 
For them, the existence of the Pegasus and their journey homeward to the
worlds we left behind, is a sign that we too must turn our Fleet around
and join their cause.  These people, who represent perhaps a quarter of
the population, have come to be known as the 'Turn Back' movement.  And
they have found an intelligent advocate for their point of view on the
Council in the form of Sire Xaviar.  In the last few sectans, Xaviar has
steadily increased his public presence in the Fleet to make the case for
why he believes we should go back.  It seems that a day doesn't go by
without Xaviar appearing on the IFB giving yet another interview on the
subject.  While I am not convinced he can get a majority to agree with
him.......the longer this movement persists raise troubling questions for
us.  Will we be able to maintain unity in the journey to Earth?  Will we
see our people fracture apart?  And what of the Earth natives in our
ranks?  Will an increase in this "Turn Back" sentiment lead to a backlash
against them?
     The difficulty of this challenge for me is that I understand their
desire to go home.  Especially since I would have the most to gain if we
did.  And yet......I know that my beloved Ila does not want me to abandon
my calling to lead the people to Earth for her sake only.  Just as she
knows that I don't want her to abandon her calling to help the Resistance
for my sake only.  We have both heard the voices of the Lords calling us
to paths that leave no room for us to be together again as one body.  We
must let ourselves be content to be of one spirit again through our
messages to each other.  And through our prayers for each other's safe
deliverance toward our final goals in life.
     I must remain......strong.

Chapter One

     "Hello, Baby.  I won't say I hope you're doing well, because I
*know* you're doing well.  I've seen that in our chats, brief as they've
been, your private messages, and what I've picked up from the messages
Adama and Apollo have sent to Ila.  It's the greatest blessing to me to
know the happiness you've found with Apollo and your new family aboard
the Galactica.  And making me a grandfather with Boxey and Bethany Two
makes me even more proud, though as I've said before, I hope the demands
of motherhood don't keep you from returning to a viper cockpit some day. 
You're that good, because of *your* ability and not just because you
happen to be my daughter."
            Commander Cain took a breath that his daughter found telling. 
It was the kind of gesture that indicated he had something of great
importance to tell her, only he wasn't sure if he should get to the point
yet.  That maybe the way to tell her what was on his mind was to put it
off by going into detail about something else first.
     "Now....as to our general situation.  It's still the same.  Gomorrah
is behind us but we're still a long ways from Cannes.  We're taking
advantage of that by being slow and methodical in coming up with a battle
plan.  We've had to get 15 new crews of Cylon pilots integrated into our
system, but that seems to be working well.  Obviously it helps that we've
already had a team of "enlightened" Cylons with us led by Commander
Cobre, because I don't think we could have done it ourselves."
     And then her father took another breath as though he was gathering
strength.  Sheba knew he'd run out of preliminaries and would have to
come to the heart of the matter.  And she already had an inkling of what
it was going to be.  Ila's last message to Apollo had mentioned Cain was
going to have something important to tell Sheba.  She and her husband had
speculated about it and come to one conclusion.  And if they were right,
she had another hunch that she was sure would also be confirmed.
     "Now......I might as well get to the real reason why I had to send
you a message now, Baby.  This.....isn't easy for me to tell you, when I
think back how badly I handled things with you and Cassiopeia. 
And.....even though I know things are different now, and you and Cassie
are good friends, I know it still can't be easy for you to hear me say
something like this, but......before I do, let me first tell you
that......your mother's place in my heart is always secure.  Always.  You
*are* your mother in so many ways, and not just how you look.  You're a
living legacy to her as much as you are to me, and.....I'm so happy to
know you've made sure that legacy carries on by naming your daughter
after her.  Make sure Bethany the Second grows up knowing who her
grandmother was and how honored and revered she was in the Colonies as
the greatest actress who ever performed on a stage."
     Sheba found herself smiling faintly.  Not because her speculations
had been confirmed.  Her father was exposing a vulnerability she'd never
seen before, yet at the same time he'd show it with total dignity and
enough restraint to keep from becoming emotional.  It reflected all
facets of his personality on display at once. 
     "Well.....this is my way of telling you that......I've begun a new
relationship with a woman.  And......I consider it serious.  Serious
enough that some day, I intend to marry her.  It's not close to that
stage yet, but I wouldn't have begun this if I wasn't willing to
eventually get sealed.  I can't make the same mistake I made with
Cassiopeia.  If I'm going to have a serious relationship with a woman,
she has to know that she'll become my wife someday.  Otherwise......it's
just being irresponsible on my part, and not being fair to the woman."
     "I understand, Father," Sheba said softly as she watched and saw how
he was trying to walk a fine line of explaining things so she didn't draw
the wrong conclusion.  But Sheba was no longer of capable of drawing a
wrong conclusion when it came to her father on something like this.  She
knew how much his heart had been shattered by the loss of her mother. 
She knew how much he had struggled afterwards.  Cassiopeia had told her
more than once how much Cain still worshiped his wife's memory and wanted
to keep her on a higher plane by never letting anyone else be his wife. 
     "That was always the fatal flaw in our relationship," Cassie had
told her, "I could be his lover, his mistress, his concubine, his
partner, his girlfriend......every term imaginable except......wife. 
That title he wanted to be your mother's only, forever.  And sooner or
later, I would have told him he couldn't keep me under those rules."
     And I guess I used to hope I could give him enough love as his
daughter, so he wouldn't *need* another woman in his life, Sheba thought. 
That's why I resented his relationship with Cassiopeia so much.  But it
would have been that way with *anyone* back then.  I had to learn to get
over that.  And Lords be praised, I am over that now.  I can't resent the
idea that my father needs someone to love as much as he loved my mother
and then Cassiopeia.  Especially when I'm married to a man who learned
how to move beyond the tragedy of losing a wife.  I'd be the biggest
hypocrite in the universe if I couldn't accept my father becoming serious
with a woman again.
     "So anyway," Cain went on, "Now that I've told you I've begun a
relationship, you're entitled to know who it is.  It's......someone you
know."
     "Kylie," Sheba said aloud, "It's Kylie, right?."
     "Bridge Officer Kylie," her father said.  "I......know that might
sound like a violation of rules against fraternization, but.....we're not
operating under those rules any longer."
     I knew it!  I knew it! 
     "You probably remember Kylie as just a good Bridge Officer, but
she's more than that, Sheba.  She's shown her courage under fire as a
warrior more than once, and......she's also got a special way with
children too.  Wallis and Kelli, our two agro-techs have two kids and
they absolutely adore her.  She's the favorite aunt who reads and acts
out stories and plays games with them when she's off-duty. 
And......there are other things too, but the bottom line is, she's a
wonderful woman, and I love her.  And I hope she'll be a bigger part of
my life as time goes on and we put some other obstacles behind us. 
Anyway.....she knows I'm telling you about us, and......if it's okay with
you, she hopes you and she can exchange messages at some point.  But if
it's too soon for you to contemplate that, Baby, I......understand.  Just
remember always that no matter what happens between me and Kylie, your
mother's memory remains precious to me.  And in my heart......I know
she's given me her blessing as well.  I'm sure her blessing was always
there for me, it's just......it's taken me this long to realize it was
there."
     And forgive me, Father, for making you doubt it was there during all
that time I behaved so badly to Cassiopeia, Sheba thought.
     "Anyway.....that's all for now.  I've.....got to get back to
planning for Cannes.  I don't know if I'll be in touch again before we
plunge into that, but......I give you my promise that we *will* be
talking again, soon."
     And then he stepped closer to the camera so she could see his face
more clearly.
     "Give my granddaughter a kiss and tell my grandson, that when I'm
done with the Cannes mission, he'll get a firsthand account of the battle
direct from me.  I'm looking forward to getting to know Boxey better as
time permits us.  And maybe.....we'll improve these miracle technologies
so we can talk longer in real time than we've been able to."
     And then a final sigh, "I love you, Baby."
     The message ended and Sheba leaned back with a thoughtful air. 
After several microns of letting herself detune, she pressed the chime to
let  Apollo know  it was okay to come in.  As soon as her husband
entered, Sheba wasted no time getting to the point.
     "We were right," she said.  "He's found a new girlfriend."
     "And it was.....Kylie?"
     "Yes," Sheba nodded, "It's Kylie."
     "My mother says she's her best friend next to Cain on the Pegasus,"
Apollo sat down on the edge of the bed across from her while she closed
her personal comp and set it on the table next to the bed.  "What do you
remember of her?"
     "She's bright, beautiful and dedicated.  There wasn't a chance in
Hades she would have let herself get evacuated to the Galactica.  I
always knew there were rumors about her being in love with my Father."
     "And he never noticed?" 
     "She never let herself show it," Sheba said simply.  "It was more of
an......inner vibe she gave off that made everyone realize she was in
love with him, but she wouldn't admit it.  Her former bunkmate, Carina,
is in the Fleet and she told me whenever she'd tease Kylie about being in
love with my father she'd laugh it off and insist it was just simple hero
worship.  I think.....she was just being sensible and decided  it was
ridiculous to think anything could ever happen between her and my Father,
so she kept her true feelings hidden."
     She then looked at her husband and smiled, "But.....we all know how
circumstances can change and make people finally confront their real
feelings, don't we?"
     He returned it, "We sure do.  I'm happy for him and I hope it
lasts."
     "So do I," Sheba leaned her head back against the pillow, "He
deserves it.  I'm glad he told me about it.  I.....just wish I could find
the strength to tell him about......"
     The smile faded from Apollo's face, replaced by an uneasy
expression.
     "I know," he said quietly.  "I feel the same way about telling my
mother.  They *have* to know about Iblis and what happened to Ensign
Wynn, but.....how do you explain it and how do you warn them about him? 
If Iblis's going to try something with them, he's certainly not going to
do it appearing as himself as we knew him."
     "No," Sheba sighed, "But......Adama says we should wait until after
the Cannes mission at least.  Cannes is going to be their biggest test
and to burden them with the whole story about Iblis wouldn't be helpful
to them right now."  She then amended, "Part of the story at least.  I
don't.....ever want him to know about........" she trailed off and
shuddered.
     Her husband nodded in silent understanding.  "He never will.  And
neither will my mother."  Trying to change the subject to a happier one,
he then said, "From what my mother says about Kylie, I wouldn't be
surprised if she played a role in bringing them together."
     Sheba was grateful for the change in subject, "Neither would I."
     Left unspoken was the fact that Sheba was now more grateful than
ever for her mother-in-law's presence aboard the Pegasus.  Ila had given
Cain the presence of a peer to confide in, and a friend who had brought
hope and meaning to his life again.  That was why despite the pain she
knew her husband still felt over her physical absence from his life, and
the fear she knew he carried over Ila becoming a potential target of
Iblis's one day, Sheba was glad Ila was there for the long-haul on the
Pegasus.


     On the Rising Star, another message from the Pegasus was being
viewed on a personal comp.  Like Cain's to Sheba, it was the message of a
father to his child.  And like Cain's, there was awkwardness in it as
well.  The difference was that unlike Cain and Sheba, the relationship
between the two had been one of total estrangement for more than a
decade.
     "Hello, Jarvik, it's......me, your father," there was a heavy air of
sadness in the Aerian brogue of Dr. Laughlin, the Pegasus Chief Medical
Officer.  "I.....suppose you're surprised I've sent this, since I made no
effort to contact you three yahrens ago when I learned you were alive. 
I.....want to apologize for that.  I owed you a message even if all we
would have shared was a brief hello and goodbye for a micron.  But.....my
pride got in the way once I heard you were still working for Siress Lydia
as her pilot.  And......I suppose your pride got in the way of reaching
out to me when there was time.
     "I do want to assure you of one thing.  I didn't stay behind with
the Pegasus instead of leaving with more than half my staff because I
wanted to avoid you.  I only stayed because I felt it was my duty to
Commander Cain.  I've been with him for so many yahrens, that I couldn't
have left him even if we had patched things up.  It would have weighed
too much on my conscience over time.  Much in the same way, I guess, that
my conscience is weighing heavily right now over the fact we haven't
spoken to each other for so many yahrens.
     "Anyway, Son, I......can't presume to know what your life has been
like since we had our final rupture.  If you think you've been happy with
the choice you made, then.....I guess there's nothing I can say about
that.  There'd be no point in my saying anything you haven't already
heard me say before about Lydia and what I think of her, because....." he
stopped and lowered his head slightly as if he were trying to avoid
showing emotion to his son's face.  And that would have been in keeping
with how his son had always seen his father when growing up.  Always
turning away until he felt he was under control.
     Finally, just as he'd always done, he recovered and looked back up
again.
     "Hades, Jarvik, I won't waste time on that.  No matter what you're
doing now, it doesn't change the fact I was a bad father to you. 
And.....I'm sorry for that.  When your mother died, the last thing I
should have done was send you off to a boarding school.  I'm sure it
seemed like I didn't care or didn't want to handle the responsibility of
raising you alone, and....there's truth in that.  I mean.....I always in
my mind thought I was doing right by you by sending you to a good school
and letting you be with others your age, but.....I never stopped to
realize what you needed most was me to help you deal with the pain of
losing your mother.  I just.....thought too much of myself and my own
sense of loss, that I felt like I needed to get away from our whole home
environment and sign on with the Pegasus.  But......I never meant to hurt
you, Son.  Never.  I know that's no consolation for what I put you
through, with all that loneliness you went through at school because you
kept to yourself.  But....it is the truth."
     Jarvik shut the recording off.  This was his second time through it
and he already knew what else was left.  He'd listened a second time
trying to figure out how he was supposed to feel and how he was supposed
to respond to this.  To his horror, he found he still didn't know what
the answer was.
     I want to be grateful he contacted me and said all that, and
yet.....I'm afraid to let myself feel that way because if I do, it just
makes me hate myself more and more for what I've become.  And if I hate
myself for what I've become......I won't be able to go on.  If I'm to
keep myself sane, I have to go back to accepting what I've always been
these last eleven yahrens for Lydia.
     It always used to be so easy to enjoy what he had.  A well-paying
job that gave him five times more than he'd ever earned as a commercial
transport pilot on Aeries.  The ability to travel in the highest circle
of Colonial Elite society.  And the biggest dividend was the access to
Lydia herself.  When Lydia recruited him, he'd been engaged to a fellow
pilot in the transport service.  A "nice girl" by every definition of the
term, but someone he didn't have strong feelings for.  The entire
relationship had developed from a mutual friend acting as a would-be
matchmaker to two people who'd always been shy and lonely, and for Jarvik
it always felt like something he'd reluctantly forced himself into.  Much
like his whole career as a transport pilot always seemed like something
he'd forced himself into.  It allowed him to make a decent living, but
there was also the sense of being at a perpetual dead-end in his life. 
     That was why he'd been so receptive to Lydia's charm.  He'd first
met her when the Aerian Siress was a passenger aboard one of the
transports he was flying.  Ordinarily, the elegant lady of Colonial Elite
never would have been caught dead in a commercial transport.  But she
wanted to see up-close prospective candidates for hiring as her personal
shuttle pilot, and for Lydia there were two things she wanted.  One,
someone young and handsome.  Two, someone dissatisfied with the world of
commercial transport flying who would jump at a chance to be part of the
Elite Class society.  It was clear to Lydia that Jarvik more than filled
both prerequisites.
     Jarvik had promptly resigned from the transport service, broken his
engagement and had his last break with his father, who saw him throwing
away his life and his principles to become the plaything of a
self-indulgent hedonist.  His father's angry reaction though, only
intensified Jarvik's determination to embrace his new job and his new
role with the beautiful Siress.  And for eleven yahrens.....he'd enjoyed
it.  Fulfilling the role of her loyal, well-paid subordinate, who could
also enjoy her company physically on those occasions when Lydia wasn't
engaged in a more serious relationship.  But Jarvik never minded, because
he could tell that all of Lydia's more "serious" affairs usually had an
ulterior motive aimed at advancing her interests.  That had allowed Lydia
to go far in the business and social world of Aerian circles.
     But Jarvik knew that Lydia's success in the business and social
world wasn't exclusively the result of her seduction skills.  Lydia had a
keen sense of business acumen that allowed the companies she headed to be
successful and it enabled her to rub shoulders with the powerful and
influential figures of the Aerian civil government and get favorable
deals that kept her at the top level of Colonial Elite society.  The
prominence she'd earned legitimately was why Adama offered her a seat on
the Council of Twelve after the Destruction since no one from the Aerian
civil government had survived.  Although Lydia had no particular love of
or affinity for politics, she knew maintaining her social prominence in
the conditions of the Fleet dictated it.  So she'd accepted the
appointment.
     It would have been better if she hadn't, Jarvik sighed.  If she
hadn't, then she would have just stayed in Elite Class on the Rising Star
and maybe.....
     No, he thought.  He was naive to think Lydia might have been open to
expanding their relationship to something more long-term.  No matter what
Lydia did, she would always view Jarvik as a convenient stopgap between
more promising targets.  Long-term monogamy was a concept totally alien
to Lydia's instincts.  Not to a woman who saw herself as the living
incarnation of an Aerian fertility goddess who thrived on sexual pleasure
from as many men she could have.  In that context, Jarvik would have
remained just the occasional lover, or one part of the harem.  The
difference was that because he was her pilot and her loyal subordinate,
she would always have a place for him, even when the more prominent
lovers were cast aside.  That was all she'd ever give him, politics or no
politics.
     But when Lydia decided to get involved with politics by taking the
seat on the Council, and becoming involved with the handsome Sire Antipas
of Libra, Jarvik could see a distinct change in her.  Now, Lydia found
herself enjoying the gamesmanship of politics with all its intrigues. 
Antipas, who was ambitious and quietly harbored goals of one day usurping
total leadership of the Fleet from Adama, had certainly kindled that in
Lydia.  And Lydia had become an obedient pupil, studying Antipas's
methods and learning well how the art of politics required the same kind
of ruthless determination for getting ahead that Lydia had demonstrated
in the Aerian business and social realms.  And the more Lydia learned,
the more she found politics becoming intoxicating to her in the same way
sexual pleasure did.
     A critical tipping point for Lydia came when her relationship with
Antipas inverted itself.  When Antipas's past crime for his role in
engineering the theft of priceless art treasures from the Libran
Antiquities Museum had been exposed, and the ensuing fallout had resulted
in the deaths of two of Antipas's accomplices in the theft as well as the
death of Antipas's private bodyguard Kimo.  But what Lydia alone had
discovered was that Antipas had murdered Kimo to cover-up his bodyguard's
knowledge of more embarrassing details that would have ended Antipas's
political career.  The only way Antipas could escape the scandal
associated with the Museum theft would be if he'd committed no other
criminal acts in the post-Destruction period.  Kimo knew that wasn't
true.  Kimo had even killed the head of Colonial Security, Lieutenant
Didion as part of his effort in "cleaning up" Antipas's criminal actions
in the post-Destruction period.  It was imperative for Antipas to then
kill Kimo, first to cover-up knowledge of Kimo's murder of the Security
Chief, and then to keep Kimo from ever revealing just how deep Antipas's
criminal conduct was.
     Lydia had been able to deduce the truth.  And she had taken
advantage of it by blackmailing Antipas into total submission.  Now *she*
would be the dominant partner in their relationship.  And any advancement
in political opportunity for Antipas, would mean advancement for herself
as the "power behind the throne".  Jarvik could tell from the beginning
just how much Lydia enjoyed this new combination of sex and power.  At
the time it only enhanced his admiration and devotion to her, even if the
Antipas relationship had curtailed the sexual side of it for him.  In the
back of Jarvik's mind he was convinced it would only be a matter of time
before Lydia would finally realize that Antipas was expendable and she
could emerge from his shadow.  When that day come, he knew she'd indulge
him again.
     Antipas's downfall had eventually come thanks to outside events
forcing Lydia's hand into revealing her knowledge of her lover's
additional crimes.  Lydia herself had adroitly avoided any scandal being
attached to herself and parlayed things into becoming the first ever
Vice-President of the Council of Twelve.  Now she had reached the near
peak of how far she could go.  All that was left was to wait for the
opportunity when she could displace Adama from total leadership.  For
that, Jarvik knew Lydia would bide her time.  Lydia was aware just how
enormous the responsibility of leadership was and she needed to spend as
much time studying the fine art of leadership.  Knowing when to be
deferential to Adama and not challenging his authority.  Knowing when and
where to make inroads with the populace.  Leadership could only become
hers when she could take advantage of a situation that would make the
people as a whole legitimately question Adama's leadership.
     The arrival of Commander Kevin Byrne to the Fleet had seemingly
presented the perfect opportunity for Lydia.  The Earth native who had
been without female companionship since the death of his wife nineteen
yahrens earlier was more than willing to be receptive to the charms of a
woman like Lydia.  Despite the misgivings of Byrne's daughter Jena, a
relationship had begun that saw Lydia act with more meticulous care than
she had in her relationship with Antipas.  For Lydia, the key to a
relationship with Commander Byrne was to ensure his support whenever the
time came to oppose Adama on a critical point that would ultimately
enhance Lydia's power as well.
     But then for the first time, Lydia lost control of events.  Her
affair with Byrne had come to an abrupt, crashing halt when Lydia had
leaked the news of Petty Officer Jessica Clemens' rescue to the IFB. 
Jarvik could tell that Lydia had not been prepared for this.  The woman
who had always prided herself on being in such total *control* of things,
especially when it came to the men she chose for herself, had seen all
her careful plans thrown out of whack because of something that she
didn't think amounted to much of an indiscretion. 
     The end of the relationship with Byrne had given Jarvik the chance
to enjoy Lydia's company sexually once again.  But Jarvik could tell that
Lydia had been affected by the loss of Byrne.  Not only had she lost the
relationship but Byrne had effectively turned all of the sentiment among
the Earth natives against her.  As far as the Earth natives were
concerned, Siress Lydia was a devious person who had no true regard for
their well-being.  That meant that if Lydia had any thought of turning to
another Earth native from the ranks of prisoners rescued from the Risik,
that wasn't going to happen.  And any hope of using the Earth population
as a base for challenging Adama's leadership in the future was
permanently gone.
     He could sense the restlessness in Lydia during their lovemaking. 
The sense that he was just providing her with an outlet to vent while she
tried to figure out what she could do next.  But he'd always been so
devoted to Lydia that he didn't stop to ask himself if maybe.....just
maybe things were getting too dangerous.  That he should start
reassessing his relationship to Lydia.  He was just happy to know she
still wanted him when she needed relief, that he willingly obliged her.
     But it was obvious that Lydia was raging inside for some new way of
undermining Adama's leadership.  And only recently during one of their
lovemaking sessions, but before news had surfaced about the Pegasus, did
Lydia reveal that she *had* undertaken a step aimed at undercutting
Adama.  Something that had caught Jarvik off-guard completely because it
represented something he'd never considered his devoted mistress capable
of doing.  The actual contemplation of......murder to further her own
ends.
     Even now, Jarvik was stunned that Lydia had gone to such lengths,
but it was clear to him that the sudden end of her relationship with
Commander Byrne had pushed her into a more desperate frame of mind to try
and regain some kind of initiative.  She had confided nothing of her plan
to Jarvik beforehand.  Jarvik was used to the fact that no matter how
grateful Lydia was for Jarvik's devotion, she never saw him as a close
confidant.  If Lydia had an idea or a scheme to work with, it was
something Jarvik wouldn't know about until long after the fact.
In this case, Lydia had chosen to create an incident aimed at undermining
Adama's leadership.  Capitalizing on two events that had originally been
outside her control.  First, was the fact the Prison Barge had been
emptied of most of its population.  Her old lover, Sire Antipas, along
with Sire Galerius, Sire Elegabalus and the Il Fadim members had been
banished to permanent exile on a habitable, but hostile planet following
the Il Fadim efforts to seize control of the Fleet.  
     The fact that Antipas was no longer there however, meant that Lydia
could look to one of the remaining Prison Barge occupants as someone she
could potentially recruit for her purposes.  So long as Antipas was still
there serving his twenty-yahren sentence for Kimo's murder, that wasn't
an option since anyone she approached would inevitably talk to Antipas at
some point, and Antipas would jump at the chance to blow the whistle on
Lydia.
     But Antipas was gone, and the reduced numbers of the Prison Barge
population carried with it a chance to put forth a suggestion that it was
time to find more constructive ways of rehabilitating those who had not
chosen planetary exile.  "Work Release" programs, whereby a prisoner
could be paroled into doing more constructive assignments in the Fleet. 
In reality though, her motive for initiating this program was to get
potential recruits for her as combination lovers and operatives who could
carry out a project aimed at disrupting Adama's leadership.  She had
carefully chosen six prisoners to hire for Work Release, but only one
interested her.  The most notorious prisoner who hadn't gone into exile
with Antipas and the others.  That was Charka, the leader of the mutiny
aboard the Celestra that had resulted in the death of Commander Kronus. 
She had read Charka's file and noticed that during his Tribunal, he had
justified his conduct on the grounds that by employing cruelty against
the workers on the Maintenance Ship (without Kronus's knowledge) he was
making them more fit for carrying on the fight against the Cylons.  She
had also heard enough rumblings that as a prisoner, Charka had more than
once expressed his disdain for the entire Detente.
     From there, Lydia had chosen to capitalize on the second event
outside her control.  The injuries sustained by Captain Bojay in an
accident that had left him without multiple limbs.  And for which an
operation would be performed to give Bojay new cybernetic limbs utilizing
parts from spare Cylon parts under the supervision of captured IL Cylon
Septimus.  Lydia sensed that a deluded super-patriot like Charka would
react unfavorably to that development.  And that if properly programmed,
might be used to create an incident that could be embarrassing.
     And so she had plied her charms on Charka......and in the process
slipped him a highly concentrated drug cocktail that left his mind open
to all forms of suggestion......in this case, convincing him he needed to
barge in on the operation in the Life Station and hold everyone hostage
unless it were stopped.  And to facilitate Charka's ability to gain
access to the Life Station, Lydia herself was willing to shoot dead
Master Chief Varica, head of the work detail Charka was attached to on
the Galactica.  All so Charka could get access to Varica's security pass
and let him gain access to the Life Station and initiate his hostage
scheme.
     But Charka's plan had been thwarted.  The criminal had not been able
to implicate Lydia in the affair because he had gone totally mad and was
now confined to permanent isolation aboard the Hospital Ship that housed
other "irredeemable" medical cases such as Flight Sergeant Mattoon.  And
even though Master Chief Varica had survived the would-be killing at
Lydia's hands, he at least had not witnessed Lydia pulling the trigger at
him.  For now, Lydia was safe from exposure and because nothing had
happened since then to suggest she was under suspicion, Lydia seemed to
think she was "in the clear" as it were.  That was why she'd felt safe
confessing the whole matter to Jarvik, knowing he would never betray her.
     But the revelation had for the first time produced a seed of doubt
inside Jarvik.  He had always accepted Lydia as an opportunist.  Someone
who knew how to take advantage of a situation and get ahead.  But to
actually engineer an incident in which lives could have been lost just on
a forlorn hope that *maybe* people would lose confidence in Adama's
leadership?  It made no sense to Jarvik.  Especially since Lydia herself
had faced criticism for securing Charka's release to begin with.  The
whole matter was totally unlike what he'd come to expect from Lydia in
all the yahrens he'd served her.
     Byrne drove her to it, he thought once again.  She was *depending*
so much on Byrne supporting her.  Losing Byrne just made her impatient
and impulsive.
     But Jarvik knew it had to be more than that.  Even if Lydia's
relationship with Byrne had continued he now had to face the fact that
the willingness to put lives at risk and even *kill* was something that
had always existed inside Lydia.  And to Jarvik, that was crossing a line
that none of the devotion he'd felt to the Aerian Siress could justify.
     Exposing Lydia's revelation was out of the question.  He had no
proof and Lydia would undoubtedly deny all she'd said and waste no time
cutting him loose as a jealous underling trying to blackmail her for
more.  So he had tried to make himself forget what she'd told him and
gone back to rationalizing his existence.  Until the dual news of the
Pegasus, followed by Lydia's banishment of him to his quarters.  It was
clear that her new target was Sire Xaviar of the Council of Twelve, who
had openly expressed skepticism of the need to continue to Earth now that
news of a Resistance movement in the Colonies existed.  For Jarvik,
*this* was the kind of scheme and alliance that fit Lydia's persona as
he'd understood it and not what she'd tried to do with Charka.  But now
that she'd gone that extra step, he knew he could never be sure if murder
was something Lydia would easily contemplate again.  
     And even more horrifying was the thought that he......her loyal,
obedient pilot and occasional lover, might be expected to perform such a
task like that for her.
     Small wonder that the re-emergence of his father and his awkward
message to Jarvik could only make him feel more torn and tormented. 
Breaking with Lydia was impossible.  But could he ever be able to serve
Lydia again without hating himself?
     For the first time since he was a child, he found his hands coming
together in prayer.
     Dear Lords......what am I supposed to do?
     Only time would tell.

Chapter Two

     "The Council of Twelve is now in session," Adama gave the gavel a
firm rap from his position in the President's chair at the end of the
table.  "All members are present.  Barring any questions, we will proceed
to item #1 on our agenda, which is the presentation of the Fleet
Intelligence Unit report on the overall military dangers that lie behind
us.  For the past few sectans, the FIU under Major Croft and his team
have analyzed all known data from all possible sources to assist in the
preparation of this report.  Their report is now complete and the Chair
calls upon Major Croft."
     The one-time prisoner who had been pardoned after his work on the
Ice Planet mission (in which he'd lost his estranged wife Leda), who had
then distinguished himself as Commander of the Elite Squadron unit, and
who had then taken on this new assignment of heading a military
intelligence group, rose from a chair behind Adama's position.  He went 
over to the giant navigation board that each member of the Council,
regardless of their position at the table had a clear view of.  Adama
knew how much pressure Croft had been under to get the report completed,
yet one wouldn't have known the many sleepless nights he'd endured in the
last few sectans.  The Major was freshly shaved, his hair newly cut and
his uniform immaculate like that of a warrior standing at parade
formation.  He was keenly aware how a good appearance would enable the
weight of his report to have even greater resonance with the Council
members.
     "Thank you, Commander Adama," Croft began.  "For the last few
sectans, a team of eight hand-picked members of the Fleet Intelligence
Unit, drawing from the ranks of our warriors, and including both a
representative from the Baseship *and* Commander Septimus, the
reconstituted IL Cylon, has analyzed all extant data to objectively
assess what the Fleet would face if it chose to turn back and join the
Pegasus in the effort to return to the Colonies.  In preparing this
report, and acknowledging the underlying emotional issues that are
connected to this subject, the members of the FIU team consisted equally
of those who have and don't have relatives known to be alive or possibly
alive on either the Pegasus or in the Colonies.  This was done to avoid
all hint of personal prejudice influencing the final report which
required unanimous approval by all members."
     Adama quickly glimpsed at Sire Xaviar, the most vocal member of the
emerging "Turn Back" faction to see his reaction.  The young Sire's
expression betrayed not the slightest trace of emotion.
     Croft took the pointer and traced a pathway across the screen.  "It
was agreed that if a journey back to the Colonies were  undertaken it
would dictate traversing back through familiar regions of space we have
passed through before.  This includes the entire frontiers of both the
Risik and Ziklagi Empires."
     "Major Croft," Xaviar interjected in a polite tone of voice.
     Here it comes, Adama tried not to wince.
     "Yes, Sire Xaviar?" Croft had known going into the briefing that he
would have to prepare himself to be cross-examined by members of the
Council who weren't going to like the FIU's conclusions.  That meant it
was imperative he keep his cool at all times.
     "On what basis does the FIU conclude we must go back exactly the way
we came in order to return to the Colonies?" the young Sire had now taken
out a stylus and begun making notations on a sheet of paper.  "We are not
limited to a linear pathway through space.  Any angle of approach must
eventually take us to where we want to go and are you saying there isn't
a single pathway that can avoid Risik and Ziklagi territory?"
     "Such pathways do exist, Sire Xaviar," Croft's tone remained polite. 
"But in charting them, FIU analysis discovered signs they'd be more
hazardous than the one we've already undertaken."
     "In what way?" this from Sire Hanlon, who had also made it clear he
was sympathetic to the "Turn Back" faction, though not as vocally. 
Altogether, Adama felt that Xaviar had at most three members of the
Council on his side which represented only one-third of the body.  Sire
Hanlon was a definite supporter.  Siress Eudoxia was considered 'leaning'
in the direction of supporting Xaviar.  And then of course, there was the
Council's Vice-President, Siress Lydia.  There was absolutely *no*
question where her sympathies lay.  Sympathies that were based entirely
on opportunism and personal vendettas and not in principle as Adama knew
to be true with Xaviar.
     "The most troubling sign from our standpoint was fewer promising
targets to aid us in replenishing our supplies were we to take an
alternative route," Croft said.  "We utilized captured Risk astronomical
data on a number of star systems the Fleet would encounter along an
alternate return journey.  Final analysis revealed a probability of only
15% these star systems contained planets hospitable to human life."
     "Which proves what, exactly, Major?" the edge of skepticism seemed
to increase in Hanlon's voice while Xaviar made another notation.
     "That we'd have very few choices in terms of where to stop on a
return journey to find new resources," Croft could feel the first sign of
impatience forming inside him but knew he had to fight it.
     "How can you make that conclusion?" Xaviar interjected.  "Does Risik
astronomical data confirm the level of planets with tylium supplies? 
What about planets where we *could* harness resources through use of
Cylon personnel or with landing parties that were suitably protected? 
We're not exactly in need of planets to utilize for liberty leave
purposes on a return journey, Major.  Not when we'd all be aware of the
urgency in trying to get back to help our brothers in the Resistance."
     "But such a journey can not be rushed at a speed faster than the one
we've already undertaken, Sire Xaviar," Croft held his ground.  "Not with
the condition some of our ships are in.  Even the ones that have
undergone recent overhaul these last few sectans are not capable of going
faster than they already have."
     "And you think it's somehow less dangerous to go back through the
Risik and Ziklagi frontiers than it would be to go along these alternate
paths where you say there are fewer potential supply targets?"
     Both Croft and Adama knew right away the trap Xaviar was setting. 
An admission that the way back through the more hostile regions of space
dominated by two martial races was less risky than an alternate path,
would by extension undercut any arguments that the military danger was
too great for the Fleet to handle.  But Croft was already prepared for
it.
     "We do not say it is *less* dangerous, Sire Xaviar.  It is in our
judgment *equally* dangerous for reasons independent of those that would
be faced in a return journey through the Risik and Ziklagi frontiers. 
The dangers there, are the military threats posed by first, the hostility
of the Risik and their sworn determination to defeat us.  And second,
there is the danger posed by the potential re-emergence of a hostile
Ziklagi Empire.  But in taking that route, the Fleet is assured of access
to the same venues for supplies and refueling we have previously utilized
with the singular exception of the so-called "Weather Planet" which as a
result of the Pegasus' visit is no longer capable of supporting human
life.  We in short, have two equally hostile options, one where the
danger lies in potential military threats, the other from a likely
inability to maintain supplies for the long-haul......not to mention a
much longer journey back to the Colonies in order to bypass the Risik and
Ziklagi frontiers which would defeat the purpose of trying to get back in
order to be of help to the Resistance."
     "How much longer?" Sire Hanlon interjected.
     Croft looked the Councillor in the eye, "At least a full yahren more
of overall Flight time, Sire Hanlon.  And in that context, the danger of
fewer planetary resources to consider becomes even more evident."
     The silence hung in the air for several microns and then Siress
Lydia spoke.  To Adama's surprise it wasn't to challenge the Major on
anything he'd said.
     "In the interests of simplicity and in keeping this meeting from
lasting until the close of this cycle, I think we would be in agreement
that *if* it becomes our Destiny to rejoin our brothers and sisters in
the Colonies, we would surely take the route that represents the shortest
in terms of actual time," the Vice-President said, "You may confine
yourself to the subject of the so-called military threat that you say
renders such a journey impossible."
     Adama knew that Lydia had been trying to provoke Croft by using the
term "so-called" and delivering it in a smooth, charming,
non-confrontational tone.  To his relief, the Major refused to take the
bait.  But before he could resume, Siress Tinia spoke up for the first
time.
     "I agree with the Vice-President but I would like to add something
to her remarks," the Virgonese said, "Rather than slow these proceedings
down to even further than the next cycle, Major Croft should be allowed
to finish his summary *without* constant interruption.  I think we're all
capable of digesting his remarks and debating their wisdom when he's
through and not treat this as though we're a Tribunal engaging in
constant cross-examination."
     "Hear, hear," Sire Pelias jumped in with a distinctly hostile edge.
     "Does anyone object?" Adama looked around.  He could see Xaviar with
a wry smile idly jotting with his stylus and shaking his head no.
     "Thank you, Commander," Croft said, feeling his inner tensions
dissipate.  "I will begin first by summarizing the danger that exists
from Risik forces.  This will be followed by a summary of the military
strength a resurgent Ziklagi Empire would pose in the event peace with
the Zykonians has collapsed and the government has put down the
insurrection known to be taking place there.  Finally, the known strength
of Cylon forces between Gomorrah and the Colonies."


     Croft's presentation lasted more than one and a half centars even
with no interruptions.  A testament to the voluminous detail of the FIU
report and also to Croft's thoroughness in knowing each part of it inside
out.  The major's delivery had been clear and articulate, and he'd held
the attention of all the Council members.  In particular Sire Xaviar,
whose stylus was constantly scribbling on his pad as he listened.  It was
obvious to Adama the young Councillor wasn't doing any random doodling to
pass the time.  He was taking in everything and preparing himself for
counter-arguments later on.  It was something Adama couldn't help but
admire and respect, even in an opponent.
     "And that, esteemed members of the Council, concludes our report,"
Croft didn't seem the least bit exhausted after his long presentation,
"It reflects the unanimous sentiment of the entire Fleet Intelligence
Unit."
     "Thank you, Major Croft," Adama said.  "The Chair now opens the
floor for further discussion of the FIU report and its conclusions."
     "Mr. President," Xaviar raised his arm as he made some final notions
with the stylus.
     "Sire Xaviar."
     The young Councillor put his writing implement down and rose, "I
would like to say first, Major, that you and the entire FIU team are to
be congratulated for putting this report together after many long centars
of hard work and sleepless nights.  We all speak as one voice in saluting
your dedication and all those who serve with you."
     Right away, Lydia's hands were the first to break into applause,
which soon all other members joined in on.  As Adama clapped, he could
tell right away how calculated a gesture it had been on the
Vice-President's part.  To undercut any argument that she'd shown Croft
and the FIU any disrespect.
     When the applause died down, Xaviar resumed, "I don't think anyone
could possibly dispute the thoroughness of your report on the military
strength of the Risik, the Ziklagi and the Cylon strength between
Gomorrah and the Colonies.  But I have to confess, I'm puzzled as to why
your report seems to suggest that it's inevitable we'd run into a
military crisis in *each* of these areas of space in a theoretical return
to the Colonies."
     "There is no suggestion of inevitability, Sir Xaviar," Croft kept
his tone even, "Our report is only intended to assess the potential
dangers we'd face if we found ourselves in a military confrontation in
each zone."
     "But does your report assess the probability factor that we'd find
ourselves drawn into a military clash in each of these areas?"  Xaviar's
head was down, his eyes still on his notes.  "Or is it taken for granted 
we'd first be fighting the Risik and then we'd be fighting the Ziklagi
again and then we'd be facing the entire brunt of Cylon strength back in
charted space?"
     "We don't take anything for granted, Sire Xaviar," Croft knew he had
to match the Councillor's tone.  "Just as we don't assume we'd face no
military engagements returning through these regions."
     "I certainly don't dispute that a return through the Risik frontier
would carry a high risk of conflict with their forces," Xaviar said. 
"But that is a challenge we've been able to face successfully in the
past, and I see no reason to sell our abilities short when it comes to
the prospect of dealing with them again."
     For the first time, Croft felt his composure breaking but before he
could say anything, Siress Tinia decided it was time to speak up.  "Sire
Xaviar, where is the report "selling our abilities short" as you put it?"
     Xaviar's head whipped up and locked on to Tinia and immediately a
sense of high tension came over the room.  Adama carefully raised his
gavel and was prepared to bring it down but the young Councillor then let
out a disarming smile.
     "It sounds to me Siress Tinia like you're trying to have both sides
of an argument," Xaviar said.  "Insomuch as your sentiments regarding our
future are known, they are predicated on accepting the report's
conclusions regarding the dangers we face behind us, which by default
would mean the entire argument based on not turning back to aid the
effort in liberating our homes is based on an inferiority complex
regarding our own military capability!"
     "Hear hear," Lydia said quietly, but with devastating emphasis.
     Adama then decided it was time to intervene and neutralize one
potential problem.
     "The Chair would prefer that in the interests of simplicity, members
confine their questions to Major Croft at this time and defer discussion
amongst ourselves until we are finished with him."
     Xaviar extended his palms down in a gesture to indicate quiet
acceptance of Adama's point.  Tinia settled back in her chair and the
tension in the room seemed to dissipate.
     "I only have two more questions, Major," Xaviar resumed, "In
assessing Ziklagi strength, the FIU is doing so under the assumption of
what we'd face if the current peace between them and the Zykonians were
to collapse.  Is that correct?"
     "Any journey through that region has to weigh that as a potential
possibility," Croft said.
     "But that's not based on any new intelligence that indicates the
peace is about to collapse, is it?" Xaviar gently pressed.  "Why not
assume that our journey back through that region of space would be
perfectly uneventful because the treaty our Commander successfully
negotiated is still holding together?"
     "Actually, there is intelligence to indicate the Zykonians are
concerned about hostilities erupting anew and would make an effort to
recruit the Galactica into becoming part of a renewed fight against the
Ziklagi," Croft said.  "I refer you to section 9D of the report, which
deals with the Pegasus' time at Brylon Station.  The Zykonians attempted
to deceive Commander Cain into thinking the Ziklagi engaged in sabotage
work against the Pegasus by planting a bomb inside the ship's solium
storage room.  A Ziklagi shape-shifter was to be blamed as the culprit in
the hopes of getting the Pegasus to take part in what may have been a
preemptive military strike on the Ziklagi capital.  Commander Cain and
Professor Ila were able to see through the deception and give the
Zykonians a face-saving exit, but the incident clearly shows that a
return to Brylon Station on our part would bring a renewed effort on the
part of the Zykonians to manipulate us into taking part in some renewed
campaign against the Ziklagi."
     "It would seem to me the Pegasus experience is proof the Zykonians
wouldn't dare try that kind of underhanded game again," Sire Hanlon spoke
up.  "Plus, they know we can't be taken advantage of.  This is a 'danger'
that shouldn't factor into the final outcome."
     "We would be derelict in our duty to *not* highlight the potential,
Sire Hanlon," Croft forced the disdain back down into his gut.  "The
final judgment of course, rests with you members of the Council, but the
information must be there for you to consider."
     "And you're to be commended for your thoroughness, Major," Xaviar
said smoothly, as though he sensed it was best to reclaim things from his
more impulsive ally.  "It is because your report is thorough, that I
wished to pin down this matter of whether the FIU can point to something
tangible to indicate the Ziklagi are likely to renew their
aggressiveness.  Something beyond the underlying paranoia of the
Zykonians.  Is there evidence to indicate the civil war is going in favor
of the government?  Is there evidence to indicate the Risik are aligning
themselves with the Ziklagi to create a more formidable military force in
the quadrant?  I'm not asking about potentials for it based on other
matters like the attempted deceit with the Pegasus.  I mean something
more direct."
     Croft knew he couldn't spin matters any other way, "By those
standards, Sire Xaviar, no, we can not point to anything definite that
says yes, that is happening now or is on the verge of happening.  It is
simply a theoretical danger that *could* develop."
     "And I say again, we appreciate your acknowledgment of the
theoretical danger," Xaviar again kept his tone courteous, "It simply
comes to a matter of whether the odds justify the shaping of policy based
on that theoretical danger."
     "I'd like to ask the Major about something that *isn't*
theoretical," Pelias cut in coldly, "Specifically the dangers of having a
Fleet of 220 ships move into an active combat zone in the Colonies, and
what logistics would be involved in settling them on planets that despite
the gallant efforts of the Resistance, are still in total Cylon control."
     Thank you, Sire Pelias, Croft thought with gratitude.  "That indeed
poses the greatest danger, Sire Pelias.  Based on all we've learned from
Professor Ila regarding Resistance activities and what they've been able
to accomplish, it is our belief that unless one Colony is successfully
liberated by the time of Fleet arrival, then safe landing and dispersal
of our population would be impossible to achieve successfully.  And
without safe dispersal of our population, then the ability of our capital
ships to effectively take part in the Resistance would be seriously
compromised."
     "In short, the Pegasus, because she is one ship with no
responsibilities for any other ships, has a much greater ability to make
a difference in the Resistance effort than we could ever hope to
achieve," Pelias said with emphasis.  "We would in fact be more of a
hindrance to our brothers, would we not?"
     "It is our belief that yes, our presence would perhaps carry that
risk, based on the current situation."
     "Well it seem to me, Major that we're right back to this matter of
selling our people short," Hanlon interjected with an increasingly
hostile edge, "Only this time, it sounds like the FIU is assuming the
Resistance *can't* move things further along, even when the Pegasus
arrives."
     "We are going by Professor Ila's assessment," Croft said patiently,
"I personally talked with her for a full centar by live video contact,
and she is in complete concurrence with our judgment on the risk factor
involved for us.  And I would further note that Commander Cain is in
total agreement as well.  The two of them do not believe it is in our
best interest to turn back and put our population at risk by placing them
directly in the Resistance struggle.  Especially when at present, it can
not be assumed the Pegasus will even reach the Colonies safely as she
still has the Cannes Garrison to deal with."
      "So now we're selling Commander Cain's ability short?" Hanlon
scoffed.
     "You seem to be selling his judgment short on the matter of his
feelings on whether we should turn back or not," Pelias acidly retorted. 
Which brought another sharp bang from Adama's gavel.
     "The Chair will again remind members that we have not yet opened our
proceedings to discussion amongst ourselves."
     "I think it's time we get to that, Mr. President," Lydia said
coolly, "I'm sure Major Croft has had quite enough of our questions.  We
can all state for the record that we appreciate his work and accept his
factual assessments of what lies behind us, completely.  What remains is
how we as a body and a people, choose to respond to that.  The FIU,
impressive as it is in its ability to synthesize data and analyze it, is
not the final arbiter of our Fate."
     "Hear, hear," Xaviar said quietly, his eyes still down as he made a
final scribble on his notepad with the stylus.

     Adama had been dreading the moment when things would move to the
realm of open free-for-all between Council members.  But hearing no
objection from any one, not even from Tinia or Pelias, he realized it was
fruitless to delay the inevitable.  But he knew he had one final surprise
in store for his side of the issue he could at last spring on his
opponents.
     "Thank you, Major Croft for your outstanding work.  Now that you
have presented your findings, you are hereby released from any
obligations of secrecy and are free to discuss the particulars of your
report in any open setting......including that of the IFB."
     There was a slight intake of breath from Sire Hanlon and he seemed
on the verge of sputtering an objection.  But one glance over at Xaviar
seemed to hold him at bay.  The leader of the "Turn Back" faction was
smiling with a sense of respect for what Adama had just done.  The young
Councillor had been doing more than his share of talking on the IFB for
the last few sectans making his feelings known on the subject.  It would
have been foolish for him to object to letting Croft or any advocate for
Adama's side to have the same privilege.
     "Thank you, Commander," Croft said with gratitude.  He then turned
to face the members of the Council and offered only the faintest bow of
the head in respect.  A respect rooted entirely in his feelings for the
institution and not for any of the members. 
     Once the Major was gone, Adama decided it was time to take some
initiative.
     "We have all heard the FIU's report of the situation," he said.  "I
will say only for myself that I see nothing in it to justify any decision
to have the Fleet deviate from its objective of the last three yahrens,
which is to reach Earth and to settle our population there."
     "Despite the fact the journey to Earth is surely not free from the
same dangers that you say makes returning to the Colonies impossible?"
Xaviar immediately jumped in, determined to be the one in charge of
speaking for the opposing viewpoint.
     Adama looked him in the eye, "What we face in front of us, Sire
Xaviar, is considerably less time than a journey back to the Colonies
would entail, and very little indication that hostile forces on par with
the Risik and Ziklagi lie in our path."
     "How can you define the timetable with such certainty?" Xaviar
scoffed, "Yes, we know Earth lies in front of us.  But is it *really* so
close?"
     "Our preliminary study of Risik astronomical data, and seeking
correlations with what our Earth brothers know of basic astronomy from
their vantage point confirms our journey can no longer be measured in
generations, Sire Xaviar," Adama kept his tone reasonable.  "We should
all take comfort from the fact that the worst fear we started out with
concerning our journey to Earth, is no longer valid."
     "Correction," Siress Lydia interjected, "Our worst fear was that
Earth might not exist."
     Adama tried not to glare at the Council Vice President.  Ever since
he'd discovered the truth he could not reveal publicly about her role in
the Charka affair, he knew that Lydia, like Sire Uri before, had crossed
the line into the totally Irredeemable.  There was nothing Lydia could
ever do to regain any level of trust as a productive member of Colonial
society barring a miracle on the order of Baltar's redemption.  But
without direct proof to justify her removal and arrest, he was still
stuck with her presence on the Council in the position of Vice President. 
Knowing that she would play things pragmatically when there was no point
in opposing him.  But this subject, Adama knew, was different.  While
Xaviar had become the unofficial leader of the "Turn Back" movement, it
was obvious Lydia had embraced it as a way of restoring her stalled drive
for power.
     And that's why I can't dare antagonize Xaviar.  I can't let Xaviar
embrace Lydia as his biggest ally or else the movement will become more
dangerous over time.
     "You are correct, Madame Vice President," Adama uncharacteristically
showed her some deference by using her formal title.  "But we put that
fear behind us much earlier in our journey.  It then became a matter of
wondering how much time we were dealing with, and now, the evidence is
clear that the end to our journey is something we can start to
comprehend."
     "But what difference should it make whether we are near or far to
Earth?" Xaviar's tone grew more pointed, "After nearly a sectar since the
miracle of the Pegasus and the Resistance was revealed to us, it seems
increasingly clear that our future lies in the restoration of our
civilization and our culture in our *homes.*"
     "The FIU report----,"
     "As our esteemed Vice President has already said, the FIU is not the
master of our Fate," the young Councillor coolly interrupted, "Their job
has been to inform us completely on what lies behind us in the journey
home, and they have done so.  As far as I'm concerned, we as a people,
motivated by the goal of reclaiming our civilization and helping our
loved ones we thought dead, can more than rise to the challenge of
surviving the journey back."
     "Even though Commander Cain and Professor Ila are both opposed to
the idea?" this came from Sire Chan, normally reserved and quiet by
nature, saving himself for only the most pointed of questions and
remarks.
     Xaviar showed not the slightest sign of intimidation, "It seems to
me Sire Chan, that if Commander Cain and Professor Ila wish to discourage
us from joining their effort, then they owe us the courtesy of something
more direct than what we've seen up to this point."
     "I'm assuming that's not meant to question the accuracy of what they
said to Major Croft," Tinia interjected.
     "Hardly," Xaviar smiled, "I'm only saying that if their opinion is
to carry greater weight in what our final decision is to be, then the
people should hear that directly from them, and not in the form of
summarized comments in a report that few people are going to find time to
read."
     "Are you prepared to ask them to speak directly to the people, Mr.
President?" Lydia challenged Adama.
     Adama had to keep all of his emotions in check.  He knew that Ila
had volunteered to record a direct message to the people of the Fleet and
explain why it was not in their best interest to come back.  But he had
refused to let her do so.  For reasons that were both professional and
personal.  And he didn't want to place the responsibility on Cain's
shoulders either.
     "Mr. President?" Lydia prodded as the silence lasted for more than
ten microns.
     The Galactica Commander drew himself forward with bold
determination, "At this time, I think no such speech is necessary on
their part.  They were asked to render their advice to the FIU team, and
they know we are free to follow or disregard it.  I believe it must be
followed, but it is not the overriding reason why our journey must
continue."
     "And what *is* the overriding reason, Mr. President?" for the first
time an edge of hostility entered Xaviar's voice.  "I sincerely hope
you're not going to say that it's our obligation to the Earth natives."
     "And you're saying we *don't* have any obligation to them?" Pelias
angrily cut in.
     "Oh we have obligations to them, Sire Pelias, yes," Xaviar glared at
him.  "But not to let their presence influence the final decision of
where we go.  *That* would be carrying the deference we've given them to
an extreme beyond all rationality."
     "Are we going to have *this* discussion again?" Siress Tinia said
with disgust.  "How many centars did we go at each other over the issue
of Earth natives wearing Colonial uniforms before we finally came to an
agreement we could all live with?"
     "Over an issue that never should have come up!" Pelias added
pointedly.
     "Yes, we understand why you'd want to avoid the subject, Pelias,
given the deference you've shown toward one Earth native in particular!"
Sire Hanlon shouted.  Which brought an immediate rap from Adama's gavel
once again.
     "The Chair will make leeway for spirited discussion over an issue of
great importance to us," the cold displeasure was evident in his tone,
"But there will be *no* leeway granted for personal attacks or the
dredging up of personal matters that have no relevance to the larger
issue.  Is that *understood*?"
     There was only silence from the other members.  Xaviar was glaring
with disgust at his ally, Hanlon, as if to tell him that he wasn't
helping their cause and that he should keep his mouth shut.  His fellow
Councillor slunk back in his chair as if to indicate that he'd understood
the message.
     "Mr. President," Siress Eudoxia, one of the members who was
considered to be 'leaning' in Xaviar's direction spoke for the first
time.  "Speaking for myself, I hold no illusions as to the challenges
we'd face if we were to turn back, and I respect the fact that Commander
Cain and Professor Ila believe it would be in our best interests not to
join their cause.  And yet.....I can't escape the belief that if we
*were* to turn back and aid our brothers in the Resistance, we could very
well provide the difference that would enable the Resistance to prevail. 
With 70,000 people and two capital ships......how could that *not* make a
difference?"
     "It's a fair question," Tinia said with a level of courtesy and
gentility that she'd avoided with Xaviar.  "But I think the flaw in it,
Siress Eudoxia, is that it makes the assumption that our entire
population is a combat force, when it is anything but."
     "The make-up of the Resistance is hardly a professional fighting
force either, Siress," Xaviar spoke up again with the familiar edge of
disdain, "If they've been able to accomplish so much with limited
resources, then think of what *our* people, given the chance to reclaim
their homes again after being away for so long, could do."
     "It's not a perfect parallel, Sire Xaviar," Tinia held her ground,
knowing that she had to treat his arguments with debater's respect, "The
people who found themselves trapped in the Colonies have been conditioned
to fight for three yahrens now.  The overwhelming majority of our people
haven't.  What they seek is sanctuary and shelter and I doubt many of
them would have much enthusiasm to be thrust into a war zone where they
would either have to fight, or, as Major Croft's report indicated, be
herded into safe haven until the fighting died down."
     "So what you're saying is that our people lack the will to fight for
their homes, is that it, Siress?" Xaviar retorted.
     "If you think this desire to go back and fight is as strong as you
suggest, then why don't you just introduce a resolution calling for a
referendum now, Sire Xaviar?" Pelias jumped back in.  "Let the people
decide this matter *now* without further delay."
     "I believe the people need more time to consider the magnitude of
what faces us before we go to that stage, Sire Pelias," Xaviar said. 
"Collectively we need to ask ourselves if we really, truly in our heart
of hearts *want* to see the final separation of ourselves from Colonial
Civilization for all time.  Especially when the Lords have granted us the
miracle of *hope* that did not exist when we were forced to flee.  I
regard it as a disgrace to our very honor as a people that we would turn
our backs on our brothers and *not* give them help and assistance for a
cause that three yahrens ago, *all* of us would have gladly taken up arms
for."
     He then turned to face Adama directly, "Does the need for us to
continue to Earth *really* rest upon avoiding the so-called "risks" of
turning back that we've spent this whole session listening to, Mr.
President?" his words were quieter, and yet more forceful.  "Why should
we assume that the risks ahead of us are any less great than what lies
behind us?"
     Before Adama could answer, Siress Eudoxia spoke up again, "I agree
with Sire Xaviar.  What guarantee do we have that Earth isn't going to be
an environment as hostile as the Colonies are at present?  We've all
heard the reports how the nation-states of Earth like to fight each other
in the same way it was true of the planet Terra.  We also know the Risik
haven't given up their dreams of conquering Earth again.  The FIU is also
explicit on the nature of other alien races that have visited Earth in
the past and represent potential threats.  If our final decision is
predicated on the notion that Earth is automatically 'safer' for our
people, I'm not sure I can agree with that."
     "Then why abandon Earth if they face conflict?" Tinia re-entered the
discussion.  "If you really believe Earth is at risk because of what the
Risik might do in the future, then how could *any* of us justify
abandoning her for our own selfish pursuits?"
     "Selfish?" Xaviar angrily interjected.  "Why is it 'selfish' to
think first of *our* homes and *our* civilization, Tinia?  That is *our*
people back there struggling to free themselves against odds that once
seemed impossible to fathom.  Why *shouldn't* our first obligation be to
*our* people?"
     "All right, let's assume we *did* turn back," Tinia realized that
she'd likely blundered by using the word 'selfish' but she wasn't about
to yield at this point.  "Are you saying the Earth population has to come
along for the journey?  Are you going to force them to go back through
regions of space where the race that abducted most of them still has a
price on their heads for wanting them all recaptured?"
     "I'm not proposing we force anyone to do anything against their
will," Xaviar said.  "That goes for the Earth population *and*
ourselves."
     "Then if I understand you correctly, Sire Xaviar, you're saying that
if we go back, you'd let the Earth population proceed to Earth on their
own and totally defenseless."  Pelias's displeasure was increasing.
     "Defenseless?" Xaviar scoffed.  "I'd hardly consider them
defenseless.  They've had plenty of opportunities to show they're capable
of taking care of themselves.  Hades, we've practically let them become
an autonomous force!"
     "They are a population of just over *sixty*!" Pelias exploded.  "And
only a third of that is military.  What makes you think a community that
small could make it to Earth by themselves without our protection?  That
isn't even enough to adequately man the Constellation and Adelaide!"
     "I am certainly not averse to ensuring they are adequately provided
for in order to sustain themselves the rest of the way."
     "Meaning you'd permit people in our ranks to go along with them,
even as the rest of us turned back?" Tinia interjected.
     "I would not stand in the way of able volunteers who wanted to do so
because they could help make a difference in their ability to reach
Earth, and because of any personal ties they've developed with the Earth
people," Xaviar said.  "But I would not be in favor of a mass Exodus in
our ranks if the primary consensus of our people comes round to the need
to turn back!  We must remain of one voice on that!"
     "That sounds like wishful thinking to me," Sire Chan said softly. 
"Under that argument, some people in our ranks would be forced to do
something they'd prefer not to do.  If we were to make the decision to
turn back but others in our population wanted to go on, it would not be
right to stand in the way, regardless of what the numbers were.  Placing
a cap based on the number needed to man the Constellation and the
Adelaide strikes me as absurd."
     "In other words, Sire Chan, more deference for the Earthers on top
of all the other favors we've given them since their arrival?" Xaviar
retorted.
     "Now we're back to this again!" Pelias felt like throwing up his
hands.  "How many centars did we spend on the issue of uniforms not too
long ago?  And when all was said and done, Commander Byrne was more than
accommodating on the issue of having Earth military personnel wear
Colonial uniforms whenever they are off the Constellation and Adelaide. 
This 'deference' you're talking about simply doesn't exist!"
     "Doesn't it?  Then what would you call those Risik show trials we
conducted not too long ago?"
     There was a sharp intake of breath from several members of the
Council who hadn't expected to hear this issue brought up.  Adama, who
had been content to lean back and let the arguments proceed without his
direct intervention, decided the time had come to end his silence.
     "Just a centon," the Commander was struggling to keep an even keel,
"Are you suggesting the Risik Tribunals were somehow improper, Sire
Xaviar?  I heard no objections from you or anyone else on this body then. 
You gave your approval, as did the rest of us."
     "I've had a lot of time to wonder if that was prudent, Mr.
President," Xaviar leaned back in his chair.  "And let me add, I am *not*
saying  the Risik defendants didn't get what they deserved from the
standpoint of divinely ordered justice."
     "Then what *are* you saying, Sire Xaviar?" Adama's voice rose.
     Xaviar looked the Commander in the eye, "Did we really have the
*right* to subject the Risik or *any* citizen of an alien race to
Tribunal under *our* laws for crimes that were *not* committed against
our own people?"
     The Councillor's words hung in the air for several microns before
anyone responded.
     "The Earthers enjoy the benefits of full Colonial citizenship now,
Sire Xaviar," this from Sire Chan.
     "Now they do," Lydia spoke up again in a quiet tone that offered a
total counterpoint to the more pent-up tone that was coming from Xaviar,
"But only as a result of a Council vote conferring citizenship upon them
*after* the events took place.  So wouldn't justifying the Tribunals as a
mater of upholding Colonial law be a violation of something you once
lectured this body about not too long ago in the past, Mr. President?"
     Adama frowned, not knowing where the Vice-President was going.  But
before he could ask her what she was referring to, she then said two
simple words.
     "Retroactive adjudication."
     Adama seemed caught off-guard slightly as he then realized that both
Xaviar and Lydia had scored a major point.
     "Yes, Mr. President," Xaviar nodded, "Our esteemed Vice-President
gets to the heart of why those Tribunals violated  the standard you
invoked to justify not taking action to prevent Baltar's release from the
Prison Barge after the lone baseship was destroyed."
     "It's strange your memory escaped both you and our 'esteemed'
Vice-President on this point at the time, Xaviar," Pelias observed with
barely-concealed sarcasm.  "Not even Sire Solon, whom we might have
expected to bring this matter up, did so."
     "That's precisely my point!" Xaviar snapped, "We weren't looking at
the situation the way we *should* have looked at it.  Instead, we let
ourselves be blinded by anger and outrage over what the Risik did to the
Earth prisoners.  In the process, it made *all* of us forget the statutes
we've lived under, and as a result we granted them deference beyond all
reasonable proportion." 
     "I don't see the need to revisit this," Pelias didn't let up as his
voice rose to accusatory levels.  "Unless you're suggesting we send an
apology message to the Risik Supreme Leader."
     "Stop twisting my words, Pelias!" Xaviar exploded.  "Don't confuse
my regard for our traditions with some non-existent defense of the
Risik."
     Adama brought his gavel down with the loudest rap he'd ever summoned
in all the yahrens he'd presided over these sessions.  It caused every
head to whip toward him as they waited for him to speak.
     "Spirited discussion is one thing, but the two of you are more than
violating the spirit and the letter of that meaning."
     An uneasy silence lingered in the room for almost a half centon
before Xaviar finally spoke in a calmer tone.
     "May I proceed, Mr. President?"
     "Go ahead," Adama wished the Councillor wouldn't, but things had
gotten too far out of hand at this point to let him be seen as denying
Xaviar his say.  That would only make a bad situation worse.
     "Mr. President, my fellow members," he seemed to choose his words
more carefully.  "The reason I cite the Risik Tribunals is *not* to
whitewash the atrocities they committed.  It is to only note that the
solution we arrived at exceeded anything we ever permitted for ourselves. 
When Baltar was captured and sentenced did we place him in a public
Tribunal, broadcast to the entire Fleet and go through an endless litany
of repetitive testimony about *his* crimes?  No, we did not."
     He looked around the table, looking at each member as he continued
to speak.  "Now I am the first to acknowledge that I raised no objections
to any of this at the time.  But in light of what we now know regarding
the Pegasus and the situation that exists back in the Colonies, I have
been forced to look at our handling of the Earth situation in an entirely
new light.  I now realize that questions about the propriety of the
Tribunals *should* have been raised at the time.  Perhaps I was simply
too moved by the accounts of how those like Sergeant Wagner suffered at
their hands to bother myself on those points.  Perhaps had these
objections been raised, they would have seemed insensitive.  But we
should not have let that factor into our thinking.  We should have raised
our voices then to point out that in light of how we had to compromise
our own lust for perfect Justice and retribution when it came to Baltar,
and in light of how we had to accept the reality of the Detente with
centurions who easily may have committed acts that could be classified as
War Crimes on the night of the Destruction......what right did we have to
satisfy the Earther need for revenge with such.....public spectacle?"
     "Sire Xaviar," Adama cut in gently before Pelias or Tinia could
issue their own response, "Just in the interests of making sure the
record is clear, the centurions of Baltar's baseship were not part of the
Cylon assault on the Colonies.  That ship was on detached service at
Borallus at the time."
     Xaviar nodded, "I concede that point, Mr. President, but the fact
remains, those centurions *could* and *would* have carried out their
orders to destroy the Colonies if they'd been there.  There were no signs
of this strain of independence and enlightenment in the Cylon ranks at
the time.  If I concede your point, you must concede mine."
     Adama leaned back and gave a polite affirmative nod without saying
anything else.
     Tinia spoke up next, her tone more calm and polite this time.  "Your
overall argument would only have merit, Sire Xaviar, if the Risik were
suddenly in a frame of mind to sue for peace and announce they were
abandoning their barbaric ways."
     "And what do you think *should* have been the proper solution to the
problem of the defendants we placed on Tribunal?"  Pelias added.  Unlike
Adama and Tinia it was clear he was struggling to keep his voice calm.
      "They should have received the same punishment we gave them, but
*not* from a public spectacle rooted in the abuse of our statutes to
satisfy the blood-lust of the Earthers," Xaviar said 
     "My dear Xaviar," Sire Chan interjected, "You're not doing your
argument any favors with characterizations like 'blood lust'."
     Xaviar looked him in the eye, "I don't retract my remark, Sire Chan. 
I recently reviewed the tapes of the Risik interrogations that Sergeant
Wagner and Petty Officer Clemens participated in, and I have to say, I'm
now appalled we allowed that to happen.  If it had been one of *our*
warriors who'd been harshly treated by a captured prisoner, proper
procedure wouldn't have allowed putting them in charge of *any*
interrogation to gain information.  Can you cite *one* example in our
history before that, where we permitted an interrogated prisoner to be
treated in that fashion, no matter how repulsive a figure he was?"
     Sire Chan leaned back in his chair since he knew there was no
precedent.  And Adama had to silently admit he'd not given any thought to
the Colonial manual when he'd permitted Sergeant Wagner and Petty Officer
Clemens to have free rein in conducting interrogations.  He knew that if
it had been Apollo, Starbuck or Sheba who'd gone through such a horrific
experience he never would have let them be part of any  interrogation
because they would have reacted just as Wagner and Clemens did with all
the venomous fury they could summon.  Understandable, yes.  Justified,
yes.  But.....professional, in keeping with the standards warriors were
supposed to live by in accordance with their oaths?  Hardly.  But if he
tried to argue that as Earth natives, Lauren Wagner and Jessica Clemens
weren't bound by the fine points of the Colonial manual, he'd only prove
Xaviar's point about deference for the Earthers.
     Still.....on the matter of the Tribunals themself, Adama wasn't
prepared to concede the Councillor's point.
     "I'm curious, Sire Xaviar," he kept his tone respectful, "You say
that Lemeshik and the rest should have received exactly what they got. 
What alternative to a fair Tribunal would have guaranteed the same
result?"  
     Xaviar looked him in the eye, "Adama, you should have dispensed with
all that felgercarb of a drawn-out proceeding and simply invoked your
authority as Fleet Commander to make that decision *on your own* to
banish them to some isolated planet.  That's what you did when you cut
your deal with Baltar to free him from the Prison Barge, and again when
you presented the Detente to us as a done deal born out of the necessity
of the moment.  You should have made that clear to Byrne and the rest of
the Earthers that the final decision lay in *your* duly constituted
authority under Colonial Law as Fleet Commander and nothing else."
     "Oh let's not be naive, Xaviar," Pelias remained unimpressed.  "I
can think of some members at this table who would have objected to the
idea of our President asserting such unilateral authority without
consulting us."
     Lydia, who had been assuming the quieter posture, suddenly leaned
forward with her eyes blazing, "Don't 'think', Pelias.  Why don't you
come out and *say* who would have done that if you're so convinced on
that point?  If you have accusations to make, let's not hide them."
     "I have to agree with our Vice-President," Siress Eudoxia said,
clearly displeased.  "Unspoken accusations against fellow members are
beneath the dignity of a Council member."
     Pelias realized immediately he'd blundered.  A quick glance at Tinia
who was glaring at him, confirmed that.  He then put his arms up in
surrender, "I withdraw my last remark and apologize to my fellow
members."
     "Apology accepted, Sire Pelias," Xaviar decided it was time to be
gracious as he looked back at Adama, "To finish my point, Adama, if you
had made the decision as Fleet Commander to exile Lemeshik and the others
on your own authority, the end result would have been the *same* as far
as punishment for the guilty Risik were concerned and we would have also
stayed true to *our* statutes as *we* have practiced them for
*ourselves*.  Instead, because of our collective blindness on this
matter, we gave the Earthers deference that with hindsight, I think was a
serious mistake.  And I fear that in so doing, we gave them a sense of
entitlement that their needs will always come first, especially on this
matter of where our future lies."
     Adama stared at the Councillor, not saying anything for several
microns.  Some of the members wondered if he'd been left at a loss for
words or if he was methodically planning his response.  When he finally
answered, it was clear it was the latter.
     "Sire Xaviar," he said, "What you call 'entitlement' for those
victims of Risik torture.....torture and imprisonment that even exceeds
what we know of from Cylon methods of torture......I consider one of our
finest centars as a people.  One that gave those people we freed from
Ne'Chak the proof they needed they could trust us, and that we will
always look after their best interests because they are our brothers. 
Earth-born, yes, but still our brothers and sisters who share our common
heritage.  And after what they went through......they needed the
catharsis the Tribunal provided them."
     "What about *our* catharsis, Adama?" Xaviar was totally unfazed.  "I
submit that *our* catharsis is the news that our homes are potentially
ours for the taking again, and that we owe it to *ourselves* to pursue
that, and to not let *anything* stand in the way of it.  Not the dangers
that lie behind us, and not the need to give first priority to the
Earthers."
     "I will repeat the question I put to you earlier, Xaviar," Pelias
tried not to sound as hostile as he had earlier now that he'd already
blundered once, "If you are so convinced this is what the people want,
then let us vote on setting a Referendum date, now."
     Xaviar glanced over at Lydia for a micron.  A gesture that made
Tinia inwardly wince since it seemed to confirm her worst fears at this
point.  Finally, the Councillor shook his head.
     "I have no resolution to offer......at this time." he then paused,
"Do you?"
     "No, but only because I think the people should have time to digest
the impact of the FIU report before we set a date," Pelias said.
     "I agree," Siress Tinia said.  "The FIU report, as we've seen, is
quite extensive, and the people should be given the opportunity to study
it so they can be informed.  At the very minimum, a Referendum resolution
should wait for at least another sectan."  She looked back at Adama, "I
believe, Mr. President, we have exhausted all we can about this subject
for today."
     "Then the Chair declares all further discussion pertaining to the
FIU report to be at an end," Adama felt a wave of relief that the ordeal
was finally ending, "The Council of Twelve stands adjourned."


     After the meeting broke up, the members had gone their separate ways
save for Xaviar and Lydia.  The two had taken the shuttle Canaris back to
the Rising Star and were now enjoying a light lunch in the Empyreal
Lounge.
     "You were quite eloquent this morning, Xaviar," the Siress said
admiringly.
     "I said what needed to be said," the handsome Councillor sighed. 
"It's been bubbling inside me for too long, now.  And once it became
clear the FIU report was just a giant whitewash in favor of Adama's
position, I'd finally had enough."
     "That whole matter of the Risik Tribunal seems to have bothered you
for some time."
     "It has," Xaviar admitted, "That whole row we had just to get the
resolution passed on uniforms made me look back at everything else that's
happened in a different light.  That's why I revisited Sergeant Wagner's
role in the interrogations.  I know she had just cause to react the way
she did, but Adama had no business letting her take part in that.  One of
our own warriors would never have been given that privilege."
     "Agreed," Lydia nodded, "It only gets back to how Adama's developed
a total blind spot on that subject.  That's why it would have been easy
for the people to believe he would have swelled the ranks of the Earth
population by another eight hundred if given the chance."
     The young Councillor's face took on an air of disapproval, "We went
over that before, Lydia.  I will *not* be a party to spreading
disinformation in the name of my cause.  If we're to have any chance of
succeeding, it has to be done with total integrity.  And I meant what I
said.  If rumors start spreading that Adama was trying to convince the
people of Liberty to join us because it would guarantee returning to the
planet of their ancestors, then you'd leave me no choice but to openly
repudiate you."
     "So you've said," Lydia shrugged.  "But if you're not prepared to do
what it takes to win, Xaviar, you're going to find yourself on the losing
end."
     Xaviar looked her in the eye, "So be it.  I'm prepared to lose if I
can't convince the people.  I only want to make certain I've had the
opportunity to make the case to them, which is why so long as I have a
forum on the IFB to reach the people, I'll keep talking."
     "You're running out of time to change people's minds.  Each new
cycle that takes us further from home renders the argument moot even
before any Referendum takes place.  Action needs to be taken.....and
soon."
     "How do we change their minds?" Xaviar eyed her with some suspicion. 
Even though it predated his election to the Council, he was familiar with
the relationship Lydia had enjoyed with Sire Antipas.  
     Lydia smiled in a way that highlighted her cool, elegantly sensual
beauty.
     "I'd be happy to discuss that in a more......private setting."
     Sire Xaviar smiled back but only faintly.  He knew what Lydia's game
was.  And he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of becoming
another version of Antipas.  From the  Councillor's standpoint, the best
way to demonstrate that was to take advantage of Lydia's seduction
attempt......and let her know *later* that he wasn't going to be the
junior partner.

Chapter Three

     Adama had retreated to his quarters in a more subdued frame of mind. 
The tone of the discussion had left him pondering certain intangibles
that he realized he'd neglected for too long, And  now, because of that
neglect, they threatened political stability for the Fleet at a time when
it was most needed.
     It was always easier to have opponents like Uri and Antipas and then
Lydia, he thought.  If you take for granted the fact that your opposition
is unscrupulous, you have serenity and confidence in your own position. 
But when the opposition is nothing like that......it's different. 
     And it made Adama realize that the last thing he could afford was
any situation that could make the cause he believed in look bad, and play
into the hands of Xaviar.  That realization was still on his mind as he
went over several reports that had been forwarded to him concerning
operations on the Constellation and the Adelaide.  As he read them, he
saw two items that made him frown dubiously.  Almost immediately, he
pressed the com-line to the Bridge.
     "Athena, I want you to contact the Constellation and tell Commander
Byrne I want to see him immediately in my quarters."
     "Yes, Father.  You want him to report directly to the Galactica?"
     "That *is* where my quarters are located," the faintest edge of
irritability entered his voice, which he immediately regretted,
especially to his daughter.  "I'm.....sorry, Athena.  Yes, he's to see me
in person.  Tell him this can't be on a com-line hook-up."
     "Of course, Father," his daughter was used to those occasional
outbursts.  The only thing that concerned her was that this was the first
time she'd heard one in the time since Ila's stunning return from the
dead.  That told her that this was something bothering him a good deal.
     Several centons went by before Athena contacted him again.  
     "Father, Captain Dante says Commander Byrne is conducting an
inspection below-decks of the Constellation and won't be available for
several centars."
     The Commander tried to hide the irritability this time, although it
was even greater inside.  "Athena, you tell Captain Dante that I'm giving
Commander Byrne a direct order to drop whatever he's doing and report to
me immediately!  And that if he isn't on a shuttle for the Galactica in
the next fifteen centons, I'll have him suspended from command for a
sectan."
     "Yes, sir," Athena wondered what it could be as she signed off to
relay the order.


     As Lydia had hoped, Sire Xaviar had been receptive to the idea of
going to her quarters and letting himself be seduced by her.  After they
had enjoyed their first session of intimacy, the Council Vice-President
decided that it was time to make her next move.
     "Did you enjoy yourself?" she lazily inquired in a throaty whisper
as he ran her finger over his chest.  
     Xaviar looked down and smiled, but it almost seemed more like a
smirk.  "It was interesting to learn how you acquired your reputation."
     Lydia faintly shrugged her shoulders and settled back against the
headboard.  "I don't like to boast about it, but......I'd never deny it."
     "As always, the proud Aerian pagan," he said, "But I think in your
case, Lydia, it isn't rooted in worship of Zandra, the fertility goddess. 
It's rooted more in....a desire to emulate?"
     She looked up and returned his smirk, "What of it?"
     He inched closer so he was looming above her, as though trying to
suggest a posture of intimidation.
     "Just this, Lydia," he said simply.  "I welcome your support on the
Council for what I believe in.  If you can use your charms to help me
convince a majority of the population to vote in favor of turning back on
a referendum, I'll be grateful to you for it.  And I'll even be honored
to spend more time with you this way......but only because that's what
*I* feel like doing."
     The smirk faded slightly from Lydia's expression but she said
nothing.
     "You see, Lydia, I know how it was with you and Antipas.  And I
don't intend to be blackmailed into a submissive posture with you."
     "That could only happen if you have a scandal of your own lurking in
the closet like Antipas did," Lydia didn't miss a beat in answering him,
if only to prove she wasn't intimidated.  "You haven't.....robbed any
museums or killed any of your bodyguards, have you?"
     He chuckled and shook his head, "No, Lydia, I can assure you that on
matters of morality and ethics, the only thing I'm guilty of is violating
the codes on non-marital relations.  Though as an unmarried man, that
doesn't amount to much."
     "Thankfully," the smirk returned to Lydia's expression. 
"You.....won't reconsider about my giving Zara an anonymous story on what
Adama *really* wanted to do with all of the survivors from Liberty?"
     He faintly shook his head, "Not a chance, Lydia."  He started to
lower himself toward her but she abruptly stuck out her hand, pushing it
against his chest.
     "I think you've given me enough satisfaction for today, Xaviar," she
said, "Even a devout worshiper of Zandra like me knows when it's time not
to overindulge."
     The Councillor knew it was best to take the hint.  He slowly nodded
and with no malice but with some considerable coolness said simply, "As
you wish."
     "But I do want there to be a next time," she added, "Are you still
open to that?"
     He looked her in the eye, "I'm open to *anything* from you that
would be pleasurable to me, Lydia."
     He took several centons to dress and then was gone.  Leaving Lydia
to ponder about what she would do....next.
     That was his last chance to see if he was still stubborn about
playing by the Rulebook only.  He still doesn't realize he can't win that
way.  If he wants to succeed, he needs an opportunity to take advantage
of.
     An opportunity that she was going to provide him.....without him
ever knowing.


     "You asked to see me, Commander?"
     Adama looked up at Commander Kevin Byrne, dressed in Colonial battle
dress and not the US Navy uniform replica he'd been wearing on the
Constellation.  In accordance with a recent Council vote, all Earth
military personnel were required to wear Colonial uniforms when
performing duties off their respective ships.  Adama was glad  Byrne had
readily accepted the resolution, and had worn Colonial battle dress
during the recent mission to the planet Liberty that contained a
civilization of people descended from Earth natives abducted by the Risk
centuries before.  Except for a handful who had come back, the people of
that civilization, long free from Risik control, had been left behind in
peace.  Free to chart their own destiny as they saw fit.
       "Yes, I did, Commander," Adama put down his stylus and leaned back
in his chair.  "I was going over a summary report the liaison officer
prepared for me on operations aboard the Constellation and Adelaide."
     "Oh yes," Byrne sat down in the chair in front of Adama's desk.  "I
appreciate the fact he keeps a low profile when he's moving about on the
two ships."
     "His job is to observe and report to me, so I can get an independent
perspective on how you and your people are conducting themselves," Adama
was glad a centar had elapsed since he'd ordered Athena to summon Byrne. 
It had allowed him to calm his irritable feeling and better prepare him
for what he had to do.  "For the most part.....I'm  pleased with how you
and your crew and passengers have conducted themselves."
     Byrne's eyes narrowed, "But there's something you're not pleased
with, sir?"
     "I wouldn't have summoned you from the Constellation to see me
personally, if there wasn't, Commander," Adama kept his tone neutral. 
"There are several things I need to discuss with you that touch on some
very critical matters.  The sooner they're resolved, the better it will
be for all of us."
     The Navy commander faintly nodded his head, though inside he wasn't
sure at all what Adama might be displeased with.
     "The first matter, concerns what the liaison officer noticed
regarding the crew's general attitude about Baltar, which according to
his report is quote, 'a clear reflection of an attitude encouraged by the
command personnel of both the Constellation and the Adelaide', endquote. 
Would you dispute his assessment?"
     Byrne frowned slightly, "Sir.....I'm not sure I understand."
     "Then let me go further in his report," Adama said patiently,
"Quote, 'the crew  frequently, when making reference to Baltar in casual
conversation aboard ship, uses expressions like 'bilge scum', 'slime
bucket' and a number of other expressions that are presumably unique to
the Earth lexicon.'"
     The US Navy Commander could only shrug, "I'm in no position to
dispute his observations, sir.  But I'm afraid I still don't understand
the significance of it."
     "Then understand this, Commander Byrne," Adama said coldly as he
looked him in the eye, "I want all of that stopped.  Immediately."
     Byrne was slightly taken aback, "Sir, I can't control what the crew
says to each other on their own time----,"
     "It's your job to set an example, Commander," his tone grew more
forceful, "The only reason why your people are doing that is because
you've made them think that's how Baltar should be regarded.  So that
means you're going to change your attitude as of now, and you're also
going to make it clear to the crew of the Constellation they have to do
likewise.  And you're going to let Commander Allen know I expect the same
of those he commands."
     An edge of defensiveness entered Byrne's voice, "Sir, I have never
in all the times I have appeared before Baltar in strategy sessions
treated him with anything less than respect."
     "That's true," Adama conceded, "You've never acted disrespectful in
front of him.  But I've noticed your body language and your expression
when talking to him.  It's something I've seen many times in my own crew. 
The resentment.  The underlying contempt.  In the case of my crew, I
understand why its been hard to adjust to him.  But in your case, Baltar
isn't responsible for anything that happened to you or any of the
Earthers we've liberated.  So your feelings-and theirs-are quite
misplaced."
     "Sir," Byrne said with all the calmness he could bring forth, "I
would remind you the majority of the Constellation crew is Colonial. 
It's when my people talk to *them* they get most of their opportunities
to learn about Baltar.  All they're doing is empathizing with them."
     Adama glared at him, "That's not acceptable, Commander Byrne.  As
Captain of the Constellation, that puts you in authority over everyone in
your crew, including non-Earthers, and that means it's supposed to be
*your* job to tamp down on that, whether the source is you or the
Colonials.  If you're telling me you can't bring some discipline to your
ranks on this point just because it's Colonials who are encouraging the
Earthers to feel this way about Baltar, then perhaps I need to look for
someone who *can* bring appropriate discipline!"
     He let his words hang, and it was clear that Byrne was slightly
rattled since this was the first time in the near-yahren since his
arrival in the Fleet  he'd ever heard Adama pull rank on him so
forcefully.
     "I'll do as you say, Commander, but I think asking them to like
Baltar is probably going to be too much for them."
     "This isn't about liking him," the edge of coldness returned to
Adama's voice, "There's almost no one who can make that claim except for
his wife.  It's about respecting the fact that circumstances changed and
accepting them.  I am the one who made the decision to free Baltar from
life imprisonment because I felt it was in the best interests of the
Fleet to do so.  And I am the one who made the decision to accept his
defection and his final pardon on all past crimes because it was in the
best interests of the Fleet to do so.  And those decision have been
vindicated.  Baltar has operated entirely in an honorable fashion since
then, and has lived up to his end of the bargain."
     "No one has ever criticized your decisions on those matters, sir."
     "That isn't the point.  The longer that negative attitude about
Baltar goes on, the more it has the potential to one day damage our
relations with his crew, and that's something we can't afford to have
happen, ever.  We've come to depend on the baseship for our additional
security and the ability of the Cylon crew to work with us.  Not to
mention the fact the baseship is the key to our ability to communicate
with the Pegasus.  If we're able to keep our Fleet moving forward toward
Earth, then our relations with Baltar and his crew must remain absolutely
harmonious." he paused and went on, "When it comes to the Earthers, you
should make it clear that if Baltar *hadn't* defected back to our side
and brought the Baseship with him, then the Galactica would have met its
end before we ever located you and your daughter, and long before we knew
who the Risik were.  In short, you should be making the case that Baltar
is the reason why none of them are still suffering in a Risik prison
camp."
     The Naval Officer seemed chastened slightly.  At heart, his sense of
pride didn't want to admit his instincts had been wrong.  But his head
was telling him that Adama was correct on this matter.
     "Very well," he said, "I'll make an announcement to that effect."
     The Fleet Commander nodded, "Good.  Now let's move on to the other
matter in the liaison officer's report that concerns me.  Apparently,
Baltar isn't the only person the crew of your ship enjoys saying less
than complimentary things about.  Now I'm not saying that in the case of
this person the people don't have a right to their opinions, but the
liaison officer felt he had no choice but to report it when he noticed
some......illustrations of rather questionable taste inside multiple
turbo-flush facilities."
     Byrne felt himself tense since this time, he already knew who Adama
was referring to.  He'd seen one of the "illustrations" in question and
instead of cracking down on who'd been responsible for them, he'd laughed 
and ignored it beyond having maintenance clean it up.  He decided it best
to pre-empt the matter.
     "Sir, if you're referring to Siress Lydia.....then I accept full
responsibility for that."
     Adama allowed himself a grim smile of satisfaction. "I'm glad you
do, Commander Byrne.  I'm well aware of the personal history between you
two, and that it ended on an unpleasant note..  But the fact remains, she
is the duly-elected Vice President of the Council, and is entitled to
nothing less than total courtesy on your part and that of your crew.  The
crude illustrations in the turbo-flush by themself wouldn't be serious,
but the liaison officer also reports that you encouraged the Risik
defectors to avoid meeting with Lydia after they came among us."
     "Commander, not that I'm excusing my actions, but the reason why I
encouraged negative feelings about her was because of what she did
regarding the leak to the IFB about Sergeant Clemens.  I take
responsibility for the fact that I openly encouraged the survivors from
Ne'Chak not to trust her and dislike her, as well as the Risik defectors,
but it wasn't because of anything connected to the relationship I once
had with her."
     "I'm glad you're not excusing your actions, though your explanation
is duly noted," Adama said.  "Off the record, my sentiments regarding
Siress Lydia are the same as yours.  But Siress Lydia is more than just
the Vice President of the Council, she's in a position to influence the
course of our future given her alliance with Sire Xaviar on this 'Turn
Back' issue.  The best way to tamp down on *that* sentiment is to avoid
giving her legitimate cause to work against your interests.  Siress
Lydia, for all her negative qualities, is still a charming woman with the
ability to influence a good many people in the population to join the
Turn Back movement and ultimately put you and your people in a most
precarious position if it were to come to that."
     Byrne was silent for nearly a half centon before he responded.
     "Commander......if it did come to that, what would become of us?" he
then added, "Would we be forced to go back with you?"
     "I doubt that," Adama shook his head, "I think it more likely the
preferred option would be to let the Constellation and Adelaide proceed
to Earth on their own.  Which would mean as senior Earth officer......the
responsibility for leading them home, would be yours."
     The American naval officer visibly flinched and Adama could tell
this was the last thing Byrne wanted to hear.  But he knew the sooner
Byrne faced it as a realistic prospect, the better it would be for both
him and the Earth natives.
     "Thank you for your candor, Commander," he finally said.  "I'll do
all I can.  But you must understand, I can't monitor the private thoughts
and conversations of all members of my crew.  Just as I know you can't
either."
     "Yes, that's true," Adama conceded.  "But we can at least set the
best example possible, and in the process......this tactical retreat
could pay the greater dividend of a strategic victory."
     Byrne nodded, "By your leave?"
     "Dismissed."
     The naval officer gave him a perfect salute and departed.


     Left alone following Xaviar's departure, Lydia had dressed  and
turned all her thoughts to work matters.  Logging in to her own personal
comp unit and using her password as Council Vice-President to gain access
to files that were for the most part inaccessible to the general public. 
In this case, the file she wanted was a full accounting of all members of
the Earth population who'd been rescued and liberated from the Risik
prison at Ne'Chak.
     For the rest of the cycle, Lydia remained seated at her comp
terminal.  Pausing only to place an order to the Elite Class Service
Division to request an evening meal be left outside her quarters.  Even
when it arrived, she found herself mostly picking at it, because her mind
was entirely focused on learning every last detail about some of the more
prominent names.....as well as some of the less prominent ones.
     Finally, with the chronometer approaching the transition point to
the next cycle, she picked up her telecom and dialed the number to a room
in the Crew section of the Rising Star.
     "Jarvik, dear," her voice was at full seductive purr, "I need to
*see* you immediately."
     There was indecipherable mumble on the other end.
     "Jarvik?" she repeated with an edge of faint irritation.
     "I'm.....sorry, Siress," her pilot muttered.  "I....was asleep."
     "Well get yourself dressed and over here immediately," she struggled
to put the seductive edge back in her voice.  "You're needed."
     "I'm.....on my way, Siress."
     When Lydia put down the telecom she felt annoyed that Jarvik hadn't
reacted with the usual sound of obedient deference that she'd been used
to hearing in his voice for the last eleven yahrens.  Then again, she
realized that she hadn't been hearing that tone in his voice for the
better part of a sectar now.
     Gods forbid that I might have to give him more than I've ever really
wanted to just to get him back in line!  she thought as she organized her
files and waited for him to arrive.  When he finally did, some five
centons later, he was neatly dressed but he looked as if he'd been
sleeping rather poorly.  His expression seemed haggard.  Lydia had always
considered him to be handsome man who could more than adequately suit her
needs in her bed chambers when she was between lovers, but this time he
looked.....repelling to her.
     No matter.  I need him and he knows what he has to do.
     "Thank you for coming, Jarvik," she said with all the sweetness she
could manage.  "I appreciate your service as always."
     He bowed respectfully but said nothing.
     "Now here's what I need you to do," she removed a small drive from
her comp and handed it to him.  "Go over this file and make sure you have
a copy on your own comp for later consultation.  And then I want you to
start making the rounds aboard the Constellation and Adelaide and get a
sense of which people in these files tend to be loners or impulsive
types.  Ones that wouldn't take kindly to the idea of being told that
perhaps reaching Earth isn't in our future after all.  And pay close
attention to whether any of them are saying nasty things about Sire
Xaviar.  I don't care if they're saying nasty things about me because I
know dear little Kevin has poisoned their minds to hate me.  I'm more
interested in those who have chips on their shoulder about Xaviar and the
Turn Back movement."
     Jarvik pocketed the computer drive and then gave his eyes a good
rub.  It seemed to sober him a bit more.  "And then?"
     "You bring the information to me and give me a full report," she
said simply.  "I'm counting on you, Jarvik.  Just like I've counted on
you for so much these last eleven yahrens."
     "I'm always in your service, Siress," he bowed respectfully again. 
"I'll....start on all this in the morning."
     "Thank you," the seductive smile and tone returned to the Aerian
Siress.  "And maybe some future night......" her words purposefully
trailed off.
     A weak smile formed on his mouth as he nodded and departed.  Once he
was gone, the smile immediately faded from Lydia.  It was the first time
in all the yahrens Jarvik had served her that she'd offered him an
incentive that was totally insincere on her part.
     I'm going to have to keep a closer eye on him, she thought as she
then consulted another file and realized it was time to make another
telecom.  To someone who had owed her a favor for quite some time, and
was now going to be told to stand by to pay her back.
     
     Once he was out in the hallway, Jarvik found himself stopping and
resting against the bulkhead.  His head tilted back and his eyes closed
but there was no mistaking the anguish in his expression.
     Lords of Kobol have mercy on me.  What am I being asked to do *now*?
     As he slowly exhaled and resumed his walk to his quarters, the words
of his father from eleven yahrens ago kept filling his head all the way
back.

Chapter Four

     Adama had spent breakfast with Apollo and Sheba, which gave him a
chance to see his new granddaughter, Bethany, and give her a big kiss. 
But during the conversation, his son and daughter-in-law noticed a
strange disconnect in him.
     "Father?" Apollo finally felt compelled to wave his hand in front of
his voice.
     He finally seemed jolted back to reality.  "Oh.  I'm......sorry,
Apollo."
     "Something really has to be bothering you," Sheba said.
     "No, it's.....okay," he waved his hand reassuringly.
     "I think she's right," his son said.  "Did you hear what she was
just saying a micron ago?"
     Adama tried to get his bearings, "Something about.....your father
and....." he shook his head with embarrassment.  "I'm sorry, Sheba. 
Really, sorry.  Tell me again."
     "I was mentioning that my father's begun a relationship with Bridge
Officer Kylie."
     "Oh, yes," his interest finally perked up, "Ila's mentioned her
name.  Kylie's become one of her closest friends among the crew.  It
wouldn't surprise me if your mother-in-law had a hand in playing
matchmaker."
     "I'm sure she did.  You may get some details on that in her next
message to you."
     He managed a smile, "I hope that won't be too long."
     "Father," Apollo delicately changed the subject, "What's bothering
you?  Can you tell us what it is?"
     Adama sighed, "It's.....not a classified matter.  It's this whole
'Turn Back' debate.  It's getting more serious, and even if it fails, it
may leave us with scars that will never heal."
     "You mean if the 'Turn Back' faction loses, the people who feel that
way might revolt?" Sheba asked.
     "That's one possibility.  Especially if there's a misplaced sense
among them that the only thing standing in the way of going home is the
presence of the Earth natives.  They might find themselves the target of
harassment or.....Kobol knows what else.  It's not a pleasant picture."
     "Won't the FIU report help defuse things?" Apollo asked.
     "The FIU report is thorough, but.....the average civilian cramped on
a freighter he or she got thrust into during the Exodus is not the kind
of person who can grasp the nuances of a military intelligence report. 
Especially if they have a message from the Pegasus about a loved one they
left behind still being alive."
     "Adama," Sheba asked gently, "Maybe....my father or......Ila could
just make a direct speech to the people of the Fleet explaining the
risks.  They've said they're willing to do that."
     "I know," her father-in-law admitted, "But......I'd prefer not to
play that card for now."
     "Why not?" Apollo frowned.  "If they can help, and if they're
willing to, why not let them?"
     Adama looked his son in the eye, "Because first, it's too soon since
we know we're still dealing with a minority sentiment that hasn't gotten
out of hand.  And second......I don't want to put them under any undue
burden of worrying about our situation when they have enough problems to
deal with, starting with Cannes Garrison.  If the situation gets worse on
our end......then I'll be more open to it.  But not now."
     His tone indicated he didn't want to discuss the matter further. 
Both Apollo and Sheba knew they had to respect that.  
     "It won't be easy for any of us," Adama mused aloud, "Even for those
of us who have always believed that Earth represents our final Destiny."
     Sheba decided to ask a question she'd been thinking about ever since
her message from Cain.  A question that she knew she had to phrase
carefully.  "Adama, what would you be thinking if we didn't have any
Earth people in our population?  What if.....we'd learned about the
Resistance before we ever entered the Zykonian frontier and found Byrne
and Jena?"
     He leaned back and sighed, "I honestly don't know the answer to
that, Sheba.  And....I guess I don't really want to ponder that question. 
The Lords had their reasons for not letting us find out until we'd
reached this stage of our journey, and.....if I accept it was Their will,
then there's little to be gained from asking what we'd have done if we'd
known sooner."
     Adama then lowered his head as if he were trying to hide his face. 
Right away, both Apollo and Sheba knew why this was a question he didn't
want to address openly.  Because they both knew if Adama had known much
earlier in the journey that his wife was alive and part of a Resistance
movement, the temptation to go back would have been impossible for him to
resist.  Regardless of what the risk factor was.
     Maybe that's why we weren't supposed to find out until now.  Apollo
thought.  So he wouldn't be tempted because other factors were in play. 
The dangers of what lies behind us with the Risik and the
Ziklagi......and our sense of honor and duty to the Earth people.
     Hades, Apollo added to himself as he thought of his mother and how
much he still missed her, *I'd* have been tempted too.  And so would
Athena.  We'd have pushed him to go back if it had been earlier in the
journey.
     Finally, the Commander raised his head and was looking at them with
the firmness and resolution they expected of him.
     "We have to deal only with things as they are, and now how they
might have been," he resumed.  "And things as they are, require us to
stay the course.  But in doing that.....we can not openly disrespect the
feelings of those who want to go back.  That's why I have to play things
cautiously even with the likes of Siress Lydia.  And I also have to make
sure we don't do anything that smacks of giving some kind of special
deference to the Earth people at the expense of Colonial regulations and
Colonial law that applies to the rest of us.  Sire Xaviar now thinks it
was a mistake for us to have had those Risik Tribunals because they
didn't represent true fidelity to Colonial jurisprudence."
     "What?" Apollo was taken aback.  "How can he make that argument all
of a sudden?  No one made any objections back then.  Certainly not him."
     "Precisely, Apollo.  That only shows how much the dynamic of the
Pegasus and the Resistance is making people look at things we've done
before in a completely different light.  Now all of a sudden Xaviar looks
back and sees how we *didn't* subject Baltar to the same thing, and he
might also have brought up how it was never my intention to have
Commandant Leiter permanently detained or put before Tribunal for the
Eastern Alliance massacre at Paradeen.  Those are flawed examples that in
the most clinical interpretation of the legal statutes do *not* represent
the same thing as what we saw with the Risik defendants.  But you can see
how easy it becomes for someone who believes in the *political* argument
about Turning Back to suddenly see a pattern where only in the case of
the Earthers did we go to the level of a formal Tribunal.  And it's the
kind of argument that can easily resonate with the masses who wouldn't
understand a long technical explanation of why Xaviar's perspective on
the Tribunals is wrong." He paused and added, "That's why until the
crisis is over, I'm not going to allow the slightest thing that could be
wrongfully interpreted as special deference to the Earth people.  The
last thing I want is to give Xaviar more potential propaganda points."
     "I understand, Father," Apollo nodded, "And.....if you think it
would help to stress more of a return to traditional
regulations.......I'd even be willing to make a sacrifice myself."
     Adama smiled as he realized what his son was referring to, "Thank
you, Apollo, but.....I'm only putting a halt to *further* modifications
to the manual.  All the changes previously agreed to for the benefit of
the Earth people and.....others, will remain in place."
     "Thank you!" Sheba chimed in, which made them laugh good-naturedly
and served as a way of breaking the tension that had crept in over the
breakfast table.


     "Good morning.  Today, the IFB is pleased to bring you the latest in
our series of 'people in the news.'  Our guest is the esteemed member of
the Council of Twelve, Sire Xaviar.  Thank you for joining us,
Councillor."
     "A pleasure to be here, Zara," Xaviar's tone was polite.  Like so
many in the Fleet, he held an instinctive dislike for Zara and her
co-anchor Zed because of the way they presented the news, but he'd never
found them to be anything less than polite in their dealings with him.
     "I think we should discuss the topic that's on the minds of most
people in the Fleet right now.  The nature of our relationship to the
Pegasus and the question of whether our long-term interests are served by
staying the course for Earth.  Now you've emerged as the leading voice of
what's become known unofficially as the 'Turn Back' faction----,"
     "Well, if I may, Zara," he held up a hand, "I haven't accepted any
appointments.  I haven't spoken at any formal meetings or gatherings. 
The opinions I've expressed as a member of the Council of Twelve are
entirely my own."
     "Granted.  But you are the leading spokesman for this position that
it's fair to say is increasing in numbers throughout the Fleet.  Why do
you suppose that is?"
     "Well, I think that answer's obvious, Zara.  After a sectar, the
level of communications between us and the Pegasus has increased.  So
many have experienced the joy of exchanging messages with friends they
thought were dead, and in the process they've learned something that a
sectar ago seemed unthinkable.  That there are people.  Friends and
possibly loved ones of ours who are courageously fighting in the Colonies
to try and take them back.  The idea that something like that is actually
possible, when we've been conditioned for nearly three yahrens to regard
the Colonies as a distant memory, is naturally a shock to the system that
had to force some kind of reassessment of where we are now, and what
should we do next.  Now I want to stress that I do *not* believe our
decision to take this journey across the stars was a mistake.  The report
of Commander Adama's wife, Professor Ila, is quite clear  the Resistance
did not emerge as a viable force for almost a yahren after the
Destruction.  The Galactica and our Fleet would have been in no position
to do anything back then, and the 70,000 of us in our ranks would surely
have died.  So our decision to flee the Colonies was the correct one. 
The question before us is whether it *remains* the correct one for our
future."
     "You believe then we should turn around and join the Resistance
effort."
     "I think it merits the strongest consideration," the Councillor
stressed.  "Especially now that we've come to realize that Earth is *not*
what we assumed it to be when we began our search.  I think all of us
remember when Commander Adama gathered representatives from all twelve
worlds and made his broadcast regarding our goals following our initial
escape.  Earth was presented to us not as a distant outpost inhabited by
humans, but as a true sister colony world to our own, built upon the
foundations of Kobollian knowledge.  Yet along the way, our rescue of the
Earth natives, beginning with Commander Byrne and Commander Allen, and
continuing with the prisoners from Ne'Chak, have forced us to realize
that Earth is fundamentally no different from the planet Terra or any
other world we've encountered with human inhabitants.  Earth has
forgotten its beginnings.  It has no knowledge of Kobol or the Colonies
or Colonial Civilization.  The principle religious traditions, while
similar in many respects to our own are not the same.  In short, it is
basically an alien civilization.  And we need to ask ourselves if our
final destiny should lie in an alien civilization......or in our homes."
     "Now Sire Xaviar, yesterday we had Major Croft of the Fleet
Intelligence Unit with us.  According to him, his team presented a
thorough report highlighting the dangers turning back would involve. 
Does your opinion mean you think the Major and his team are mistaken in
their assessments?"
     "I want to first say, I have the highest respect for Major Croft and
all members of the Fleet Intelligence Unit.  They were asked to do a
difficult job that required sectans of round the clock work and analysis
and their report provides a through documentation of all the known facts
that are to be had regarding what lies behind us.  Where I differ with
Major Croft and the FIU is their subjective interpretation of how we
react to this information.  Where the FIU sees risks and dangers......I
see opportunities."


     Inside the ward room of the Constellation, a dark-haired man in the
blue fatigues that had been duplicated from the style of the United
States Air Force, wasn't bothering with any of his food.  Instead, he was
staring at the screen and shaking his head in disgust.
     "Arrogant little putz," he muttered.
     "What's that, Reynolds?" the voice of the person next to him said.
     He looked over at Petty Officer Jessica Clemens, USN. 
     "Uh.....nothing, Jess."
     "No way," she shook her head, "You were registering a not so
flattering opinion of the Councillor, weren't you?"
     He let out a grunt, "Yeah, I guess I was.  I can't believe how much
he's changed.  A couple months ago, he was cheering us on against the
Risik and shaking our hands at the Welcome dinner.  Now he treats us like
the plague and wants to keep us from going home."
     "From going to *our* home, Reynolds," another voice across the table
said.  This was Technical Sergeant Lauren Wagner, the Constellation's
Master-At-Arms.  "It's never been their home.  That's the difference."
     Reynolds looked at her and found it amazing that Lauren sounded so
calm and restrained.  She too had changed a good deal in the last month. 
The fiery, angry cauldron of bitterness aimed at her plight at the hands
of the Risik had cooled.  At first, Reynolds, Clemens and those who knew
her attributed it to the fact that Risik space had long since been put
behind them and the threat they posed seemed to be over.  But in time,
they realized something else had been softening her attitude.  A new
romance with Lieutenant Castor, her fellow member of Elite Squadron and
head of the Colonial Security Division.  The two had begun seeing each
other at least twice a sectan when they weren't on-duty.  And it had
given Lauren a new outlook on her life.  One rooted less in bitterness
and more in optimism.
     "Ma'mm, aren't you worried that guy might see to it we never get
home?" out of instinctive deference to the fact that he and Lauren Wagner
were part of the same service branch, the United States Air Force, and
that she outranked him, it was always hard for Reynolds to talk to her on
a first-name basis.  Simple propriety and manners of the kind that he'd
learned as a child in his native South Carolina kept him from doing
otherwise.  Lauren Wagner was his superior and he would always address
her in that fashion no matter what.  The only reason why Lauren no longer
tried to make him stop was because she'd come to realize that letting him
address her that way made him feel more at ease.
     "Of course I'm worried," Lauren finally answered his question as she
absently buttered a piece of bread and took a bite, "But Castor tells me
most of the people aren't up to the idea of turning back.  They'd *like*
to turn back, and who can blame them?  It's their homes and their worlds,
and there are friends and relatives of theirs fighting for those planets. 
I can understand, even though I pray to God it never comes to that.  But
my gut tells me  the Colonials don't want to go back through Risik space
anymore than we do.  I don't see that kind of sentiment among the
Colonials here on the Constellation, and Castor's seen enough to gauge
the mood in the rest of the Fleet.  So that's why I can look at Xaviar
and see a guy who's already fighting a losing war."
     "But what if you're wrong, Ma'mm?" Reynolds said, the agitation
still evident in his voice.  "I mean.....that guy is one slick
charmer----,"
     "He has to be, he's a politician," Lauren lightly interjected, but
it didn't have the effect she'd hoped it would.
     "I'm serious, Ma'mm!" Reynolds voice rose.  "A guy like that could
have the whole Fleet eating out of his hand and make the whole Colonial
population decide they *have* to go back!  And if that happens, where
does that leave us?  We'd be no better off than we were at Ne'Chak!"
     "Calm down, Reynolds," Jessica Clemens patted his arm, thinking back
to their shared experience in the Ne'Chak prison camp and how the airman
could sometimes be high strung.  Brandon Reynolds had been a nineteen
year old enlistee serving at a Washington State Air Force Base.  His Air
Force service in the Combat Security Police division was supposed to be a
temporary hitch to get him money for college and what he hoped would be a
good civilian career in law enforcement.  Instead, it turned into a
nightmare when a night he'd pulled guard duty by switching shifts with a
buddy who wanted to go into town, led to his encounter with a Risik probe
vessel on the perimeter of the base......and the beginning of a nightmare
he'd been unable to comprehend.  Before Jessica had been taken out of the
prison camp and given as a sex slave to a Risik officer, Lemeshik, she
could remember times when the young airman would be huddled in a corner
and crying to himself.  Asking the simple question, "Why me?"  Not even
Father Fisher's attempts at reassurance could offer much help.  
     Just like Ron, she thought as the memory of another fellow prisoner
at Ne'Chak, Ron Mathews, came back to her.  Ron had been the closest
thing to a romantic attachment she'd formed in her time there.  Like
Brandon Reynolds, there'd been a 'why me?' quality of homesickness in the
young man from upstate New York who'd worked for his father renting boats
at a local fishing resort.  But because Ron was a civilian with no
connections to the military, his "lost" quality made Jessica gravitate
toward him in a way she'd felt unable to with Brandon Reynolds. 
Reynolds, like herself, was still military.  The Risik motive behind his
abduction, just like hers, rooted from a clear method behind the madness. 
Not so, Ron.  His abduction had been a genuine mistake.  One that made
him more vulnerable to the breaking and torture the Risik had inflicted
on him.  That was why Jessica had taken such an interest in the young
man.....an interest that had led to occasional moments of intimacy when
they managed to have an off-day.  She didn't truly think of Ron as a
boyfriend.  She saw the shared intimacy more as a case of offering help
and comfort in a way that Cassiopeia once told her defined exactly what
the true purpose of what she'd done when she'd worked as a "socialator"
in the Colonies.  But it had nonetheless immunized her from making
similar overtures to Brandon Reynolds.  Reynolds was military, and he
still had enough inner discipline to keep from cracking to the same
degree that she'd seen Ron crack.  And there was also the fact that
Jessica wouldn't have felt right offering herself to more than one man at
the same time.  That was why she'd felt a sense of loyalty to Ron during
those days.
     When the day of liberation had come for the prisoners of Ne'chak, it
had marked a new beginning for the lives of so many.....but not for Ron
Mathews.  He'd been on the sick list at the time, and when an assault
team led by Lauren Wagner had landed to liberate the group of prisoners
that included him, he'd been shot and wounded by the Chief Guard while
being led out to freedom.  Despite the best efforts of the Galactica Life
Station team led by Dr. Salik, he hadn't made it.  It had been a crushing
blow to Jessica.  To see Ron come so close to freedom, only to lose his
life.  And to be denied a chance to see and talk to him again after her
own rescue from the hands of Lemeshik, prior to the liberation.
     But in time, Jessica had put that tragedy behind her.  Just as she'd
seen Brandon Reynolds put the hell of his experience as a Risik prisoner
behind him.  In that initial period, the young man who originally came
from South Carolina had become a new man.  The prospect of revenge on his
captors and going home had given his life meaning again.  Transforming
the moody, introspective airman into a true warrior and a valued member
of the Constellation's  Landing and Boarding team, though one that never
would be enough for the Elite Squadron unit.  Reynolds had passed his
first real test in the last encounter with the Risik and at the official
Welcome Aboard dinner afterwards, Jessica was struck by how loose and
carefree Reynolds was now.  As though he had buried forever the
frightened introvert at Ne'Chak and allowed the "good old boy" originally
from South Carolina who loved NASCAR racing to surface for the first time
to those who had only known him in the context of being a frightened, 
fellow prisoner.
     Now though, in the face of the mounting "Turn Back" sentiment,
Jessica could see the old side of Reynolds slowly coming back.  Reminding
her again of Ron Mathews.  And it concerned her greatly.  But she wasn't
sure what she could do beyond offering a few words of friendly
encouragement or suggesting he seek out Dr. Tarnia for counseling.  Even
if it hadn't been too soon since the death of Ron Mathews for her to
contemplate reaching out in the same way she'd done with him, simple
military professionalism told her that was a bad idea.  And she also had
to admit the situation they now faced wasn't the same as what it had been
like at Ne'Chak.  She could treat him as a friend in the basic
sense.....but no more than that, as she finished patting his arm with
gentle reassurance.
     "I'm sorry, Jess," Reynolds sighed and after taking a breath nodded
apologetically at Lauren,  "Ma'mm, sorry I spoke out of turn."
     "Forget it, Reynolds," Lauren shrugged, "I think it's better to just
blow the guy off.  The vibe I get from Castor is that he's doing the
equivalent of tilting at windmills.  Dreaming the Impossible Dream."
     "What other 'vibes' do you get from Castor?" Jessica smiled, trying
to break some of the tension that had set in.
     Lauren smirked, "I still have my secrets."
     As the two women talked, Reynolds slowly went back to his meal. 
Picking at it half-heartedly and then looking up at the monitor again
where Sire Xaviar's interview with Zara continued.  If he'd been alone he
might have extended his middle finger.  Instead, he could only allow
himself another disgusted shake of the head.
     His reactions and body language did not go unnoticed at the next
table, where a man who wished he was someplace else was making a quick
notation.


     Sire Xaviar's interview was also being watched in Commander Byrne's
quarters, where he was sharing lunch with his daughter, Jena.  
     "To think I used to consider him one of the good guys on the
Council," the Naval Officer said with a dry contempt.
     "He's not a bad man, Pop," Jena said defensively.  "He was always 
kind and considerate to us before."
     "Yeah, when he didn't see any of us as an obstacle," the contempt
rose in his voice as he finished his java.  "I wouldn't be surprised if
that bitch Lydia is the one controlling him now."
     "Oh come on, Pop!" Jena's disapproval grew.  "Don't assume the worst
in someone just because they're on the other side of an issue.  Forget
Lydia and think how tough it is for the Colonials.  Even Pelias
understands and he's been standing up for us the whole time."
     "Hooray for Pelias," her father grunted as he pushed aside his plate
and cast a final disapproving stare at the vid-com.  "The problem is your
boyfriend can't match Xaviar and Lydia when it comes to being charismatic
on the IFB.  And neither can Major Croft after the interview I saw him
give yesterday."
     She shook her head in disbelief, "Pop, why are you being so
stubborn?"
     Byrne let out a sigh, "It's not easy to explain, Jen," he said, "The
very thought we might see the population stampeded into abandoning
Earth.....and us.  It frightens me.  Especially when this past yahren has
been a time of new hope for us both, after all those yahrens being
marooned.  When you had to grow up without your mother.  When I thought
Ced was dead at the hands of the pirates who killed your mother.  Then
suddenly.....a miracle comes and we're off that hellhole, and we find
Ced, and I get my sense of purpose in life back, and we're on our way
home again.  And then we find more people from Earth who want to get home
again.  It's as if.....the last year was our reward for all those years
of suffering we went through, and the idea of losing it......yeah it
ticks me off."
     "But Pop," the young woman of eighteen protested, "Don't you think
they'd still let us go home even if they decided to turn around?  Why
would they insist on having us go back with them if it came to that?"
     For the first time, the bitterness seemed to fade from his
expression, "Yeah, Adama told me that's likely what would happen. 
But......the idea of the Constellation and the Adelaide trying to make it
the rest of the way ourselves?  We could do it, but.....it'd be a lot
more dangerous.  The protection we get from being part of this Fleet with
the Galactica and the baseship gives us security.  And......" he trailed
off.
     "And what?" she prodded him.
     He looked her in the eye, "Jen.....that would mean it would all fall
on me.  And......I don't want that burden.  I honest to God, don't.  Not
the burden of being in.....total command and being all alone at the top."
     "Why?" she'd never heard him say this before.  
     He didn't answer his daughter at first.  His mind was elsewhere. 
Going back decades to a time when his decision to engage the anti-matter
drive of the Saint Brendan at a point when the ship was close enough to
its sister, the Cabrillo, caused a freakish one-in-a-million chance that
created a wormhole effect and sent the two Earth ships far across the
stars and into the beginning of a decades long nightmare.  One that had
ended happily for him and for Jena and ultimately Cedric.  But one that
had ended in tragedy and horror for Jena's mother, and also for the crew
of the Cabrillo.  Even now, Byrne had never revealed to Jena, or Cedric
for that matter, what he'd finally learned from Adama about the fates of
Timothy Harms, Jean-Pierre St. Claire and Ehud Gar.  The first two
trapped and enslaved forever as demonic minions aboard a Derelict vessel
in the service of someone called Count Iblis.  The last survivor, Ehud,
who had escaped from the Derelict to be found later by the Proteans, a
catatonic shell of a man who spent his last yahrens in a prison cell
where he became known as "The Silent One."  Incapable of saying a word to
people he couldn't understand as he spent the rest of his life sketching
memories of the past on a prison cell wall.
     If I'd only waited thirty seconds to engage the anti-matter
drive.......it never would have happened.  None of it.  The last time I
was in total command with responsibility for everyone......I failed. 
Completely failed.  And it was only *six* of us then!  How in the name of
God could I ever handle the responsibility for over a couple hundred of
us?
     "Pop?" Jena prodded.
     Abruptly, like a light switch being turned off, the Naval Officer
straightened himself and the full military bearing befitting his command
posture.
     "I can't talk anymore, Jen," he rose from his chair, "I've got a
meeting with Dante in five minutes."
     Jena Byrne saw her father depart and felt a mixture of sadness and
frustration.  He'd been on the verge of opening up to her in a truly
meaningful way for the first time in a long while but true to his nature,
had pulled back before it could go too far.


     When Adama heard that Baltar needed to talk to him over a matter he
considered "urgent", the Fleet Commander knew that this was not going to
be a stress-free day.  He no longer harbored any of the old resentments
about the one-time traitor, because far too much had happened in the last
yahren to demonstrate that Baltar's reform was genuine.  Ayesha's
influence had done much for that, and he thanked the Lords she'd been
here and that she'd possessed the selfless sense of obligation to return
to her husband even though it had meant breaking the heart of Starbuck's
father.  But he also knew that any matter pertaining to the Detente and
the relationship of the Cylons to the Humans was a subject that always
required careful navigation.  And if Baltar said it was something
"urgent" then that would likely mean something akin to navigating a
minefield.
     When he activated the com-line he noticed that Ayesha was seated
next to her husband.
     "Yes, Baltar," he said pleasantly.
     "Adama," the one-time traitor said, "I....needed to contact you
about something I think is very urgent.  Ayesha and I both saw Sire
Xaviar's latest interview on the IFB just now."
     "Oh yes," Adama tried not to let his disgust show,
"He's......becoming more vocal on the subject of Turning Back."
     "Adama......" Baltar seemed to be choosing his words carefully,
"I.....don't wish to be critical, but......if the Council is openly
discussing this issue and considering any kind of vote on the subject,
then you realize......the opinions of my crew should also factor into the
decision."
     A slow dawning came over Adama as he realized that for nearly a
sectar, one aspect of the debate and the potential ramifications had not
been properly considered.
     "Yes," he nodded, "Yes, I.....understand what you mean. 
Have.....you and Ayesha received any feedback from Commander Moray and
the others regarding what their......ultimate preference is?"
     "It hasn't been stated in explicit terms," Ayesha spoke for the
first time, "But the prevailing sentiment Baltar and I have seen is the
crew would prefer not to go back.  Because going back means doing
something they already had to do once before, and while they have no
regrets about what they did then, they don't want to be put in
an.....awkward situation again."
     Of killing Cylons, Adama internally finished the thought Ayesha
hesitated to say aloud.  The crew of Baltar's ship had already done that
once when Baltar had encouraged their defection and the support baseship
and its crew had been destroyed.  Since then, they'd never had to
contemplate the idea of killing their fellow Cylons again.  But turning
back and joining the Resistance would mean by extension forcing Baltar's
crew to join the ranks of the "enlightened" Cylons who were also taking
part in the Resistance against the Cylon High Command.  And from what
Cain and Ila had told him, that meant not just killing their hated
superiors of the higher classes, but also their fellow
centurions.......including those who hadn't been exposed to the message
of enlightenment.
     "Yes.....that is something that needs to be considered."
     "That carries this ramification too, Adama," Baltar added, "If you
choose to turn back without us......you lose the ability to talk to the
Pegasus during the journey.  The transmissions as you know, are dependent
on our proximity to the Galactica since they initially come through our
receiver."
     "Yes, I'm aware of that," Adama was nodding vigorously as he
realized that these were matters that should have been discussed earlier. 
"You may let Commander Moray know that I am absolutely opposed to the
idea of turning back and that if he wishes to make any statement to the
Council about it, he is welcome to."
     "Commander Moray understands the awkwardness that would present,"
Ayesha said.  "If any address to the Council is necessary, it's been
agreed that I should be the one to do it on behalf of our crew's
perspective."
     A brilliant choice, Adama thought.  Ayesha, unlike Baltar or Moray,
wouldn't pose the risk of reopening old wounds from the past.
     "Thank you, Ayesha.  I'll let you know when the next Council meeting
will be and you can be prepared."
     "Thank you, Commander," she respectfully bowed and then allowed
Baltar to move back into the center of the frame.
     "I know you can't order Xaviar not to give interviews, Adama," the
one-time traitor said, "But I think a gentle suggestion to him might be
in order.  Remember.....even my crew watches the IFB."
     "He's not likely to be receptive.  Of late, he seems to prefer
spending more time with Siress Lydia."
     The one-time traitor let out a smirk, "What was it I said to you on
Liberty, Adama?  There's real danger from her."
     The connection ended.  Whatever mild exasperation Adama might have
once had over Baltar's abrupt ending of the exchange was more than
exceeded by his exasperation over how the situation with Xaviar was
getting more serious. 


     Agro-Ship #1, the largest of the ships in the Fleet for growing
crops and conducting additional experiments was also known for offering
several spots aimed at recreational activity.  One such spot was the
Public Gardens, situated under one of the great domes that looked out
into space.  Here, along numerous walkways and paths, people could take
in the sights of the trees and plants that grew under the dome and it
could be the equivalent of a walk through the woods on one of the Twelve
worlds.  Up to twenty people at a time were allowed to sign in and spend
up to a centar or two going through the gardens to contemplate on their
beauty, and perhaps mediate on their own situations in life.
     A middle-aged man in nondescript Colonial clothing was at that
moment meditating in front of a giant Caprican pine that extended to
within a few feet of the top of the dome.  But his meditation had nothing
to do with the beauty of the Gardens and everything to do with a telecom
he'd received last evening.  A telecom from someone he hadn't heard from
in a long while.  Because it had been so long, he'd hoped it was because
the person had forgotten about him.  But the telecom message only
revealed how much wishful thinking that had been.
     The sound of distinct feminine footsteps coming up the path finally
told the man that the source of the telecom, asking him to meet her in
this place, had arrived.  He slowly turned around and saw her.
     "Hello, Dr. Colin," Lydia smiled at the expert in facial alteration. 
"It's been a *very* long while.  Since before the Detente even."
     "Still not long enough," he said as he took a step toward the
Siress, "What do you want to talk to me about?"
     "Well first, Dr. Colin, I think we should remember the terms of our
agreement we reached last yahren," she said nonchalantly.  "You were the
one responsible for doing Antipas's dirty work when it came to covering
the tracks of his bodyguard Kimo, the man who killed the Colonial
Security Chief, Lieutenant Didion.  Because you were always at Antipas's
beck and call, that's why when the nature of my relationship with
Antipas.....changed, I made it clear that you were on my payroll from now
on, and that if Antipas ever sent another one of his bodyguards or
henchmen to you, you were to report it to me, immediately."
     "Antipas never made any assassination attempt on you before he ended
up in the Prison Barge," Dr. Colin said defensively, "There was never any
reason for me to contact you, Siress Lydia."
     "True," the auburn-haired siress nodded, "You were lucky on that
point, Dr. Colin.  Just as you were lucky Antipas never mentioned your
name when he was finally arrested and forced to plead guilty to Kimo's
murder.  Not even when he gave his parting words to all of us when he
went into exile with the Il Fadim and Galerius and Elegabalus.  You have
been living a *very* charmed life, Doctor."
     "Is there a point to any of this, Siress Lydia?" Dr. Colin knew the
shoe was going to drop eventually, but he wanted her to come right out
now and stop toying with him.  
     "There is," Lydia said, "I've never felt there was any reason to
expose your connections to Antipas regarding Kimo.  It's not as if you
were a *true* accessory to murder, whether it be Kimo's of Didion, or
Antipas's of Kimo.  What I was more interested in was something I found
in the Tribunal record of someone else who is no longer among our ranks. 
Someone named......Press."
     Colin's eyes narrowed as he heard the name of another one-time
bodyguard of Antipas.....who had ended up in the employ of Sire Uri and
been hired to kill several people who had learned of the Sire's own
treason prior to the Destruction.  Who had ultimately brought Uri down
after his arrest and later followed Antipas and the others into permanent
exile on an isolated planet.
     "I never met the man and never performed any facial alteration on
him."
     "But you were *prepared* to, Doctor," Lydia said smoothly. 
"According to the transcript of Press's statement to Sire Solon, Uri told
him he was prepared to send Press to the finest practitioner in facial
alteration if it was necessary and things got too......hot as it were
after he killed an IFB employee named Rose who knew too much.  Now that
got me to do some checking of Uri's old telecom records which I am able
to access given my position as Vice-President.  It would seem that in the
immediate period following Rose's murder, Sire Uri was in touch with you
no less than four times."
     He tried not to look rattled, "What of it?"
     "I think it's safe to say that Sire Uri wasn't interested in facial
alteration for himself, Doctor," Lydia gently mocked.  "He was trying to
make sure you'd be......at the ready as it were, if your services were
needed."
     "Uri never mentioned anyone's murder to me.  Not Rose, not
Charybdis, and certainly not his niece and her husband."
     "I think you'd have a hard time convincing Sire Solon of that,
*especially* if the circumstances surrounding your work for Antipas were
to simultaneously become part of the record.  They all add up to a
picture of a man ready to offer his services to killers, knowing full
well that he's *dealing* with killers, and thus makes himself an
accessory under the existing statutes."
     Feeling angry by her brazenness, he decided it was time to land a
counterpunch.  "What about my work for you?"
     "What about it?" she was unimpressed, "What work are we talking
about, Dr. Colin?  I've never had to call upon your services for
*anything* since we came to our agreement.  Until now.  If you want to
keep an anonymously leaked packet surrounding your unsavory associations
from reaching Zara, you might want to consider doing me a favor I'm in
need of."
     Dr. Colin knew that he was beaten, but he felt he could at least go
down with one insult, "I suppose I can add you to the ranks of my
'unsavory associations', can I, Siress Lydia?"
     She smiled at him, as though she reveled in the put-down, "Perhaps
so, Dr. Colin.  Now if we can discuss the particulars of what I *may* be
needing you to do?"


     It was getting close for Jarvik to finally end his surreptitious
inspection of the Constellation and make his way back to the Rising Star. 
All day, he'd been a nondescript presence aboard the ship attracting no
attention.  The fact that he wasn't dressed in either a Colonial warrior
uniform or one of the uniforms from Earth didn't necessarily mean
anything because all arriving personnel on the ship automatically
received a security check, and in Jarvik's case, his Council pass as
Lydia's pilot gave him the ability to go anywhere he wanted in the
Fleet.......or anywhere Lydia wanted him to go.  His official cover story
in case he was stopped was to flash his Council pass and coolly report
that he was on an unofficial inspection tour.
     It was largely the terror of facing Lydia's potential wrath that
gave him the strength to keep an outer calm throughout the day as he'd
walked the decks of the ship and above all, kept his ears alert for any
signs of negative talk in the ranks of the crew about either Sire Xaviar
or about the "Turn Back" segment of the Fleet's population.  If he heard
any, he was to casually listen in and let his mind become like that of a
shuttle flight recorder that would report anything he heard back to Lydia
when he returned.  
     For what purpose he was being asked to do this, he still couldn't
guess.  It was clear that Lydia either wanted a new recruit for a mad
scheme of hers in the way she'd recruited Charka, or else she wanted
someone to target as a potential fall guy.
     It made more sense to Jarvik that it would be the latter.  The
Charka incident had been such a colossal failure and so unlike Lydia's
normal method of operations that he was sure this time, Lydia's approach
would be more methodical.  Using him to do the legwork and select a
promising target.  And then, he would likely be asked to do something
that would implicate the target in something that Lydia hoped would work
to her benefit.
     But what?  He thought.  What does she hope to accomplish? 
     He thought again of the primary task of watching out for negative
comments on Xaviar and the Turn Back movement.  Perhaps Lydia ultimately
*didn't* have some sinister type of conspiracy in mind.  Maybe it was
something politically ruthless but ultimately harmless like gathering
intelligence on what the Earthers were saying and using it to ingratiate
herself more to Xaviar.  Certainly, Xaviar was the man she wanted to
share her bed with at this point.  Xaviar was the only man left on the
Council who could potentially give Lydia an opening for higher power that
she could no longer get by herself.  If Lydia had enough hard evidence
about the Earth population expressing contempt for Xaviar and the Turn
Back movement courtesy of Jarvik.....that would of itself be helpful for
her and satisfy her immediate goals.
     It would make more sense, that's for sure.  But.....I can't help but
think it isn't something as simple as that.  And if it isn't........
     The words of his father's message from the Pegasus now filled his
head.  "If you think you've been happy with the choice you made, then I
guess there's nothing I can say about that."
     No, Father, his mind cried out.  Tell me more.  Tell me what you
think I can do to get myself away from her!
     "Anything I can do for you?"
     Jarvik's inner torment was shattered by the sound of a polite but
puzzled voice.  He looked up and saw the face of a man in a Colonial
uniform.
     "Uh, no.  Nothing at all."
     "Well can I at least ask what it is you're doing here, sir and what
your business is?" Sergeant Metxan, the Colonial Security Guard on
detached service to the Constellation as Lauren Wagner's deputy
master-at-arms wasn't yet in an overly suspicious frame of mind, but he
did find it odd to see a  civilian he didn't know by sight wandering the
corridors.
     Jarvik kept himself a picture of in-command calm as he flashed his
Council pass.
     "Yes, sir, I see you have Council clearance to be aboard the
Constellation, but what is your purpose being in this section?"  Metxan's
tone was still polite but he wasn't ready to be satisfied yet.
     "It's an inspection tour, Sergeant," he said firmly.  "I'm not at
liberty to say whether for the whole Council or specific members. 
Council members always have their own reasons.  I just gather data."  And
that is the truth, so help me on the Book of the Word!
     "I suppose so, sir," the Security Guard said, "But there are
sensitive areas that are off-limits even to Council members, let alone
their representatives."
        "I understand, Sergeant," Jarvik wasn't going to call attention
to himself by arguing with the man.  "I don't believe the Rejuvenation
Center is considered a sensitive area?"
     "No sir," Metxan said, "But you'll never find it looking for that
name.  On this ship they call it the 'Rec Hall',"
     "Really?" Jarvik shook his head, "These Earthers really seem to
insist on doing everything their way."
     "Helps their morale, sir.  I don't have a problem with it." he
motioned down the corridor, "That way. Third door to your left."
     "Thank you, Sergeant," Jarvik said as he headed down and decided
this would be his last stop on the Constellation.  When he was done, he'd
go back, give his report to Lydia and hope she wouldn't have any more
need of his services as far as this matter.
     But as he stepped into the "Rec Hall" he already knew that was
wishful thinking.  Lydia would have more to ask of him.  He had to resign
himself to that.
     The "Rec Hall" he noticed was different from the Galactica's
Rejuvenation Center.  The size of the Constellation did not permit the
greater level of space the Battlestar enjoyed so the level of amenities
wasn't as significant as he might have thought.  To one side, several
crew were sitting in comfortable chairs so they could watch a modest
sized vid-com screen.  He noticed it wasn't set to the IFB but was
instead tied in to show old vid-com discs of Earth-based entertainment
programs that had been salvaged from the personal effects of the freed
prisoners as well as Commander Byne.  On the far side, part of the room
had been set aside for exercise equipment including two stationery
cycling devices and also what he was pretty sure was some kind of long
bag used for training in the old sport of pugilism.  What attracted his
attention though was the crewman who was taking repeated jabs at the bag. 
The same crewman he'd noticed in the ward room earlier in the day looking
agitated over Sire Xaviar's speech.  The one named "Reynolds."  And even
from more than ten feet away, it was possible to hear the words Reynolds
was muttering aloud as he delivered another blow to the bag.
     "God damned fake.  All handshakes, then stabbing us in the back
going on TV."
     Jarvik tried not to show any reaction even though his instinct was
to let his eyes widen.  The crewman was undoubtedly referring to Xaviar
and taking his frustrations out on the bag.
     Slowly, Lydia's pilot made his way over to the part of the room
where exercise equipment gave way to several game tables.  The one
closest to the pugilism bag was for Table Ball.  A Colonial game that
Jarvik recalled was also known to the people of Earth by the odd name of
"Ping Pong".
     He decided to take a chance.  If it worked, he'd have exactly what
he needed.
     "Hey, Mister?" he called over to Reynolds.  "Could you give me a
game here?"
     The Air Force enlisted man slowly turned his head, still pummeling
the bag.  He then seemed to shrug and came over to the table where he
grabbed a paddle and the small ball.  
     "Do I know you?" he asked.
     "No, I'm just visiting the Constellation.  Inspection tour for the
Fleet."  Jarvik wasn't going to let himself volunteer too much, but he
wasn't going to lie if he could avoid it.
     "Bureaucrat, huh?" Reynolds hit the ball for his first serve which
Jarvik managed to barely return.  It had been yahrens since he'd played
the game and he knew that he was liable to get trounced.  He could only
hope that he made enough of a go to gain Airman Reynolds' trust.
     Two more volleys and finally Reynolds delivered a smash that whizzed
past Jarvik before he could even turn his arm.  He slowly made his way to
retrieve the ball.
     "Yeah, I think that's the right term in your language.  It's
bureautician in ours," he reached the end of the table and tossed the
ball back to him.  "Same function, I'm sure."
     The game continued and as Jarvik predicted, it was one-sided.  It
was clear that Reynolds had either played the game very well before, or
else he had found a new surge of adrenaline that made him play better
than he'd ever played in his life.
     Five centons later, Reynolds was setting his paddle down and
starting to walk away.
     "That it?" a puzzled Jarvik asked.
     The airman stopped and frowned at him.  "11 to 1.  Under the rules
that means the game's over."
     "Oh.....is that how you play it?  I don't think we have anything
like that.  You just keep going to 21."
     His expression grew irritated, "I apologize if I cause offense by
playing Earth rules instead of yours."
     "Hey, take it easy," Jarvik realized this was giving him an even
bigger opportunity as he made his way around the table, "I'm not
complaining.  I probably wouldn't have gotten another point as it is."
     Reynolds sighed, "Sorry.  Not your fault.  I'm just......" he then
shook his head, "Nothing."
     "Hey, it's no problem.  Maybe I can buy you a drink?"
     "Thanks, but......I don't think so.  Not if the bar has your damned
IFB playing non-stop."
     Jarvik let out a chuckle as the two of them started walking toward
the Rec Hall door.  "You don't think much of Zara and Zed, either, I
take?"
     "It's not your anchors who piss me off," Reynolds said as they
stepped out into the corridor.  "It's who your anchors keep interviewing. 
Day after frigging day."
     "Who do you mean?" Jarvik decided to play dumb.
     "Sire Frigging Xaviar!" the exasperation poured out of him, "That
guy just goes on and on about how......" he stopped and then eyed Jarvik
with suspicion.  "Where do you stand on the whole thing?"
     "What thing?" he tried to look confused.
     "Earth!  Do you want to keep going to Earth or are you one of those
'Turn Back' guys?"
     "Me?" Jarvik shrugged, "I'm perfectly content to keep going forward. 
I'm not crazy to see what's in back of us again."
     The airman kept eyeing him, "You're not bullshitting me?"
     "I'd have to know what that means.  But as far as Earth goes, that's
where I want to go."
     The suspicious air faded from Reynolds as he seemed convinced.
     "Too bad you're not on the Council instead of him," the Earth native
sighed as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.  "Somebody ought to shut
that guy up."
     "He does go on and on," Jarvik kept his tone even but inside he was
starting to feel nervous.
     "Nothing but a goddamned two-faced son-of-a-bitch," his voice grew
lower and then he looked apologetically at him, "Sorry.  I'm being bad
company."
     "No problem," Jarvik shrugged, "Saying bad things about Council
members comes easy to a lot of us," he then added, "Sure you don't want a
drink?  Totally on me."
     "No, I've got to report for duty in an hour," he extended his hand,
"Happy inspecting, Mr. Bureaucrat."
     Jarvik had to force down all the guilt inside him as he took it,
"Happy duty shift."
     Reymolds moved off and Jarvik deliberately slowed his pace so the
airman could get ahead of him.  When he finally disappeared around the
corner, Lydia's pilot had to summon all his nerve to keep from collapsing
against the wall.
     This is what she wants.  I know it.  I've heard other people
mumbling but not like....him.  Especially after talking to him.  I could
ignore it.  But if I did and she didn't get what she wanted me to get
her, she'd just make me go out and do more of this sneaking around until
I gave her what she wanted.  If I give her this guy's name......then
maybe she'll leave me alone.  And maybe it isn't something so bad she
wants this kind of info for.  Just stuff to pass along to Xaviar and get
more on his good side.
     That was the only way he could rationalize what he was going to do
next when he returned to the Rising Star and gave his report to Lydia. 
And at this point, he was sure it was the only way he could keep his
sanity.


     For some time, Lydia wondered just how important her title of
Council Vice-President really was.  Long ago, Adama had made certain he'd
done what he could to freeze her out of key strategy sessions.  And the
end of her relationship with Commander Byrne had cut off her ability to
use the Earth faction as a new potential power base.  Leaving her
frustrated and wondering how she could ever find a way of reasserting her
position as a force to be reckoned with.
     If I hadn't been so frustrated over Kevin cutting me off, I never
would have gotten into that whole stupid mess with Charka.  I must have
been on plant vapors to think that was going to generate any kind of
backlash against Adama.  I suppose if I'd found someone with no baggage
in the Fleet with just a grudge against Cylon cooperation it could have
worked, but recruiting one of the last of the hardened criminals who
didn't follow Antipas and the rest into exile?  Stupid, stupid, stupid!
     She also knew she'd taken too grave a risk trying to assist Charka
by disguising herself and trying to kill Master Chief Varica to help
Charka gain access to the Life Station to carry out his plot.  All things
being what they were, she was glad Varica hadn't died, and wasn't able to
recall who had tried to kill him.
     Damn you, dear little Kevin, she thought with bitterness.  You're
the reason I did that.  All because you willingly took my kindness to you
and then threw me over because of something as petty as a leak to the
IFB.  What an impulsive, hotheaded boray you are.  If I had my druthers,
I'd be centering this scheme around *you*!  Making *you* pay for throwing
me over.  Or maybe focusing on your dear daughter and embarrassing her
boyfriend, Sire Pelias in the process!
     That option was tempting.  It appealed to the side of her that
wanted to strike a blow for personal revenge.  But that, she realized,
only ran the risk of her scheme being too easily exposed.  Her
adversaries and enemies were well aware of what she'd gone through with
Byrne.  Any plot that centered on him or his daughter, or even Sire
Pelias for that matter, would automatically raise the felgercarb
detectors of Adama and all others who distrusted her and knew her for
what she really was.
     Personal revenge is a poor pathway to true power.  The revenge can
wait until *after* power is secured, she thought as she went through the
data files she was able to access.  Now at long last, her status as
Vice-President was paying an important dividend to her.  As an honorific
courtesy, she could access anyone's file in the Fleet on the grounds that
it was "Council business".  She wasn't free to publicize or release any
of it, but at least she could legitimately search such files and look for
anything that could serve her purposes.  Like now for instance.  Jarvik
had given her a potentially viable name to check and she was now looking
at the file of Airman Brandon Reynolds to see if there were other
telltale indications that made him the perfect target for her plans.
     The file consisted of a one page service record reflecting his
current status and designation in the Fleet, which was true of every
member of the population.  Then there was a video and transcript of his
formal debriefing which all liberated Earthers had gone through after
their arrival.  She started by reading the transcript and taking some
notes.  And then after a centar, she decided to switch to the video.
     The video showed Airman Reynolds seated at a table while Sergeant
Lomas of Colonial Security conducted the interview.
     "Your name?"
     "Brandon Reynolds."
     "Your age?"
     "Oh....I guess leaving out the years of suspended animation, I'd
be.....twenty-six now."
     "Where were you born?"
     "On Earth."
     "Specifically where?"
     "Spartanburg, South Carolina.  United States of America."
     "And what was your designation at the time you were abducted by the
Risik?"
     "Airman First Class, United States Air Force.  Serving in the Combat
Security Police division, assigned to Fairchild Air Force Base, Spokane,
Washington."
     "United States of America?"
     "Yes, that's correct."  
     "Describe the circumstances of how you were abducted by the Risik."
     As Lydia watched the young airman relate the details of his
abduction, she saw things the printed transcript of the interview hadn't
revealed.  How nervous and slightly fidgety the young airman suddenly
became as he relived the pain of the experience.  And then as he recalled
the details of his imprisonment there was a distinct tremble in his
voice.  Followed by a transition to one of......relief when he described
how he felt when he realized that not only had his captivity ended but he
was headed home again as well.
     "I'd.....spent all that time resigned to the idea I'd never see
Earth again," Airman Reynolds said.  "That even if we were rescued it
would come from some other alien race the Risik was fighting.  Never in a
million years did I think it was going to be other humans, let alone
people headed for.....Earth."
     Lydia froze the image and studied the face of the man.  Staring at
it for more than two centons as her mind digested everything she'd
studied about Airman First Class Brandon Reynolds in the past centar.
     Finally, the Siress leaned back in her chair and simply said two
words aloud.
     "He'll do."

Chapter Five

     "So how do I read?" Sheba asked as Cassiopeia finished the tests
she'd been conducting.
     Her friend smiled reassuringly, "You read perfect, Sheba.  One
sectar after giving birth you're a perfect picture of good health."
     "Nice to know," Sheba got up from the examination table and reached
for her jacket.  "About how far away am I from being cleared to return to
flight duty?"
     The blonde doctor shrugged, "At this point, Sheba, that's entirely
up to you.  Physically and mentally......I'd say you're ready now.  But
whether you think you should go back to flying vipers this soon at a
critical time of your baby's life......that's the intangible."
     "I know," Sheba nodded, "I.....want to be there for Bethany Two
during this stage.  I know at some point I'll have to make arrangements
to have someone on-hand more often like Athena does for Little Zac and
Little Ila but....I don't feel ready for that, yet."
     "It's a joy to have children, but I can tell how hectic it is,"
Cassiopeia sighed, "That's why Starbuck and I decided we're not having
children until we reach Earth."
     Sheba finished putting her jacket on, "I can understand that.  I
suppose a lot of us are waiting for that moment, and now that the FIU
estimates we can't be more than a few yahrens away, it's easier to start
planning in those terms."
     Cassiopeia nodded but said nothing at first.  Right away, Sheba
picked up on what she was too hesitant to mention.
     "Of course.....you're wondering if we're still going to go to
Earth?"
     "It's getting harder not to ask that question.  Especially when Sire
Xaviar keeps giving interviews and more people are speaking out."
     "I suppose so," Sheba admitted, "What do *you* think about that,
Cassie?"
     "I think we have to go on," Cassiopeia said without hesitation, "And
not just because of the Earth people.  I.....don't think I could handle
getting thrust into a war zone again.  With Earth.....we can finally be
removed from all that." she then added, "I'm not slighting what Cain and
Ila are doing, Sheba.  They're answering a noble calling to go back and
help the Resistance.  But I just can't contemplate that path for
ourselves.  And believe me......it's got nothing to do with wanting to
keep my distance from your father now that Starbuck and I are sealed."
     "I never would have thought that of you, Cassiopeia," Sheba said
sympathetically.  "I understand your feelings completely.  And.....I
agree with them."
     "Do you?"
     "I'm sick of fighting, Cassie," Sheba sighed.  "I'm ready to keep
doing my job as a warrior until we reach Earth, but......when we do, I
want no part of being a warrior or being in the military any longer. 
When we get to Earth, I want to find the quietest, most remote spot on
the planet and spend the rest of my life with Apollo raising our family
in peace."
     Cassiopeia nodded faintly in understanding, "And.....your father?"
     She turned away from her and was looking off into the distance in
contemplation, "It's enough for me that I'm able to talk to him now and
then and know how he's doing.  But.....he has his life, and I have mine. 
We're long past the point where there's room for both of us to be
together, and......I'm okay with that.  And......I think he's come to
accept that too.  Especially since----," she trailed off and looked back
at her father's one-time lover, "Lords of Kobol, Cassie, I forgot to tell
you.  He's found a new girlfriend."
     She hadn't expected that news, "My goodness.  I.....told him in my
last message he was free to find anyone he wanted and that he didn't have
to feel bound by any old obligations to me, but......who is it?"
     Sheba told her and recounted to Cassie what she knew of Bridge
Officer Kylie.
     "The crew never told me the rumors to my face, but......I always
knew she carried a torch for my father and kept a respectful distance out
of propriety," she said.  "I guess.....now that they're going Home and
there's a real possibility of a long-term future if they can liberate the
Colonies, it makes it easier to start thinking again about long-term
relationships.  Including marriage."
     "I guess so," Cassiopeia said.  "Do you....plan on sending her a
message?"
     "Eventually," Cain's daughter said, "I may wait until after we get
news about what happens at Cannes Garrison.  That's the next major hurdle
for them at this point."
     "How difficult will that be, Sheba?" an edge of concern entered her
voice.
     Sheba decided she couldn't mince words, "Cannes is the reason we
thought it was too dangerous to get back to the Colonies after Molocay. 
Granted, they had more baseship strength then, but it's still the biggest
Cylon base between the Colonies and Gomorrah."
     Suddenly, the blonde doctor's face broke into a relaxed smile.
     "He'll find a way, Sheba."
     Cain's daughter smiled back at her as she gave a friendly wave and
left the Life Station.


     "Commander Byrne," the executive officer of the Constellation said
with some hesitation.  
     "Yes, Captain?"
     "A.....Council Shuttle is arriving in a few centons."
     "And?"
     Dante took a breath, "And Siress Lydia wants you to officially meet
her."
     The Naval Officer's expression darkened, "Tell her I'm not
available."
     "Sir.....her exact words were, and I quote, 'If Commander Byrne
isn't there to officially greet the Council Vice-President and receive me
on official business in his office, I will personally petition the
Council to have him relieved of his command for gross insubordination
immediately.'"
     He let out a combination of smirk and sigh, "I suppose I should have
expected that.  All right, I'll be down there.  And....make sure she's
formally piped aboard with full ceremonies as befitting her position. 
You have the conn."
     "Yes, sir."
     

     When Lydia arrived and Byrne formally greeted her, the exchanges
were filled with the insincere smiles and fake courtesies that everyone
in the landing area knew were fake and insincere.  Nonetheless, Byrne
politely motioned her to follow him to his office.  They exchanged no
words though until they were both inside and alone.
     "What reason brings you to the Constellation, Siress?" the formality
in his voice was purposefully forced.
     "Much," Lydia decided this was going to be an opportunity to settle
some scores, in addition to carrying out her ultimate task.  "It's clear
you've heard from Adama about what the liaison officer had to say."
     His expression froze for only a fraction of a micron but it was long
enough for her to see it, and it made her smile with satisfaction.
     "Oh yes, dear little Kevin.  I read it too.  As Council
Vice-President I'm entitled to see any official document that doesn't
rate a high level of military classification.  I found it most amusing. 
It's only because I know a *lot* about the skills you're capable of with
your hands that I knew you couldn't have performed the artistry in the
turbo-flush that was at my expense."
     Byrne managed to recover himself as he realized  there were
distinctly non-official reasons for her visit.  That meant he didn't have
to observe the rigid formality any longer and could be candid with his
one-time lover.  
     "No, Lydia,.  I admit I didn't draw it, but whoever did, captured
your personality quite perfectly."
     Lydia smirked at him, "My, my, so you admit it.  You *are* letting
personal grudges dictate your conduct in how you encourage your crew to
act and treat superiors in the chain of command."
     "Those incidents won't happen again," he said forcefully.  "I've
given Adama my word.  And that also means whenever you come here on
official business, the crew is to give you their full cooperation and
treat you with total respect.  As to what someone says about you in the
privacy of their bunkroom.....that's their private business."
     "Just like what passed between us in *my* bedroom was *our* private
business, dear little Kevin," an edge of mocking entered her voice. 
"Unless....I decided to make it otherwise."
     Byrne's expression darkened, "What are you getting at, Lydia?"
     When she spoke, there was cold contempt in her voice.  "I'm used to
dealing with men who hate me because I chose not to conform to their
notions of female submissiveness.  That's how I made a success of myself
on my home world as a successful woman of business.  I didn't get my
wealth or my privilege by inheriting it or marrying into it, I *earned*
it.  Every last cubit of it.  So I understand why there are some types of
men who resent me for what I am, and how I've made a success of myself
and I accept that.  But what I won't accept is being treated like
yesterday's garbage by a hypocrite like you."
     Byrne's anger had turned to total confusion.
     "Oh, you're confused, Kevin?" Lydia didn't let up.  "Wondering what
it is I'm talking about?  Well let's have it out.  What was the reason
that made you decide after many passionate sectars of intimacy between us
that suddenly, we were through and I was now to be treated by your crew
like a plague?"
     "You know the answer to that," Byrne had to force himself to speak
as he found it revolting to be in her presence and have to endure her
raving, "When you made that leak to the IFB about Petty Officer Clemens
and put her life in danger......that was a betrayal I couldn't overlook."
     Lydia rolled her eyes, "Oh, *really* now.  Informing the people
about something they had a right to know becomes my greatest sin in your
eyes, dear Kevin?  Don't make me laugh.  The public has a right to know
about *all* of you, because *we're* the ones who've given all of you a
*lot*.  And some would say a lot more than perhaps you're entitled to."
     "Are you writing Sire Xaviar's speeches now, Lydia?" Byrne held his
ground.  "I thought his vocal delivery on the IFB reminded me of you."
     "Sire Xaviar is a man of genuine convictions," Lydia then went for
the jugular, "Which is more than I can say of you, you ungrateful
hypocritical boray."
     His only reaction was a bemused stare.
     "How many times did you gladly crawl into bed with me when you
*knew* about my reputation for being controversial as it were?" her voice
dripped with contempt.  "None of that mattered to you, then.  You were
all too happy to accept the charms of a beautiful woman after you'd gone
without female companionship on that planet for all those yahrens.  But
all of a sudden, I say something to the IFB that the public would have
found out about eventually, and *then* you develop this heavy-handed
streak of moral outrage about what kind of a woman you think I am? 
You're a hypocrite, Kevin.  The biggest one of them all.  You never gave
felgercarb about what I may or may not have done to my fellow Colonials,
but oh my, one slight offense to one of your fellow Earthers, and only
then do you decide your manhood dictates throwing me over and telling
your crew to treat me like a Piscean Plague and even preventing me from
reaching out to the Risik defectors.  Well your days of having fun at my
expense are now over, Kevin, and not just because Adama's told you to
hold your fire.  From now on, if you want to keep me from deciding to
reveal some secrets that *I* know about you, you'll go further than
Adama's told you to."
     For the first time his bravado faded as he knew right away what she
was talking about.
     "Oh my.  Did I strike a nerve, dear little Kevin?" she taunted him. 
"Like how you spent that first night we slept together opening up your
heart and crying your eyes out about how it was all your fault you and
your crew ended up in that.....wormhole?  Because you *could* have waited
another thirty microns to activate the anti-matter engines and maybe the
proximity between your ship and the other one wouldn't have mattered? 
How your skills as a Commander of people aren't what they're cracked up
to be?"
     His eyes glared with hate at her as he slowly shook his head,
"Bitch," he whispered.
     "So what if I am?" she mocked, "That's how I learned to make a
success of myself.  By knowing how the business world on my home planet
was cutthroat and ruthless and how the deals had to be made.  If I'd been
a man, you would have applauded  me as a rugged individualist who knew
how to get ahead!"
     He shook his head but was still too angry to say anything.
     "I guess I've said my piece regarding all the unfinished personal
business between us," she took a step back, "Now let's get back to the
*official* matters that prompted my coming here, *Commander Byrne.*"
     "Yes, let's get back to them, Madame Vice-President," Byrne wanted
this over and fast.  He wasn't going to waste any more time than he
needed to.
     "Good," the fake smile returned, "As you're aware, there's increased
sentiment in the Fleet that the Earth crew of both the Constellation and
Adelaide have become too isolated from the rest of us and received too
much in the way of....deference.  That they need to start making the
rounds more in the Fleet on some temporary detached service aboard the
Galactica.  I think it's time as a gesture of goodwill that you tell
Adama and the Council  you intend to rotate the Earth crew of both ships
to spend detached duty on the Galactica for up to a sectan or two. 
Bunking there, wearing Colonial uniforms and becoming part of the way
things are *really* done in this Fleet."
     "You don't have the authority to order me to do that."
     "No, I don't.  That's why I said you were going to *volunteer* that,
my dear Kevin.  It will go a long ways in terms of a goodwill gesture on
your part and just maybe......it'll weaken a good deal of Xaviar's
arguments on the IFB.  And that would be beneficial to you, wouldn't it?"
     He felt the smirk returning to him, "And just why would you give me
beneficial advice since you clearly have no interest in wanting me to
come crawling back into your bed again?"
     She returned it, "Because I enjoy holding the winning Pyramid hand
over you.  That's the card game *we* play, Kevin.  Not that other
felgercarb you're trying to force on the rest of us.  I want you to start
assigning  Earth crew to do detached duty on the Galactica with the
long-term goal of having *every* liberated prisoner from Ne'Chak put in a
stint......and in return I'll vote in favor of scheduling a Fleetwide
Referendum vote at the next Council meeting.  Given how Xaviar's side is
clearly not a majority one, it improves the chances of success for
continuing to Earth if the people vote sooner than later."
     And then, she added pointedly, "And if you do this, then whatever
passed between us in my bedroom will stay there......permanently."
     The smirk was gone now.  Replaced by the hardened expression of a
naval officer who had to make a tough tactical decision and now.
     "All right," he said quietly.  "I'll submit my directive to Adama
tomorrow.  I'm sure he'll agree to it?"
     "He will," she nodded and then added.  "In fact, taking me out of
the equation, even you would agree it's a good idea for its own sake,
wouldn't you, Kevin?"
     "I would," he admitted.  "And I'll even admit I should have thought
of it sooner."
     The insincere smile returned.  "You're a bright boy, Kevin.  There
is hope for you, yet."
     He no longer had the stomach for any retorts or comebacks.  He just
wanted this spectacle over and done with.  "Is that all?"
     "That's all," she said simply, "Good day.....Commander."
     And with a haughty flourish she turned her back to him and left his
office. 
     To think I actually had an affair with her, Byrne thought.  How
could I have misread someone like her so much?  Was I *that* lonely after
all those years of just me and Jen waiting for a miracle to be rescued?
He knew he couldn't deny he'd been captivated by her.  Taking Lydia at
face
value, there was much to be charmed by.  He couldn't deny Lydia had
beauty, intelligence and charm going for her when she knew how to apply
it.  Even now, he had to admit that despite all the hatred she evoked
within him, she was still capable of stirring arousal in him as well.
     Maybe that's the tragedy of it all when it comes to her, he thought. 
Lydia has enough going for her that she doesn't *have* to be so ruthless
and cruel to get ahead.  She could have gone a long ways using her charm
and intelligence and being honest.
     He let out a sigh of deflation and decided he needed to go over the
roster of crew who'd be selected for this assignment of temporary duty on
the Galactica.


     Lydia felt a confident stride in her step as she returned to her
shuttle.  She didn't care at all that those who took notice of her were
likely harboring negative thoughts that Byrne had encouraged over the
last few sectars.  As far as she was concerned, she'd finally landed a
blow on the man who'd betrayed her by forcing him to unwittingly do her
bidding that would allow her larger plot to be set into motion.
     And when it comes off, they won't be able to hang this on me like
they did with the work release program after the Charka fiasco.  It'll
all be around Kevin's neck as a sign of how he encouraged this sentiment
.  That's the beauty of it all.  He'll be humiliated.
     The one variable she had no control over was when Airman Brandon
Reynolds would be assigned to this temporary service.  Her insistence 
these be short periods of no more than a sectan,  and that they rotate
among the Earth crewmen only, was her way of insuring that at some point,
Reynolds *had* to be assigned, but without her directly manipulating
events to force the timing of his assignment.
     At least I can afford to wait a few sectans if that's necessary. 
All I have to do is make sure the Referendum vote takes place at least
four to five sectans from now and not in the next two or three.  Setting
a date and not making it too soon will seem like the perfect 'compromise'
measure and make me look like a statesman.  If Reynolds hasn't been
assigned before the vote happens......then I'll make another move to
ensure he does get assigned.
     She settled into her shuttle and then said to Jarvik, "Back to the
Rising Star, Jarvik."
     There was no immediate answer from her pilot.
     "Jarvik?" she leaned forward.
     "Sorry, Siress," he jumped slightly in his seat and then began
activating the switches to maneuver the craft into launch position.
     As the shuttle left the Constellation, Lydia was beginning to think
that perhaps it was time to give her pilot some long overdue indulgence.
     He needs to remember what all the fringe benefits have been all
these yahrens.  Especially now when I need him more than I've ever needed
him before.


     "You and I need to have a talk, Xaviar," Sire Pelias said as they
met in a corner of the Empyreal Lounge on the Rising Star.  "I want to
avoid as much shouting between us at the next Council meeting."
     "What's there to shout about, Pelias?" his fellow Council member
looked at him dubiously.  "Do you have a problem listening to a point of
view other than your own?"
     "You're carrying this much too far," the late Sire Feo's nephew
said.  "Especially if you start to lean more on Lydia for advancing your
point of view."
     "Lydia does not control me," he said curtly.  "The nature of our
alliance is a case where she agrees with me, not me agreeing with her."
     "And she won't settle for that long-term," Pelias said.  "She's
agreeing with you because she sees it as her last best hope to emerge on
top."
     "How?" he retorted, "As Council President?  I think you're seriously
overestimating her ambitions.  At any rate, she's not the issue on this. 
This is about respecting a point of view a lot of people feel strongly
about."
     "But it's not a majority sentiment, Xaviar, and you *know* that. 
That's why you've hesitated on calling for a Referendum.  You know if we
had one in the near-term it would fail."
     "And that of course is why you'll call the question at the next
meeting and demand we set a date."
     "We can't put it off forever, Xaviar."
     "I'll concede that.  I'm prepared to deal with the inevitability of
approving a Referendum date, but I'll likely have something to say on how
many sectans from now it will be.  If we are going to have an important
vote for the whole population to take part in, then both sides need time
to make their case as thoroughly as possible."
     "Which of course means more talking to the IFB by you."
     "Of course," Xaviar said, "And I'll keep talking on the IFB with
paid broadcasts from my own personal fortune if it'll sway more people to
come round and realize our hope lies with *our* people, and not an alien
culture on Earth."
     "Is that what the people of Earth are to you, now, Xaviar?" Pelias
shook his head in amazement, "Aliens?  After all they went through at
Ne'Chak and what people like Lauren and Jessica went through?  After all
the support *you* gave them and even shaking their hands at the Welcome
Aboard dinner?"
     "Too much has happened since that I can't ignore, Pelias.  And
neither can a lot of other people."
     Pelias brought his hands together and decided it was time to do some
probing, "Is there....someone you know back in the Colonies that you now
think could be alive?"
     Xaviar's expression darkened with  anger, "First off, Pelias, if
there is, that's none of your business.  Second, my reasons for going
back have nothing to do with any individual personal consideration for
myself, and everything to do with our sense of honor as a people."
     "And going back on our word to the Earth people is part of upholding
our honor?"
     "We already had this conversation at the last meeting," Xaviar
retorted.  "If we turn back, they don't have to come with us.  They can
proceed to Earth and reach it in as much time as it would take us to
reach the Colonies and hook up with the Pegasus."
     "Sixty people, of whom only one-third can be classified as warriors,
and from that group only two have training in deep space flight.  You
honestly think a group of that size can make it all by themselves the
rest of the way to Earth?"
     "I already told you, if there are volunteers in our ranks to fill
out the crew needed for the Constellation and the Adelaide, I won't
object to that," Xaviar said.  "I'm only drawing the line at letting more
ships go with them and break this Fleet apart."
     "I see," Pelias's tone grew more dubious, "So your idea of a
compassionate solution to the Earthers is to let them proceed the rest of
the way with no fuel reserves because we take them all for ourselves. 
And no food reserves because the Agro-Ship and the Livestock Ship go back
with us.  They way you're presenting it to them, they'd have to be mad to
want to try and brave it themselves the rest of the way."
     "That would be their choice," Xaviar was unfazed.  "I'm happy to
work out solutions that would let those two ships, *fully* manned, be
able to travel with the resources they need on their journey.  That would
be in keeping with all the other acts of charity and deference we've
given them and what we did for the people of Liberty not too long ago. 
But one thing I am *not* going to sit idly by for, Pelias, is to let the
needs of at most, 70 people dictate the fates of 70,000 of us!"
     "Why don't we put the shoe on the other foot, Xaviar?"  Pelias
decided he needed to change the subject in order to regain the
initiative.  "Suppose we decided we're continuing to Earth but those of
you who are so anxious to "turn back" are free to do so.  Would you be
willing to lead the people who wanted to go and take on that burden in
two ships the size of the Constellation and the Adelaide?"
     "Don't ask me a question rooted in a fantasy," Xaviar waved his hand
dismisssively.  "Let's stick to matters grounded in reality."
     "Seems perfectly legitimate, Xaviar," Pelias held his ground.  "If
you're prepared to break up this Fleet by having us turn back but letting
others who want to go to Earth go to Earth----,"
     "I'll say this again, Pelias," Xaviar cut in, "That only applies to
the *Earth* people, and a limited number of volunteers with an emotional
investment in the Earth people specifically.  This is not about letting
ten or twenty thousand in our ranks decide to do one thing while the rest
does the other."
     "Any why not?" Pelias shot back, "Since that would be the only
practical solution if it came to that."
     His fellow Councillor leaned forward and with hands folded on the
table spoke in the hardest, firmest tone imaginable.
     "Because the choice of destination for us as *Colonials* is and
should be a binding one for *all* of us, whether it be Earth or the
Colonies.  That is how we've operated from the beginning of this journey. 
We signed up and accepted Adama's leadership and the direction Adama has
provided us with and which the Council now has a say in.  Adama has
allowed no dissident factions to break off from our journey because the
journey is supposed to be a binding contract for us all.  And that's how
it should continue."
     Pelias shook his head, "Not all contracts are permanent, Xaviar. 
Times change.  Circumstances change.  Revision of old contracts to suit
the new order of things has been going on since the beginning of time."
     "Not for something like this, Pelias," Xaviar was unyielding, "I'm
not going to answer your question because you're describing a scenario
that isn't going to happen.  We as a people are staying together and
living by the decision arrived at by our system of governance.  I'm
prepared to accept the will of the majority if it comes to that, and I am
*not* going to lead any renegade factions should my side fail.  But at
the same time I am *not* going to keep my mouth shut about what I believe
in and what I think we as a people should do."
     For a just a micron, Pelias felt a strange sense of admiration for
Xaviar.  There was no question of the man's sincerity and honesty.  On
that score, he was definitely no Lydia or Antipas.  But for now, he had
to keep a firm line of opposition to him and show no weakness.
     "I think everyone gets the gist about where you stand, Xaviar," he
finally said.  "You don't need to give an interview every day to Zara to
emphasize it."
     "If you think I talk too much, Pelias, you might as well introduce a
resolution slapping a gag order on me," Xaviar held his ground.  "Are you
prepared to do that?"
     And make a martyr out of you?  Pelias thought to himself.  "No,
Xaviar.  No one wants to do that.  But showing some restraint at this
point would be advisable."
     "When each new cycle keeps taking us in the wrong direction from a
fight we should be part of, then it's up to me to try and use the means
available to all of us as free men to convince the people on a new course
of action," he paused, "Do you have a problem with that, Pelias?"
     "Of course not," his fellow Councillor tried not to sound
exasperated.  "I'm only saying  there are times when patriotism and the
overall good of our people requires us to know when it's time to accept
things as they are and to hold our tongues and move on."
     "When I think we're at that point, I'll heed your advice," Xaviar
said, "We're not there yet, Pelias.  So I suggest we take this up again
at the next formal session."
     "Then I guess we're done then," Pelias felt sorry no headway could
be made, "Good day, Xaviar."
     The Councillor stopped to respectfully shake his fellow member's
hand and then turned and left the Lounge.


     Any thoughts Lydia might have had of putting Jarvik's mind at ease
with some sexual indulgence were put aside when she got a call from
Xaviar about wanting to see her.  At this point, Lydia wasn't about to
turn him down since it was important to let him know she was still on his
side.....to a point.
     So that evening she found herself indulging Xaviar.....and hearing
him declare he was ready to proceed with a new Council proposal.
     "I've changed my mind," he said after they finished making love.
     "Oh?" she inquired innocently, "About what?"
     "I won't stand in the way of approving a  Referendum Resolution at
the next meeting," he said.  "I know there's still a ways to go for  a
majority to agree with us, but postponing it wouldn't make me or my side
look good.."
     Lydia's expression betrayed no emotion, "How long from now until the
Referendum takes place?"
     "Well.....it can't be less than four sectans, I would imagine.  We
have to give it the same amount of time we'd give the people to elect new
Council members."
     "That may not be enough time," Lydia said gently.  "I'd recommend no
less than six and if that seems unreasonable to Adama and Tinia, we could
compromise at five and end any impasse."
     He pondered that for a micron and nodded, "Sound thinking.  We'll
hold out for no less than five and then once it's been approved.....we
start organizing more people who think the same way and get them to
campaign elsewhere in the Fleet.  Especially with those who may not have
full access to the IFB."
     "I'm glad you no longer think you can do it alone with your personal
charm," Lydia said approvingly as she lightly caressed his bare chest. 
"After all.....you're making it clear that you're not trying to usurp
leadership from Adama......aren't you?"
     Xaviar looked down at her, "I don't want the Presidency, Lydia.  I
simply want us to do what's right and then let the experts lead us home."
     "But what if you win......and Adama isn't willing?" Lydia decided it
was time to test him further.  "Would you be willing to serve as the
people's voice.....and do what's necessary?"
     Xaviar sighed, "I can't imagine Adama would do that."
     "The power of command and leadership is hard for anyone to let go
of," she kept caressing his chest.  "And given how....obsessed Adama has
been with finding Earth from the beginning, he might find it hard to let
go of even if a majority of the people opposed him."
     The young Councillor was silent, his eyes now facing away from her.
     "I've seen that obsession in him from the beginning, long before you
were elected to the Council," she went on.  "That's why I know that to
defeat a man who is a prime candidate for developing a dictatorial
complex......it may become necessary to resort to less than pure methods
for the greater good."
     The sound of a disapproving grunt came from Xaviar but he remained
silent.
     "Don't think less of me because I'm telling you this, Xaviar," her
voice grew more gentle.  "I'm only speaking the truth.  And if you deny
it......you will not win."
     "So be it," he said with defiance.  "If I lose.....I will lose with
honor."
     What a fool, Lydia thought to herself.  Obsessing over honor is why
we lost the war in the first place.  No wonder he needs me to give him a
kick in the astrum to get him to act the way he *should* act.
     She said nothing more and enticed him into a further session of
lovemaking which he was more than happy to respond to.  


     When Apollo entered his father's quarters, he saw Adama seated
behind his desk with his hand under his chin, staring idly off into
space.  The lights of the room were at a lower than normal setting which
meant he wasn't reading anything.  He was just.....contemplating.
     "Father?"
     Adama looked up at him, "Oh.....hello, Apollo.  You have something
to report?"
     "Colonel Tigh wanted me to let you know our patrol sweeps for today
report all clear."
     He cracked a faint smile, "That's the kind of message Tigh usually
sends me over a com-line, so I have to assume you agreed to do that for
him as an excuse to see me about something else."
     "Well nothing specific, Father, I just.....get the feeling this
whole business with Xaviar is wearing you down a bit."
     Adama leaned back in his chair, "In a way it is, Apollo.  The more I
have to listen to the case for turning back, the more it.......has a way
of highlighting other things that don't and shouldn't factor into the
decision.  But.....you can't help but think about them, just the same."
     Right away, Apollo knew what his father was talking about. 
"About.....Mother?"
     "Yes," he sighed and closed his eyes, "Oh Lords.....how I wish she
could be with us.  It's such a blessed miracle to talk to her and know
she's alive, but.....if only she were here again."
     Apollo wondered if his father was going to cry but Adama managed to
catch himself.  He opened his eyes and looked up at his son with a
thoughtful air.
     "Do you feel the same way, Apollo?"
     "Yes," Apollo said simply.  "I'm happy she's alive, but in a strange
way I miss her more now than when I thought she was dead.  I know why she
made her decision, but....a part of me still keeps praying she'll one day
change her mind and use that shuttle to get back to us."
     "I don't want you to betray anything personal between you and her,
Son, but.....do you ask her about that in your messages to her?"
     "No," Apollo shook his head, "I don't want to upset her at this
point, Father.  I know how hard it was for her to make her decision to
stay.  It'd be wrong to add to her burden now."
     Adama nodded, "I know what you mean, Apollo.  It's......the same
with me.  And.....it's harder to avoid saying any of that to her,
especially now that......" he trailed off.
     "Now that what, Father?"
     He gazed downward again to avoid eye contact with his son, "Now
that......Cain has a new girlfriend he plans to marry someday, it almost
makes.....your mother's role with him as confidant less important than
it's been.  Of course I know what she's done is more important than being
his confidant, but......still......knowing that Cain's no longer as
isolated as he used to be, you can't help but think......." he trailed
off and shook his head again.
     "I can't ever ask her if she thinks Cain doesn't need her as much
now, just as you can't, Apollo," his voice picked up with firmness. 
"Because one thing we can't dare let her think is that we're not at peace
with her decision.  She needs to believe we've moved past the hurt of
being permanently separated because if we do otherwise.....it's just
going to make things worse for her.  And with all the other things she's
doing for Cain and for the Resistance, we can't let that be on her
conscience."
     "You're right," Apollo nodded. "I guess.....of the three of us,
Athena's had the easiest time accepting it."
     "Yes," Adama acknowledged, "Because Athena just needed to know her
mother was alive and able to talk to her.  That.....chased all the
darkness of the Destruction out of her life and....brought the sunshine
back," he then chuckled lightly, "Ila's little Sunshine.  It's so good to
see that side of Athena again."
     His expression abruptly changed and suddenly the father and the
husband was gone.  Replaced by the Commander who was responsible for
70,000 lives and couldn't think of himself first, ever.
     "There is one other thing about this whole matter that
is.....curious.  About a centar ago, Commander Byrne sent me a message to
the effect that in the interests of fostering greater Earth-Colonial
harmony and steps toward greater.....assimilation, he's going to rotate
members of the Constellation and Adelaide crew to serve one sectan work
duties aboard the Galactica......if the Council and I are amenable to
it."
     "What's curious about that?" Apollo frowned.  "I've gotten the sense
Byrne's been more anxious to step things up on that front.  Especially
since he agreed to the new uniform policy."
     "He told me Lydia put him up to this idea of implementing rotation
duty periods.  Basically a warning that a sincere commitment to showing
more assimilation might defuse some of Xaviar's arguments about
deference.
     "That doesn't make sense," Apollo was puzzled, "Why would Lydia try
to help Byrne with anything after their relationship ended so badly? 
Hasn't she been in Xaviar's corner all this time on the whole Turn Back
issue?"
     "That's exactly what concerns me.  Coming from Lydia, there has to
be some ulterior motive.  And in light of what we know, but can't reveal
about Lydia's role in the Charka affair, a suggestion by Lydia could mean
the opening act to something......very serious."
     "So what are you going to do?"
     Adama shrugged, "What can I do, Apollo?  Just because the prompt
came from Lydia doesn't mean the idea isn't a good one.  If anything, I
should have suggested it to Byrne when I had him here the other day. 
So......I'll be giving my approval to it, and hoping that if the members
of the Constellation crew make a good impression doing detached duty on
the Galactica, one sectan at a time, it will blunt Xaviar's ability to
gain more support for his cause," he then added, "And I'll be able to
sleep easier about all things concerning.....your mother."
     "I understand, Father," Apollo nodded.  "If we are going to have
Constellation crew rotating on and off the Galactica, I'll need their
names and have to make preparations."
     "He's already sent me the names of the first four who'll arrive
tomorrow," Adama handed a sheet of paper to his son.  "You might as well
get started."
     "I will," Apollo took it, "Good night, Father."
     "Good night, Son."
     Apollo left his father's quarters with his nose buried in the list. 
By the time he stepped out into the corridor, he had the four names
already committed to memory.
     Forrest, Reynolds, Shamir, Sanderson.  Three enlisted men, one woman
officer. 


     It had been another restless evening for Jarvik.  Lydia hadn't given
him any more instructions after he'd brought her back to the Rising Star,
and he felt too restless to just lie in his quarters, so he'd tried to
kill time by walking the corridors of the Elite Class shops and kiosks. 
Avoiding either the noise of the Astral Lounge or the subdued quiet of
the Empyreal Lounge because he didn't think strong drink would help at
this stage.
     Glimpses into the upscale kiosks with their reminders that the
well-off could still afford to indulge themselves gave him a  reminder of
why he'd been so quick to abandon the mundane life he'd known before
Lydia recruited him.  The opportunity to be part of a world that was
forever out of his reach as a mere commercial transport pilot.
     But have I ever really been a part of it?  I'm just a glorified
servant.  Servants don't really experience the good life.  Why has it
taken me all these yahrens to finally realize that?
     But he knew that was a weak rationalization on his part.  He
couldn't deny that up until the Destruction, he'd enjoyed his life as
Lydia's pilot and occasional lover.  There'd never been any regrets.  His
status had paid its greatest dividend with the Destruction in that it
kept him from being packed into a freighter with the masses of humanity
who had no Elite connections to let them gain access to the world of the
Rising Star in some way.
     He saw that the "Rogelio's Gourmet Java" kiosk was open and decided
his system could handle java if not alcohol.  He went in and ordered a
cup.  The attractive woman behind the counter who he remembered was named
Mairwen was engaged in conversation with a middle-aged woman in formal
clothing, but her back was to Jarvik.
     "I'm telling you, I *never* thought  Starbuck would finally settle
down!" the middle-aged woman was saying.  "I always figured he had too
many old girlfriends who wouldn't let him."
     Right away, Jarvik realized the woman was Siress Belloby, the owner
of the kiosk.  And he wished he hadn't come in since he was sure she knew
him by sight given her own dealings with Lydia.
     "Well he certainly had *one* admirer who wasn't willing to let go of
him," Mairwen said with half-mirth as she prepared the order Jarvik had
requested.  "You heard about that maintenance worker who'd been stalking
him all those yahrens and then tried to kill him just before the
ceremony?"
     "Yes" Belloby nodded as she sipped her own mug of java, "That was
tragic.  But I wasn't thinking about someone like that."  she then
cautiously eyed her, "Were you ever interested in him, Mairwen?"
     She let out a sigh as she finished filling the mug and handed it to
Jarvik, who took it with just a nod of the head.  He was hoping he could
finish it before Belloby had a chance to recognize him.
     "There was a time I *thought* I could be interested in him.  When he
was so kind to Cassy and then went out of his way to help us during that
time on the Spica, and later on when the whole Il Fadim thing with Sherok
broke out.  I found out later he and Cassiopeia were going through a
rough spot at the time because she hadn't told him the truth about his
father, though that wasn't her fault," she then shook her head,   "But I
wasn't going to make the first move.  I'd only started to get over my
husband's death in the Destruction and I just wasn't emotionally ready to
look for a new man in my life.  Not when.....things were getting stable
thanks to Starbuck's help and......your kindness in setting things up for
me here with the kiosk."
     "I'm glad I could help," Belloby said, "Starbuck's recommendation of
you turned out to be the best advice I ever heard from him.  What you've
done with this place has been the soundest investment I ever made."
     "Thank you," Mairwen said with gratitude, "I'll always owe a lot to
you and Starbuck.  And.....I think that's reward enough for me.  I never
needed  him as more than just a good friend.  Which he'll always be."
     As Jarvik continued to drink his java in unobserved silence, he
marveled at the contrast between Belloby and Lydia.  Belloby had a
reputation for being loud, garish and occasionally someone who could make
a public spectacle of herself.  Unlike Lydia, her initial success in the
Colonial business world had come less from her own efforts and more from
the wealth she'd inherited through her late husband, Sire Quincy.  But
once she found she had wealth she could control, she'd proved adept at
managing it herself.  And there was no denying that for all her
superficial quirks that could be irritating, Belloby didn't possess a
corrupt instinct in her.
     The conversation between Belloby and Mairwen soon shifted to the
Pegasus and how Mairwen's brother, Ensign Tegran, had sent her another
message recently about how they'd succeeded in getting the Cylon garrison
at Gomorrah to surrender without firing a shot.  It made Jarvik think
about his father, Dr. Laughlin, and what he was going through now.  And
it made Jarvik wonder what he could possibly say to his father if he ever
found the nerve or the strength to respond to his message.
     He finished his java and dropped a five cubit piece on the table. 
The sound of it clinking finally caused Belloby to look in his direction
for the first time.
     "Say, I *know* you, don't I?"
     Damn, he thought.  "Probably, I ah----"
     "Of course!" Belloby said in recognition, "Lydia's pilot!  I
remember you now.  I couldn't help but think how lucky she is to have
someone like you!  Why I remember thinking that if I had a pilot who
looked as handsome and vigorous as you, I *never* would have wasted time
on someone as loathsome as Antipas was the way she did!"
     Oh boy.
     "So tell me, just what *is* that scheming Lydia up to, now?  With
her, I always knew there had to be an angle to anything she ever did in
her life."
     "I ah.....I'm just her pilot, Siress Belloby," he managed to force
his words out.  "And when I fly her around, I lose my powers of hearing."
     "Yes, I guess you have to keep her secrets close to the vest," she
said with almost maternal sympathy.  "If you ever wanted a better paying
job as a pilot, I *think* I could find room for an extra one!"
     "Ah......that's kind of you, Siress Belloby, but......I have to be
going now."  He slipped himself off the stool and hoped his face wasn't
turning four shades of red.
     "The job's always open!" she called after him as he made his exit
from the kiosk.  Once he was outside in the Elite Class corridors, he
rapidly picked up his walking pace and went back to his quarters as fast
as he could go.  Where another sleepless night awaited him as he kept
pondering what Lydia's next order to him was going to be.

Chapter Six

     Why in God's name do I have to be wearing one of these things?
     Not for the first time did that thought go through Brandon Reynolds'
head since he'd gotten the order yesterday to report to Commander Byrne
at 0800 wearing Colonial Battle Dress.  Even though all Earth military
personnel had been issued Colonial uniforms when the Council enacted its
new policy, Reynolds was sure he'd never have to put his on.  On the
Constellation or the Adelaide it wasn't required.  Nor was it required
when an Earther was off-duty or on furlon and traveling to any other ship
in the Fleet.  And the rule left in place the special uniforms that had
been created for the Boarding and Landing Party, which Reynolds was part
of.  It was impossible for him to imagine any situation where it would
become necessary, and given his rising bitterness of the last few
sectans, that suited him just fine.
     But now, he stood at attention in front of Byrne, along with three
others who were also in Colonial Battle Dress for the first time. 
Corporal Michael Forrest of the Australian Army, and normally attached to
the Adelaide under the command of Cedric Allen.  Sergeant Goria Shamir of
the Israeli Army.  And at the end of the line, the lone officer summoned,
Lieutenant Amy Sanderson of the U.S. Marine Corps.  Reynolds couldn't
tell if any of them felt just as uncomfortable, or just as resentful as
he did.  He could only keep his eyes in front of him and listen to Byrne,
who was also wearing Colonial attire.  
     "Thank you for coming," the naval commander began.  "As you no doubt
realized when you were told to report in Colonial battle dress, the four
of you are going to be serving off the Constellation and Adelaide for the
next week.  Under the terms of the Council uniform policy that was
enacted several weeks ago, this mandates wearing Colonial Battle Dress
with your special collar pin that identifies you as an Earth native.  At
the end of this meeting, you will report to Sergeant Wagner to exchange
your normal sidearms for standard Colonial laser pistols and then report
to a shuttle that will take you to the Galactica.  For the next week, you
will bunk with the warriors on the Galactica until your detached service
ends."
     Byrne paused so he could take in the reactions of the four. 
Sergeant Shamir seemed the least affected of the group.  The other three
ranged from the slightly puzzled of Lieutenant Sanderson to the more
annoyed ones of Corporal Forrest and Airman Reynolds.  But the American's
reaction was clearly the most irritated one.
     "Sir," Amy Sanderson asked, "If I may ask.....what's the reason for
this assignment?"
     "You're the first four in a new policy of rotating all Earth
military personnel to put in at least one week of service time aboard the
Galactica and operate entirely within the Colonial infrastructure," Byrne
said simply.  A night of sleep had convinced him that even if the idea
had come from Lydia, it had merit.  And he was going to let Adama know he
cared about the chain of command by pushing the order with nothing less
than absolute conviction.  "Over the next two months, everyone will get
their time aboard the Galactica.  And I don't think I have to tell any of
you that during this critical period when there are some people in the
Fleet looking at us, and wondering if we've become some kind of
separatist clique getting special perks and privileges because we're from
Earth......anything we can do to dispel that falsehood will go a long
way."
     "Sir," Corporal Forrest spoke up, "Is it necessary for us to bunk on
the Galactica? Couldn't we just return to our own ship at the end of the
work period?"
     The Captain of the Constellation abruptly cut him off.  He knew
Forrest was soon to be married to the mother of his two small children
and no doubt resented being absent from his family for any length of
time.  He was also aware the Australian had only been recently
reactivated since he'd been abducted by the Risik while performing his
civilian job as a Fish and Game inspector, and wasn't fully reintegrated
into a military lifestyle.  But as far as Byrne was concerned, none of
that mattered.
     "Mr. Forrest, I don't care whether you think it's necessary or not,
you're going to *do* it, because I have given you an order to do it.  And
that goes for the rest of you!  Do I have to go any further?"
     There was no response from anyone except ram-rod postures to
indicate that a silent but understandable, "No, sir!" was coming from all
of them.
     "Very well," Byrne relaxed.  "Here are your designated assignments
aboard the Galactica.  Since none of you are pilots, the three enlisted
men will report to Lieutenant Castor of Colonial Security for work
detail.  All of you know Castor from his work in Elite Squadron, so you
shouldn't have any trouble working for him in his regular job. 
Sanderson, as the only officer assigned for this tour, you'll report to
Captain Boomer of Red Squadron for introduction into Colonial shuttle
flight training."
     She frowned, "Sir?"
     "I can't have Colonial personnel on the Constellation be the only
trained shuttle pilots we have at hand," Byrne said, "Suppose Ensign
Adele flies your team into a mission and gets injured or incapacitated? 
It's time we neutralize that potential weakness in the Boarding Team by
having the commander trained to fly everyone out in an emergency     I
was going to assign you to this in the near-term, but this rotation
assignment lets us kill two birds with one stone."
     "It could take more than a week, sir, for me to become shuttle
trained."
     "In which case, your tour will be extended until you're certified to
fly," Byrne didn't miss a beat, "There aren't going to be any loose ends
with this assignment, Lieutenant.  I want to see commitment.  And above
all, I want you all to feel as much pride wearing the uniforms of the
people you are part of now, as you do wearing the uniforms of your
countries on Earth.  Until we reach Earth, we are officially part of the
Colonial Service and the more we show signs of appreciating that, the
better it is for Fleet morale."
     He looked them over one last time.  He felt satisfied they'd gotten
the message and he had enough confidence in them that they would perform
to expectations.
     "Dismissed."
     They all turned to their right and filed out in an orderly fashion. 
For Shamir, it was something to look forward to as a welcome change of
pace from his usual duties.  For Amy Sanderson, there was a sense of
reluctant resignation..  For Forrest, there was the sense of being
inconvenienced at a time when he wanted to be close to his children and
soon-to-be wife.
     The harshest internal thoughts were those of Airman Reynolds, who
wished he could be in front of the punching bag in the Rec Hall and
unleashing a torrent of frustrated blows.


     "I'm kind of worried," Amy said as she stopped by the Armory to turn
in her SiG-Sauer P226 to Lauren, who as Master-At-Arms would place it
under lock and key.  
     "Hey it won't be so bad," Lauren said, "It's just for a week.  If
this applies to all of us,  that means I'll have to put in my time in
another week or two." 
     "Yeah, but at least you'll get the benefit of more time with Castor
when that happens."
     "Oh, that reminds me," Lauren then grinned slyly, "Don't get any
ideas with him, and try not to look too cute in that Colonial battlesuit. 
To him, at least.  I'll admit, I'll be interested in his reaction to how
I'll look in one."
     "He just might get you to stay over there."
     The grin faded from Lauren as she took Amy's firearm and placed it
in the storage locker.
     "No, he won't," she said, "Temp duty to get a few more nights out
with him would suit me just fine.  Long-term commitment.....I'm not going
to think about that until after we reach Earth."
     "If we still make it," Amy sighed, as she picked up the Colonial
laser pistol that had been laid out and holstered it,  "The way that
Xaviar talks, maybe we won't be the ones going home."
     "I don't think it's going to come to that," Lauren said simply as
she closed the locker.  "Have fun, Amy."
     "I'll try to," she gave her friend a wave and then was gone.


     The four Earth natives gathered a minimal amount of personal gear to
take to the Galactica and then boarded the shuttle Armstrong, with Ensign
Adele at the controls to take them to the Battlestar.  Most of them tried
to pass the time with idle small talk about how they should get together
after duty hours in the Officers Club where they could count on the
Protean, Freeman to serve them a tall glass of Colonial Ale or one of the
other drinks they'd developed a taste for since arriving in the Fleet.
     Airman Reynolds though wasn't in a talkative mood.  Throughout the
journey, his resentment over the assignment was only increasing.  There
was no question in his mind that being forced to become something he
wasn't, a Colonial Warrior, for even just a week, was asking too much at
this stage.  He appreciated the fact the community on the Constellation
allowed a sense of Earth identity to be maintained that allowed him to
adjust to his surroundings.  But now, with this happening in the face of
all the news he'd seen on the IFB in Sire Xaviar's speeches and
interviews, and all the talk about the mood in the Fleet about wanting to
"Turn Back", it was reopening scars he'd thought left behind forever at
Ne'Chak.
     "Hey Reynolds."
     He looked over and saw Corporal Forrest trying to get his attention.
     "Oh...." he straightened himself, "Hi, Forrest."
     "You look like a guy who's on his way to a firing squad."
     "Almost feels like the beginning of it," he leaned his head back,
eyes gazing upward, "Why does Byrne have to kowtow to that bastard,
Xaviar?  That's the only reason he's having us do this."
     "I don't like it either," Forrest admitted, "Catherine and I were
ready to set a wedding date.  We were going to see Father Fisher about it
before I got the call from Commander Allen that I had to report to the
Constellation in Colonial uniform.  This is going to foul those plans up
for awhile."
     There was no response from the airman so the Australian decided to
press on, "But.....all things considered, I guess it's not too bad. 
We've waited this long to make it official, so what's another week."
     There was still no response from Reynolds who was staring straight
ahead.  Forrest waved his hand in front of him, which caused the airman
to jerk his head and go, "What?"
     "You're really taking this hard, aren't you?" Forrest was deeply
concerned now.  "It's just for a week.  We'll be back to normal soon
enough."
     "None of us will be back to normal until we're back on Earth,"
Reynolds said.  "And maybe that's not going to happen."
     "Oh come on," this was too much for the Australian.  "Who says we're
not going home?  Commander Adama's on our side.  As long as he thinks we
need to keep going home, we will."
     "Forrest, you're sounding naive," Reynolds shook his head, "Haven't
you seen all those speeches that putz Xaviar's making every day?  Haven't
you heard all the people think he's got the right idea?"
     "Yes, I've heard them," Forrest said simply.  "And if you want my
honest opinion, Reynolds, you're being paranoid.  Most Colonials I know
don't have the stomach for going back at this point."
     "But if they had their druthers, they'd *want* to go back."
     "Maybe.  Can you blame them for that?" the Australian was thinking
of a conversation he'd had with Dr. Rena when he and Catherine had
brought their babies in for a check at the Child Care Center.  She'd
acknowledged that she was torn on the subject of turning back because she
had reason to believe there were family members of hers still alive in
the Colonies.  But in order to perform her duties, she had to adopt a
clinical view of the situation which meant recognizing why going back
wasn't the right solution.
     When he heard no response from Reynolds, he decided he had to press
him again.  "Reynolds, can't you see *why* there are going to be
Colonials who feel that way?  Do you have any idea what *they* went
through and lost?"
     "Forrest, maybe after all this time, I'm tired of looking at things
from someone else's perspective," the airman said as he looked away from
him, "If Adama's on our side, then why doesn't he go on the IFB as much
as that asshole does?  And if he won't, why doesn't he tell the bastard
to shut up?"
     "Major Croft's been making the rounds," Forrest felt his patience
with the airman rapidly disappearing.  "I've seen him give a couple
interviews ever since the FIU report came out."
     "Compared to Xaviar, Croft has all the personality of a dead
raccoon," he shook his head without looking at the Australian.  "It's
slipping away from us, Forrest.  I can feel it."
     Forrest decided that the conversation wasn't going to get any better
as he quietly slipped away and left the airman to stew in his own
bitterness.


     A whole day went by and Jarvik heard nothing from Lydia.  He didn't
know whether to feel relieved or unnerved by that.  He wanted to believe
that all his work regarding that intelligence gathering on the
Constellation was done and that nothing further would come of it. 
Hearing nothing from her would be proof of that.  And yet......he just
couldn't believe that was the end of it.  And if there was something more
to it, he wanted to hear from her sooner than later.  It was only in the
late evening when finally, she telecommed  him and told him she needed to
see him.  He'd simply answered with an obedient, "Yes, Siress," and gone
over to her quarters.
     To his surprise, when he entered the room, she had chosen to greet
him dressed in the most revealing outfit she possessed.  One that he knew
she loved to wear whenever she felt like channeling the spirit of the
Aerian fertility goddess Zandra, whom she was devoted to.
     Oh good Lords of Kobol, she *does* have plans for me, he thought as
he felt the instincts of arousal and lust for her kick in as they had so
many times over the last eleven yahrens.  She wouldn't possibly pull all
the stops like this unless it was to soften me up.
     Whatever desire within him to assert himself and just walk away was
more than cancelled out by his other instincts that after eleven yahrens
were much too automatic by nature.  Lydia's charm as a desirable,
beautiful woman was too intoxicating for him to ignore or disregard.
     The next centar was nothing but sensory pleasure in its fullest. 
Reminding him why he would never be able to know satisfaction with any
other woman in his life even if he did walk away from Lydia.  The memory
of experiences such as this would always lead to unfavorable comparisons,
and unintentional hurt of anyone else who tried to love him.
     When it was over, Lydia spent ten centons whispering the sweetest of
compliments in his ear, emphasizing over and over how no matter who else
she had relationships with as matters of convenience, she always would
have a place for him.  Because she knew how dependable and devoted to her
he'd always been from the beginning.
     It was the same speech he'd heard before on many occasions.  The
speech that always acted as a firewall to insure his loyalty whenever his
exile from the bed chambers would take place.  A reminder that he had
enough of a good thing from where he was, and that if anything, he was
better off than any of the longer-term lovers she would take and
eventually discard when she felt her objectives had been fulfilled.
     Byrne was the only one she didn't get to throw over.  She still had
plans to use him that she never got a chance to implement.  And then she
went......nuts with that Charka scheme.  Is she still nuts?
     Hades, am *I* nuts?  Is my sanity gone at this point?
     "You've heard me tell you all this before, Jarvik," Lydia whispered
sweetly, "And you know how I always keep my word to you, don't I?"
     Hearing her end a sentence with a question, finally jolted him out
of his inner misery.  "Uh.....yes.  Of course, Siress."
     "Good," she rolled on top of him, which was always the norm for
whenever they made love.  Always her way of reminding him who the
dominant partner was.  "And you know that when I ask you to do
something.......it's because I trust you, and because you know I'll
always reward you for it."
     "Of course," he nodded, and tried not to sound like he was just
mumbling his words out.
     She gently touched his face, "Which is why I *need* you to do
something that will be the most important thing you will have *ever* done
in your eleven yahrens of service to me, Jarvik.  My future.....and
yours......rests entirely on your ability to prove my faith in you."
     He braced himself, "What is it you need to me to do?"
     She kissed him once and then her expression went from sweetness to
seriousness.
     "Tomorrow, Jarvik, you're flying me to the Galactica in advance of
the next Council meeting, which is the day after tomorrow.  I'm going to
be spending the night in VIP quarters and so are some other Council
members, including Xaviar."
     Lydia paused.
     "But before you fly me over to the Galactica, you're going to pay a
brief visit to a certain Dr. Colin for some temporary facial alteration."
     His eyes narrowed as if he hadn't heard her right.
     "Don't worry about your long-term appearance.  *After* you do what I
need you to do, you'll see Dr. Colin again and get your normal handsome
face back.  He's really quite the expert in his work.  Antipas swore by
him completely when he needed him in the past."
     "I......don't understand." he had no idea where this was going.
     Lydia rose from the bed and stood by him, giving the impression of
towering over him.  Combined with her incredible beauty and her stern
expression, it was as though she were channeling the instincts of a
powerful goddess about to give a command.
     "You're going to temporarily take the place of a Constellation
crewman who has just been assigned to a sectan of detached duty on the
Galactica," she said sternly.  "It's going to be up to you to lure him to
a place where he can be temporarily knocked out and left with no memory
of what happened to him while you also take his laser pistol.  The
important thing is to be set by 0900.  When I expect you to be in the
corridor outside the VIP quarters and when Xaviar and I will be leaving
together.  It won't matter whether or not he and I will have shared the
same room that night.  The important thing is for him to get a good look
at your temporary face and see you when you do what you must do next."
     Lydia took another pause and said dramatically.
     "You're going to take a shot at Xaviar."
     Jarvik's bewilderment deepened as he rose to a sitting position in
the bed.  "I'm going to.....kill him?"
     "*Not* to kill him," she said emphatically, "You're to take an
errant shot at him and then, you will make good your escape by first,
returning the laser to the unconscious man you have traded places with,
and then you will leave the Galactica in my shuttle and return
immediately to Dr. Colin.  Who will restore your normal appearance and
leave you quite above suspicion."
     My God, she has lost her mind, Jarvik thought.  But he couldn't dare
openly protest or challenge her.  He needed to keep calm.
     "Siress," he said, "If I take a shot at a Council member, the next
thing that's going to happen will be a full security lockdown of the
ship.  I couldn't possibly have enough time to get off the Galactica
safely without being discovered.  And if I still have the face of the man
you want  framed for this, I'm through."
     "That will be taken care of," Lydia said.  "Before you take the shot
at Xaviar, you'll be using *this* to disable the com-line system in that
part of the ship."
     She opened a drawer on the table next to the bed and took out a
device that looked like a stylus.  She idly tossed it to him.
     "I had this made for that......last bit of business I attempted that
went awry, but it was never used.," Lydia said.  "It generates an impulse
that immobilizes the circuitry of com-lines and other electronic devices
that run on the same principle.  The fool who made it for me thought it
was a device needed for personal maintenance and renovation work to
disable unneeded circuits, so that's why he gladly gave me his time
putting it together.  All you have to do is go to a circuitry relay
terminal which is located in the corridor on the opposite side of the
doors to the VIP quarters, and you'll have those com-lines disabled. 
That means it will take at least five to ten centons to get word to
someone that an assassination attempt has been made on Xaviar and me.
You're to use that time wisely, getting back to where you've hidden the
man who's going to be blamed for it, and get yourself off the Galactica
and back to Dr. Colin before the lockdown commences."
     "And I just have to hope I'm lucky that no one else is passing
through the corridor at that particular time?"
     "You keep forgetting how big a ship the Galactica is, Jarvik," Lydia
said.  "I've been aboard her enough times to know that part of the ship
isn't teeming with activity and especially not that early in the cycle. 
If I didn't have that variable already factored in, this wouldn't be
possible."
     "All right," he wanted his questions to sound probing and not those
of one who was defying her.  "Now what makes you think that when the real
person is found they won't just believe him when he says someone knocked
him out and he was never in the corridor taking a shot at you and Xaviar? 
Unless I'm supposed to kill him?"
     "Hardly," Lydia shook her head, "I wouldn't ask you to kill someone,
Jarvik.  Besides, if he were found in a hiding place dead, that would
only prove his innocence and they'd go looking for an imposter.  The
reason he's been chosen is because there's enough in his profile to make
it logical that taking a shot at Xaviar is something he *would* do."
     Suddenly it all fell into place for Jarvik, and to his horror he
realized what his intelligence work on the Constellation had been all
about.
     "Airman Reynolds," he said, not letting his face reveal what he was
thinking and feeling. Which was total revulsion that his zeal to get
Lydia off his back and give her results had now led to this.
     "Of course," Lydia smiled faintly as she moved back and forth in
front of him.  But her naked figure was no longer distracting him.  "Your
report said he was *quite* vocal in his dislike for Xaviar to the point
where his fellow crew mates were concerned for him.  And once I combined
your report with my access to his complete personnel file and debriefing,
that as Council Vice President I'm entitled to see, it added up to a
picture of a man most people would call......high-strung.  Overly
emotional at times.  And whose only purpose in life at this point is
getting back to Earth.  So naturally, someone like Xaviar.....and myself,
would represent potential obstacles to that need, and who must be dealt
with, if he wants to assure himself of getting home."
     "But what do you get out of this, Siress?" Jarvik tried to keep his
tone couched in that of one who was concerned for her.  And he had to
admit, he was concerned for her.  Concerned that she was throwing away so
much for what seemed so little.  Just as she had done in the Charka
incident.
     "What do I get out of it?" she seemed amused by the question.  "I
get to see Adama knocked off his perch once and for all, which has been
my goal from the beginning.  To find the right moment and the right
occasion for the people to question his leadership and let *me* be the
beneficiary.  In this case, Xaviar has provided the perfect vehicle with
the Turn Back movement and all I need is for that sentiment to prevail
and become the majority faction.  So, Adama's vision can be discredited
and the people will learn to trust new leadership!"
     She drew back closer to the bed and leaned down towards Jarvik with
the seductive smile that for the first time in all the yahrens he'd
worked for her, was now repelling to him.  
     "And when that new leadership is in place, Jarvik.....think how much
more you'll be prospering."
     "And Airman Reynolds?" Jarvik asked, "What happens to him?"
     Lydia shrugged, "Probably ten to twenty yahrens in the Prison Barge. 
Even if Xaviar were killed, they're not enforcing the Death Penalty any
longer, so he'll live.  He doesn't matter though.  You really shouldn't
think about him, Jarvik.  Airman Reynolds is but a speck of cosmic dust
in the bigger scheme of the universe as it's meant to be."
     She's insane, Jarvik thought.  Completely insane.
     "I appreciate your asking me these tough questions, Jarvik," the
Siress smiled again, "It lets me prove to you that no detail has gone
unnoticed by me and that I'd only implement a plan like this is if I were
sure it would work.  The last thing I did was far too complicated and for
a reason that wouldn't have resonated much with the people.  Plus, I
didn't trust myself to bring you into my confidence about it."
     I wish you had.  Then maybe I'd have found a way out then and not
be.....trapped.  Like I am now.
Trapped was the only word that could describe how Jarvik felt.  If he
tried to warn 
anyone in authority about Lydia's plot, she would deny everything and
there would be no evidence on hand to prove it.  If he revealed what he
knew about the Charka incident, she'd also deny it and challenge him for
proof beyond bedroom talk.  He'd been devoted to her for so many yahrens
that his credibility was almost non-existent on that point.
     But if he went through with it......he couldn't see how the plan
could possibly work.  Too many variables that Lydia hadn't considered
fully and expected him to take care of threatened the integrity of the
plan.  He couldn't think of how he'd be able to lure Airman Reynolds to a
spot where he could keep him on ice for the duration without attracting
attention.  Not to mention that even if there was no actual killing
involved, Lydia was asking him to destroy an innocent man's life forever.
     Dear God, please.  I'm sorry.  I'm sorry for every wrong thing I did
in my life.  I'm sorry for every wrong decision I made, especially
starting with going to work for her.  I can't take any of that back, but
please.......let me make it right.  Let me make it right.
     But there was no sudden burst of divine inspiration coming to him
now. 
     "You have a busy day tomorrow, Jarvik," Lydia sat on the edge of the
bed and put her arms around him.  "Let me relax you and get you rested
for the big day."
     Her pilot had no strength in him to resist as she lowered herself on
top of him and gave him more of the indulgences she'd willingly given him
and that he'd gladly taken over the years. 


     Jarvik's walk back to his quarters a centar later was like that of a
dead man walking.  He no longer felt like he belonged to the world of the
living.  At least the world where normal people went about their lives
with a sense of purpose and could be at peace with themselves.  Peace was
something that now seemed gone to him.  He was trapped in a situation
where there was simply no way out for him to emerge unscathed. 
Regardless of what he did, his life, with its sense of secure comfort
that had justified his decision to go work for Lydia in the first place
would truly end tomorrow.  It would end with him being arrested for
attempting to kill a Council member and framing someone else for it.  Or
it would end with him successfully framing the man and seeing an innocent
soul condemned to a life of prison.  And for no rational or meaningful
purpose that he could fathom except the warped dreams of power and ego
that now existed in the woman he had once been devoted to, and even in
his own misguided way loved in the way all good and faithful servants
loved their masters and mistresses.
     He knew Lydia hadn't always been this way.  Ambitious, yes.  Amoral,
yes.  But this mad lust for power only began when Antipas had recruited
her as an ally in what had been *his* drive for power against Adama. 
That was when Lydia first learned the art of the political game as
Antipas saw it.  And when the roles became reversed in the relationship
after Antipas's role in the Museum theft had been exposed, suddenly it
was Lydia learning all she'd been taught by Antipas and deciding to play
the game that way herself.  It had enabled her to outlast Antipas
completely when he went to the Prison Barge.  It had enabled her to force
Adama into making her Council Vice President at a critical moment when
the Detente was about to begin.  It had enabled her initially to recruit
Commander Byrne as a potential ally.  More ambitious.  More ruthless. 
But still carefully staying "within the law" to preserve her position and
standing.
     And then.....when she'd lost Byrne it marked the first time she'd
lost control of events.  Unable to dictate her terms how to shape things. 
Suddenly the lust for power became something she needed to satisfy
immediately and it didn't matter by what means she employed.  Where
suddenly, engaging in criminal behavior came as easy to her as it had for
Antipas.  Even to the point where like Antipas with his bodyguard, Kimo,
it didn't matter if people were killed in the process, as Master Chief
Varica nearly had been.  And like Airman Reynolds would be, for all
intents and purposes, if this plan came off as Lydia hoped it would.
     How could I ever live with myself if I let this happen?
     He needed to find the answer to that before morning.  
     
Chapter Seven

     For Zara, the chief co-anchor of the news and information service of
the Inter Fleet Broadacasting (IFB) service, the day began like it always
did for her.  A specially prepared breakfast that was always delivered to
her quarters on the Rising Star (a perk she had earned because of her
position, and which her co-anchor Zed also enjoyed) that she could eat in
private, and allow her to study the news stories that were planned for
that day.  Then after eating and dressing herself, she would take the
shuttle Canaris to the Electronics Ship to spend her long-day's work
preparing for the four centars of live broadcasting she would do, as well
as confer with Technical Operations Chief Heller on what stories they
were planning to do in the future.
     And along the way, she knew she'd have to endure what had become
routine for the last three yahrens.  The endless put-downs and asides
from people about her broadcasting skills and her journalistic
credentials.  The non-stop whispers that she was a sensationalist and an
opportunist who hadn't earned her way in the trenches practicing real
journalism.  That her pre-Destruction fame as a news anchor on Cancera
for the CCS (Canceran Communication Service) had only been due to her
having a pretty face and an ability to read prepared texts off a computer
monitor.
     For the first two yahrens, she'd taken much of it in stride.  She
knew some of it stemmed from the fact that her superior, Heller, had been
Serina's technical director on Caprica.  To this day, Heller still
carried scars within him that Serina had chosen to give up journalism
after the Destruction to become a warrior.  A decision that ultimately
cost Serina her life on Kobol
     Zara never had any illusions that she was in Serina's class as a
journalist.  She'd always been one of her greatest admirers back in the
day when the two of them competed for Colony awards in Journalism.  But
if she knew she wasn't in Serina's league, she still saw herself as a
competent professional who knew how to do her job, and who had taken on a
burden of being the face of a service that was necessary and needed for
the Fleet.  The 70,000 survivors of the Colonies couldn't exist in a
total information vacuum.  They needed a broadcast service to give them
reminders of what life had been like at home.  And to keep abreast of the
major developments that impacted their lives and give them outlets to
speak out on.
     From Zara's standpoint her willingness to ply her trade and become a
public face for the people had taken some courage on her part. 
Especially when she harbored secrets of her own regarding what had
happened the night of the Destruction that to this day she hadn't shared
with anyone.  Tragedies that had left her scarred and which she could
only keep buried by throwing herself into her job.
     But the people who made the cutting remarks about her behind her
back and to her face, never knew what kind of pain Zara had endured. 
They still saw her as she'd been before the Destruction.  The unqualified
"hack" who'd gotten her job and her success because of her pretty face
and nothing else.  In particular, the hostility was great from the
Warrior class who tended to see the entire journalistic profession as the
enemy.  The source of what could undermine the policies they felt were
necessary to keep the Fleet going in the face of the difficulties of
seeking a new home on Earth.  To some degree, Zara could understand that
skepticism in the early stages of the journey.  And in those early
periods leading up to the time of the encounter with the Pegasus, the
role of the IFB in Fleet affairs was considerably less than what it later
became.  Zara could understand completely why Adama as Military Leader
needed more of a free hand to conduct matters during a time when the
specter of being a hunted people loomed so large.  It was only
afterwards, when the threat of Cylon pursuit began to diminish that the
IFB took on a greater public role in the lives of the Fleet, and with it,
the public face of Zara and Zed.  Yet to many warriors, the IFB and all
it stood for was seemingly as much a threat as it had been in those early
periods.
     Still, she'd soldiered on and come to accept the hostility as
something that just came easy to warriors.  That she could deal with. 
What was harder for Zara to deal with was what she'd seen in the last
yahren starting with the arrival of the first Earth refugees, led by
Commander Byrne and then continuing with the Earth prisoners freed from
Ne'Chak.  The hostility she'd seen from almost the entire Earth
population had seemingly been a result of the Colonial Warriors filling
their heads with every negative story about Zara and Zed they could think
of, to the point where the Earthers wanted almost no contact with the
IFB.  Even at the Welcome Aboard dinner just two sectars ago for the new
arrival of prisoners freed from Ne'Chak, the IFB had found itself shut
out of the proceedings completely.  What offended Zara even more was
discovering that among the new arrivals were defectors from the Risk
ranks who had been journalists by trade.  Rather than reach out to those
who were journalists in the Fleet, the Earthers had been encouraging the
Risik to start an alternative form of news service aimed at undermining
the influence of the IFB.  She had also heard that some of the epithets
used to describe her by the Earthers even exceeded the cruelest ones
she'd heard from numerous warriors over the last three yahrens.
     Do they think I'm just some automaton with no feelings, who hasn't
known the meaning of what it's like to suffer?  She'd thought more than
once.  They only seem to think they've suffered.  And maybe I don't know
what it's like to be abducted by aliens and spend yahrens in a prison
camp.  But do they know what it's like to go through a day that begins
when the man you love proposes to you, ends with him being killed right
in front of your eyes while the Cylons are raining destruction on your
entire Civilization?
     That was the secret Zara carried within herself about that night
that she'd never shared with anyone.  That the only man she had ever
loved in her life, a practicing opposer in the law for a well-known
Canceran legal firm, had picked the day of the Armistice to propose
marriage to her.  It had filled Zara that day with so much joy and
excitement.  That the day that represented a new beginning for Colonial
Civilization would also bring with it, a new beginning for herself.  She
had planned to end her broadcast announcing the signing of the Armistice
with the public announcement of her engagement, and close on the theme of
"new beginnings.....for all of us."
     Her would-be husband had come to the broadcast center to watch her
that night.  She hadn't told any of the technical crew, even her director
who he was.  The relationship had always been a discreet one, designed
not to attract any attention.  But Zara had told her director that he was
a friend and that she wanted a camera shot of him at the back of the
studio when Zara planned on making a "special announcement" of her own
that the director would immediately understand.  When Zara would announce
her engagement and let all the people of Cancera watching have a chance
to know who had stolen her heart and made her say yes.  
     She never got to make the announcement.  One centar into the
broadcast, during the time when everyone was waiting for news of a Peace
Treaty signing that never happened, the Cylon attack on Cancera had taken
place.  Zara had wanted to stay on the air, but the closeness of the
bombs finally made her director order the broadcast cut and for everyone
to get to a shelter.  During the chaos of the next centar, as people
scrambled about in panic, Zara was separated from her fiancee.  Despite
the pleadings of her director to get to a bomb shelter, she had looked
about the parking compound of the Broadcast Center for any sign of him. 
Then, finally she saw him waving to her as he started to come out of the
main building.  In the chaos, he had evidently become convinced she was
still somewhere inside the Broadcast Center building trying to do her
job.  Zara had felt a surge of relief and waved back at him motioning him
to come to her and they could get to a bomb shelter in the next block. 
But as he made it off the stairs leading into the building, another Cylon
fighter had flown overhead and its laser blasts struck the top of the
building.......causing it to break off and collapse to the ground level
right where her fiancee had been at that particular instant.
     The relief had turned into a horror that had left Zara in a numb,
catatonic shock.  She'd been unable to move from her spot in the parking
compound as more blasts and explosions erupted all around her.  Finally,
her director and two other technical people had to grab hold of her
through the tumult and start dragging her across the compound towards the
shelter.  And during that attempt, her director was killed by a piece of
flying shrapnel before they reached the shelter.
     Because Zara had never told anyone about her fiancee and her
engagement, no one ever knew that there was a deeper reason for her
traumatic shock.  And the next morning when everyone came out of the
shelter and saw the totality of the Destruction, Zara found the only way
she could cope with what had happened was to never mention it to anyone. 
The only way she could try to let herself be strong was to not let others
know how the pain of last night went far deeper than seeing Colonial
Civilization destroyed.  And so.....she had told no one.  And when she
resumed her career and heard the first of the put-downs, she decided she
would prefer to be disliked by the masses than be forced to bare her soul
about something so horrific that had left her shattered.  She needed to
be prove she could be strong and competent in her job to justify herself
and if she revealed her darkest secret, she feared losing her ability to
ever work again.
     But of late......the put-downs and the snide contempt from the
Earthers was beginning to make her reassess her attitude.  Perhaps there
would come a time when one day, she might hear the cracks of a Lauren
Wagner or an Amy Sanderson and want to slap them across the face for
assuming the worst in her.  For not stopping to think that she too had
suffered at one point.
     Maybe that's why I've been giving Sire Xaviar such free rein in his
interviews of late, she thought as she boarded the Canaris for her trip
to the Electronics Ship.  It's my subtle way of getting back at them by
letting them know they've gotten a hell of a lot more than they should
have expected from us.
     Not that she actually agreed with Xaviar and wanted to see the Fleet
go back and join the Resistance to free the Colonies.  She would only
have considered that if there was reason to believe her beloved wasn't
dead after all and was part of that fight.  But she already knew better. 
Her beloved was taken from her that night.  And she wanted to consign the
memory of the Colonies to the past, forever.  And keep the memory of her
beloved locked away in her heart.....if she could.
     When the Canaris docked with the Electronics Ship, she got off and
made her way to the Nerve Center of the ship, where Heller ruled from as
Technical Director, and where he also oversaw the feeding of alternate
programming to the Fleet where needed.
     "Good morning, Heller," she always kept the politeness a trace
removed when speaking to him, given the underlying distance they'd always
had with each other.
     "Good morning, Zara," he didn't look up at her.
     "What will be the big story for today?"
     "Council meets tomorrow."
     "Are they going to vote on a Referendum resolution?"
     "We've got rumors, but it hasn't been confirmed."
     "Try to get confirmation.  Otherwise, it won't be worth chewing over
much.  Any guests lined up who want to talk about the FIU report?  I
don't care if they're pro or con, I just want people to talk to about
it."
     Heller turned around, "You don't think Major Croft acquitted himself
well?"
     "Major Croft may be a brilliant warrior, but he's got a face made
for oral drama and a voice made for staged pantomime.  We need someone
else.  If you can't find one, then we'll have to replay the Xaviar
interview again."
     Yes, Your Majesty, Heller rolled his eyes slightly and went back to
his monitors.  It was the same-old, same-old that he'd experienced with
Zara from the beginning.  Heller, the old-school professional with his
"hard news" instincts.  Zara, the creature of a later breed of broadcast
journalism that stressed more the flash and style.  They would always be
an oil and water mixture.  Yet beneath the snapping, they had both become
used to each other and settled into a realm of permanent Detente of their
own.
     "I'll be in my office," she said, "I trust the java is fresh."
     "As always," he said and then realized something else,
"Oh.....should let you know there was a delivery for you a half centar
ago."
     "Delivery?" she frowned.
     "Yeah, some messenger came in with a folder of some kind addressed
to you.  Security's already run a scan of it.  It's just a data drive, so
don't worry, it's not a bomb sent by an irate viewer or anything like
that."
     "If it were, I suppose I should suspect you or someone else on the
crew, right?" she flashed a fake smile at him.
     "Not me, Zara.  Life would be so much dull without you."
     "Where is it?"
     "On your desk."


     Zara's office was located one level above the Nerve Center, just
down a corridor from the main IFB Studio.  It allowed her to have quick
access to the studio set on short notice when something breaking occurred
and it also allowed her to bid a quick retreat when she was done to
unwind and go over other matters.
     Her desk was typically cluttered with documents that represented
scripts she had to read on stories she would be reporting on, as well as
a personal comp for watching video files of stories that would be
running.  She always had a firm order in place that no one was to touch
her desk because she always knew where everything was and any
straightening would be done by her and her alone.
     This morning, she noticed something out of the ordinary lying on the
center.  The message Heller said had been left for her.  It was in a
yellow envelope with bold block letters that hand been handwritten "TO BE
OPENED AND SEEN BY ZARA ONLY".  The fact the envelope wasn't bulky in
nature confirmed what Heller said, that it contained a small data drive
inside that she could plug into her comp.
     She settled behind her desk, turned on her comp, and made sure the
java she'd asked about was waiting.  Once she took a sip, she opened the
envelope and pulled out the drive.  It was standard sized to fit into any
personal terminal in the Fleet.  Of late, these kind of drives were
becoming more popular and widespread throughout the Fleet because many
were being used for storing messages sent to, and received from the
Pegasus.
     Well, I don't know anyone on the Pegasus, so I wonder what this
could be.  Is someone offering me their idea of a juicy little scoop for
today's news?
     She plugged in the drive and activated it.  A video message began to
play.
     It took two centons for Zara's expression to change from bemusement
to dumbfounded shock.


     Lydia had finished donning her Councillor robes and packing her bag
for the journey to the Galactica.  She planned on spending the day on the
Battlestar where she intended to go over the plans for tomorrow one last
time with Jarvik.  Her pilot would keep himself hidden for the night by
staying aboard the shuttle, which had its own bed.  Then tomorrow
morning....he would act, and she would finally strike the blow on behalf
of herself that she'd waited so long for.
     Oh, dear Antipas, she thought smugly of her long departed ex-lover,
who had introduced her to the dark side of politics.  If you could only
see me now.
     She picked up her bag and went straight to the docking area, where
she knew Jarvik would be waiting inside the shuttle.  By now, Jarvik
should have made his visit to Dr. Colin to complete phase one of the
process.  With his face now altered to resemble Airman Reynolds, he
wouldn't be getting off the shuttle.
     She arrived at the Docking Ring and saw the light indicating her
shuttle was there.  She pressed the telecom device on the wall to let him
know she'd arrived.
     "I'm here, Jarvik.  Open the hatch."
     The door then opened and she stepped into the luxurious personal
shuttle of hers that had  let her travel in style for so many yahrens on
Aeries.  After the Destruction, she and Jarvik had  salvaged as much from
her personal estates that could fit into it.  And then they had taken off
for the rendezvous point with the Galactica.  They hadn't bothered to let
extra survivors of the Destruction take up space in it.
     "Well, good day, Jarvik," she said as she settled herself into the
main passenger chair just several feet behind the pilot's seat.  "I trust
things went all right with Dr. Colin?"
     Slowly, Jarvik turned around and the Siress saw not his
face.......but the face she recognized from the personnel file of Airman
Brandon Reynolds.
     "Well done," Lydia said with approval.  "Xaviar will never be able
to tell the difference." she then added, "Of course that's only going to
be temporary.  You'll be back to your old self tomorrow."
     He activated the controls and the shuttle detached itself from the
Docking Ring to begin its journey.  Lydia settled herself back in the
seat and found herself contentedly daydreaming about what was to come. 
Everything in front of her seemed so clear........
     An assassination attempt on Xaviar and herself the next morning.
     The positive, unequivocal identification of Airman Reynolds as the
would be assassin.
     The emergence of Reynolds' repeated denunciations of Xaviar to his
fellow crew, his emotional instability as a prisoner of the Risik, and
his fear of not being able to return to Earth.
     The subsequent investigation that would also bring to light
Commander Byrne's repeated encouragement of negative attitudes about
Lydia, which she would spin as a case of trying to undermine duly elected
legal authority.  And in the process, the image of the Earthers as a
clique that had earned special privileges and deference would be cemented
with the population.  
     Lydia could see it all.  An unshakable conviction of Reynolds that
Sire Solon would secure in rapid order.  Humiliation for Byrne and all
his allies in the Fleet.  A discrediting of the notion the Fleet should
feel obliged to continue the journey to Earth for the sake of people who
treated their benefactors so shabbily when there were more important
people to care about fighting for their homes back in the Colonies.  A
turning of the tide so that the vote on the Referendum would be
overwhelming for the Turn Back viewpoint.
     And best of all.....the toppling of Adama from his perch.  He would
never lose his status as military commander, but Lydia was already
envisioning a day when Adama would be forced to give up the Presidency of
the Council.  And it didn't matter to her if she got the position or not. 
If anything, it would be better if Xaviar became President, and she
remained as Vice-President.  Able, because of their shared experience of
surviving an assassination attempt, to work together for the good of the
Fleet.  Her.....as the real power behind the throne.
     She could see it all.
     She let out a sigh and checked her chronometer.  The Galactica 
would  be coming into view about now.
     But when she looked out the cockpit windows.......she saw nothing.
     Lydia frowned and came out of her chair toward the cockpit.
     "Jarvik, why aren't we approaching the Galactica?"
     He didn't answer her.
     "Jarvik, I asked you a question!" she settled herself in the seat
next to the pilot one.  But he continued to ignore her as he stared ahead
with an indifferent expression, holding tight to the controls.
     "Jarvik!" her voice rose to an angry shout.  The angriest she'd ever
been with him in the eleven yahrens he'd worked for her.
     He finally let out a sigh.  A sigh that was a mixture of both
relief.....and sadness.  But when he spoke, the words were firm and
clear.
     "The Galactica's in the other direction," he said, "And so is the
rest of the Fleet."
     "What are you doing?" a level of panic filled the Siress.
     "I'm.....actually doing you a favor, Siress," he said simply.  "I'm
giving you a head start."
     "What are you talking about?" Lydia wanted to reach over and
strangle him, but she couldn't dare, since only he could fly the shuttle. 
"Take us back."
     Jarvik shook his head, "I don't think you'd want me to do that,
Siress," he said, "Because......if we go back, we'll both be arrested. 
Since by now......Zara's had a chance to read my message."


     "My name is Jarvik.  For the last eleven yahrens, I have been Siress
Lydia's personal pilot and......her occasional lover, which I know is a
title many other men have shared.  My loyalty and service to her in all
that time has been unquestioned and unshakable......until now.  Because
it is now my duty to report that Siress Lydia is at present, engaged in
an insane conspiracy to fake an assassination attempt of herself and Sire
Xaviar......and that she plans on framing an innocent party, Airman
Brandon Reynolds of the Constellation of this crime.  All as part of a
plot to discredit the Earth population of the Fleet and enhance support
for the Turn Back position championed by Sire Xaviar.
     "I want to make it clear from the outset that Sire Xaviar has
absolutely *no* knowledge of this conspiracy.  Sire Xaviar, it is true,
has welcomed Lydia's support for his position, but he has always
attempted to maintain control over the situation.  Unlike Lydia, his
belief in the Turn Back position is rooted in the purest of convictions,
and I want it understood that the news of this conspiracy should not be
exploited to discredit him and others who feel as he does.  For Lydia's
motives are not rooted in any principle other than her own pursuit of
personal power and glory for herself.  I know this, because this is not
the first time she has engaged in a despicable conspiracy to gain power
at the expense of innocent lives.  She also in confidence revealed to me
the full extent of her involvement in the Charka incident of several
sectars ago.  It is public knowledge that Siress Lydia was responsible
for the work release program that placed Charka in a position to
undertake his mad campaign that nearly resulted in the deaths of a number
of innocent hostages in the Galactica Life Station.  What is not known,
is that Siress Lydia was the one who allowed Charka to gain access to the
Life Station by her own attempted murder of Master Chief Varica and the
theft of his security ID card.
     "Siress Lydia's actions then, stemmed from the end of her
relationship with Commander Byrne of the Constellation.  She had hoped
that long-term, that relationship would one day lead to an alliance that
could drive a wedge between the Earth faction of the Fleet and Commander
Adama, and by extension, discredit his leadership.  When that
relationship was ended by Commander Byrne it resulted in her seeking more
desperate attempts to achieve power and the discrediting of Commander
Adama.  That first attempt, a cruel exploitation of the injuries suffered
by Captain Bojay, was rooted in the naive belief there existed a
sentiment in the population that so resented the Detente, that the idea
of Cylon parts being transplanted in an injured human would spark some
kind of popular backlash against Commander Adama's leadership in the wake
of Charka's mad actions.
     "I can only regret that at the time, her confession of these crimes
to me did not prompt me to report what I knew to those in authority.  But
Siress Lydia had not involved me in this plot.  I had no proof to offer
anyone that could directly confirm what she had told me.
     "Today however, I have proof to offer you that what I say about
Lydia regarding this would-be fake assassination attempt of herself and
Sire Xaviar is the absolute truth.  And the proof.....is my face.  My
face that you see in this message is not my own, but a face that has just
in the last two centars been altered by an expert in facial alteration
named Dr. Colin, who is currently in Siress Lydia's employ, and who
previously worked for Sire Antipas.  I would add that Dr. Colin was
involved in the cover-ups regarding the matter of Antipas's late
bodyguard Kimo, but escaped scrutiny at the time of Antipas's
imprisonment.  He was not, I should say, the most willing of accomplices,
but he nonetheless should be detained and questioned about the full
extent of his involvement with these criminal acts.
     "The face you see me with now is the face of the man Siress Lydia
hoped to frame in this plot, Airman Reynolds of the Constellation.  The
airman was chosen for this role because through intelligence work for
Lydia that I performed, I to my eternal shame, witnessed numerous
instances of Airman Reynolds' disdain for Sire Xaviar and the Turn Back
movement.  From this information, along with what she learned from
Reynolds' personnel file and debriefing, Lydia chose him as the perfect
patsy.  Once Lydia also set things in motion that insured Airman Reynolds
would eventually serve a one sectan stint on detached duty on the
Galactica, the plot was set-up whereby I, through facial alteration from
Dr. Colin, would disguise myself as Airman Reynolds and take a shot at
Lydia and Xaviar as they were leaving their VIP quarters which would
purposefully miss.  The intent was that Xaviar would get a good look at
my face and be an unimpeachable witness in identifying Airman Reynolds as
the guilty party.
     "As part of the plot, the com-line circuitry in the VIP section of
the Galactica would have been disabled to delay a security lockdown from
being imposed that would give me enough time to return Airman Reynolds'
stolen pistol to where I would have previously knocked him out and kept
him hidden during this time.  Airman Reynolds would be found with the gun
that had fired the shot, he would be identified by Sire Xaviar and he
would have no alibi.  And in the meantime, I would have departed the
Galactica before the lockdown and returned to Dr. Colin to have my
original face restored.
     And then......he took a deep breath before continuing.
     "I have chosen not to go through with this plot.  And thus, I have
left this confession to Zara explaining everything that was to happen and
why.  But at the same time......I freely admit that I am not blameless in
this matter.  For eleven yahrens, I have been Lydia's most devoted
servant and indeed.....her most devoted follower.  There was a time when
I could say I even loved her.  It is because of that......that I can not
bear to simply turn her over to the authorities and make a statement to
Sire Solon that would give me immunity from prosecution.  I know that
even if I were to escape temporal punishment......I can never escape the
punishment that awaits me for the greater crime of my blind obedience all
these yahrens.  And so......I have now by the time this mesage is being
read, taken Lydia in her shuttle, and instead of flying her to the
Galactica as she is expecting me to do......I am flying us off into deep
space.  I leave it to the Lords if there is a planet I can set the
shuttle on before the fuel runs out and if we can continue to live in
permanent exile from the Fleet or if we die in the process.  But at the
very least......the Fleet will be rid of a cancer in its leadership ranks
and be able to move on with a clean slate.  And it will also be rid of a
worthless underling who failed to live up to the hopes and expectations
that greater people once imagined for him.
     "Please let my father, Dr. Laughlin of the Pegasus know that......I
am sorry for everything that produced a permanent break between us.  That
I wish I could go back to the moment when he warned me of the danger of
going to work for someone like Lydia, and that......I do love him and for
the things he asked me for forgiveness for.......I give it to him.  Just
as I hope he forgives me for the mistakes I made."
     

     Adama quietly shut off the recording which had reached the end, and
looked up at Zara.
     "You haven't shown this to anyone?"
     "No," the IFB anchorwoman shook her head vigorously.  "The instant I
saw it, I knew it wasn't something I could broadcast right away.  I knew
I had to come to you first."
     "I appreciate that, Zara," Adama said, "You were under no obligation
to do so."
     "In spite of the reputation your warriors have fostered about me,
Commander, I am a patriot first, and a journalist second," she then added
with a trace of bitterness, "You'd do well to let Commander Byrne and the
Earthers know that too."
     "I will," the Commander said, "As to.....what I decide to do about
this, I do need your discretion for the short-term."
     "You have it," Zara said firmly, "But if you choose to  make all of
this public, Commander.....then I must insist I be allowed to cover it. 
With absolutely no privileges for those Risik defectors who see
themselves as my competition."
     "I will give you a full briefing as to what the final dispensation
of this matter will be.  Of that, you have my absolute word."
     "Thank you, Commander," Zara bowed respectfully and headed for the
door.  Before she could open it, she stopped and turned back to face
Adama.  Her body was trembling.
     "You know......I lost someone dear to me, the night of the
Destruction.  Someone who was.....everything to me.  I've......never told
that to a living soul because......I always felt my image as the
in-command anchorwoman wouldn't permit me to.  But now......I think
watching that message of Jarvik's just taught me a great deal about how
there are some things in life you shouldn't keep bottled up inside.  You
only invite your own destruction if you do that."
     "That's sound advice, Zara," Adama felt regret inside for every
negative feeling he'd harbored about her, "Live well by it.  And.....I
won't betray your confidence ever."
     She nodded gratefully and finally departed.  Once she was gone,
Adama immediately activated the com-line to the Bridge.
     "Colonel Tigh, this is a Priority Alert.  I want Blue Squadron
launched immediately to track down Siress Lydia's shuttle and have it
brought to the Galactica by tractor beam.  Siress Lydia and her pilot
Jarvik are at present, fugitives from Colonial Justice and are to be
placed under arrest upon the shuttle's return.  Also, tell Sire Solon I
want to see him immediately on the drawing up of formal charges against
Siress Lydia that include treason against the state."
     There was a stunned silence from the other end, as the Executive
Officer took in the meaning of what Adama had just said.
     "Commander.....is there anything else?"
     "Yes," Adama added, "Tell Lieutenant Castor that I want a
certain...... Dr. Colin detained and brought to the Galactica for
questioning.  And Colonel......not one word about this to anyone other
than the men I've just asked you to notify."


     Lydia's anger had now given way to total shock and disbelief.
     "How could you do this to me, Jarvik?" she could only summon a
whisper.  "After all I've given you.  All these yahrens of letting you
share in my wealth.....my glory.....my *bed*!" her voice rose.
     "It's because you gave me all that, that I'm condemning myself to
the same Fate, Siress," he said simply.  "I'm not better than you.  You
gave.  I took.  I made myself your willing accomplice in everything.  But
you finally crossed a line I couldn't.  There was no way your plan was
ever going to succeed.  It was either going to fail because of my
inability to carry it out effectively, or it was going to fail because I
couldn't go through with it.  You were never going to win, Siress."
     "I could have won," she whispered defiantly as she rose from her
seat.  And then the angry shout returned to her voice, "I *could* have
won!"
     Jarvik looked at her with sadness and regret.  There was no hatred
in him at all for her. If anything, in his own misguided way, he had
loved her.
     "Yes, you could have won, Lydia.  When you used to be.....different. 
Before you let Antipas get his clutches on you.  Before that.....you had
so much going for you.  You'd succeeded in the business world on your own
merits.  You earned all your wealth because you knew how to play the game
as well as any man could.  Oh yes, you weren't moral.  You knew how to
manipulate the system.  And you also knew how to use your body to good
advantage.  But it was all aimed at being a legitimate success.  Earning
status.  Not because....you were drunk with power or anything like that. 
Hades, I can remember when Adama picked you for the Council after the
Destruction because of your reputation.  You didn't care about the
responsibilities of being in power.  You just loved the status that came
from being a member of the Council and you left all the political
arguments to everyone else.  Until.....Antipas went after you, and you
let yourself be used by him.  So much that you let yourself fall in love
with his methods.  And when he needed you to bail him out, you decided to
embrace his methods for yourself.  That's when you corrupted yourself
beyond redemption, Lydia.  If you'd.....stayed the way you used to
be......I think you could have one day become the most important member
of the Council.  And you would have earned it the right way."
     It was the first time in eleven yahrens he'd ever addressed her
informally.  It left her stunned.  But if he had any forlorn hope that
she might be shocked back to reality and perhaps even deep down see his
confession for what it really meant, it was quickly dissipated.
     "You're so weak," she shook her head, "So weak.  I should have
banished you long ago."
     "I wish you had, Lydia," Jarvik sighed.  "I wish you had."
     He glanced over at the fuel gauge.  "We have eight centars before we
lose our fuel.  I need that time to keep looking for a place to set
down."
     "If you find it," her tone was filled with hate, "I'll kill you once
we're on the ground."
     "I don't think you will, Lydia," he sighed as he made an adjustment,
"How could you go through the rest of your life without at least one
loyal subject?"
     Before she could give him a retort, a blinding flash of light
suddenly streaked in front of the cockpit window.
     "What the frack?" Lydia blurted.
     Jarvik quickly rubbed his eyes and tried to make sure he didn't lose
his grip on the controls.  He quickly checked his scanner to see what
that could have been.  But his scanner showed nothing.
     And then more streaks of light flashed in front of them.  And they
could also hear a sound.  A sound growing deafeningly louder and louder
with each passing micron.
     "What's happening?" Lydia wailed in a combination of terror and
rage.
     But Jarvik couldn't answer her as he then felt his universe going
black.

Chapter Eight

     Adama sat in his office listening to the report from Apollo and
Dietra, who as Commander and Acting Deputy of Blue Squadron had been
dispatched to find Siress Lydia's shuttle and retrieve it.  What they'd
told him, left him and the others present in the room, completely
bewildered.
     "Jarvik was alone in the shuttle when you found it?"
     "Yes, Commander," Apollo nodded.  "He was unconscious at the time. 
There was no sign or trace of Lydia.  He insists he has no idea what
happened to her."
     "Are we even sure she was on the shuttle?" Colonel Tigh asked. 
"Maybe the confession video was a giant ruse to throw us off-track and
let Lydia escape somewhere else?"
     "No sir, that's not possible," Castor shook his head.  "We checked
the security video from the Rising Star.  Lydia boarded that shuttle with
her travel satchel."
     "And not only was she gone, so was the satchel she brought aboard,"
Apollo said.
     "And the shuttle's data recorder confirms Jarvik had no opportunity
to dock with another ship, or land on some other planet or asteroid for
her to get off before we located him," Dietra added.  "That shuttle was
in space the whole time after it left the Rising Star."
     "What about the cockpit recorder?" Adama asked.
     "Useless.  Either it malfunctioned, or else it was deliberately
erased.  There was nothing on it."
     "Could he have killed her and jettisoned her body and the satchel
out of an airlock?" Sire Solon asked.
     "There's no airlock on the shuttle for a body to be jettisoned
from," Apollo said.  "It's as if.....Lydia was just snatched out of that
shuttle by some unknown.....force."
     Adama's eyes narrowed as a sudden idea occurred to him.  One he
didn't feel comfortable sharing in the presence of everyone in the room.
     "It would seem we have an unsolvable mystery on our hands," he
finally said.  "It doesn't change the fact that Lydia is gone....and
likely beyond our reach.  Perhaps we should shift our attention to other
matters that stem from this."
     "What about Jarvik?" Solon asked, "Do you think charges are
warranted against him?"
     Adama looked directly at the Chief Opposer, "If we leave out the
unprovable question of whether Jarvik killed Lydia or not......what
charges are there to bring against him?"
     "Withholding of evidence regarding Lydia's attempted termination of
Master Chief Varica in the Charka incident----,"
     "Which he had no means of proving, and which you couldn't have
proved if she'd been charged with that," Adama said, knowing he had to
walk a careful tightrope with the Chief Opposer on that matter.  He,
Apollo and Tigh were the only ones in the room who knew there was a
witness to Lydia's attempted killing of Varica, but it was someone whose
identity was meant to be a carefully guarded secret in the Fleet.  The
Ziklagi shapeshifter Nizaka, whom the Fleet knew as Academician Sarah. 
"What does that leave you with, Sire Solon?"
     The Chief Opposer sighed, "Not much.  He *did* participate in the
conspiracy against Sire Xaviar and Airman Reynolds to a point. 
But....since nothing was implemented, I can't imagine it rating higher
than a misdemeanor that merits the briefest of a suspended sentence."
     "I'm inclined to agree," Adama said, "Jarvik is......quite a
tormented soul regarding the totality of his experience with Lydia.  I
think he's in greater need of a session with Tarnia or Father Fisher than
standing before a Tribunal."
     "This presumes of course that you believe he's innocent of whatever
happened to Lydia."
"Sire Solon," Zara spoke up for the first time, "I think one look at that
confession video 
makes it clear that Jarvik is no killer.  And he certainly wouldn't kill
Lydia.  In his own way, he was still her devoted servant to the end."
     Solon looked over at the IFB anchor.  Like so many in the Fleet,
he'd always had a low opinion of her and her co-anchor, Zed.  But for the
first time, he was beginning to realize that he may have done her an
injustice.
     "I think Zara's right," Apollo added, feeling the same thoughts
Solon was feeling about her, "We'll probably never know what happened to
Lydia.  And given what kind of person she was......does it really matter
any longer?"
     "I suppose not," Adama said, "Which......brings us back to the
question of what's best for the Fleet.  Do we have a public airing of
Lydia's crimes or do we.....take advantage of her disappearance to
quietly sweep matters under the rug?"
     Zara realized that all the eyes in the room were directed at her. 
The IFB anchor knew this was her moment to really prove herself to those
who had mistrusted her for so long.
     "Commander......unless you plan on letting Jarvik keep his changed
face and give him a new identity......you can't conceal the matter of
this plot.  I'm willing to say nothing about Lydia's role in the Charka
Affair, but this has left too much of a public trail behind that can't be
ignored.  And in all candor......this may actually help defuse the public
tension that's cropped up over what our future should be."
     Adama nodded, "You may be right, Zara.  Perhaps this will let us
catch our breath and recognize we need to make sure we're respectful of
the sentiments that exist on both sides of the issue and not harbor
resentments toward those who feel differently.  The Earth people need to
tone down their separatism on some less consequential matters, but at the
same time we have to respect their need to preserve their cultural
identity as Earth people in the same way we've been able to preserve our
identity as Colonials.  And if there's agreement from all sides to
respect the final outcome of the eventual Referendum.....it won't be used
as an excuse to foment needless discord."  He paused, "I am willing to
grant you an exclusive *recorded* interview, subject to my final editing
and approval, in which I will explain what can be revealed publicly about
this affair."
     "Thank you, Commander," Zara said gratefully, "You have my word, I
will not abuse your trust in me."
     He bowed respectfully to her and she left the room, impressing all
of those who had remained and seen a different side of her for the first
time.
     "Are there any other outstanding matters?" he asked the others still
present.
     "Yes," Sire Solon said, "I'll need to make a decision about Dr.
Colin and whether he should face charges."
     "I think, as with Jarvik, it's best not to proceed with anything
related to this matter," Adama said, "I might suggest, Sire Solon, that
you present him with this offer.  The matters related to his work for
Sire Antipas need not be prosecuted......if he will simply restore
Jarvik's appearance and then agree to a suspension of his license to
practice facial alteration.  And that if he ever chooses to re-enter that
field, it can only be as a member of the Colonial Fleet medical staff and
not as an independent practitioner."
     The Chief Opposer nodded, "That's agreeable to me, Commander."
     "Castor, you will escort Sire Solon down to the Holding Area so he
can let Jarvik and Dr. Colin know what we've decided.  Once he's
done.....I recommend you have a security team escort them to the Life
Station so Dr. Colin can do his......restoration work on Jarvik."
     "Yes sir," Castor said and then added, "I think that might be a job
our temporary members of Colonial Security for this sectan should
handle."
     "Use your best judgment, Castor, but.....I agree."
     Castor and Solon left the room followed by Dietra.  That left Adama
alone with his son and the Executive Officer.  Tigh stayed just another
centon to exchange final goodbyes with Adama and then he too was gone,
leaving just Apollo.
     "Well, son?" Adama asked, "Is there anything else on your mind?"
     "I suppose it's relief," he then added, "Do you think it's possible
that......the Ship of Lights had something to do with what happened to
Lydia?"
     "They seem like the only ones who could have pulled something like
that off," Adama let out a mirthless chuckle, "And I suppose it would be
a kind of poetic justice for her."
     "She was a monster," Apollo said, "What she did in that whole Charka
affair, and then this.  All because of a crazy lust for power."
     "And yet, Apollo," his father sounded contemplative, "I don't feel
like celebrating.  Just like I didn't feel like celebrating Sire Uri's
demise.  The two of them.....once had a lot of potential to do good.  And
they let their worst instincts get in the way.  It's more the occasion to
feel.....sadness at the waste of it all."
     "Do you buy into that excuse of Jarvik's that Antipas was
responsible for everything that went wrong with her?"
     "I think Jarvik is right to a point that Antipas brought out the
very worst in Lydia.  But.....she made that choice.  And once she did,
she set herself down a twisted path she never found her way back from. 
The freedom of the individual will, Apollo, is the thing that defines us
ultimately, and we draw the consequences from those actions.  Whatever
consequences Lydia is facing now.....they're entirely of her own doing."
     He looked up at his son, "At the same time, it isn't wrong to feel
some measure of.....pity even for those who were your worst enemies.  If
there's one lesson we've all learned from  Baltar, it's how worthless our
pretensions of greatness are if we can't find it in ourselves to believe
in redemption, and when its warranted......forgiveness.  In Lydia's case,
she never learned how to redeem herself.  And for that.....we should feel
pity, not elation that she got what's coming to her or anything like
that.  We just learn from that example and.....move on."
     Apollo nodded, impressed by his insights.  "What do you think the
impact will be on the Referendum?"
     "The Referendum is in the Lords' hands," Adama said with firm
serenity, "I believe the outcome will reflect exactly what our Destiny
will be.  And it will be the one we've been committed ourselves to these
last three yahrens.  I intend to use fairly, the means we have at our
disposal to win this fight."
     He then paused and added, "I'm going to tell your mother in my next
message that if she still wants to record a speech for the people about
the need for us to continue to Earth she has my support and my blessing. 
And if Cain wants to do the same.....I'll welcome that too."
     His son smiled.  Happy to see his father was at peace with the idea. 
And at peace regarding the future of the Fleet.


     Airman Reynolds, still not used to the feel of his Colonial uniform
after three days of detached duty, cautiously entered the room he'd been
summoned to.  He had paused outside the room to try and collect himself
since the briefing he'd been given by Adama had left him shaking
considerably.
     Sire Xaviar, who was seated behind a work table in his guest VIP
quarters, saw him and with a friendly wave motioned him over.
     "Hello, Airman Reynolds," he said pleasantly.  "Won't you sit down?"
     The Air Force enlisted man from South Carolina managed to keep his
steps precise as he made his way over and as requested, seated himself.
     "Thank you for coming," the Councillor rose, "Would you.....like a
drink?"
     He was surprised by his pleasant demeanor, "Uh.....no thank you,
sir.  It's....against regulations while we're on duty."
     "Oh yes, I keep forgetting.  I guess I need to reacquaint myself
with what the Fleet Manual says," he chuckled with an air of
self-deprecation as he sat on the edge of the table and folded his arms,
"You......understand why I asked to see you?"
     "Yes, sir," Reynolds said, "Commander Adama briefed me on......the
situation."
     "I'm sure it must have been a shock to you as it was to me," Xaviar
sighed.  "In.....light of how much we figured in this horrible matter
neither of us knew anything about, I thought it might help if we got
together and had a kind of......clearing of the air.  Because if there's
one thing clear about this whole sorry mess, it's the fact we found
ourselves put in this terrible position because......we both possess
strong points of view about something."
     Reynolds felt himself tense even more, "Sir, I----,"
     "Mr. Reynolds, you don't have to be so overly formal." Xaviar gently
interrupted.  "I didn't ask to see you in the context of my being a
member of the Council.....and the new acting Vice-President as it were. 
I wanted to see you man-to-man, and get a better understanding for
how......even a strongly felt position can sometimes have some
unfortunate consequences......as it's clearly been in my case.  I have my
reasons for feeling as I do about what the future direction of our Fleet
should be.  But......in my zeal to champion what I believe in, I can see
where I lost sight of the horror and tragedy of what you and those just
like you, went through at the hands of the Risik.  And now I've learned
an unpleasant lesson in how my singular focus on what I believe strongly
in, nearly led to disaster for both of us, though in your case......it
would have been worse.  And for that, I am sorry."
     The airman was surprised by the humility and sincerity in the
Councillor.
     "I know you want to go home," Xaviar went on, "And regardless of
what I think the future should be for the Colonial people, you can rest
assured, I'll be just as vigorous in supporting your interests and
insuring that you and your fellow Earth natives will get home.  I still
have my convictions on what I would prefer the Fleet do, but when it
comes to your people......the only thing that sets us apart is the means
by which you'll achieve the end of going home.  It will be the same for
you regardless of what happens.  If my public remarks in public
interviews left you with the impression I'd prevent you and your people
from returning to Earth.......well that's my fault entirely.  And I want
to apologize to you for that, and hope you'll understand that in these
next few sectans leading up to the Referendum, I'll never let you or
anyone like you come away with that impression again."
     The silence indicated that Xaviar was waiting for Reynolds to say
something.  The airman drew up all his strength and spoke as strongly as
he could.
     "Sire Xaviar,  I appreciate your kind words.  But I also have to
look at myself and realize I forgot the meaning of an old Earth saying
from our second World War, which is 'loose lips, sink ships.'"
     He saw Xaviar's eyebrows go up in confusion and went on, "It refers
to how people who worked in sensitive positions and talked too much aloud
ultimately did the work of the enemy.  And that's what I did with my big
mouth.  I made myself a target for Siress Lydia because I forgot the
first rule of what someone in my position should do, which is to keep
opinions like that to myself."
     "You shouldn't think you're not entitled to have a point of view,
Mr. Reynolds, or that you can't speak freely to your friends about them,"
Xaviar said gently.  "That isn't the same as revealing military secrets
or defying the lawful chain of command."
     "Even so, sir, I think it's clear I let my emotions
about......wanting to go home get the better of me," Reynolds said, "My
fellow shipmates, Sergeant Wagner and Petty Officer Clemens......they at
least knew how to *understand* your side even if they feel just as strong
about going home as I do.  They've......taken time to realize that for
your people......it's 
been an even bigger nightmare collectively because.....all of us, we're
just individuals who were taken from our homes.  You're what's left of an
entire civilization that lost your homes, and now all of a sudden from
out of nowhere, it seems like there's a second chance in the same way
that our being rescued was a second chance.  So.....I'm now learning to
understand your point of view, even though......." he trailed off.
     "Even though you hope my side loses the Referendum," Xaviar
finished.  "I understand that, Mr. Reynolds.  And.....I give you my
solemn and sacred word that if I do lose.....it'll be with honor and
dignity, and total acceptance of the decision our lawfully established
system arrives at.  I may be your opponent when it comes to
this........but I am not your enemy."
     He stood up and then extended his hand.  The Air Force enlisted man
rose and without any hesitation took it.  As they shook, the two of them
also found themselves smiling with newfound respect.


     Two cycles later, Jarvik found himself back in his quarters on the
Rising Star.  His face restored to what it had once been.  His
surroundings what they had largely been these last three yahrens.  But
everything of the greatest importance......had at last changed.
     "Hello, Father," he said into the recorder.  "It's me, Jarvik, your
son.  I'm.....sorry it's taken this long to respond to you.  In a
way.....it's eleven yahrens too late.  That's my way of saying.....I'm no
longer working for Siress Lydia.  She's.....gone now.  The circumstances
are.....something I don't think I can relate to you now, and I may not be
able to ever fully relate them, and that's not because I'm afraid of you,
it's.....the fact I'm probably still afraid of myself and what I've made
of myself all these yarhens.  All I can do is give you some reassurance
that it's all over now.  I have a new job as a reserve pilot for Siress
Belloby, who believe me is nothing like Lydia when it comes to matters of
corruption or......other things.  And.....I think by and large things
will be okay for me from now on."
     He felt a wave of emotion going through him as he stopped the
recording.  When it passed he managed to start it again.  Under no
circumstances was he going to let his father see him breaking down.
     "I.....appreciated what you had to say to me in your last message,
and I hope you'll appreciate what I have to say now.  I wish so much I
could change what happened between us, and what I chose to do,
but......we're both old and wise enough to know that what's done is done. 
All we can do is move forward with a new outlook if not a clean slate. 
I....have a new outlook now in my life, just as I know you have one too
on the Pegasus where so much is riding on what you do when you get home. 
I hope the Lords will be with you in that, and.....may I have your
prayers the Lords will do the same with me.
     "I.....love you, Dad.  And I'll remember to stay in touch."
     He switched off the recorder and felt like collapsing from the
weight of moral exhaustion. He'd never expected he'd have the chance to
answer his Father's message.  He was so sure that opportunity was gone
forever.  But for a reason he'd never truly fathom, the Lords had given
him another chance. 
     And what the Lords had chosen to do with Lydia......he could only
guess.  And no matter how much he wanted to move on forever from the
subject, he knew he'd still be guessing each day for the rest of his
life.

Epilogue

     After blacking out in the shuttle, Lydia had only a vague, surreal
sense of being in some kind of otherworldly realm.  A place that was
bright and.......intimidating on so many levels.  For an instant, amidst
the swirling bright mists, she'd thought she'd heard voices.
     "We can not condemn her to death.  It is much too soon for her.  Her
judgment should be to receive the equal of what those she once conspired
with have already received.....of their own free will."
     "But is this an option she herself would freely choose?"
     "I believe once she sees what it is......she will choose it for
herself."
     And suddenly, the voices and the mists were gone and she found
herself lying on the surface of a planet.  The air around her was warm
and had a slightly sulfuric tinge to it.  As she got to her feet she
could see a nearby river and adjoining it what looked like land set aside
for crop growth.  But it was clear the soil was of poor quality since the
plants that sprouted from it were very limited in their growth.
     Dazed, she noticed her travel satchel lying beside her, but there
was no trace of the shuttle or of Jarvik.  It was as though she had been
snatched out of one realm and deposited in another.  How it had come
about she had no idea.....but here she was.
     She picked up her travel satchel and slowly made her way toward the
river.  The humid quality of the air and its slightly foul tinge was
making her thirsty and she hoped the water was drinkable.  After she'd
taken two steps, she then felt a jolt when she saw a lizard like
creature, nearly six feet in length dart in front of her.  She quickly
took two steps back and waited for it to go by before she dared take
another step.
     "Where in the name of Hades am I?" she managed to whisper aloud.
     As she drew closer to the river she could see what looked like some
makeshift structure that had been built alongside it.  It took her a
micron to realize that it was some kind of survival hut.  Identical to
the kind that a Colonial battlestar would set up for a makeshift camp for
surface operations.
     A slow dawning of where she now was, was beginning to form in the
back of the auburn-haired Siress's mind.  One that if true......defied
all rational explanation.  And yet.....here she was.
     Five microns after she'd formed her thought, she saw a man emerge
from the hut.  His clothing was ragged in spots, the result of a good
deal of strenuous work activity.  His hair was shaggy and covered his
ears and he sported a full beard.  But almost immediately......a chord of
recognition was struck inside Lydia as her mouth fell open in disbelief.
     "Lords of Kobol," she whispered and then raised her voice,
"Antipas!"
     The man approached her and she could see the look of equal disbelief
on him as he recognized her.
     "Lydia," the one time Councillor from Libra, and Lydia's one-time
lover came to a stop just ten feet from her.  "By all that's
cursed......you of all people.....here?"
     "So it would seem," she was too much in shock to rail at him or
issue a retort.  "Somehow......I've been transported......here."
     Slowly, his expression turned from one of disbelief to  incredulity
and he began to laugh.
     "You're here," Antipas's laughter grew hysterical, "You're actually
here!  Adama banished you, just like the rest of us!  Your luck finally
ran out!"
     "Adama has nothing to do with it," she was trying to come to terms
with the fact that she was in a place with a man she never thought she'd
see again......and didn't want to see again.  "I don't know how or why I
came to be here."
     "Judgment then!" Antipas raised his arm and with his longer hair and
beard he almost seemed like an ancient prophet of the wilderness making a
proclamation, "It's the Judgment of the Lords!  You've been condemned to
spend the rest of your yahrens with your peers!  The ultimate outcasts of
humanity!"
     The sound of his taunts stirred an anger within her.  And with it, a
determination to not care at all how or why she'd come to this place. 
The fact was, she was here and reunited with the man who had taught her
all about how to desire power and enjoy it.  And whom she'd enjoyed
controlling in return when his fortunes had declined, and which had
culminated with his imprisonment and eventual exile.  If she was to spend
the rest of her days on a hellhole of a planet with a man she despised,
she was going to prove to him that she was capable of taking what he
could dish out......and could give back in return.
     "You always were an insufferable bore, Antipas," the smooth-toned
voice of the Siress said.  "It's a wonder the others haven't killed you
yet."
     "They look up to me," he mocked, "It didn't take long for Galerius
and Elegabalus to prove they weren't capable of leading a community.  But
*me*!  Our community respects *me*!"
     "Not for long, perhaps," Lydia began to smirk, "By all means, take
me to them.  I'm going to enjoy letting them know you've now got
real......competition."
     "Oh, I don't think so," Antipas shook his head, "Not with your
devotion to the.....finer things in life.  You've never had to rough it
once in your life."
     A determined look came over her as she picked up her
satchel......and tossed it into the river.
     "There's always a first," her voice dripped with contempt, "And to
prove you wrong and show that I can one day control the borays of this
planet better than you,  I'll gladly wear animal skins and rags and eat
one of those lizards that crossed in front of me if I have to."
     He let out another laugh, "The thought of you in animal skins is an
interesting sight to ponder Lydia.......but I doubt you'll last that
long."
     "Try me," she came up to within a foot of her, her eyes blazing.  
     For just an instant.....Antipas felt an old, forgotten stirring
within him.
     "I will," the mocking and taunting was suddenly gone, "You've given
me something new to look forward to, Lydia.  A genuine challenge.  It
will help me make this community more productive than ever."
     The smirk returned to her.  And simultaneously, for a brief instant,
she could feel the old stirring as well.
     "Lead the way, Antipas," Lydia extended her arm.
     Her one-time lover took it and together, the two reunited rivals
headed back in the direction of the main camp of the settlement.  Where
their Final Destiny awaited.


Fleeing from the Cylon tyranny......the last Battlestar
Galactica......leads a ragtag fugitive fleet on a lonely quest.  A
shining planet.....called Earth.